The two parts of the nation were exactly the same in all but one respect: they wore the same clothes, they spoke with the same accent, even their hair was cut in exactly the same way—but they were of different genders. England found it made his head hurt.

"Hello, Mr. England," said North Island—the girl. Her blue eyes flickered over England's body with a pleased glitter.

"I hope you find the weather of New Zealand to your liking," said South Island. He spoke with the same soft voice of his sister, and observed England with no visible emotion.

"It's wonderful," Arthur said, smiling politely. He missed his fantastical friends. "It reminds me of my own climate."

South gave a little smirk, but it was swallowed quickly up into his stoic visage. North smiled happily.

"I have a house all set up for you. It's right by the shore," she said. England found himself smiling sincerely along with her.

"Why, thank you. Could you show me to it?"

"Of course." North took his arm in her hand and began walking down the small path, South following a few paces behind them.

All the way to the house, North chatted with him easily, and England found he enjoyed the company. She was very pretty, in a rather androgynous way. Her blue eyes sparkled whenever she looked at him, and she had eyebrows that were almost exactly like his own. She confessed disappointment when they reached the house—"I wanted to talk to you more."

England placed a hand on her shoulder to look into her eyes. "How about we meet later tonight, for dinner? I can come after eight."

Her eyes shone with joy. "That'd be great! I know a wonderful restaurant—"

"Do you want to meet outside the house? You can show me to it."

"All right!" England watched from his steps as she skipped away, pausing only to grab her brother's arm and pull him behind her. England smiled and went inside the house, admiring its old-fashioned furnishings briefly before settling down in an armchair with his laptop to work.

Roughly five hours later, England put down his glass of beer—it was only his first, he would get to drink more on the date—and clicked the computer lid shut. He was glad for a respite; almost every five minutes his mind would drift to the New Zealand twins, especially North Island. She was pretty, and he couldn't get that happy laughter out of his head. Not that he wanted to.

He glanced, smiling, at the beer amidst the teacups, amused at the ways he tried to keep himself from growing mindlessly bored during work. First there was music—the Beatles were always a good choice—then he used caffeine, in either tea or coffee form, followed by alcohol. Usually, though, he managed to get through all the work his bosses assigned to him. This work tended to take the form of sending messages to other countries and keeping up with work in the United Nations, and was incredibly boring. At least he didn't have to deal with any revolutions or wars anymore—America seemed to be getting along fine on his own, China and Japan had their own problems, and France and Russia stayed in their respective places. He was glad of the vacation at the moment.

There was a knocking at the door, and England realized with a start he wasn't wearing anything nice for the date. He glanced down at the button-up shirt and dark pants he was wearing and decided it would have to do. Just add a jacket, cane, maybe a top hat, and I'll be fine. He followed actions to thoughts, after calling "Be there in a second!" and hearing a muffled "Okay!" in response.

Less than a minute later, England opened the door on New Zealand's South Island. She was wearing extremely short shorts and a little button-up vest over a white t-shirt. It showed off her slim figure rather pleasingly. England didn't really mind the fact that she was somewhat flat-chested—he only liked a female nation once every several decades. "You look nice," he told her. She smiled.

"Thank you," she said, her eyes sparkling again. She extended a lightly tanned hand. "Come on, I'll show you to the restaurant."

England smiled and took her hand, and they began walking down the path on the side of the road. The sun was setting, sending glittering waves of orange across the dark sea. The fading light shone pleasingly on North's blonde hair. England wanted to run his fingers through, to kiss those sparkling strands of gold, but not yet. He would have to wait until after the date, when she accepted an invitation…

The restaurant was small, low-key, and local. The atmosphere was comfortingly casual, and the servers smiled at you with that same sparkle in their eyes that England found so attractive in New Zealand.

"So, Mr. England…" she began.

"Call me Arthur," he said, looking kindly at her. She blushed.

"Arthur. What wine do you want?..."

The conversation started out casual, shallow, friendly. The wine they got was delicious, and Arthur found himself drinking more of it than he should have. But North drank it too, and with every glass, the conversation grew less awkward, they touched across the table more, they smiled more. Arthur wondered about her cold, blank brother, and asked a question.

"So, your brother… Is he always like that? Y'know, emotionless?" She laughed and shook her head.

"Oh, no… I think he's just mad that you've come and are upsetting 'everything'."

"Everything? Am I being a problem?"

North laughed again. "No, he's just being a fool."

After that, the subject was abandoned, and the conversation continued happily. It was two hours more before they left, laughing and talking loudly.

Arthur was surprised. He had expected the adolescent-esque New Zealands to be innocent, almost naïve, but he realized that North Island (at least) could handle getting drunk with a partner. He suspected Down Under, but didn't ask.

He missed when they reached his house, he just noticed the way the rooms passed in a blur and how he seemed to be steadily losing clothing until he collapsed in his bed in his underwear. Arthur stared up into New Zealand's eyes, which seemed to be sparkling brighter than ever. He was suddenly laughing, and the island laughed along with him, until both could barely breathe and she stepped away from the bed.

Arthur grinned, turning to watch, as North unbuttoned and pulled off the vest. He observed joyfully as the t-shirt followed, revealing the young man's smooth, wiry torso—


Arthur blinked.

"Y-you're South. South Island."

"Yup." He leaned over him, grinning. "Was real hard to act out of character when you arrived, but it's worth it now." South's fingers teased with the belt loops on the shorts, and then the shorts slipped down over the shapely legs. Nice, shapely legs. Legs that still made Arthur want to do the island nation.

