CountryHumans Oneshots [REQ OPEN]

❤️ USSR x Yugoslavia ❤️

It wasn't unnatural to see an ex-country in a bar, washing their memories away with alcohol. But, to find two in one place, having a normal conversation instead of having a hatred-fueled battle was definitely uncommon.

Yugoslavia and the Soviet Union sat at the bar, speaking quietly between one another. The two of them weren't the most drunk just yet, the reason for being so silent. Soviet's reputation came from being the intimidating country who spoke rarely, and Yugoslavia barely spoke because of his shame in his children fighting much of the time.

"You're lucky to have children like yours," Yugoslavia turned to Soviet, "Mine started a whole battle. I tried to be generous by giving them freedom, but guess what. This happens."

"Do not get me wrong," Soviet took a long sip from his vodka bottle, then looked back down at Yugoslavia, "My children fight. Especially Russia and Ukraine. They get angry over small thing."

Yugoslavia rolled his eyes, "It's sibling rivalry, probably."

"I never had brother or sister," Soviet shrugged, "I would not know."

"Same here," Yugoslavia shrugged, pausing to take a quick drink. He blinked slowly, tired.

"Well, let them make mistakes," Soviet hummed after a moment. The both of them were quiet, they seemed to share thoughts through the silence.

"I heard you hate that nazi too," Yugoslavia spoke up. Soviet growled with disgust.

"Of course," Soviet nodded, quickly sipping from his bottle again, murmuring another sentence, "Filthy liar."

"Something tells me you hate liars," Yugoslavia joked. Soviet didn't reply, instead, he kept taking long sips from his vodka. It was obvious that he had purely come to the bar with the intention of getting drunk.

"They are always worst," Soviet finally responded. His voice was low and thick.

Yugoslavia hummed, and turned away from him. He huffed, as he drank more of his alcohol.

"His people invaded my country in the second world war," Yugoslavia sighed. There was no response from Soviet. Instead, silence crept between them as they both drank from their bottles in unison.

*

It was just past midnight.

Yugoslavia and Soviet were unusually loud. They shouted at people from the other side of the bar, waving their bottles around, at one point the both of them broke down, finally, they'd began flirting with each other.

"You're so strong," Yugoslavia admired Soviet, carrying out his words. Yugoslavia placed his hands on Soviet's arm in a dazed state.

"You are tiny country," Soviet slurred, his accent more prominent than it was before. "Tiny.."

Yugoslavia growled, "I'm not tiny. Your country was giant."

Soviet rolled his eyes. Yugoslavia slid of his seat and tried to stand up, he wavered, and held Soviet's arm for support. Soviet chuckled, poking Yugoslavia in the forehead.

"Drunk," Soviet hicked, giggling.

"I'm not drunk," Yugoslavia protested. He paused. "Shut up."

"Am tired," Soviet complained suddenly. He went, and stood up himself, stumbling about a bit, before he somewhat regained his balance. "I am going to bed. Right now."

Soviet, with Yugoslavia clinging to his arm, made his way out of the bar and failed to walk normally down the streets. The both of them still chattered away.

"Does-" Yugoslavia hicked mid-sentence, "-Does anyone ever tell you how hot you are?"

"No," Soviet admitted, "But they all know am hot."

"Well, I'm going to say it," Yugoslavia clung tighter onto Soviet, "You're really hot."

Soviet giggled drunkenly. He blinked slowly.

"You are small, puppy country," Soviet patted Yugoslavia's head, "You are pet."

Yugoslavia growled as he went onto clinging onto Soviet's torso, dragging along behind him.

"If I'm a pet," Yugoslavia smirked, "Does that mean you're my master?"

"Shut up," Soviet chuckled, "I am not in mood. I need sleep."

Yugoslavia frowned, but shrugged it off.

It took quite awhile until they finally got to Soviet's house. While Soviet tried unlocking his door, Yugoslavia leaned all of his weight on Soviet, already half asleep.

Soviet suddenly slammed the door open to a dark house, stumbling in with Yugoslavia. He kicked the door behind them shut, as he felt his way around through the darkness, trying to find his bedroom door. Once he did, he struggled to open it, succeeding, and went to flop in his bed.

Soviet shuffled around to face Yugoslavia who looked up at him with half-lidded eyes.

"Oh, I forgot about you," Soviet snickered, "Oh well. I do not mind it."

Yugoslavia rested his head against Soviet's chest, Soviet hummed lowly, and went along with it. By instinct, Soviet wrapped his arms around Yugoslavia.

Sure, they barely knew each other properly, but who the hell cares.

They were drunk, that was the only excuse they really needed.

Requested by Dr_Cross