"Arthur! We haven't gone on a date night in so long!" Francis whined, tugging at the Brit's hand. The Englishman grimaced trying to free said hand. His husband could be so annoying.

"That means leaving them alone!" He argued, motioning his head to the teenage couple watching a movie on the couch.

"Arthur, mon dieu will you not just let them be? They're fine! Ivan is perfectly safe!" Francis sighed, it was so very irritating. Alfred had been dating for months now! His leg had basically healed in the meantime, that's how long! Well, he still had to wear a black cloth brace just in case but still. They truly cared for each other and Arthur should just let them be. The children should be allowed their fun, and he should too. But of course, he had to marry an argumentative prude.

"But..F-Fine. We'll go out." Arthur glowered, turning away. He supposed he didn't really have anything to fear. They had been dating for a long while and nothing had happened...Perhaps Ivan was just an odd child, and in fact no danger to his baby. He chewed at his lip.

"Finally! We shall go out on a nice dinner, we'll walk through the gardens and kiss in the moonlight. Oh, how romantic." The Frenchman prattled on trying to get his lover to spin in the moment. Of course, he refused him, staying stubbornly in place.

Arthur snorted, dragging his husband back upstairs so they could change into some nicer clothes. Giving one last glance toward his son and his boyfriend. Nothing would happen. He'd feel better if Matthew was also here, but the boy was over at the Beilschmidt's for the night. He didn't like that very much either. But, at least he knew that Gilbert would never hurt his little Matthew.

He could never say the same with the Russian.

He wished he could just kick the boy out, but he had promised Toris he could stay. The nervous man had left yesterday for Europe, and it wouldn't be good to make the teen leave only a day into his stay. He'd just have to watch them closely.

"Arthur?" Francis' voice brought him back from his thoughts. He looked up to see him wearing a new button down shirt, the tie around his neck hanging there.

"What?" The Englishman snapped, ignoring how his cheeks felt hotter. He decided to cover it up with annoyance. "Can't you tie a simple tie correctly? Stupid frog." He muttered, taking the two ends and tying them with jerky movements, perhaps a smidge too tight.

Francis blinked his blue eyes before letting out a light laugh at his lover's antics. The Brit tightened it further, and Francis let out a slight choking noise. He placed his hand on his husband's, stopping him while using his other to loosen the garment.

"Do not be like that." He scolded playfully, kissing him chastely, "You must dress too you know? Or do you wish me to do it for you?" He smirked suggestively, enjoying how the others face flamed up. Much to his disappointment, the Brit turned around.

"I can do it myself!"

Francis let out a sigh but did not press the issue. He didn't want Arthur angry before they even left the house. So, he waited patiently as the other dressed, sneaking glances of course. He couldn't help it; Arthur was quite deliciously handsome. Finally, once he'd finished they descended down the stairs toward the family room where Alfred was.

The American whined when his father stood in front of him, blocking his view of the movie. How rude! His dad gave him the look, the one that meant he better stop else, and he quickly grappled for the remote to pause the film.

"We're going out tonight. Behave yourselves." Arthur informed sternly.

"Shouldn't I be telling you guys to behave yourselves?" Alfred retorted, only succeeding in intensifying the glare. He quieted, he didn't want to fight. They'd continued to try to act their best but it was still hard. There were days he wanted to scream at his father and shut himself up in his room. Nevertheless, he tried his best not to and for his part, his father hadn't yelled as often.

"Alfred." The elder man warned.

"Yes. Yes. I know. We'll be real good, I promise!" The young teen gave him grin, hoping he would leave so they could finish the movie. It was almost done! And then they'd watch one more, Ivan's choice.

Arthur snorted, but finally allowed his husband to tug him out of the room and out the door. He better behave himself.

"Gillie!" Feliciano called up the stairs after having opened the door, "Mattie is here!"

Gilbert sat up in his bed at the sound, snapping his phone shut. The phone he had been staring at for a long time. He stuffed the piece of paper in his other hand under his pillow quickly before standing up. Just in time too, because not a second later his cute boyfriend opened the door.

"Hey Gil." Matthew greeted, letting out a light laugh when he was almost knocked down by the sudden hug he was encompassed in.

