Opening Statements: I am soooooo sick. When I'm not throwing up everything I ate in the past ten minutes, I'm nursing a glass of ginger ale and writing as best I can. My stomach rejected water of all things. It does not taste good regurgitated. Neither does ramen. Yuck. At least I don't have to go to school, that's a plus. Anyway, second chapter on Friday, like I promised. Thank you for all the positive reviews, I really appreciate it. Anyway, for people who actually came back to read the second chapter, congrats, you get angsty America and asshole Russia once more. I love them, I really do, I just show it in...rather horrible ways. I had to edit this myself, so it's probably shiiiiiit. From now on I'm going to be using their human names as well, not just in dialogue, so that's a warning. I think. Well, anyway, good luck getting passed this. It was a bitch to write. *pewf*

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, I just enjoy writing porn. It's a hobby of mine, okay?

WARNING: Errr, angst, you get to see the fated birthday video, drunkness in said video, incest, CanAmer (I like my CanadaxAmerica geographically correct, thank you very much), FranAmer, SpainAmer, and slight PrusAmer if you squint. Happy reading.

影ちゃん

Two weeks. That was how long it had been since Alfred had gotten out of bed. Time felt impossible to the severely depressed country. He was angry with himself for what had happened, and the lack of movement and self-pity wasn't helping him get any better.

America hadn't told anyone about what had happened. Not his boss, certainly not England, hell, not even Tony. Not that Tony had really said anything. He'd only asked what was wrong once, and at the tired, mumbled response of "Nothing..." he had backed off. Couldn't he care a little more? Hell, he was ignoring a country in need!

Shit, no. America knew he was the one ignoring his alien friend, ignoring the world. No one could blame America for his loneliness and misery except himself. 'Maybe...maybe I'll feel better if I tell someone,' Alfred thought, his blankets pulled up all the way passed his head.

But who could he tell? Not his boss- he'd flip, just like when he'd finally called after getting home after what Russia had done to him, demanding to know where he'd been, why his phone was off, any question under the sun as to why he couldn't be contacted. America had only told him that his phone's battery had died and that he'd missed the flight home from the world meeting. He'd been claiming he was extremely sick, which was the only reason he hadn't been working the past two weeks. Maybe he could tell Iggy...

Alfred's stomach churned at the thought of telling Arthur that he had been raped, mostly because he didn't know how his father figure would react. Would Arthur be ashamed of him? Disappointed? Would he be remorseful for him and angered by Russia's actions? He didn't know, and that was probably why he hadn't already told him.

Taking a deep breath, Alfred made up his mind and reached for his phone, dialing England's number. It rang a few times before it was picked up,

"Hello? Alfred? Is that you? Where the hell have you been all week, you bloody git? I've been trying to call you for days!" Alfred felt queasy, hearing Arthur's annoyed voice. The Brit sounded winded, like he was out of breath.

"H-hey, Iggy," Alfred mumbled, looking down at his lap. His hands began shaking. "C-can I tell you something? It's kinda impor-"

"Make it quick, Alfred, mon Angleterre is very busy at the moment." Alfred didn't get to finish as it became clear that France had commandeered England's phone. "Come now, what would you like me to tell him, mon ami?"

"France," Alfred took a deep breath. "I need to talk to Arthur. It-it's important. I-I need to talk to him privately."

"Give me back my bloody phone you fucking frog!" Alfred heard the Englishman shout in the background, obviously pissed that his phone had been stolen when he was in the middle of a conversation that sounded rather important.

"Well, I am currently fucking him at the moment, so I don't think private is an option quite right now," Francis sighed into the phone in that dramatic way only the French could pull off, enraging Arthur even further. "But I will gladly pass on your important information to him."

Alfred's bottom lip quivered, a little angry that Francis had commandeered the conversation. He didn't want France to know about what had happened to him, he didn't want to seem weak to someone who would take advantage of it. "No thanks. I'll...I'll just call back later. Sorry I interrupted." And he hung up.

Great. After finally getting up the courage to actually just mention that he had been raped, France got in the way. Stupid France.

There had to be someone he could call, who wouldn't take advantage of him, who he could count on to help him and let him know everything would be okay even if-

Oh.

Right.

He dialed another number quickly, then pausing and remembering that he had the number on speed dial.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Mattie," Alfred whispered, his hands beginning to shake again. What if Canada said no? "C-can I come over?"

