New chapter! Sorry for the delay. I was swamped with finals and exhausted from work, so this one took longer than expected. But, since I have no class during the summer, I should be able to write these much faster now!

Anyway, nothing too explicit this chapter, just some non-consensual touching.

Things only got worse as more nations entered the room to start the meeting. Most clearly avoided talking or approaching Alfred, and the ones that did had flirted with him or poked fun at him like Cuba had done minutes earlier. The flirting had been the most awkward, especially.

France had winked at him, Spain had complimented his figure, Korea had asked if he could grope his "breasts"(to which he told to fuck off), and Hungary had outright pinched his ass.

Seeing that the others were going to make this difficult for his brother, Canada had protectively reserved a seat for Alfred right next to him. Never more thankful, Alfred quickly sat next to his bro. There was also an empty seat next to Alfred, but he wasn't too worried about it with Matt on his side.

Germany had finally called everyone in to begin and started roll call. A sigh of relief escaped Alfred's lips when Russia did not give his affirmation to his presence. He was sure Russia would have taken advantage of his "predicament," with the outcome of Alfred being humiliated in ways he couldn't even imagine.

When no one answered for Prussia's name when he was called was when Alfred became concerned. Both of those nations missing had to be a coincidence, right? Had Prussia tried to "defend his honor" or something? Or, perhaps he was worrying for nothing. After all, it wasn't uncommon for the albino to be aloof about being on time, and Russia seemed to come whenever he damned pleased. Who'd chastise a guy that carries around a metal pipe wherever he goes? As America was reasoning the disappearances of the two men, they had suddenly sauntered into the meeting. Russia was first, a pleased smile on his face, while a disheveled Prussia lingered behind. He seemed to be shaken up as well.

Okay, something had definitely happened between those two. Maybe Prussia really had confronted the wall of intimidation that was the Russian personification.

Alfred's worried frown grew when he saw that Prussia hesitated to sit next to him, glancing wearily between the empty seat and taking the one next to Greece and Bulgaria. Russia had taken the opportunity to make Prussia's decision for him as he made his way over to America's empty seat and sat down. There was a brief moment as the two exchanged looks, Russia smirking and Prussia glaring, then guilt as his gaze shifted to Alfred before he took his leave across the room.

Victory flashed on the cold nation's face. America would soon be his.

The object of his lust was currently studying his face with a scowl.

"I don't know what you're trying to do, Russia, but you better leave me and my friends alone," he whispered harshly.

"You speak nonsense, America. I have no ill intentions towards you or your comrades." The trademark innocent smile was plastered on his face.

Alfred's eye twitched at the other and gestured with his whole hand across the room to where Prussia sat, whom was still looking tense. "Really? Then, what do you call that." He had trouble restraining his voice from raising, so he spoke through grit teeth.

"Hmm," Russia hummed thoughtfully, "is there not always something upsetting Germany's irritatingly exuberant brother?" Clearly more lies.

This further infuriated Alfred. "I'm going to find out what you did, you asshole. And stay the hell away from me in the meantime, 'cuz I know you're up to no good."

Still not letting go of his cool composure, Russia was about to retort. However, he was quickly interrupted by an irate Germany.

"You two!" The speaker pointed in their direction, "if you wish to disrupt our important schedule than you can take your chatter outside!"

Alfred was going to defend himself, but the German's stern look kept his mouth shut. "Fine." He childishly let out a huff of annoyance and scooted his chair towards his twin, away from the man he called an asshole a moment ago. With one last glare, the American tried his best to pay attention to who was currently speaking at the podium.

It was an hour into the meeting and Alfred had barely registered any topic that was brought up so far. About every ten minutes he would either get a lecherous look or a knowing smirk from various nations around the table. A few had even made rude gestures at him. To top it off, Turkey, who Alfred was facing from across the way, had managed to brush his ankle using the tip of his shoe.

Alfred had never really experienced this type of attention before, and it made him feel a very odd combination of flattery and uncomfortableness. It also was a painful reminder that he was still horny. Why the hell hadn't that gone away yet?!

