Oh-ho... it's the Author... *teeth clenches tight, "smiling"* What a surprise...: Greetings, fanfic-ers! It's CryHOg! Back once again to start off my newest fanfiction on one of my favorite anime Hetalia. After finishing up my first fic "Garlic Breath," I was almost in tears cuz I didn't want it to end. So on this fanfic, I wanna try something different. Don't worry. I'm still gonna make a sequel to 'Garlic Breath'. I love GerxIty so uber much! *hearts in eyes*

On this next story, I wanna focus on my other fave pairings, and this different thing that I wanna try out will hopefully make me feel better. To the readers who have read 'Garlic Breath', I really hope you guys enjoy this one.

Axis Powers-Hetalia © Hidekaz Himaruya. Not mine, but it's fun to pretend... *sniffs*

BFFF

~(Chapter 1)~

00000000

"Again, I thank you all for coming," the manager of the credit card company Freedom Unit, Roderich said, adjusting his glasses and stacking his papers. "And please do not forget to offer our callers the Emergency Medical Cards if they are interested. Our existing F.U. card holders will be getting theirs mailed by next week. Any questions before we adjourn the meeting?"

A hand hesitantly raised far back of the office.

Roderich blinked, surprised to see a familiar face who hardly speaks during the meeting raised his hand. "Why, Mr. Vergas," Roderich said with a warm smile. "What will it be?"

"Um..." the Italian began, blushing hard as all eyes were on him. He felt small having everyone looking at him. He knew he should have talked to the manager in private.

"We're listening, Feliciano," Roderich spoked.

"W-well... A... few weeks ago," the Italian bit down his lower lip before continuing, "there was an earthquake at Haiti."

"It made news worldwide," the tired British Arthur cut in, resting his head on his hand. "You'd be a wanker if you just found out."

A few coworkers snickered quietly to themselves.

"Please let him continue, Arthur-san," the Japanese man Kiku said, frowning softly.

"Um..." the Italian continued, growing redder, "they need a lot of help down there and..."

"You want us all to pitch in and donate?" Another coworker named Alfred asked, grinning. "You weren't thinking about mailing in pasta were you?"

The Italian's entire face turned apple red as some of the coworkers laughed while others just shook their heads in shame, and one or so just sat quietly. Their laugher came to a complete halt when something loud and hard slammed on the table. The coworkers whipped their heads to see a tall blond standing with anger in their pierced blue eyes.

"THIS IS NO LAUGHING MATTER!" Roared a deep, strong voice. It came from none other than the German himself, Ludwig. "LET HIM SPEAK!" The room grew very quiet. Even if a pin had a mind of its own, it probably wouldn't dare drop. The German turned to the Italian who was too shaken up to continue after his outburst. The German nodded once. "Mr. Vergas," the German said now in a gentler voice as he sat back down, "continue... please."

The Italian who opened his mouth, too scared to let anything out, nodded in return and stood from his chair. "Just like Alfred said," the Italian began quietly, looking down and playing with his blue neck tie. "I mean, about donating money... or have our customers lend a hand-ve... every bit counts right?"

"Hm," Roderich hummed, nodding with agreement. "You're maybe onto something, Mr. Vergas. Would anyone be willing to give donations for the people of Haiti?"

The coworkers looked at each other nodded in reply, talking among each other. It was a good idea. It would also be giving the company good reviews. After all, Freedom Unit could be generous too.

"We can send letters to F.U. card holders and ask if they are willing to donate a dollar," Kiku spoke up.

"We could also throw in our Freedom Unit mini flashlight key chains for free if our customers give donations," Alfred said excitedly. "People ask for those things all the time, ya know!"

"They're so cute!" A woman agreed. "Who wouldn't want an F.U. mini flashlight key chain?"

Rodrich never seen so many of his employees speak up or take part in anything. And it was all thanks to that pasta loving Italian.

"I can make a donation box for the office!"

"I can have my kids ask if their schools can pitch in!"

"Do you think we can send can goods too?"

"I guess my vacation to Vegas can wait. Count me in!"

"Alright, everyone! Settle down," the Austrian yelled out, trying to quiet everyone. "It is settled then. Let us take part in helping out Haiti anyway we can. We'll make a donation box, send letters to our customers, and anything else we can think of."

Everyone nodded in reply.

"Alright!" Roderich smiled, standing. "Then I guess this meeting is adjourn until next time. Thank you, Mr. Vergas."

"You're welcome-ve!" Feliciano answered, nodding happily. He felt good being praised by his boss and coworkers.

All the employees gathered their things. Some left already and others were sticking around chatting.

