Nearly a week has passed since Iceland asked to stay the night at my place. Looking back, I can't believe how quickly the tables have turned on our newly-founded friendship. Since then, I haven't spoken a word to the ice prince of Hetalia Academy. We are friends, right? Or are we something more? Or perhaps-

A markerboard eraser to the face snaps me back to reality, leaving black marker residue on my cheek and uniform sleeve as it bounces off my arm. "Hey! No daydreaming in class!" The teacher's loud voice barks from three rows ahead of me. She's looking straight at me as she speaks to the class with contempt. "If you can't focus on the lesson, you are welcome to go to the principal's office. Will that be an issue, Hong Kong?" Her eyes lower to me. Yikes!

"No ma'am, not a problem." I utter convincingly. As the teacher slowly turns her back to continue writing on the board, dozens of faces turn around in their chairs to snicker at me. One pair of violet eyes in particular grabs my attention. While the rest of the class has already focused on the continuing lesson, Iceland continues to stare from the corner of his eye. I pretend not to notice as I wipe off the trace of marker from my face and set the eraser to the corner of my desk. He would continue to stare like that for the rest of the lesson.

After the class was over, I scurry into the hallways and make my way to my school locker. I quickly enter the combination to my locker. I can't be late for math, today- it'll be the second time this week! I hurriedly switch out my history textbook for my advanced mathematics textbook, taking just a spare moment to grab a bag of Hi-Chew candies from one of the small, cramped shells my locker has to offer.

As I slam the locker shut, a face that was hiding on the other side of the door is suddenly just inches away from mine. I jump nearly a foot backwards and yelp.

"Woah!" I clutch my heart, now racing a mile a minute.

"Sorry, did I scare you?" a low voice said.

I look up at the owner of the voice as the adrenaline wears down. As soon as I do, I realize it's Iceland, standing beside my locker with his hands in his pockets. The Hetalia school uniform looks good on him- it was a little loose on his thin frame, but I'm not sure they made male uniforms small enough for him. He wore white knee-high boots with black laces instead of the usual black ones the school issued out. He wore the summer uniform with a blue vest over the white short-sleeve top, and curiously, a puffin keychain jingled proudly on his black backpack.

I snap out of my trance and reply, "Yeah, sorry. I wasn't paying attention, so I was caught off-guard. You approached my locker so quietly, I didn't even notice you'd arrived." Although I smiled when I said that last part, Iceland's face remained blank, like a child.

"Sorry," he said while scratching his cheek, looking off to the side. He looked a little flustered as he mumbled, "People tell me I'm quiet, but I tend to forget it's not always a good thing."

I shake my head. "No need to apologize. We're friends, after all. Right?"

To this, Iceland says nothing. He stares off to the side again. I'm beginning to notice this is a common response of his. The Iceland standing in front of me is a completely different Iceland from the talkative, video-game savvy boy that stayed the night at my house last week. I wonder what the difference between the two is?

"-ng Kong?"

"Wha-? Oh, sorry! I was lost in thought."

He muttered, "You space out a lot."

He got me. I scratch my head nervously. "All the time, actually. Anyway, did you come all this way to ask me something?"

He nodded and turned on his heel a bit, as though processing what he came here for in the first place. "Hm..." He looks down at the floor then shakes his head a little. Whatever it was, he decided against it. He looks over at me from his shoulder. "No, I just came to say-"

"Then how about we eat lunch together today?" I interrupt. No way I'm going to let him off that easy. "It's been a while since we talked last."

His cheeks turn red and he returns to face me, still keeping a distance between us. "I was actually going to say that, just now."

A-ha! You really are too easy to read sometimes, Iceland.
I can't wait to learn more about you and your tells.

We agree on a time and place and part ways. History was the only class we shared in common in the mornings. As I high-tail my way to a math class I'm just mere seconds from being late to, Iceland calmly steps off to his computer sciences class. Lunch hour couldn't arrive soon enough. The very second the tip of my toe enters the math classroom, the bell rings. The maths teacher shoots me a knowing look. "That was a close one," he mutters, continuing to sift through the papers on his desk.

Phew. I made it.

When the lunch bell sounds, I eagerly collect my belongings and race back downstairs to my locker near the school's entrance. I grab my bento lunchbox and cram my bookbag back into the small compartmented space, quickly making haste towards my destination. Knowing Iceland, he's probably already at the spot we had agreed to:

"Want to grab lunch in the cafeteria, then?" I had said, shifting my backpack on my shoulder.

Iceland shook his head, pushing away a white lock of hair from his eyes. "No... The cafeteria's a bit..."

"It's loud, right?" I finished his sentence and he nodded. I was really starting to get him down pat. "Then, why don't we go to the roof? Hardly anyone ever goes there during lunch."

