Title: Sealand Sucks

Pairing: RusAme!

Rating: T for swearing, France, mild violence, slight sexual situation

Warnings: language, America-bashing, France-bashing, France, horny Russia, basic French, basic romanized Russian, human names, yaoi (man x man), spanking

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia and never will.

Summary: England challenges America to raise Sealand. What follows are cracktastic adventures in parenting as America tries to raise the Principality of Sealand with help from Japan.

A/N: I am so sorry. Life, excuses, etc. I will try to be better. Thank you so much for nearly 1200 views! 5 points to anyone who catches my 'Bridged reference in this chap. My first Hetalia fic, and it is just cracky. If you notice any spelling/grammar mistakes, let me know :)

Chapter 7~Sealand Gets a Haircut

Sealand found himself once again staring down a stack of pancakes while Canada messed with his hair. France had somehow managed to procure a small bottle of pure maple syrup and Canada was content.

"Sealand needs a haircut, eh," the Northern country remarked, untangling a clump of blonde hair. France looked up from his coffee and smiled.

"I could do it, non?" he offered, setting cup down. Sealand paled as the bearded man moved towards him from across the table. As fingers curled around his bangs, Sealand closed his eyes and yelled, "Stranger danger!"

Canada laughed quietly and France looked offended. "I am no stranger. Et I cut hair beautifully!"

Sealand scrambled away from the Frenchman and tried to run upstairs. He got halfway up before France grabbed him and tossed him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Do not worry, mon petit! Je suis un professionel!"

*:*:*

"Remind me again why you're coming with me?" America said, looking at his unusual passenger. Russia smiled and put a hand on the blonde's thigh as he leaned in.

"I want to make sure our love child gets a balanced diet, da?" he breathed into America's ear, inciting a shiver.

"C'mon, Ivan, not now," America whined. "We have to go grocery shopping," he argued, trying to remove the big Russian hand. "And he's not our love child , he's my adopted kid!"

"Oh, Fredka," Russia said lowly; America bit his lip and tried to ignore the hand that crept further up his leg as he turned into the supermarket lot. "I only wish to raise this little family, da?"

"It's only temporary," America said, breath hitching as the hand started rubbing circles over his jeans. Russia undid his seatbelt and loomed over the American.

"Then let me enjoy the time, dear," he murmured, pressing a kiss to America's neck. The blonde moaned but pushed the Russian away.

"Food," he gasped. "We need to buy food for the kid."

Russia sighed and moved away. "Of course, Amerika needs his food."

America frowned at him but followed the taller man into the store. His moodiness was instantly forgotten as row upon row of food presented itself. The nation immediately ran to a small display of Twinkies and cried softly.

"I'm so glad you're back," he said with 5 boxes in his arms. "Don't ever leave me again!"

Russia gagged at the overprocessed cake and grabbed a shopping cart, heading to the produce section instead. When America tried to put 7 boxes of Twinkies next to the bananas and lettuce, the Russian growled.

"You may keep one," he allowes. The smaller nation put on his puppydog eyes but the Russian did not relent. America crossed his arms and looked the other way, determined to wait it out. Thus, he didn't know the other had abandoned the bell peppers until he felt a sharp slap on his ass.

"You may keep one," Russia repeated, hand massaging the abused area. America's whimper of pain turned to one of pleasure , and then a whine when Russia went back to the bell peppers. "Sealand must have healthy food, not your Amerikan slop."

"Screw you," America said, taking 5 boxes back to the display. This did not escape Russia's notice, but he decided to keeo choosing healthy foods for Sealand. America's rebellion would be dealt with.

*:*:*

An hour and several squabbles later, America and Russia had made it back to the Ford with several carts of groceries. As they unloaded them into the truck bed, America made pouty faces and rubbed his jean-clad bottom. "Ivan, why'd you have to hit so hard?" he whined, resting against the side of the truck. The ash blonde continued loading fruits and milk, sparing his lover an amused glance.

"I thought my sunflower liked it hard, da?" Russia said, stroking America's backside gently.

"Not in the middle of a grocery store!" he hissed, swatting away the hand and bending to hoist several flats of Coke. Ivan pounced and gave his ass another satisfying smack.

America yelped and shit up, aiming a punch at the Russian. He caught the fist easily and pulled America to his chest. "That is not wise, dear."

Alfred pulled away with a determined expression. "We have to feed Sealand! He might be starving by now."

Russia rolled his eyes and finished loading the truck while the excigable American jumped in and revved the engine. His sunflower could be so ridiculous.

*:*:*

"WE'RE HOME!" America yelled, running into the mansion with a few grocery bags. Russia followed at a more human pace, weighted down by watermelon, milk, and the soda flats.

"What the hell are you doing to him?" America's voice rang out from the kitchen. Russia hurroed to investigate and found France standing menacingly over Sealand with a pair of scissors. The poor boy was tied to a chair and Canada was seemingly absent.

The Frenchman turned around. "Ah, Amerique, Russie, bonjour!"

"Stranger danger!" Sealand yelled, struggling against his bonds.

Russia had set everything down and was advancing, cracking his knuckles. "Privyet, Frantsiya." The nation of love gulped and backed away.

"It was only a haircut," France pleaded as he backed into the wall. The Russian nation grabbed his ruffled collar and shoved him harder against the wall.

"Do not lie to me, Frantsiya," he growled. Francis whimpered.

"Non, non, I would not lie to you, cher Russie," the Frenchman said. "His hair was très shaggy et horriblemente, so I was going to make it look beau, oui?"

Russia, grip still tight on France's lapels, gave the boy in question a once-over. His hair was looking a little unkempt...

"Oh, merci!" France cried as the bruising hold vanished. He rubbed his neck and bent over to retrieve the scissors that had disappeared during the light scuffle.

America, meanwhile, had untied Sealand and was checking him for grevious wounds and intact virtue. "He didn't...do anything to you, did he?" he glared at the foppish Frenchman.

"Al, it was just a haircut," Canada said from the doorway. America shrugged.

"Alright, your story checks out," Alfred said, but then glared at Francis. "But I'm watching you."

France shrugged and swept some imaginary dust from his nice jacket before going back to Sealand's haircut. Russia and America finished bringing in the groceries and life in the strange household continued.

*:*:*

"Where did everyone go?" Japan asked no one in particular, finding himself back at England's house.

"Bugger if I know," England answered.

xLittleFoolx