So.. In short: My boss gives me a lot of hours. Whenever he doesn't, I sleep. /end excuse. ANYWAY. So, I was sitting and talking with my buddy, aaand we came to the subject as to why people from the UK, or any other country in Europe, really seem to dislike Americans. Yes, a lot of them seem to be very close-minded and obnoxious, but.. yeah. It seems kind of unfair to some Americans and it makes me sad to see that we can't all get along:( sadness.

Pairing: Russia/America or Ivan/Alfred
Fandom:
Hetalia
Disclaimer: Yeeeup.
Warnings: Homosexual stuff. In this fan fiction. If you don't like it. I do not give a shit. Really.

.

.

Mix - 02

"What?" Alfred leaned away from the helping hands of Ivan, looking at the Russian with wide eyes. "You've never seen Anastasia? Dude. Seriously?"

Ivan eyed him wearily, guiding the young Americans face back to where he can at least try to focus on cleaning the teens wounds whilst listening to his drunken dialogue. "Seriously," he tried to mimic Alfred's accent (and failed, miserably).

"Dude," he paused for a second, flinching, when Ivan ran a alcohol-soaked cloth over his nose. "Dude. But, like, there's Russia and Saint-Petersburg, and Russians!"

"Really? I did not know there would be Russians!" Ivan replied with fake enthusiasm, as if to say 'That changes everything!'.

Alfred pouted for a moment before continuing. "Anyway, what I really wanted to ask, is if you really talk like that."

The Russian gave him a look, standing from his kneeling position on the floor and, once again, placing his hands under Alfred's armpits and easily lifting him in the air. Alfred choked, his reply stuck in his throat as Ivan easily carried him to the living room in his minimalist apartment and carefully placed him on his (comfortable, Alfred noticed) grey couch.

"Talk like.. how, exactly? I'm fairly concerned as to how this movie portrayed a Russian speaking."

"Like..." Alfred cleared his throat and suddenly stuck his tongue out and wiggled it around, making weird and obscene noises with his throat. Ivan stared at him with disgust for a moment, watching the young American make a fool of himself in front of the older man, before breaking out into giggles.

He reached into his jacket and took out a small silver flask, twisting it open and taking a generous 'sip' before twisting it closed and placing it back into its hidden pocket. Swallowing, the tall Russian shook his head. "No, I don't believe I've ever met any Russian who has... spoken like that," his reply was choked and he looked slightly horrified at the thought of anyone speaking like that.

"Oh," the American looked embarrassed, and slightly put-out. He was quiet for a moment, looking at his knees that were were in a way where it wouldn't agitate any of the fresh bruises he had obtained, before looking up at the older man with a shining smile that would light up a room, if it was possible. "How do you talk, then?"

"Normally?" Ivan replied, confused. "Russians and Germans and.. Americans, though we speak differently language, we don't exactly have a certain way we move our mouths... or tongues, for that matter," he gave Alfred a look that made the younger man blush and feel embarrassed all over again.

Alfred rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a weak chuckle. "Yeah."

After a moment of awkward silence, Alfred shifted and bounced slightly. The silence made him itch to make a least some noise so he wouldn't feel so uncomfortable and out-of-place.

Momentarily leaving the American alone, Ivan had shakily stood up and made his way out of the small living room, shedding his long coat and neatly placing it over a hook, but left his scarf wrapped snug around his neck. Alfred watched him, eyes wide at the thought of being left alone, disappear around the corner.

Alfred politely stared at the spot Ivan had occupied until the aforementioned male returned, once again occupying his seat, and placed a new bottle of vodka onto the coffee table before them.

Alfred's eyes lit up at the sight. "Well, aren't you the nicest stranger that I've ever met?" he tilted his head and gave Ivan a small quirk of the lips, the gesture returned with a smirk.

.

.

.

"And that's why you saw that guy beating me up," Alfred grinned just as wide as the Cheshire Cat from Alice In Wonderland as he finished he story, his legs draped over Ivan's thighs. The Russian had listened to every word the American had said with a look of childish curiosity on his deceptively youthful face. When he finished, Ivan smiled widely, though in a way where you couldn't see any of his teeth.

It made Alfred both wanted to pinch his cheeks and slowly inch away from the older man; he knew how to be both deceptively cute and frightening at the same time.

"Well," Ivan finally spoke, lightly patting Alfred's legs. "I would say that you are both at fault, da?"

