A/N: For my dude... you know the drill ^^

And I might be mildly retarded but... YOLO! Enjoy~

It was something the American usually did every night at this time as second nature. He would typically fill the porcelain bathtub halfway, making sure to add some of the bottle of bubble bath that never seized to create thick layers of foam on the water. But the Russian was only an inexperienced substitute standing in for his lover, who was now 2 weeks into his business trip halfway around the world in god-knows-where. A light-haired gentle giant cracked a modest smile as he pressed down on the lid of the container with a snap and lifted himself off his knees, throwing a folded towel over a shoulder. Giving an affirming nod, he turned to stand in the doorway with his back to his perfectly calculated concoction. Of course, it had to be perfect, right? The notes of scribble left on the table were written by the master of such things.

"марк!" Ivan called out, clapping his hands together. He awaited for the familiar sounds of a toddler clumsily but slowly progressing down the stairs. To his surprise, the sounds never came.

"...марк?" Inquiring eyes ascended upward along the staircase as he grasped the wooden bars that supported the sturdy railing.

"N-n-noooo!" A close voice wailed. His young son was frozen on the top step, clutching a tan stuffed bunny rabbit with long, floppy ears and a cute black button nose. The boy's naturally large purple eyes squinted as large drops of tears make it hard for him to see.

When he saw the child with his most prized possession, the Russian's coy smile returned. "There you are!" he sang, reaching for the boy's hand through the bars to encourage him to start making his way down. "Ah - you can do it! Show mama how you're a big boy now!"

Seeing that this was getting nowhere anytime fast, Ivan shifted his weight back into his heels and casually made way to the foot of the stairs. His light pink cotton scarf fell over his shoulder when he extended his arms wide, coming out of a beautiful twirl. Normally, Ivan wouldn't give in so soon, as he was the stern parent that kept his child in check, but it was becoming increasingly dark outside and was dangerously approaching the young tot's bedtime. With a late bedtime came serious consequences for Ivan as he often tried to avoid sleepless nights filled with crying and the recently-founded tantrums. As much as he loved spending time with his child, he still had things to accomplish in the morning. After all, he was still a nation with many daunting responsibilities and deadlines.

The small child trembled in fear, quickly learning at a young age not to take the Russian at face value. "No! No!" he screamed, over exaggerating by falling right on his behind and crying hysterically just like any child in their 'terrible twos' would do.

Before the boy could open his eyes, he felt a familiar rough, callused hand lift his bangs against his forehead to press a kiss there. Mark's eyes fluttered open as they focused on a way shorter Ivan laying against the stairs, keeping his weight balanced with his elbows. How such a large man was always so quick, the child would sadly never know! The man's own violet eyes softened, and the boy's cries were instantly silenced. "Do you feel better now, Милый?" he said in a whisper.

"..?"

"Now that you're ok, let's go. I'm fun too, just like papa!"

"N-No! No! Wahhhhh!" The light haired little tot let out another cry, just a level lower than if his limbs were being cut off. The child was definitely a spinning image of his other, much younger parent, who always seemed to escalate situations with unrefined emotions daily. In the midst of the ruckus, Ivan swiftly swept his son up into his arms, placing a soft but firm palm against his small back.

"Ahh.. it's alright. I'm sorry, I'll make sure to call Auntie next time!" Ivan lightly tapped the tip of his nose.

Falling surprisingly silent, the child hiccuped with a blank stare as thoughts of his terrifying aunt throwing him into a tub of scalding hot water crept into his mind. "Wash yourself!" she would order after poorly preparing the bath, only filling with an inch of water, and providing the child with a sole crude bar of soap... and no toys! Little did Mark know that his young aunt was still a child herself, eager to please her brother in many strange ways unique to only Belarus...

"Now that's a good boy!" His blonde father encouraged, careful not to loosen his grip when he gave the washroom door a light push. Balancing the boy against his hip, he snatched the rabbit in his possession nonchalantly with a free hand.