The white-haired boy had said nothing, but he nodded in agreeance. And... Was that I blush I saw on the corner of his cheeks?

I recall that conversation with Iceland as I race up the stairs leading to the school roof. Although the hallway was dark at the point leading up to the stairs, the minute I push the heavy door open, a stream of sunlight floods from beyond and nearly blinds me. I shield my face from the sun as I leave the door to shut on its own behind me. I take a seat on the other side of the roof awning and set my closed bento on my lap.

Immediately, I notice something is missing. Or rather, someone.
Where's Iceland?

As though in response to my question, I hear the door on the other side of the awning creak open and shut. Small footsteps walk around the opposite side of the roof. The person slowly make their way closer to me, until a pair of white boots appear from around the corner. I look up into Iceland's eyes.

"Sorry I'm late," He apologizes sincerely, plopping down in the spot next to me. No matter how you look at it, he's sitting kind of far away, isn't it? I can feel a bit of a distance between us. I'll have to work hard to reset that certain closeness we had last week.

"No worries," I cooly reply, shrugging my shoulders as I open my homemade bento: Cantonese roast duck with a side of rice and stir-fried vegetables. I really outdid myself, this time. My mouth starts to water as I reach for my plastic chopsticks and I dig in. A few bites in, I notice Iceland's ever-prying eyes gazing at my meal. Suddenly, I realize he isn't reaching for his own lunch, despite the purple thermos cup sitting in his lap. "Something the matter?" I ask with my mouth full of rice.

"You shouldn't talk with your mouth full," he says sharply. He then sighs. "There's nothing wrong with my lunch. In fact, it's a great lunch. It's just..." He opens the lid to his thermos and reveals a stew-looking substance. From a glance, I could make out the shapes of potato, carrots, and beef. It even smells good, as if the delicious appearance wasn't enough to taunt me. Iceland then screws the lid back on the thermos and closes his eyes, "He's made this lapskaus for me every day since I was a little kid. It's not exciting, anymore."

"Your brother?"

"Yeah," He nods. "I know he tries hard to support me, but I don't know how to tell him I'm tired of lapskaus."

My chopsticks are frozen in my hand. I set them aside and hold out the bento towards the smaller boy. The answer to Ice's dilemma was quite simple: "Then... why don't we switch lunches?"

"I can really have this?" Iceland looks up, reaching out for the dish of roast duck and rice like it was his first meal in ages. He doesn't even wait for me to respond before he takes his own fork and digs in. Immediately, his purple eyes light up and he holds the fork to his mouth even long after swallowing. He looks at me from the corner of his eye as though to say, "It's really good," although he doesn't verbally say anything at all.

Don't worry, Ice! I understand!

"I'm a good cook, aren't I?" I grab for the thermos on Iceland's lap and cautiously take a bite of what Iceland called lapskaus. It tasted delicious, just as you would expect from a recipe that's been made everyday for years on end.

"Don't get too full of yourself," he gripes as he finishes a bite of duck. He then clears his throat before muttering, "Although... It is surprisingly good." That's good enough for me! The cold silverette scrapes together a forkful of steamed rice and eats it so quickly, you might think he inhaled it. A small grain escapes the rest of the pack and lands on the skin just next to his mouth, and he doesn't notice.

I decide now is my chance for an even better meal than Norwegian stew. I set the thermos down beside me and inch closer to Iceland without him noticing. By the time he notices my movement, my face is just centimeters from his.

He jumps in his skin, still holding my bento. "What're you-!" Without letting him finish, I cut off his words by licking the grain of rice off his cheek. I let the tip of my tongue linger there for just a few seconds before I back off and observe his reaction. He doesn't say anything. As expected, his face is redder than an apple, and he has this expression on his face that's caught between sheer horror and embarrassment. His hands are shaking just a little as he holds the lunchbox full of food. I guess if he hasn't slapped me away by now, it should be okay to proceed. I lean in once more, this time planting a light kiss on his lips.

"Mm-!"

Iceland lowers his arms a little but doesn't let go of the platter. I crawl forward on my knees and place my hands on the sides of his face as I continue to leave small kisses on his lips. Although it takes almost a solid minute of kissing, he finally returns the favor. I grab Iceland's chin and lead the kisses down a trail along the edge of his slender jawbone, inching closer to his ear. When I intentionally graze along his ear and let out a silent breath, the smaller boy shivers beneath me.

"Hong Kong," he moans, trying to get my attention.

I ignore his request and instead move my lips back over his, where we deepen into a French kiss. He hastily sets the bento lunch box to the ground beside him and places a nervous hand on my chest. Meanwhile, my tongue easily slides into his hot, willing mouth and dances with his, the heat of each other's breaths only coaxing me further. I bite his lip and push Iceland onto his back against the roof's cement flooring. I sit just above his pelvic area, grinding my lower regions into his, cuasing him to groan and tightly grab onto my wrists. When I lean in for another makeout session, however, Iceland breaks the kiss on his own accord and speaks louder than before. "Hong Kong!" He squeezes my arms and I immediately sit up, looking down at the flustered boy.