The German who was watching the Italian walked over to him and patted his back. "That was very caring of you," the blond said quietly enough for only the Italian to hear.

"Thank you, Ludwig!" Feliciano answered looking up at the German and blushing softly.

"Um..." Ludwig cleared his throat, wanting to keep the conversation going.

"Hm?" the Italian blinked.

"Do you... I mean..." the fidgeting German rubbed the back of his neck. "Do you need a ride back home?"

"I have my bike."

"I know. I just thought... maybe..."

"I'm okay, Ludwig! I love riding my bike-ve!"

"Oh, well... if you are sure."

"Yep!" the Italian chuckled gathering his things and slipping his jacket on. "Oh! Um... thank you for getting everyone's attention for me."

"Oh," the German replied softly. "I was just trying to... well..." The German was cut off as the Italian gave him a big hug. The German blinked. He looked over seeing Alfred grinning while Kiku and Arthur stared blinking. Another coworker named Berwald was just staring with an unreadable expression. The German never felt embarrassed. Sure the Italian gave him hugs all the time, but having people staring made him want to run to the restroom and stay there until everyone left the building. He sighed with relief when the Italian pulled away.

"I will see you tomorrow, Ludwig!" the Italian said with a silly grin. "I'll make more fettuccine Alfredo for you tomorrow-ve!"

The German nodded slowly as he watched the energetic, pasta lover leave the office. "Such a weird man..." he said quietly to himself. "But why is he adorable at the same time?"

"Hey, Ludwig!" called a peppy voice whose belong to Alfred.

The German rolled his eyes before he turned to his coworker. "Hello, Alfred," the German said in a monotone. He then turned to the others. "Kiku. Arthur."

Kiku and Arthur nodded in return.

"Hey, now!" Alfred chuckled adjusting his glasses. "Don't forget 'Mr. Quiet Man' too."

"Who?" Ludwig replied, blinking.

"'Mr. Quiet Man'. A.K.A. Ber..." the burger lover turned to his coworkers, then blinked, realizing only Kiku and Arthur were the only two standing behind him. "...wald...?"

"He left two seconds ago, Alfred-san," the Japanese explained.

"No thanks to you," the British added, frowning and arms folded. "He probably knew you were up to no good."

"Now, why would he take off because of me?" Alfred asked, blinking.

"Because you're up to no bloody good like I said! Bollocks! And he even offered to pay for our drinks tonight."

"Hey, now," the American laughed, holding up his hands in defense. "There's no need to go all British now."

"I AM British, you dumb excused for an American git!"

Alfred ignored his fussy coworker and turned back to the German who looked like he was getting ready to make a retreat. "Looks like you've been getting defensive for your little friend," the American twit said with a wink.

"It's nothing," the German murmured getting his things and wanting this conversation to end quickly.

"He must really like you. You like him too, right?"

"He's okay." The German slipped on his jacket.

"I mean, besides me, Kiku, and 'Mr. Flapjack' back there, you seem to be with him the most."

"Alfred-san?" Kiku interrupted, trying to make the American shut up. "I don't think Berwald-san is coming. I will pay for the drinks tonight.

"What are you trying to say, Alfred?" The German asked, ignoring the Japanese man.

"Nothing, nothing," Alfred answered, adjusting his glasses once again. "I just think it's... cute. Seeing a tough-looking guy such as yourself hanging with a vulnerable, innocent guy like Mr. Vergas. Just like that movie, uh... what was it called? 'Body Guard'?"

The German's eye twitched. His cheeks flushed. His hand slowly turned into a fist.

The Japanese man's face paled.

The muttering British's lips snapped shut.

"Alfred..." the German tried saying as calmly as possible.

"Ludwig," the American chuckled. "I'm teasing you! I just think it's sweet that you're nice to the man, is all. After seeing you two hang around lunch all the time-heh, you might as well go on a date!"

"..."

"I really think we should leave now, Alfred-san..."

"Hell, I'll pay for the bloody drinks, okay? Let's go, you brute!"

The German looked down at the cheesing American for a long time. He then looked up, deep in thought. Quietly, he picked up his suitcase and left the office.

"You damn fool," the Brit hissed after Ludwig was long gone.

"What was that all about, Alfred-san?" Kiku asked pulling out his handkerchief, and using it to pat dry his forehead.

"Just playing cupid, Kiku," the burger lover answered, grinning. "Just playing cupid."

"That wasn't cupid," Arthur said arms folded. "That was World War III waiting to happen."

00000000

"You are bloody heavy, you know that?"

