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Title: May Day
Rating: PG
Pairings/Characters: Russia/America
Notes: COPIOUS AMOUNT OF FLUFF! DX It's also a turn of the century AU with li'l Alfred and Ivan. Might I also recommend listening to some Scott Joplin while reading? Particularly Rose Leaf Rag, that's what I was listening to the most while writing. :3

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A small bit of pink tongue pokes out from between his lips as he puts the finishing touches on the small paper cone-shaped basket he made just yesterday with his mother and a few of the older girls from the neighborhood.

A chubby hand carefully pulls a paintbrush away from the paper's surface and sets it aside as pale lashes flutter quickly to relieve the minuscule ache that threatens to settle against his eyes from the constant focus he's had over his work. He takes a moment to gently raise the basket up into the air, little less than an arm's length away from himself as he inspects all sides with a critical eye. A tiny smile plays on his lips, one that grows every second as he continues his evaluation before he finally settles it back onto the his work station upside down to keep the still wet paint from smudging and hurries to change out of his night gown and into proper attire.

After dressing himself in a simple romper suit, he forgoes taming his unruly mop of blonde hair in favor of returning to the hand-crafted basket. He spends the better of ten minutes retying the red ribbon through the small holes parallel to one another to make the handle and stuffs it full with candies and a few of his favorite marbles. Some short stemmed sunflowers are stuck wherever he can manage to place them and once he's deemed the gift completed and ready for giving, he hurriedly steps into his shows and bolts from his bedroom for the front door.

The commotion he causes in the small household creates such a ruckus, it's not at all surprising that just as he reaches out for the front door knob, he hears an all too familiar voice call out, "Alfred Jones, where do you think you're going in such a hurry?"

Blue eyes quickly snap to the sight of an older woman dressed in a shirtwaist and long skirt standing outside the kitchen doorway.

"Just over to play at Ivan's for a little while," he answers.

"You're still in trouble for that stunt the two of you pulled on Easter, young man."

"But mama," he whines. "It's May Day."

His mother's just about ready to tell him that she doesn't care what day it is, but as she suddenly spots the newly improved basket she had allowed him to make with the others the day before clutched in his hands, there's a unexpected change in her tone.

"Two hours the most," she orders. "I expect you home by lunch time and it's back to staying indoors."

Alfred happily complies with her demands, anything to give himself a small bit of freedom, and rapidly pulls at the front door.

"Alfred!" he hears her call out again and pauses to listen to her final words to him.

"Be certain to be extra nice to Natalia," she tells him with a small knowing sort of smile.

It's an odd request, the seven year-old thinks, but he agrees to it all the same before rushing outside. He closes the door gently behind him, lest he get into any trouble for lamming it shut and breaks into a light-footed sprint right down to the path he's come to know so well.

In no time at all, he finds himself in front of his friend's home, taking a bit of time to hide his gift besides the front steps and them clambers up onto the porch. He assaults the front door with a series of giddy knocks that show the excitement rising up in him with each second that passes. A bright smile plants itself on his face as his call is answered by Ivan's own mother, dressed in foreign day were and shawl.

"Ivan?" he asks and nothing more.

He's learned since the first visit that Ivan's mother is still not yet fluent enough in English and becomes slightly intimidated when addressed with too many words, and what with Alfred's tendency too speak too much without realizing, the blunter he is, the better. Luckily, the language barrier is no inconvenience. Even without the stern shake of her head, Alfred is able to tell with just the tone of her voice that Ivan isn't allowed outside or to receive any visitors.

Alfred is sure to wear a crestfallen expression as he nods solemnly and slowly turns away. He's halfway down the front steps when he hears the door shut and when it does, he hops down the rest of the way, picks up his basket, and races for the back windows.

He carefully peeks through each frame, searching out the one that leads into Ivan's bedroom while hoping that is where the other boy is stationed. To Alfred's luck, he is, and the small blonde promptly taps away at the glass.

The smile from before comes back to life as Alfred witnesses Ivan rise up from his bed, leaving the book he had been immersed in for entertainment, and makes his way to the window. He's only capable of beaming even brighter up at the curious expression thrown back at him from Ivan after the window is opened.

