A/N: Here's part of the side-story, integrated so keenly into this story. XD IDK it fits alright I guess. XD And we miss nothing of Alfred and Ivan's relationship. Whoot for me~! And you guys have no clue what I go through to write this stuff XD My mom was about ready to kill me and I had to lie out my ass. XD And to The Fujoshi, I stole some of your sex XD I'm sorry.


"Bonjour?" the voice asked as the phone was picked up. Alfred worried his bottom lip as he heard his Papa's reply. How to explain this without letting on that it was Mr. Braginsky.

"Hi, Papa."

"Oh mon dieu, how did you get our number this time?"

Alfred chuckled nervously, "I saw it when Dad gave it to Ivan. Um, I wanted your help with something actually. And PLEASE don't tell Dad I called. He'd kill me. I know this is supposed to be like a second honeymoon and all, but I seriously need your help."

He heard a heavy sigh on the other end, "What is it this time mon cher. I certainly hope you didn't set Ivan's house on fire."

"That was an accident!" he whined, "And it isn't that. It's about someone from school. I really like them and I want to tell them, but I don't want to make it awkward or anything. So how do I confess without getting rejected and the entire relationship becoming an awkward, muddled mess?"

"Oh, you want help with amour. Well Alfred, persistence is key to having a successful relationship. It may start out rocky depending on the personality of you significant other, but as time passes, it becomes your life. Your love shall be an extension of you and the feeling goes both ways. When you kiss, there should be that warm feeling that bursts inside your chest, if there isn't one, then they were just not meant for you."

Wow, his dad could be corny. Still, he understood what the other was telling him. It was sort of like a sixth sense, knowing where the other was instinctually, knowing when they were upset, if they were in trouble, and when they wanted you with them. Alfred was already in that stage. He just knew when Ivan wanted to watch television with him, or to go outside and play catch with the baseball. They were in tune to each other's feelings and needs, but would Ivan understand the feelings as well?

"That helps a lot Papa," Alfred chirped, still in thought, "That's all. I won't call again. Promise. Bye!"


Francis placed the phone on its cradle and slumped back into the bed of the hotel they were staying at. The body beside him muttered incoherently before cuddling up against the Frenchman, limbs thrown over his bare torso as the other hugged him half-conscious. "Who was it?" Arthur yawned, laying his head on the other's chest, sighing contentedly.

"Alfred. He wanted help with a situation and he needed advice. I think he made a good decision. I am the Master de l'amour, non?"laughed as the other smacked his pectoral harshly. Not at the comment, but because when he said it, he fondled the other's ass.

"You already had your way with me," Arthur grumbled, "Stop wanting more you horn dog."

"Ah, but on our first honeymoon we were at it every hour of the day."

"Yeah, and I was twenty-nine. I'm old now, so stop," the Englishman hissed, though his warnings didn't deter the other. "Why ever did I save your bloody arse on that beach?"

"Because it was your duty. Whatever happened next was simply convenience," the taller blond laughed again.


Francis looked out, back to the beach where the remaining French troops were stranded. He pitied them, no doubt about that, but no way did he feel so bad as to offer to trade places. He had been part of the French Rear-Guard that had been pushed onto the outskirts of Dunkirk on the beach. Overhead the final RAF aeroplanes escorted them to England. He was more than relieved to have a meal in relative peace and a calm smoke.

He stepped off the carrier onto dry land, just about ready to kiss it. "Ah, mon dieu, how I missed solid ground!"

The blond behind him gave a chuckle, "Francis, you do realize that you would have been crying for a boat if you had never been rescued, right?"

"Oh you are such a kill-joy Giliam. And correction, I may not be alive if I hadn't jumped on that yacht. If that had happened, your life would have become a thousand times more boring."

The Belgian scoffed, "Nice to know you found a place in this world for yourself."

By this time they were walking pass the hanger where the RAF landed their planes. The last pilot pulled in and turned off the motor before jumping out of the cockpit. Francis had never been so close to an aeroplane, so they interested him vaguely, but the pilots look so fine in their uniforms, especially the small one that was now leaving the hanger. It looked like a fairytale. The sun behind the young man as he pulled off his helmet to show off brilliant blond which he shook out in what seemed like slow motion. He had sexy green eyes that put emeralds to shame and such smooth, pale skin. His corn silk hair glowed like a halo around his head and Francis knew exactly why this man was a pilot, because he was a fallen angel that God sent to earth as punishment for being too beautiful.

