More fluffy stuffs. X3

Warning: Angst, lemon (like some legit smut), oral, fluff, GerIta, TurCan, FrUK, and RusAme.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA. I have fun manipulating their characters, though

Don't Wake Me Up

Feliciano couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the possessed Arthur lashing out at him, or flames engulfing him, killing him. Whimpering, he crawled over to Ludwig, who was sound asleep across the tent and shook his shoulder.

"Ludwig… L-Ludwig… wake up, ve."

Ludwig flinched and opened his eyes. He turned over to see Feliciano leaning over him looking like he was about to cry.

"What is it, Feli?"

Feliciano burst into tears. "I'm so s-scared! I can't sleep." He dissolved to sobs.

"Oh, Feli…" Ludwig gave a withering sigh, pulled the Italian's hands from his face, and lifted his chin so that they met eyes. "Everything is okay now. Nothing will get us."

"But they will!" Feliciano cried. "They always will, and we won't know until they're right behind us, ve!"

"Nein, they won't." He took Feliciano's hands in his and rubbed his thumbs over the trembling knuckles. "Not as long as I'm here." Feliciano kept crying, and Ludwig said without fully meaning to, "You want to know why I would protect you from anything?" He was uneasy about where this was going, nervous… but he couldn't stand waiting anymore. He had to initiate something or else Feliciano would never get it and they might never have what Ludwig wanted them to have for so long.

Feliciano looked up and sniffled. "W-what, Ludwig?"

This was his chance. He took hold of Feliciano's upper arm and pulled him in so that their lips met. Feliciano's eyes went wide and he squirmed a bit before they parted.

"L-Ludwig?" He was looking at him like a lost puppy.

"You're such a dummkopf," Ludwig sighed, looking away. "I love you, Feli. I have for so long. Why haven't you seen that?"

Feliciano blinked at him. "I… I have."

Ludwig was shocked, then furious. He grabbed Feliciano by both shoulders and shook him. "Well why didn't you ever say anything?"

"I was scared!" Feliciano began to cry again. "I-I didn't want our friendship to be ruined if we didn't work out… I'm sorry, ve."

Ludwig took Feliciano into his arms and crushed him to his chest. "Why would you think that I would hate you if it didn't work? I'll always be your friend, Feli, but I need something more." He licked his lips, his mouth going a little dry, as he added, "Will you take this chance with me?"

Feliciano went silent for a moment, his face buried in Ludwig's shoulder. Then he moved back enough to kiss the German. The act caught Ludwig off guard.

"Si," Feliciano said. "I will. I love you too, Ludwig."

Ludwig smiled and kissed him back, their fingers lacing. When they parted, Feliciano blushing cutely, Ludwig said, "So, do you think you will be able to sleep now?"

Feliciano shook his head, and Ludwig frowned. "No… I want to sleep with you."

Ludwig lifted his sleeping bag, pleasantly surprised at the request. "Get in, then."

Feliciano smiled and slid into the bag. When he was settled, Ludwig followed suit. A strong arm closed around the Italian, and a chest pressed against his back. Feliciano sighed happily.

Ludwig kissed him on his cheek and murmured, "Goodnight, meine liebe."

But Feliciano was already sound asleep.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine," Sadiq insisted. He was a little battered and bruised but other than that he was perfectly healthy. Well, maybe his ankle was a little sorer than before, but the splint had been fixed and it was all good now.

Matthew shook his head. "Today was hell."

Sadiq smiled. "Well… except for us."

Matthew looked up at him and mirrored his expression, though a light dusting of pink coated his cheeks. "Yeah…"

Awkward silence.

"I'm sorry I let those men touch you." Sadiq hadn't gotten the chance to throttle them all before Seth had wrestled him to the ground, and now he was sorely wishing he had the chance to feel his hands wrapped around their throats.

"It wasn't your fault."

"I kissed you… I distracted you. I should have chosen another time—"

"Didn't we already talk about this when we were tied up?"

Sadiq stopped and pulled his hood further over his eyes. "Want to try that kiss again?"

