13 nations. One room. Countless possibilities~

Warning: Some vulgarity, innuendo, threats, insults, a bit of noncon, use of aphrodisiacs.

Disclaimer: I did not create Hetalia, but I do enjoy exploiting the characters~

Rounded Up

"Dude," Alfred said, his voice unusually loud as it rang off the close walls of the small room they were all crowded in. "How the fuck did we get in here?"

That was a very good question, one that everyone had been wondering for the last five minutes as they stood, crushed together like cattle on a train car, but Roderich had a strong feeling who could have arranged all this…

"I can't have lunch with you today, Roddy," Elizaveta had said earlier, and Roderich had thought it odd. His ex-wife always found time to have lunch with him… even if that meant taking off from stalking for yaoi anywhere she could get it. And she'd had that manic glint in her eyes… the one she usually had when she was talking about boy-on-boy action, which Roderich also found quite suspicious. He knew his ex-wife was obsessed, sure, but would she really go so far as to lock them in a space about the size of a walk-in closet?

Now that he thought about it, all the signs pointed to that possibility.

Earlier that day, just before the meeting began, he had seen Elizaveta putting something on the door they had gone through to get to the small room they were now stuck in. But Roderich had forgotten about it, and when break time came around they all headed for the door that read 'Patio', because it was a lovely, sunny day and quite honestly everyone needed the fresh air. Strangely, a select few other nations didn't follow. Roderich had thought he'd heard a faint snicker coming from Sadik as they all headed for the door, but then again the Turk was always snickering about something.

Naturally, when the first person entered and saw that it was no more than a large, empty, closet, they tried to turn around to exit. But, as a result of several hungry and bored nations being right behind them, everyone just kept piling in. The confusion arose until word got back to the people still standing beside the door, but by then it was too late to walk back out. The door slammed shut before anyone could even take a step, and they were all plunged into darkness.

The next few minutes played out as follows:

"Ow! Hey, dude, those are my toes you're crushing!"

"I can't help if my awesomeness is too big for this place, kesesese!"

"Ohonhon, Angleterre~your backside feels superb!"

"Er, France, that's not me you're touching."

"Da, and unless France wants to get his fingers broken one-by-one, I would suggest he keep his hands off my задница."

"Ve! Germany, Germany! It's so dark!"

"Italy, stop clinging to me!"

"Stop touching my fratello, potato bastard! … And stop breathing down my neck like a fucking creeper, Spain!"

"I am sorry, Roma, but there is a shelf above my head and… you smell like tomatoes~"

"Ai-ya! Who is pulling my hair?"

"Uh… Ch-China, I think you have it caught on a shelf… eh."

"Ugh… too close… my belly hurts…"

"Now, now, everyone, remain calm. I think Hungary might have done this…"

Everyone went quiet then.

"I awesomely knew it!" Gilbert exclaimed, making everyone around him groan and move away. "That chick is fucking crazy! I knew this would happen!"

Roderich rolled his eyes. "How kind of you to inform us of your foresight."

"Hey, you married the woman. If anything you should have known, Rod-up-your-ass!"

"So vulgar. Don't call me that, dummkopf."

"Heh, can't change that it's true."

There was a flicking sound and Gilbert yelped. "Fuck, ow!"

"Say it again, and I'll aim lower."

Gilbert snickered. "Roddy, if you wanted to touch mein awesome five meters you just needed to ask, kesesese!"

Slap!

"Ow! No, Roddy, lower, lower!"

"Okay, enough!" Arthur yelled. "Who's closest to the door?"

"Me!" Alfred called. He was crushed up against the wall with Gilbert's back pressed against his chest. He managed to get his hands loose from where they were pinned between him and Gilbert and his arm snaked along the wall, groping until he felt the doorknob. He quickly grabbed onto it and jiggled it a few times. Everyone quieted down to listen.

"Fuck, it's locked."

Arthur gave a withering sigh. "America, you dragged a car for miles uphill. I most certainly think you can manage to open that door."

"Oh yeah, right," Alfred said, as though he had forgotten, and he shifted against the wall. "Uh… guys, I can't really move. Prussia, couldja scoot over just a smidge?"

"What? Oh, ja, wait a second." Alfred held his breath as Gilbert pushed past him. Then there was a bang and a hissed curse from Gilbert, and Matthew said, "Uh, yeah, that's a shelf. Watch your head."