"R-really? Now? Um, I guess. It's short notice. I-is something wrong, Al? You don't usually ask permission." Matthew was a little worried for his brother. For a few reasons. One, he remembered his phone number and it wasn't in his phone contacts, two, the American wasn't talking fifty thousand words a minute, and three, the most important, he remembered Canada's name right off the bat.

The American felt like crying, but didn't because heroes don't start crying over the phone randomly. "Y-yes," he murmured, his entire body shaking. "Yeah, Mattie...a lot is wrong..."

Matthew raised his eyebrows at his brother's quiet tone. What could cause America of all people to be so timid? "Come on over, Al. You can tell me what's going on when you get here. I'll meet you at the airport in Ontario, okay? The ticket's on me, eh, I'll pay you back when you get here."

Alfred managed to get out a quiet thank you before he hung up and started crying. He'd been doing a lot of crying lately. He didn't waste any time in buying a ticket to Canada and running out the door with a few pairs of clothes. He dressed in the warmest clothes he could, to cover his body. Maybe he'd stop shaking if he covered himself up entirely.

The plane ride was awful. The food was horrible, the flight was delayed three hours and America kept getting the feeling that everyone was looking at him. He didn't like it. When he finally did get to Ontario he was glad that Matthew was at the gate waiting for him. He ran straight to his brother and hugged him tightly.

"Whoa," Matthew breathed upon his brother tackling him into a death hug. It was weird to get so much attention from his brother when he hadn't asked for it and or yelled at him beforehand. "Al, let's get back to my house. It won't take long."

"Thanks, Mattie," Alfred sniffled, holding back his tears as he nestled his face in Matthew's shoulder.

Canada's worry for his brother increased with the fact that America didn't talk his ear off the entire ride home. In fact, he didn't say anything at all. "Alfred...is there something you need to tell me?" he asked, placing a hand on America's shoulder. He noticed how his brother visibly flinched when he did this, and pulled his hand back.

"Not here, Mattie. Wh-when we get to your place," Alfred replied, biting his lip thoughtfully.

Matthew's worry nearly broke the meter when he heard the stammer in his brother's voice. But he kept his mouth shut and kept his eyes on the road. When the car pulled up to Canada's house Matthew practically jumped out and helped his brother out as well before pulling him inside. He would have immediately asked what was wrong, but he remembered to make hot chocolate first so as not to seem rude.

"Alright, Al, what's going on?" The Canadian demanded after ten minutes of silence. They were sitting at his kitchen table with cups of cocoa, Alfred had shed much of his excess clothing but was still covering much of his skin. "I know something is wrong, and if you're here to tell me then do it now."

"I-I'm trying," Alfred whispered angrily, clutching his hot chocolate tightly. He was doing all in his power to not squeeze to hard and shatter it in his grip. It was rather hard. "I'm...thinking of how to say it. J-just give me a sec."

Matthew backed off, "Sorry. I'm worried."

They sat together in silence for a few more minutes before Alfred took a deep breath and swallowed heavily. "Okay," he said, taking another large intake of oxygen. "You know that day, two weeks ago after the world meeting when my boss freaked out and started calling everyone because I missed my plane back from Iggy's place?"

Matthew nodded silently. He remembered it well; his boss had been the first called to get the brunt of Alfred's superior's rant.

"Well, I didn't miss my flight because I got lost like I said." Alfred's voice was cracking as tears welled up in his eyes. "A-after the meeting..." He knew he had to tell Matthew who had hurt him, but he almost couldn't. He shook his head and told himself he needed to push through the problem, like a hero would. "After the meeting Russia came up to me..." He gnawed on his bottom lip, hoping Matthew could decipher at least some of the rest.

"Oh god, Al, what did he do?" Matthew demanded, grabbing Alfred's shoulder. "Alfred, what did he do to make you like this? Tell me."

Alfred almost choked. "He...knocked me out with that fucking pipe of his...and..." He was shaking again. Alfred reached up and pushed Texas back up his nose as they almost fell off.

"That can't be it. He had to have done more if you're like this," Matthew whispered, putting his other arm around his brother's shoulders. "Please, Al, tell me everything that happened so that I can help." Canada knew he would be making a phone call to Russia's superior after this. He just knew.

