Black Coffee :|: America x Russia :|: Countryhumans

Act I, Chapter Nine

"Papa!!" Sovi squealed, relieved. He ran straight into his "mothers" arms and hugged him tight, blowing a raspberry at his older brother and father.

Russia pulled a silly face in retaliation and sent Sovi into laughter once more.

USSR picked up Nazi bridal style while Sovi was still in his arms, sending both of them into surprised giggles.

"Bärchen? (German: Little Bear)" Nazi asked with a blush.

USSR hummed, walking down the stairs with his husband and youngest son in his arms, Russia in toe. Nazi just smiled and shook his head, snuggling into Soviet Union's warm chest. USSR looked at Russia and raised an eyebrow.

"Do you want to join in as well?"

Russia snorted and lightly punched his dad's strong shoulder.

"Oh please, папа. I know how to walk."

To absolutely not prove his point, he stumbled on the last stair on the way into the kitchen.

"You were saying?"

Russia pretended to mope as his father lowered the two countries in his arms to the ground in order for Nazi to return to his cooking; Sovi running out and hiding behind the wall with a squeal.

"Could you put the kettle on please, Russland (German: Russia)?"

Russia nodded and turned on the machine, pulling four mugs out of the cupboard above it. One was red with white and gold stars all over it, the second had a map of Germany with a smiley face, the third had a binder on it saying 'paperwork shmaperwork', and his had a Russian nesting doll with each smaller doll out in the open. He knew how everyone liked their coffee or tea, as this was the routine every morning. It would get boring if he didn't enjoy every second he spent with his relatives.

"Do you need a hand, любить? (Russian: Love)" USSR asked his husband, wrapping his arms around his waist and nuzzling his head into the shorter man's shoulder blades.

"Well, after you've finished being clingy, it would be wonderful if you could boil those eggs," Nazi teased, turning his head to kiss his lover's cheek and bat his brown ushanka over his eyes.

Sovi whined in disgust at his fathers' show of affection and pretended to gag, receiving a tired chuckle from his older half brother, Germany, who had just entered the kitchen. He had bags under his eyes but covered them fairly well with his glasses. He wore a beige turtleneck with a black scarf and a pair of jeans.

"Guten Morgen, (German: Good Morning)" Russia greeted with a thick accent - he wasn't really the best with hiding his Russian twang when speaking other languages. "You're dressed nice. Going somewhere, Bruder?" (German: Brother)

Germany shrugged and stole a Russian tea biscuit from the plate Nazi had already set up, earning a light slap on the hand from the chef.

"Nein (German: No)! These are for breakfast, Sei geduldig!" (German: Be patient!)

"Entschuldigung (German: Sorry), Papa," Germany apologised, returning the treat to the plate and turning to Russia once more, who had begun pouring water into each of the mugs.

"No where special, really. Just going out to see Polen."

Russia raised an eyebrow and smirked at his older half brother. He was only older by a month but would use the small advantage to rub in his face whenever they had an argument.

Germany scowled at him, cheeks flushing, "wipe that look off your face, it's nothing, Russland."

USSR took this as an opportunity to butt in, "I'd hardly call the look you give that boy 'nothing'."

Germany sent him a confused glare, face flushing even more, "what look, папа?"

"Oh, is this about that Poland boy? He seems so sweet Deutschland (German: Germany), a perfect fit for you!" Nazi added.

"Not you too, Papa!" Germany groaned, pulling his face down with his hands.

"Oh mein Gott, (German: Oh my god) Deutschland! Look at those bags under your eyes," Nazi fussed, checking every inch of Germany to make sure he was fine.

"Es geht mir gut, Papa. Halt beunruhigend." (German: I'm fine, dad. Stop worrying.)

"Mein armes Baby, du musst auf dich selbst aufpassen!" (German: My poor baby, you need to take care of yourself!) Nazi wailed again, cradling Germany in a tight hug like he was a child who had just woken up from a traumatic nightmare.

Germany writhed in agony, trying to escape his father's fretful grip, mumbling various words of irritation under his breath as the Third Reich peppered motherly kisses all over his face. USSR placed a comforting red hand on Nazi's shoulder and kissed his forehead, trying to calm him down without words. Despite his calm demeanor, he shot Russia a wink with a barely hidden smile - seemingly charmed by his spouse's overwhelming concern. Russia snickered and sent a wink back, signalling to his dad that he understood the situation.

It was really too humourous to let go of.

"How does it feel being the baby, Germany?" Sovi gloated, happy to finally not be the poor soul Nazi made a commotion over.

Germany sent him a withering glare and mouthed something like 'I will kill you and they are never going to find your body' to the triumphant six year old. Sovi pretended not to be threatened but a nervous gulp gave him away.

Russia smiled at his family's antics as he gathered up the mugs and positioned them at everyone's allocated seats at the dining table. He grabbed the completed plates by sidestepping his kooky parents and suffering brother and set up the table as much as he could. Just as he was about to start washing the dishes the worst thing that could've happened, happened.

"What about Russland? He doesn't eat nearly enough and always wakes up more tired than he was the day before!"

Russia spun on his heel to glare at Germany for ratting him out. If looks could kill, the European country would have disintegrated right there in his father's arms.

"сука Бля-" (Russian: Fucking bitc-)

"Mein armes Russland! (German: My poor Russia!)" Nazi cried, releasing a grateful Germany and instead embracing his very tall not-really-son-son. "Sie müssen auch auf sich selbst aufpassen! (German: You need to take care of yourself too!)

Russia awkwardly pat Nazi's back as his step father bombarded him with motherly kisses as well, making the Russian man pretty uncomfortable. USSR decided to take pity on his son and gently dislodged his partner from the awkward boy. Russia expected to be set free but was instead pulled into another hug, this time by USSR. He relaxed into the hug and sighed as his father tucked Russia's head under his chin.

"Знаете, он прав. (Russian: He's right, you know.)" His dad admitted softly. "Мы очень любим тебя, сынок, и хотим, чтобы ты был в безопасности и был здоров." (Russian: We love you a lot son, and we want you to be safe and healthy.)

"Я знаю, папа. Спасибо." (Russian: I know, Dad. Thank you.)

Soviet Union offered him one last squeeze before pulling back, smiling empathically. He clapped him on the back in an attempt to apologise for threatening Russia's manliness with hugs, provoking a laugh from the red, white and blue countryhuman.

"Now," Nazi chirped, grabbing the rest of the plates and handing some to Germany to take to the table. "Who's ready for breakfast?"