Welp, welcome to Chapter Seven! This chapter proved to be a pain to write, mainly because it wanted to have so much going on at once. I struggled to pen it the way I wanted it, but in the end I'm moderately satisfied with how it came out. So, I hope you enjoy it, and don't have a fight with the players like I did ^^;

LAST CALL FOR THE POLL! TOP THREE RESULTS WILL BE POSTED IN THE NEXT CHAPTER! GO VOTE NOW FOR ALFRED'S FIRST SEXUAL SITUATION!

DISCLAIMER? DO WE REALLY NEED TO DO THIS YET AGAIN? REALLY? (in ch. 2)

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- o-o

Laughing at the doggy pile of drunken nations and pissy British guy, Antonio stepped inside and helped his friends to their feet. England, glaring at the trio, stood up and brushed himself off, his face clearly showing his disapproval at the state they were in. "Goddammit Francis, why in the hell did you drag these two back with you?!"

Stepping over and leaning on Arthur's shoulder, Francis waved a hand at them carelessly, his grin lopsided. He reeked of wine, the smell making the other wrinkle his nose in disgust and shove him off. "Why, we were just talking about the two of them joining our party!" He stumbled, and fell against Arthur again, earning a sharp punch to the back of his head.

"WHAT?!"

The three focused on Arthur, a sharp intake of breath going unnoticed from the bed. Prussia took a step forward, leaning sideways, and poked Arthur's chest with a bony finger. "Ja, we want a shot at fat ass over there too. It's only fair, you know."

Spain nodded. "Si. Why should you three get to have all the fun? Maybe Alfred would prefer someone who's a bit more, mmm, experienced in the art of passion~" The lecherous look on the Spaniard's face made Arthur's skin crawl.

Shoving Francis off his shoulder again, Arthur stepped away from them, and crossed his arms while fixing them with a disdainful glance. "And just WHY should we allow you to come with us? You two are hardly capable of conducting yourselves in a proper manner."

Prussia rolled his eyes, and stumbled over to flop on the edge of the bed. Spain half frowned, half pouted. Francis just propped himself yet again on him, sighing and shaking his head slowly. "Ah, but Angleterre, they would only add to the experience! It would give Amerique a wider variety to choose from."

Canada raised a finger, about to intercept the conversation, but pulled it back quickly when Arthur turned and fixed the Frenchman with a look that had its roots in his pirating days. It made the one in question gulp audibly. "And just how is it that they know about our plans to begin with, hmm?"

Francis froze, his eyes widening in a way that would have been quite comedic if the situation was different. "Uhm, well, you see Angleterre…"

"You told them, didn't you?"

The voice made the four swivel their heads to stare at the bed, where Matthew sat with his arms crossed, an unreadable expression on his face. "Papa, remember that talk we had a few years back about being a gossip?" He rose from the bed, and made his way slowly around the foot, towards the group. Arthur, being an expert at reading the atmosphere, eased away from the trio of idiots, choosing to take a seat at the tiny table in the corner.

His words were dismissed with a careless wave of a hand. "Oh Mathieu, you know as well as I do that I cannot resist sharing such a juicy bit of information." He smiled, stepping forward to wrap him in his arms. "It isn't like any damage has been done-"

He never got to finish his sentence, since his mouth became suddenly occupied.

By a pissed off Canadian's fist.

"What the FUCK makes you think I'm going to sit back and let my brother be mauled by these two?!" Francis had hit the floor when the blow came, blood now coming from a badly split lip. Francis held his mouth, the pain shocking back to sober momentarily.

Prussia and Spain gaped in shock. Since when was the quiet, polite Canadian so bold?!

Arthur sat in his corner, cackling with glee. This was just lovely, really! "Get him, love!

Growling, Matthew snatched Francis back to a standing position by his collar. He leaned in, glaring at him; his usual warm violet eyes now a very light shade of Amethyst, almost gray in color. He trembled with ill-suppressed rage, wanting nothing more than to throttle his father-figure for being such an idiot. "Now, you want to reword that previous statement about damages?"

When Francis moved his mouth to scold him for his reckless behavior, Matthew shut him up with a knee to the stomach. Snarling in his face, he drew his fist back again. "Try again, hoser!"

What happened in the next few minutes was worthy of being recorded and preserved for the world to see. Arthur, now having moved behind the table so that it acted as a barrier of sorts, cheered on his former charge as a very pissed off Canadian proceeded to beat the living shit out of the frog. Spain, knowing a dangerous situation when he saw it, inched his way to the bathroom door, planning to use it as a temporary hiding spot just in case the blonde boy tried to come after him. Both watched on in fascination as the nation of Canada revealed just how assertive it could be.

Prussia, on the other hand, had dismissed the one-way beat down and instead was focusing on the sleeping form only a couple of feet away. He glanced over at the others, and noted that they were completely distracted. Grinning to himself, he slid up the bed slow and easy, pulling himself onto it all the way and stretching out beside the American. Lying on his stomach, his gaze fell on the relaxed face of the future recipient of his awesome five meters.

