England dusted himself off as he got up off the cold hard floor and stared at Russia embracing his America. Alfred held on to the Russian like he was his savior and laid his head against the man's chest. Arthur's heart felt like it was shattering and breaking off, piece by piece; a single tear glided down his cheek as he slowly made his way from the bathroom.

Ivan sighed, "I'm taking you home."

At home, Alfred was back to his moping; he'd made Arthur jealous like he wanted, but he'd come to the conclusion that it wasn't going to work out. Arthur was always going to think he was unclean, he'd always remember the way Alfred was when Russia was locked away, but Alfred had simply been following his lover's orders.

Now, Alfred was lying on his bed wrapped in his plush cover. Clenching the sheets with his fist, his deep ocean blue eyes flowed with regret and sadness; with a deep shaky breath he decided he was done pursuing England. Arthur could fuck Francis all he wanted; as he thought about it his heart felt as if it had sank into his stomach. He couldn't just forget the last 20 years of his relationship with Arthur, but that's what made it hurt so much; how long had Arthur been cheating? Alfred buried his face in the sheets as snot began running out of his nose; it was all so unfair.

Outside of the bedroom door Alfred heard the quiet steps of Russia, a second later three loud knocks echoed in the room and muffled words came from the other side. "Alfred?" Alfred sat up quickly and rubbed his eyes and nose, he knew they were red; he really didn't want Russia watching him, but he needed the company at the moment. Quietly Alfred said, "Come in." Ivan opened the door cautiously and made his way over to the bed; sitting Ivan took Alfred's hand and held it in his own.

"You shouldn't cry over England Alfred," he took his other hand and wiped at the continuous tears, "You're too beautiful for that." Alfred turned his face away, hiding his blush from Russia.

"You're only being nice to me because I'm a wreck."

"I don't comfort anyone America, you know that. I really care about you Alfred," Ivan pulled Alfred into his chest; "I don't like it when you're sad; you don't know how much I've restrained myself from hurting that British bastard just because you like him," Alfred looked into Ivan's violet eyes and his stomach began to tingle with a warmth he'd never really felt before. He knew Ivan didn't have a reason to lie and not for the first time he was going to act on impulse. Alfred reached both of his hands behind the Russian's head and smashed their lips together; he found his fingers tangling in the ashen hair and leaving Ivan in utter shock.

"Alfred," Ivan was breathless.

Alfred placed one of his index fingers over Ivan's lips, "This isn't a trick? You aren't going to-

Ivan removed Alfred's finger and kissed him quick and softly, "I don't want war Alfred, I want love. You have no idea how much it hurt me to start a war with you . . . I've been changing for you; I'm not a communist anymore. I just want you to notice me." Alfred looked into those eyes again and saw sorrow, love, and something else that lit a flame inside him.

Alfred smiled, "I want this."

Arthur was in a bitter rage; he was heartbroken, shattered, and livid. He threw and tripped over furniture blindly as angry tears ran down his cheeks.

America had been his; he just couldn't believe America would rather be with Russia. They'd been together for 20 years now and Alfred hadn't said a word to the Russian all that time, so why now? No matter what, Arthur was going to get Alfred back even if he had to do something drastic. Arthur placed his hand over his heart, feeling the beating organ in his chest.

For a moment he paused in his bitter rage, it could have been a trick. Yes, it had to be a trick; Arthur went down into his basement, leaving the rest of his house behind in a drunken mess. There was just no way his little Alfie would leave him for Ivan. He needed an answer that was going to satisfy him right now, so he was going to perform a little spell that wouldn't bother anyone; Alfred must already be irritated with him.

Arthur sat in the middle of his red pentagram with a black bowl of cool water sitting in front of him, awaiting its use. A lock of America's blonde hair was wrapped around his thin index finger to be used as a trace. Placing his hand on the bowl, he closed his eyes and began chanting in the dead language known as Latin. As he finished, steam rose from the water's black surface; when it cleared the black surface turned into a scene. A scene that made him want to claw his eyes out, this was the last thing he'd been expecting; he couldn't tear his eyes away.

