Hate

Alfred blinked, his eyesight having gone fuzzy from the sudden loss of his glasses.

"England," he said, a slight whine in his voice, "Give me my glasses back!"

Alfred squinted, trying to see Arthur. Arthur was just out of his arm-range and was inspecting the glasses.

"England, I can't see without those!"

"I know they're just for show, America."

"They're not just for show!" Alfred snapped, "I really can't see without them!"

"Please, England, give Alfred his glasses back. He really can't see without them, like me." Mathew said, looking imploringly at the elder country. Arthur sighed and handed the glasses back to Alfred, who thanked him quietly and put his glasses back on.

"America!" Someone in the other room called.

"Coming!" He shouted back, running off.

"England?"

"Yes, Mathew?"

"Why do you act that way towards Alfred? You call me Mathew, but you call him America, and you're always fighting with him."

Arthur looked towards the door Alfred had run off through and said,

"He's not like he used to be."

Alfred sighed when he got home and flung his jacket onto the floor. Toris came up, a worried look on his face, and went to pick up the jacket.

"Leave it there, Lithuania; I'll get it later."

Toris stood straight up again, and watched Alfred's back. Alfred headed for the kitchen, and Toris followed.

"America, are you okay?"

"I guess. Did you cook me dinner again, or do I need to cook my own?"

"I made you dinner. What's wrong?"

"Thanks. Nothing's wrong. Nothing more than normal."

"What happened, America? You're in such a bad mood."

"England still hates me. I can tell."

"England hates you? Why would he still hate you? You helped him in World War One and in World War Two. You can't tell me that he's still holding a grudge about your Revolution."

"He is. I can tell. He hates me so much."

Alfred sat down at the table, his head in his hands.

"I don't know what to do about it. I don't want England to be mad at me. I've never wanted England to be mad at me. God, Lithuania, what should I do?"

"Talk to England about it. That's probably the best thing to do."

"Oh, that would be a fun conversation," Alfred said, sarcasm heavily laced through his voice, "'Hey, England, I know that you still hate me, but I want you to know that I would like to be friends'. He'd punch me! Or something of the sort. I don't want to see the hate in his eyes anymore. I just don't want to see him at all anymore. It just hurts now."

"Do you love him, America?"

America lifted his head up suddenly, an almost blank look at his face.

"No, I can't love him. He's my older brother, that's incest. And he's a guy."

"That doesn't stop love, America. It's okay if you do love him. I won't judge you."

There was silence in the kitchen as Toris finished getting America's plate together.

"Arthur, Quel est mauvais?" Francis asked a quiet Arthur. Arthur, in some vain hope that Francis might leave him alone, ignored him.

"Arthur?" Francis asked, getting worried, "England, really, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Arthur said, "So did you hear about the football match that's going on next week between Argentina and Brazil?"

"Don't change the subject, cher. What's wrong with you? I'm not going to leave you alone until you tell me."

Arthur sighed, and then said,

"America must really hate me. I'm so mean to him. It's just I don't know exactly how to act around him anymore. Ever since he had his revolution… I've never been able too. And I…"

"You love him, right?"

Arthur looked down at his lap.

"Yes," he whispered.

"Then tell him when he comes to the next meeting."

Arthur looked at him incredulously.

"And have him turn me down and tell everyone? No."

"He doesn't act like he hates you."

"He needs my trade."

"He doesn't need any outside help. He has tons of land that can be used for anything. He wants to have trade with you, and maybe even have a relationship. It might be strained now, but if you try to have a better one with him, even if it's not as lovers, it will get better."

Arthur looked at Francis in a skeptical way.

"Who are you and what have you done with France?"

Francis laughed.

"I've had lots of lovers, cher. I have experience with this sort of thing."

Arthur sighed and put his head down on the table, a groan coming out of his mouth.

"I don't want to hear about your escapades, Francis."

"I have a UN meeting today, Lithuania." Alfred said, throwing his jacket on and trying up his boots.

"Are you going to talk to England?"

Alfred was silent for a moment, before saying quietly,

"No."

The front door was closed behind him. Toris stood staring at the door for a long time, before returning to his work.

'Talk to him!' Francis mouthed to Arthur from across the room. Arthur ignored him, and sat down next to Ludwig, one of the few countries with a shred of sanity. Francis through his hands up in the air as a sign of giving up and sat down next to Matthew. This act went completely unnoticed in the pre-meeting chaos. The meeting had just started when Alfred came bursting through the door. He was panting and his face flushed red. This was obviously from running, but Arthur could think of some things that would also cause this to happen.

He really should spend less time with Francis.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Alfred managed out between gasps for air. He sat down next on the other side of Matthew, and flung an arm around Matthew's shoulders. Matthew, turning a bright red, whispered something to him and Alfred just smiled back.

Arthur felt his heart drop, wondering when Matthew and Alfred had gotten close that close. He found it hard to pay attention to the meeting, for once, with Francis shooting him looks that obviously said "See what's happening because you won't talk to him?" and trying to see what exactly was going on between Matthew and Alfred. Luckily he was not asked for an opinion on anything today. The meeting was over with fairly quickly, and Arthur, not wanting to see Alfred anymore, practically ran out of the room.

Alfred watched Arthur run out of the meeting room, and sighed heavily. Arthur had been glaring at him through the whole meeting.

"Is something wrong, Alfred?" Matthew asked, "You seem down."

"No, nothing's wrong."

Alfred stood up and stretched.

"Well, Lithuania's waiting for my back home, so I better get going. See ya, Matt."

