Read this first: First off, thank you for choosing to read this fanfiction! This is clearly a RusAme fic so, with all due respect, if you would not mind leaving if you detest the pairing. It will help both you and the selection of people who do enjoy it. Secondly, this is an Mpreg (male pregnancy) fanfiction, so please take that into consideration and know what to expect. There will be cussing, suggestive themes, explicit (rated M) scenes, mild smoking, and mild drinking. I'm finished, so go on my friends! Hope you enjoy! Please review if you read!

"Please don't let me fall!" Ukraine warned as she climbed little by little up the step ladder to reach the top of the large evergreen tree, a bulky string of crystal lights clutched securely in hand.

America held her confidently at the hips as she stood on her tip toes to drape the string around the peak of the tree, working outward by weaving the crystalline lights over and under each bristly limb. "Why would I let you fall?" He chuckled. "And even if you did, I would catch you for sure."

Ukraine giggled. "That's good to know. If you were my sister," she paused and shuddered at the thought, "If you were my sister I would already have a face full of pine needles!"

America gave a quick nod of grievance before looking away with an anxious gulp. Ukraine's backside was right at eye level as she worked away cheerily, each voluptuous curve emphasized by the poufy skirt of her Christmas dress. America could just barely feel the warmth radiating delicately from her body…and it made him far more than uncomfortable. Ukraine was very striking, he couldn't lie to himself, but he had always been awkward about women.

Ever since he was young had America had a hard time around women. However, he treasured them as friends and colleagues. They gave him precious input over things he couldn't grasp on his own, such as the multifaceted world of sentiment and why certain shirts didn't harmonize well with his dress uniform, but he could never seem to open up to a deeper relationship with any of them. He had tried many ways to get around it, but every time he got intimate with a woman, it made him nervous.

"America?" Ukraine leaned down a bit to examine America's face. He seemed off in his own cosmos, a star struck but equally perplexed appearance flooding consistently over his features as he mumbled a bit to himself.

Ukraine raised an eyebrow in amusement. "America?" She repeated.

America blinked in surprise, snapping rapidly out of the concentrated thought. "Huh?" He asked vacantly, looking up at her with clear sky-blue eyes.

"Are you going to let go of me? I've finished the top of our tree, but I need you to move so I can work on stringing the lights around the bottom."

"Oh! Yeah, sure thing!"

America removed his hands and stepped back to allow her to descend from the ladder. Immediately, Ukraine continued her work, walking in a circle around the fir to evenly distribute the decorations.

"It was nice of my younger brother to invite you for Christmas this year." She spoke up to break the awkward silence that had rapidly formed in the ambiance about the two.

America nodded, taking the end of the string from Ukraine when she had finished, and bending down to plug it into the wall. Instantly, the colossal tree lit up in a marvelously alluring array of vibrant color. The bright hues shone beautifully through the gem-like casings that masked each naked bulb, painting rainbows across the neutral walls of Russia's home.

"After the Cold War he's been kind of touchy, though." America placed his hands on his hips and stood back with a grin to admire Ukraine's job. "I dunno, maybe he's trying to mend some of the things that happened a while back or something."

Ukraine shrugged and smoothed the wrinkles from the front of her dress with her palms. "Or, maybe he's just lonely." She pointed out. "Little brother doesn't see many people anymore."

America hadn't thought of that before. "Really? You and Belarus don't still live here with him in the house?" He inquired.

"No, not anymore." Ukraine explained. "We only come by to visit Russia for the holidays. Since the collapse of the Soviet Union, we have been independent, and have our own separate houses."

America shot her a look. "Well duh, everybody knows that you're independent. I just wasn't sure if you still lived here." He gave a passive sigh. "If Russia didn't wanna be lonely every year like you say, then he shouldn't have tried to force Communism on everyone else. If he had just kept to himself like I told him to, then he would have been fine, and I'm pretty sure you could still have lived here."

Ukraine seemed somewhat unnerved at the mention of her brother's former political system. "It's not that simple. We would have left no matter what."

"Why?" America raised an eyebrow and followed his friend to the petite love seat that rested against the wall a few feet from the left of the tree, sitting next to her with a questioning look across his innocent face.

"Well, why did you want to leave England?"

"Um, several reasons; mainly because of his crazy exploitation and taxes. Not to mention the lack of religious freedom, and just freedom in general. He was just being a dick."

"That's why we left Russia."

"Because he's a dick? I can see that."

Ukraine sighed, a bit frustrated. "No. We left for freedom. My brother is kind to us, but we still didn't have much of it here."