He suddenly felt a hand sensually rubbing his left thigh. He immediately turned towards the culprit, who was none other than Russia, whom of which wasn't even looking at him, but the front of the room. What the hell? Russia didn't even have the decency to look at him while molesting him? Wait, why was he even thinking like that?! Alfred was about ready to punch the other's light out when Canada had placed his hand on his right shoulder and whispered in his ear. "This isn't worth starting a war over, Al. We'll deal with it afterwards." Canada waited for his brother to give him a nod, although he could tell Alfred was struggling to do so with the way he looked like he wanted to pummel the Slav, before he turned back to Norway's demonstration on renewable energy.

As Alfred tried to do the same himself, he couldn't help but glare daggers at the Russian who continued to grope his thigh. And at that moment, Alfred didn't know what he hated worse, Russia, or the fact that he wanted the bigger nation to move those caressing fingers just a bit further up, and touch him where it felt just right. No! Those thoughts should not be in his mind! Alfred shook his head back and forth for emphasis. He once again swatted Russia's lascivious hand and tried his best to focus once again.

Half an hour later, Germany called for a lunch break. Alfred felt like it was a blessing in disguise. He took no time to rush out of room and just get the ever-loving fuck away from everyone else before things went to shit. He contemplated his options before he remembered that there was an all-you-can-eat buffet down the street. The perfect place to hide out and get a big, delicious meal.

Canada was about to go after his brother to make sure nothing would happen to him, but was stopped by none other than France who placed a delicate hand on his shoulder.

"Good afternoon, Matthew. I see that you are leaving for lunch. Joining your brother, yes?"

Matthew eyed him suspiciously. "Yeah, I am." He waited for an explanation from the other man.

"I was hoping that you would forgo dining with him today so I could speak to him in private." France accentuated the last word.

The other narrowed his eyes and stuck an accusatory finger into the other's face. "I knew it! You want to take advantage of Al!"

France threw his hands up in defense. "Hold on, Matthew. I might have some sensual intentions, but I would never force him or anyone into a situation he would not want to be in. I simply want to speak with him about his current condition."

The Canadian was still not letting up, not ready to trust France alone when his little brother was vulnerable and having a crisis. However, he didn't have to deal with it for long as Prussia had sauntered over to him from quietly observing them from across the room. He leaned over Matthew's shoulder and whispered in his ear so France couldn't hear him. "Don't worry about Frenchie. I can secretly go with them to make sure nothing bad happens." He then leaned away and waited for a response.

Matthew considered this. He at least wouldn't have to tell off his former mentor, and he would neither worry as long as Prussia was willing to play guardian angel. "Well, I suppose one lunch couldn't hurt, eh? Just don't hurt my brother." Canada warned him before he turned to leave as well. He stopped by the doorframe and waited for Prussia to follow along. When the two were far enough from the room, Canada thanked him. "I appreciate what you're doing for us. Are you sure you really want to follow them around for an hour?"

The other nation gave a light laugh and patted the Canadian on the shoulder. "You kidding?! I owe Alfred a lot. I'd follow the guy into a volcano just to make sure he wouldn't end up in the lava. So, any idea on where he'd go for lunch?"

"Hmm. There was a buffet he mentioned seeing when we first checked into the hotel not too far from here. You know how much my brother likes to eat himself into a coma."

They both had a hardly laugh. Prussia wiped a stray tear from his eye. "Well, I'll go check it out before Francey gets there first." The two nations parted ways, hoping for things to go as smoothly as possible. "I'm going to need a giant stack of pancakes and an entire vat of maple syrup by the time this whole ordeal blows over." Matthew thought to himself as he headed to the parking lot.

Back in the meeting room, France was questioning what had just transpired in front of him moments ago. He found it quite odd that Canada had relented as soon as his own once war-buddy whispered in his ear. What could have convinced him? Oh, well. France shrugged his shoulders. As long as things were going his way, he wasn't going to question it. He soon left like the others, leaving one behind.