"Three bottles of beeeeer on the waaall... ya love carrying me. I know ya do! Three bottles of beeeeeeer..."

"Where should we take him, Arthur-san?"

"His couch. I can't carry this bastard any further!"

After five bottles of guzzled beer and on the way home singing "99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall", Arthur and Kiku drove their drunk American friend back to his apartment. This would happen everytime. Alfred would drink himself silly and embarrassed himself and his friends; from karaoke, to a dance off against someone who tried to steal the show. Alfred would be damned if he was going to be the second most beloved regular customer in the bar. Even at a drunk state, Alfred was a pretty decent dancer. And everytime the burger lover would dance until he pukes and passes out. And everytime his comrades would end up paying the tab even when the American promised he would everytime, and carries him to Arthur's vehicle driving him back home. His friends carried him to his couch, Kiku would call a cab and refused to have Arthur drive him back, and Arthur would stick around all night to make sure Alfred would take his anti-hangover pills. This happened everytime. It was the trio's routine every Thursday night. And everytime nothing out of the ordinary would happen. This was normal.

The British went to the bathroom to fetch the American's anti-hangover pills while the Japanese man made sure the American was comfortable, placing a thin blanket over him. The American sat up singing out once again. Kiku tried quieting him, making him lie back down.

"Take one dooowwwn-pass it arrouuuuunndd... twoooo bottleessss of beer on the waaaaaall!" Alfred sung out, making Kiku's face cringe. The American laughed and laid back down on the couch. "Ahhh, wut a night!"

"Bloody two bottles, Alfred?" Arthur cried angrily, coming back with the pills. "You've been singing that blasted song all the way back home and you're only going to fucking stop at two bottles?"

"Yeah!" the American giggled. "Pisses ya off dun it?" (*) The burger lover laughed out, then suddenly he made a strange noise, covering his mouth.

Fully prepared, the Brit held out a trash bin in front of the drunk American in time for him to bury his head in and vomit hard. Hearing the man vomit always sounded like he was puking up all his vital organs.

"I told you you had enough, Alfred-san," Kiku said shaking his head.

"You're not my daaad," the American joked with a weak chuckle. The drunk American pulled his head away from the can and plopped back down on the couch panting.

The British walked over to the drunk and squeezed his jaw, forcing it open. He popped two pills in Alfred's mouth and nearly drowned him with a glass of water.

"Ah-ack! Okay! Okay!" The American choked, sitting up and coughing. "I swallowed 'em! Geez!"

"You deserve it, you wanker," Arthur said angrily pulling the glass away. "You always deserve your immature ways when we go out Thursday night. You think you'd learn by now."

"Heeey, maaaaan," the drunk American slurred, "gotta keep mah title in bein' populah." Alfred smirked doing his best impression of a Fonzi pose.

"You are a punch in the face waiting to happen," Arthur sighed. "Both at work and off work!"

The drunk giggled in reply.

"I am going to call the cab to take me home now, Arthur-san," Kiku said quietly as he got up.

"Kiku, let me take you home," Arthur begged. "I always feel guilty when you call a cab."

"You have to make sure Alfred-san is better. I honestly do not mind."

"If you say so," Arthur said shaking his head and knowing he can't make the Japanese man change his mind. "How about next week we take your car?"

"Very well," Kiku smiled nodding.

"I'm payin' next time!" Alfred yelled out sitting up again.

"Right..." both Arthur and Kiku said in unison.

"Did youse guies see how awsum I wuz doin' a handstand at th' bar?"

"Yes," both Arthur and Kiku answered in unison.

"Hah-ha! Badass!"

The Brit went to the kitchen, muttering something about wanting to transfer his job to another location.

00000000

It had been an hour since Kiku left the apartment. Arthur was siting on a recliner, quietly reading his book that he let Alfred borrow, but the git never returned it. He looked from the book, watching Alfred. The burger lover was fast asleep, snoring softly, drool and all. Arthur rolled his eyes, closing the book. He pulled out his cell phone checking the time. It was 12:09AM. He figured the drunk fool would be okay the rest of the night. He always was. After puking his guts out for the third time tonight, he knew the American will sober up by tomorrow. He stretched and yawned before throwing his book carelessly on the table. He stood from the comfy recliner, slipping his jacket on. He looked down at the sleeping American.