America leaned back against the cushion of the couch and nodded leisurely. "I guess that makes sense. Communism is great in theory, but it could never work like Russia wants it too. Not everyone can be equal, because someone will always be on the bottom and someone will always be on the top. Anyway, he still didn't seem like he treated all of you too great."

A small smile peaked across Ukraine's supple face, spreading over her rosy, apple-like cheeks. "Oh, he's not all that bad. Russia is very sweet if you get to know him well enough!"

America couldn't help but let out a noisy obnoxious laugh. "Russia? Sweet? Ha! I'll believe that when I see it!"

Ukraine opened her mouth to answer, but the sound of footsteps in the other room silenced her. She peered inquisitively around the girth of the tree's lower level to a doorway leading out of the main room of the house and into a long hallway. Belarus trotted lightly towards them, several old cardboard boxes stacked in her slender arms and her glossy black Christmas skirt flaring slightly behind her with each step. Russia followed closely behind her, also toting a number of boxes. When America spotted him, he rolled his eyes in displeasure. The same happy-go-lucky beam was stamped into his tender expression, and the usual lengthy, stained scarf was wrapped several times around his neck, even though the temperature of the house didn't call for it. America allowed his eyes to trail unhurriedly down Russia's body as he walked into the room, setting the boxes carefully on the floor in front of the evergreen. It was odd to see him in casual clothing, simple dark slacks with a light neutral coat over a white long sleeved undershirt. It didn't look bad, but put an extreme emphasis on Russia's height, making America feel inferior to him once again. Russia always found a way, intentional or non, and America loathed it with a passion.

Belarus stacked her boxes on top of Russia's. "Big brother helped me retrieve the Christmas ornaments from the attic." She explained tugging the flaps of the top box open and picking out a few miniature soldier figurines.

Ukraine stood with a smile. "That was nice of you Russia." She complimented as she helped her sister.

Russia beamed at her. Compliments from his sisters always made him feel wonderful inside. "Are the Baltics here yet?" He asked, changing the subject.

"No, not yet. Lithuania called earlier and said that he would be late." Ukraine explained, hanging a few glassy ornaments on the tree. "He mentioned that he was going to bring his friend along."

Russia blinked. "Friend? Good for Lithuania, someone finally likes him!"

"I liked him. Why do you think he chose to live in my house instead of yours for a while?" America spoke up from across the room, diverting his rival's attention.

The corners of Russia's smile twitched down a bit as he struggled to maintain his compassionate mood. "Ah, privet America." He greeted as kindheartedly as his voice allowed.

America smirked at the slight dither to Russia's tone. It was obvious that he wasn't happy with the comment but, hey, that was his fault for inviting him. Still, America was in his home, so he decided to be on his best behavior from that point on to maintain a reasonable diplomatic relationship. The last thing he needed was Russia on his tail again, not that he had ever left. America gave a silent sigh to himself. It was going to be agonizingly difficult to get along with this guy.

"Hey, why don't you come sit with me?" He offered, forcing a smile upon his face and patting the spot next to him on the couch. "I haven't seen you in a while!"

Russia hesitated but finally grinned and plopped down next to America who immediately regretted his decision. Even sitting, Russia was still about a foot taller than him. America cleared his throat and straitened his posture in a desperate attempt to look taller, but to little avail. As Russia watched the completely obvious display he chuckled a bit.

"Problem, America?" He prodded, already knowing the answer.

America looked up at him, startled that he had been caught, then instantaneously averted his gaze. He crossed his arms and scrunched up his face in discontent. Damn he needed to learn to be more discreet.

"No." He mumbled.

Russia placed a hand on his rival's shoulder, bearing down a bit. "It's alright to be a little short. I like you that way." He reassured.

America blinked, surprised at Russia's kindness. "You…like me this way?" He asked gradually. It was strange to receive praise from Russia. It was completely out of character for him to be sympathetic…Disturbing even.

"Da!" Russia nodded cheerfully. "When you are shorter, it makes me feel like I can topple you all the easier!"

America could literally feel his ego deflating like a balloon. Talk about a thorn to the heart! At first, he studied Russia's face, fairly sure that the comment was a joke. After a few seconds of scouring his features, he determined that his opponent was actually serious. Classic Russia. And the self-satisfied smile upon his face only made the sweltering wrath in America's chest boil over all the faster. He gritted his teeth and jumped up, nearly losing his balance by stepping wrong, but quickly recovering.

