Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.
Note: I would be using their character names, mostly. This is an AU fic—a very AU one. Also, I would like to apologize early for any out of character behaviour and/or poor plotting.

Warning: This is a BL (BoysLove) fic. If you are not interested or strongly against it, I insist that you should look for something else to read. Thank You.

..

Kiku couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy with his surroundings—he still couldn't get quite used to his new home. Even if the place had some of the up-to-date furniture from Japan, it still looks as if he was just browsing inside a furnishing store. The whole thing looked a bit fancy for his liking.

He did live in a traditional Japanese home, after all (finding that there was no genkan here made it all the more unfamiliar and foreign); seeing the very modern styles in home living seemed a little bit… odd compared to what he's used to living in for all his life. Kiku looked around the great room to take in its unfamiliar aspects for the umpteenth time.

There is a couch and a small coffee table on one part of the room, and then there is a dining table with matching chairs on the other (complete with a kitchen by it). Between the two sides, there is a stairway which is believed to lead to the bedroom. The walls are of a rich, beige colour, and the floor is made of dark wood. In the middle of the simple furnished place, there is a white (faux?) fur rug—it's a bit of a clashing piece, isn't it?

The room that he is standing in, though, is not what he had bought—someone else bought this place for him. It was in courtesy of his dear, easy-going friend, Feliciano Vargas. "This is a gift for making you come and work with me in Italy, ve?" his Italian friend would say in that usual enthusiastic tone of voice.

Admittedly, Feliciano did do a wonderful job in finding a place that was literally just beside the long canal that passed through Venice—what was its name, again? On the other hand, the window in his room did not show a fantastic view of the city; it was the brick wall of another apartment, really. Well, Kiku decided that the other did well since the low hum of the boats' engines that pass by had been the main source that lulls him into easy sleep.

Everything has its ups and downs, after all. Nothing goes entirely your way.

It had been nearly a week since he had moved to Italy; it's a nice place, he'll admit to that—it's a very fascinating country, as well. The food and culture here is obviously different from the things he'd normally be accustomed to, but he guessed that it's kind of like a nice change in pace (a little adventure, maybe).

Suddenly walking to the small kitchen at the far end of the room, Kiku soon took out the fresh supply of raw meats and vegetables from the plastic bags he was carrying and placed them into the previously empty fridge. The things he bought, now that he thought about it, weren't really of the best quality since it's already the end of the day (everything is much better bought in the morning); it's still alright, he supposed. He will still try to shop a bit earlier, though.

The man is now staring off into space, but some people would think that his attention was on the oddly-shaped potato (it kind of looks like a shoe). His mind wandered into thinking what kinds of dishes he would be able to prepare tomorrow. It would have to be something quick to prepare since he has another early meeting at his workplace.

The only means of transportation is either walking or running, and it was a good thing that the building was only a few minutes away.

Quickly deciding on what he'll have to eat on the following day, Kiku closed the refrigerator and proceeded up the staircase found in the middle of the great room. Opening the door at the top, it showed the obvious expectation that it is the bedroom. The man unexpectedly turned to his right—there is yet another door. As he opened it, it revealed that it is the bathroom.

Casually going inside, he prepared himself for the night ahead of him. Going out of the bathroom, Kiku went straight for the large bed that seemed to be that of a king's; it is as white as the rug in the great room. Beside the bed is an end table (which looks to be made by the same wood as of the floor) that held up a bronze lamp with a white lampshade.

The lamp looks as if it were a really expensive antique; it actually may be the case. Where Feliciano had found all the furniture in this apartment, Kiku had no idea. Knowing that, it made the slight fear of damaging it even more unthinkable. The man told himself to rarely use the thing.

Now submitting himself into bed, Kiku was already entering the state of unconsciousness without another second to spare. As he was about to sleep, he heard the murmur of a boat's engine outside—it suddenly slowed and the sound became barely audible. A few seconds later, the sound had started again and drifted away until it could no longer be heard.

Kiku hadn't bothered himself with what had just happened; it was somewhat usual for him.

The Japanese man soon heard sounds coming from where his bedroom window is. He then realised that he had yet to close it and that the wind must be causing the sounds. Slowly stirring himself awake, Kiku soundlessly shifted under the bed sheets and sat up.

The room is soon illuminated with the dim lighting of the lamp beside him—it had been switched on.

Turning his head to the side, Kiku found himself looking straight into the eyes of another. He blinked twice before fully understanding that there really was someone else in his room—the stranger is a blond man with green eyes…wearing a dark-coloured suit and gloves… in one hand, there held a pair of shoes.

The other was looking at the Japanese man with an inquiring expression on his face (as if to ask: 'who are you?'). For some reason, Kiku couldn't bring himself to move and pin the intruder down. With all that experience of various martial arts in his belt, he chose to observe the stranger—not a very wise thing to do, obviously.

He couldn't help it, though. The other did not give off that he is planning to harm Kiku; there was just this semi-awkward silence of sheer curiosity between them. It was like that of two children meeting for the first time, maybe.

Why are there so many things that he could not help himself to, the Japanese man began to wonder.

A quick second had passed, and the blond man soon had somewhat of a smug look on his face. "You're not much of a good flat mate, are you?" Kiku recognized that the other was speaking in English—

"Have you never been taught to ask for one's permission?"
"Eh?"
"You're sleeping in my bed."