"I missed you Matt!" Gilbert grinned, kissing him chastely before pulling away.

"Missed me? I saw you yesterday at school." Matthew insisted. It was only Saturday and he'd be staying over night. The albino was so spoiled. He had the urge to pinch his cheeks but refrained.

"'Course I missed you! And I know you're trying to be strong and act like you didn't miss my awesome self. It's ok though. I understand. I mean, who could not miss this awesomeness?"

Matthew rolled his eyes, trying to hide the small smile that shown on his face. "So when's dinner?"

"Soonish." The Prussian answered with a shrug. Hopefully, at least because he was starving. Worrying always made him hungry.

"Should I ask what we're having?" The younger twin asked, already know the answer.

"Feli is cooking." Gilbert informed, helpfully. Matthew tried not to laugh, giving a small nod. So pasta it was.

"Ivan! You did this on purpose!" Alfred accused, lifting his head slightly from where it was hiding in the others broader chest. Ivan let out a giggle, holding his boyfriend closer to him.

"Perhaps." He responded, glancing onto the screen where the possessed man was hacking a girl to bits. Every scream she made had Alfred trembling in fright even though he wasn't watching the film anymore.

"Damn it, Ivan!" He muttered, closing his eyes tightly and hoping the movie ended soon. Never. Ever. Let Ivan choose the next movie. The asshole would just use it against him.

"Oh Alfred, it is just a movie." He knew it was cruel but he loved it when Alfred was so clingy and desperate. It was just so adorable. And he was oh so warm against him.

The American sent him a glare, though his pouty lips lessened the effect. In fact, all Ivan could do was kiss them. Alfred debated on fighting but decided kissing was a wonderful distraction from the screams in the background. Soon, Ivan slipped in his tongue and before Alfred could even realize he was on his back on the couch with his shirt being stripped off. No, it was completely off, thrown to the ground carelessly so the gloved hands could return to touch him.

"H-hey!" Alfred protested, making the taller pause and give him a quizzical look. "This isn't comfortable. Let's go to my room." He continued, letting a smirk dance upon his face. Ivan blinked before smirking himself, quickly getting up.

"Wait! Carry me. I'm tired." The American ordered, holding out his hands with his best puppy dog expression. Ivan rolled his eyes, lifting him up with little protest.

"You are lazy." He corrected, taking him up the steps as Alfred attacked his neck. Which was in itself quite distracting. Why was Alfred's bedroom so far away? He took in a sharp breath when Alfred bit him. Not enough to draw blood, though. It was an unspoken rule between them. No blood. Never any blood, lest he lose himself.

Finally, they stumbled into the American's bedroom and Ivan dropped his charge onto the bed with little ceremony. Alfred grumbled, giving him a pout.

"If you had not been lazy, I would have been gentler." Ivan shrugged, crawling onto the bed as well. Alfred rolled his eyes, choosing not to press the issue and instead tugged at his boyfriend's shirt. His was already off so it wasn't fair. Ivan pulled his hands away, ignoring the annoyed whine. Instead, he unwrapped his scarf gently, folding it carefully and setting it aside. He didn't want it dirtied.

He returned to the whiner, kissing him to make him stop complaining. He let the other disrobe him of his shirt, using his own hands to run down Alfred's bare chest. He delighted in every shiver he incited, every slight tremble and hitch in breath.

He broke the kiss, making his way down the others chest until he reached his pants. He stripped them off hurriedly, looking for the prize beneath. He paused though, before he could get too carried away, looking up at his boyfriend with a silent question of, "How far do you wish to go?"

Alfred pulled him up, kissing him deeply while holding his face in his hands, "All the way, Ivan." Ivan blinked, eyes widening and before he could even ask, "Are you sure?" Alfred had silence his words with his lips. Pulling away and with a grin he assured, "Damn straight I'm sure."

"...Francis why were you so adamant about having a date night tonight?" Arthur asked suddenly, after the waiter had left with their orders. "It's not our anniversary, it's not Valentines day, it's neither of our birthdays..."

"Must I need an excuse to take my husband out?" The Frenchman pouted in response, only receiving a roll of the eyes.