"Hey!" He growled, thrusting a finger into Russia's face. "Look who kicked your sorry ass all those years ago! Who cares if you're taller than me? I'm stronger!" He puffed out his chest as he boasted. "I could kick your ass a hundred times over!"

Russia raised an eyebrow coolly. "I don't think so." He stated plainly, not put off in the slightest at America's sudden explosion of fury.

"Don't think so, commie!?" America snapped. "I can prove it!"

"Prove it then."

"Fine, I will!"

America spun around to face Russia's sisters, both of which were busying themselves in the adornment of the tree. Ukraine hummed gleefully as she stretched up to hang a glittery snowflake on a bare branch, while Belarus stared blankly into the distance, slowly handing her sister ornaments one by one.

"Hey," America began, "I know he's your brother, but which one of us is stronge-?"

"Big brother." Belarus cut him off and jabbed a finger at her brother, who gave a smug smile.

America spread his arms in frustration. "Of course he is." He had long since gotten tired of Belarus and her crazed addiction for Russia.

Ukraine seemed nervous. "If you want to find out, go outside and solve it while we're still waiting for everyone to get here." She suggested. "Just don't hurt each other…Please? We all have five days to spend with each other, and it would be great if no one killed the other on the first night."

Russia stood and nodded. "I'll get my coat." He replied enthusiastically.

America glared at Russia, but only received a tiny teasing nod in return. He blinked and frowned when the large nation lightly brushed him with his arm as he passed, sauntering into the hallway and disappearing into one of the many rooms on the left of the corridor.

The two sisters remained quiet as America grumbled heatedly to himself, reaching behind the love seat and retrieving his poufy red coat before pulling it hastily over his shoulders.

Who does Russia think he is? America thought to himself. Everyone knows I'm way stronger than he is!

When Russia re-appeared he seemed more natural than he had in casual clothing. He had adorned his military coat, as it was probably the warmest, and was looking like his usual self again.

"Ready, Russia?" America asked, surprisingly eager as he headed for the front door.

"Wait," Russia stopped him, "Are you going outside like that?"

"Like what?"

"The zipper on your coat isn't zipped. You'll freeze."

America dismissed Russia's warning with a smile and a wave of the hand. "Geez man, I'll be fine! I can withstand anything!"

Russia chuckled and shook his head. "Trust me."

America felt his face flush with discomfort as Russia moved forward, taking the two small metal ends of the zipper and connecting them before slowly bringing the zipper up to America's neck. His breathing was slow and even.

"Just like that." He whispered, not letting go of the zipper, running his gaze leisurely over America's face to examine it with a soft smile and stopping when he locked eyes with him.

America watched him intently from behind his glasses. The violet of Russia's eyes was intense, two soft but powerful orbs burning into his. America held his breath as the long moment drew on, melting into the atmosphere like a tepid, viscous paint of awkward emotion.

"Russia?" America breathed? "Um…" He reached up and moved Russia's hand away from the zipper, stepping back a few feet and hoping that the larger nation wouldn't notice him sweating.

"There! Much better." Russia closed his eyes and patted America on the shoulder, satisfied, before throwing open the door and striding briskly outside into the frigid air of the white Russian countryside.

America raised an eyebrow and followed, confused about what had just happened. The sharp wind mixed with the fat flakes of snow, the two forming a deathly chilly combination, slicing at his cheeks and nose like a razor and causing him to instinctively curl up and shiver. However, he didn't seem to care. What worried him most was the fact that Russia had gotten close enough to where he could feel his warm breath on his face. Dangerously close. Suddenly America felt a knot of fear form deep in his stomach. He reached up and shakily pressed his already numb palm against his chest. Sure enough, his heart was racing. He swallowed and straitened his glasses nervously. Had Russia done something to him? Something he had neglected to notice? He had never been intimidated by the idiotic commie before, so why was he starting now. But still, it was bizarre. He had never felt such an concentrated wave of fear before. It pulsed through his body, chilling his already cold flesh, but causing him to break out in a sweat at the same time. Finally, America was able to peel his eyes away from the ground and peek up. Russia smiled at him from a distance, motioning for him to hurry along.

"Are you coming, America?" He called over the wind.

America took a deep breath, desperate to calm the small shake he felt rack his body. "Yeah!" He called back. "Whatever it is we're doing, bring it on!"

Tea: Yeah, America, that's totally fear you're feeling. Are you sure it's nothing else? Anyway, hope you enjoyed this lo-ng (and boring) first chapter. Sorry, I had to set everything up so that way things will go a bit smoother in the later chapters. Thank you for reading and please review if you read! Thanks again!