OH HELLO ALL

Enjoy this wonderful crack pairing I seem to love so much.

I don't own Hetalia; which is why it's in Fanfiction. Durr.

Today, he was going to be a man.

Well, he has always been a man, but that was not the point.

Totally not the point.

The point was that today, there will be no cute pleated skirt with lace at the bottom and adorable pink belt. No v-neck matching shirt that had just the right flow and a pair of kitten heels that made him feel absolutely fabulous. The kind of fabulous that made him squeal out loud and call his number one BFF of all time, like Oh My God, and tell him in great detail how utterly-

No, he stopped himself. Today was not the time to dwell on that, oh no. Today he had a pair of faded jeans that were two sized too big, which caused the boxers he painfully forced himself to wear to peak over the top. (He once heard jeans were suppose to be ten sized too big, but like there was no effing way, swear to God he was going to wear that much baggage. Like, for totes.) Also to his horror there was a hole at his knee.

The wife beater and scratchy foe-leather jacket wasn't making him feel better any. And as much as his inner self was crying and having a little screaming bitch fit to take them off please, please they're making me itch and sweet Jesus these sneakers are clunky and his feet are going to smell and now no one can appreciate his pedicure and -!; he shoved it to the back of his mind, because this is what men wore right?

With a deep intake of breath, Feliks Łukasiewicz shoved on a pair of black sunglasses, and walked out of the shared house of Germany and Prussia. Because these cloths were Gilbert's and like hell Feliks owned any of this himself.

(Germany was rather confused to see the Pol leave his brothers room in his brother CLOTHS no less and out of his house, especially when he never remembered the cross dresser to have came over)

Feliks felt naked as he walked to his destination, despite being fully clothed. The jeans (which he now dubbed "The Ugly Jeans", because he did not feel pretty in them, and when cloths did not make Feliks Łukasiewicz feel pretty, they were ugly) kept sagging over his hips, which he continually had to pull up, making the walk a rather difficult and frustrating one.

This was torture for him really; but when in love men do crazy things.

And Feliks was totally, fabulously in love. Like, holding your hand on the beach watching the sun set love.

He met her (yes, her. Did you think he would do this for a man? Like hell to the no~!) on a random chance at a random meeting. He was sure she has been to them many times before; he just never quite took notice of her. Or rather felt the need to as Feliks believed she had a crazy mother fucking brother with a scary gun and Oh my God he's shooting at things again-!

Ahem.

The random chance being that on one particular day the normal seating arrangements (as in, this is where I sat on the first day, and this is where I will be sitting for the rest of time and forever) were jacked up, because Russia suddenly wanted to sit next to America, which caused Belarus to move which caused Latvia and Estonia to take this distraction and use it and sit where China usually sat and- you get the point. So Poland ended up wedged between Austria and Switzerland and it was totally awkward and Leit was all the way over there and Poland wanted to be there not here and-

That was when he saw her. It wasn't the cute little ribbon tied in her short blond hair, or her just plain little adorableness that made Netherlands cream his pants at. No, it was her shoes. The light pink little lacy wedge heels and white stockings that had a pink trim at the top and a sweet little bow.

The exact same pair and stocking combination as him.

Exact. Same. It was adorable. It was wonderful. It totally was destiny.

Once the meeting was over Poland fell all over himself in both fear of Switzerland and his gun) and nervous stuttering goo because Liechtenstein was really sinfully cute and oh my God she folds a napkin in her lap when eating and she just saw him and she smiled, oh my God.

He waved- or tried to, until Vash looked his way and his glare made him hide behind Lithuania. Fortunately Poland got his chance to talk to her the next day of meetings at the end of it when France deemed it necessary to strip naked and run down the halls. Switzerland found it just as necessary to chase after him with guns blazing, leaving Lilly alone and unattended.

Poland took a seat next to her in the slowly emptying meeting room. (Netherlands looked like he was about to try and take the seat from him but Belgium dragged him away by the ear.)

"Like...uhm...hi"

Smooth Łukasiewicz, smooth.

Feliks had come to find out (and he would never admit this out loud) that she was just as shy as he was when it came to new people. It was very...endearing, in its own way. Her cheeks would color softly and her fingers would fiddle and tilt her hear to the side.

In a span of what felt like only a few minutes Poland learned Liechtenstein was very easy for him to talk to. There was this air about her that just made you feel easy (and squishy and bubbly).

After that they found themselves talking more and more as days went by. Slowly a relationship happened. Poland couldn't stop thinking about Lilly and Liechtenstein couldn't stop thinking about Feliks.

On their first official date, Poland lost count of how many times he squealed at how much of an adorable little doll she was. It was fun, it felt right, and Switzerland didn't shoot him.

Vash did pop up out from a tree, scaring Poland shitless and almost ruining his new skirt. He was about to shoot when for some reason Leit popped out of the same tree and tackled the over protective Swiss to the ground, disrupting whatever horror was about to be unleashed.

