I am beyond sorry for always posting new chapters so late. And they're sO SHORT UgH

I'M SORRY THERE LIKE ONLY 1K THATS So LAME.

But I have this really bad problem where I can't write for a long time (its not ADHD let me explain) as in my hand gets jittery and aches because when I'm thinking of a way to word the next sentence I squeeze my hand and tap it on the paper. Not a good idea ? So then I'll play a game or draw something for like the next 5327893402342 hours.

I'm so sorry uGh


His heart beat quickened. His eyes widened. His hands clenched into fists.

He had done it so easily; shove him against the meeting room hallway and corner him, eliminating all way of escape. There was a little sting on the back of his head that was dulled only slightly by the cold hallway wall he had been slammed up against. But Alfred could hardly think of that, not with the piercing violet eyes that took up most of his vision. Or the overly-large nose that nuzzled against his own roughly, being far from comfortable.

And he had done it so easily.

"How long?" The large Russian almost snarled. The American knew right away what he was referring to.

No. He wouldn't throw away his pride that easily. Not for some communist screw-up that was sure to laugh at his face at any attempt at a confession. No, he would keep his mouth shut and wait for the bastard to leave.

Ivan's eyes narrowed at the others defiance, he hated being disobeyed. He toke a step back and breathed deeply, screwing his eyes shut, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth lifted up in an annoyed grimace.

Alfred breathed in relief and turned to walk away, but a quiet, menacing "Don't you move." glued him in place.

Ivan returned to being excruciatingly close to Alfred, their noses rubbing, their exhales mixing. Alfred could easily, effortlessly tilt his chin up and kiss him. But that would ruin the entire point of being calm and not spilling the beans.

Ivan's hand slammed down angrily on the wall besides Alfred's head and he jumped, staring at him with a curious, shocked look.

"Why won't you just make it easier for both of us and tell me?" Ivan said quietly, as if he knew any moment he could go on a rage and he was trying to calm himself.

Alfred didn't answer and the Russian's finger began tapping impatiently on the wall, his bottom lip twitching in an unspoken word; he looked angrily at Alfred in the eyes, searching for a weakness he could use immediately. The stupid burger-loving American was too stubborn. Ivan knew his 'little secret', and, even though Alfred probably hadn't noticed, most of the other countries had too.

Sadly (at least for Alfred), Ivan hadn't even looked or thought of Alfred like that until he put two and two together and realized Alfred had been thinking of him. Thinking of him a lot. It had made him slightly uncomfortable at first, because they had been on such bad terms. But now, after at least a month, he considers the embarrassed way he acts around him annoying. Only a little bit cute on certain days, like when Alfred unconsciously stares at him during meetings and then blushes and looks down at his un-organized papers when Ivan looked at him, catching him in the act.

But now it was annoying, because he was so stubborn. Like he was the only one who knew and he was acting like it was the biggest secret in the world. He was acting like a schoolgirl who just found out the hottest, most popular boy in the school liked him.

Alfred looked away and sighed, lifting his hands to the others shoulders and pushing lightly. Ivan's eyes narrowed but he backed off.

"I have a lot of things to say to you." Alfred said slowly. Ivan's eyebrow rose at the comment but didn't say anything.

"Like: I hate yo-"

"That's a lie." The Russia said childishly, smirking.

Alfred's eyes narrowed but he continued as if he hadn't been interrupted,

"And I wish you could leave me alone already."

"Lying is a sin, my dear America." Ivan chuckled, but frowned when Alfred continued.

"And I wish you would stop butting into my-"

"Alfred." Ivan leaned in again and gave the pinned blonde a glare,

"Wh-"

Alfred' words were cut off by cold, yet warm, soft lips smashing angrily against his own. His eyes widened and he watched in shock as Ivan pulled away and screwed his eyes shut, his eyebrows furrowing.

Ivan sighed heavily through his nose, "Stop talking."

Alfred gulped and squeezed himself against the wall. Russia grimaced slightly and slammed his fist against the wall, growling lowly and turning sharp on his heel and retreating to the meeting room.

"I-I love you, Ivan." Alfred groaned, sliding down the cold hallway wall and throwing his head back to look at the ceiling.

A drop of sweat ran across his face, slowly lining his eye in an ice cold accusation, running against his burning hot face. His fingertips felt like icebergs and his eyes burned as if they had not gotten any water for years.

What was he going to do now?


The low hum of the car was the only thing Alfred heard as he drove from the trade center, arriving quickly to his favorite McDonalds. They never messed his orders up. He drove straight through the menu to the order window, asking for a few cheeseburgers and a large Coke.

He sat in the parking lot for about an hour, finishing his food, before starting the car and driving off. He should just drive to the mountains or dessert, watch the stars for a few days while he figured things out. Or drive out to California, where he could be alone for a few weeks in his beach house. Or he could just go home, not drive anywhere but home; stay in bed curled up in a blanket for weeks on end until someone came and pulled him out of its protection. Nobody would though, he thought, maybe England or Canada, but unless it was for a very long time they probably would not bother. If anyone it would be his boss, after a few weeks of not showing up or calling.

Instead, though, pulling into Russia's hotel. He knew Russia had rented out a room here, it was nice and not too far away from the Trade Center, but it was far enough that most other countries wouldn't bother, he also knew because it was the closet hotel that spoke Russian, that way he was a little more comfortable in his country. He also knew because Ivan had been booking here for several of meetings that Alfred had hosted.

I should just leave. He thought, tapping the steering wheel nervously, what am I doing here? He probably isn't even back yet.

Alfred watched in horror as a black, slick car pulled into the parking space next to him, windows tinted far too dark to be tinted, silver rimming the window seal and the base of the car, shiny and clean. The low, melodic, hum of the engine extinguishing into a low purr as the car was shut off and the motor slowed to a stop.

Alfred knew that car.