America was coming back from the Eurovision Song Contest, like always, he had extremely mixed feelings about whole thing; he would title it: “The-Unrequited-Song-Contest”, but somehow he kept coming back every year. This time the competition was organized by Russia in Moscow, America didn’t even bother to stay at a hotel and instead, decided to stay at Russia’s mansion. He explained, he only did it because of the crisis, but in fact he didn’t want to spend too much money on accommodation. Now he was strolling down the street in direction of Russia’s home where he wanted to change as quickly as possible and then go to a big party; all countries promised to be there and Norway declared to treat everybody. The evening was going to be great.

As soon as he entered the house he saw Belarus coming down the stairs, she looked at him with her twisted look.

“Aw, it’s you” she said. America greeted her with his charming smile and started going upstairs.

“Why aren’t you at the party?” she asked him as he was passing her by.

“I’m just on my way there, I came to change clothes. But why aren’t you there?”

She shrugged, “I don’t care for parties. I’d like to go to bed early”

“Why? It could be fun!”

“No. Everybody will be drunk and…” she stopped and looked at America, “Do you want something to drink?”

“No, thank you. Norway promised to treat me.”

She smirked, “Sure he will, with Heineken or some other international shi-… excuse me. I’m asking you, do you want to try a real Russian’s vodka? I saw my brother stock lots of the stuff in the fridge.”

She looked at him with a glint of seduction, like a seller who knows you’ll buy at his shop even if you keep complaining. Belarus wasn’t mistaken and her smile grew when America finally agreed and followed her into the kitchen.

Carpe diem, he thought, such occasion like this, good quality Russian vodka for free, doesn’t happen too often.

Belarus felt at home in Russia’s mansion and didn’t think twice about taking vodka out of the fridge. She prepared a glass for America and handed it to him, and then started looking for caviar; America observed her as she was moving round the kitchen, without doubt, she was really pretty girl.

“Well, he has run out of caviar; what a pity. Would you would like some dinner?”
Belarus asked, peering in the fridge once more.

“Thank you, but I’m going to the party remember. They will most likely have something to eat there.” he smiled.

“Yes, of course. I don’t want to stop you, but you probably shouldn’t drink vodka without eating something first.”

“Why?” America took a large gulp of the liquid.

“Because you are America! You are not as strong as us – the Slavic countries”

“Hey, that’s mean! I am definitely stronger than a girl like you!”

She didn’t answer; instead she started to prepare another drink. “I’ll make you a drink that is very popular at the moment.”

America felt he should leave if he didn’t want to spend his evening with this dull girl. He attempted to make an excuse, “Well, that’s kind of you, but I have already tried a White Russian.”

“No, it’s not a White Russian.” She replied, still focused on making the drink.

“Then what is it?”

“You’ll see.”

In silence she shook the shaker, added some fruits and handed the drink to America. He had to admit, that it tasted better than the vodka itself and maybe better than any other drink he had ever tried. After few sips, he took into consideration; yes, Belarus may be strange and dangerous, but also very attractive. Maybe picking her up, possibly even having sex with her, would be a real act of heroism. And he –as a hero- could definitely do that.

“Thank you Belarus, could you possibly show me how you make this?”

She thought for a moment looking at him strangely with her cool eyes, “I’d better bring you a book I learned it from. I’m not a good teacher.”  

She left the kitchen and America heard her run upstairs; when she returned she was wearing only a dressing gown.

“I’m going to take a bath soon,” she explained as he couldn’t stop looking at her.

“This is the book” she gave him a recipe book in a language he didn’t understand.

“Are you kidding me?!”

She shrugged: “You can guess from the context”

“I can’t even read the letters!”

“Don’t complain. Just look at illustrations and tell me what you would like to drink next. I see you are not drunk enough.”

She sat on a table; the dressing gown fell on both sides revealing her long, white legs. America couldn’t take eyes of her. He was probably the only one man, except Russia, who saw her as naked as this. She was so young, fresh and pure; America swore no one had ever touched her, because she was too twisted. He cleared his thoughts.

“Just make me a typical drink from this area, ok?”

As she was preparing the drink he couldn’t hesitate to ask: “You are really close with your brother, aren’t you?”

“That’s right,” she answered simply, “we are going to get married.”

“Aren’t you interested in other guys?”