Matthew grabbed his hand. "I don't think we need to try."

This time Sadiq drew Matthew in and pressed their lips together. Matthew stiffened, but eventually responded in kind, his arms going around Sadiq's neck, pulling at his hood.

Sadiq pulled back. "I don't think… I'm ready for that just yet."

"For what?" Matthew asked breathlessly. His blush was so cute.

"My face," Sadiq said, knowing it sounded stupid. "I've never let anyone see it." Except for Greece… Sadiq thought, his mind going back to the night they had first made love and he had let Heracles see him. It was some of the best sex he'd ever had—and the longest relationship, too. His throat became scratchy as he remembered and he struggled to keep his composure.

"Oh," Matthew said, a little disappointed and it showed. "What do I have to do?"

"Stay with me," Sadiq replied. "It will happen, but we have to be sure we love each other. What happened today between us… it was so sudden." Jeez, I can't believe me of all people is wanting to take it slow. But, honestly, it was Matthew. And Matthew deserved a loving relationship, not a rushed fuck. Now especially was not the time to make any mistakes. They couldn't afford to.

Matthew blinked, not expecting Sadiq to be so… considerate. His blush deepened, and he could feel it burning on his face. "O-okay… it probably wouldn't be a good idea to go all the way anyway with your ankle and my knee."

Sadiq chuckled. "Damn straight," He kissed Matthew again. "I want you to do it when I happens… unmask me, I mean." Dammit, I'm blushing aren't I? Good thing this hood is up…

Matthew smiled. "You're so cheesy."

Sadiq huffed and ducked his head. "I know…" Heracles said the same thing…

"I just have to get over the fact that you're Turkey and then it would be sweet."

Sadiq glared through his hood at him. "You're a jerk."

"Not a trait that people expect from me, but yeah." Matthew's hands dipped to pull up Sadiq's pullover.

Sadiq stiffened. "What the hell are you doing?"

Mathew gave him an innocent look. "I figured that if I can't see your face, I could at least see the rest of you."

Sadiq hadn't been expecting that. "But… you'll see my face if you take this off."

Matthew huffed and rolled his eyes. "Fine. If it means that much to you…" He let go of Sadiq and pulled his own shirt over his head. He hooked his thumbs into his jeans and pushed down.

Sadiq blinked, forcing down his arousal, though it was certainly hard when seeing Matthew's flushed, unmarked body. It could do with some marks—bite marks, specifically. "Mattie… I thought we agreed—"

"Oh, don't get all fussy. I'm not going to have sex with you." Matthew's face was a perpetual red now, though his voice was completely calm. He knew how to appeal to others—Francis had taught him that. He tossed his shirt and pants in a pile beside them. "I want to feel you. Please?" Sadiq was about to say no, but then Matthew discarded his underwear and was sitting, naked and pleading, before him.

Sadiq swallowed. "All right. Turn around."

Matthew did so, and Sadiq got a good look at the Canadian's ass. Matthew's hair wasn't the only thing he got from Francis, that was for certain. When Sadiq was nude and settled in the sleeping bag, he covered his face with his hand and said, "Okay, get in and don't look."

Matthew turned around and laughed. "You are so stupid."

Sadiq would have countered that claim if it weren't for Matthew's hands trailing down his muscled torso.

"Wow," Matthew said. The man was gorgeous! Holy fuck, he's a god. "Now I really can't wait to see your face." And have you fuck me. Oh God...

"Patience," Sadiq chided with a smile, grabbing Matthew's shirt and throwing it over his eyes. He welcomed Matthew into his arms, and when their skin touched he felt something spark.

Matthew laid his head on Sadiq's broad chest and ran his fingers down his skin. Sadiq shivered. "Should have tried this earlier," Matthew said with a content sigh.

Sadiq shrugged and wrapped an arm around Matthew's shoulder. "I wouldn't have minded." He was silent for a moment before adding, "You're beautiful." Damn sappy tendencies…

Matthew hummed happily. "I thought you didn't want any sex tonight?"

"I don't."