Alfred softly moaned a bit in his sleep. He looked different without his glasses. He looked much younger. How old did he say he was? The Brit couldn't remember, but he knew for sure that he was a little older than Alfred. The sleeping American's eyelashes would flutter a few times. The British thought the git was dreaming about hamburgers. For all he knew, the American probably was. He watched the sleeping drunk making soft breathing noises, and his chest would rise and fall. He looks better when he keep his bloody mouth shut, the British thought. And for a split second, he thought Alfred looked like a cute, peaceful little boy. "Who deserves a spanking," he thought out loud, turning his eyes away from the sleeping figure. The British face felt warm. That wasn't normal to him. What was that about? Frowning and brushing it off, he grabbed his car keys and quietly walked pass the drunk American. "G'night, you wanker," he said quietly. Of course, the British would always say that to the drunk. Everytime. Suddenly, something warm grabbed Arthur's hand. The touch nearly made the Brit jump out of his shoes. He whipped around, seeing his drunk coworker half awake, holding his hand.

"Dun gooooo," the American groaned groggily.

"Alfred, I'm tired," Arthur said annoyingly. "I'm not spending the whole night babysitting you. Go back to sleep."

"Pleeeeasse?" The American begged like a bratty child. "You can have my bed. It's comfy"

"I wouldn't sleep in your bed if it were the last comfy bed in the-wah!" The Brit was cut off, being yanked hard and landing on top of the drunk American. Arthur was in a daze before realizing what just happened. He recovered, seeing that his face were inches away from the grinning American's. This was new from the American coworker. He was always fast asleep before the Brit would leave the apartment. Right now, something else was new to Arthur. More like felt new. Just as their bodies made contact with each other, the Brit had a peculiar reaction all over his body... the reaction he thought he would only get when a pretty lady like his fully breasted coworker Ingrid (*) would give him when she flirted and teased him at work. The Brit coworker blinked several times before he finally reacted. He tried to roll off Alfred. His American coworker, however, wouldn't let him budge. "Are you mad?" The angry British cried looking down at the giggling American.

"Maaaybe," Alfred answered, locking his arms around the British's waist.

"You bastard! Get your filthy hands off me!"

The American chuckled, watching the man struggle. He leaned over resting his forehead against the blushing British's forehead. "Make me," Alfred murmured.

Before Arthur had time to swear at his coworker and tell him where he was going to insert his car keys, he was silenced by warm lips.

Now, everytime when the drunk Alfred passed out on the couch, Arthur would stay to make sure his coworker was sober up. Everytime, Arthur would always stop what he was doing, grabbed his car keys, left the apartment, and drove straight home.

Every Thursday night, nothing out of the ordinary would happen. That Friday morning, something completely different happened.

00000000

Nervous, shaky panting.

"A-Alfred... it's not... this isn't right!"

Soothing, comforting whispers.

"It's alright... I'll stop if it hurts."

"B-bastard! Let... let go!"

This night was new. Different. Not normal. Since when was this part of Thursday's routine? But it was not Thursday. It was Friday. A new day. A new hour. A new present. Thursday was long forgotten. Friday was anew.

"You're drunk!"

"I'm fine..."

Discarded clothes thrown carelessly on the floor.

"I'm a man."

"So?"

"You're a bloody man too!"

"So?"

"So stop it!"

"I don't think I can..."

"Why the fuck not?"

"...cuz I'm drunk."

"Get off!"

On a new night, a trembling British man named Arthur was laying flat on his stomach on his coworker's bed fully naked. And his wrists were pinned down tightly over his head. On top of him was his coworker Alfred, drunk, pressing his lips gently on his bare shoulder. The British inhaled a shaky breath from the contact.

This was different. This was new. This was crazy. This... was wrong.

"I can't..." the Brit whimpered holding back his tears. "I can't do this!" Arthur let out a startled cry, feeling his coworker's slick index finger enter him.

"How's that?" the American asked gently before pressing his lips on top of his coworker's head.

"How the fuck should I bloody know?" The British answered angrily. "I'm lying on my drunk coworker's bed with my bare keister in the air, and my coworker just happen to have their lube finger inside my fucking arse!"

"You complain too much, you know that," the American said, gently inserting another lube finger.

"Ah! Stop!"

The drunk American blinked, looking down at his lube fingers inside Arthur. "Huh... I dunno know if this will fit me with even three fingers..." the drunk said sadly.

The Brit's eyes had widen, looking back at his drunk coworker. "Keep that thing away from my arse, you fuck!" he warned.

"Hold on... I think... we can manage."

"Manage? Alfred, I swear to the Queen of England, if you don't let me go I'll-a-ahh..."

A third lube finger was inserted.

"Keep moaning that way..." the American murmured, moving his fingers inside. "You sound really cute."

"I'll show you cute, you damn American-Nhhh! Wh-what the bloody hell ar-ahhh!"

"Just like that. It's so cute..."

