Title: Difference is Brilliance: A Hetalia Fanfic

Pairing, Character(s): Austria/Hungary, Austria/Switzerland, Russia/Germany, Germany/England, Prussia/England, America/Belarus, Belarus/Switzerland

Rating: (Full Story) R for sex and cussing (This chapter) still R for cursing and making out

Genre: Romance/Drama

Spoilers: none

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or it's characters. And never will. :(

Summary: Confused, desperate and stressed, the countries seek each other's comfort...but can something more happen?

Chapter 1: Things Start to Become Weird(er)

Austria sat in the World Conference room with his arms crossed. He glared at the floor, refusing to look up from the carpet.

"Austria?" Someone asked. "What do you think?"

"Sorry, I wasn't listening," Austria said, not very sorry at all. He looked up once, to see America narrowing his eyes.

"Austria, that's the fourth time this week," America groaned, exasperated. "Pay attention, dude!"

"I said I was sorry," Austria muttered.

Hungary placed her hand on his arm. Austria turned towards his wife with red-rimmed eyes. "Come on, darling. You've got to listen, it's important for all of us."

"I'm trying," Austria said, yawning. "Believe me, I am."

America humphed and returns to the others, speaking in a loud voice that Austria could have clearly heard if he had been paying attention.

Maybe I could pay attention, he thought, if Switzerland wasn't being such a douchebag. Oh, dear. Did I really just say that word? He clenched his fists under the table. I told him I would be fine with backing off from Lichtenstein if he just took the damn deal. Is it that hard to pull his troops away from my borders?

"Austria," America sighed, "please."

"I apologize," Austria said. "I've had things on my mind lately." Finally looking up, he sent a sharp glare towards Switzerland, who sat at the other end of the room. Switzerland glared back, shaking his blonde hair out of his eyes.

"Don't be mad at the boy," Hungary pleaded.

"Boy?" Switzerland snarled, almost standing up in his chair until Belarus took a switchblade out of her pocket and held it out to him, a devilish grin on her face. Switzerland sat down with a glare, muttering under his breath, "Crazy bitch."

"Be civil, please," England said. He didn't seem to be paying much attention though, scooting steadily away from Prussia, who was winking at the country. England raised his eyebrows.

"Leave him alone, bruder," Germany said, reaching for Prussia's shoulder and prying him away.

"I wasn't doing anything," Prussia sang. "You can't accuse my awesome self of anything, bro!"

"I can," Germany said. "And I will."

"You're just jealous that I've seduced the terrible cook of your dreams," Prussia taunted, giving England a pained look.

"Shut up," Germany said, reaching over and giving his brother a rope burn. Prussia screamed in pain.

"Dude!" He put his arm to his mouth and a slurping sound came from his mouth. England had a disgusted expression on his face.

Russia observed quietly from the corner of the room. China stood in his shadow, slightly shaking. Russia frowned. He didn't like when China was afraid, but China was always afraid around him. It confused him. Why doesn't China like me? He thought. I like him. And Prussia deserved that. His brother was right to give it to him.

Russia felt something was strange with that comment. He tried to find it, and then did, with a twinge somewhere deep in his brain. Why am I agreeing with Germany? I don't like Germany. He is mean to my little China, always attacking his borders.

Prussia continued to moan and wail as the meeting progressed, and finally, Russia couldn't take it any longer. He silently approached Prussia from behind and grabbed his shoulders, actually lifting him from his chair. Prussia's screams were silenced, and his eyes bulged as Russia carried him to the corner, depositing him next to Lichtenstein.

"Hey!" England said, then covered his mouth. Russia looked up, and his violet eyes burned. England cowered in his seat, looking down and folding his hands in his lap. Did I just defend Prussia?

"Yes, you did," Flying Mint Bunny chirped, causing him to jump in his chair and crush his fingers on the underside of the table.

Everyone in the room was threatened by England with a nasty curse until they swore they never heard his out-of-nowhere and undignified scream.

After the meeting, Austria hurried out of the conference room in a near rage. Stupid child, he thought angrily. No respect-

"Austria!" He heard Switzerland bark. He stopped, clenching his fists until his palms grew red.

"Yes, Switzerland?" He asked curtly.

"I need to talk to you," Switzerland said, a look of contempt on his face as he approached.

"I assumed that's why you called my name," Austria said, tapping his foot. "I don't have all day, boy, make it quick."

"Pull back from Lichtenstein," Switzerland growled. "I mean it this time."

"Then get your troops away from my borders!" Austria yelled. "I'm tired of this! Why are you being such a brat!"