"What are you doing here?" he asks the blonde. "I'm still being punished for Easter."

"I pretty much thought so," Alfred replies. "But I had to give you something. Here, hold this real fast."

He quickly thrusts up the paper basket for Ivan to take, and once the other boy brings it into his own hands, Alfred latches onto the windowsill and does his best to hoist himself into the room. Ivan finds a clear space on his night stand to place whatever it is Alfred has handed to him before rushing back to help the blonde before he looses his grip and hits his head against something. Lord knows the boy's dense enough…

Alfred gratefully accepts the aid offered to him and allows himself to be, more or less, dragged in the rest of the way. Once inside, he pulls himself away from Ivan's grip and dusts away all imaginary dirt of his clothing and begins to look around for the basket.

"Where'd ya put it?" he asks.

Ivan's eyes immediately swivel in the direction of his night stand, Alfred's own follows along. The blonde instantly makes a beeline for it, snatches it back up and returns to stand in front of the other boy happily.

"I made this for you," he says, holding the basket out by it's handle to him. "There's a whole bunch of good stuff in there like Red Hots, and Tootsie Rolls, and taffy, and licorice, and-"

"You made this for me?" Ivan interrupts with a question as he takes it once more.

"Yeah, yesterday when your sister came over to my house with some of her friends, they asked my mother to show them how to make baskets and she let me make one too because I think secretly, she feels bad for punishing me since no one got hurt too bad on Easter anyway, and then Katy told me you're supposed to give it to someone you like on May Day and the only person I could think of was you, so-"

"Alfred," Ivan cuts in once more. "You're getting excited."

"Sorry," the blonde laughs.

"It's alright…" Ivan begins to shift in his stance, looking as if he's preparing himself for something and flushes a light pink before all his fidgeting ceases.

"Thank you," he says quickly, and leans forward to press a soft kiss against the other's cheek.

Alfred turns red in an instant and staggers backwards, hand pressed flat against his cheek where he felt Ivan's lips against his skin.

"Wh-what was that for?" he stammers out.

"It's what the person receiving the basket is supposed to do," Ivan replies worriedly. "That's what Katyusha told me is supposed to happen when giving out May Baskets. That is what it is, right?"

"Uh huh, but I didn't know that was supposed to happen when you give it to someone."

"I'm sorry, I thought you did."

"No, it's okay. I was just surprised is all."

"Oh, okay."

"Yeah, so… so if you did it a second time, I wouldn't be surprised at all."

Ivan's eyebrows raise themselves slightly. "Do you want me to kiss you again?"

"Mhm," Alfred nods, the fading color in his face returning at full force with the confession. "Because if you do something, you have to do it right, right?"

Ivan's own blush returns, slightly darker than before. "I suppose."

He takes a step closer to Alfred, making all distance between them virtually disappear and places one hand on each of the other's shoulders. Alfred lets his eyes slip close as he feels the paper basket swing from the ribbon now looped around Ivan's wrist hit against his chest while his heart begins to beat faster. His breath hitches at the sensation of Ivan's lips against his cheek once more, and at the small smack that accompanies the action.

His blue eyes flutter open in wonder as the same is repeated on his other cheek, just in time to see Ivan step away with a reddened face and smiling eyes.

"Thank you for the basket, Alfred," he says.

"You're welcome," Alfred mutters while lowering his eyes to the floor and darts them in every direction out of both embarrassment and nervousness. He hastily licks his lips and says, "So, uh… You gonna share that candy with me?"

"Sure," Ivan laughs and leads them both back to his bed where they'll have a seat and as he carefully removes the sunflowers and sets them out of harms way, Alfred will begin to tell him which treats are the ones he's had his eye on since the morning.

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Disclaimer: Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play?

-Happy May Day, everyone!

-Personally, I heart May Day. The first time I went out giving May Baskets and other stuff was back when I was 13, though we used to just make them for friends. But yeah, this gorgeous girl who was one of my ultimate besties introduced me to all the secular celebration stuff and I just kept with it even after she passed away. That's prolly because I always did have another person to go around with me, but I don't this year and no one seemed all too thrilled by getting something, so I just didn't bother making anything.

-Except for this fic, which is for you guys. ^-^

-Happy May Day.. again! :D