A/N: Written as a request. Human names are used in this fic: Mathilde is Belgium, Lars is the Netherlands, and Ukraine is Yekaterina. Implied smut at the end, if that bothers you turn around now.

Lars was surprised at how quickly Mathilde pushed him out of her house that morning.

"I'm busy all day today, so please get out of my house," Mathilde said in one breath. Lars looked up at her as he ate breakfast. He even ate the waffles she made for him, all gooey and topped with fresh strawberries and powdered sugar. She even begged him with the sappiest, most pathetically pleading puppy-eyes he had ever seen. She knew Lars could never resist them. And now? She was kicking him out for no reason. How sweet of her...

Mathilde met at his gaze expectantly, clearly unamused at Lars's lack of movement.

"What? Why should I move? These waffles are fucking delicious," Lars said, taking another bite after he finished speaking.

"I have very important business to attend to that's none of your business right now. So move your lazy bum out of my seat and get moving," Mathilde explained firmly. Lars sighed deeply, and moved his unfinished plate to the sink.

"I'll bake you more waffles if you do as I ask!" Mathilde sing-songed.

"If you insist. I'll leave now, I guess," Lars said, and Mathilde screeched in joy, then promptly gave Lars a bone-crushing hug. What Lars did for his sister was astounding.

Now that he was out of her house in one piece, he was baffled. What would he do now with all of this free time? He could see a film, but nothing interested him. Plus it costed money, and he didn't want to spend anything if he didn't have to. Besides, there were more fun things he could do with his time. Lars' mind raced, and he couldn't deal with all of these thoughts clogging up his mind. Taking a leisurely stroll sounded nice right about now. He did just that. The more he walked, the better he felt. Before Lars knew it, he'd walked almost six full miles.

Truthfully, he wasn't sure how he managed to walk so much in what felt like such a short amount of time. He preferred to ride his bicycle everywhere, and foolishly forgot to bring it when Mathilde rushed him out of her house. He sat down at a nearby bench to regain his lost breath. Lars hadn't noticed how tired he'd gotten over the course of his stroll that somehow managed to turn into something more intense. Lars checked his watch, and decided enough time had passed from his stroll.

"Guess it's time to go back to Mathilde's and claim my waffle reward," thought Lars as he walked back to Mathilde's house.

He rang her doorbell once, then waited. Nothing happened. Afterward, he tried knocking fervently to assert that he was back. Still, nothing happened. Lars shrugged.

"She's probably napping or showering or something. Guess she can't hear me," he mused, and then opened the door, which, for some strange reason, was unlocked. In the living room, Lars saw Mathilde entangled with Yekaterina Braginskaya in a naked embrace, their soft torsos pressing together. Mathilde looked up at him desperately, as if she were a deer in the headlights. Yekaterina blushed a deep shade of red, and the look on her face screamed embarrassment at being caught in the middle of sex with his sister. Lars too became speechless and turned redder than Yekaterina, if that was even possible.

"I...guess I'll come back for my stuff then."