"Al-Alfred!"

Fingers were released, replaced by something different. Something new. Something slick and hard.

Blue eyes closed with pleasure.

Green eyes widen with fear.

00000000

"A-Alfred..."

"Relax... I promise to stop if it hurts."

Burning, stretching, tearing, uncomfortable pressure that felt like it would never end.

"Y..you said you'll stop ten bloody minutes ago!"

Heavy breathing, forceful thrust, yearning for more until an explosion of light would burst.

"Just a little... more... a little..."

"Alfred... no more... it fucking burns!"

Sweat, tears, heart racing, blood pumping.

"Arthur... Arthur..."

"D...deeper, damn you... deeper!"

Acceptance, lusting, needing, wanting.

"Stroke it yourself. Let me watch."

"That's... embarrassing, you perverted American."

"Well, I had no idea."

That completely different night, that Friday, Arthur was laying on his coworker's bed butt naked, getting penetrated by his drunk coworker. He hated it. He was disgusted by it.

"Ar...thur... it's..."

What... the bloody hell's happening...?"

He loved it.

00000000

A different apartment. A different roof. A different ceiling. A different room. A different bed. This was totally new to the Brit. A new afterglow. Soft kisses placed all over his body. Warm hands exploring, caressing, tickling until the body next to him passed out.

New silence.

New situation.

New relationship?

"Bollocks..." a dazed British murmured.

The aching Brit got up, gathering his scattered clothes, and painfully slipped them back on. He stared at the passed out American while dressing.

"Bollocks..."

Arthur rushed back to the living room looking for his car keys. He seems to have misplaced them.

"Bollocks..."

He turned to the couch and yanked out all the cushions until he heard a jingling noise. He snatched the keys and rushed to the door without even bothering to fix the couch back.

"Bollocks..."

Arthur closed the door behind him, walking to his car. He slowly and painfully got in, starting the engine. After the car started, he stared straight ahead at nothing in particular. Sitting... just sitting there. The British coworker Arthur Kirkland, just got knocked up by his dumb American coworker Alfred Jones. This was definitely new. It was definitely different. Arthur couldn't get over being shocked, confused, dazed, and appalled.

"Bollocks..."

He never felt so turned on.

Chapter 1-end trasmission...

I suck at love scenes... BIG time.

Heheh... big.

When I told you all that I wanted to try something completely different (ha ha), I really wanted to keep it the same. Meaning (If some of you are kinda aware), I made this into a spin-off of Garlic Breath. That way I won't feel sad for a while since G.B. is over (there will still be a sequel like I said). I'm so excited about this spin-off. I just hope you guys really like it. Well, I'm gonna hit the hay. Staring at this computer for 15 hours is making me see things. Hopefully, more chapters to come.

~See the stars (*)~

Did you see one? :D

1) "Bloody two bottles, Alfred?" Arthur cried angrily, coming back out with the pills. "You've been singing that blasted song all the way back home and you're only going to fucking stop at two bottles?"

"Yeah!" the American giggled. "Pisses ya off dun it?": (How many here used to watch 'The Golden Girls' on NBC? *CryHOg the only one to raise her hand* Anyone? ...nobody? ...damn, I must really be old then. Well, I got that little reference of the "99 bottles" song from that show. This character on the show named Rose, who isn't very bright, was singing that song from their trip and back. She only stopped at 2 bottles, and her friends were so angry with her. It was hilarious! Lol It's a very funny show about these 4 single, old ladies living in a nice house in Miami, FL. My fave character is Sophia Pratrilo. She was born and raised in Sicily(hope I spelled that right), and she's the oldest in the bunch. I like her cuz she's so damn witty, a smart ass, and tells her epic tales of her home country Italy that are pointless and doesn't seem to solve the problems the other girls or anyone else are having LOL. I wanna be like her when I get all wrinkly! Haha! Come to think of it, I think it was also a spin-off of that one show 'Empty Nest' or vise versa. That was a funny show back in the day also! If you guys have either the Hallmark channel or WE television, check out Golden Girls. Not sure what time they usually come on, but when I flip the channel I just happen to catch it by luck!)

2) the reaction he thought he would only get when a pretty lady like his fully breasted coworker Ingrid...: (I heart hentai. Guilty as charged. The name Ingrid is a hentai character from the ppl who gave us Taimanin Asagi: Hell Knight Ingrido (which I'm disappointed in btw). But basically it was a name I randomly came up with. But Ingrid does have a nice rack.)

Okies, more AmEngland goodies to come! Stay tuned... or internet-ed...

Be safe. ^3^

-Cry