"You're up to something...I know it." Arthur snapped, drinking some of his wine. And if it was Francis it meant that it had something to do with sex...Perhaps if he got drunk enough he wouldn't have—No. He needed his wits about him to have a better chance at fighting of the wino.

"So distrusting, and after 16 odd years. You are so cruel to me.." Francis sighed sadly, though the playful smirk teasing at his lips ruined the pitying air about him.

"Belt up and tell me what you're doing." The Brit demanded, quietly of course. He didn't want to cause a scene.

"Nothing! I simply wanted to have dinner with you." He replied innocently, perking up when the food was brought in. Nevertheless, Arthur kept his legs tightly closed. He still remembered that awful date where Francis had molested him the entire time in public under the table only to leave him hanging the rest of the night. He could be such a conniving bastard of a frog. He was definitely plotting something.

They ate their meal, Francis doing most of the talking and Arthur arguing every now and then. Nothing serious, just the typical bickering that characterized their entire relationship.

They paid and left, walking down the warm streets hand in hand.. It was getting late and Arthur was beginning to worry about Alfred being home alone with the Russian. "We'll go home in a minute! We're almost at our car, but first I want to check something at the bakery..." Francis assured, speeding his steps slightly as said bakery came into view.

"Why? It's closed. Can't it wait until morning?" Arthur asked, though it wouldn't really be a problem. They had parked just in front of it. He supposed they could step in for a moment.

"I think I may have left my wallet in there..." Francis continued, unlocking the door with his key and stepping inside.

Arthur let out a sigh, walking in beside him, "Always so forgetful. Alright, turn on the lights. It's probably on the counter anyway." He heard the door click shut and froze. Wait a minute. Francis had paid for dinner. Had used the money in his wallet to do so. He had his wallet. He couldn't have left it here—.

"Oh hon hon hon. Mon amour, you fell for that?" Francis chuckled by his ear, suddenly pulling his arms behind him and snapping them shut with handcuffs.

"Francis! Fuck, I knew it! Unhand me this instant! And let me go!" Arthur shouted, tugging at his new found restraints. Why had he let his guard down? How could he have been so stupid?

"Calm down." Francis soothed, nibbling at his ear as his hands slid down to grope the Englishman's ass. He loved the hitch in breath it got him. "I have worked so hard on this! I do hope you enjoy."

"F-Francis! I am not in the mood! Take me home now!" Arthur continued undeterred, thrashing about.

"I will take you Arthur..."The Frenchman grinned nudging the Brit forward. "Now come along, the surprise is downstairs. In the basement."

"Hey Matt, let's watch a movie." Gilbert said suddenly, as they walked back up to his room. Dinner had been delicious, of course. Feliciano really was amazing with pasta. Each time was a whole new flavorful experience. Matthew had no idea how he did it.

"Sure. Go find a movie, I'll set up your T.V." Matthew agreed, continuing to his boyfriend's room while Gilbert ran back downstairs to search for some films. The younger twin entered the slightly messy room and turned the T.V. on. Gilbert didn't have a DVD player, but he did have a PlayStation. With practiced ease, the blond set up the gaming system.

Now he had to wait. He plopped down onto the bed, trying to get comfortable. He rearranged the covers and the pillows—.

He paused, picking up a torn piece of paper. Hastily written upon it was a ten digit numbers. A phone number. But whose? Could it be...

"I wasn't sure which awesome movie you wanted to see so I brought five up to choo—What are you doing?" Gilbert walked in casually, looking up only to freeze. He dropped the movies, rushing up onto the bed to snatch the paper back.

"Gil whose number is that?" Matthew questioned, trying to get to the paper again.
"No ones!" The Prussian snapped, making sure to keep the scrap out of reach.

"It's her's isn't it!" Gilbert turned away, not denying the statement. Matthew grit his teeth, turning the albino around with difficulty. "Did you call her!"
"No! Not yet!" He replied, crossing his arms and looking away.

"You can't call her, Gil!" The younger twin insisted, attempting to get his lover to look him in the eye.

"And why the hell not!" Gilbert shouted back, turning to look at him fiercely.

"You're only going to get hurt!"

