Disclaimer: Hetalia isn't mine, but I think I'll get over the grief. It feels weird to be back in school. And back in rehearsals. Oh my gosh, today I went to a dance shop to get some ballet shoes, and the guy running the shop today was so totally gay! Seriously, everything about him, the way he walked, the way he talked, even the way he dressed screamed gay. He was all "They charge tax on dance shoes because they say they aren't 'necessities' but they totally are. I go threw about 1 pair a month..." and so on. It was pretty sick. Anyway, to the story *points up into the air in a random direction*

BTW! Ivan Braginski in this world is like the Bill Gates of our world, yes I know that he is no longer the richest man in the world, but it's close enough.

Arthur woke up feeling better rested than he had in years. He actually got up and stretched. Where was he? He knew he wasn't home, he couldn't hear his wife yelling at the cat to stop scratching up the furniture, and he couldn't be at a motel, the bed was to comfortable for any of the rooms he could afford and it didn't reek of alcohol and cigarettes. He opened his eyes slightly. These pajamas weren't his. He opened his eyes completely. This bed wasn't his. This room wasn't his. He jumped out of bed and skidded across the hardwood floor to the window. The memories of the previous night came flooding back as he stared out the window. His wife had been cheating on him and he went to the bar. Then he got picked up by some incredibly rich bloke with shiny teeth and a confident gleam in his eyes. Arthur couldn't recall them doing anything...

"So how'd ya sleep?" A voice came from the doorway. Arthur whipped around. Alfred was leaning on the door frame, hands in pockets. Arthur felt slightly relieved. "You aren't too hungover for pancakes, I hope. My brother makes the best ones you'll ever eat!" Arthur did feel a little peckish. It would be impolite to decline such an offer, right? Well that's what he told himself.

"I suppose I could." He tried to hold back his grin. Neither him nor his wife could cook if their lives depended on it, and a home cooked meal would be a nice change of pace. As he and Alfred began to walk to the staircase, another question popped into his head. What would go great with pancakes? "Hey, do you have any Earl Grey tea?" He casually asked.

"Huh? Nah, I don't think so. We might though." He answered. "I'm a coffee guy myself." Arthur had to admit that he wasn't surprised by the answer. They strolled into the kitchen to see what looked like a relatively normal family. Sort of. Matthew was wearing a "kiss the chef" apron while quietly whistling the Canadian national anthem and Ivan was sitting is a suit and tie reading the newspaper, completely engaged by the story of the suicide bombings in his hometown of Moscow. The scent of maple syrup wafted through the air. The real stuff, not the crappy store-brand shit.

"Ah, morning Alfred. Um, Arthur, was it!" Matthew greeted, a lot calmer than he was yesterday. Cooking made him feel serene. Ivan looked up from his newspaper. He quietly looked Arthur over. He certainly was different. He seemed a bit older than Alfred, though he was shorter. He was swimming in the pajamas that Alfred had lent him.

"Oh good morning. I apologize, but I seem to forgotten your name." He was British too. That was a new one. Alfred had always been intrigued by accents. He used to have such a big fascination with England, he used always say that he love England so much, that one day he would marry it (AN: Kids say cute things like that, I thought it would fit.) Ivan stood up.

"Hello, Arthur" He stuck out his hand, which Arthur awkwardly took in his own. "My name is Ivan Braginski." Arthur's jaw dropped.

"Ivan Braginski? As in the founder and CEO of APH electronics." He gawked. Ivan gave a small smile and nodded. Arthur turned to Arthur and stupidly stupidly said "I work for your father." Ivan raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, do you now? What do you do in the company." He asked. He didn't talk to normal employees that often.

"I'm in accounting." Arthur answered, chuckling slightly. He was going to eat breakfast with the one of the world's richest men and his twin sons. Matthew came over with a plate of hot pancakes. Alfred cheered and rushed to the table, dragging Arthur along with him. Alfred quickly dug into his pancakes as if he hadn't eaten in days, while Arthur calmly drizzled some syrup on them and cut of a piece, blowing on it gently before placing it in his mouth. His eyes widened, these were the best pancakes he'd ever eaten.

"So Arthur, would you like anything to drink." Ivan politely asked.

"Would you have any tea by chance?" He sheepishly asked. Ivan laughed his husky Russian laugh.

"Of course. Toris!" He called. A man with shoulder length brown hair tied back in a ponytail rushed into the room, sliding on entry. Arthur stared at him, mouth open in awe for the second time that morning.

"Yes, do you- Arthur!" He asked in shock.

"Toris, is that really you?" Arthur replied. Matthew and Alfred exchanged glances.

"I think they know each other."

Dramatic pause. Okay, dramatic pause over. I wanted to bring Toris (Lithuania) in. He would work for Ivan, although I might have him just be his cousin or something visiting, but Ivan would use him like a butler. No updates tomorrow, I'll be gone most of the day, but I might update on Thursday. I hope to get some USUK is soon. Well, see you guys later.