PART II
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Back in his apartment, Alfred sat at the coffee table in the living room with pajamas on, creating speckles of pencil lead on one corner of his paper. An episode from some science documentary on wormholes and the possibility of time travel by bending the laws of physics was playing on the tv, which Alfred was watching, his head resting on the aforementioned paper.

Said paper also had various pick-up lines written on it, which he had worked hard for the past hour to come up with (or search up, anyway).

He was almost ready. He just needed to find his phone so he could even call the dang Ruski.

Alfred still didn't know where all this came from. I mean, seriously! He was supposed to all but wanna kill the guy!
...but instead, he felt a weird flipping sensation in his gut whenever he was around him. He felt his face heat up when he gets close, and his eyes couldn't be more magnetic. It didn't make sense!

But screw making sense! When has the U.S. of A ever made sense? When has Alfred ever made sense?

Alfred, instead of standing up, started crawling around on his hands and knees, searching for his phone. He really hoped Tony hadn't taken it for experimenting again. That'd be really bad timing man.

"TONY!"

The little alien casually walked in with a milkshake in one hand and some weird remote in the other, "What?"

"Where's my phone?"

He pushed a button on his remote, and a loud ringtone came from the couch.

"Thanks dude!"

"..."

Alfred tore the cushions off of the couch, finding his still ringing phone in seconds. He sat on one of the misplaced cushions, taking a deep breath before dialing the number he needed.

-

Ivan sighed, wanting this meeting to be over already. He had been sitting in the same seat for the past three hours. And let's just say that a hard metal chair isn't exactly the most comfortable place in the world to sit for multiple hours.

His president and some other politicians were seated around the table, all focused on the speaker at the front. His boss got up, walking to the podium. He began to speak, but then Ivan's phone rang.

"Oh shit.*"

His boss's head snapped up, "Ivan, we've talked about this," he started. The personification just wanted to bury his face in his scarf and never come out again.
"Answer it, and put it on speaker phone."

Ivan clicked the speaker button hesitantly, and was surprised to hear none other than America on the other end.

Well. Surprised at first, but when the American opened his mouth, he felt like smashing his own head in with his pipe.

"On a scale from one to America, how free are you tonight?"

The whole room went silent, and a squeak of a "what?!" came from Ivan.

"I need an answer for my math homework. Quick, what's your number? Wait- uh- never mind- um-"

Ivan felt his face heat up, and sincerely wanted to melt through the floor. Loud static could be heard, sounding almost like the crumpling of paper.

"Are you from Tennessee? Because you're the only ten I see," Alfred continued. Those in the room who could speak English looked incredibly uncomfortable, and Ivan took the initiative to stop Alfred before he started flirting again.

"I must be-"

Click.

Ivan hung up, his face bright red, and shoved his phone in his pocket.

Somebody coughed, and Ivan's boss went ahead and gave the signal that the meeting was over.

Read: somebody coughed, and everyone was already inching towards the door, which was already wide open due to the personification's rushed exit.

Ivan finally made it out of the building and into the city streets, and tried his best to blend in with the crowd.

Let's just say it didn't work very well.

--

Alfred stared at his phone, his confidence already crumbling.

"What was I thinking?! I knew he wouldn't-! Ugh, how could I ever believe he was- w-would-?!"

Frustration and humiliation breaking, he threw his phone, the device crashing into the door and leaving a dent. He curled up on the still cushion-less couch, hugging a pillow. He didn't know what was happening. He felt like punching something as hard he could and crying at the same time.

"I'm not gonna cry, I'm not gonna freaking c-cry-!"

He started trembling, burying his face in aforementioned pillow to hide the hot, wet ribbons rolling down his face.

---
Three Weeks Later
World Summit Building, USA

Ivan really did feel terrible for just cutting off the call like that, but what was he supposed to do? Start flirting back? Deny any feelings at all? He couldn't exactly do either of those things; one, he was in a meeting, and two, the second option would be insanely cruel. Even he wasn't that horrible.

The meeting was about to start, and he sat down in his seat, tensed up. He was also confused about why Gilbert had practically hung himself over Matthew, their chairs pushed together to make one.
Ivan guessed that he had missed a lot at the last meeting.

"Everyone listen and say "here" when I call your name!" Boomed Ludwig's voice from the front of the room.

Eventually everyone had been called, except for one. Ivan felt a sinking feeling when no loud, obnoxious "here!" came when America's name as called.

Everyone started complaining about America being late, and Ivan saw his chance.
"I will go look for him," he announced, his growing smile giving no room for argument. He stood, flicking the end of his scarf over his shoulder as he left the room.

Was it just them, or had the room dropped a few degrees when Germany tried to protest?

Ivan looked down each hall, eventually coming to an older part of the building. He systematically opened each door, looking through the rooms. He was about to give up when he heard rustling in the last room. The tall man quickly made his way into the room, and stopped in the door.

Alfred was frozen, sitting on a counter, blinking up at Ivan with wide eyes. He looked pale for some reason.

"What are you doing here? Here to patronize me- oomph!"

Alfred's brain shorted out, trying to catch up with why the hell Ivan was right in front of him. As in, their faces were an inch apart.

Alfred's whole face was on fire, certain that Ivan could hear his heart thumping against his ribcage.

Ivan leaned in, and suddenly their lips were pressed together. Eyes fluttering shut, it took a moment for Alfred to actually kiss back, but when he did he wrapped his arms around the taller's neck, running his fingers through his ashen hair. Ivan, in turn, slowly wrapped his arms around Alfred's waist, tilting him back slightly and fitting their bodies together. It was slow and sweet, and neither wanted to ruin the hazy, sugary atmosphere that has surrounded them like a cloud.

Eventually they had to break it, needing air, but contented themselves with pressing their foreheads together.

"I am sorry for any sadness I caused you..." Ivan brushed the fringe of Alfred's bangs out of his eyes, "but as you probably didn't realize, I was in a meeting with my boss."

Alfred suddenly looked sheepish, still shocked from Ivan's sudden action, "Oh... well... oops," he replied, shrugging lightly.

"I do not care anyway," Ivan said, pecking Alfred again, making the American's face go scarlet.

"..."

"...so, how about dinner? Does Tuesday sound okay?"

"Sure Fedya."

"A nickname? Already?"

"Da! A cute nickname for a cute American!"

"...I ain't cute."

"Yes you are."

"... You're cuter, commie bastard..."

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Where I got the pick up lines:
http://www.gotlines.com/lines/cheesy.php

Translation(s):
* In this scene, they all would be speaking Russian, not English, just to clarify. Of course, Alfred's call would be incomprehensible to most of the diplomats.

I hope you enjoyed this little plot bunny~ I worked hard on it! Please comment and tell me what you thought!

Thank you for reading,

NaviListenPlease ~💚