Wiktor: Welcome back! We've picked up a few more readers along the way, so I welcome you back as well!

** New Story Update: I'm going to be that guy and promote something here like an ass. On Wednesday, 19 October, I will be launching a new Hetalia piece called "Snowcone," featuring Prussia. I'm telling you, because I'll have to work on both at the same time now. Here is the summary, if you're interested. Sorry, not sorry. XD

"Following Prussia's death, Liechtenstein puts together a party to screen a series of home movies and help Germany cope with his anguish. Follow Prussia's story from 1989 to 2028 and relive his funniest pranks, heartfelt moments, and time as a human. A story of family and friendship."
Genres: Comedy/Hurt/Comfort

"Would you stop blinking?"

"You are doing all of this on purpose!"

"Am not! It's my damn job! Now sit still so I can look at your eyes. I'm almost done with everything."

Prussia moved his ophthalmoscope, temporary blinding Austria as he worked. America watched from where they all sat at the kitchen table, intent on what Prussia was doing. They were fortunate that he made the choice to drive overnight from Germany to see them, showing up early on Christmas morning in an outwardly decent mood. His wife and son sat in the other room, bleary from the early morning commute and sluggishly realizing that Prussia had brought them here on summons instead of the family vacation he had convinced them to partake in. America had called him at the last minute the night before and he grudgingly agreed. Seeing as how Austria blatantly refused to talk to his personal doctor out of fear that his condition would be released to the press, the two had no choice.

Prussia had worked in the medical field for quite some time. After the fall of his empire, he progressively exhausted his immortality and his once unbelievable ability to heal, a process that had slowly rendering him nothing more than human. His own condition sparked his obsession with country based medicine and his experience with the biology of nations earned him a scholarship to study the field in Germany. Eventually, he joined the long slew of fanatical doctors studying immortality in a last desperate attempt to restore his own.

Austria wasn't pleased. Prussia was the last person he wanted to see at the moment, secretly nervous that his formal diagnosis was to be made by someone he previously warred with.

Prussia wrote a few things down in his disorderly chart. "You have a few broken blood vessels in your eyes." He pointed out. "I'm surprised someone who's taken hundreds of beatings can't even regenerate something as easy as that!" He chuckled.

"Stop being an ass." Austria mumbled, tilting his head back as Prussia studied him further.

"Open your mouth, then." Prussia directed, his laughter fading back into an atypical professional tone.

Austria glanced to America, who smiled in reassurance and nodded, before choosing to finally conform with Prussia's order.

Several awkward moments passed before Prussia returned to his chart, scrawling awkward chicken scratch into the margins and leaning back in his seat. He reread his annotations and sighed, dissatisfied with what he had found.

"There's some interesting things going on here." He began, mulling over his supposition. "How long have you been doing this?"

Austria shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Why do you need to know that?"

Prussia looked up and blinked. "Because I need to figure out who the hell I'm going to refer you to. How long you've been doing this will tell me why your cellular regeneration sucks." He explained.

"Hey, it's ok! He knows what he's talking about." America piped up, trying his best to calm Austria's nerves. He stood up and moved to where he sat, placing a hand on his shoulder from behind. "He's got a pretty good reputation around here."

Austria could feel Prussia's ego inflating and tried to appear unruffled, crossing his legs. He glanced to the side and huffed. "If you must know, it was only about fifty years." He retorted indifferently.

Prussia coughed in disbelief, slamming his clipboard and pen vehemently on the table. "What?!" he exclaimed, breaking his professionality. "I knew you were thick, but I never thought you were crazy!"

America swallowed at Prussia's sudden display of aggression. "Why? What does that mean?"

Prussia took a deep breath and exhaled, becoming exasperated. "Your biology is different than a human's. But," he accentuated, "when you constantly hurt yourself like this, it slows your cellular regeneration and you can't heal."

Austria held firm, putting on an air of false composure. He was determined to not let Prussia get inside his head. "And how does this affect me?"

"You idiot, it means you've got the body of a human! Sure you're immortal, but that doesn't make a difference now. You're going to keep getting worse unless you stop this." Prussia brushed his uneven bangs from his face. "I'm going to send you to a specialist."

Austria frowned. "I have no need for that kind of thing. Do you have any idea how expensive they are?"

"Do you have any idea that you could actually die from this?" Prussia bit back sharply. "Quit ruining the gift that you have, because people around the world would kill to take it from you!"