"Little Peter needs to sit out on this one," Ivan said effortlessly. He anticipated another cry in protest, and smiled when it reached his ears. So predictable, his child and his boyfriend- it was just like clockwork every time.

Tiny, frantic hands grasped at the air. His fingertips grazed the fuzzy fabric of the rabbit's paw. "Mm! Питер... gimme!"

"Ah," Russia blinked and his eyes widened in curiosity. He turned his attention back to him, quick on his feet to provide assurance. "I can't just put him in there. I'll give him his own little bath later, how's that sound? A special one just for little bunnies!"

Well, it sounded nice. The child simply obliged, content that his best friend would get his own special treatment. As much as Ivan wanted to see his son happy, he couldn't help but feel a little sad that he favored the rabbit above all his other toys. No toy train or handcrafted stuffed animal could make him happier than that cheap bastard's gift. Sometimes he hated his husband, really, even for trivial things such as this Ivan always bought higher quality things for their only son, so why did Mark love something so ratty, and classless …[and probably not made in America anyway?]

The Russian's lips curled into a wicked smirk. The stupid rabbit would look better in flames…

"Nn…"

Ivan was thrown out of deep thought and found the boy peering over the edge of the tub, sheepishly slipping a tiny finger through the curtain of bubbles. He must have placed him down without any thought. Ivan quickly fell on his knees and hugged his little son against his torso. "Come here~"

Without much effort, Ivan lowered Mark into the bath, careful to keep his own scarf out of the way. Mark instantly locked eyes on his bathtime pal, Odetta: a small and white rubber duck bearing the name of one of Ivan's favorite works of all time. Mark reached for the toy and instantly gnawed on one of her wings, for he was a toddler going through the final stages of teething.

"Одетта is glad to see you," Ivan smiled and let out a giggle, dipping a washcloth into the water. He began to wipe down the toddler's arms, making sure to spread the water evenly against his skin. "But be nice to her, yeah? You'll scare her away if you do that!" He popped the cap of baby shampoo, the familiar and comforting powdery smell reaching his sinuses.

Mark complied, not because he was listening to Ivan, but because he wished to throw the duck against the wall with a loud smack, which was done a few times during the course of the bath. This was daily routine, and Alfred often laughed about it, so it was no surprise to him. It was no doubt the child was a strong one - after all, his parents were two massive superpowers, were they not? Poor Odetta. Five minutes passed as the Russian washed him up, making sure to lather and rinse thoroughly, saving his hair for last.

In the midst of the child's laughter, the doorbell sounded. Being interrupted in the midst of any duty irked him. Ivan released a tired, annoyed sigh from the bottom of his lungs to ready a yell. "I left it unlocked, come in!"

The front door of the apartment opened just a crack; round, blue eyes darting left and right, scanning the room. The door hinges squeaking was an indication to Ivan that the stranger was probably making their way across the living room and past the open kitchen.

"Hohoho~! Merry Christmas!" There was a familiar jiggling...

Ivan turned his head to the soft yet enthusiastic female's voice in the bathroom doorway. His big sister, dressed rather fancy and full of 'holiday cheer', carried a large, grayish-black sack over her shoulder. The low-cut, short green dress with a buckle didn't help conceal any of her above-average cleavage as she bent over, awaiting a response from the two. The shirt almost bursted at the seams!

Ivan blushed at his provocatively dressed sibling, quickly turning his head and averting his attention elsewhere. "A-ahhh… doesn't… doesn't Santa usually say something like that..?"

"Oh my, does he? Oopsie!"

"Elf!" Mark said matter-of-factly before Ivan hurriedly grabbed his shoulders and turned him just enough to shield him from the constant… jiggling.

"Yes, Mark, an elf~"

She dropped the empty sack against the door and kneeled down beside the foot of the tub, close to the small window at the end of the room. Her skirt hiked up just a bit too much for Ivan's tastes, and he opened his mouth to ask her kindly but quickly closed it when she gave Mark a kiss on the cheek. "What would you like for Christmas, дорогой?" ^_^

"Quack!" Mark slammed his arms against his side, trying his best to imitate the flapping of wings.