"Well, yeah, I guess," Alfred drawled, waving his hand. "But he was the one who threw the first punch. It was all in self defense, broski."

"Oh, then that changes everything!" Ivan replied sarcastically before smiling once more, making Alfred shove at the Russian's shoulder lightly.

"Shut up," Alfred looked down at his empty glass with a small grin. "Hey, Ivan?"

"Hmmm?" Ivan hummed, looking at the American over his glass as he finished the rest of his vodka quickly.

"Do you think you can speak Russian? To me? Like a sentence? I've never heard anyone speak Russian before," Alfred smile, excited. "I mean, I've seen so many movies that have Russian characters but they always speak English and I think it'd be like really cool and stuff and like... yeah-" Alfred began to ramble on before the Russian silenced him with two fingers placed lightly to his lips and a small smile.

"I am sure it would not hurt to grace your ears with speaking my mother tongue," Ivan replied pleasantly. "I would love too, da."

Alfred smiled excitedly, whooping. "Dude! Awesome!"

"What would you like me to say, Alfred Jones?" Ivan asked, though he probably would choose to not say what Alfred wanted, anyway.

"I dunno," Alfred replied, suddenly serious. "I don't care, just choose something random." He shrugged.

"If you insist," the Russian replied before momentarily going silent before opening his mouth and speaking to Alfred in his mother tongue. The words that flowed from his mouth were smooth and low, and Alfred knew that if he were to ever try speaking those same words, he would trip over them like the tongue twisters he used to try when he was in middle school. the American stared at the Russian with wide eyes and an even wider smile as he finished.

After a moment of silence, the American suddenly whooped once more and clapped. "That was fucking awesome!" Alfred exclaimed. "Dude, Russian is the sexiest foreign language I've ever heard!"

Ivan raised and eyebrow and chuckled in response.

"Seriously, Dude, it might be the vodka talking, but that was so hot."

"Really." Ivan's eyebrow never lowered, and his voice was disbelieving.

"Dude, swear to God, you could get into my pants just by speaking Russian, I think," Alfred nodded solemnly at the older man. Ivan couldn't help the smirk when the words came out of the young American's mouth.

"Is that so?" he asked, tilting his head with fake innocence.

"I just said so," Alfred replied, tilting his head with confusion. He reminded Ivan of a young cat when he did that. He thought it to be quite adorable.

A giggle escaped the large Russian man.

"Da," he leaned towards the American slowly, waiting to see the young man's reaction.

Alfred sat, staring at the older man with wide eyes. Alfred watched as he leaned closer, staring at the young man's lips glazed eyes. "Ivan...?" he whispered, so quietly that the Russian barely heard.

"Shhh," Ivan shook his head, just barely, before carefully grabbing the younger male by his elbows and lifting him so he laid on top of him as he laid back on the long couch.

Alfred gazed at the Russian beneath him, mouth slightly agape and his eyes searching the other's. After a silent moment, Alfred quietly spoke.

"I can dig it," the American grinned before leaning down and taking the Russian's bottom lip in between his own in a clumsy and wet kiss. He took Ivan's face in his hands, caressing the Russian's cheek with his thumb and tilting his head to deepen the clumsy kiss.

Ivan opened his mouth and flicked his tongue against Alfred's, letting his hands fall to the younger man's hips, then slowly move upwards, under his shirt, to his waist. Alfred shivered and moved back in alarm at the coldness of the Russian's hands. Ivan shushed him once more, his eyes drooping, as he leaned his face upwards and captured the American's lips once more.

As Ivan's lips traveled south to Alfred's neck, the younger male let out a long breath before whispering, "I could get used to this," and smiling sadly.

.

.

PS. - Hope you enjoyed. Feedback as to how I can improve is always welcomed!

This chapter was relatively unedited. I have work soon, so, yeah. Excuses!:D

I, hopefully, replied to all reviews via messages.
Triva: Thank you! Haha, I hope you enjoyed chapter two as much as you did chapter one.
Lone Star Girl: You've seemed to turn off private messaging, so I'd like to thank you, publicly, for reviewing. I'm glad you enjoyed chapter one and I hope you enjoyed chapter two as well! I'm glad I could make you laugh as much as you did.

That reminds me! It's TMI Tuesday so I'd like to all let you know that I might be signing up to become a Marine! Freaky, isn't it?

PPS. - I made a livejournal. I feel uncomfortable. Because, it's just me. Um. Anyone else have a livejournal that would live to be my friend on there? :)