A/N: I'm not sure how this will turn out since I randomly scribbled it down on notebook paper in school today, so I'll keep it rated M for mentions of sex in the first chapter.

Disclaimer: Hetalia=Not mine ...It'd be effin awesome if it was, though.

Chapter 1. Wake-Up Call

His eyes slowly opened, and were not met with light, but darkness. His visionwas a bit blurry, and he grasped around for his yawned and turned,freezing to see the naked body of a large Russian asleep in the bed next to him.

Only then did his mind register the dull pain in his ass.

xXx

'Cool it, Jones. You did not sleep with Russia!' Alfred shifted in his seat, fidgeting withthe fuzz on his favorite bomber jacket. He was now in the kitchen, trying to convincehimself that he was insane. He was not sitting in the kitchen with a Russian in his bed, Naked, and said Russian was definitely not Ivan Braginski. Alfred shivered, the air around him suddenly cold and freezing compared to the warmth supplied by the body heat the Russian in his bed provide-

'No! Don't think about him! This did not happen! There is no Russian in my house, that Russian is not the personification of Russia, and I did NOT sleep with him! I'd remember something like that, Wouldn't I?'

Alfred's stomach growled, but he refused to get up and scrounge around for breakfast. Walking hurt, But definitely not because he had sex with Russia, which he totally didn't do!

Arms slithered around Alfred, and large cold hands rested on his slightly chubby belly. A kiss was pressed to his neck. Something in Alfred enjoyed the attention and affection, but he shoved the feeling to the corner of his mind.

"Доброе утро, мой подсолнечника," The other nation cooed into his ear. Alfred turned around with a glare. "First, hands off Russkie! And I don't speak your commie language," He sneered. Russia gave him a look of slight surprise and opened his mouth to speak, but the smaller, louder nation once again cut him off.

"Second! I have a killer headache, and I'm hungry but I can't move 'cause my ass hurts, so just get the hell out of my house!" The American glared fiercely, his blue eyes cold and furious. Russia grinned, although it looked forced, and was that sadness in those violet eyes? "Forgive me,Товарищ. It seems that last night has left your memory, but at least make this confusion up to you."

Alfred stared at Russia curiously, the bigger nation looking around in the cabinets. He opened the refrigerator and frowned, seeing it stuffed with McDonald's. "This cannot be considered a healthy thing to eat, Да ? I will make you something that is not covered in grease and fat." Digging around, he finally produced some ingredients of actual use to him, such as lettuce, carrots, and chicken among other foods. Alfred actually had something healthy n his fridge. Surprise, surprise. Russia got out a pot and began preparing the ingredients, washing and chopping up the vegetables.

Alfred watched as the Russian cooked. He thought the Eurasian didn't even eat, much less know how to cook. Alfred just assumed that vodka was his life source, vodka being Russian everything. The kitchen was filled with a delicious smell, and his stomach growled for the food being cooked. Sometime later, a bowl of broth and boiled vegetables and chicken-not the fried kind- was in front of him.

He eyed Russia suspiciously, wondering if the commie still thought it useful to poison the food. Alfred just shrugged the thought off and cautiously ate a spoonful, which turned into devouring the delicious broth. Russia grinned.

"I'll leave now, Подсолнечник .Я могу только надеяться, вы помните последнюю ночь." He turned and walked out the house, the slam of the door echoing throughout the halls. Alfred frowned, feeling a bit of regret at making Russia leave, but then forced the feeling away. He dumped the empty bowl in the sink and limped to his bedroom, plopping down onto the soft mattress. He soon fell asleep, holding onto a pillow that smelled of snow and vodka.

And then the dreams came.

Skin upon lips against the others. He moaned as his body was filled with warmth

and pleasure. His enemy thrusted into him, grunting at the tightness of the smaller nation.

Each thrust brought a cry of pleasure from Alfred, panting between each moan. Their bodies

were covered in sweat, and Alfred clung to the other, wanting him to never leave.

"Russia!"

Alfred woke, the memories rushing back.

Доброе утро, мой подсолнечника - Good morning, my sunflower.

Товарищ - Comrade

Да - Yes

Подсолнечник - Sunflower

Я могу только надеяться, вы помните последнюю ночь - I can only hope you remember last night.

And there that is. Like I said, i'm not entirely sure where this'll lead to, but i'm sure it may include Mpreg later, me being the

obsessed Mpreg fangirl I am.