A/N Epic here! I bring you GeriPan from across the sea! (Well, depending on where you live it's across the sea. Like, if you don't live in North America.)

SO GUYS HOW'S LIFE. I feel like a terrible person because Jywy, like, writes these big, long, THICK... A/N things and I don't so now it's like I'm ANTISOCIAL when I'm totally not I mean just look how fast I use up my post limit on Tumblr. (My record is just over an hour. Yes, folks, I do post 250 in an hour.) (Edit: Now it's 55 minutes.)

Jywy invades: Um, actually I have this habit of OVER-RANTING. I'm actually trying NOT to make LONG A/N's BUT I-I—/shot

Oh, and also, Jywy wrote a long chapter last time so... *eyes flash like lightning from the hammer of Thor* challenge accepted.

Jywy invades: COME AT ME, BRO/shot

Anyways, I should stop talking now, bye.

"Who wants to be next?" asked Japan. He wrote something down in a notebook (and everyone who had already done the Pocky Game immediately looked away because they knew that they were being written down inside that notebook) and then glanced around the room. "Anyone want to play? Anyone at all?"

"NO!" yelled someone in the crowd, sniggering wildly. Hungary turned and shot a death glare in their direction and suddenly they weren't laughing anymore. (Don't worry, they weren't actually dead, just fearing for their life. After all, this isn't Supernatural.)

"Well then, we'll have to start picking people to go together." Japan said, an evil twinkle in his eyes. "How about we start with—"

Someone in the crowd stood up and made his way sleepily over to Japan. Somewhere in Japan's peripheral vision, he caught a vengeful smirk from Hong Kong. Okay, maybe he didn't really smirk, but Japan sure felt it and knew very well he was...it's an Asian thing, ok? ((A/N Jywy put this here- DON'T BLAME EPIC-TAN FOR THIS.))

Japan's cheeks heated up as Greece made his way right up to him and stared into his eyes. "Japan, I want to play the Pocky Game with you."

"Uh... um, well, I can't be in the Games because—"

"Oh, go on, Japan, you can play with Greece~!" Hungary said. She giggled at the way she had worded her sentence, and then pushed Japan and Greece into the middle of the table. "Heh heh, yes, play with him..." she murmured to herself. Japan turned to look at her, face blank and almost unreadable. She got the feeling he was somehow flipping her off, though she didn't know how.

"What flavor pocky do you want?" Greece murmured sleepily to Japan.

"Whatever kind you want," Japan said politely.

"I want cat flavor."

"..."

"Do they have cat flavor, Japan?"

"No, Greece-san. Maybe we can have peach flavor."

"Peach flavor?"

"I like peach flavor."

"And I like you, so peach flavor is good."

Japan blushed lightly and busied himself with grabbing the peach pocky and opening it. "Peach it is," he said to fill the silence, which was such a vaguely un-Japan-like thing to do that even Greece stared at him strangely.

Japan, feeling incredibly awkward, pulled out a piece of peach pocky and reached forward, sticking one end into Greece's mouth. He blushed again and slowly leaned forward, taking the other end of the pocky into his mouth. He stared into Greece's deep, green eyes and felt... extremely embarrassed. It was one thing to show affection in private, but in public... that was a no-no.

They both slowly nibbled their way forward along the pocky stick— Japan with a seemingly permanent blush and Greece nonchalantly, as if he did this every day—until they were at the end of their proverbial rope. Also known as the middle of their literal pocky.

Here they seemed to come to a stand-still. Japan didn't want to make the first move, because that would mean that he wanted to ask Greece to do something for him (and oh the things he wanted Greece to do) and Greece... well, Greece was probably sleeping with his eyes open again.

Japan slowly nibbled his way forward until their lips were only a hair's breadth away. Greece stared into his eyes in a strangely passive-aggressive, extremely sexy way, and Japan felt a wave of heat run through his entire body. He let go of the pocky pulled away, face as flushed as Romano's always was.

"G-g-gomenasai," he stammered, forgetting, in his embarrassment, to speak in English. He backed even farther away, looking vaguely like a furiously blushing girl from a shoujo manga. Greece began walking towards him, looking slightly worried (which was basically the most worried he could ever look) but Japan suddenly turned and left the room. Greece followed right behind him, and Hungary ducked under the table to a) give France a blowjob or b) to staunch her heavily bleeding nose. All the other nations stared after Greece and Japan with wide eyes. This was a pocky game. It was all for fluff— I mean, fun—and it wasn't supposed to get serious. This seemed to slowly be turning into a... a soap opera.

"Jeez, what's going on with them?" asked America as he stuffed four hamburgers into his mouth at once. "Iggy, do you want some hamburger?" he asked the red-faced nation.

"Don't. Call. Me. Iggy." England said in his politest tone. "And also, GET YOUR FAT ARSE OFF OF ME YOU BUFFOON!" England tried, in vain, to push America off of his lap. He was so mad he could cry, but he still couldn't get the stupid nation off of him.

"I think I know what's going on," said a voice from nowhere.

"What's happening, Birdie?" asked Prussia. France stared at his friend, who was talking to thin air.

"I think that Greece and Japan are going to become on—" The jaws of all the nations (except Sealand) collectively dropped. "—with Mother Russia." Russia smiled happily as he said this until a wind swept through the room and suddenly he was gone.