"Giliam?" the Frenchman sighed, off in dreamland, "I think I have died and gone to Ciel."

"Yeah, I kind of figured you'd speak some nonsense like tha- Hey!" the other soldier hissed as he noticed his companion floating after the RAF pilot. He huffed and crossed his arms. Francis was so stupid, but he may as well watch the show.

"Ah, Mon amour!" the love-sick Frenchman called out to the retreating back of the British pilot who, ironically, turned around at the call. He caught up to the shorter man and almost fell to pieces, "Oh mon cher, where have you been all my life! Better yet, how have I survived without your beauty?" He rushed forward to capture the flustered Brit in a hug, and perhaps a kiss.

Only to be stopped short by a mean right hook to the jaw. "What the bloody hell are you doing you damned frog! What in tha name of God are you doing!"

The others around the scene who knew Francis snickered while others laughed at the sheer stupidity of the scene. Giliam sighed and stepped forward, "I'm sorry, he's been delusional since birth."

"Well keep the frog away from me! Last thing I need is warts."

"Ah, but mon cher, frogs don't have warts, you are think of a toad," Francis piped up cheerfully, regardless of the purple bruise forming on his jaw bone.

The Englishman scowled, "I knew that frog! Pity I didn't break your jaw, but since you're still here," he crackled his knuckles, "how about we correct that?"

Francis was still seeing angels singing hymns from above and the pure perfection of the other, "As long as I get to stay near you mon ange." Oh he did not miss the blush that dusted the other's cheeks as he set his mouth in a nervous line, his bottom lip protruding in a childish pout.

Before getting his lights knocked out.


"Je t'aime, mon cher. Ne personne d'autre que toi. Tu, qui es mon ange qui a été levée du ciel parce-que le dieu a était jaloux avec ton visage rayonnant," Francis muttered into the blond locks as the other suckled softly on his collarbone. He moaned gently, massaging the other's scalp encouragingly as the Englishman marked his pale skin with nips and sucks before licking it apologetically, though Francis knew it wasn't so.

Arthur's half-lidded emerald eyes gazed lovingly into cyan, "Te amo toto corde," he smirked playfully, "Etiam si stultus."

"Ah, Arthur, you can be so mean," Francis wailed in over dramatization. To end the conversation, the Englishman crushed their lips together. Both were men, both were soldiers; they fought for dominance with a clash of tongues and teeth instead of artillery and tanks. Francis smirked into the other's lips, knowing already that he would win. His fingers swept lightly over a long, jagged scar that ran down Arthur's left side, causing him to moan and allowing the Frenchman to invade and explore every courner of his mouth as though he didn't already have it mapped by heart.

To even the score, Arthur thrust his hips forward into his partner's, who heartedly pushed back with a heavy groan. Their hands entangled themselves in each other's hair and explored their lover's body that they knew so well as they grinded into each other.


Alfred thought over what his Papa had told him and tossed the idea in his head. Persistence he had, but if Ivan turned him down on the first go, well . . . he'd rather crawl under a rock and die some pitiful death. If Ivan said maybe, well hell yeah, he'd keep it up. He'd come bouncing back and showing the teacher with any and all forms of affection. Besides, Alfred already knew of the fireworks. He had felt them, so Ivan had to be his. He was so certain.

He frowned as he stared blankly at the television that he and his brother had been watching in the guest room. Well, Mattie was watching it anyway. The younger twin seemed bent on ignoring his brother at all costs, which was just fine because he didn't want his brother knowing about what he did with Mr. Braginsky as the elder man slept. He was a little ashamed of it, but he could push pass that. He suddenly swung his lags off the bed and headed out the door.

"Where you going?" Matthew called worried, hoping his brother was going to do something stupid.

"Going to the bathroom."

Yeah, he was going to do something stupid.


Now what he was saying wasn't a total lie, he was heading towards the bathroom, just across the hall from it. He could feel the Russia on the other side. That was the extension Francis had talked about, the natural knowing of the other. He could almost feel him, the heat in his arms was nothing more than a ghost, but he could swear it was real. He reached forward and laid his hand on the door knob . . . only to freeze. Wait, he didn't know how he would do this! What could he do? How could he pull this off in a very un-awkward, or at least the minimally awkward, way?