Canada watched as his brother nodded hesitantly and took another deep breath. "Wh-when I woke up I was at his house in Russia. He-he had tied me up and undressed me." He whispered the last two words, unsure of how his brother would react.

Matthew nodded solemnly, already piecing the puzzle together in his mind. He pulled Alfred into a hug. "Keep going, it's okay. No one is going to be mad here, Al. I promise I'll help you in any way I can."

Alfred clutched at his brother's shoulders, tears leaking from his eyes. "H-h-he f-fuckin' raped me, Mattie," He whispered through his hiccups. He nestled his face in the crook of Matthew's neck, trying to find comfort in his brother's slim form. "H-he fucking raped with his stupid fucking pipe."

A long sigh escaped the Canadian as he held his brother tightly. He wished he could do more for his brother, but truly, his control only reached to hugging him and telling him it would be okay, and making a phone call to Russia's superior.

"A-and he kept talking in Russian and stuff when he...he fucked me, and...and he kept calling me a slut!" Alfred hiccupped, his entire body shaking. "M-Mattie, I'm...I'm not a slut, am I? You don't think that, r-right?"

Canada didn't answer right away. It wasn't that he actually thought his brother was a slut, even if sometimes Alfred was rather promiscuous, it was just that he was too busy being quietly angry to come up with an answer. He just shook his head and rubbed Alfred's back. "Have you told anyone else?" "No," Alfred murmured, his tears staining Matthew's shirt. "I-I was gonna tell Iggy, but France got in the way."

Matthew sighed and held his brother tightly. There wasn't much he could do, so he just hugged him and rubbed his back soothingly. "I'll make a call, Al. You can stay the night. I'll go get you some McDonald's for dinner, and I'll make you pancakes with lots of maple syrup in the morning, alright?"

"B-but that's n-not it!" Alfred interrupted pulling away from his brother and standing, tears leaking from his sky-blue eyes. "H-he has the pictures of us from my birthday, Mattie! He says France gave him copies!"

Paling, Matthew's hands shook a little as his eyes widened, instantly knowing what Alfred was talking about. "H-he has those photos?" He brought his hands to his face, trying to hide it in his shame. "B-but Fr-Francis said he deleted them from the camera..."

"Yeah, but Prussia was the one who took them! He probably downloaded them onto his computer when everyone else was asleep or something! And that fucking commie said he was gonna get the video, too!"

The anger finally getting the better of him, Canada stood and fished out his phone. "I'm making a call, Al, don't bother me for about ten minutes!" And he stomped out of the room.

影ちゃん

Unlike America, Russia had had a marvelous two weeks after having his way with the boy. Okay, perhaps 'marvelous' wasn't the word, but he had been having a good time. For the first few days, at least.

True to his word, Russia had visited France and commandeered a copy of the video that was taken on America's birthday. He'd made his own copy of the video before giving the original back, of course. He made a point to watch the video every day, and pull out the pictures as well. The first five or six times he'd watched the video had been great. The next few times it had begun to irritate him, and he had no idea why. As the Russian man watched the video a few more times, he realized he was jealous. It didn't surprise him.

Ivan had watched the video enough times to mouth along with the words that were said. He turned the volume up a little on the tv. He'd already sent the Baltics home for a few days, anyway. No one needed to see what was meant only for him.

"Joyeux anniversaire, Alfred, vous garçon chanceux chanceux!" France exclaimed excitedly on the screen, holding out a restrained Canada for the American. "And here is your birthday present, chaton, don't wear him out in one go!" Matthew was struggling against is bonds and was making muffled noises from behind the duct tape over his mouth.

"Duuude, Mattie, you've totally-" Alfred hiccupped off-screen before going on, "-totally got like, four heads! I'm soooo drunk!"

"Perhaps, chaton, you should try out your birthday present now?" Francis giggled and snorted.

"Ja, Al, get those pants off and fuck your brother until he can't see! Of course, if you'd like the awesome me to do it instead I totally would." The camera was turned around to look at the one who was controlling it, getting a screenshot of a grinning Prussia.

"Gilbert, turn the cámara to America and...uh...his brother! It's his birthday!" The camera was turned to look at Spain, who had already lost his shirt somewhere and was holding up the drunken America.