"Then stop making me want it," Matthew said cheekily, kissing him again. He slipped his tongue into Sadiq's mouth and moaned when the Turk reached up to cup the back of his head. Then Sadiq remembered and pushed Matthew away. Matthew looked down at him, distraught. It really was hard after seeing Sadiq's naked body—oh God, he shouldn't have suggested they strip. Another stupid thing Francis had ingrained in his head. But he managed to keep himself from straddling the older man and riding him like no tomorrow (because he really hadn't had any in a while) by looking at Sadiq's face—which was hidden by his shirt draped over his nose and up. It certainly was a weird sight.

"Let's sleep," Sadiq suggested, and Matthew settled down against him. The warmth a body provided when next to his own was something he had missed for so long. Too long.

Tears came to his eyes. Oh, Carlos…

How could he have forgotten about him so easily? Was he that much of a whore?

Sadiq's breathing deepened and Matthew could hear the steady beating of his heart from where his ear lay against his chest.

I love him so much already. Sadiq seemed like he really cared. He wanted to go slow for him—just for him. And Matthew wanted to make this work, but he would have to let go of Cuba to do it. He didn't realize how hard it would be.

Goodbye, Carlos.

And he cried.

Arthur studied his hand which was wrapped in gauze. Beside him, Francis finished wrapping the other.

"They look so painful," Francis observed, looking at him worriedly.

"I've experienced worse," Arthur replied, though he was half lying. Magical wounds were significantly worse than normal wounds and since he was mortal now it was even more painful. It hurt to move his fingers, his palms were so burned from expelling the fire. I went too far, he thought with concern. I never go too far. It scared him how reckless he had been. And if he was the same the next time he used magic, there would be no one to bring him back from the void. "Don't worry about it."

"You don't have to hide your pain from me anymore, amour," Francis told him. "We are no longer rivals. We are lovers, and lovers tell each other what they are feeling."

Arthur scoffed. "I was never one for feelings anyway."

"Have you ever thought that that was the reason why you never had any friends?"

Arthur looked at him with a frown. "Lovers also aren't that blunt with each other."

Francis sighed in exasperation. "Then how else am I supposed to get to you?"

"Figure it out," Arthur growled through his teeth and turned his back to him, frustrated at himself, his horrible luck the past few days.

Francis huffed, hurt. "Why won't you talk to me, Arthur?"

"Because I don't want to."

"Then at least tell me why you feel this way."

Arthur sighed, looking at is hands again. "I feel so… useless. I couldn't lead—couldn't even defend myself from that bloody demon. Now look at me. I can't even move my hands. Might as well use me as dead weight, that's all I'm useful for."

"You're not useless—"

"We finally have something in common, frog," Arthur said. "We're both broken. In one way or another."

Francis stared at his lover's back for a moment before crawling over and putting a hand on Arthur's shoulder. "Please look at me, cher."

Arthur didn't move for a second, and then he turned around, looking up at him with blank green eyes. It scared Francis who had only ever seen that domineering fire behind them.

"We are only ever broken when we do not try," he told Arthur, running a hand through the Briton's messy locks. "Have you already given up?" When Arthur didn't answer, Francis raised his voice, almost frantic. He couldn't lose Arthur. They were too close to break now. "You can't give up. It's not fair. I could have just given up when those men had me, but I ran. I looked for you. You found me. It's not fair to the group. I saw how Alfred reacted when he thought you died. He loves you more than you know, Arthur, and you can't let that happen to him again. It's so cruel!" Francis shook his head and lowered his gaze. "You would just leave me so easily…"

Arthur sat there quiet for a moment, then he took Francis's face in his hands and kissed him. Francis gave a surprised grunt.

When they parted, Arthur said, "When have you known me to give up at anything?"

Francis smiled. "Are you finally talking to me?"

"Maybe," Arthur said with a smirk. He pushed Francis down onto their sleeping bag and straddled him. "You're sexy when you're angry."

Did that really just come out of my mouth? Arthur fought down a blush as he undid Francis's pants. But he didn't care. He really wanted sex. Sex cured everything. Well, more like made him forget for a little while, but still.