The whole room grew quiet and motionless. Austria merely couldn't believe this was true. He wasn't sure if Prussia had a point or if he was taking another opportunity to try and get under his skin as he had always done. Death was never a possibility for a standing country, and everyone in the world knew that. They were all powerful and almost worshiped for their amazing abilities; even the idea of suicide could never relieve what many of them felt. He had never faced the threat of death before. His capitol was strong, his people were better-off than ever, and his pecuniary system was in great shape. He felt America's fingers twitch at the remark, but snubbed his instinct to look up at the foreseeable heartache that would most likely be on his face.

"I-I don't believe you." Austria stuttered curtly.

Prussia raised an eyebrow. "You've done this so often and so long that you won't be able to regenerate fast enough to keep up with your own self harm." He shrugged and stood from the table. "It's up to you what you believe." He pulled a pad of paper from his pocket and wrote down a few names. "If I had it my way, I'd send you to the doctors I work with. But you're probably too lazy to go to Germany. So," he muttered in between scribbles, "I'm sending you to a few people, who will call you in a couple of days on my orders. One is a physician who specializes in eating disorders and one is a psychiatrist who specializes in PTSD in countries. I'm also recommending you spend some time in a group home until you get this crazy diet in check."

Austria tried to retort, but Prussia cut him off, placing the names in front of him. "Quit hurting yourself." He hesitated. "You're better than this."

Austria was speechless at Prussia's apprehension and sudden level of concern after the many years of slander thrown his direction. He never realized that so many people would be frightened for his well-being, but remained thoroughly unconvinced that he was to die, or that he could ever have hope of pulling himself out of his own self destruction. It was far too ingrained in him and beyond a thought, merging into his very lifestyle and affecting him beyond anyone's grasp. A few doctors could never help him at this point.

Prussia called out to his family and gathered his things, flashing a cheeky smile to the others. "Merry Christmas. Try not to let this eat you up until after the holiday." He spoke cheerily, as though his comment would miraculously make his diagnosis disappear.

Austria watched him until he was out of sight. He heard a small child giggle and Prussia spout some inaudible words of affection, followed by the swift creak and click of a door. Austria waited for the telltale throttling of a car engine outside before relaxing and slumping back into America's hands, dismayed at what he had been told. Prussia was full of nonsense and only spouted off things he had read about humans in books, Austria thought. Just because he had gone through medical training didn't mean he knew everything, and he definitely could never begin to comprehend what Austria had been through. He took a slow deep breath and looked to the paper Prussia had left behind for him before hastily tearing his gaze away. He didn't need this. It wasn't like he could actually die.

"Are you ok?" America whispered sympathetically, massaging his shoulders in a gentle circular motion. "That was a little intense. Do you really think everything he said was true? It couldn't be true could it?"

Austria shook his head, masking his actual feelings. "Would you make some tea?" He asked blankly.

When America spoke, he didn't sound nearly as buoyant as his typical self. "Yeah, sure." Was all he could muster, letting go and shuffling sullenly to the counter, his frustration oozing like honey into the already dark disposition of the morning.

Austria watched him pull a pot from the cabinet and fill it at the sink, setting it on the stove and lighting it. For the first time, he began to notice America's lethargic movements and embitterment with the situation, each moment seemed to put more tension on him and sapped his joyful liveliness away. There was no usual excited banter or cheery and fanatical immaturity towards the holiday, but rather a desolation between the two that Austria had always realized but denied. In the process of harming himself, America was being wordlessly crumpled in the confusion. Austria blinked when America sniffed and hunched over the counter, wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve and letting out an uneven breath. Austria felt a deep pang of omission at having drug America into his personal life. Now, he wasn't just suffering the mind-numbing stress by himself, but was the reaper of pain to the people who seemingly cared the most about him. For some reason, he couldn't stop himself from making things right.

"Alfred, look at me." He asked, dropping his act of equanimity. "You need to be happy on Christmas." He spoke softly, treading lightly around the minefield America was putting up to protect himself.

"You do too." America squeaked out, running his hands through his hair.

Austria stood and moved to the stove, not allowing himself to take his eyes from America. He clicked it off and moved the pot from the burner, abandoning it all together before tugging lightly at the back of America's shirt. He wasn't quite sure what he was doing but a sudden flood of ideas gave him hope that Christmas may not be totally lost after all. He needed to get America out of his fog and back into the spirt of things before he holed himself up in his room and broke down completely.