"I need to know! I want to know if she remembers me, if she ever thought of me..."

"And what if she didn't?" Matthew pleaded. This would only end in heartbreak. He knew it.

"I need to know, Matt!"

"And what if she does want to come back into your life?"

"What's wrong with that!"

"What about Feli!"

Gilbert went dead silent. He hadn't even thought of Feli, or his father for that matter. How they would feel about this. If she came back...would Feliciano feel unwanted? He didn't want that. He loved Feli; he was so close to him, sometimes it felt he was closer to him than his actual father. He didn't know what to do anymore.

"Woah! Hold up!" Alfred stopped, pushing Ivan away from him. The elder teen blinked, turning the bottle of lube right side up again. He had been about to pour its contents on his fingers to begin the preparation when he had been stopped.

"Who said you were topping?" The American snapped, snatching the bottle from the other. Ivan tilted his head, before erupting into a fit of giggles. It only made the American's pout deepen.

"You are so cute Alfred! Of course I am topping, now give me the lube." He replied cheerily, trying to quiet his giggles. Alfred glared at him but Ivan paid him no heed. That is, until Alfred gripped his shoulders, flipping them over so that now Alfred hovered on top of the Russian.

"I can top! And I will top!" Alfred growled, even though the blush on his face ruined the threat he was trying to go for. Ivan stopped giggling when their positions flipped, looking up into the narrowed blue eyes.

"The joke was funny at first, little American. I shall top tonight." He flipped them back again, moaning slightly when their cocks brushed against each other. They were both naked by this point. And if he hadn't been interrupted, he could have already been sheathed into that tight heat.

"And why is that?" Alfred spat, resisting the urge to buck up into that sinfully teasing touch. He would lose it, and lose the argument.

"I am bigger."

Alfred's blushed even more, biting his lip. So what if the Russian was bigger! He wasn't small! The Russia was just huge and stupid and this wasn't fair! In fact, he said just that, "That's not fair!"

"Oh do stop whining." Ivan sighed, kissing him chastely. "If I let you be on top, you will stop complaining, da?"

Alfred blinked his teary blue eyes, "Yes!" He agreed, nodding his head vigorously. He heard another sigh before they were flipped once more, regaining his perch above the Russian.

"Happy? You are on top. Now let me prepare you." Ivan motioned for the lube bottle in Alfred's hands. The American stared at him, confused.

"But I'm topping! You said so yourself." He mumbled, tilting his head. Ivan took the lube bottle back the grip around it had gone slack from confusion.

He sat up slightly, "Nyet, I said you could be on top. But I will be doing the topping. Compromises are fun, da?" Ivan smiled up at the flabbergasted American. Alfred opened his mouth to protest but Ivan silenced him with a finger. "Ah, Alfred but you already agreed. So, this will be the arrangement."

"You suck." The American frowned, biting the finger lightly to voice out his dislike over the 'arrangement', "But I top next time, right?"

"We shall see." Was Ivan's only answer as he slipped his hand down Alfred's back, prodding his freshly lubed fingers at the boy's entrance. The blond didn't like that answer one bit, but all his arguments failed him once one of those large fingers slipped in.

"Fuck. Ivan." Alfred groaned, wrapping his arms around the others neck. Ivan smirked as he worked his fingers, slipping in a second one. He loved the noise Alfred was making, and the position was wonderful because Alfred's mouth was so close to his ear. He didn't miss any of the delicious sounds. Whenever the teen attempted to muffle himself in his shoulder, Ivan would prod him none to gently, making the American straighten up and keen.

"I-Ivan." Alfred hissed, pulling away so he could look at the others concentrated face. "I'm-ah-ready! Just do it already!"

Ivan pouted, "It is our first time...You are not making this romantic."

Alfred reddened further, breathing heavily as those three sinful fingers continued to thrust into him. "Ngh, wh-what do you want me to say when I've got three-ah-fingers up my ass-Ah! Ivan!" He cried out, clinging tightly onto the others shoulder and grinding onto those fingers. How dare he assault his prostrate while he was speaking? It wasn't fair! None of this was fair! Damn the Russian.