Poland took Liechtenstein by the hand and ran. A few second into the run somehow, both began to laugh in fits and they ended up in a park. Still laughing they sat on a park bench, where they proceeded to giggle themselves silly.

When the laughter quieted down Feliks remembered their hands and looked down at them. Both still held onto the other and Poland couldn't help but feel how right it was and his brain fuzzed like cherry soda with all the cheesy romantic things he was feeling.

He was tingling all over, the grin wouldn't leave his face and when Lilly squeezed his hand just so, Poland thought he would die of bubbly-silly-I'm-so-totally-in-love-with-you bliss.

Liechtenstein must have felt it too because her cheeks flared up but she smiled something pretty before lying her head on his shoulder.

As they sat in that park, on their silly first date, Poland for the first time in his life felt like a man (in a totally girly, absolutely cute skirt, heels and shiny lip gloss, but that was beside the point).

And he kind of liked it.

So here he was, wearing nasty man cloths out of Prussia's closet and marching, awkwardly, to meet Lilly for another date; this being their umpteenth.

After a revelation given to him from Netherlands (in a totally bitchy "you're not good enough for this chick that looks like one of my weird-o loli fantasies" man talks) Feliks suddenly felt a little bit insecure about his role in the relationship.

Where Feliks found Lars weird, questionable, and for 99% of the time stoned off his ass, he was also a man.

A manly man.

And real men date pretty little girls.

Liechtenstein was pretty, but Poland was pretty too.

Poland was definitely not a manly man.

Lilly needed a real man to protect her and make her feel like a woman. She deserved that, a little sweet angel with the cute factor of ten thousand kittens playing with yarn.

But like hell Feliks was going to let that stop him. ("Like, fuck you tweaker, I can, like, be more of a man than you'll ever be. And, like, leave my air, your pot stink is totally getting in my eyes, so not cool, like yuck nasty.")

Rounding a corner Poland spotted his date, and halted. Taking a deep breath he adjusted Prussia's sunglasses and did his very best manly man walk. Hands tucked into the Ugly Jeans and all.

Only to trip over his own feet and fall right in front of her. Goddamn these big clunky shoes!

"Feliks, what-?" He heard Lilly start to question. He scrambled up, and tried to regain his composure.

Liechtenstein was looking as cute as always; and oh, oh she had on am adorable white sun hat with a yellow bow and he wanted it-!

No, manly man. Today Feliks was to be a man.

"'Sup"

...

Awkward silence.

Liechtenstein gave him a once over, confusion very evident on her face, before she covered her mouth and let out a string of giggles, which turned into all out laughter. It got so bad she leaned over as though she would fall over from laughing, shoulder shaking.

Poland blanched. "W-why are you laughing? Hey Lillllllyyyyyyy-!"

This was upsetting; here he was in Ugly Jeans trying his best for the girl he fell hard for only to be laughed at in public-

No, Feliks Łukasiewicz will not cry. He will not, because he was a man and real men don't cry when cute girls laugh at them. His eyes were totally not tearing up right now and his lower lip was so not wibbling.

He also seriously did not sniff just now. He was looking down at the ground, glaring at it like a man would and not pouting.

Once her laughter died and she took a second to breathe normally, Lilly asked what he was he doing? Poland glanced up from the glare fest he was having with ground to her (and he loved her eyes, so really green and right now they were all glittery from her laughing and they were looking right at him and his heart needed to shut-up because she could so hear it, he swore).

"I'm being the man." He gave way, mumbling and still not pouting. Nor was he blushing because manly men don't blush.

A mix of curiosity and amusement flashed over Lilly's features before she covered her mouth with her hand and giggled again. Poland frowned in irritation.

"LIKE STOP LAUGHING-!" He felt indignant, scandalized, embarrassed, and every form of the word where you feel like a lame loser. He really was about to cry when Liechtenstein took off her sun hat and placed it on his head. Feliks blinked away his almost tears.

Lilly leaned in close until they were nose to nose, smiling sweetly. "Don't change for me, okay?"

This time Feliks admitted to himself that yes, he was going to cry, but in joy because oh my God he had the best girlfriend ever and he let out a loud shrill squeal and smothered the girl in a hug.

"Oh my God Lilly you're like, the best ever, I love you~~!"

Okay so maybe Poland was never meant for manly-ness; skirts and lace where his thing.

But he was still Liechtenstein's man, and that's all that mattered. Even if half his wardrobe matched his girlfriends.

Netherlands could go suck it.

During that date the couple went cloths shopping where Feliks got himself a new outfit for that evening; but no skirt, instead he got a pair of women's skinny jeans and hot pink tank top, still determined to be the man that night.

He got new heels though. They made him feel fabulous.

Some days later after yet another meeting of Nations, Poland challenged Netherlands to a running contest in three inch heels.

Feliks won.

Happy End.

Lars = fanon name for Netherlands.

Lilly = fanon name for Liechtenstein