"Go and fetch your coat." He leaned over the counter to try and get a glimpse at America's countenance.

America sniffed once more and frowned, skeptical at the odd about face Austria's personality had taken. "What are you talking about? It's snowing and I know you hate the snow. Plus, I haven't even opened my presents yet."

Austria rolled his eyes. At least there was some glimmer of America left inside this hollow shell. "Please, go fetch your coat and meet me in the garden." He mused again, tapping him lightly in the chest. "I think it would be a good idea to change the mood for once."

America looked down on him, finding it hard to discount Austria's eccentric request and the fresh and mysteriously tempting tone of his voice. He felt a small smirk peek on his face at his atypical playfulness. How he could be so casual after such a horrendous physical, America couldn't understand.

While Austria was in no mood for a smile, he forced himself to try, ending up with an inept look of palpable strained holiday spirit and indecision for his unnervingly humorous intentions. "I would like to to…ehem…play a game."

As if on cue, America's eyes lit up and a happy beam tossed his gloomy demeanor to the side. "Wait, are you actually serious?" He cried in anticipation. "Dude, you never wanna do stuff like this! What made you change your mind?"

Oh no. What had he gotten himself into? "I used to do things like this every Christmas with my children." Austria half lied, but sure he was still convincing to a certain degree. "It would bring back some wonderful memories for me." He trailed off, nearly shuddering at the dishonest cheeriness of his own voice.

America squealed in excitement and took off for the coat rack at the door. "Holy shit this is gonna be great!" He peeked from the doorway and waved Austria hastily outside, tugging on his coat and giving no effort to contain his rapidly escalating voice. "Go, go, I'll be out in a second after I get my boots!"

It didn't take America long, thank goodness, to bound through the snow like a rabbit to where Austria stood, already frozen in the chilly air. He shivered and bit his tongue when America kicked up a huge flurry of snow from the ground, spraying his front with tiny ice crystals.

"So," America giggled, "What are we going to play?" He hopped several times in place, bursting at the seams.

Austria tried to think. His plan was to get America out of the house and thinking positively, but he hadn't gotten as far yet as to what they were going to do. What a stupid thing for him to do! How could he forget the most important part of his scheme? He reached up and adjusted his glasses, thinking back to what Italy used to force him to play sometimes when he wasn't busy. Without thinking, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"Hide and seek would be nice."

Austria felt his shoulders slump when he realized that he couldn't retract his idiotic idea. Sure, he had played the silly game with Italy when he was a child, but no adult in their right mind would be as juvenile. Surely, America would laugh it off and think of something more suited to their age.

Unfortunately for Austria, America was that kind of adult. "You know me so well!" He shouted in astonished exhilaration. "Hell yeah! I wanna be the one who counts." He brought his hands to his face like a mask. "I can be stealthy like a ninja in the night, and I'd even bet money that you won't hear me coming."

Oh, God, this was getting worse by the minute. Austria glanced around the barren garden. Not only did he completely regret this decision, but there was nowhere to go to play. A few bushes here, a pile of snow there, but nothing of substance he could use as concealment.

"Are you sure we can play out here?" He asked slowly, trying to weasel out of the nightmare he had created.

America immediately nodded and gave him a thumbs up. "Yup! It's more fun outside because there's more space to hunt." He growled like a dog and covered his eyes before spinning around. "I'll give you one minute!"

"Wait, I-" Austria exclaimed, halting his sentence when America began counting.

Damn. Now this was a matter of preserving his pride. If he didn't find a good place to hide, America would laugh at him. If he did, however, he could knock down America's senseless ego a few notches and watch him fall gracelessly back to earth from where he often flew in the clouds. He looked back to America who continued counting, albeit slowly. Austria hated himself for playing along, but took off anyway, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his coat and focusing on the landscape around him. He didn't dare go past the fence surrounding his house, giving him an extremely limited range to work with. He thought quickly. America expected him to stay outside, but he wouldn't have enough time to find a good enough place to conceal himself in the house. It would make it exceedingly difficult to escape in the event that America was drawing close. The garden itself was a terrible idea, as there was nothing but shrubbery and dirt, both undesirable to the fabric of Austria's expensive woolen coat. The garage was clean but smelled strongly of gasoline and Austria knew a coughing fit would be a disaster. Time was running out. Austria held his breath when he heard America drawing closer to half a minute. He glanced to the gardener's shed and finally hatched an idea. He moved briskly through the snow, leading his tracks to the back of house and up onto the patio to stop at the door. Carefully, he backtracked a few steps, making sure to step the way he came, before following the brushed stone path to the shed. He stooped down and cunningly wiped the surface of each stepping stone with his gloves, giving a natural look and effectively erasing his tracks from sight.