Ivan turned the blond's head with his other hand, locking lips with his boyfriend in apology. His other hand worked to spread the American further because, well, he was big.

"Ivan." Alfred breathed, pulling from the kiss, "Please, I need you." He tried, staring up at the pale teen with eyes at half mast and lips parted to allow heavy breathing. His face was flushed and he looked absolutely delicious.

"Da."

"Francis! What the hell did you do to the basement!" Arthur squawked as a light illuminated the small room. There was a cold steel table at the center of a room, a cupboard filled with god-knows-what, a sink and counter, and a mirror. On one wall, taped up in a collage were all the pictures the Frenchman had taken of him over the past decade or so. This was unacceptable. This was the bakery people frequented! Sure it was only one part of the basement but still!

"Arthur. We haven't done anything fun in a while because the children complain of the noise." Francis began, pushing the trapped man toward the table. "So, I renovated the small storage room here! I decided to go with creepy stalker motif." He continued motioning toward the wall of pictures.

"You took me out to dinner to trick me into role playing with you?" Arthur asked incredulously, turning around to face his mad lover. If he had just asked like a normal person he would have said yes. Well, it would have depend on his mood actually, "We've role played before, why didn't you approach it like before!"

"Atmosphere cher. Now, remember the safety word is scones." The longer haired blond prattled on cheerily, going over to the cupboard to dig through for a few things. Ooh, this was going to be so much fun. He could not wait to have his Englishman writhing on the table...

"I never said I would agree to any of this!" The Brit retorted, turning himself around to face the Frenchman again. He would have wrung his neck already if he could. Stupid handcuffs.

"Get on the table." Francis ordered, coldly. Arthur stiffened, before realizing Francis had already slipped into his character. He swallowed a lump in his throat. Ok, so Francis was acting as a stalker who'd kidnapped him into this...this place. How should he act? Probably scared.

"I said. Get on the table!"

Arthur jumped, managing to lift a leg onto the table top and haul himself up. He watched nervously as Francis came toward him, a smile on his face.

"How are you, darling?" He asked sweetly, cupping his face. Arthur pulled away.

"G-Get away! Let me go!"

Francis frowned, reaching up and taking a hold of his blond hair non to gently. He pulled him down, smiling as Arthur hissed in pain, "But darling...I've been wanting you for so very long. We haven't even started to play!" Arthur shivered, he could already feel himself beginning to get hard. He suppose this surprise wasn't that bad...

"You should talk to your dad and Feli before you do anything, Gil." Matthew continued, softer and more compassionate then before. They were sitting side by side now and the pair had calmed down.

"West doesn't want to talk about it." Gilbert muttered, "He's so unawesome. Everything's been unawesome lately. I want to know if she even gives a shit about me. If she regrets not killing me."

"Gil! Don't say things like that!" Matthew snapped desperately, hugging his boyfriend tightly. He didn't know what he would do if Gilbert died or didn't exist. He loved him so much. He hated it when he was like this, he wanted carefree Gilbert.

"D-Do you remember Gilbird?" The Prussian said quietly, looking down.

"Your little yellow chick? Of course!" Matthew placed a head on his shoulder waiting for the other to continue.

"You know what happened to it?" The albino spoke softly, never lifting his gaze from the bed.

"Didn't it just fly away?"

"No... I made it leave."

"What? But you loved Gilbird." Matthew protested, lifting his head up to look try and peer into those red eyes. He wanted to know what he was thinking, what was going through his mind. Only so he could find a way to help.

"Yeah, well. Apparently, she loved little chicks too. And when I found out, I got so angry. I-I yelled at him, I pushed him away and I stopped giving him food until he finally flew away."

"Gil.."
"I miss that fucking bird every day. I can't believe I did that. I...It was her. It's always fucking her. And..and if she just thought of me once in her damn life it make me feel better. I..I'm not making sense. Just—Fuck. This is so not awesome."

"Gil. Gil I love you. Feli loves you. Your dad loves you. Hell my family loves you in their own way. Don't let her ruin what you have, because you have so much, Gil." Matthew pleaded. He wanted him to smile. He wanted him to be happy.

"And what the fuck do I have?" Gilbert muttered, finally looking over at his boyfriend.