"Kol kol kol." The infamous chant of an angry Russia stayed in his chair. He watched the whole spectacle take place. Pesky little countries were getting in his way again. Well, he was going to make sure it wouldn't stay like that for long and finally claim what was rightfully his.

However, it seemed that fate had other plans for Russia today.

"Hello, brother." There was no mistaking that icy sing-song voice coming from behind him.

"Belarus! Excuse me, I was about to leave for lunch-." He was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

"How wonderful, brother. We can go together." She left no room for argument and literally dragged the Russian from his seat towards the exit.

Looks like France was going to win this round, but eventually America will be Russia's yet. He thought about all the possibilities to have his revenge on the French nation as he was dragged out the door by his obsessive sister.

Plate after empty plate was scattered and piled up and around Alfred's table as he gorged himself on the various delicious items that the buffet had to offer. After all he went through in the past couple days, food was there for him when he needed to eat his stress away. He felt like waiting out the rest of the meeting here at this establishment just so he didn't have to put up with the sudden change in attitude towards him from his colleagues. After finishing his dish, he pushed the plate away and rubbed at his stuffed belly. He hiccuped a small belch and rested his head against the booth he was seated in. A food coma sounded pretty convenient right about now.

Just as Alfred was about to dose off, a figure made itself known as he heard it clear its throat right next to him. Alfred reluctantly opened his eyes, which went from a half-lidded daze to full-on wide-eyed alertness when he saw who it was. France, of all people, was standing over him expectantly. "Good afternoon, Alfred. Do you mind if I join you?"

Alfred just stared back at him in disbelief. How did the other even find him?! "That depends. I'm not paying for your food, am I?" The American grunted out.

France rolled his eyes in response. America: The splitting image of a perfect gentleman. "Of course not! I paid at the front desk. I'll have you know that I am not a mooch despite what that dreadful England has to say about me!" It seemed like France was about to start one of his epic, over-dramatic tirades again. Not wanting to have to deal with that, Alfred interrupted him.

"You know what, man? My mistake. I shouldn't have assumed. You're free to sit with me, if you still want to. Just know that I'm about to leave in a few minutes, alright?" He gestured to the other side of the booth for the other to take a seat with him. France broke out into a wide grin at Alfred's invitation and took the opportunity to slide himself at the opposite end. "That is alright. I only wish to chat with you for a bit."

This intrigued Alfred. It must have been urgent if the other had come here just to speak with him since it seemed that France was in no hurry to get a meal despite paying for one.

Silence befell their table as Alfred sipped his water expectantly and France looked at him thoughtfully, as if deciding what approach to take before speaking. Finally, the quiet was interrupted. "Have you tried pleasuring yourself yet?"

Well, that escalated quickly.

Needless to say that Alfred was taken aback. "I, w-what?" He knew France was weird, but not this weird.

"Hmm, I suppose I was rather abrupt. Sorry. I am just concerned over how.. tense you were in the first half of the meeting today-."

Alfred suddenly interrupted the Frenchman, doing his best imitation of Canada's whisper-yelling, "Yeah, no thanks to you and the other pervs! I actually had my ass pinched by Hungary today! Do you even understand how humiliating that was?! With all of you assholes teasing, prodding, and flirting with me today, it's not hard to figure out how that would have affected me!" How dare he have the audacity to point out his arousal when he was one of the ones who were directly responsible for it.

France let the other cool down for a second before continuing. "Are you hesitant to try anything with your new body changes?"

Shit. How did he know. "Ehhh.. well, it's just kind of weird to even think about messing with it. It feels wrong, like I'm not supposed to have these parts; that it makes me somehow less of a man." Now feeling awkward, Alfred picked up his glass of water and sipped, making sure to not make eye contact with the man sitting across from him. Why had he decided to confess all that to France anyway? Maybe the pent-up stress was forcing him to vent.