Arthur's emerald eyes darkened as he watched everything from Alfred's point of view. That bastard was touching him, touching his Alfie, sodomizing his body. His heart cringed with each flick of a tongue; Ivan groaned as he thrusted deep into Alfred's arched body. Arthur dropped the lock of hair as his hand rose to the area over his heart, ripping his shirt as Alfred screamed out another's name. He could almost feel it; the primal desire in their voices aroused him, but made him want to die. His nails dug into his chest, he couldn't stand this; he would rather be blind and deaf. Arthur felt tears escape his emerald eyes as he picked the bowl up and sent it flying across the room. He could still hear them even after the bowl had crashed against concrete.

His heart felt as if it was being stabbed with sharp needles and he found his fingers digging into his flesh; he did not need this anymore.

Alfred jumped into the Russian's arms; he felt so alive, especially after the warm shower they'd just took. His arms and legs wrapped around Ivan as he stared into bright violet eyes. Ivan chuckled as Alfred stole a kiss, "Fredka, why aren't you tired?"

"I don't know man; I just have so much energy right now."

Ivan laid the excited American on the bed before lying down next to him. Alfred snuggled into his chest and listened to the beating heart; Russia's arms wrapped around him and held him close. Alfred was really enjoying this; he'd never imagined Russia making feel anything other than uncomfortable but this was great. That was, until there was a knock at the front door.

Alfred groaned, he was just getting settled in. "This happens every time," he mumbled.

"You don't have to answer it," Russia said, "It's your house."

"But what if it's important," he jumped out of bed, "be right back!" Alfred ran off leaving Russia to his thoughts.

Alfred stuttered in the open doorway, "E-England you look dead.

England did look dead; his emerald eyes had dulled and his skin was snow pale, even his lips had turned a light shade of blue. His hair was a stringy mess and his clothes were ruffled; in his hands he held a light green metal box. "I just came to say congratulations to the happy couple," he handed the box over to America, brushing his fingers slightly.

"Arthur you're cold, maybe you should come inside."

"No . . ." Russia came up behind the American and wrapped his arms around his waist; England could see he wasn't welcome. "Just open the box."

Alfred's ocean blue eyes looked down at the light green box, he wasn't sure if he wanted to know what was inside. "Well go on you bloody git, I didn't do this for my enjoyment." Ivan gave him a reassuring squeeze just to get it over with so Alfred held the box with one hand and unlatched it with the other. Alfred's eyes widened and he dropped the box; his hand reached out to Arthur's shirt slowly, his eyes watered with anticipation.

"England you . . . you didn't," his hand caught the end of the shirt and he closed his eyes as he pulled it up hesitantly. He felt Ivan loosen his grip and let go of him altogether, his breath hitched as he opened his eyes; England's smug face made it all the worse. He pulled away, hiding the hole in his chest; he bent over and picked the heart up under the box. He held it out to Alfred as blood dripped from his hand, "This will always belong to you Alfred."

Arthur grabbed Alfred's hand forcibly and placed the heart in his hand; England smile one last time and walked away without another word, getting in his car and driving off. Ivan took the heart away and threw it in the bush, "it didn't happen, nothing from the past matters anymore, it's just us."

Alfred turned around and smiled, "Promise me we'll kill him."

Ivan smiled just as sweetly, "Yes."

You guys are probably going to kill me for this,but I'm ending the story here. A story without a plan can only go so far and I'm not sure how things would end if America and Russia tried to kill England.

So I gave you a scene with Russia and America, How was it?

I'm really sorry to end the story with a crap ending and I've been neglecting to update; sorry!

I promise I'm making a story that's going to be planned out, when will I post it? I don't know. The first chapter is ready to go and I promise you'll like it.