It was midnight and Francois Bonnefoy couldn't sleep. He hasn't for a couple days now. He hasn't been able to, because he cut his leg on some glass from a drunken Germany coming into his house, and destroying most of Francois' wine glasses. The cut had been so deep, he ended up getting seven stitches on his right leg. It wasn't the stitches that bothered him exactly, 'cause he could still walk, it was the fact he hadn't had intercourse with his many men and women in awhile since they found his wound a "turn off", or "disgusting". So, since he's pretty much been rejected by all his lovers, he decided to take a walk alone.

Francois did not like the feeling of being rejected for sex one bit. It sucked. Him not being able to find a sex partner caused him to become a distracted, clumsy idiot. It aggravated him.

Sometime in the night he ended up by Russia's house, in his sunflower field to be exact, and passed out. Now, Francois was staring up at a high ceiling, and laying on an unfamiliar bed.

"Hello there, Francois." Francois felt a chill down his back. He knew that sweet voice. It was the voice of Ivan Braginski, also known as Russia. The most feared person among the other nations.

"Ru-Russia?" Francois shrieked, almost falling off the bed.

"Da?" Ivan flashed Francois an innocent, sweet smile.

Francois instantly calmed down at the younger nation's childish smile. "What am I doing here?"

"Oh, you see," Ivan giggled, "you were passed out in my sunflower fields."

"Huh? Oh… Well, thank you for letting me sleep here." Francois said gratefully.

"Da. You are welcome." Ivan replied.

Suddenly, Francois started laughing his evil French laugh.

"What is it?" The younger, and larger nation asked curiously.

"Oh… I was just thinking of-" Francois cut himself off.

"Of? Of how you would like to take me to your bed, like those other many men and women?" Ivan was now glaring intently at Francois.

"H-huh? W-what?" Francois staggered while getting up from the bed, his face a bright red color.

Ivan Braginski just answered with his menacing growl that sounded like, "kol, kol, kol, kol…" It made Francois Bonnefoy cringe. He did not want to die today. He rather stay alive long enough to get Arthur in his bed, again.

At last Francois spoke, "I'm very sorry, Ivan. That may have been what I was thinking, but that was only a thought. I won't try anything, I promise. Just as long as I'm able to stay alive today, and maybe tomorrow… And the day after that, then the day after that… Anyways, the point is, I won't try to bed you if you promise not to kill me, okay?"

Ivan stopped his growling, and gave a small innocent, but not so innocent giggle. "Da, I will not kill you… Yet… At least not until you do something really stupid… So, da, I promise."

As Ivan said this Francois got lost in the big, tall Russian's violet eyes. They were absolutely… BEAUTIFUL… But that could even be an understatement. Looking deeper into Ivan's eyes, Francois noticed something in his eyes. It was sadness, mixed with a bit of longing…

"Mr. Bonnefoy?" Ivan asked. He had been talking to the small Frenchman about staying at his house till his leg got better, but he had obviously gone into his own world of, probably, sexual fantasies.

Francois snapped to attention when he heard Ivan say his name. "Huh?" Francois looked up at the Russian, "Sorry, I was not listening. I was thinking… Thinking of how lonely it must be in this big house of yours…"

"Hm? Oh, I'm not lonely. I've got my three Baltic States, and my sisters visit me once and awhile." The sadness in Ivan's eyes got more prominent as he said this.

"Ivan, don't lie to me… Oh! I've got a BRILLIANT idea! How about I stay here till my leg gets better?" Francois said, excitedly. He didn't know why, but he wanted the sadness in Ivan's eyes to go away. Even if it's just for a little while.

Ivan just smiled slightly, trying not to laugh loudly at the older nation's obliviousness. "Da, you may stay." And this is how their relationship began.