"Awesome. Thanks for the information," Gilbert said sarcastically. Alfred was so unawesome sometimes and… why was the man whispering to him? He never whispered! Whatever, Gilbert thought, attention diverted by the situation beside the door.

"All right, America," Arthur was impatient. He was practically crammed into a corner with Ivan wedged between him and Francis's ever-groping hands. He didn't know if he should be grateful for that or scared shitless. "Hurry up and break that goddamn door down. I'm suffocating."

"Oh, nyet, comrade," Ivan said in his sickly-sweet voice. "If I was meaning to suffocate you, you would already be dead~!"

"Hahahaha! Dude, I'd hate to be you!"

"America!"

"Okay, okay, cool your tits, gramps, I'm on it." People moved a bit to give him some space, and he managed to pull his arm back far enough to apply ample force. He drove his fist forward and his knuckles connected with the door.

Nothing.

Alfred frowned. That had never happened before. Alfred had always been able to punch open doors. Maybe kicking it…

But that didn't work either and he stumbled into someone who caught him with a gasp. Alfred was grateful he hadn't hit his head on a shelf until he felt hands going up his shirt.

"France."

"Hmm~?"

"I could redirect my kicks to some very unfavorable places if you don't get your creeping hands off me."

Francis quickly snatched his hands back and huffed. "That is not fair, ami! You would never stoop so low."

"I beg to differ," Ivan said. "He tried to kick me in the balls many times in the past, but I broke his leg before he even came close. Ah, happy days~"

"Anyone gonna object if I throw the commie bastard against the door?"

"Oh, so Amerika is wanting more broken bones, da? After such long fighting and you never learning your lesson, I have the feeling that you like me beating you up, da?"

"All right, outta my way! Shit's goin' down!"

"No, America, you dunce! We'll all be flattened against the wall!" Arthur snapped, though he was mostly worried about himself. He was right behind Ivan, and God forbid if the two nations got into a fight now…

"Si, let's not fight, amigos. Maybe everyone will calm down if we can find a light switch?"

"Dammit, all right, let's—h-hey! What are you doing back there, bastard? Stop grinding into me!"

"I'm not, Roma, I'm just trying to find the switch."

"Ohonhon~I like how you think Romano~"

"Stop creeping, frog, and look for a switch!"

"H-Hey, guys…"

"Oh, but I wasn't the one having perverted thoughts, ohonhonhon~!"

"G-guys…"

"Well, if we're going to be feeling people up…" Gilbert said.

Then Roderich yelped and took a step back. "Keep your hands to yourself, heathen!"

"Guys…"

"Move it, people! I'm tryin' to kick this commie's ass!"

"Oh, you try, Amerika, but that is all you will ever do~"

"Hey…"

"Ai-ya, not here!"

"America, Russia! What did I say about fighting during meetings? Verdammt, this day…"

"Ve, Germany, make them stop. They're going to hurt us!"

"I foun—"

"Yo, we're on break, that doesn't count!"

"Ah, my belly, too close…"

"GUYS!"

They all stopped whatever they were doing and went silent.

"W-what the fuck was that?" Alfred asked tremulously.

Arthur sighed in frustration. "America, if we have to have another conversation about ghosts, I swear…"

"It's a ghost?! That's it, I'm busting down this fuckin' door!"

"Hehe, oh look~Amerika is panicking. This reminds me of our little spat a few years ago. It is so fun to watch when he is like this!"

"It's me!" Matthew shouted—well, not really, just loud enough to get their attentions—"Canada!"

There was silence.

"Who?"

Matthew sighed. "Canada, Al… Mattie."

"Oh… oh, yeah! Heya, bro, when did you get in here?"

Matthew huffed and ignored him. "Anyway, I found the light switch." He flipped it, and everyone groaned as the light assaulted their eyes.

Kiku gave a startled yelp. "F-France-san, what are you doing?"

Francis was standing with his crotch dangerously close to the shorter man's face from where Kiku sat on the floor, his knees brought up to his chest.

"Oh?" Francis said, looking down as though he hadn't noticed how inappropriate the position was—or that he had done it on purpose. "I am sorry, Japon. Pardon-moi." He winked as he moved away, though he was still considerably close.

"Kik, bro, I thought I taught you to kick creepers like that in the balls," Alfred said.

Kiku curled further into himself. "Hai, I will remember next time…" Though he looked a bit traumatized.

Alfred leaned against the wall. "Great. Now what the fuck do we do?"