From far across the yard, America called out. "I'm ready! Hope you're hidden because I'm the master at this game!" He yelled cockily.

Austria hurriedly pulled the open the wooden door and ducked inside, stopping in his tracks when he realized the predicament he had just walked into. Often times, he would garden himself in the summer but preferred to work with his hands, shying away from the unknown domain his gardener had made under his nose in the shed. He was beginning to realize why his gardener seldom finished his job, though he would disappear all day to work. A lone metal chair sat in the corner amidst the few gardening tools they had, surrounded by piles of worn books and magazines. Austria creeped across the wooden floor of the shed and grabbed the first magazine he saw, livid that the employee that he had so graciously hired was taking more time for personal enjoyment than tending to his shrubberies. He turned the magazine over and immediately dropped it to the floor in alarm. Naked women were plastered and splayed over the front of every in an array of gravity defying positions and tastes. It wasn't like Austria hadn't seen most of it before, but some of the images were downright degrading and filthy.

"Roderich? You know you can't hide forever!"

Austria shot up at the sound of America's voice, turning from the mountains of porn to the door. He pressed his back against the wall and ever so slowly glanced out the windowpane. America was bouncing along cheerily as he checked every possible avenue along the way, dancing around bushes and jumping up to peer into windows of the house. Austria narrowed his eyes in annoyance when America began to shift the decorative statues in his flowerbed, but quickly withdrew from the window when America looked in his direction. Hopefully he would take the bait and follow his footsteps, giving Austria the opportunity to find a better hiding place.

"Come on, man." America's muffled voice chuckled from outside. "I've dug people out of foxholes with my hands. This is nothing!"

Austria looked back quickly and nearly sunk to the floor when he noticed America approaching the shed. America was too clever to realize that Austria wouldn't be careless enough to lead him on as noticeably as he had. Austria took a profound, wintry breath, feeling himself resort to his previously war-like instincts he was sure had left him long ago. America wasn't as stupid as he let himself on to be. Silently, Austria began to count his flaws and searched around the room for the best course of action. America was egotistical and loud. It wouldn't be hard hear when he was close. He was decent at perceiving detail, but when he was sure he had something figured out he could be extremely careless and blind with arrogance. Austria felt disgusted when he realized what he must do. A battered timber barrel sat against the wall, capped with a secure piece lying flat over the top. Austria loomed over it, unmoving, and contemplated why he felt the need to go along with America's ridiculous games. Was it really so important to go as far as scrunching himself up like a child in a dirty barrel just to please a man he had only been friends with for less than two weeks? He didn't like America that much.

A scratching and ominous creak sounded outside as America pulled open and shuffled crates around, giggling just under his breath. Austria jumped when several knocks came at the wall.

"You in there, bro?" America called, already knowing the answer, before threateningly scratching at the wall again in an attempt to smoke Austria out.

Austria couldn't wait any longer. He would not be bested by someone less experienced in warfare than he was! He pried the board off the top of the barrel and stepped inside impulsively and without looking. Immediately he almost dropped the board, scrambling to grab it before it clattered loudly to the ground. He froze, one leg in the barrel before clapping a hand over his mouth to prevent himself from crying out. Terrified, he slowly looked down at the disgusting substance pouring through every gap in his snow boot. A light grey cloud radiated from the sudden shift of weight, sending the smell of burnt firewood radiating through the room. Austria had thrust himself right into a half full container of fireplace ash. The horror! Burkhart kept it for use as a natural fertilizer in the summer and Austria was wholeheartedly regretting ever mentioning the idea, wishing and begging himself to go back in time and find a different place to disappear. He stifled a cough, wanting to yell at the sinking feeling washing over him at the realization that his beautiful and rather luxurious leather boots would take ages to scrub clean. He dug his nails furiously into the wood of the board and refused to move, each twitch allowing more soot to flood in around his toes. Of all the horrible things he had done for America, this was by far the absolute worst, repulsive, undignified, and enraging he had ever had the misfortune to accidentally thrust himself into. America would pay for his criminalities!