"Doesn't feel good?" I ask him, concerned. I coaxingly grind my hips into him once more.

Iceland breathlessly gasps and brings a hand over his face. His face is flushed red and his tie is crooked to the side of his vest. I find this bewildered expression of his along with his tousled hair downright... erotic. "W-We're on the roof," he mumbles lazily.

"Duh," I say, leaning into him and biting his ear. I nibble at the outer lobe, a spot I've just now discovered to be quite sensitive on the Icelandic student.

"Someone will see us... And if that happens-"

"-they're in for a treat." I cut him off and attack his lips once more, sneaking my hands underneath his shirt. While my mouth absorbs his hopeless moans, I reach for his nipples and play with them between my fingers. I lightly roll them between my fingers and thumbs, and they come to life and harden. Iceland shudders and moans into my mouth. I pull my hands out from underneath his shirt and pull up the fabric to his chin, exposing the smooth, creamy, white skin of his chest. His nipples are the perfect color blend of red and pink. I immediately move in and lick the left one while playing with the other in my right hand. I look up to measure his reaction and notice Iceland has been staring down at me through half-lidded eyes this entire time, a hand brought up to his mouth to prevent him from making noise. You're just too cute, Iceland! As though reading my mind, or perhaps out of embarrassment, Iceland places his other hand on my head and grabs a handful of hair. I can't stop a moan from escaping my lips. I can't help it- my hair is sensitive.

I lightly 'bite' Iceland's nipple with my lips, and his entire body jolts once.

"What do you want me to do to you, Ice?" I tease while running the hand that had been his chest down his navel. I lower myself off of his waist and sit inbetween his knees as I let the back of my hand hit every inch of his skin on the way down, until it brushes against the top edge of his Hetalia Academy school slacks. From there, I slip only a finger inbetween his warm skin and the waistband, teasingly sliding my finger from side to side while I await his answer.

Instead, however, Iceland remains silent, his violet eyes fixated on my light hand that teased his lower navel. After some time, the bashful silverette mutters between his fingers, "I.. don't know..."

Immediately, I remove my hand from his waistband and sit back on my knees. All the signs were there, but if Iceland really isn't enjoying this, I have no choice. "Then, perhaps I should sto-"

"-No, please don't stop." In a complete change of events, Iceland pushes my head down until I'm practically inches away from his waistband. He finally makes eye contact with me through those hazy eyes of his and mumbles, "...Touch me here..."

"Well, since you asked so nicely..." I swiftly lower Iceland's slacks down past his hipbone, and he raises his hips and helps me pull them to just a finger's length above his knees. I press my hand over the outline of his erection made apparent by the bulge in his blue boxers. He removes the hand that had previously covered his face and places it on my head, as though he knows he'll have to brace himself for what will happen next. I squeeze his cock through his boxers and he twitches in my hand. I do this until grows completely hard, and I revel in the joy of making even the formidible Ice-King of Hetalia Academy blush. I grab the sides of his boxer's waistband with both hands and slowly pull it down until the tip of his cock appears above the top of the fabric. I lean down and smooch the tip lightly, then pull his underwear down until they meet his trousers in a bundle of fabric at his knees.

"You ready for this, Ice?" I look up at him seductively from over the top of his erection and Iceland chokes a sarcastic reply, even in in a time like this.

"H-Hurry..."

Without another word, I envelop the tip of Iceland's cock in my mouth. A small ooze of precum leaks out against the roof of my mouth. I've only just started and he's already this excited? I take his member out from my mouth and when the cold air hits his skin, Iceland whimpers, gripping my hair between his fingers. I know, I know, I think to myself with a grin.

With that, I run the tip of my tongue down his entire length and up again, savoring his taste. Somehow, doing this sort of thing to an apparently-innocent guy like Iceland is really erotic, just like in the manga. Although I was definitely making Iceland feel good, it's not enough for me. I need to make him cum. With one had, I cup his scrotum and gently massage his balls between my palm and my fingers, while using the other to help support his quivering length as I continue to use the edge of my tongue to bring him pleasure.

I can tell Iceland's had enough with the teasing when he bucks his hips and brings a hand down to squeeze my shoulder. His hand's been running through my hair like mad. I listen to his nonverbal request and finally take the throbbing length into my mouth once more.

"Ah... It feels..."

"Gwhd? (good?)" I mumble with his cock in my mouth, sending vibrations from my throat up his shaft.

He looks away and brings a hand up to his face again, hiding his flustred expression between his fingers while moaning. "...It's rude to talk with your mouth f-full..."

Oh snap!

