Pork Soda

Sixteen

The three persons seated at the table all turn their heads when they notice Russia approaching. MSK and CPP stop talking to each other and stare at Russia with this wary look in their eyes. CPP is ready to get up and fight the Slav. Despite the fact that he and his father never got along, there was a small part of him that still loved the person that gave birth to him - family was everything to Filipinos, after all. He was enraged when he heard about what Russia did. One bastard had left Martial, there shouldn't be a second one.

Russia only ignored them and went to stand in front of Martial who looked uncomfortable craning his neck upwards to look at the tall country. The little Asian gulped and mustered up the strength to place this brave look on his tired face. They have a staring match. MSK, whose hands had been under the table, reach into his pocket to message his uncle. Philip didn't look at his phone.

Martial held back a flinch when Russia placed his hands on the table and on the back of his chair, trapping him in his seat. The Slav leaned closer and the Asian leaned backwards. The smell of alcohol wafted into the law's nose, telling him that the country was drunk.

"Привет, Луси," he said in a deep voice.

"Um... Hi," Martial greeted warily.

"You know, we've been friends for a long time, but you're very secretive. You won't even tell me who got you pregnant with MSK and CPP. I've told you all my secrets. Don't you think it's time you tell me yours, мой маленький олень?"

Both MSK and CPP stiffened. Martial only looked at the Slav with annoyance as if he had been offended by what the big country said.

"Excuse me? What brought up this bold request? And what makes you think I'll just tell you who I fucked?!", he exclaimed angrily.

"It doesn't matter!", Russia growled, his thumb caressing the law's soft and supple neck. Martial hitched his breath and gritted his teeth, not liking the feeling of drunk Russia's hand on his neck. "You either tell me or I–"

"Hoy!", CPP yells, taking Russia's hands off of his father and pushing the Slav away. "Leave him alone! He doesn't have the obligation to tell you anything!"

The yell caught everyone's attention despite the loud chatter and obnoxious music playing. They turned their heads and saw Martial, CPP, and MSK up from their seats. Across from them is Russia who gives them a glare, earing a nastier one from the little socialist party. Their bodies are tense, almost as if a fight is about to break out.

The bachelor of the party notices what is happening and turns his head to the group. SSA stands up and slowly walks over to them. There is no way he was going to let a fight break out in his bachelor party, not if he could help it. He stops a few feet away when Russia spots him. He doesn't know how intoxicated his brother is so he's afraid to move any closer and have Russia attack. After all, the last time Russia was drunk, he tried to choke Martial.

Why is it always Martial he fights with?, SSA wonders with a sigh.

"Oi! Dinnae stairt th' rammy yet! We haven't even refilled oor drinks yet!", Scotsland exclaims drunkenly in a thick accent.

"Let's not fight at all," MSK says in a civil tone. He was the kind of person that would prefer to fight with their words rather than their fists. "Come on, guys, this is a party. Plus, Russia's drunk!"

"Not that drunk," Russia scoffs.

"Rus, are you really going to fight us just over some...guy who got me pregnant with my sons? Why don't we talk it out outside?", Martial tried to reason, too tired to even want to fight. Even if he wasn't tired, does he look like he even wants to fight Russia? The Slav is twice his size! He barely even held out in their fight at the restaurant.