Disclaimer: I own nothing. Absolutely nothing. Well, except for this computer, and the main plot of the following story. Other than that...nothing.
I love love love love Hetalia and love love love love any Alfred/Ivan pairing (or any other pairing, I like them all :D). Whatever.
This is gonna be guy/guy, boy/boy, shonen ai, yaoi, gay or whatever term you use for it. Deal with it.
...
The Allied meeting had just ended, and everyone in the conference room was getting ready to leave. Russia stayed in his chair for a few more moments, like he always did, and America was packing up some papers into a large briefcase. England was still mulling over the last decision that had been made by the group, and France was talking at China incessantly as they walked out the door.
Eventually England left, still muttering something about how America had no morals, and hadn't he taught him better? America was still putting things into his briefcase, although they looked like the same things he'd been working on just minutes before. He looked up once China, France and England had left, an expression of relief on his face.
Russia stood up and started to walk to the door, but America caught him by the sleeve. Surprised, the taller man turned around.
"Sorry…" America began, "But I need to talk to you…"
"What is it?"
"I normally wouldn't even think of asking a commie like you something like this, but I already asked everyone else and they just gave me crap answers, so I guess I'll ask you now…"
"Yes?"
America looked down. "I doubt you'd know, but how do you…well, you see, I…"
Russia raised his eyebrows. America was obviously having a hard time saying whatever it was he wanted.
"I sorta…how do you ask someone out?"
Russia's eyes widened. America liked someone?
"Who is it?"
America opened his mouth, then shut it again. "That's not important."
"It is very important, as each person requires a different approach."
"Like I'd tell you anything," America said quickly.
"Then I am afraid I cannot help."
Russia turned to leave. America looked back at his briefcase before sighing and reaching for Russia's sleeve again.
"Could you help me?" he asked slowly. Russia looked at him, a pleasant expression on his face.
"Of course."
"Hm…why would you?"
"It is best not to question the motives of a kind offer," Russia said simply.
America looked down. "I wasn't exactly expecting you to say yes."
"I have nowhere to be, so why not?"
"Okay," America said, "Well, at the last international meeting I met this girl…uh…she and I only talked, like, once, but I, uh…"
"You would like to get closer to her."
America winced at the words. "Yeah."
"Who is this girl?"
"Hungary."
Russia smiled. "I believe I know her."
"So, I was just wonder how…one asked someone on a date…not like I haven't done it before!"
"I see," Russia said with a smile. "Well, I find that practice makes everything easier. Pretend for a moment that I am Hungary."
A look of horror flickered across America's face as he looked Russia over. "That's not possible."
"You believe in aliens, you must have some imagination."
"Yeah, but aliens are real…and you're not exactly a girl."
"This is where the imagination comes in."
"Isn't this a little awkward?" America asked quietly, looking toward the door. Russia nodded. America sighed and sat down in one of the chairs around the conference table.
"Okay, I'll give it a shot."
"Good." Russia sat down in a chair next to America's turning it to face the shorter man. "Begin whenever you wish."
America looked over Russia's face, trying to find some way to relate the creepy, tall man to the girl he'd met just a few days before. It was difficult, to say the least.
"Um…well, we would be talking about something beforehand, I suppose…" America said.
"What would you like to talk about, then?"
"I dunno…the weather?"
Russia chuckled. "Well, how is the weather?"
"Good, I guess. You know, you don't actually have to do this…" America scratched the back of his head.
"As I said, I have nothing better to do."
America sighed. "Okay, let's try this again. I guess just being blunt would be the easiest, right?"
"With Hungary, most likely."
"Okay then…well…would you like to hang out sometime?"
"America, are you planning to be a love interest or a casual friend?"
"I'm trying! It's just…"
Russia shook his head. "No 'It's just' here. Continue."
America looked down at his knees. Why was he doing this? What would this help?
"Well, I was wondering…would you…go out…with me?"
Russia smiled, his pale purple eyes sparkling. "I would be delighted. Where?"
"Um…I dunno…my place?"
"What time?"
"Uh, Russia, I don't know. Isn't that it?"
"What time?" Russia repeated, pretending like America had never spoken.
"Seven? Tomorrow? I don't know."
"Okay then. I'll be there," Russia said, looking happily at America. Then he stood up and began to leave. "I'll look forward to it."
"Where are you going?" America asked, eyebrows furrowed. What had just happened? Why was Russia still acting?
There was no answer, and the taller man was gone. America stared at the doorway for a second, half-expecting Russia to come back. He didn't. America stood up slowly and went to get his briefcase. As he left the room, he looked down the hallway to both of his sides. Nobody was there.
Creepy guy, America thought as he walked down the hall, still confused.
...
Russia walked down the street, humming quietly to himself. He was still a bit giddy regarding what he had just done. He had just procured a date with America. The sad thing was that it wasn't really a date, that the time and place that America had given were simply filler and nothing more.
Then again, what if Russia were to pretend like it was a real date, and come to America's house at the suggested time on the suggested day…what would happen then? Would America be confused and kick him out, or would they just be able to "hang out" as he had said? Yes, it would be that. Hanging out would be far less offensive than a date.
"So, America, we'll 'hang out' tomorrow," Russia mused. "That will be interesting."
"Ivan!"
Russia froze at the voice. He heard footsteps echoing on the street behind him, and he immediately knew who it was. He took in a sharp breath and kept walking.
