A Hero For Belarus
Summary: Russia's tired of Belarus always stalking him with her bizarre obsession. Perhaps she needs some sort of hobby...or a hero...BelxAme One-shot!
So, yeah. Somehow I kinda started thinking that this pairing would be sorta cute. I dunno why, but I just did. And I was looking at pictures, and I just kept thinking "cute!" or "creepy, but cute" and then I was inspired for this fic. :3 Hope you enjoy!
America had no idea why he was agreeing to do this. Not a clue. Right now, he was standing in the middle of a fancy looking ballroom in France's fancy French mansion wearing a suit...and a wig.
Why was the American wearing a wig? Well, Russia asked him to do a favor...
A few days earlier:
"Amerika? Can I ask something?" Russia asked, keeping the American from rushing out the door of the conference building and to the nearest McDonald's.
"Sure, Russia," America replied, going over to him. "What is it?"
"You know about my little sister, da? Belarus?"
America gave a little shiver. Of course he did. How could he not? Everyone knew about Belarus. She was the psycho girl with a knife and a crazed obsession with her brother. "Yes, I know her. Why..?" He was starting to get a little nervous already.
"So you know she has insane crush on me, da?" America nodded and Russia continued. "You know France's birthday party is this weekend, and my sister will be there with all the other nations. I do not want to go because Belarus will be trying to get me to m-marry her..." The taller nation shuddered and looked scared for a brief second. Then he smiled at America in a way that made him feel uncomfortable. "Anyways, that is where a certain hero will come in..."
America gulped. "O-oh? What would I have to do?"
"Dress like me at the party and let Belarus stalk you."
"What! No way!"
"But you are a hero, da?"
"So you'll do it?"
"I'll give you two months worth of hamburgers."
So now America was here. At France's birthday party. Dressed like Russia. Well, not totally like Russia. He had put on a wig similar to the Russian's hairstyle and he had bought himself violet contacts for his eyes (which were really starting to bother him). He kept his glasses his jacket pocket, just in case. He had borrowed a scarf from Russia (even though it was freakin' July and it was too hot to be wearing one) and wore it wrapped around his neck so it hid most of his mouth and chin. He was also wearing his nice black suit (since all of France's parties pretty much had a formal dress code) with a pale blue shirt and black tie. God, it was really getting hot with this scarf...He was going to make sure Russia paid for this...
"Brother, there you are!" The Belarusian girl came running up behind him and wrapped her arms tightly around him. "Oh, Russia, I've been looking all over for you. We sho-" She frowned as she stepped in front of him and got a better look of his face. Her eyes narrowed. "You are not my brother."
America's eyes went wide and he started to panic. Belarus could be really scary if she was angry enough. "I-I'm sorry to trick you like this, Belarus," he stuttered. "But, uh, Russia couldn't make it, and, uh, he wanted to make sure you came tonight and h-had a good time, so he made me pretend to be him so you w-wouldn't get lonely..?" That sounded like a good excuse. Maybe it would make his death quick and painless.
Belarus folded her arms over her chest and arched an eyebrow at the American, staring him down for what seemed like a very long time. Finally, she sighed and seemed to relax a little. "My brother is so nice and caring..." she murmured to herself. America exhaled, relieved. "You're lucky I don't have my knife with me tonight."
"Heh, yeah," America laughed nervously. He took off the wig, contacts, and scarf and placed his glasses back on his nose. Much better, he thought as he unbuttoned his suit jacket. He glanced over at Belarus, watching her out of the corner of his eye. She stood there next to him, wearing a nice strapless black dress with a matching black ribbon in her hair. She actually didn't look half bad...Pretty, even. He found himself smiling a little.
Belarus caught him and turned to look at him. "What are you smiling at?" she asked.
"Huh? Oh, nothing," he replied, rubbing the back of his head and looking sheepish. "It's just...you look really pretty."
Belarus blinked and looked surprised. A light blush tinted her cheeks and she turned her head away to hide it, looking irritated that such a comment from the idiotic American would make her blush. "Thanks," she grumbled. She glanced at him, wondering if she should return the compliment. "You look nice as well."
The American grinned. "Thanks. As a hero, it's good to look my best!" he chuckled.
Belarus rolled her eyes. Idiot...
"Um, well, I'm gonna go and, like, socialize..." America said. "Try and have some fun, 'kay?" When Belarus didn't respond, he shrugged and went off to find Japan or someone to hang out with.
Belarus was left alone...
The party had been going on for hours. People were dancing, talking, and drinking some of the finest French wine that only France would serve. America had spent most of his time hanging out with Japan, Lithuania, France, and even England...well, until England started insulting him. Then he left the jerk. Now he noticed that Belarus was still where he had left her. All alone. Frowning, he went over to her. "Hey!"
"What do you want?" Belarus demanded, looking at him suspiciously.
America seemed a little hurt. "I was just wondering if you were having any fun..."
"No, I am not," she sighed, closing her eyes. "I wish my brother were here."
"Well, Russia's not here, so you should let it go." That got a nasty glare from the girl that scared America into almost running away. There was a long pause. "Hey, do you want to dance?"
Belarus blinked at him. "What..?"
"Do you want to dance?"
"Because I do not like you."
America blinked. "Why don't you like me?"
