Hi! Okay, I'm sorry I haven't posted or updated in a while, and I know this is short, but I've been busy. And I haven't been completely absent, there is not one but two new posts on Archive of Our Own. They were posted there and not here because they were essentially lemons with a plot. (I find them enjoyable to write, sue me.)

Inspired by a cute little snippet on Pintrest. After the www dot pinterest, do (slash) pin (slash) 417779302913279236 (slash)

Enjoy!

Normally, Arthur was quite fond of Pocky. His roommate, Kiku, had introduced it to him during their first semester at Hetalia Academy. He'd since taken to keeping a supply tucked next to his tea stash in his desk.

At the moment, though, he loathed it. He sat rigidly on the uncomfortable desk chair, fists clinched atop his knees, face burning. It didn't help that there were three snickering observers. Gilbert's signature hissing snicker was especially grating, almost as bad as Francis's muffled 'hon-hon-hon'. Worse, Kiku was attempting to discreetly hover nearby, camera at the ready.

This had started exactly one week ago. Francis had approached him after class, and proceeded to get him riled up. Only when Arthur was fuming did the Frenchman ask casually if he'd be willing to participate in a bet. Judgment impaired by his temper, Arthur had agreed. Only now did Arthur realize he'd been foolish to accept.

Even so, he was a man of his word, part of his gentleman's code. Francis knew this. The terms were clear, even if his head hadn't been. If Arthur won, Francis would refrain from any and all lecherous behavior directed at Arthur for the rest of the school year. If Francis won...Arthur was obligated to participate in the Pocky game. He hadn't thought to ask who would be on the other end of the stick until now.

"Sweet, chocolate. The strawberry's good too, but you can't beat chocolate, am I right?"

Arthur ground his teeth, refusing to speak. He was going to murder Francis after this. Slowly, painfully. Preferably with a dull spoon.

Just playing it at all as bad enough. But Francis had managed to rope Alfred into this too. Alfred F Jones, damn him. Always said his full name with so much blasted pride. The only reason they knew he was bi was because of his brother. Arthur wanted to hate the guy. He was loud, obnoxious, gluttonous, somewhat obsessed with his country as a whole, a hero nut, a poster boy for popular quarterback. He refused to call Arthur by his real name, always using Iggy or Artie, both of which drove him nuts. So what if he was the only person Arthur had ever found attractive in real life? So what if his rambunctious, blatantly honest personality was oddly refreshing?

Alfred pulled a Pocky stick from the box, popping the chocolate covered end into his mouth. Grinning cheekily, he scooted closer to Arthur and leaned in, offering him the other end. Deciding to just get it over with, Arthur leaned forward a little, taking the wafer between his teeth and screwing his eyes tightly shut.

Arthur couldn't bring himself to start biting, but he could hear Alfred munching away at his end. Oh gods this was humiliating. How could Francis- no, he could. He could and Arthur had no reason at all to be surprised. How dare he humiliate Arthur like this. And with Alfred no less. What-

Green eyes flew wide open as Alfred reached the end of the Pocky stick. Arthur started, then flailed as Alfred grabbed him by the shoulders. He crashed heavily to the floor, Alfred on top of him. He was mortified to realize Alfred was still kissing him, and grabbed him by the uniform shirt to shove him away.

He was about to put his less-than-impressive upper body strength to work, but froze when he realized what Alfred was doing. His eyes were closed, but he'd braced his hands on the floor, taking some of his weight off Arthur. More importantly though, he was kissing him, actively kissing him. Arthur hadn't exactly had abundant experience, but this was hardly his first kiss. That said...it was a nice kiss. It tasted of Pocky, but then it was certainly better than the hamburgers Alfred seemed to favor. He wasn't just sitting there, and he wasn't trying to thrust his tongue down Arthur's throat either. It was slow, tender.

Gradually, Arthur felt himself relax. His grip went slack on Alfred's shirt. Timidly, still not completely believing the boy he'd been pinning after for nearly three years liked him back, he started to return the kiss.

No sooner had Arthur started to enjoy it, then Alfred pulled away, grinning like a fool. Arthur felt his face flush blood red. "What the bloody hell do you-

He was cut off as Alfred dipped back down, pressing his lips to Arthurs. When the spluttering stopped, he pulled away again and said, "So ya like me too Iggy?"

Arthur couldn't even manage proper words that time, spluttering as his face steamed. Alfred's grin widened, and he resumed the kiss, inappropriate position and all. Arthur tried to shove at the broad shoulders, with no luck.

A click of a door reached his ears. Arthur turned his head as much as he was able, and saw the classroom door had been shut. Their observers, including Kiku, were gone. Well, at least they hadn't locked it.

Assured they were now alone, Arthur tangled his fingers in Alfred's hair, throwing himself into the kiss. Well, if Alfred was for it, why not? He'd still throttle the frog, but for now he'd enjoy the moment.

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