Alfred waved as he left.

When he arrived at home, he hung his jacket up and slowly slipped off his boots.

"America?" Toris called from some room within the huge mansion Alfred had.

"Hi, Lithuania!" Alfred yelled back. He walked into his study and slowly closed the door behind him, locking it. He didn't feel like talking to Toris at the moment. Especially not about Arthur.

Around seven Toris knocked on the door, telling Alfred that it was time for dinner, but Alfred did not come out of the study. Soon after he heard Toris leave the plate at the door in case he got hungry later on. He did go retrieve it later, after Toris had gone to bed and he couldn't ignore his stomach any longer. It was a homemade hamburger. Alfred thanked Toris in his head, knowing how hard hamburgers could be to make, and retreated back into his study.

Arthur sighed and sat down in his favorite chair in the living room with a cup of tea. He took a sip of it and stared out the window. Rain was pouring, reflecting Arthur's poor mood.

'Stupid, stupid America. Can't you see that I love you? Do you really love Matthew? Are you two a couple?'

A streak of lightning flashed across the sky, making Arthur jump from surprise. His tea spilled all over him and he cussed quietly.

He stood up and went to change. He took the tea cup and put it in the sink. The house was quiet except for the sound of the rain on the ceiling and the sound of Arthur doing the dishes. Ireland, Scotland and Wales had gone to bed quite a long time ago, considering that it was around one in the morning. Arthur sighed quietly. He knew that he wouldn't be able to get to sleep. Not with the way his head was spinning.

'Damnit America! I hate how you can mess me up so badly!'

Arthur felt tears running down his face.

Alfred groaned as the sound of a telephone ringing woke him. He turned and looked at the clock next to his bed. It was four in the morning.

"America! Phone for you!" Toris yelled drowsily. Alfred rolled out of his bed and slowly retrieved the telephone from Toris.

"Hello?" he asked, his sleepiness sinking into his tone.

"America!" Francis called from the other end of the phone. Alfred groaned on the inside.

"Hello, France."

"I just have one question!"

"Yeah?"

"Do you like Arthur?"

"What?" Alfred yelled into the phone.

"Ouch, America, that hurt my ear."

"What kind of question was that?"

"A question I would like an answer to."

"It's none of your business!" said Alfred, almost hanging up the phone.

"Well, I was just curious. The way you act around..."

"So what if I do? I'm allowed to love him!" Alfred said, hanging up the phone before Francis could reply. He tossed it uncaringly onto a seat and started back up the stairs to his room.

"What did France want?" Toris asked, curiosity showing on his face.

"He wanted to know if I liked England. Although I have no idea why he would want to know something that. He's a stupid old pervert, making me get out of bed so early."

"Maybe England asked him to call you."

"England wouldn't do that," said Alfred, his already bad mood worsening, "He was glaring at me all throughout the UN meeting. Why would he care what I thought about him? I'm going back to bed, Lithuania. Good night."

"Hé, Arthur!"

Arthur, who was talking to Matthew, took a deep breath and continued, trying to ignore Francis. It worked just about as well now as it did before.

"Arthur! Guess what Alfred just told me."

"What?" snapped Arthur, angry at being interrupted. Matthew faded slightly into the background, not wanting to invoke Arthur's wrath.

"Alfred told me he loved you!"

Matthew blinked in surprise, and was about to respond, but Arthur cut him off, and he stayed silent.

"Francis, stop bothering me about this! I know he hates me. I'll have to learn to live with that! I have been living with it for over two hundred years."

"Is that what you're in a bad mood about, England?" Matthew asked, "He's been calling me on the phone for the past week, and telling me how horrible he feels because he thinks that you hate him."

Arthur looked from Matthew to Francis and back before saying,

"I think that I need to go see America."

"That's probably a good idea," Matthew said.

The doorbell rang, but Alfred did not move, knowing that Toris would get it and, hopefully, turn them away. There was silence for a little while, and then a knocking on his study door.

"Yeah, Lithuania?" he called through the door. The door opened and closed and a quiet voice said,

"I'm not Lithuania, Alfred."

Alfred turned to see Arthur standing where he had assumed Toris to be.

"En-England? What are you doing here? Look, whatever I did to make you mad last meeting, I'm sorry!"

"What are you talking about? I wasn't mad at you."

"Then why were you glaring at me?"

"I wasn't. I was glaring at Francis, who was sitting next to Matthew, who was sitting next to you. But you should know that, considering… Look, I didn't come here to fight with you about stupid things. I came here to tell you that although you may think that I hate, I don't. In fact, I," Arthur paused for a second and silence fell on the room. Alfred pleaded with him to go on with his eyes. "I love you, Alfred."

Three seconds was all it took for Arthur to find himself in a hug.

"I love you too," Alfred whispered in Arthur's ear, "I love you so much."

Matthew and Francis watched Arthur run off to talk to Alfred.

"France?"

"Yes, cher?"

"Why did you help England and Alfred? I know you hate England, so…"

"Well, cher, I was tired of them hanging around you because they wouldn't hang around each other. I want you all to myself."

Francis gave Mathew a quick peck on the cheek, making Matthew turn a bright red.

"That, and you probably would not have been too happy with me if I hadn't helped."

Author's Note: I don't have any knowledge of French what-so-ever, so if anything is wrong, tell me and I'll fix it.

About the very, very slight FrancexCanada at the end, well, I'm not really into that pairing, but yeah...

And yes, although I couldn't fit it in, America called Canada. Matthew's very quiet.

Hetalia = Not mine.