Switzerland's eyes narrowed. "Why are you being such a dick?"

Austria gasped. "How dare-"

"Shut up!" Switzerland snapped. "Why can't you just listen and leave my sister alone? She's little and doesn't know how to defend herself!"

"It's all because of you!" Austria roared. "If you want to protect your sister, then back off. I don't want to keep fighting you, Switzerland. I want this all over."

Switzerland's blood boiled, and he steadily approached Austria with a glare on his face. But something was different. Switzerland noticed that Austria's lips were very, very red, flushed from yelling and grinding his teeth. He didn't feel the need to argue anymore, more like the desire to...

"Then don't fight me anymore," he whispered.

Austria's eyes widened, sensing a difference in the young man's tone. "What are you getting at?" He growled nervously, wanting to back away but unable to, something pulling him towards Switzerland.

"This," Switzerland said, raising his lips to Austria's.

Austria's eyes closed in pleasure, then opened again in shock. Please get off me...But his thoughts were in vain, for Switzerland only deepened the kiss pressing his tongue to Austria's, which had snaked into Switzerland's mouth.

Suddenly, Switzerland jerked away, complete and utter horror on his face. "No," he managed to choke out. He then turned and dashed down the hall, no room for anything else in his head but numbness. If there is a God, he thought, as his feet slapped against the carpet, don't let that happen again. Ever.

Meanwhile, Austria stood in the hall, shock spreading over his body. His lips still throbbed with Switzerland's kiss, and he touched his fingers to them.

"What the hell just happened?" He whispered. He turned slowly and walked to the front doors, opening them and stepping out into the warm sun. He gazed up into the startlingly blue sky, his glasses gleaming in the light. Just for no more encounters like that, I'm pulling back from Lichtenstein. Suddenly, the true weight of what he had just done struck him, and he gasped.

"Oh, God," he moaned, sitting down with a thump and burying his head in his hands. "What have I done? Hungary..." Finally, the tears that had been building, from Switzerland and war and all the other things that had gone to shit in his life, burst out. Austria sat on the front step for a long time, sobbing. He was a sad sight when his tears were reduced to sniffles, eyes redder than ever and clothes rumpled. I feel so stupid...how could I do this to Hungary? To myself? To-to Switzerland?

As the day went on, Austria found it becoming impossible to get the feel of Switzerland's tongue against his out of his head. The more he tried, the more vivid and sensual the image became, which is how he found himself sprinting to the bathroom after dinner, feeling as if he were about to explode and fumbling at his belt, leaving Hungary with a puzzled and concerned look on her face.

Switzerland was feeling the same, anxiously pacing in his room. Every so often he would pause to slam his fist against the wall or a table, causing a tremendous pounding to reverberate through the house. In her room, Lichtenstein pulled the covers over her head and stuffed her fingers in her ears, praying for Switzerland to calm down before he killed someone (again).

Eventually he stopped, his legs almost giving out beneath him, and sunk down onto the bed with a horrible moan.

"Get him out of my head," he whispered, clutching his hair. "I'm not gay, I never will be, so stop having me think of him. I don't like Austria. I hate him. I'll apologize, I'll never do it again, and I won't tell Hungary, please..." He rambled like this until he began to cry, the shame and humiliation coming back to him every time he tried to stop.

Neither of them slept, laying awake and staring of the ceiling. Austria felt uncomfortable with Hungary sleeping peacefully next to him, and Switzerland shifted constantly because the space beside him wasn't filled.

They thought of each other.

"I swear to God, Belarus, I wasn't doing anything!" America yelled, running from the mad country with the speed of an Olympian, his tie whipping behind him.

"Yeah right, you lying frog!" Belarus shrieked. She was relentlessly following the American, dashing through the halls after him. Her arms were outstretched, and her fingers were clenching as if to feel America's throat between them. "You stay away from my brother, bastard!"

"I wasn't even touching your brother!" America bellowed, nearly trampling Germany, who had just stepped into the hall. "Germany!" He shouted, racing off down the hall. "Get Russia!" (Apparently America didn't realize going to Russia would only aggravate Belarus more.)

Germany wasn't quite sure what the emergency was at first, but as soon as he saw Belarus charging down the corridor, eyes on fire and hands hooked into claws, he ran off after America, suddenly fearing for his own safety as well. Maybe he would run into Russia along the way...He paused for one step as he heard a crash up ahead, but kept running (for at this moment, nothing could be more terrifying than a pissed-off Belarus). He turned a corner to find America in Russia's arms, clinging to the hulking country's lapels with a terrified expression on his face.

"Your demon sister's trying to kill me!" America shrieked, scrabbling at Russia's collar.