Francis looked up at him and sighed. "What are you doing, cher?"

"What does it bloody look like? Picking daisies, if that pleases you."

Francis rolled his eyes and flipped them over. It happened so fast and unexpectedly that Arthur gave an embarrassing yelp. Then he was beneath Francis, a position that would have scared him shitless before, but what he now found strangely arousing.

Francis gazed down at him, his eyes hooded. "Allow me, amour~" he purred before undoing and pushing Arthur's pants down. His mouth found Arthur's half-hard cock and engulfed it. Francis wanted to talk about so much more—Arthur's near-death experience, the demon, the repercussions of magic, how Arthur had to be careful from now on. But he figured that was the last thing the Briton wanted to hear right now. And so he aimed to distract them both as best he could while also showing Arthur how much he meant to him.

I love you. Francis thought. I don't want to lose you. Not again. Not ever.

Arthur gasped and buried his fingers in Francis's hair. "Oh, Francis~"

Both their minds ran away with the pleasure.

As soon as they were finished with their meager meal, Alfred and Ivan were in their tent, Alfred sitting on Ivan's lap, kissing like their lives depended on it. They only parted for breath for as long as it took to fill their lungs with air, and then they were liplocked again.

Alfred pulled back again, panting, Ivan's lips trailing down to his neck and ravaging it thoroughly. "God, I shouldn't want this. Not now."

Ivan didn't say anything, only captured his lips again and slipped a tongue in. Alfred moaned and met Ivan with enthusiasm… only then to separate. "Artie almost… h-he coulda—"

"Don't think about that," Ivan told him, their eyes locking.

He's so beautiful. Alfred mused, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. Damn, I'm falling apart. He knew he ought to be worried about Arthur's welfare and anything but sex… but ever since that kiss they had shared after all the chaos had unfolded, the way Ivan had touched him, and now that he seemed so eager to love him, why not allow it?

And so Alfred let himself go, submitting to Ivan's every touch and kiss which sent shocks of electricity through his body. He wrapped his arms around Ivan's neck and that was enough permission for the Russian to flip them over so that Alfred lay beneath him. Alfred was clinging to Ivan, as if he needed him to breathe. When they separated again, only long enough for Ivan to toss off his coat and pull Alfred's shirt over his head, Alfred was gazing up at him in obvious adoration. And Ivan knew then, he knew that all of the other hate-filled fucks they'd had in the past did not matter anymore. This time, they would do it right and not let pride get anywhere between them.

Ivan's lips returned to Alfred's neck, and Alfred moaned. He had been growing hotter and hotter ever since their late dinner and he could barely manage to keep himself from smashing his lips to Ivan's when the man had leaned over to ask how he was doing. As soon as they had retired for the night, Alfred had already been sporting a hard-on for a good half hour and they only just made it into their tent in time to avoid grinding before an audience. He was sure there had to be something going on. It was like he couldn't get enough of Ivan, as if he had just showed up after decades of separation and Alfred was absolutely dying for him.

"Y-you did something," he accused, hand pushing the back of Ivan's head further into his neck, moaning when he felt teeth brush over his skin.

Ivan giggled. "Da, I did."

"What did you, unh, do?"

The Russian pulled back to look down at him with a smile. "I had picked up your pack to move it when something fell out." Alfred stiffened below him and Ivan's smile widened. "I must say I was surprised that you would carry an aphrodisiac with you."

Alfred's face reddened. "I-it was from Francis—a prize for winning a bet, and y-you put it in my food?"

"Da," Ivan said, brushing a thumb over Alfred's nipple. "You need to relax, da? Now I can finally show you how much I—mmf."

Alfred seized his lips and pulled back, his eyes hooded, his voice breathless. "Stop talking," He wanted Ivan so badly right now. He didn't think he'd be able to be quiet enough for them not to be heard, not with Ivan's fingertips running over his skin and even that making him moan low in his throat.

Ivan smiled warmly and brushed the hair back from Alfred's eyes. He slowly slipped off the other man's glasses.