France was astonished with the maturity and seriousness of Alfred's words. This issue deeply affected him. Well, time for big-brother Francis to the rescue! "Oh, dear Alfred. You are no less of a man regardless of what lies between your legs. You are who you define yourself as. You were never one to dwell much on how others thought of you before, so do not start now." That should encourage him. What would the world do without France: Literal therapist of the world?

"That was really deep," Alfred thought. He considered the message of France's speech, but he was still unsure. He gave a sigh before continuing. "It's just that this is all I've known for all of my existence, and for it to be stripped away and replaced with something else just doesn't feel right, you know? It's like a part of me is missing." He started to flush from all this spilling of his guts out. Alfred usually wasn't this open, with being so used to bottling up his troubles and hiding behind his "hero" persona. It felt great to get some of his worries off his chest for once, and was certainly grateful that the Frenchman wasn't mocking him for that.

France nodded in understanding. "Perhaps then, make this new part your own. You have no idea how long this is going to last. What if it does last? What will you do then, wallow in pity and be sexually frustrated for the rest of your existence? Seems ever so miserable to be. I say own up to your new body and embrace it! It'll be the only way you will ever be happy." At that, France got up and left to fix himself a plate from the buffet, letting the words sink in for the American.

Maybe France was right. What if England never found a cure? What if he was stuck like this forever? He supposed then that he'd have to accept his fate and just live life without a penis. Could he really do that? Something that was so integral to defining his manhood was gone. This was all too much for his anxious mind to take in. He was about to get up and leave when the sudden shifting caused him to remember that he was still aroused from his dream that morning and the first half of the meeting. Every change in his position against the seat sent friction across his sex, making the skin tingle, but never any satisfaction. In fact, it seemed to make it worse. He'd have to accept this to at least a certain extent if he wanted relief.

Alfred glanced up as France sat back in the booth with a plate full of food. He set it down and decided to carve a piece of steak. Alfred decided to ask the other a question while he ate his food. "So, why did you decide to come here and talk to me about this, anyway?"

France chewed his steak and swallowed before answering, "Mon Cher, I am the country of love! Not only am I a specialist in romantic-love, but in self-love as well! I just cannot stand to see a fellow nation be so glum about what sex they have, because then it would affect their sex-life, and I cannot stand anyone not loving their sex-life! Intimacy with oneself or with others is to be cherished. That is why I mentioned how you were handling that aspect of yourself." He sliced and plopped another piece into his mouth to let America respond. The latter of the two fiddled with his thumbs underneath the table, nervous and embarrassed about what he was going to say next.

"Maybe you could show me to accept this? I know this is weird as hell asking this, but I don't think I can do it on my own, I don't even know how to do it. I mean, I have plenty of experience when it comes to women, but I think I need someone to guide me or whatever. With you being the 'country of love' and all, I think you could help me get over this stupid slump is all.."
Alfred looked down at the tablecloth the entire time, not wanting to look at anyone with how mortified he was for admitting all that, even more so that he was just kind of curious. What new things could he learn about pleasuring a vagina while he was on the receiving end instead of giving? Although, he didn't like the fact that'd he be on the receiving end.

France put down his utensils carefully and smoothly responded. "You should not be ashamed. I'd be more than willing to help you." He called a waiter passing by to ask for a to-go box. He could always eat when they got back to the hotel. Alfred's situation was more important at the moment. "Now, shall we be going?" He gave the other a sly wink before grabbing his leftovers and they both headed towards the exit.

Somehow, Alfred thought that this might have been France's plan all along to just get into his pants. That sly motherfucker…

Prussia had just pulled up to the International Buffet hoping he wasn't too late. Traffic had just started picking up as he left, making him delayed. It was already thirty-five minutes into their hour-long lunch-break and he hoped that he hadn't missed either of them already. Just then, he spotted two blond men leaving the front doors of the establishment. One had long wavy hair to his neck and the other had a cropped fringe on his left side while a cowlick sprouted from the right. Oh no.

Hoping to not be seen, Gilbert ducked a bit in his driver's seat as the other two passed by. They headed out of the parking lot and definitely not in the direction of the conference building. Fuck. Canada was going to have his head on a silver platter.