Can you believe it? I'm finally done with my first multichapter, omakes and all! When I planned this, I was intending a oneshot, and then it grew and grew and grew. I'm kind of sad to write this last omake, because it means the end, but I'm so happy with all the alerts/favorites/reviews I got on this story. It had been my most popular by far and really encouraged me to keep writing fanfics. I am sorry for the long wait for this omake. I've gotten sidetracked by more serious and less humorous fics (Reverberations, Post Coitus, Variations on a Japanese Folk Song, all my other Bleach fics), and I have gotten rusty at dialogue and lighthearted humor. But I promised you this omake, and I would hate to disappoint, especially since the idea makes me happy.

Here's a refresher since it's been so long. I mentioned in an earlier chapter that Gilbert had a video of Alfred and Arthur re-enacting the Klaine confession scene from Glee, which was relatively recent when I came up with the idea. (Shows you how much I've procrastinated). So this does have a little PruHun, but it's mostly UsUk in the guise of Klaine from Glee. I hope it's not too hard to understand, and that it lives up to your expectations. Again, thank you so much to everyone who has supported me throughout this story. I cannot express how much your feedback has meant to me.

And by the way, I don't own Hetalia...or Glee. Just in case you were wondering. :)

Enjoy! I'm going to end the AN now before I get all emotional about this story ending.

Much love, Pinksnowboots

"You know Liz, most girls don't ask their boyfriends for videos of their male friends kissing."

"Well, I'm not most girls, as you should know by now. And let me remind you, it was your idea. I didn't even know what Glee was!"

Gilbert had finally been allowed into Elizabeta's video room, a great privilege that even Roderich had never been given, to watch the screening of Arthur and Alfred playing Kurt and Blaine from Glee. As the couple squabbled good-naturedly on the couch Gilbert had dragged up the stairs (so there was room for two people to sit), the video screen flickered to life to show another couple bickering on screen.

"Gil, shut up! The video's starting!"

"You know, some of us don't get off on watching gay men make out. Ouch! You know, most girls don't hit their boyfriends with frying pans either. I think that counts as domestic abuse."

Elizabeta just rolled her eyes, gave the albino a quick kiss, and clamped her hand over his mouth as she stared, enraptured, at the screen.


"Well, you're shorter, so that's more like Blaine. But you're also more feminine and stuff, so that would say Kurt."

"Bloody git! Haven't you learned not to make jabs about my height? Not all of us are oversized like you Americans! And what do you mean by more feminine?"

Alfred realized his mistake and clumsily tried to get out of the situation.

"I mean that you're…more stylish and cultured than me! British people are, you know. Plus, you have that sexy accent."

Alfred tried to throw in a wink for good measure, but by now Arthur was long immune to his tricks and looked ready to pommel the American, lover or no. Seeing that being charming wasn't going to work, Alfred went for his go to method of shutting Arthur up: occupying his lips with actions other than talking. This may or may not have resulted in violence, but Gilbert walked confidently into the room, interrupting the lover's quarrel.

"Whoa. Save it for the camera, for the love of Gilbird! I feel weird enough doing this already, but since it's for love, I can stand it. And if I know Eliza, the way to her heart is definitely through some kind of weird role-playing man on man footage. So just remember, I'm cashing in all the favors that you owe me. Part of the deal is that you commit to the role. The other part is that we never speak of this to anyone. Understood?"

Both men agreed, Arthur more enthusiastically than Alfred. The American was well known for having no shame about public displays of affection, or public displays of anything, really.

"Right, so that's settled. Alfred, you're Blaine. Arthur, you're Kurt. No complaining. Now I'm going to yell Action! and head for the director's booth. I have no desire to watch you two making out, so I'm assuming you know what you're doing."

He was met with a mixture of enthusiasm and sullen agreement from the two. Despite being a rather rushed job, the setup was rather impressive. Both men wore Dalton Academy uniforms and the set looked remarkably like an upper-class boarding school classroom. Gilbert's voice suddenly boomed out over the intercom.

"Alright boys, let's get this show on the road. Alfred, out of the room till your cue! Arthur, sit there and look gay or something. I cut the stuff about the bird casket because Gilbert didn't like it. And now, ACTION!"