'Think with your heart,' his Papa's voice echoed in his head. Okay, not really, that would have been seriously cliché. But he did think of that on his own, which was still kind of cliché, but not as bad as the previous one. Pretty much, whatever happened happened, great plan. He rolled his eyes sarcastically before taking a deep, steadying breath. He counted to three, and turned the knob gently. Despite wanting to fly in like he normally did anywhere else, he slowly pushed the door open to find his teacher at the desk, his back turned to him as he worked over the last tests they had taken. He didn't even seem to realize the other was there. The second his toe inched pass the threshold, his mind just stopped. He didn't tell his feet to move, but they did. He didn't tell himself to stop directly behind the Russian man who only came up to his chest as he sat, but he did. And he defiantly didn't tell his arms to wrap around his teacher's shoulders, but he did.

He felt Ivan stiffen in his grasp, surprised by the other's abrupt appearance. He turned his head at an upward angle to see what Alfred wanted while a finger helped guide him while his other hand cupped his pink dusted cheek. The other's touch sent shivers down his spine and resurfaced the dream he had the night before. Alfred gazed deeply into violet eyes, as though seeing into the very recesses of his mind, the all-knowing gaze sending chills through him. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out, instead, his voice was smothered by two lips pressed lightly against his own. Alfred didn't kiss him hard like he thought he would have, he wanted Ivan to want this too, not to force him into it through raw domination.

He had his eyes open a quarter to see the other's reaction, though he felt the warmth explode in his chest. Ivan's eyes widened with shock at the kiss, and the American watched as the surprised gleam faded and the eyes slowly drooped down before the Russian lightly pressed back. Their lips began moving in unison, and Ivan turned to have better access to the other who gently ran his tongue over his bottom lip, requesting entrance. With little hesitation, he parted them and felt the warm muscle invade his mouth and massage his tongue. He wrestled back, knowing full well the younger would overpower him, but enjoying the game all the same. Their tongues danced and twisted about each other until they couldn't tell which belonged to whom.

Alfred broke the kiss for air, his hand that rested on his cheek held him in place as they looked into each other's eyes. Ivan's lavender eyes were innocently wide and open, like an open book. He felt that warmth as well. Alfred wanted to kiss him harder, savor his taste, but then he looked away, the light in his eyes dimming as he shied away from him. Panic rose in the teenager's chest as he felt an almost tangible wall being woven between them. His heart pounded in his ears and he redirected the teacher's gaze to his own.

"Alfred," the Russian sighed, and Alfred knew that tone. It was a tone that his parents used on him when they knew the next thing would be disappointing. "This . . . is wrong, Alfred."

He shook his head slowly, gaining momentum, "No, no. Ivan."

The Russian man looked down and clasped his hands on his lap, "Alfred-."

"Ivan," he whispered, gently forcing the other to face him, "I know you're older than me, and we're both . . . men. But did it feel wrong? Regardless of everything else."

He could see him cracking. Alfred could see that 'yes' in his eyes and how it sat tantalizingly on his tongue, but then the door closed again, but not as tightly as before. He could see he had a foothold. "Alfred, you have to understand-."

"Yes or no, and don't lie."

Ivan looked down once more, but muttered something unintelligible which caused Alfred to kneel before him, looking up encouragingly with a small smile to urge him on. He enjoyed the heavy blush on the other's face as he shrunk behind his scarf. "Ittshfelmtret."

Alfred chuckled and pulled down the fabric, "I can't hear you."

"Yes," he groaned embarrassed, "it felt right, but Alfred-."

"Then please give it a chance Ivan," he spoke in a near whisper, grasping the pale white hands that rested on the other's lap. "How do you know if you never try? Who cares what anyone else says? We know it's right, we are the only ones who need to know. And I'll be seventeen in three months or so, that only leaves one more year and then we won't have to hide it. I'd be an adult."

"But what would others think? I am your teacher."

He pecked the peach colored lips gently, "Damn them and their thoughts. You and I are the only ones who matter."


Matthew was becoming nervous. What was his brother up to? In all honesty, what damage could Alfred do that caused him to be MIA for the past, he glanced at the time, half hour? Surely he didn't get himself into such a big mess that he would be missing for so long. Just in case, since this was Alfred who he was talking about; Alfred who had talked him into sliding down the hill on a piece of cardboard when he was nine, Alfred, he decided to check up on the older twin. For being the older of the two, the blue-eyed brother got into moiré trouble. Luckily they weren't anywhere near the same . . . most of the time.