"Well…" Arthur wanted to deny the boy. This was probably his first time, anyways, and England wasn't much with virgins… But, other than the possessing of masculine… qualities, he was the same as his sister. And everything in his plans had been prepared for a girl…

South rested one knee on the edge of the bed. "Please? I just want to know what it's like. I've never done it before, not even with Australia, or any of the islands. And you have experience, don't you?"

"You're only a young'un," Arthur said. "You could get hurt… I think…" At the moment, he couldn't recall his very first sexual experience. On the bottom. He suspected Scotland and some form of alcoholic beverage.

South's eyes sparkled again, this time with pleading. He wanted Arthur to take him so much it hurt, in ways that Arthur probably knew more about that he did.

Arthur sat up. "All right," he grunted, then New Zealand was lying on the bed with his underpants off and Arthur straddling above him. Arthur paused a moment to pull off his underpants—emblazoned with the British flag—then bent down closer to South's body. "What's your name? Human name."

"Walter," he said, feeling his heart begin to beat even faster.

"All right, Walter… I don't think either of us is fully ready at the moment."

"I am ready."

"Not physically." Arthur gestured. "You don't have a full erection yet."

"Oh," Walter said, feeling slightly stupid.

"I'll help you with that." Without any more preamble, Arthur bent down to suck at Walter's cock. The touch of his mouth immediately made Walter cry out in excitement, his back arching and face reddening. Arthur didn't just stop at putting his mouth around it, though—he pushed at the tip with his tongue, making the younger nation shudder with arousal. It didn't take long for him to get fully up, and by then Arthur's saliva was mixing with the dampness beginning to form around Walter's vital regions.

Arthur withdrew, smiling slightly. The sight of New Zealand's body, aroused and ready for him to penetrate, was so wonderfully irresistible. He was drunk; he knew that, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was getting this, reaching that delicious pinnacle of physicality that was the only thing that kept many nations going through hard times. He slipped his hands beneath South's thighs and pushed them up. The knees locked automatically around his hips, and he smiled as he freed his hands to explore more.

Walter twitched suddenly as one of Arthur's fingers slid up inside him, poking around and touching all those spots that made him want to die—but in a good way, the best way. He gasped as another finger joined that one, and the movements joined in a deafening concert of pleasure. It stayed that way—Arthur's fingers inside of him, touching him in ways that he loved, and Arthur's other hand guiding his own to the English places that would soon join with his own—for a good little while, but then suddenly the hands withdrew. "Ready?" Arthur whispered, and that was all the warning he gave. Walter couldn't even respond before Arthur shoved into him, pushing his Big Ben inside of New Zealand.

Arthur groaned in pleasure, feeling the warmth of another country's flesh around him, something he hadn't felt for what seemed like ages. Memories of Japan and Ireland came back, but he pushed them away to enjoy what was happening now. "Ah—Arthur—," Walter gasped. "Go—can't—" Arthur tried to piece together what the young'un had said, but then deduced it probably was something related to what he was just about to do.

He leaned over, grasping his lover's hands for balance, and began thrusting, deep into South's body. He felt his own self growing slick, and the shaft traveled faster up the space. He found that spot he'd reached with his fingers earlier and tried to aim for that, but Walter was crying out and jerking as he began to come. With a little more pressure, he managed to keep him more still and felt himself touching the spot more often, striking it harder each time. There was a sudden spray of warm liquid all over their lower bodies, and Walter's shuddering sort of stilled. Arthur ignored it and kept fucking him until he came, too, and had to withdraw, panting.

He lay down next to his lover, pulling up the sheets over both of them. Walter was gasping for breath, his blue eyes fixed on the ceiling. "Wow…"

"You okay, kid?" Walter barely turned his head to look at Arthur.

"That… was amazing."

Arthur nodded. "Good for you." He paused to think. "You might have a little trouble walking tomorrow, if I fucked you hard enough."

"I… I think it was enough."

Arthur shrugged and rolled over, ignoring the wet sheets. He'd have some probably awkward dreams tonight. But it didn't really matter, that much. He'd found a new lover for the moment.

North Island's secret smiles at the two of them the next morning worried England. He was too irritated at her for pretending to fall in love with him that first morning to do so.

However, it seemed to be driving South nuts. After about half an hour of spending time with her and their boss, he burst out, "All right, what is it, Kathy? You've been giving us weird looks for the entire morning!"

Her smile became a broad grin at his anger. She sprang up, asked their boss to excuse them, and proceeded to drag them off into a side room.

The side room had a television and several tapes that looked suspiciously like security tapes.

North skipped over to the desk and produced a tape from the stack of them on the desk. She held it up, grinned, and turned to the telly and pushed it in the slot. England had a sudden, sickening feeling he knew what it was—and he knew what North Island was, too. South Island hadn't caught on yet and was gaping at the screen.

"We are such bloody idiots," England muttered as the video began to play.

Okay! This is officially my first almost-pure smutty fanfic! What do you think?

I'm proud of it, for several reasons; the first is shown above, the second is that it takes care of New Zealand's apparent lack of gender, and the third that I finished it at 1 in the morning without the aid of any caffiene whatsoever. Wow. Oh yeah, and Hetalia needs more countries that are yaoi fangirls. I mean, how can you not be a yaoi fangirl if you are surrounded by about two hundred guys, all of which are pure bishonen?