Arthur woke on that Saturday morning the same way he had everyday that week and the month before; blaring rock music screaming in his ears through the headphones around his neck, a vile taste tainted in the back of his mouth, and a certain uncomfortable feeling you get when you fall asleep fully clothed. Blinking his eyes open to a bright sunlight searing in through the window, he cursed and reached for nonexistent covers to shield his face from the nuisance when he looked over and caught a glimpse of a man he never, never in all his hundreds of years of living hoped to see in his bed.
The man's light blonde hair was ruffled, his childish face weirdly calm and unnaturally genuinely sweet-looking. He snuggled into his huge scarf that covered most of his tall body and gave a soft, contented sigh that made Arthur settle back into his former position next to the Russian. He found sleep weighing down his eyelids and was nearly unconscious when he heard, "Congratulations on becoming one with Mother Russia, Da!"
Arthur found that slumber gripped him much faster than originally planned at those words.
/x/AN__
This is what happens when I let my fingers type whatever comes to my sense-ridden mind. :)
Punk!ArthurXIvan FWA-EVA. XD