A/N: Yeah, so, new chapter! Haha, sorry about the absence of updates.
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Enjoy!
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Alfred lived his life mostly alone because of this stupidity he found in every grown up, his manly moments only interrupted by his brother offering him with cookies. After all, he always was fond of his near mirror image of a sibling, not that the cookies he baked were absolutely heavenly. Not at all.
Even with the company of his adorable brother, Alfred was usually shut in by himself, with no one to interact with besides the radio of his rocketship. That was until he accidentally crashed his beloved ship on the barren surface of the planet Mars.
Something had gotten jammed in the boosters so that it couldn't move properly, a hamburger. And when the poor rocket had crashed into the surface of the red sand, it had banged up the machine quite a lot. So stuck there without a companion or any knowledge on how to fix a rocket- his personal mechanic had taken a break, he was supposedly sick, but Alfred had seen him lollygagging with some drinking buddies -he started the complicated repairs on the ship.
It was more or less a life or death situation for the hapless astronaut, as of course he forgot to pack extra oxygen tanks. He liked to 'live life on the edge' as he always said. His oxygen tank was only enough to last him a week or so, if he conserved.
When he finally fell asleep, he had no clue what time of day it was, but he fell asleep nonetheless. His leather jacket was a pillow for his golden head, and he had to figure out a comfortable enough position that didn't cut off his air supply before closing his eyes. The fact that he was a whole planet away from human civilization didn't stir him in the slightest; in fact, it rather comforted him. That is why he was so surprised when a voice awoke him.
"Hey, you, American, draw me a brown bear, will you? A big, fluffy, Russian brown bear!" the voice said.
"THE FUCK-?"
"Draw me a brown bear!"
Alfred leaped to his feet then- or at least tried, his rocket stopped him from doing so, and he fell to the ground groaning -and his eyes met a rather wonderful little boy. The little person had the silkiest wheat-blonde hair, with round, boyish cheeks and the most stunning violet eyes that Alfred had ever witnessed. He had a prominent nose and rosy splotches on his face. In his small, chubby hands was a pipe, and he had a long, pinkish scarf wrapped around his neck that blew in the wind.
The astronaut only gaped, documenting the beauty of the child into his mind so he could draw it later, and promptly choked on his drool.
This little boy was on Mars, an inhabited planet as of yet, looking right at home and wanting a Russian bear. Something really wasn't too right with that. He didn't seem to be lost or dying, and Alfred didn't notice an oxygen source of any sort. Was this perfect deity of a child even human? The line between dream and reality felt like it was fizzling out, like a can of soda left open for too long.
When Alfred finally stopped wracking and coughing, and swallowing a bit of saliva so his mouth didn't feel so dry, he spoke up, tentatively.
"The hell are you doing here on this godforsaken planet, kid? Where are your parents?"
If that was what one called tentatively, of course.
The kid replied, just as 'tentatively', drawing out each word as if explaining it to a mere toddler, which Alfred felt like at the moment.
"Draw. Me. A. Bear."
It seemed rather pitiful, but Alfred was absolutely terrified. The little person seemed for intimidate him more than his troll-like calculus teacher ever did, and he had no choice but to take out his brand new ballpoint pen he bought at Texas; it was huge and blatantly American. He also took out a notepad meant for matters of consequence, and tore out a sheet of paper. He then paused in the act of picking the annoying nubs of paper off of the edges, looking up at the small child apologetically.
"I have no idea how to draw. Sorry, kiddo."
He smiled nervously, twitching.
The child, who was nearly fuming at the Americanness of the astronaut, did not have the patience to deal with American impishness. He smiled back at Alfred, eyes glinting somewhat dangerously.
"That is no excuse. Draw me a bear!"
Sweating furiously, the American nodded and started working on a drawing. His hand automatically moved on its own, blanching under the pressure of the menacing smile. Without his notice, he had drawn a picture of a moon boa swallowing a rocketship from the outside.
"I don't need a moon boa swallowing a rocket ship from the outside! Moon boas and rocket ships are so American! At my place, we don't tolerate anything remotely American."
The little boy said, disregarding the drawing with a huff. He was getting really impatient.
Alfred paused for a second. Finally, someone that understood! He sat up and did a dance.
"What are you-" the kid blinked at the strangely spazzing man, before being swept into a crushing hug.
"YOU UNDERSTAND!"
"Amerikan, get off!"
"WE ARE MEANT TO BE!"
"No- get off, you capitalist fool!"
"BFFs FOR LIFE!"
Alfred was whacked on the face with a rather forceful metal pipe.
"Ow!" He rubbed his forehead.
"That's what you get," the child pouted.
"Ugh..."
"You still haven't drawn me that bear."
And that was how Alfred met the little prince.
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Aaand, this is where the fanfic parts with the actual storyline.
Yup, so innocent! Russia is such a little darling~
Reviews would be greatly appreciated!
Tak and Best Wishes,
Wannabe-Danish-Cookie