Author's note: Hi people! Thanks to everyone who favorited and reviewed ^.^ This is the last chapter. I will post the M rated version reeeally soon so if you wanna read it, follow me! Alright well enjoy my final chapter.

"Need you to remove pants."

Blood rushed to his face. Russia placed a hand on Americas' shoulder.

"Am only trying to help."

America saw the hurt in his eyes even though his smile remained in place. He sighed.

"Alright," he mumbled.

Russia perked up and slipped an arm around Americas' torso.

"Woah what the fuck dude?"

"Do not want you to hurt your arm."

America relaxed a bit and allowed the man to help him. (Not that he needed help of course.) He reached down to find Russia watching him.

"I know I'm one hot hero, but could you stop staring at me like a weirdo."

Russia giggled as he covered his eyes with his hands. America rolled his eyes.

"No peeking," he smirked.

He ignored the mans' giggle fit and quickly removed his pants. He sat back down and crossed his arms uncomfortably.

"Can I 'peek' now?"

"Just hurry up, I'm freezing my ass off."

Russia moved his hands and grabbed a cloth.

"Am going to wipe away blood."

America nodded. Russia carefully wiped away the blood but couldn't find the cut.

"Hmmm," he scanned the visible skin but saw nothing.

"What?"

"Do not see cut," he said quietly. "Just tell me when it hurts, da?"

"Gotcha."

Russia prodded gently at the side of Americas' stomach. He moved slowly until he reached the top of his boxers. He hesitated only a moment before prodding at the waist band then right below it. America inhaled sharply.

"Hmm is in awkward spot."

America nodded, not looking at Russia.

"Eh, can I…"

"Just hurry up and get it over with."

"Still have gauze?"

America nodded.

"May want to be keeping it close."

America put it in his mouth and gave Russia a thumbs up. He felt his face redden as Russia rolled down his boxers until the cut was fully visible. He carefully wiped blood away from around the wound. He ripped open an alcohol pad.

"Ready?"

He nodded.

Russia quickly pressed the pad to the cut. America groaned loudly into the gauze and tried to move away. Russia wrapped his arm around Americas' chest to hold him still. Russia held him tightly as he began to clean the cut. America growled and squirmed in pain. His hands had involuntarily grabbed on to the others' arm. Russia hissed as Americas' nails dug in to his arm. He removed the alcohol pad and cool air stung at the cut. America spat out the gauze.

"Mother fucker!"

Russia ignored him and grabbed a large bandage. Americas' nails continued to dig in to his arm.

He smoothed down the bandage and smiled.

"Done."

America let out a sigh of relief.

"That wasn't so bad," he laughed.

Russia leaned down to his ear.

"Then why are your nails still buried in my arm?" he whispered.

America quickly let go and gave a nervous laugh.

"Eh, sorry dude."

"You are big baby," he snickered as he rubbed his arm.

"Nuh uh," America pouted.

Russia laughed as he stood and went to the kitchen. America stuck his tongue out at him before getting dressed and following him. Russia poured himself a shot of vodka and raised it.

"За дружбу между народами."

He drank it in one go. America cringed.

"How can you drink that stuff?"

Russia just smiled and poured another shot.

"Want some?"

"U, no thanks dude. Got any coke?"

Russia thought for a moment before shrugging and gesturing to his fridge.

"Feel free to look."

America leaned in to the large fridge and began rummaging. Russia smiled. America could feel the mans' eyes on him. He wiggled his butt.

"Enjoying the view?"

Russia almost choked on his drink. He forced himself to swallow before going into a fit of coughing, America stood with a coke in his hand. He popped the top.

"Shoulda taken a pic, woulda lasted longer," he laughed as Russia doubled over half coughing, half laughing. Russia leaned back against the counter and wiped away a tear. America smiled, maybe hangin with Russia wasn't too bad.

Russia regained some of his composure and poured yet another shot. He sipped at the drink this time, his throat stinging more than usual from his coughing fit. The two drank their drinks in a comfortable silence.

"Hey what did that mean by the way?"

"Eh?"

"that thing you said earlier when you raised your drink."

"Oh, it means 'To friendship between nations.'"

America smiled and glanced over at Russia.

"Yo dude, your heads still bloody."

Russia paused and wiped his forehead. The blood on his forehead was slightly wet on his fingers. He rubbed his thumb in small circles on his index finger, smiling as the blood stuck. America stared transfixed for a moment. He cleared his throat.

"I uh, I can take care of it."

Russia smiled as he turned on the sink and washed off his hand.

"Alright."

America lead the way back to the living room. Russia sat beside him and patiently waited. America grabbed a new cloth, he moved the mans' hair aside with one hand and gently cleaned away the blood with the other. He grabbed an alcohol pad and tore it open.

"Ready dude?"

Russia nodded. America quickly pressed it to the mans' forehead. Russia sighed and closed his eyes, letting the pain run through him. America watched curiously as he cleaned the cut. Russia didn't move and seemed to enjoy the pain. America grabbed a small bandage and smoothed it on.

"Didn't that hurt at all?"

Russia could hear the hurt pride.

"нет."

America blinked at him.

"No," Russia sighed.

"Oh. Why didn't you just say that?"

Russia shook his head.

"So, will be staying here tonight da?"

"Uh," America glanced towards the door. "I dunno."

He walked towards a window and peeked out.

"Damn, that's one hell of a storm."

He groaned loudly.

"No way in hell I'm walking through that, I'll risk staying the night with you if it means not going out in that."

"Will show you to your room," he laughed as he grabbed Americas' bag.

America followed him upstairs. Russia opened a door and gestured for America to enter.

The room was small. It was painted a soft yellow and furnished with a small queen sized bed, a small side table with a lamp and a dresser. On the wall were various pictures; three children smiling, two girls picking flowers, a young boy wrapped in a scarf that was much too large, a girl in dirty clothes with a smiling face, and scattered pictures of sunflowers.

"Is my favorite room," he smiled as he placed the bag down.

America glanced back at him. His eyes shone as he looked around the room.

"Was my room when I was very little, back when we all got along."

America nodded. He placed a hand on Russias' shoulder.

"Thanks."

Russia smiled and ruffled Americas' hair.

"спокойной ночи."

"Night."

"Hey!" he called as Russia walked toward his own room.

Russia stopped and turned.

"We should do that again sometime."

Russia grinned.

"I would like that."

America walked into his room and closed the door. He quickly changed into his pjs, turned off the light, and crawled into bed. He placed Texas on the table and buried himself under the covers. The fluffy covers were incredibly warm. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He fell asleep in warmth, to the smell of snow.

За дружбу между народами- Za druzhbu mezhdu narodamee. To friendship between nations. (If you translate it it says 'peoples' but this was a translation from a native Russian.)