Alfred squirmed impatiently beneath him, looking for any friction he could get. "Ivan," he whined.

"Vanya," Ivan insisted as he slipped off Alfred's pants. "Call me Vanya."

Alfred sighed when his underwear was pulled down and off, exposing his throbbing hardness to the open air. "I've heard your sisters call you that," Alfred said as he watched Ivan dispose of the rest of his clothes and then they were both naked—except for Ivan's wrapped side. Matthew had tended to him after the shoot out with Organization members. "Always wanted to call you that. Couldn't though." Alfred couldn't keep his eyes from wandering to Ivan's wound, the bullet still imbedded inside. He felt so selfish for wanting this when it would hurt Ivan.

Ivan caught him looking and quickly said, "That's because pride controls everything you do and think."

Alfred shook his head, looking a little hurt. "No… no, I was afraid you would reject me."

Ivan blinked in surprise, feeling a little guilty. "I would not have," he assured, kissing Alfred's forehead. "Я люблю тебя."

Alfred knew those words. He hated the commie language, but he had urged himself to learn just these three words—in hopes that he would understand Ivan when he said them, because he hoped Ivan would someday say them to him: I love you.

Alfred's breath caught. "Vanya," Dammit, he was not gonna cry like some girl…

Okay, he was.

Sure, he had heard Ivan say it before, but it felt like it had been months since he'd said it, since they said it to each other. And so much had happened between then and now that it made Alfred cherish hearing those words even more.

"Alfred," Ivan said and captured his lover's lips.

Alfred didn't want to come across as desperate, but he couldn't stop himself from whimpering and pulling Ivan down to him so that their skin touched. He was shaking with arousal and he reached down, taking hold of Ivan's semi-hard cock and stroking it to full mast.

Ivan moaned and Alfred placed the head against his hole. "Please,"

Ivan looked worriedly down at him before lifting his fingers to brush across Alfred's lips. "Wet them," He knew how big he was and so did Alfred. They both knew it would hurt, and if Alfred was choosing to ignore that fact then Ivan would have to be the one to enforce precaution.

Alfred whined but took them into his mouth, knowing he would only waste more time complaining than doing. He made sure to lave the fingers thoroughly before Ivan took them back and nudged them against his entrance. Their locked eyes as Ivan pushed one in.

Alfred groaned and dug his fingers into Ivan's shoulders. "Oh~"

"Alfred," Ivan said again.

He worked in another finger and scissored him.

"Nng, uh…"

"Alfred,"

That name.

Three fingers were in him now, working him open at an agonizingly slow pace.

"Please, Vanya…"

"Alfred,"

What if his magic hadn't worked? What if he had been too slow? Would Alfred have died today? Would it have been his fault?

"Y-yes, Vanya, oh,"

He would have not been able to say Alfred's name like this again. He'd come so close to losing him; the idiot, he just walked right into trouble without thinking how devastated Ivan would be if he were to die.

"Vanya, now. I'm ready."

Then he would show Alfred.

Show him what he would be missing out on if he didn't think before he acted.

Ivan's fingers disappeared and were replaced with the head of his cock. Alfred spread his legs wide for him and wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him close.

"Do it, Vanya," he begged and Ivan obliged him. "Y-yes, Vanyaaah~" Oh, he hadn't felt this in a while. It hurt from lack of lubricant and months of being deprived, but just being filled was enough to override the pain.

Ivan watched as Alfred's back arched and the younger moaned his name. Soon he was settled all the way inside and Alfred was wriggling below him.

"Ahn, move, please,"

And he did.

Alfred clung to him and his legs wrapped around his waist. He truly had forgotten how big Ivan was… and how experienced Ivan was at finding his sweet spot. It was a wonder he had remembered after so long. He hit it after only a few thrusts and without any guidance, and Alfred gasped, "Yeah, there! More, m-more…"

"Alfred," Ivan attacked his neck, kissing, sucking, nipping.