Russia slowly looked up from the country in his arms and saw Germany in the hall with a confused expression on his face. He calmly set America down, and walked toward the sound of what appeared to be a herd of bulls coming toward them. Belarus turned the corner and planted her face in Russia's chest, bouncing backwards, her ferocious look only hampered slightly by a broken nose. Wit blood starting to trickle from her nostrils, she looked up and smiled at her brother.

"Brother Russia!" She gushed, pulling him into a hug. Russia pulled away, looking uncomfortable.

"Belarus," he said. "Germany and I must talk. I will see you later."

"What?" Germany asked, but Russia was already dragging him off.

"Okay, big brother!" Belarus beamed, pouncing on America. As Russia rounded the corner with Germany, Germany heard Belarus screaming, "I'm going to ride you until you cum dust!" He shuddered, a quite disturbing image in his head.

Russia opened a door to find Prussia and England, kissing desperately as if the only way to survive in this moment would be to eat each other's vocal chords.

"Prussia!" Germany yelled, horrified.

Prussia looked up from England, who glared at Germany. "Oh, hey, West," he said casually.

"What are you doing?" Germany asked, wanting to strangle his brother for taking advantage of this man.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm making out with England."

"What did I tell you about not taking advantage of innocent people?" Germany bellowed, straining to break free from Russia's grasp.

"He didn't take advantage of me," England said sourly.

"What?" Germany abruptly stopped struggling, shock making him more confused than ever.

"I was horny, and he's been making moves on me, we're both gay, and he's hot," England said. "So I'm making out with him. Happy?"

Finally silent, Germany allowed himself to be dragged away, still not fully convinced that Prussia had England on some sort of drug. Russia dragged the (slightly) smaller country down a few more halls and then chose a door at random. Fortunately, this time the room was empty. He dragged Germany inside and closed the door behind him.

"All right, Russia," Germany said, turning to talk to the mysterious man. "What's-mph." His words were cut off as Russia's lips closed over his.

Germany's eyes popped open in shock, but, as he knew from before, to struggle would be useless. He decided to wait until it was over, but as Russia's lips found his, he found himself sinking deeper and deeper into Russia's kiss. He closed his eyes, reaching his hands up to tangle his fingers in Russia's hair. Russia returned the favor, though Germany flinched slightly as his blond, slicked-back locks were disturbed. Russia chuckled into Germany's mouth, and the hair raised on the back of Germany's neck. The chuckle was the kind you would hear from a serial killer just before he chopped your head off. Germany shook it off and pushed his tongue through Russia's lips, aching to taste the Russian. Russia moaned, shuddering against Germany and pushing him up against the wall.

Suddenly, Belarus burst through the door, dragging America, who had a dazed, dreamy expression on his face. Germany tore his lips away from Russia, ready to be brutally murdered at the hands of Russia's demon sister. He braced himself for impact, squeezing his eyes shut, but as none came, he slowly opened his eyes. Belarus and America had their hands all over each other, fingers roaming into places where they definitely shouldn't. Their mouths seemed to be glued together, and Germany was hearing an slurping sound coming from between them. America broke away from Belarus and noticed Germany in Russia's arms at the other end of the room.

"Russia," he said, his grin larger than usual, "your sister is amazing. You should've seen her, man, I mean, she's got the best mouth you've ever seen!"

"Please do not tell me about my sister's sexual achievements," Russia said calmly, picking Germany up and carrying him from the room, leaving Belarus and America to their business.

Just as they got to another room and Russia was lowering his lips to Germany's, Germany stopped him. "Wait, Russia," he said, putting his hand up to the other man. "I need to know one thing."

"What?"

"Why are you all of a sudden all over me?" Germany asked, not quite wanting to hear the answer.

Russia thought for a moment, then answered the anxious German. "This morning you hurt your brother. I agreed with that. I thought that was strange, then I realized I liked you."

Germany was a little stunned at this blunt answer. "You decided you liked me because I hurt Prussia?"

"Not just because," Russia said, looking at Germany with his violet eyes twinkling. "Do you know you are attractive, Germany?"

Germany felt himself turning a deep, steady red, and took a feel breath to calm himself. "I guess," he said, his voice coming out much higher than he intended it to. "Russia..."

"Call me Ivan," Russia said, pulling Germany back to him.

"Ivan," Germany said, rolling the name around his mouth. "I'm Ludwig."

"Well, Ludwig," Ivan said. "I find you very interesting."

"I as well," Ludwig started to say, but his tongue was swallowed by his partner, and for once in his life...

Germany submit.