He had to admit, Alfred was quite handsome, if not a bit on the side of cute and innocent-looking. Thick lashes rested on rounded, sun kissed cheeks, making him want to reach out and stroke them. His nose was straight and narrow, with the slightest upturn to it, suggesting that perhaps it had once been broken. His lips were a rosy pink, full and promising to be quite soft if he were to sample them with his own. The picture was completed by elegantly formed eyebrows and a proud forehead hidden by golden locks of fluffed, silken hair. The boy's trademark cow-lick, which he referred to as "Nantucket", defied gravity and the natural fall of the rest of his hair.

The sound of the racket behind him faded away to a dull buzz as his attention was drawn to the lock of hair, and without really thinking about it, his fingertip reached up and stroked it with a light touch. America twitched in his sleep, a full body jerk telling the curious albino that perhaps it was an erogenous zone. That was good information to know.

The same finger now drifted lower to trace the bridge of his nose, the sensation making Alfred scrunch his face up and murmur something unintelligible. The digit continued its quest, red eyes glued to the other's face with rapt attention. He traced the outline of those tempting lips, his tongue darting out to lick his own suddenly dry ones. Temptation called his name, whispering in his ear to go ahead, no one was paying attention.

Giving a mental shrug and whispering, "Why the fuck not?," he leaned in and carefully pressed his lips to the sleeping nations, his eyes closing as a shudder of utter delight ran through him. 'Hell yes, his first kiss is all mine. Ha! I'm so fucking awesome.'

He felt the lips against his part with a sudden gasp, and his eyes snapped open to meet the surprised, blue-eyed gaze of who he now declared to himself his next major conquest. Pulling back slightly, he gave a smug grin, and then rubbed his nose against the others. "Good morning, gorgeous."

While this exchange was being made, Matthew had finally released his victim after Arthur caught his attention, reminding him that he didn't want to kill him. He now sat at the table with the elder nation, glaring at the wall with his cheeks puffed out.

Francis, having pulled himself to a sitting position with some difficulty, sat on the floor and examined himself carefully. Spain stepped over, and offered him a damp washcloth. He thanked his friend with a nod, and began to mop the blood off his chin and jaw, where he had bled from a cut over his eye.

Arthur was in the middle of raining his praise over Matthew's mean right hook and laughing at the other for getting his ass handed to him when an unholy shriek erupted from the bed. Everyone turned just in time to see Gilbert fly out of it to land on the floor.

The man lay on the floor, groaning at the pain that had shot through the side he had landed on. Alfred, on the other hand, shot out of the bed like it was on fire and flattened himself against the wall, breathing hard, and eyes wide and frightened.

Matthew and Arthur were immediately on guard. They rushed from the table over to the boy, who was shaking. Concerned for his brother, Matthew rested a hand on his shoulder, causing the other to jump at the contact. He cut his eyes over to Gilbert, who was now standing up and wincing, rubbing his hip, then back to Alfred. They narrowed into a glare when he saw the deepening color spreading on his twin's face.

"Alfred… what did he do?"

Arthur was busy glaring at Gilbert as well. "Yes poppet, what did the bastard do to you?"

As his self-appointed guardians eyed the silver-haired male warily, Alfred felt himself grow hot with embarrassment. His cheeks were nearly the color of the blood pounding through them. He opened his mouth to speak, but choked on his words. Gilbert kissed him! In his sleep, but still, it was a kiss!

He raised a shaky hand to touch his mouth, the sensation of the other's lips still lingering on his own. Other than the kiss he had received from his childhood crush centuries ago, this was the first time anyone had ever been so bold with him.

And you couldn't really count a kiss from your childhood as a true first kiss. That had been an innocent gesture. This, on the other hand, was the kiss of one who wished to claim him as their own, no matter how fleeting it had been.

His brother and Arthur observed him, both of them coming to the same, and correct, conclusion. The elder sighed and turned to speak to Matthew. But before he could say anything, Alfred rushed past them, jumped over a surprised Francis, shoved Spain out of the way as he asked, "What's wrong? What happened?", and bolted from the room.

A moment later, they heard the slam of a door, indicating that he had went to his own room, most likely to hide until he felt safe enough to venture out again.

Four sets of eyes turned to gaze at a newly enraged Canadian, that eerie gray color returning to his eyes. Cracking his knuckles, Matthew leveled them at the Prussian, whose own eyes filled with terror.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-At another hotel in Berlin, across town-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Tch! Where the hell is that bastard?! He should have been back by now!"

"He did say he might be awhile, fratello."

Lovino Vargas, otherwise known as South Italy, paused in his pacing to glare at his twin brother. "Yeah, awhile. Not all fucking night! What, does he expect me to sit back and wait on him to return before heading back home?!"

The other brother, Feliciano Vargas, shrugged, his only response being his trade mark expression of "Ve~".

Sighing, Lovino threw himself across the bed in their shared room, lying spread-eagle on the rumpled sheets. "Dammit, why in the hell is he so easy to distract? I am ready for a hot bath in my own house, and a good night's sleep in my own bed!"