The scene started with an appropriately dramatic close up shot of Arthur's face, highlighting the more feminine of its features. It lingered there for a moment, and then panned out to show Alfred coming in the door.

"I have the perfect song for our number at regionals."

Arthur looked up, all the petulance that was present moments ago completely gone. Now he was all flirtatious curiosity.

"Do tell."

Alfred drew in a short breath, conveying the nerves of a man about to confess something, even if it was only the song choice. Gilbert allowed himself a moment of internal congratulation on his casting skills before returning his attention to Alfred, who was about to speak.

"Candles, by Hey Monday."

He looked so adorably insecure, so innocently eager for the other man's approval. So like their relationship throughout history. In this case, art was imitating life (if you could really call this art.)

"I'm impressed." Arthur managed to lace a hint of sarcasm into his affectionate teasing. "You're usually so Top 40."

"Well," Alfred still looked slightly nervous, although pleased at the reception he'd gotten thus far. "I wanted to try something a little more…emotional."

As Alfred moved to sit down next to him, Arthur began to say something, then checked himself. He let emotions flood his face as he thought of what to say next-insecurity, hope, fear of rejection. "Why did you pick me to sing that song with?" And while as Kurt he was asking about a duet, as Arthur he was asking more, asking about why Alfred left him, why he revolted, why he came back.

Alfred was rendered speechless for a moment. It was obvious to see that what he was about to say was important, both in and out of character. They had discussed this before, but this seemingly innocuous exchange between their characters brought out the omnipresent need for reassurance-for Alfred, reassurance that he was forgiven for leaving, and for Arthur, reassurance that he wouldn't do it again. As Alfred spoke, the affection in his face was genuine and even Gilbert, who was notoriously bad at reading the atmosphere, could hear the undertones in his words.

"Kurt (Arthur), there is a moment, where you say to yourself, 'Oh, there you are (right across the pond). I've been looking for you…forever (since before the revolution).'" He awkwardly edged closer and tentatively covered Arthur's hand. And although they had long since worked out their issues and been lovers for decades, the stress of confession and fear of rejection were still easily conveyed in Alfred's face. "Watching you sing Blackbird this week…that was the moment for me. About you. (There was no one moment for Alfred. He just woke up one morning and suddenly everything he felt made perfect sense in that awkward in love with your former guardian kind of way)" His voice trembled with emotion as he continued. "You move me, Kurt (Arthur), and this duet would just be an excuse to spend more time with you (Now that I'm independent, I'll never have to leave you again)."

They stood transfixed as they captured that cliché type of movie moment where the main characters stare silently into each other's eyes. Then Alfred leaned forward and kissed Arthur, in a tentative, questioning kind of way. And when Arthur didn't pull away, but simply tensed up in shock and disbelief, he let the contact linger, leisurely pulling away to gauge the reaction.

Alfred sat back, at a loss for what to say after such an emotionally charged confession. He laughed nervously, not even bothering to try to put on any affected charm. "We should…we should probably practice."

Finally, Arthur's face changed from the expression of somewhat petrified shock that he had worn throughout Alfred's confession to one of elated playfulness. With a new burst of confidence, he shot back, "I thought we were." His British accent only accentuated the cheeky flirtatiousness of the situation, and the lines between actor and character dissolved as the names of the characters became immaterial.

Alfred, for lack of a better word, pounced on Arthur, who was completely receptive to this turn of events.

This was where the Glee episode had done a cruel little scene change, dashing the hopes of many a fangirl for a full fledged gay makeout scene. Gilbert's video, on the other hand, did not.


Gilbert had thought that squee-ing was only an internet phenomenon, but Elizabeta had proved him wrong. After the video was over, she took the chance to pounce on him.

"That is the most wonderful, romantic thing a guy has ever done for me!"

"So, better than the symphony Roderich wrote you, or the flowers I covered your room with?"

"Roderich's symphony was stuffy, and I still swear he was thinking about Vash when he wrote it. And you're probably right. I love my video, but it's still a close second to your week of camera confessions."

Yes, I know, sappy ending is sappy. I couldn't resist! You know what else would make for an adorably sappy ending to this fic? Reviews! 3