"Because you are an idiot. A loud, obnoxious idiot."
Belarus only gave a shrug as an answer. She didn't say anything else.
America sighed. He wasn't giving up this easily. "Come on!" he whined. "Just one dance!"
"Just one! I swear."
"Pleeeaaaasee?" He bent down so he and Belarus were on eye level. He folded his hands together and gave the girl his best big puppy eyes. He pouted for extra effect.
Belarus stared at him coldly until her harsh expression finally softened. Somehow the self-proclaimed hero's blue eyes managed to melt her heart. She sighed and closed her eyes. "Fine. Just one," she muttered.
"Yay!" America cheered, grabbing Belarus by the wrist and dragging her out onto the middle of the ballroom where everyone was dancing. Belarus was quite surprised by the strength of the American as he easily dragged her out onto the floor. They stopped and then America took one of her hands in his and gently placed his other hand on her waist. Then they began to waltz.
France loved classical music and fancy ballroom dances, so he had forced all the countries to learn how to waltz and stuff just for his events. Typical...America hated it. It was too complicated for him. Why couldn't he dance the way he wanted to?
Belarus watched as America tried to remember all the steps that he was supposed to do. That look of frustration on his face was almost...cute. She couldn't help but give a tiny smile. She gasped as America started spinning them around, obviously giving up on trying to waltz properly, and twirling her around the dance floor. He was grinning like an idiot and chuckling. She also started to giggle. Just a little.
The song ended and America smirked at her. "You were having fun, weren't you?" he chuckled. "I saw you laughing, don't deny it."
Belarus smirked in return. "A little bit."
"Ha! I knew it!" America grinned wider and winked. "Hang on, I'll be right back." He ran off, leaving Belarus all alone again.
After six and a half minutes, Belarus had retreated back to the wall where she was before. She stared at her shoes, frowning. What if America had just left her? What if he wasn't coming back? What if-?
Belarus's head snapped up, hearing the American's voice over the speakers in the ballroom.
"I think it's time to get this party started!"
What happened next was quite entertaining. The classical music went off, which sent France into a roaring fit-England found that entertaining. And then another song came on. Everybody knew what it was right away.
"Party in the USA" by Miley Cyrus. Only America would.
America came running back to where Belarus was. He grinned. "Better?"
Belarus snickered and nodded. "Oh, yes. Much better."
"Fuck yeah!" America yelled, giving a thumbs up and grinning that idiotic smile of his. He looked back at Belarus. "You wanna dance?"
Belarus blinked, but then smiled. "Sure," she replied. "Sounds fun."
America looked a little surprised, not expecting a yes right away. He smiled. "Awesome!" he laughed, pulling Belarus with him where the rest of the crowd was dancing.
It was very...interesting, Belarus decided. She watched America dance and smirked. He wasn't terrible, but he wasn't very good either...
"Come on, dance!" America demanded, grabbing her hands in his and attempting to make her dance with him. She laughed and gave in shortly, dancing along with him. It was actually kind of magical. She found herself blushing every time she got close to the American and they touched. Perhaps, she could use a hero in her life...maybe.
The party seemed to end too quickly for Belarus. She was starting to really have some fun...
"Hey, where are you staying?" America asked her as they headed out together.
"I'm staying at the hotel around the corner from here," Belarus replied.
"Oh, well, um, maybe I could, you know, walk you back?" he suggested, rubbing the back of his head nervously. "You know, Paris isn't really all the great for a young girl to be walking around by herself, so I thought I'd be heroic and go with you to protect you...Cause I'm a hero..."
Belarus gave a little chuckle. "Sure. I would like that."
America grinned. "Sweet!" He noticed Belarus shiver and wrap her arms around herself when they got outside. "Are you cold? Here..." He took off his jacket and carefully placed it over her shoulders.
"Oh, um...thanks," the Belarusian murmured, her cheeks tinting a light red. The rest of the walk to the hotel was awkwardly quiet. The two of them reached the front steps and stopped outside the door, facing each other.
"So, uh, I had a fun time tonight," America said, blushing and looking nervous. "A really fun time. D-did you have fun?"
Belarus nodded. "Yes, I did."
The American grinned proudly. "Cool, I'm glad."
There was an awkward silence between them.
"Well, um..." Belarus turned to go inside. "Good ni-" As Belarus turned to go, America had grabbed her wrist and spun her around to face him. He leaned down and he planted a soft kiss on her lips, causing her face to turn bright red and her violet eyes to go wide. It was a few seconds before America pulled back, his face just as red.
"Oh, sorry! Sorry, sorry, sorry! I didn't mean to! I have no idea...Please don't kill me!"
But Belarus just smiled at him. "It's fine," she whispered, reaching up to kiss him again. At first, America was a little shocked, but then he returned the gesture. It was nice. He tasted like hamburgers and coffee, and she tasted like winter. This time, the kiss lasted longer and it turned more passionate. When the two of them pulled away, America rested his forehead on Belarus's, keeping his hand placed on her cheek. He smiled at her and she smiled back.
"Good night, Belarus."
"Good night, America." They shared another kiss before Belarus went inside. Having a hero for herself didn't sound too bad after all...
Gah, such a corny ending in my mind! ." Anyways, hoped you guys enjoyed it!
Please read and review! Reviewers get free pasta~! :3