Ivan hung his head and muttered under his breath. "He… He wants a duck -"

It was a strange request. The boy's aunt "Ah, a duck…?" Inquiring minds wanted to know!

"да!" Mark clapped.

"W-well, I'm sure I can ask Santa to-"

The Russian's eyes fell closed, arms crossed sternly. "-нет. I will not have a duck in my house. Don't even think about your farms, either."

"He's mean, isn't he?!" Ukraine bit her lip as her blue orbs welled up with tears. She seemed more concerned about this than Mark was, who now was now dragging Odetta through the air, making various airplane noises. He was in his own little world now… maybe up in the clouds somewhere, traveling the world… being a world-famous jet pilot!

Smiling from ear to ear, Ivan sat back on his feet, taking the building pressure off of his knees. He looked over to Katyusha who was now beside him, fixated on the little boy with a serene, content expression. She rested her elbows against the brim of the tub and let out a long, dreamy sigh. "I love babies~ Oh, brother, he's so cute! I just wanna squeeze him and love him forever and ev-"

" -Why didn't you go through those papers?"

Katyusha froze, her hand holding her elbow. She did not want to see her brother's face, for she knew it was probably something twisted and sinister and would make her burst into tears. She started slowly, "I-I…"

Ivan's eyes were half-mast, taking mental notes of an uneasy Ukraine. "Let me ask you again. Why didn't you go through those papers?"

His eyes were piercing through her, she could feel it! The stack of papers gave her so many sleepless nights and grueling long days, and she could not escape the media who obsessed about it around the clock. Signing contracts and establishing ties with this and that country - Ukraine was still getting used to conducting business. She wasn't ready to hurt anyone, potentially her dear little brother, whom she was so protective of. She hated being the center of any political debate or unwanted negative attention, for all she wanted was to please everyone. Sadly, she knew she'd have to come to a decision soon, and not everyone was going to like the outcome...

She quickly threw her head to the side and attempted to dodge the question, and his pressing, successfully. "I haven't thought about it, really! I've been so busy and..."

"- Katyusha!" Her brother exclaimed, reaching over to take a grab of her hands. He pressed them together with his own, looking down, and continued rather clumsily. "I… What do y-you think about th-"

Echoes of a soft bell ringing bounced off the apartment walls, notifying him and his Ukrainian sister of an uninvited guest now at the front door. He sighed deeply, a tad bit annoyed he was constantly interrupted.

"You can get it," Katyusha said breathlessly, bending over to pull the plug out of the drain. She whisked Mark up and promptly lowered him onto the fuzzy white bath mat beneath them. "I'll watch my little nephew for a bit, hmm? It's been such a long time since I've been with him!" With a pat on his head, Katyusha wrapped the soft cotton towel, provided by Ivan, around the toddler and pressed him against her chest in a great big bear hug.

He muttered a silent prayer as her full chest was, as always. in danger of smothering anyone. Ivan shuddered, reaching out slightly for his son. "T-there's been… reasons… please don't kill my son…" His face turned sour as he received a teary-eyed glare and lifted his hands submissively. "O-okay! I'm g-going…"

Adjusting his weight, he stood up to make way towards the door. Ivan was just as clueless as his sister, not expecting any company, since Alfred was the one who usually invited guests to their home for holidays and various sports gatherings. But he sure did wonder how that idiot was doing on the eve of this Christmas. Not that it concerned Ivan: Christmas wasn't such a big deal for him, but he was concerned for Mark's sake. However, always and forever, the dimwit American did as he wished. How selfish and typical...

He turned the knob, the bell ringing once more as the sound joined the clanking of a belt decorated with jingle bells that hung against the door.

Light, crystalline blue eyes met his purple. The young, tall Santa before him excitedly raised an arm in greetings. "Hallo~! Merry Christm-"

Clunk!