"Oh, come on, Toni! We're the only ones who're ever gonna see this thing, and you all know you wanna see every bit of awesome me as you can!" Prussia laughed. "C'mon, America, get those pants off!"

"Attendez, are we actually making l'amour? I thought this was a joke." France asked, his busy hands already straying past the border of Canada's pants, whose eyes were wide and was making loud squeaking noises behind the tape that silenced him. "Not that I mind, of course, I would love to see mon chéri Mathieu in such a pose."

Russia fast forwarded through some of the dialogue, finding it tedious and needless. He stopped at the part where America had taken his pants off and tackled Canada to the ground.

"Whoa, Mattie, why are there, like, three of you?" The American on the screen asked, holding his head with one hand. He was planted on Canada's lap on the floor, in only a shirt and some boxers. Canada's muffled shouts were the only reply to his brother's question.

"Cut the shit and fuck already!" Prussia shouted from behind the camera. "Mein Gott, this is taking way too long! Francis, Toni, get in there and help them!"

"Give them a few minutes, Gilbert, be patient! Give me the cámara, you'll probably just take a bunch of photos of yourself!" Antonio sighed, grabbing the camera from the albino man.

"Haha, I already have, that thing is full of pictures of the great and awesome me."

"Give me that! Mon dieu, neither of you are focusing! Look at them!" France snatched away the camera and aimed it expertly at the North American brothers.

Alfred had pulled Matthew's pants and underwear down and was licking at the Canadian's cock clumsily. Alfred tried to take him all in, but his brother was too big. There was more than one reason that Canada was the second largest country, though nowhere near as close to Russia's size.

"Dios mio, look at him go!"

"Ha, I wonder how many cocks he thinks he's licking! I don't think he's even sober enough to give head."

"Hmm, I didn't think Alfred could swallow his pride long enough to perform fellatio," France hummed, the camera still aimed at the twin brothers. "But my he's doing so well~ Perhaps he practices?"

Russia watched the video lazily, tuning out the dialogue between the Bad Touch Trio, his eyes focused on the image of Alfred greedily licking at his brother's member. At first the video had been sexually arousing, watching Alfred perform such sexual acts, but eventually it wore off and he found that watching the American give pleasure to someone else was definitely not acceptable. Still, he continued to watch the video, the reason unknown to him. Ivan licked his lips, remembering how that small, pink tongue had felt caressing his own erection, lips wrapped around his cock and licking him up and down, the American begging him to untie him and make it even better.

Ivan's member stirred in his pants at the mental images, the blood rushing south. The large Russian man chuckled and fast forwarded through much of the useless video, stopping at the point where America had begun to ride his brother, and had sobered up just a bit.

"Jesus fuck, Mattie! You're way too fuckin' big! Ow!" America groaned loudly, seated on his brother's erection all the way to the hilt.

"If he's too much for you, lieber, how the fuck do you think you're gonna take mein awesome five meters?" Gilbert laughed from the sidelines.

"I never took you as one to be the bottom, chaton, très bien! You took mon petite Mathieu in with just one try, impressive!"

"Shut up, France! Unf! And fu-fuck you, Gil, I can take more cock than this! Nnng!" Alfred grunted, leaning back and placing his palms on the ground behind him. "Geez, Mattie, seriously, stop moving, you're moving so fast there's like two of you..." The only response he got from his restrained brother was a muffled, pleasured groan.

"Mon cher chaton, I believe the wine and whiskey is still affecting you." Francis stifled his giggles, hiding behind the camera as he called out to the American not three feet away. "Perhaps Monsieur Antonio and I should test your boasts of being able to handle more than one, ah, longueur, oui?"

"Dude, totally not cool! I can't fit three cocks up my ass, Mattie's big enough!"

"That isn't quite what I meant, chaton."

"So, c'mon, am I gonna get sexed up tonight or what? Seriously, mein awesome five meters needs some love!" Prussia snorted from behind the camera as France shoved it into his hands and he and Spain walked over to Alfred. "Hey, not fair! I have to hold the camera? Why don't I get to fuck him?"

"For the last time, you don't have five meters, that's physically impossible! Now be patient, we'll take turns, Gilbert, but you have to hold the camera first," France sighed, rolling his eyes as he placed a hand on America's shoulder. "Now, Alfred, you said you could handle more, oui?"