Another knock resonated closer to the door, followed by more shuffling of rubbish outside. Austria battled with himself, knowing if he pulled away that the ash would scatter and lead America right to where he was. Retaining what dignity he had left, Austria held himself high and grudgingly accepted his fate, scrunching his face up in agony as he forced himself to pull his body into the malicious barrel. Ever so gradually, he lowered himself, clasping both hands over his nose and squeezing his eyes shut in disgust as the ash came to his waist, glomming on to every fiber in his coat. He was completely committed now. Austria didn't want to move, desperate for this nightmare to finally be over. This filth would drive him out of his mind! At the sound of the door, he forced himself to grab the board and pull it last minute over the top.

America burst into the shed and threw his hands on his hips. "I knew I found…huh." He trailed off and slowly frowned. "What the hell? I could have sworn I saw you!" He exclaimed.

Austria remained as still as he could. He could hardly breathe through his fingers, knowing any sound would set America off and lead to his downfall. After coming as far and stepping thousands of miles from his clean and safe comfort zone, he wasn't about to give up. He could feel the heavy thud of America's footsteps on the wood outside. They were slow and impending, somehow making Austria's heart race in his chest as though some portentous fate were coming to meet him. Every inch of his body screamed to be rid of the powdery ash but he held firm in his resolve, determined to outlast America in this competition. However, America was lingering longer than Austria had expected. He gave a curt huff of aggravation, rapidly squeezing his eyes shut at the fog of powder he kicked up, feeling it clout him in the face and coat him an unpleasant shade of grey. That was it! He was nearly to his limit.

The sound of pages rustling and a long, low whistle came from outside of his prison. "Woah!" America chortled, flipping through one of the magazines. "I never knew Austria was into shit this kinky."

Austria had endured hell long enough. He thrust the board away and jumped up furiously, sending out a smokescreen and causing America to stumble back with a rather unmanly scream. Out of instinct, America chucked the magazine at his attacker and covered his face with his arms, coughing in the thick mist.

"Those are not mine!" Austria shouted vehemently, expertly dodging the porn magazine and struggling to climb from the barrel. He may be covered head to toe with dust, but he would never let America accuse him of such risqué carnages! "Those belong to my gardener!"

After a few moments, America looked up from his arms. His eyes widened in paralyzing disbelief and his jaw dropped, the two standing and staring at each other for a long while. America stuttered a few incomprehensible noises and slowly raised a forefinger to point in awe at Austria's disheveled appearance.

"Holy… fuck." He wiped his face clean and caught something in between a cough and a laugh in his throat.

Austria narrowed his eyes wrathfully and stalked America to the door. "If you laugh, there will be serious consequences." He susurrated, fury pumping through his veins.

America tried his best not to giggle, clamping his mouth shut and taking in a wobbly breath before clearing his throat. His eyes watered in amusement as he watched tiny poofs fly from Austria's clothing with every step. Just as he was about to turn blue from lack of oxygen, he couldn't contain it any longer. America nearly dropped to his knees as his entire body was wracked with intense laughter. He jabbed a finger in Austria's direction and tried to sputter out a few words only to continue his fit of one-sided merriment.

Austria was so angry he couldn't see straight. He raised a hand to strike America across the face with his palm for his actions but gasped in surprise when America anticipated his movements, grabbing him from around the waist and spinning him a full circle before holding him in place to face him. For the first time, Austria was able to experience just how much strength America really had. It didn't hurt, but Austria felt his anger replaced with untainted awe for his incredible physique and didn't struggle, staring up at him from where America had effortlessly locked him in place. America had lost his glasses to the snow in the confusion, a smug smile of satisfaction on his face. After he was sure Austria wouldn't smack him, he let go and brought his thumb to his lips and licked, reaching out and drawing a tiny smiley face in the soot on Austria's cheek.

He chuckled lightly. "Oh no! It's your smiley twin." He teased.

Austria quickly reached up and wiped it away, feeling his face burn with what he thought was embarrassment. He watched without words as America hunted around for his glasses. He had coated his front and half of his face with ash, but America didn't seem to give any notice whatsoever. Austria remembered the disgusting feeling clinging to his skin and turned towards the house. He needed a shower. As soon as he started off, he felt a tiny pop underneath his heel, blinking and frowning. He reached down and felt through the snow, feeling his heart sink at the realization of what he had done.

