Ah, well, the introduction should be first, but I haven't written anything for the introduction yet. The first few of these were written a while ago, and these are mainly written when I get plot blocked for the current FrUk story that I'm writing, which I will finish before uploading it on to here, but while waiting, I decided that I should upload a few of my one-shots to prove that I am alive, even if I'm not working on my DRoP story. The characters may seem slightly OOC, but I try my best. So, without further ado, I give you all Chapter One, Love~

Paring: RusAme


Love

Alfred puffed out a breath as he leaned back in his chair, contemplating the question of the paper he was supposed to be writing. What is love to you? The teacher hadn't given a page requirement, and he didn't really feel like doing the assignment. He could just copy off of Mattie, after all, they were brothers, Suppose we have love. He rolled his eyes, All the joys of brotherly love. He laughed lightly as he contemplated his brother, yes, he did love his brother, even if Matthew was a bit of a push over, and didn't speak up for himself. Would've been easier if Ms. Mcintosh has at least specified which type of love. The junior boy snorted as he stood, leaving the blank paper at his desk.

Alfred approached the window, staring out of it. Ah, there was Arthur, having another fight with Francis. We have sort of a father son relationship, so that's love too. He frowned, before tilting his head as he watched Arthur finally relent to what seemed to be Francis apologizing, returning back inside the house with him. He frowned as his stomach growled, this was the problem with being home on the weekend alone, no one was there to cook for him, which mean he either had to cook for himself, or muster up the energy to go get himself McDonald's instead of sending someone out for him.

He scooped up his keys from the counter and headed to his car, starting it before glancing over at the passenger seat, arching an eyebrow as he observed a leather jacket. Ivan must've left it when I drove him home yesterday. He mused, smiling slightly at the thought of the tall Russian, beginning to drive. When he'd first met the other boy, he hadn't liked him much, after all Ivan had been in most of his classes and proved to be one of the only sources of competition for him. Then there was the fact that he was on the hockey team with Matthew, but that didn't matter anymore after they'd been forced into partnership for a history assignment on comparing the conditions of two separate countries while they were at war with each other.


"So, Ivan," Alfred began, deliberately mispronouncing the other's name as Eye-ven as he plopped down in the seat next to the Russian, "I don't want to work with you, and you don't want to work with me. So I suggest we just pick a war, and stick to one country so we don't gotta talk to each other." He rested his chin on his hand as he placed his elbow on Ivan's desk. "And, since I'm feeling generous today, I'll let you pick the war and the country you want to do, 'kay?"

"Da, fine." Ivan's expression was blank, although he brushed Alfred's elbow from his desk with mild annoyance, causing a smirk to blossom on Alfred's face. "The Cold War," He declared, earning a rolling of Alfred's eyes at the most stereotypical war that could be chosen for the two; however what he said next caught Alfred off guard. "I will be taking America during the war." Alfred straightened, a confused look overtaking his features, and a small smile tugging up the corners of Ivan's lips, "Don't look so confused, Fredka, it will offer me a challenge. Now, don't make little Matthew do all of the work." Ivan stood as the bell rang, "I need him for the hockey game the night before the project is due." With that, Ivan vacated the room, leaving Alfred to sit there in silence.


Alfred scoffed slightly at the memory, rolling his eyes. He had actually ended up getting together with Ivan to go over the project seeing as he wasn't able to find much of anything online about Russia during the Cold War, well, and the fact that he was to lazy to actually try and search, which made him wonder how he actually did so well in his classes. Blue eyes blinked as he parked, taking in where he was, "Huh," Alfred turned off his car, grabbed the jacket, and headed to the doors of the ice rink. Most of the players had left already, and he was actually informed by one of them that his brother was already headed back home. He opened the door to the locker room in time to see Ivan slip on a shirt, a smirk toying along the edges of his mouth as he took in the ruffled hair of his boyfriend, he still got slightly nervous thinking about it that way even though it had been a couple of months. "Can barely keep a shirt on around me, can you?" He teased, heading over and tossing the leather jacket to the other.

"Oh, thank you, I was trying to remember where I left it." Ivan smiled slipping the jacket on over his white shirt, causing Alfred's pulse to pick up slightly. He didn't want to admit it, but he loved Ivan's smile. "You haven't been bothering Arthur or Kiku all day today since I haven't been able to occupy your time, have you?"

"Aw, shut up," Alfred lightly shoved Ivan, rolling his eyes as he turned away, "I figured I could give you a ride, since your car is being repaired-and no, it was not my fault that it got screwed up while I was driving it. I swear, that pot hole is a ninja. Yao and Kiku must've gotten a hold of it and-hey!" He protested, ducking as a hand messed up his hair, turning around and glaring playfully at Ivan from behind his glasses. "It's so not cool to do that to a hero."

"Da, but it's the only way to get you to…ah…'shut your face' Fredka." Ivan grinned, snitching the blonde's keys, "And I think I will be driving." He unlocked Alfred's car, tossing his stuff in the back seat as Alfred got in the passenger's seat. "Have you gotten started on the English paper yet?" Ivan questioned as he started the car, rolling his eyes as a negative grumble came from the American. "Then I don't know if I can spend tomorrow with you, after all, I won't be held responsible for your procrastination." He tutted, pulling into his driveway.

"Aw, c'mon Vanya," Alfred whined, getting out as the other got his stuff from the back, "If I promise to finish it tonight, then will you come over tomorrow?" He pouted, crossing his arms as he looked down at his feet, acting childish to see if he could get the response he wanted. Alfred smirked lightly as he felt his chin tilted up, and lips pressed against his own. Of course he got the response he wanted, Alfred F. Jones always won, he kissed the Russian back before he pulled away, resuming the pout quickly, before questioning Ivan again, "Is that a yes?"

Ivan rolled his eyes, "Da, Fredka. Just get it done." He turned, heading into the house as Alfred got back into his car, starting it and heading back to his house. There were so many things he loved about the boy, even if he wasn't quite sure if this was a regular high school relationship or not. He loved Ivan's smile, the way the elder allowed himself to be manipulated by Alfred, his hair after practice, the faraway look Ivan's eyes were overcome with when he was lost in thought, the passion in his voice when he talked about something that boiled his blood; the list could go on and on. Alfred parked his car, quickly making his way back to his room and plopping down at his desk again, picking up his pencil to scribble a quick response on the piece of paper: Love is pancakes drowned in maple syrup, McDonald's after Arthur tries to convince me that he is a good cook, but most importantly, Love is Ivan.