Feliciano smiled. It was so obvious that his brother had a thing for their Spanish friend. But, he did bring up a good point. If Antonio had one fault, it was being very forgetful. He made his way over to Lovino, and sat next to him, rubbing his back in hopes of soothing his southern twin. "Don't worry; he'll make his way back in no time. I just know it!"

Hazel eyes shifted to gaze into golden orbs. Growling in frustration, the other nodded. Together, the two sat and waited for him to return.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-Back to the Berlin Smackdown-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Arthur left Matthew to his task of proving who the most awesome nation was, and made his way to Alfred's room door, a much-subdued Francis accompanying him to check on the very flustered nation. He was quick to fill him in on what had transpired on the way.

With a stern warning and the threat of having Matthew go at him again, they reached their destination. Raising his hand, he rapped his knuckle on the door. "Alfred? Let us in, it's me and the frog."

No response came from within.

Arthur rapped harder. "Come now lad, you're over reacting. Open up."

Still no response came. Shaking his head slowly, Francis gave it a try.

"Now now, mon ami. It's alright, there's no need to be embarrassed. Talk to us."

There was a slight shuffling behind the door, but it remained closed.

The Brit rubbed his temple, feeling that headache barreling down on him at full force. Glaring at Francis, wanting nothing more than to choke him yet again, he knocked once more instead. "Poppet, we're only trying to help you. Open up, please?"

There was some more shuffling, followed by the sound of the lock being undone. The door opened a bit, and a wary Alfred peeked out before waving them inside frantically. He was quick to close and lock the door behind them, turning slowly to face them with the eyes of one that's been scared tharn. (1)

Arthur crossed his arms, and leveled a firm gaze on him. "So, Gilbert kissed you."

Alfred nodded, blushing hard. Francis 'hon hon'ed', grinning like he had just won the lottery. Arthur shot him a scathing look, which only made him hon more. He turned back to the younger one. "Well?"

"W-well what?"

He rolled his eyes, and gave the boy a "duh" look. "Did you like it?"

The other gulped, wishing the floor would open up and swallow him. This was so damn embarrassing! "I don't know! That was technically my first kiss, if you recall." He made his way over to one of the beds in the room, and sat down. Sighing, he buried his face in his hands, suddenly very mind weary.

Francis held up a hand to silence Arthur when he opened his mouth to retaliate, and strode over to Alfred, taking a seat next to him. He eased his arm around his shoulders, and pulled him into a cuddle. "It's alright if you did, you know. Gilbert has been around for a long time. I'm sure he's quite talented." Arthur took a seat on the other side of Alfred, patting his knee and giving him an encouraging smile. He was doing that a lot lately, it would seem.

America grew all flustered again. "I know that!"

"Shh! Calm down, mon cher, and think for a moment. When you realized what he was doing, what was the first thought that came to your mind?"

Alfred thought back to earlier, when he had first woke up. Even though it was a bit fuzzy, he remembered feeling all warm and gooey inside at the contact.

"Well… to be honest… I think I kind of liked it." He looked back and forth between the two, searching for any clue that they were laughing or in scorn of him. But all he saw was the pleased (and slightly excited on Arthur's part) faces of his "parents".

France pressed on. "Sooo… you think you'll be able to do it again?"

After thinking about it a moment, Alfred slowly nodded. A small smile returned to his face, his trust in these two slowly building.

Arthur smiled as well, happy to see that he was finally beginning to peek through the cracks of his self-imposed shell. "Just keep in mind that you might not like kissing anyone who offers. Make your choice wisely."

Alfred nodded again, agreeing with him. Then he realized that Matthew wasn't with them. "Hey, where's Mattie?"

He didn't have to wait for long. Suddenly there was a loud crash, and the sound of a person running down the hallway crying for help. Another person ran by, obviously his brother roaring at him to back and take it like a man. Lastly came Spain, cheering them both on. The three looked at each other. Arthur grinned, Alfred look confused, and Francis just looked scared.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-Back with the Italies-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"F-fratello!" Feliciano was doing his best to restrain his brother, who had armed himself, determined to go out and hunt down the tomato-bastard. "Please, don't do this! Big brother Spain said he would be back, and he meant it! We need to stay here!"

Lovino fought against his brother's grip, doing his best to make it to the door. "Fuck that! That bastard doesn't tell me what to do! What's he going to do if I do go?!"

They continued to struggle, one unable to completely overpower the other

"LET ME GO FELI! GO HUG UP TO THAT FUCKING POTATO BASTARD!"

"NOOO! PLEASE, LOVINO, STAY WITH MEEEE!"

"DAMMIT! WHEN I AM THROUGH WITH THAT FUCKER, I'MA DEAL WITH YOU!"

"WAAAAAAH!"

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- o-o

AN: This is a reminder for you to go and vote. Remember, it will close Wednesday at 9 pm est.! And please continue to review. I am in love with you lovely people, srsly X3

(1) – "Tharn" is an expression used in "Watership Down", a book written by Richard Adams. The meaning is basically being caught off guard, unable to react to the fear you feel. Ex: You know how deer freeze if caught in the beams of headlights at night on the road as a car barrels down on them? Yeah, that's being scared tharn. The book is an excellent read, and is definitely worth looking into.