My lips smile around his member and I let small bursts of air escape through my nose as I laugh. I grab the hand he pulled away and bring it back to rest upon my head. He picks back up on kneading through my locks as I continue to slide my hot mouth up and down his length and stroke his balls. He sits up straight and moans loudly as my head bobs between his thighs, now seemingly indifferent to the fact we were outside and someone below might hear him if a window was open.

"Nn... Hong Kong, I'm... close-!"

I picked up the pace only slightly as he grabs my hair tightly and begins to buck his hips. I decide to stay still as he bucks, allowing his cock to freely slide in and out of my mouth as he pleases. Eventually, he arches his back and shudders with a breathy moan.

"Hong Kong, I'm-!" His breath catches in his throat before he can finish his warning. He tries to remove my mouth in time, but it's too late. Jolts of pleasure shoot through him, and a steamy-hot liquid streams down my throat in waves in sync with his throbbing cock. I nearly choke, but his semen goes down smoothly. Despite the bitter taste, Iceland tastes good. Although, I'd never once in my life imagined I'd swallow another man's semen... I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and Iceland collapses completely flat against the ground. I rest my head on his navel gently stroking his inner thighs as he recovers from his groundshaking orgasm. Looking him up and down, I'm quite proud of myself and allow a smirk to grace my lips.

"Like I said," Iceland panted before looking down at me with those piercing eyes of his, "Don't get so full of yourself..." He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. I can almost see a smile on the edge of that witty comment-

And that's when the door to the roof slammed open. Iceland jumped and froze in place, as did I. Two familiar voices talk back and forth, and immediately I recognize who they are.

"Alfred," the one with the impatient voice said, "It serves you right if your backpack isn't here. You've lost it three times this week, already." His voice is peppered with a smooth, British accent.

The second voice isn't as subtle, nor as tactful. "Four times, actually! Hahahaha!" The very obnoxious voice was clearly an American one, and nearly twice as loud as the other.

Iceland stares wide-eyed towards the open roof, frozen in place from shock. We work together to pull up his boxers and pants. We couldn't see the other two students yet, as they were still on the other side of the awning, but their voices grew closer yet as they approached our side of the roof.

"You know," the American said, "This place would be a nice make-out spot. Maybe we should try it here sometime. Whaddya say, Arthur?"

"S-Shut up. It would be absolutely terrible. For one, anyone could come up here and see us."

A pair of black Hetalia Academy shoes appear from around the corner and Iceland nearly jumps out of his skin beneath me.

"I'm telling you! I definitely left it here this morn-"

Direct contact. We're face to face with Alfred Jones, the American from the class two years above us.

"-ing. NOPE, IT'S NOT HERE! AHAHA, LET'S GO, ARTHUR. AHAHAHA-" As soon as he had walked near us lying sprawled out on the ground, the tall, blonde American does a complete about face on his heels and grabs the Briton by the collar. He urgently walks him away from the scene before he could see them.

"Don't drag me around like some plaything, you dolt!"

They yammer all the way to the door, and even after the door shuts, the clamorous sound of them bickering echoes from below. Those two sure know how to argue- I'll give them that much.

"..."

Iceland remains completely silent until the sound is completely gone, then punches me hard right in the side of the chest. I double over onto the ground and groan.

"The hell was that for...?!" I clutch my side and pitifully look up at him. He gathers his thermos from beside me and places it in his bookbag.

"Because I felt like it," Iceland said stubbornly, the red finally returning to his previously pale face. He steadies the weight of his backpack on his shoulders as he stands up and adjusts his belt. "Well, then... We should probably get going. Classes resume in 12 minutes."

"Already?" I groan, the pain from Iceland's killer punch only slightly throbbing in my ribcage, now.

In a rare display of affection, Iceland bends down and extends his hand down towards me. I hesitantly grab his hand after he nods for me to take it, and he helps me back onto my feet. See, you're not such a bad guy after all, Iceland. Although I imagine he only offered me his hand to help me up, we don't let go until we've made it to the door. By the time Iceland realizes we're still holding onto each other, he drops my hand like a hot potato, looking away and blushing immensely. It's his signature move, I've gathered by now.

We visit the bathroom to freshen up before our next class together- Advanced Chemistry. Taking seats on opposite sides of the room as per the seating arrangement for this class, I can feel those violet eyes of his staring a hole into my back the entire lesson. It's only until the class is about to end that I turn back ever-slightly to meet his gaze and smile back at him. All the while, the science teacher continues to drone on and on about kinetics and the collision theory, but all I can think of is how I can't wait to harass Iceland again soon.

A/N: Thank you for the fantastic support, lovely reader! I know, I know- I originally had set the status of this fanfic to "Complete", but I was looking back and was really amazed at how well the first chapter was received. I hope you liked this second installment of Sound Asleep. Please let me know what you think Three-Sided Square, out!