Before his guest could scream, he found himself on the ground, the large black sack he once held over his shoulder now bursting open with many wrapped gifts. The Russian eased, assessing the damage, and ran a hand over the hook of his trusty pipe when he recognized the stranger.

"п-подсолнечник?" Ivan let out a modest chuckle, careful to keep his voice low enough to prevent the two in the other room from listening in. Without giving much thought to a reason, he could barely contain his excitement and sheer happiness that his husband magically returned to Moscow just in time for Christmas... and in such a fashion!

"Tch! Fuck!" His husband rubbed the back of his head, which was now pulsating and plagued with a warm, tingling sensation. "What was that for? You can't just go and hit anyone, ya know!"

"Mm, how was I to know that you weren't a serial rapist?" Ivan lowered himself softly on to the ground, positioning himself in between Alfred's parted legs. It was appealing to see the young man in this kind of vulnerable state - there for the taking. It had been weeks since he laid hands, or eyes for that matter, on him...

Ivan crawled progressively closer, inch by inch, as he gave him an intense, unwavering stare. "Plus, I have a little one in the house... I mustn't hesitate to use force..."

Alfred could feel his palms become wet with sweat in his black leather gloves. Those deep purples were dangerously mesmerizing... and the American knew it wouldn't be much longer before he'd be swept off his feet in some crazy and overwhelming passion. To save himself, he placed a weary hand against the large man's chest just above his rapidly heart. "You said rapist? Wh-wh-who's the rapist here?!"

Tilting his head at such an entertaining reaction, the Russian grazed the pipe along his tanned skin and lifted his chin just enough to inspect the tears in his eyes. He cracked a smile. "Ah, it's you, husband! And dressed in such a funny suit for me~ I didn't know you were into such roleplays!"

"You're sick," Alfred turned his head. "It's for Mark, not you!"

"Have I been a good boy, Santa?"

That goddamn tone... he was being fucked with again!

Alfred growled, refocusing on some innocent and beautiful amethyst eyes he originally fell in love with that ironically also never seized to frustrate him and drive him mad. There was Ivan: his coat sprawled out around him, straddling his young, blonde husband with flushed, bright red cheeks. He didn't need to deal with Ivan's antics now... and especially in such a provocative position. He just wanted to get out of the hot and itchy Santa suit as soon as possible!

The American gulped nervously as warm, comforting hands cupped his cheeks. He continued to stare intently at the wall beside him and swallowed, his heart pounding fast. "Wh-wh-what are you talking about you commie bast-"

SLAM!

His head slammed into the wooden floor below with a jolt, Ivan's hands now grabbing tightly at the white fur of his collar. He didn't have time to scream - no less react to the extraordinary force that would knock a normal person out cold. Arching his back, the Russian leaned down and kissed him passionately, entangling his long, pale fingers in his lover's messy blonde strands. Alfred was caught off guard and - shockingly - rapidly lost himself in a heat that was desperate and primal. A wispy, trembling moan escaped his lips in between frantic breaths.

"St-st-op.." Alfred inhaled sharply before his breath was simply taken away and claimed. He felt the hands around his collar pull forward as Ivan showed his husband how much he was missed and how he hated him for it. He began to feel his lips bruise.

"Santa!"

The two froze when they heard the familiar child's voice, and Alfred wanted to die right then and there, or at least run back out the door and hide in a random coat closet. Still sitting on his poor victim, Ivan slipped his hands down along the velvety fabric clinging to his chest. He pressed all of his weight down against Alfred's torso with open palms as he turned to see his young son wrapped in a large white towel in his sister's arms. "м-марк.."

Katyusha simply beamed, running over to the collapsed Santa. "Oh, Santa! Did you get my Christmas list?!"

"...Y-you too?" Ivan couldn't believe Katyusha sometimes. With a blank expression, he tried to process everything in a whisper, "But you're supposed to be an elf…"

The lifeless form crushed beneath him whined. "Ho ho... hoo...?"

марк - Mark
Милый - Darling
Питер - Peter
Одетта - Odetta
дорогой - Dear
подсолнечник - Sunflower