"Fuck yeah, I can take way more than this!"

"Hahaha, what a fucking slut! Hey, America, wanna suck on mein awesome five meters?" Prussia laughed from behind the camera, probably making lewd gestures with his hips or hands.

Russia watched with jealousy as the two romantic Nations pulled themselves from their pants and were eagerly pleasured by America's awaiting mouth as he began rocking his hips back and forth, riding his brother. 'I will have to make him give me another blow, he seems very good at it.' The Russian thought with eyes half closed, mental images clouding his mind. He wasn't focusing on the video much, his imagination producing much more than the video could. The moans from France and Spain seemed far away, and the jeers from Prussia seemed quiet.

Ivan focused his attention back on the video as the two Nations came all over America's face, some of the white substance falling into America's welcoming, open mouth. Ivan thought the young Nation looked beautiful, covered in cum and sweat. That was what he wanted. He wanted Alfred on his knees before him, face covered in his cum after he had been eagerly sucking his cock. He wanted America to spread his legs and beg to be fucked mercilessly as Russia violated him with his pipe all over again.

At that thought, Ivan purred and rubbed himself through his pants slowly, letting out a hum of pleasure. Oh how he wanted his American sunflower so badly...he wanted to imagine it was his hands running up his cock, stroking him and maybe licking hima little. But no, Ivan would hold back. He would hold back until he saw Alfred again, then...then that was when he would take him all over again.

The Russian man's cell phone rang as the part where Prussia came onto the scene and Spain took over the camera. He flipped his phone open. "Dа?" He answered easily, eyes still trained on the television.

"Russia! You creep, what the hell went through your sick mind when you did those horrible things to Alfred!"

Raising an eyebrow at the phone, Ivan wondered who was on the other line. The voice sounded familiar, almost like America's, but it wasn't. He couldn't quite place a name to the voice. "...Who is this?" he asked, puzzlement flowing through his voice.

"It's Canada you creep!"

"Кто?"

"Matthew! Canada! Alfred's brother, for over 234 years! But that's not what this is about!"

Russia finally placed Canada's voice and laughed. "Oh? Did Alfred tell our secret so soon? Tsk, tsk, I would think my darling Alfred would have more will than that. How disappointing."

"Don't you dare call him 'darling' you sicko! What did you think you were doing, didn't he get enough of your crap during that Cold War of his with you?" Matthew demanded, anger his prime emotion. "I know he's not exactly the hero he thinks he is, but he doesn't deserve to be raped! Especially not by you!"

"In my opinion Alfred did not get enough of my 'crap' during the Cold War." Russia said dangerously, gripping the phone tightly. "I had many pieces I wished to play in our little game then, unfortunately I gave into my urges too soon and it ended before I could get serious." The sexual tension at the end of the Cold War had been excruciating between him and America, and many other countries had urged them to just have sex and get it over with. Russia had meant to keep it going for as long as possible, but even he himself was a bit uncomfortable with all the sexual tension between them. The only reason it had ended was not because of the "sudden" lapse in tension between them and their superiors. The sexual tension had finally been too much to take, and Russia had stolen a kiss from America after a rather stressful, and private, interaction between them.

It had not been a sweet kiss, or a gentle one, either. It had been angry, and rough, with teeth involved. Tongues and lips had been bitten, hate fueling the act. Alfred had returned it eagerly, after a few persuasive words from Ivan, with just as much hate and emotion, much to Russia's pleasure. All of their hate, and anger, and loathing from their Cold War had gone into that kiss. Ivan had been so close to just shoving Alfred against the wall and fucking him hard. Unfortunately he hadn't. When they had pulled away, the intense anger and hate had dissipated like steam. After that kiss, everything between them just seemed...okay. There was still tension, but it had relaxed, and right then, neither of them had felt the need to tear each other's clothes (or heads, for that matter) off with their teeth.

The phone was silent for a moment. Russia knew that Canada's anger had waned, and he would have more of a hassle trying to keep his confidence up. The thought was confirmed as Matthew spoke up with the slightest stutter, "W-well why isn't your boss's phone on, eh? I-I tried-tried calling him, but it said it had been disconnected!"

