I don't own Hetalia, because Hidekaz Himaruya does.

Two hours later, the whole cowlick thing was done. America was passed out in the guest room, too tired and embarrassed to do anything, and the three people who had helped him out were in the living room, failing to create an unawkward conversation.

"So..." Arthur began, "Alfred's cowlick is... That."

Allen nodded. "Yeah."

Silence. Then Oliver said, "You know, it's already nine. If you want to stay, we have another guest room."

"Sure."

Oliver stood up. "I'll show you where it is."

The two left, and not three minutes later Arthur decided to go to bed. He went up to his room and locked the door. He pulled his magic book out and moved the rug on the floor, then drew a pentagram on said wood floor. He lit some candles and put each one on each point of the star. He wrote himself a note and put it on his bed. What he was doing was for America's happiness- he was positive that when the loud American woke up he wouldn't like having people know about the event that happened. So if no one remembered, it was fine, right? Other than the fact that Allen would just appear in the house out of no where..

He pulled a black cloak over his outfit and began searching his book for a spell that would erase select memories from several people's minds.

'Erasing Memories', the text read. Arthur looked over it, then said in a clear voice,

"Ut ipsam memoriam,

Ab illis qui elegi

Oliver, Allen, Alfred,

et me,

ut lateret in perpetuum

venenatis id, nisi ad recipiendum illam."

Once more the feeling of magic being used on him surrounded Arthur, calming him. He felt the memory of that night begin to fade away, and before he knew it, he was in a cloak, next to a pentagram, with no memory of why he was there or what he was doing. He looked around frantically, until he spied a note on his bed. He walked over to it and read the cursive hand-writing. His writing.

'Dear Arthur,

This is you. You probably don't remember what happened tonight, or why you're standing in a magic circle. Well, something embarrassing happened to Alfred and I felt like being nice and erasing everyone's memories of the event. That's it. Don't worry.

Sincerly, Arthur'

Britain sighed, feeling very fortunate that it was just that. He crumpled up the piece of paper and threw it away, then drenched the candles and put them in his backpack. After that he pulled his rug over the pentagram, and sat down on his bed. Seriously, the things he did for America's happiness...

Meanwhile...

Allen looked around, then spied Oliver. How had he gotten there? And why was he so worn out? Seriously, it felt like he had just held someone down for hours.. Oliver looked just as confused as he felt.

On the other hand, they were both in a bedroom with a shut door. He grinned. 'This could get fun...'

The next morning, the 2ps in the Kirkland household woke up in a very messy bed. But that's beside the point.

Alfred woke up with every muscle in his body screaming, like he had put more strain on his muscles than he had ever before. A knock on his door made him realize that he did not want to get up. "Yeah? Come in!" he called.

The door opened to reveal... Arthur. "Twat, it's already two! Get up!"

"Awww... But I hurt..."

Arthur seemed genuinely curious. "Where?"

"Everywhere!"

"That's elaborate." Arthur snorted.

He walked over to the American and sat down on the edge of his bed. "Is there a specific area that hurts more than the rest?"

There was. But Alfred wasn't about to tell Arthur where. "No.."

"You're a horrible liar." England laughed.

"S-shut it."

"Ouch. Vicious, aren't you?"

"Quit laughing, dammit!"

"I'm not laughing.." England lied, covering his mouth with his hand.

"Jerk.." America whined.

"So where is it? And what did you do to get it to hurt?"

"I... Don't actually remember. Do you remember anything about last night? I can recall you throwing stuff at me, but you never hit me. Everything after that is black."

"Me, too. Maybe Oliver knows?"

"Let's go find out."

"Okay." Arthur began to walk out of the room, only to stop when Alfred called out his name.

"I need help getting up."

"What? Why?"

"I'm too sore to do anything by myself!"

"Wanker!"

"I do not!"

"How else would you get so sore when no one else is?!"

Silence. Then... "..Just help me up."

"Yeah, yeah." Britain smirked. He grabbed Alfred's arm and yanked him up, a tad harder than necessary.

"Ow! Arthur, that was cruel!"

"Suck it."

"No, thanks. You have a hamburger, instead?"

Britain whirled around and punched him in the face. "Twat, quit with the definitions!"

"But I'm a boy..." Alfred smirked, getting up like it was nothing.

"Anymore and you won't be!"

"Ouch!" America laughed, "That was a blow below the belt!"

"Idiot, we're here." he addressed Alfred, and knocked on Oliver's door. No answer. "That's wierd- he's normally up by now." He knocked again. No answer. "Oliver, we're coming in!" he called, then opened the door. No one was there.

They heard shuffling upstairs. Alfred pointed upstairs, then mouthed, 'Let's go.'

Arthur nodded. They silently went up, tracking the noise to one of the guest rooms. It sounded like two people were talking. Theives? Murdrers? Oliver-nappers (Author: Get it? Kidnappers, petnappers, Olivernappers? Hahahaha- I'll shut up now...)? In a way, it was an Olivernapper. One that had stolen his heart.

America readied his gun, which literally seemed to come out of nowhere, and threw the door open. He and Arthur went in, prepared for a fight, only to have their eyes want to commit suicide. The sight before them was like no other- Allen was on top of Oliver, who looked close to tears, with his arms wrapped around the American 2p. The two jumped apart and pulled the covers over themselves, blushing. "Arthur!" Oliver cried out, "Didn't I teach you manners- you knock first!"

The two 1ps stood there, dumbfounded. Then America asked, knowing the answer but hoping that it was just a huge misunderstanding, "What... Were you guys doing?"

Arthur left the room, unable to see any more. What the Hell?! He was worried that something bad had happened to his guardian when he was just fucking in the next room! Alfred left then, too, making sure to shut the door tightly. He caught up to Britain. They decided to get dressed and leave the house.

15 minutes later, they were on a walk, bundled up in clothes to keep them warm. "...I'll never get that image out of my mind.. What was he even doing there?"

Arthur figured he should be polite and ask even if he knew the answer. "... You know him?"

"Yeah... He's my brother! How the Hell did he get into you house?"

"..."

"That's a massive age difference...Your dad and my brother.."

"Yeah..."

Secretly they were both blushing harder than they let the other know- those were their 2ps! If they were fucking, obviously something was going on between them.. And 1p's wars didn't change because you were a 2p. If your 1p was fighting someone, the 2p was fighting, too. Did that count for emotions? They both hoped so. That meant that the other liked him back!

Vocabulary Time! :

Wanker- someone who masturbates

Twat- women's genitals