"You have me. All of me."

"Oh God Ivan!" Alfred screamed, kissing the other violently as he rode him. Ivan was just so-God he didn't even know how to explain. It was just, amazing. How it felt to have him inside him, the feeling of his hand on his cock, the way his tongue battled his own; all of it was just amazing.

He'd heard enough about sex from his Papa to be acknowledged as an expert on the subject. But this, he'd never imagined it to be like this. Sure, he'd experimented a few times just to see but never with an actual person. And Ivan was ten times better than anything else he'd tried. Hands down.

"Alfred." Ivan murmured against those lips, gripping his hips tighter. Oh this was much better than he had ever thought. Alfred was so very warm around him. It was wonderful.

"I-Ivan, I-I" Alfred groaned, hugging him tighter.

"Yes?" Ivan probed, slowing down his thrusts to allow Alfred to speak.

"I-I love you..." The American mumbled, shifting on the others lap in an effort to get him to move again. But, Ivan had stopped completely, only holding him tightly to his chest. "Ivan." The teen whined, wanting him to thrust into him again. He was so fucking close and it wasn't like he had never said those words before. He'd confessed before.

Suddenly he was flipped again, landing on his back with a yelp. He looked up at Ivan who was smirking so giddily. "I love you too, my little American." He whispered, causing his 'little American' to stick out his tongue in childish protest. He wasn't little!

Ivan only chuckled, capturing those lips once more. Only months ago had Alfred fought back vehemently, and now, he kissed back just as eagerly. He had wished for the day they would consummate their relationship and it had finally come. And it was better than anything he could have hoped.

The Russian resumed his thrusts, preferring this position due to his newfound ability to watch his lover's face contort in pleasure. It was one of the most beautiful sights he had ever seen and all he wanted was to swallow up every moan and keen with his greedy lips.

Alfred came first with a shout (he never could be quiet) clinging to the broader teen desperately. A few more thrusts and Ivan finished as well, trying his best not to collapse onto the other. Alfred hugged him close, wanting to cuddle like always. Ivan happily obliged, curling around his lover and basking in his lovely warmth. Soon they were drifting off into peaceful nightmare free sleep.

Ivan could certainly get used to this.

Arthur groaned, fumbling with the door as Francis continued kissing down his neck. Did the Frenchman ever get tired? They'd gone enough rounds at the bakery! He wouldn't be able to walk for weeks if this continued. It was a marvel he could even do so now.

"F-Francis let's get inside first!" He snapped, elbowing the man away so that he could finally manage to get the door open. The pair staggered inside, breathing a sigh of relief when they they figured the teens must have gone to bed already. Arthur thought he was in the clear to finally go to bed when he was again attacked by the frog.

"One more Arthur. Just one more." Francis murmured against his ear, running his fingers along his body. Arthur really had no choice but to go along with him, kissing the man again as they stumbled along the room. Shouldn't they be going upstairs?

Arthur let out a surprised yelp when his foot slipped on something that certainly wasn't hardwood. Luckily, Francis held him upright, never slowing in his kiss. The Brit pulled away, glaring at his husband before bending down (careful not to show his arse to the Frenchman because then it would be all over again) to pick up the offending item. It was a shirt. It was Alfred's shirt. The shirt he'd been wearing. Thrown carelessly on the ground as if—

"I'm going to kill him." The Englishman seethed, pushing Francis away to stomp up the stairs.

"Arthur! Arthur be reasonable!" The Frenchman called back, realizing what his lover had meant. He hurried after him, hoping he could stop things before it all blew up.

Dun dun dunnnn

Sorry, X)

Anyways~ I fail at smexy scenes so I apologize for all that crap you had to suffer reading this. Orz

Next chapter, well...Let's just say the shit sort of hits the fan...

And Alfred does something quite drastic~

Perhaps I've said too much.

I hope everyone had a happy Canada Day (if you remembered) and have an awesome 4th of July! And for those who don't celebrate the 4th of July...Well, you should anyway. Blow some shit up and eat some hot dogs/burgers on the grill :D

Alright, review my lovelies HOLY SHIT WE ARE ALMOST THERE /hyperventilates and dies

See you next week~