“Like Lithuania or Poland? My boss doesn’t like Poland, but he is sometimes very helpful and Lithuania;” she stopped abruptly, “he is strange”

America choked. Belarus saying that someone else is strange was a funny thing to hear.

“By ‘interested’ I mean going out, kissing and stuff like that.”

“Then I have no other interests than my brother.”

“But, come on! He is your brother! You can’t have children with him!” America exclaimed.

He saw Belarus redden. “I won’t have to; together we will be very strong. You won’t understand it.”

“Why?”

“You don’t know how hard it is to be a girl amongst lots of men. I have to be twice as strong as you are to stay independent. Does anybody help us? No. When Ukraine and I had problems with Chernobyl or Gas? No one, because we are girls; for Russia I am only his sister, but he will have to help his wife.”

“If you marry Russia you won’t be independent, and you cannot spend your whole life with your brother!”

She looked at him angrily; he saw her glance quickly on a big knife lying on the table.

“Who says that?” she nearly shouted, “Everybody knows you are in love with your brother!”

America was stunned, “No, I’m not! I just tolerate him!”

“No, you love him, you hide it but deep inside you are just like…” she paused as she heard a door slam.

Russia was back, he called both of their names. Belarus said something in her language. America sensed it contained a swear word. She looked uncertain what to do as they both heard Russia looking for them. America wondered, if it was because of her clothes or lack of it; would Russia get mad if he saw Belarus only in her dressing gown chatting with such an attractive guy like himself? They heard him approach the kitchen. Then Belarus did something really erratic, something he never expected her to do. She stripped herself of the dressing gown and came close to America. He took in account the smart, yet sexy, black underwear she was wearing. As Russia entered the kitchen she pressed her lips against the American man; her lips were soft against his, and it felt… Good.

“Oh, there you…” he heard Russia’s voice from the door.  

Russia remained calm towards the sight before him and just looked at them both with a cheerful face like always; Belarus broke the kiss and took a few steps forward to Russia, in silence she looked at him. The whole situation lasted only five seconds, but felt like an eternity.

Finally Russia’s smile widened even more, “I came to collect you but I see you’re already having fun; bye then!” and he left the kitchen. They heard him slamming the door. Belarus shrieked and swore again in her language. Angrily she picked up her dressing gown and shoved it on; America grabbed her from the back.

“Why don’t we continue?” he suggested in a low voice.

“Go away” she muttered trying to release herself from his grasp, “Let me go!”
He managed to turn her face to his, “Why did you do that?”

She didn’t look into his eyes, “None of your business! Go to the party already!”
He touched her hair; it was soft, just like her lips. Her mouth was closed tight and shaking slightly, but still very tempting.

“Somehow, I feel you were trying to use me, maybe trying to stage a little show in front of your brother?”

She pressed her arms against his chest and tried to push herself away from him; her dressing gown fell down to her shoulders.

“No way, I am stronger than you” he smiled.

She stopped. “Ok, I tried to use you. I wanted my brother to be jealous. Now leave me alone!”

“That’s great!” America striped her from her dressing gown, “You think I’m attractive enough so Russia would get envious that you were doing something with me! Naughty girl, have you already tried this trick with Lithuania? I bet that didn’t work.”

Belarus gave him a murderous glance. America put an arm around her and opened the clasp to her bra. To his surprise she didn’t fight as he was tied it round her wrists. He felt a wave of pleasure as her touched her supple chest.

* * *

Russia was sitting at the party and wondered about the situation he had just walked in on. Belarus and America?  It didn’t make sense to Russia. Why did she decide to miss out on the party just to spend some time with that imperial jerk? Did she love him? Russia didn’t really care who Belarus decided to love, as long as it wasn’t him. But really America wasn’t a good choice; maybe she should consult her dear brother before choosing the partner? She was still too young to give away her virginity, especially to a guy like America. Russia sighed; it hurts to lose one of your followers. Maybe it’s an after effect of the Chernobyl? She was more affected than Ukraine; the scientists told him the effects would be long-lasting. So… was this passionate kiss an after effect?

Russia decided to go straight to Belarus and sort things out. He left the club and went back home, the kitchen was empty but he heard some sounds coming out from the dining room.  Just like in a bizarre porn movie, he opened the door to find Belarus on the table with her hands tied up reaching the sweetest climax with America.