"I THINK THAT GREECE AND JAPAN ARE WANKING!" shouted Sealand. Finland grabbed the boy and dragged him from the room to lecture him while Sweden followed them, a dark look on his face (as usual).

"I think that they're going to make love, ohonhonhon!" Everyone stared at France, who was taking inappropriateness to infinity and beyond.

"Ve, I think I'm going to make sure Japan is alright!" said Italy, standing up and beginning to skip to the door. Germany reached forward and grabbed him by the hand, a worried look on his face.

"No no, Italy. What if you walk into the wrong room and find Spain and Romano by accident?"

Italy's eyes widened happily. "I want to see fratello!"

"No, Italy, stay here with me," Germany pleaded. He did not want Italy to be mentally scarred by... his brother's... antics.

"Okay Germany, I'll stay here with you!" Italy said, plopping himself down on Germany's lap. Germany blushed bright red but did nothing to remove Italy (which made a recently resurfaced Hungary let out a shrill scream and dive back underneath the table).

"IS JAPAN PICKING GREECE OVER ME?!" yelled Turkey. "DAMNED GREEKS!"

And Japan and Greece... they were about to be having a super dramatic conversation as far away from the other nations as they could get. (And hopefully Spain and Romano, because this was one moment where Japan did not want to run into them doing... doing... um...)

"Japan! Japan, wait for me!" Greece called. He was running—actually running—and he was getting sort of tired. He really wanted to sleep, but he knew he wouldn't be able to unless he caught up to Japan finally and asked him what was wrong.

Japan, however, was not making this easy on him. He felt both hot and cold all over and he wanted nothing more than to hide somewhere and try to calm his racing heart. He ran down yet another hallway and was startled to still hear a second pair of footsteps running behind him. His heart fluttered weirdly in his chest and he vaguely felt that he had just been stuck into a shoujo manga. Why was Greece still chasing after him? Japan really didn't want to talk to his... friend/person/country/c-crush... person... not right now, at least. Maybe later, when he had had time to think about all of this.

Greece was getting closer now. He felt that he could almost reach out and grab Japan if he wanted to. They both turned a corner and, as Japan slowed down, Greece put on a burst of speed, reaching out and catching Japan by the wrist. Japan was whirled about and nearly fell over until Greece grabbed him around the waist, keeping him on his feet.

"Japan... I..." Greece managed between puffs of breath.

"Greece-san..." Japan breathed, also out of breath. His eyes were locked with Greece's and he couldn't seem to move them from the Mediterranean nation's piercing gaze.

"Japan... I'm... I'm sorry," Greece said. "I'm sorry I made you do the Pocky Game. I knew you didn't want to, but I still made you do it anyways, and I'm sorry."

"Greece-san.. it's okay. I don't forgive you, because there was never anything for you to apologize for. It... it was I who disappointed you, and I'm sorry for that."

Greece was silent for a moment, and Japan couldn't help but notice that Greece's arm was still wrapped around his waist. Suddenly Greece said, "Japan? Can I ask you a question?"

"What is it, Greece-san?"

"Can I still ask you to do something for me?"

Japan's breathing quickened and his heart sped up. "Y-yes, I suppose so..."

"Then, Japan..." Greece leaned forward until their noses were almost touching. "Can I... can I kiss you?"

Japan's heart, he felt, was trying to beat its way straight through his ribcage. He stared at Greece's lips, which seemed far too close—yet not close enough—to his own lips. "Is that your request?" he breathed.

"Yes," Greece said.

"Then you can kiss me."

Greece slowly, hesitantly leaned forward and pressed his lips to Japan's. Japan sighed slightly and closed his eyes, leaning more into the kiss and twining his fingers in Greece's longish hair. Greece tightened his grip on Japan's waist and then opened his mouth shyly. Japan reciprocated, and then suddenly they were all over each other, hands in hair and underneath clothes and mouths in all sorts of places (but nothing over PG13- not yet, at least). They were totally having a brilliant makeout session in the middle of a hallway and Japan didn't even care.

Yet.

He would start caring, though, when Spain and Romano wandered down the hall—but they still had twenty minutes until that moment. Twenty minutes to continue making out before Romano's scream summoned the rest of the World Meeting to the hallway to find a flushed and flustered Japan and Greece with messed up hair and clothes.

But really, they still had twenty minutes.

A/N OH HELL YES I BEAT JYWY'S WORD COUNT FOR THE HONGICE HELL YES I AM AWESOME AND GUESS WHAT I DIDN'T EVEN HAVE TO RESORT TO PORN! (Although I dunno why I'd resort to porn when I can't write porn... o.O)

Anywhoo. There will be a chapter being posted some point soon. We hope to have Micro back. She went somewhere, I think, but I forgot. *whacks herself*

Okay buh-bye now~!

Jywy Intrudes: WHAT?! Beat me!? JUST WATCH AND LEARN! XD/shot

Epic: Don't threaten me, fool... -_- *pulls out gun 'cause she's from South Italy*

Jywy invades again: *takes out frying pan cuz she's Chinese* Hetalia Lessons: Frying Pan wins all the time! *becomes a Pokemon*/doesn't get shot :D

No no China has a wok. Those are completely different. What madness are you speaking?

... ._./shot for good

Heh. *laughs at your failure*

Though a frying pan and a wok do fry things and are both very good for hitting. Either way, they both win. :D/shot herself