"Alfred, are you sure about this? You can't very well regain your virginity after giving it up, and you're so young I d-." He was cut off by lips crushing themselves against his own and he melted again. Oh how this teenager made his heart pound and any resolve he wanted to place up melt before it was even fully constructed, like ice on a hot summer day . . . on a metal pan. He relaxed into the comforter of the bed as the kiss deepened slightly, a hand resting on his cheek

Alfred pulled back to look into those half-lidded, unsure lilac eyes and taking in the slightly parted lips that made a small 'O'. He smiled, brushing his thumb over the Russian's blushing cheek, "You have no clue how long I've wanted to have you. To me, this has been a long time coming."

"To you kids, time is nothing. I should know," he smirked playfully, "I was one."

Alfred laughed, his hands slowly undoing the teacher's buttoned shirt, "Stop that, you make yourself sound as old as my dad, and that just gives some bad mental images." Ivan opened his mouth to speak, but it came out as a hiss as chilled hands made themselves comfortable on his chest. He arched into it, finding the heat difference arousing to a degree. He smiled softly; Alfred had been taking pleasure in cutting him off lately, a show of dominance by the other that he knew well from being in the military.

The blonde teen pulled his shirt over his head, wearing nothing but the tee shirt he wore to bed the night before. He leaned forward, talking the other's mouth once again, their tongues wrapped up with each other as timid arms wrapped around his neck and latched at the nape, those pale fingers tangling themselves in his hair. He ran his hands over the Russian's frame, feeling him squirm as he ran over a ticklish spot. Feeling a form of sadism, he continued dancing over the spot, not allowing the other to escape the kiss. Ivan's fidgeting increased as he whimpered into the other's mouth, his hands still held around the American's neck, though they shivered from the self-control it took to not grabbed at the boy's arms to make him stop. He would let Alfred have his way; it was his first time after all. Still, as his assault over the sensitive skin continued, the ashen haired man couldn't help how his hips bucked into the teens. At least it stopped his attack. Alfred even pulled back to catch his breath as Ivan did the same, saliva dribbling from the courner of his mouth. His eyes were closed and his chest heaving as air filled his lungs, not realizing the effect he had on the teen.

Alfred was now painfully hard, and all from a simply thrust. It was a little embarrassing, but he wanted more, he wanted the other coming to his name as he pounded into him. Alfred promptly took the other's flushed skin that expanded across his chest between his teeth sucking and nipping, coercing sweet moans from the other who tangled his hands back in the blond locks with even more vigor, the teen's fingers tweaking the hard nubs he had been fantasizing about his first night watching his teacher undress. Taking the distraction for all it was worth, Alfred unfastened the buttons of the other's pants, fumbling them down to above the knees and palmed the other's half-hard penis.

Ivan gasped and bucked into the warmth that pressed lustily against his cock. He moaned as it massaged his member to full erection, his back arching into the body above him. He was like putty in the boy's hands. Alfred groaned in pleasure as he felt the throbbing pulse of the length in his hand as he pushed against it, still confined in the other's undergarment. Alfred pulled down the rim, enough for the member to peek out. The heated air caressing the exposed head as precum slid down. Alfred pulled away to admire the other, half naked, his pants about his knees and his twitching cock poking out from his boxers. That wasn't counting the bruise he left on the other's left pectoral. He would see it every time he got undressed. He would know the American owned him, and he would know they were meant to be. Then Ivan's face, flushed in pleasure as he panted heatedly. The American pulled fumbled with his own pants before kicking them off, accompanied by his boxers that made a pile with their shirts on the ground, his aching erection exposed to the air.

Ivan eyed the teen's cock, seeing that it was the same length as his own, but slightly wider. He groaned in want as he imagined that penis inside of him, thrusting in and out with all his might. He felt a heated burn at his entrance as he continued picturing all that they could do, but it being the boy's first time, they would most likely stick to something simple. And it had be a while since Ivan had been pounded into, like a nine-year-while. Alfred took the initiative and pulled the other's remaining clothes off and discarding them with his own clothes on the floor. Ivan took his newly acquired freedom to spread his legs wantonly, hooking his arms around his calves to keep them raised, and his hips pushed forward to give a clear view of his ring of muscles that twitched in expectation. That mixed with the half-lidded, pleading eyes accented by the pleasured blush. Oddly enough, the other's scarf that was still wrapped comfortably around the man's neck made the scene all the more alluring. He looked absolutely delicious.