"We could try banging on the walls," Toni suggested. "Maybe someone will hear and come get us out?"

Arthur scoffed. "Yeah right. Did you see how the rest of the nations were acting? They were in on it, I'm sure. No one's coming."

Francis leered. "Not yet~"

"You're just asking for a good kick in the bollocks, aren't you?" Arthur snapped.

"Don't you two bastards start," Lovino bit off.

"Ja, if you want an awesome fight pick it with me, kesesese!"

"East, shut up."

"Gonna be so fucking bored in here…" Alfred complained. "Fucking blows…"

"I can show you what blows, cher, ohonhon~!"

"FROG!"

The room broke into rowdy conversation. Squabbles broke out here and there and all the while Roderich couldn't believe how unlucky he was. Why would Elizaveta trap him in here, of all people? Guess that accounts for how well our marriage went…

… or just how mentally unstable she truly is.

Roderich took a moment to dwell on this thought, surprised to find that the talking had stopped. He looked up and saw something like a pinkish mist drifting to him from across the room.

"Whoa, hey!" Alfred exclaimed, backing up. "What the fuck is that? Commie gas?"

"Oh, how brilliant of me to lock myself in here with you then," Ivan flashed back.

"Whatever it is, do not breathe it!" Ludwig ordered.

"Ve~it's so pretty!" Feliciano reached out to touch it, but the German snatched his wrist up.

"Nein, Italy, do not touch."

"Stop feeling up my fratello, potato head!" Lovino growled as Toni was pulling him into a yet unaffected corner. "And I can walk on my fucking own, tomato bastard!"

"Everyone, get as close to the floor as you can," Arthur instructed, looking up at the clouds of mist swirling downward from the ceiling vents. He dropped to the floor and covered his mouth and nose with his sleeve. Everyone followed suit…

Except for Francis and Gilbert.

The Prussian was still standing, hands on his hips, laughing. "Kesesese! Nothing can bring down the awesome Prussia!"

Arthur rolled his eyes, and Matthew looked worriedly at Francis.

"Um… Papa, aren't you going to…?"

Francis gave him a smirk. "Ohon, I know what this is. And you cannot escape it. You will have to breathe sometime."

"Is it dangerous?" Roderich asked, pressing his kerchief to his nose.

Francis shrugged. "Some would say it is." His eyes darted over to Arthur who was sprawled on the floor. "But I'm not worried."

"What sort of bloody answer is that, frog breath?"

"Oh, you will discover the answer on your own," Francis said with a wink that made Arthur feel a bit uneasy.

"Dude, France, stop fucking around," Alfred said, though his voice was more tremulous than authoritative. He was trapped in a room with all he knew was poison commie gas. That never happened to heroes! "What the hell is this shit?"

There was a whump, and Gilbert sat back against the wall. They all watched him like eager scientists observing the results of their lab rat. "Nein… was? What is this… unawesome stuff…?" He was breathing hard, and he was slicked with sweat. He was restless, moving around and adjusting his legs. It was only when Gilbert's hand surreptitiously rubbed over his crotch that Arthur jumped to his feet and pointed accusingly at Francis.

"It's a fucking aphrodisiac, isn't it, snail slurping bastard?!"

Francis leered. "You are correct. It seems that Hungary has gotten creative." His smile grew wider. "And I believe you have just breathed in a good amount. But don't let that alarm you. I would gladly see you breathe it in deeply."

Arthur's eyes widened, and his hands went to cover his nose and mouth again. "Bloody pervert," he mumbled through his fingers.

As Arthur dropped back down, Francis laughed. "Ohonhon~! Don't be worried, Angleterre, this could be a good thing for you! I, for one, am eager to see that 'proper' side of yours disappear."

Arthur still defiantly covered his mouth, though he could smell that he was breathing in the aphrodisiac. Everyone else, meanwhile, was watching Gilbert carefully, as if expecting him to explode or grow two heads. But he did something very different.

He pulled the protesting Roderich over to him and forced their lips together.

Francis chuckled. "Ohon~gentlemen, start your engines."

Translation:

задница-ass

dummkopf-idiot

Verdammt-Damn

A Word From the Writer: Just a little prelude to the orgyfest I'm planning on posting. You might have thought that this was the only chapter of this new series you would get today, but IT'S NOT OVER YET. I'll throw you a bone and give you another chapter in which multiple characters throw bones. *waggles eyebrows*

Without further ado, onto the smut!