America and Russia~

"I-I'm not crying..." Granted, he was close to. He felt so sick, like he was going to throw up. His heart was beating too fast, his breaths coming with too much difficulty. "I just... y-you can't love me..."

"W-what? Why?" Alfred watched Ivan, confused.

"B-Because you are popular, and handsome, and you can have anyone you want, I think. So, you can't love me; I'm just an awkward Russian boy who isn't good at English yet..."

Alfred frowned. "W-what do you mean, I can't like you? You just said I can have whoever I want, right?"

"W-Well, da, but you should like someone better…" Ivan bit his lip.

"...But I like you. And I don't wanna like someone else."

Ivan blinked, though the move caused his eyelashes to flick out some tears. He quickly wiped his eyes, refusing to let even more fall, but it was in vain. He hated this; he hated this feeling of complete elation and utter dread mixing in his gut and causing his heart to stutter. Why couldn't Alfred like someone else? It'd be so much easier... "W-Why?"

"I-I dunno... cuz I like you. Am I supposed to have like, a list of reasons?" He pouted slightly.

"N-Nyet, but…I-I like you too…"

Alfred blinked. "Th-then what's the problem?"

"I'm just—" Papa. Papa wouldn't like it one bit. He'd be pissed; he would disown his son for being an abomination… "—…n-not gay," he lied, glancing down at his lap. Of course Alfred would know it was a lie; he had told the American he liked boys, after all, but he could not place the blame on Papa. Papa wasn't the one at fault. It was Ivan; Ivan was the one who was a giant mistake…

"O-oh... right..." Alfred sat back, looking away. Ivan had to be lying, since he was the one who'd kissed Alfred in the first place, after all... but Alfred knew why he was, and he didn't blame him for it. So he wasn't about to argue, or try to persuade him otherwise. It would probably be best if... if they just ignored it, and pretended nothing had ever happened.

"S-So…you should choose someone better to like, da?" Ivan wiped at his eyes again, forcing himself to smile.

Alfred paused for a moment, then leaned in and carefully kissed Ivan's cheek. "...You're still my best friend."

Ivan closed his eyes, his hand resting on the back of Alfred's neck. "…Da, and you are mine…"

"...Good." Alfred pulled back again to smile at Ivan. "...And we can still cuddle and stuff, if you want. As friends."

He returned the smile, nodding a little bit. "D-Da, that would be nice. I would like to keep cuddling…" Ivan slid his hand from the back of he American's neck to his shoulder, his thumb rubbing up against his clavicle.

"Well, I am supposed to be your new teddy bear, remember? What would be the point of a teddy bear you couldn't cuddle?"

"…Da, you're right." Ivan smiled and wrapped his arms around Alfred's neck, resting his head on his shoulder. "…You're always right."

"Of course I am. This is me we're talking about." He grinned, wrapping an arm around Ivan's back.

"You won't keep away from me?" Ivan smiled up at him, scooting a little closer.

"Of course not. That wouldn't make me a very good best friend, would it?"

"Nyet, I suppose not." Ivan closed his eyes, trailing a hand down Alfred's arm to his hand, entwining their fingers together.

"And I'm an awesome best friend, you'll see." Alfred relaxed against Ivan, closing his eyes. He knew it probably wasn't normal for friends to do this kind of stuff--especially when both of them were guys--but he wasn't about to protest. Ivan was really nice and cuddly, after all.

"Mm…" Ivan nodded, flopping down onto the bed and pulling Alfred on top of him. He smiled and enjoyed the warm, pleasant weight on his chest. "I don't doubt it…"