Chapter Text
The last time Russia had been at a wedding, the bride had started trying to kiss him.
So to be here, standing in a spiffy tuxedo and talking to the same guests as the previous wedding- having successfully completed it, was a gift.
The withering glare he was receiving from the other grooms father was not as much a gift.
Russia forces himself to nod at the shorter man, turning to search the crowd for his husband.
He found America at the chocolate fountain, talking to Canada, the smaller man had obviously had a few drinks at this point and was telling some exaggerated story Russia began to hear as he stepped closer.
“And I tell yew, he was LITERALLY glowing, and I- *hehe* i stepped right up an’ I said “this ain’t you, Russ!” And he was all like “oh amerika you are so handsome I will stop dying now” and then we made out!”
Russia felt a pinch of annoyance that was followed by a wave of endearment for his husband, he walks up behind the other man and rests his chin on the others head, a rare show of pda.
“Woah there darlin’, where’d you come from, heaven? You here with someone or are you free for the takin’?”
The smaller country jokes, snickering as Canada’s smile tightens.
“Russia, beautiful ceremony, are you CERTAIN it required America to be in a dress?”
Canada sounded like one poke would send him into a silent rage.
“Was his idea.”
Russia says, putting his arms around his husbands neck possessively.
“Breaking gender norms, very left wing, no?”
Canada lets out a stiff chuckle, patting Americas shoulder.
“Eh, it is. I suppose i cant argue, maybe this will cause some change for you, Ame!”
America was just busy staring up at his husband, grinning drunkenly.
“милый мальчик, you are done for tonight. No more drink.”
Russia takes America’s cup, and the smaller country pouts, arms crossed as he steps away from his husband.
“So y’all telling me…”
He gestures to himself with a thumb.
“That I, the GREATEST COUNTRY-“
“It is debatable.”
Russia chimes in.
“THE GREATEST COUNTRY IN THE DAMN WEST AND PINNICLE OF FREEDOM… cant enjoy a few drinks on m’ah own weddin’?”
Russia sighs, running a hand over his face, feeling the golden cracked scars that had long since healed.
“When the greatest country in the world has the alcohol tolerance of a wet sponge, maybe time to stop, net?”
America huffs but doesnt attempt to take his drink back.
“I wasn’t gon’ finish it anyway.”
——————————-
Meanwhile Britain was watching the new couples conversation with a look that could shatter glass, staying composed as was usually required.
“Good Lord, look at that boy, I am begining to suspect he does these things just to enrage me.”
France just smiles softly as she looks at the pair.
“But dead, t’is still love, is it not?”
Britain sighs.
“My son wore a dress to his own wedding and didn’t even let me walk him down the aisle.”
“If he wasn’t dressed as a bride he wouldn’t need walking down the aisle, amore…”
Britain sighs a third time, and France pinches his arm.
“Be happy, Britain. C’est la beau vie those two have begun.”
“I understand that, I just suppose I would have hoped he’d find a nice female country to-“
“Amore, you speak like this yet you still accept me? Tu ne peux pas aimer une chuassure et detester l’autre..”
Britain feels his face flush as he meets the shorter woman’s eyes.
“That is different. It is simply a matter of-“
“Mama, puis-je parle-tu?”
Canada interupts, smiling apologetically at Britain.
“It is urgent, so sorry, sir.”
And just like that Britain’s conversation is over.
——————————
The balcony was cold, and Russia wondered for a moment why America would want to come out here for a break.
When the man takes off his shirt and summons his wings, Russia realizes.
“Net, no flying tonight, you are drunk.”
He steps closer, a puff of air leaving his nose as America just grins at him.
“I was also drunk the night I got my wings Y’know..”
Russia pauses, remembering when his mother had pushed him off a balcony just like this one, only much colder.
He recalls how he had been ready to use his own powers to soften the fall until he had felt arms around him.
Russia only then realizes something.
“That night, you didn’t know you had wings as power, why did you jump?”
“Some say reckless love, Y’know, Romeo an’ Juliet, except instead of dying ‘cuz we think the others dead we die together, ‘ts beautiful in a way.”
Russia hums, leaning against the balcony as he feels a warm eagle wig wrap around his back.
“I prefer to say it’s ‘cuz I’d follow you anywhere, big bear.”
America pulls off his sunglasses, showing off those pale blue eyes that captivated Russia everytime he saw them.
“Was stupid plan, you could have moved on.”
“I didn’t move on the last time you died, bastard.”
“Was fun to see you with beard, do not pull a Thor on me again.”
“YOU DO NOT GET TO REFRENCE MOVIES YOUR COUNTRY DIDNT MAKE!”
The two of them bicker back and forth for a bit, Americas wings providing a barrier from the outside world.
By the time the fireworks start America is giggling and Russia has a rare smile on his face.
“Y’know Russ… I learned a word the other day specifically for today. I never did get y’uh a ring, so…”
he holds out his hand, in it is a beautiful silver ring with a purple stone in it
“A mixing of our colors, so I can always remember my красивый мальчик”
The pronounciation is off but as the fireworks go off it still makes Russia push the other boy away.
Right off the edge of the balcony.