The thrusts picked up and soon they were both moaning loudly, skin slapping. They were sure others could hear them, but they didn't care. Ivan had been waiting for this forever, and he wasn't going to stop even if his side was killing him. And Alfred was a shivering puddle of goo, incapable of anything but moaning and rolling his hips to Ivan's deep and calculated thrusts.

"V-Vanya, unh," Alfred was so close and delirious with arousal. Despite the chilling temperature outside their sleeping bag he was burning up from the inside out. His balls drew up, and he was crying out, nails leaving red trails on Ivan's pale skin. "Y-yes, Vanya, oh fuck!"

And he was coming between their bodies, hot and heavenly and oh-so needed. Ivan wasn't far behind, the tightness of Alfred something he hadn't felt in so long. He moaned Alfred's name into his neck as he filled him, adding to the warmth between them.

They took the time to catch their breaths and Ivan kissed Alfred again, pouring everything he'd said and all that he had yet to say into that kiss. It was enough for Alfred to want do it all over again. And again. And again. Damn, he was just horny.

Alfred rolled his hips, but Ivan pulled away and rolled over to lie beside him. "Nyet, I am tired and so are you. Maybe another time."

"Says you who's been wanting it this whole time," Alfred replied and clambered on top of him. He kissed a line down his jaw and ground down against him.

Ivan chuckled, trying to hold it in but it soon came out in a full-on giggle. Alfred looked down at him in confusion.

"Is there something I don't know about?"

"D-da," Ivan said, calming himself. "I lied."

Alfred felt his heart drop. "Lied about what?" Oh no, not now, you asshole. You were acting too sincere this time for me to just let it go… He could feel his throat getting scratchy already and, dammit, he didn't want to cry again. Please don't take it back. I've waited so long for you to say it…

"The aphrodisiac," Ivan said and Alfred's eyes widened. The Russian reached over to rummage through Alfred's bag and held the sack up to him. Alfred took it into his hand. It was just as full as when he had first gotten it from Francis.

"What… how…?"

"It was all you," Ivan smiled. "There are no tricks now, da? Just the real thing."

Alfred blushed and kissed him again—passionately. When they parted, Alfred's lips brushed Ivan's ear.

"I love you," he whispered. "I love you so much."

Ivan sighed and held him.

"I know, моя любовь."

Outside their tent, warm with passion, the first snowflake of the night alighted on the earth.

Translations:

dummkopf-fool

meine liebe-my love

моя любовь-my love

A Word From the Writer: Ack! All the lemon-y fragments before the actual lemon! Sorry, but I wanted to really focus on RusAme because America's mind has been a gigantic, cockblocking pain-in-the-ass, so it was about damn time they actually bonked. Look at Russia being all romantic. Y'all know Turkey's hawt, too. And, yay, everyone has officially paired up! Now the drama and the paranoia will get all the worse for you. I'm still gonna kill some of these characters off, so expect distraught lovers and such later on...

And, fuck, this weekend has been crap for me. My allergies are all like "Imma be a bitch now" and I feel like shit. Then on top of that, I has sick. I dunno what it is, but I've gone through a whole forest full of trees in the form of tissues and I just wanna lay down and stare at the ceiling cause that's all I feel like doing. But I had to go to the campus (a two hour car trip, thank God I chose not to go out of state) then it was raining and my dad has poison oak and bronchitis (yeah, at the same time) and my mom has my same sick (she gave it to me) and my little sister is all like "Haha, you're sick!" and I'm like "Fuck you," *coughs on her pillow when she's not looking* The only good part about it is, when I get sick I get angry at myself for getting sick. Like "Body, how could you? What did I ever do to you? You're supposed to stay healthy, you traitor!" and so everyone's avoiding me, which is good because that's how I like it anyway. I can upload in peace!

And I find it very convenient that I'm posting on the day of the return of The Walking Dead. Imma Skype with my zombie-crazy friend during the episode. And, as always, if Daryl dies, we riot.

As Mr. Dixon so eloquently puts it, "Shoot me again? You best pray I'm dead!"

Ah, I spoiled the fluffs. XD