Just one hour ago Russia and America had been at that -random stage in London- and the next they were kicked off the stage and locked in a small storage room with barely any light emitted from the light bulb dangling from the ceiling.

( -One hour ago-)

Germany barely managed to pull Russia away from choking America to death. America despite ending up on the ground with his back on the floor fought back by twisting Russia's wrist and nearly breaking Russia's arm. No one was surprised at the sudden change during practice and kind of were waiting for the second or minute for the two to start fighting. Next, Hungary was spitting out words, scolding the boys in which America interrupted saying-

"Why don't you just give someone else Juliet?"

It was the easiest solution, but oh Hungary could be stubborn and evil. She instructed America and Russia to follow her; they had to or face the doom of her beloved pan. Not wanting to face the doom of the pan they followed Hungary backstage and further backstage, past the dressing room, up a few floors and halls, then she paused in front of a door and told them to go inside. They did without thinking. Hungary slammed the door shut and locked it.

"Neither of you are allowed out of this room until you can kiss like lovers." She ordered from the other side. "And don't think about breaking the door. I heard this building and everything in it has high historical value. Break one thing and you could face major consequences. Ask England."

~:::::~

And that was how America and Russia ended up alone in a storage room.

"No!" America cried prepared to break down the door with his super strength, but stopped mere inches from the door. If what Hungary said is true of this theater having historical value to England then he couldn't damage the door. He didn't want England to hate him, though America didn't show it, he cared about England. He placed his hands on the door and dramatically slid to the floor. "I hate my life."

Russia was inches away from pulling his pipe from inside his costume (he managed to hide it well) and just break the door. Who cares about its value, but then he thought about the what ifs. What if this was his historical valuable theater (he had a few) he wouldn't want there to be any damage. He'd probably kill the person responsible for damaging his valuables. He placed his pipe back in its hiding spot and took a breath of the air.

"Listen, Amerika," Russia began. "I don't want to kiss you as much as you don't want to kiss me, da?"

"Yes," America agreed. "I'd die first."

"And I'd gladly grant your wish," Russia promised.

America didn't even tremble at the promise in Russia's voice. Unlike the other nations America rarely showed his fear of Russia. Oh America feared him (Russia knew), but his fear didn't prevent him from challenging Russia. Russia admired that about America, he just wont let America know.

"But Hungary is right," Russia continued. "We need to practice the kissing, da?"

America peeked over his shoulder, glared at Russia for a second or two, then took a breath of -giving-in.

~::::::~

"Germany, Germany," Italy ran to his 'husband '. He tripped on the hem of his skirt and crashed into the well built man. Germany moved his arms around Italy's waist and with his footed strength managed to prevent the crash from becoming a fall.

"What is it, Italy?" Germany loosened his hold.

Italy stood up and dusted the invisible dust on his skirt. "I just realized...we don;t have many lines or scenes."

"So? Less lines to remember," Germany shrugged without a care about the amount of scenes or lines given to him.

"Oh," Italy pouted. "I wanted to spend more time with my 'husband'."

A hint of pink appeared on Germany's cheeks. "We can be husband and wife off stage?" He suggested.

"Really?" If Italy had a tail it would be wagging. "Then...can I kiss my husband."

Germany's face went from pink to red. "Um...uh...yes. why not?" He closed his eyes and waited, and his heart was beating like a loud drum.

Italy went on his tip toes, his lips mere inches from Germany's.

"Okay!" Hungary interrupted, she approached the center of the stage and clapped her hands.

The loud chatter of the theater dimmed, and the kiss Italy would have given Germany forgotten.

"Lets start with Act 1 scene 1." She instructed.

~:::::~

America sat on a random chair he found in the storage room. He played with his fingers as he waited for Russia to do the same. Russia found another random chair a few feet away and placed the chair on the opposite side of America. He sat down on the chair, crossed his legs, held his hands together, and rested them on his knees. He studied America carefully who was avoiding making eye contact with Russia and he was mumbling some words in...Russia listened carefully...in some Native American tongue. Russia wasn't surprised.

He hesitantly took hold of America's hands. They were warm to the touch in contrast to his own.

"F**k!" America pulled his hands away. "Your hands are cold!"

"You didn't say that when I held your hand earlier," Russia pointed out taking America's hands again. This time he held them tight.

America shivered from the coldness of Russia's hands.

"That's because I was in character!" America argued.

"And you did a splendid job," Russia said sarcastically.

America pulled his hands away again and glared at Russia. "Because I cant stand seeing your face!"

"I'm hurt," Russia lied. "But enough talking," Russia grabbed the collar of America's dress and pulled him to him so their foreheads were touching. "Lets kiss, da?"

~::::::~

"I wish that was me and you in that storage room," France pouted. He couldn't stop staring at the stairs leading to that storage room where America and Russia were locked in. He was jealous of the alone time those two got while he and England were stuck backstage (with the other cast) rehearsing their lines on a love seat.

"They're in there to practice kissing," England stated. He was glad it wasn't him stuck in the storage room with France.

"But what if they do more than the kissing," France argued becoming more jealous as he imagined Russia and America nude and well..."aren't you worried the storage room will smell like sex."

"America is too childish to think of sex and I doubt Russia is any different," England sighed getting annoyed. "Now enough about them I need you to memorize your lines, Frog."

"It should be you and I in there doing it." France continued.

England's face became red. He rolled his script and smacked France on the head before getting up. "I'm gonna help the others with their character. " and he was gone.

~:::::~

Russia was on the floor with broken shards of a chair splattered on the ground and on his hair. America was standing over him holding a piece of the leg and breathing like an angry bear. They hadn't kissed yet.

"Kolkolkol," The temperature in the room dropped. Russia grabbed the hem of America's skirt and pulled it. America fell on his back, his head crashing to the ground nearly blacking him out. Russia took America's current weakness to climb on top of America and pin his arms over his head. They just had to kiss that was it...a kiss of love...maybe he should bite America's tongue too.

America blinked a few times until the dizziness was gone from his head. Sky blue eyes met violet. And shit! Was Russia on top of him. No! He refused to be dominated. They fought and they fought, supplies in the room crashed into pieces on the ground until their energy was drained from the fight and they were both panting for air on the ground.

Russia and America were lying side by side.

"Why cant we kiss?" America questioned out loud.

"I don't mind the kissing, Amerika," Russia admitted. It was only a kiss. "But you turn to violence before I can kiss you."

"Sorry, sorry," America groaned. He hated to accept the fact that he was the one being too childish. He dug his fingers in the cracked wood of some old prop. (Oh England wasn't going to be happy about the damages left in this room). America closed his eyes. "I'll keep my eyes closed so you can kiss me."

Russia lifted his head to stare at America. "If you attack me I will choke you."

"Yeah, yeah," It looked like America rolled his eyes with them closed.

Russia placed his hand on America's face, his thumb brushed his cheek. America's skin was surprisingly soft to the touch. Russia leaned close to America. Pretend. He thought to himself. He just had to pretend America was someone he loved. Like a sunflower. Sunflowers were beautiful. He could kiss their petals.

He leaned closer until he could feel America's breath on his face.

Sunflowers.

Sunflowers.

And...he brushed his lips on America's.

-to be continued