RussPruss And Shit

[hi]

Ivan wasn't much sure how he found himself in Gilbert's home--it wasn't much his fault anyhow, the Austrian was the one driving anyways... which did make sense, in retrospect, ending up here. He shrugged it off, anyways, seating himself on Gilbert's couch.

"Oi, and then I was like -- HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS RUSSIAN BASTARD DOING IN MY HOUSE?!" Gilbert dropped his phone during his freak out.

He stormed over to the couch, leaning over the tall bastard.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Ivan gave him a lop-sided smile. "Ah, hello~" He chimed, cocking his head. "I was... brought here, I suppose."

"What the FUCK?!" he screamed, nearly tearing out his hair. "Get the fuck out of my house, you fucking psycho! Nobody gave you the fucking permission to be in here!! I'm calling West!!"

"Except... Ludwig was with me. I do not think he will side with you..." He stated, almost gleefully. Easily, he grabbed the other man's hand and tugged him down into his lap.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING," he demanded, squirming as he tried to escape the other man. "LET ME GO YOU PSYCHO!"

Ivan chuckled to himself and simply squished the other man, drawing him in closer and pressing a silly, strangely sloppy kiss to his cheek.

Repulsed, he stuck out his tongue.

"EW!" he squealed, trying to push him away. "What the fuck?! I don't want vodka saliva all over my beautiful, beautiful face, you bitch!"

Ivan only laughed, easily keeping him in place all the same. "Ahh, come now! You are cute when you fight but I would rather you didn't..."

Gilbert raised his fist to punch him.

"I'll fucking do it!" he warned. "I will punch your ugly mug!"

Instead, Ivan just grabbed his hand and twisted it behind his back. "...Oh?~"

Gilbert ground his teeth together.

"Let. Go." he replied, narrowing his eyes.

"Hm. Maybe if you say please?" He smiled wider, twisting him slightly more.

He watched him carefully.

"...no."

"...Then I will not let you go." He hummed, allowing the arm to go back to a natural pose, but instead took his fingers and wiggled them.

He pulled his arm back and punched the other man square in the jaw.

"Fuck off, you stupid fucking Russian sonuva bitch!" he shouted, finally getting to his feet.

Ivan cocked his head slightly, not quite noticing the punch, really. "...I have always wondered why you brush me off."

"Wait...what? When did you decide to talk about stupid shit?" he demanded angrily. "Just shut up and get out, I don't give a shit!"

"I am drunk, you silly man, I can't make my way home on my own!" He chuckled, flopping onto the couch and stretching, totally getting his boots on it.

"Take off your shoes, fatass!" he shouted, growling angrily. "Just...take your fucking shoes off and we can talk or something, is that what you want?!"

With yet another laugh, he tugged off the boots to no real avail. "Oh deeeeeaaar." He grunted.

Gilbert growled, but he undid the shoelaces on Ivan's boots and pulled them off, throwing them towards the door.

"Fine, talk or some shit."

Ivan gave him a wide smile. "Thank you~" He chuckled. "Well, I'm not too sure why you hate me so much~"

Gilbert stared at him.

"The fuck does it matter?! You're an asshole and I hate you!" he snapped, refusing to admit the real reasoning.