"Don't walk away! I'd like to talk with you!"
Russia still didn't respond. He knew that if he did, things would become bad fast. Then again, if he didn't say something, he might get hurt…
"Well, at least say hello to your own sister!"
Russia sighed. "Hello, Natalia."
He turned around slowly to see his sister, Belarus, standing behind him. She was reaching for Russia's hand, which he withdrew quickly.
"Oh, come on. That's no fun. You can't lie to yourself forever."
"I don't lie."
"Sure. But in your heart you know you want me just as much as I—"
"I must be going. I am supposed to be somewhere." It was the excuse Russia had picked up from the other nations.
"Well then, I can go with you." Belarus grabbed Russia's arm and stepped toward him. "That, or you can stay here," she said softly.
Russia jerked his arm out of her grip. "I'm sorry, I must go."
Belarus gave him a look that made him want to run away. He knew, however, that running was not an option when it came to his sister. She would just find him. And then she would be angry. Instead, he turned and began to walk away as calmly as possible. Maybe she'd leave him alone for today…
No such luck. Russia had barely gone a meter when Belarus grabbed his hand and jerked him back. He whirled around just as her other hand came up to his face. Her black glove cradled his jaw.
"You really don't have to go, onii-san." Belarus only used that term now when she was trying to get her way.
Russia was about to step back when he saw that in the hand that held his there was a knife. He silently cursed himself. He had been so caught up in getting a date with America that he had forgotten his water pipe in the conference room.
"Now, why don't you just stay here, with me?" Belarus looked up at Russia, a half-smile on her face. She tightened her grip on his face and pulled his head down toward hers. He pulled back, but his sister moved the knife in her hand dangerously.
Their lips met only for a second before Russia stepped back. Belarus smiled almost evilly, and then she stepped toward him.
"You liked that, didn't you?"
Russia didn't answer. He started to walk away, but of course his sister wouldn't allow that.
"Ivan! Please don't leave me," she said quietly. She was probably hoping that the tenderness would affect Russia in some way. He supposed that she didn't know him so well after all.
He kept walking. "Okay, walk away now. Just promise me that there isn't anyone else!"
Russia still didn't answer. Belarus sighed sharply before speaking one more time.
"And if there is anybody, you can't really expect them to stay around very long. Not if I can help it."
Russia turned around, but Belarus was already gone. He took a deep breath before heading back to the conference room. He needed to keep his water pipe with him at all times.
...
America woke up at two in the afternoon, but that was probably because of the radio the night before. There had been a special marathon of one of his favorite programs, and who was he not to listen for eight or nine hours? He couldn't just let the opportunity go to waste.
Groggily he got up and set off to make breakfast. A couple eggs and pieces of toast later he was a bit more awake. The sky was overcast, and it looked like it might rain. America was glad. It meant that he didn't have to do anything important today.
"Gaaaah…" he said, stretching. He then realized that even though he wouldn't be doing much he should still get dressed in something other than pajamas.
He went into his room, heading straight for the dresser. Opening the first drawer, he pulled out a pair of boxers and flung them onto the bed behind him. They hit the wall and fell down in between the wall and the bed. America then pulled out a plain green shirt and tossed it in the same fashion. It fell just short of the bed, one arm slapping the blanket before sliding down.
Last but not least, America pulled from the dresser a pair of pants. Instead of throwing them, he took them with him to the bed, ignoring the still-open drawer.
As he changed he hummed something. It was like a cross between "God Bless America" and "American Patrol." When he was finished he let out a huff of air and got up. He was about to go look in the mirror, but as he was walking to it he stopped. With a smile he went to the dresser and pulled out a pair of socks.
He slipped them on quickly and grinned. America pumped his arms as though dancing before going into the corner of his room. He started to run a little, stopping just in time to slide in front of the mirror. His untucked shirttails flew out behind him, and he put his arms out as though he was about to give a hug.
The only flaw in this idea was the fact that a small box was sitting on the floor, and America did not see it. He slid right into it, losing his balance and falling flat on his face. He made a small noise, sitting up quickly.
"Stupid box…" he mumbled, kicking it under the bed. It hit something else hidden under there, and made a thud.
America got up and looked in the mirror, now uninterested as to how he looked. If he couldn't slide in front of the mirror, he didn't need to look in it at all.
As he left his room, America looked at the time. Almost three-thirty.
"Well, too late to do anything productive!" he said happily as he sat down in front of the radio. He flipped it on and then stood up again, wondering why he'd sat down in the first place. He went out the door and picked up the newspaper from the lawn. Then he went inside to go read.
And so the hours went, America doing virtually nothing with them. He lounged around twiddling his thumbs until the clock struck seven.
The moment the second hand hit the twelve, there was a knock on the door. America looked up from the puzzle he was doing. It was raining pretty hard outside. Who the heck would be at the door?
He stood up and walked to the door. America then unlocked it and opened it. At first all he saw was rain.
Then, the figure made itself apparent. It was much taller than he was, and was carrying a water pipe.
"Hello, America," Russia said happily.
...
A/N: Okay, first chapter done. Yeah, not much going on yet. But don't touch that remote just yet, there's more to come. (Unless I forget...pssh, who forgets anything?)
You point out mistakes or typos and I'll love you 3
Please review, I eat them and need the fuel (nomnom).