Ah, the phone issue. Russia had anticipated that Alfred would tell someone about what had happened and try to report it to his superior, and had make quick, easy work of disposing of his boss's phones; all four of them. "He is currently in a state without contact, for obvious reasons," Russia answered easily. Though it did make it annoying if he actually did have to call his boss for work-related reasons.

"You...you...you commie!" Canada's jaw dropped and squeaked as the word left his mouth. He had never called Russia that! Why did he say that! Dear lord, America was having too much of a negative effect on him!

Russia sighed, a bit annoyed. "Now, Matvey, I expect that word from Alfred, but not from you. It is really beginning to hurt my feelings. It's starting to get annoying." He put stress on the last word, making sure Canada heard the hidden menace behind it. "Now be a good little boy and tell Alfred that I will see him soon. I am having my superior set up a trade meeting~" Ivan giggled, his attention straying back to television. "By the way, Matthew, you seem so responsive in the video. And for your own brother, too! I never thought you as the incestuous type. France must have-"

Canada didn't stick around to hear how that sentence ended, quickly hanging up. His face was red, with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. Russia sounded so intimidating, even over the phone. He wanted to chuck the phone out the window, but decided against it.

"Wh-what did he say?" Alfred asked, leaning into the room nervously. He chewed on his lip, unsure if Matthew was okay with him listening in.

"He...said he was having a trade meeting set up between you and him." Matthew's bottom lip trembled, like he was about to burst into tears. He whirled around and flung himself into his brother's arms. "A-Alfred we have to tell England! He can make it better, I'm sure!"

"Shit, he has the video, doesn't he?"

"A-Al, I can't go down as a nation who was in a porno! I-I just can't! I know I'm not that innocent or anything, and I have my share of humans who are famous for porn, but that just seems so humiliating for anyone to find out about me!"

"That's it? That guy fuckin' raped me and you're worried about the video! C'mon, I thought you had more compassion than that!" Alfred huffed angrily, shoving his brother at arm's length. "And he's probably gonna do it again during that meeting thing he mentioned! What the fuck am I gonna do?"

"Y-you can tell England...h-he'll help, I'm sure..." Matthew mumbled, turning his gaze to his feet. Damn, he was slipping down into that whispering, see-throughish part of himself where no one ever noticed him...

"But...what if Iggy gets angry?" Alfred mumbled right back, looking at his brother with a pleading look. "I...I don't know how he'd react... I mean, he'd probably find out about those pictures, and the video, an-and I don't wanna disappoint him." Despite his rebellion against England, America really did care about what he thought.

"I'm sure that he won't get angry with you, Alfred," Canada assured him, biting his bottom lip. He seemed more timid than usual, and Alfred was hoping that his brother didn't just disappear right in front of him. Matthew whispered quietly, "He might be...disappointed. But he won't be angry."

America made a loud, frustrated sound and punched the wall, easily creating a large hole from the force. He leaned against it and slid down to the ground, his eyes watering. He pulled his knees up to his chest tightly. "That's what I'm afraid of, Mattie...I don't want him to be disappointed in me. Especially not when this has happened. Especially when it's not my fault."

Canada felt heartbroken by those words. Why did America care so much about what England thought of him? He didn't ask. He just sat down beside the American and hugged him, promising him pancakes and McDonald's.

影ちゃん

Translations:
Mon Angleterre- My England
Mon ami- My friend
Joyeux anniversaire, Alfred, vous garçon chanceux chanceux- Happy birthday, Alfred, you lucky lucky boy
Chaton- Kitten
Attendez- Wait
Mon chéri- My darling
Mein Gott, Mon Dieu, Dios Mio- My god
Lieber- Love
Très bien- Very good
Longueur- Length
Кто- Who

Shadow-chan's Final Thoughts/Rants: Urrgh, I hate writing porn that isn't actually happening. Porn videos are the bane of my existence. Only when writing about them though, I love them in pretty much any other situation. Next chapter we'll actually get to some more sex, hurrhurr. America is not a happy panda. But Russia is. If you're French, German, Spanish, or Russian and I've somehow destroyed your language by only using that much, then I apologize, go blame google translate. Next chapter will be next Friday. If any cares enough, I would love some more reviews. I'm a review whore. *nomnomnom*

Reviews are Shadow-chan's favorite food, constructive criticism is her favorite flavor and compliments are her favorite sweet. Flames only fuel her fire. Thank you very much *bow*