Alfred placed three fingers at his teacher's mouth who took them and sucked them sensually; coating them thickly in saliva while the blond rolled his balls with his other hand. He loved watching how the other's body reacted as he hit his sweet spots. The ashen haired man would gasp and whimper and moan as his legs shuddered in the air and his grip tightened on his pale calves while his anus clinched. Not able to wait any longer, he pulled his soaked digits out from the orifice and aligned them with the ring of muscles before pushing one in, closely followed by a second. He wasn't too tight, seeing as how he stretched himself the night before, but damn was he hot. The heat that engulfed his fingers caused him to moan softly, along with Ivan, who bit his lip in both discomfort and pleasure.

Remembering how he saw the other prepare himself the night before, Alfred scissored his fingers and curled them against the inner walls, earning gasps and moans of encouragement. Not thinking much, other than how to please the man below him further, he experimented with his tongue, adding his third digit and wiggling his tongue in beside them. Ivan's eyes flew open with an outcry as a ribbon of semen ejaculated from his head, covering his chest and a bit of his cheek in the white substance. Alfred felt the muscles tighten around his fingers and tongue as they continued to wiggle around in his hole before the teen pulled back, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand that had also been in the other's ass.

"A-Alfred," Ivan moaned, his eyes closed, splotches of his uncontrolled orgasm still speckling his red face. The American leaned forward, licking the cum off of his face, enjoying the taste of the salty substance. Heir lips met and they kissed, deep and slow as Alfred, using the left over saliva from his tongue molesting the other's hole and hoping it was enough, he pushed in. Ivan groaned uncomfortably, and squirmed, though attempting to force himself to relax. Alfred didn't notice his partner's discomfort, and pushed in more into that raw heat, panting as he tried not to cum too soon. But oh god did it feel good. Once he was in to the hilt, he noticed tears at the edges of Ivan's eyes. He caressed his lover's cheek. "Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"N-nyet," Ivan gasped, shuddering as he adjusted, "I-I just need to get used to it. G-give me a moment." Once his breathing evened, he nodded in an almost jerking motion, "D-da, I'm ready."

With another kiss, Alfred pulled out slowly until he was half way in and pushed back at the same pace. It wasn't long until Ivan was whining for him to move faster, push deeper. He practically impaled himself farther on the other's cock and the teen moaned as he buried himself in balls-deep, passionately kissing his partner. Ivan panted heavily and arched his back in need, struggling to keep his leg raised when he suddenly saw stars. Alfred pounded directly into his prostate.

"Th-THERE!" he screamed, precum beading at his head. Alfred positioned himself to pound into the bundle of nerves straight on, pumping his teacher's cock with one of his hands. Ivan peaked first, crying out as he came hard into the other's hand and Alfred, not expecting the sudden clinching of the muscles, followed immediately after, shooting his seed into the other's hole.

Alfred collapsed on his lover, yes lover, and caught his breath, his cock softening inside the one below him who was gasping for breath. They lay like that until the teen pulled his limp member out and watched in fascination as the white substance dribbled out of the stretched hole and onto the blankets. "Alfred," Ivan whined, holding his arms out to the other. Alfred leaned down again, only to be flipped onto his side and held tightly, the elder male burying his face in his neck, "Please hold me."

A smile graced his lips as he held on to his love, "I will never let you go."


Matthew turned away, shell-shocked to the utter core of his being. He had gone to find his brother only to see he was fucking their teacher's brains out while the Russian man enjoyed every bit of it. He hadn't meant to stay and watch, he just couldn't move, and then he got his own problem to deal with. Why couldn't they have closed the door all the way either! Mattie's mouth was set in a stiff line ad he stemmed his nosebleed with his shirt. He would have to address this arrangement with Alfred soon. Very soon.


A/N: I want to whole heartedly thank Mizuni-no-neko for her beloved French translation~! I also want to thank everyone who has taken the time to read my story and those who spent even more reviewing. I cannot thank you enough~! I also wanted to inform my readers that today (Dec. 31) I am 16 and any reviews/comments I take happily as a wonderful B-day present~! ^^ Thank you again~!