America grabbed his shattered glasses from Austria's hands, holding them up to the sunlight to frantically inspect the damage. "Oh, crap! Don't you look where you're going?" He snapped, flicking the shattered glass from his lens out of his palm and to the ground.

Austria didn't know what to say. "Do you have an extra set?" He suggested, staying cool and collected.

America stuffed his destroyed frames in his coat pocket and crossed his arms. "Only at home." He muttered, glancing off to the side. "These were my favorite ones too!"

"That is what you get for forcing me into that barrel." Austria retorted, knowing his argument was invalid. "Every man who wears glasses should always have an extra set handy."

America bit the inside of his cheek and looked him over. "Well," he gave an overexerted sigh. "I guess it's not the end of the world." He squinted at the fuzzy distance. "Stuff that's far away will just look like a bad 90s cartoon for a while."

Austria refused to apologize. He felt shame, but nothing near what he had already experienced.

"You know," America started, an air of false sadness to his words, "If I have to be halfway blind, it's only fair for you to be as well!"
"What are you talking about?" Austria asked, breaking his silence.

America was speedy, snatching Austria's glasses from the bridge of his nose faster than he could blink and taking off in the opposite direction with a laugh. Austria stomped in the snow and turned, met with a blur of color that was confusing and hard to look at.

"You bring those back right this instant!" He demanded through the cold.

Austria swallowed when he was met with a troubling stillness. America wouldn't just leave him here like this…would he? Austria listened for a few moments, feeling his other senses heighten at the near loss of his eyesight. Trees rustled in the distance and an angry string of cars honked to one another somewhere in the city. The cold smelled fresh and revitalizing, untainted by pollution.

"Alfred, stop playing these ridiculous games!" Austria called out. He put his hands before him and took careful steps, feeling with his feet what he couldn't distinguish. America had definitely left him behind, as awful as it was to believe. He walked for what seemed like ages, groping blindly for anything familiar in the yard. He knew he was on the path to reach the house and from there could most likely manage to feel his way to the door.

Austria froze when he heard a soft crunch behind him. Before he could turn around, America grabbed him once more and slung him with surprising ease over his shoulder.

"Gotcha again!" America laughed almost hysterically, trudging his way through the billowy snow and to the back door of the house.

Austria felt fatigued from all of the exhilaration, his energy draining at an even frequency. "Give me back my glasses, you big fool." He managed to squeeze out.

America reached into his pocket and passed them back without a fight, rolling his eyes mischievously. "Yeah, call me whatever you want. You're the one who fucked mine up."

Austria was relieved at the restoration of his sight, stabilizing himself on America's shoulders with his hands before being lowered down inside like a child. America shucked his outer layer and shook the soot from his hair, letting it fall carelessly to the floor. He grinned and threw his coat to the ground before taking off in a rush upstairs.

"I call the shower!" His voice rang out from over his shoulder.

Austria listened to him thump upstairs and slam the bathroom door as though it were a race, stooping carefully to pick up America's coat. He was stiff when he moved, not wanting to disturb the last remnants of ash clinging to his clothing before carefully pulling off his coat and setting it gingerly on the tile of the kitchen, knowing it would be easier to clean up later. His boots came next followed by his socks, both filled to the brim with annoying grey powder. Austria covered his mouth as he yawned a dainty yawn, feeling desperate to clean himself in the soothing hot water of the shower. He looked up to the ceiling as the pipes creaked, continuing to remove layers of clothing until he felt confident enough to move across the carpet and to the bathroom upstairs.

America sneezed in the water, wiping his nose before hunting around for the tiny bottle of shampoo he had brought with him for the hotel. Eventually he gave up and grabbed the first thing that smelt nice, squeezing into his palms and moving from the water to lather it into his hair. He closed his eyes and inhaled serenely, still in disbelief that Austria would have the gumption to get as filthy as he had for the sake of a game. Honestly, it was refreshing to see him trying new things, even if he ended up hating them at the end of the day. America already knew that he would have to pay for his dry cleaning, but he didn't care. It was a small price to pay for a once in a lifetime glimpse of something he would never let Austria live down.

America perked up at the sound of a light knock at the door. "I'm no done yet!" He called, predicting what Austria was going to say. "Chill out for a few minutes!" He frowned when the door swung open, thankful that the glass of the shower had fogged. "Dude, seriously, I'm not done!" He repeated in warning.

