It was around 4a.m., the room still enveloped in a deep blue hue from the night. The sun would be rising soon and the two were curled up, sleeping. Well, supposedly. Ivan had woken up from a strange dream, and he hadn't been able to fall back asleep; it left him uneasy. When he woke up, he immediately knew who the figure laying in bed was behind him. Alfred. The American had his arms draped around the other's waist, a soft snore emitting from him.

Ivan remembered that they fell asleep that way. On a normal day, they'd shift apart during the night, limbs accidentally slapping another in the face, the whole package. But tonight, on this particular night, Alfred had promised him he wouldn't let him go. And the weird part about it was he still hasn't.

The two had become close over the time. A little against Russia's will, because America had just constantly come over his house like it were his own, spending the entire day there and just chatting it up like Russia appreciated it. He wasn't sure why he did it, but eventually he grew used to the blond, and a little fond of his company, too.

Alfred had a way of surprising him with weird American traditions, one day having brought him a bouquet of sunflowers with wide grin on his face. The explanation was "Just because it's Tuesday."

What in the hell did that even mean? Because it's Tuesday? He didn't try to figure it out.

Whatever happened over time, he grew attached to the man behind him right now. And he was okay with it. He would never say it outloud-- no. Letting the American know that he actually liked his company would be bad. In the back of his mind, Ivan told himself to continue to argue with him, continue to put him down; because the day Alfred realized how amazing he really was to him, he'd leave.

Alfred shifted in his light sleep, slowly blinking himself awake. He noticed, ( though finding it slightly weird of himself to notice ) that Ivan's breathing had changed. It wasn't deep and soothing, as it was normally when he slept. It was slightly more as if he were awake.

He glanced at the clock on his dresser, the light blinking 5:07a.m. Unusual time to be awake, especially since they stood up late last night watching cheap horror flicks on HBO. Tightening his grip around the Russian, he spoke in a voice still rasped with sleep.

"You awake?"

Ivan replied with a grumble.

"You are." America rubbed the sleepiness out of his eyes, his full attention on Russia now.

"What's wrong?" He asked, finding Ivans' hands under the sheets and entwining their fingers.

"Nothing, close your eyes and go back to sleep." The Russian spoke in a thick accent, pronouncing his t's and rolling his r's. America had a hardcore love for the way Ivan spoke, but he'd never let him know.

"Turn around."

Ivan paused, a small smile gracing his lips. He knew Alfred wouldn't give up so easily, and he did as he was told. Their hands unhooked and he turned in the others' arms, though looking down and away. No matter how close the two were, Russia would always feel like it was their first time being close. America just made him feel that way. Unpredictable.

Alfred leaned his head down to press his lips against Ivan's softly, causing him to look up. The violet eyed man's cheeks flushed, immediately closing his eyes. He still wasn't used to intimacy, as many things that they've done together; physical contact was different, but this kind of closeness, this kind of affection... it was almost too much to handle.

That whiny voice rose to his ear, clearly showing disapproval.

"Ivaaan... look at me."

Ivan sighed, giving in easily once again and slowly opening his eyes to see bright blue ones staring back at him. Even in this dark, he could see them.

"What?"

"Nothing." Alfred grinned widely, pressing his forehead to the Russians own, still looking into his eyes. Those precious orbs said anything and everything Alfred wanted to know. It was hard for friends and random people to read them sometimes, but he figured it out.

A moment went by and Ivan shut his eyes tight, blocking the American off.

"You are so embarrassing. Stop it."

"How am I embarrassing? I didn't do anything." He sounded like he was suppressing a laugh, trying not to be his normal, irritating self. America took it upon himself to make Russia more comfortable around him. He knew that Ivan had a hard time getting close to people, because everyone was afraid of him.

Not Alfred. He wasn't afraid of anything. He got close to Ivan, it was a challenge; and he loved every bit of it.

That grin was still on his face, and he nuzzled his nose against Ivans' softly, tightening his grip around his waist. Their legs were now a tangled heap under the blanket, virtually zero space between them. Russia's face heated up even more as the American began to spread soft kisses across his face, covering his cheeks in warm caresses.

"Mm. Stupid." Ivan whispered. He felt warm. Warm and safe in the others arms, and so he allowed himself to raise his arms around the other's neck and just... be. He didn't do this with everyone. Actually, Alfred was the only person he's done this with. This closeness, this... existing in each others company without words, without the extreme need to express themselves other than simply knowing that they were there.

Alfred loved this. He loved being here with Ivan, relaxed and not arguing. It was funny; they were cuddling. If you told France or Britain or Lithuania, China? Poland? That Ivan loved cuddling? They would look at you like you were were mad, then laugh as they came to their conclusion of: Oh, he made a joke! Ha ha ha...

But Alfred knew. He knew Ivan loved it, and he was in love with it. Being with Ivan like this was intoxicating. It was like his secret, his and his only. A sacred little gem that he kept in his pocket for no one in the world to have but him. Little, wonderful things like this was why Ivan was special to him.

"I am tired..." Russia yawned, sleep finally taking over his senses now that Alfred intervened his previous thoughts, which is what he seemed to do a lot. Alfred rested his chin on the top of Ivan's head, the Russian inching closer, his face pressed against the Americans neck. His arms went slack, letting himself fully relax and feel comfortable. The dream was now out of his mind.

Alfred smiled to himself, closing his eyes in contentment. He made Ivan feel better, despite not knowing what made him wake suddenly so early in the morning. It was okay though; Ivan was asleep now, and that's all that mattered. He knew he wouldn't have another bad dream.

a/n: don't own characters. just using them for my fun. c:

also, my first fic on the interbutt. hogod