"Honestly, what could be taking you so long? Finish and get out. I feel filthy." Austria responded.

America shrugged. "I'm washing my hair. Just wait in line like everyone else." His eyes flew open at the clinking sound of a belt buckle.

"What do you mean everyone else? You and I are the only people here."

"What are you doing?" He asked skeptically, hesitating and moving his hands from his hair to cover himself.

He took a breath of surprise, refusing to turn around when he heard the glass door slide open against the metal rail. America couldn't say a word, staring steadily into the corner when he heard it click softly shut. Why? Why did Austria have to be so assertive?

"Stand still." Austria instructed shortly, placing a cold hand for solidity on America's shoulder and reaching up to take the showerhead from where it stood suspended at the wall. "Don't turn around; I won't be long. I need to get this off of myself."

America willed his heavy breathing to slow in an attempt to mask his clearly perturbed cognizance. He averted his gaze down to the drain and watched the water run dark grey, tainted with ash and dirt. He blinked the soap from his eyes as it trailed down his face, knowing it wouldn't be wise to move his hands until Austria was finished.

Don't look. America screamed in his mind. Fuck, don't be a perv! Don't fucking look!

He straightened back up and nearly fell forward, finding his knees had gone weak at the joint. He let out a silent sigh and tried to focus on anything he could to rip his concentration from the growing white elephant in the room. He began to hum faintly and apprehensively, rocking back and forth to the fast tempo.

Austria must have sensed the tension. "Do you find it strange that humans refer to us as human?" He asked out of the blue, trying to incite some kind of conversation.

America shook his head swiftly, nothing more. He could feel Austria watching him from behind, his gaze piercing straight through his rouse and into his chest. He began to fidget a little at the soothing yet ruffling sound of Austria's voice.

"Why are you ignoring me?" Austria prodded.

America furrowed his brow, glancing over his shoulder and taking care to keep his look at eyelevel. "For starters, it's not exactly normal for you to just jump in here with me! Plus," he raised an eyebrow, "you wear your glasses in the shower?"

"There is nothing atypical about this. We are both men." Austria responded in a matter of fact tone. "I needed to be able to see where you were."

"Dude, you can't be that blind. Anyway, t-there's nothing to see!"

"I am not blind. I have a double astigmatism. And you don't have to be so embarrassed."

America momentarily forgot the awkwardness of the situation and giggled at Austria's messy hair. "Your hair looks like a jellyfish! You'd fit right in at the beach."

Austria shuddered at the sudden change of conversation. "The beach? What a horrible place."

"What?" America exclaimed. "How can anyone hate the beach?"

Austria rinsed himself off and gently wiped his glasses clean. "There is nothing but sand and trash and those dreadful spiders with claws." He explained, forgetting the English word he was thinking of.

"Crabs?" America blurted out before narrowing his eyes in repugnance. "I hate crabs. I always step on them and they pinch my feet!"

"I have done exactly the same." Austria nodded briskly in concurrence. "I don't even bother to go to the beach anymore."

America shivered, waiting for Austria to finally stop hogging the hot water and pass it back over. He took a risk, quickly reaching up and wiping the dripping soap from the side of his face, catching Austria's attention before scrambling to cover himself again. He swallowed and hastily passed the showerhead over America's shoulder before silently leaving to dry off.

"Damn, it's about time you finally gave it back." America laughed through the glass. He wiped his hand across the pane, revealing a tiny window to the outside world. He stuck his tongue out and giggled when Austria rolled his eyes, taking a towel and padding out of the bathroom to find warm clothing.

"Hurry and finish so we can have tea downstairs. What kind would you like?" He called from further down the hallway, leaving the door wide open.

"Have any hot chocolate?" America yelled back over the rushing water, overjoyed at the feeling of warmth revisiting his cold skin.

"I think I can manage something." There was a long pause before Austria spoke once again. "Would you mind if I use your chapstick? I seem to have lost mine."

America sneered lightheartedly. "I don't care, do whatever you want!" They sounded like a married couple. He hurriedly finished in the shower and hopped out, eager to spend his last afternoon with his new best friend. He intended to make the best of it, with a small Christmas surprise he had been hiding up his sleeve.

Wiktor: I can't believe that I set posting days for myself, but I'm still posting at random like I used to. Meh. I hope you enjoyed and please take the time to review if you read this. They make me happy.