A/N: Wow! I can't believe I'm actually writing this! I've always had a desire to write fanfiction, and I'm finally getting started! Please don't be harsh, although constructive criticism would always be welcomed. I look forward to writing for all of you lovely people! ~
Disclaimer: All I have is the power of love. And (checks in pockets) …lint. -shot-
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"Well, this feels like high school, but nothing's new. Every other boy tries talking to you." –'High School' by The Friday Night Boys.
--
Alfred Jones giggled in sheer delight as he crept lightly across the carpeted floor of his brother's room, watching the sleeping Canadian's face warily for any sign of movement. The scheming American was nearly shaking in excitement, all the way from the gravity-defying cowlick bobbing up and down to his toes, which were rather cozily clad in Superman-themed socks. Breathing very quietly so as not to disturb his soon-to-be unfortunate victim, Alfred practically tiptoed past the dresser, on which a glowing digital alarm clock advertised the current time of 6:28 a.m.
The dark room was completely still, save for the blonde's slow but steady movement. Said boy nearly cackled in glee as he finally reached the bedside without incident, kneeling softly and staring at his prey's sleeping form. Alfred reached into his pocket and retrieved the item that would make his normally calm brother's morning considerably less peaceful.
He crooned ever-so-quietly, "Matthew~ Good morning~" As expected, the unconscious blonde didn't stir. Alfred almost let a laugh escape his throat, catching himself in the nick of time (as any true hero would). The other boy just slept on, shallow breathing just barely audible to the schemer at his bedside.
Now it was time for the risky phase of Alfred's operation. Extending a hand out gradually, careful not to make any jarring motions, the blonde gently took hold of Matthew's slim wrist, handling the appendage with extreme caution. He mentally willed himself to not wake up the other as he delicately placed the object in his own, larger hand, into the smaller one of his brother.
After this step was completed successfully, the tall American took in several consecutive deep breaths, hoping that he wouldn't laugh or make any sounds on his departure. Lightly stepping over the little white bear dozing silently on his master's floor, Alfred somehow managed to do just that, slipping out of the door with a huge victory grin plastered onto his face.
He had gained confidence because of his apparent prowess, and now the blonde ran to the kitchen, taking the long flight of stairs two, even three at a time.
Bolting into the kitchen (and ignoring the bemused look on his father's face), he grabbed the black and silver home phone out of its cradle, the violent motion tipping over a spice jar. He dialed in his own cell number with practiced ease that only comes from years of one losing their cell phone in various odd locations in and around the house. Alfred drummed his fingers impatiently, laughing hysterically only when he heard resounding shrieks emit from the very bedroom he had left just moments before. The screams of abject terror were only heightened by the ringtone Alfred heard playing full blast in the background.
"I KNOW YOU WANT ME/ YOU KNOW I WANT 'CHA/ I KNOW YOU WANT M-" The nearly-deafening song came to an abrupt halt as Matthew clicked the 'answer call' button quickly, desperate for an end to the horror he had suffered. Alfred, eager to continue the prank and relish the moment even further, immediately cooked up a new plot for the unfortunate Canadian (who was trying to avoid cardiac arrest).
After quite a few frazzled gasps and pants from the other line, Matthew said, "Y-Yes, who is it?" His brother then answered softly, taking care to disguise his voice or he would be caught already.
Whispering, Alfred said hoarsely, "Yeah, can you take a message for me?" He could practically hear the teen's confusion as he said, "But I'm-" "Hey kid, just do it." This time his voice went even lower, and the blonde smiled wickedly as he heard the telltale clicks of Matthew turning up the phone's volume. Now was the time to act.
"Well, you see…" Alfred went so quiet that the Canadian was just jamming down the volume up key. Inhaling deeply, the blonde American screamed, "GOOD MORNING, MATT!"
A potent silence filled the ears of both parties, before a resonant thud sounded from Matthew's end of the line. Alfred cackled once more as he hung up. Turning around, the self-proclaimed hero said, "Well… Time for some waffles. Too bad Mattie can't join me." Alfred ate the waffles set out on the counter, completely oblivious to the blank stare he was receiving from his father, whose mouth was agape at the cruelty.
--
Matthew Williams' eyes fluttered open slowly, and immediately the smaller blonde was aware of three things. Kumajiro was sitting quite happily on his face. His head hurt like a bitch. And Alfred would pay.
Dragging himself back onto his feet, the Canadian white-knuckled the dresser's sharp edge for balance as his already-bleary morning vision spun. Clutching his throbbing blonde head and whimpering loudly in distress, he swore he would get Al back for this. He just… wasn't sure how exactly he would get that to happen.
Well, now wasn't the right time to think of that, the boy realized. Glancing at the clock in a furtive state of alarm, Matthew nearly shrieked as he saw the time. It was, should the numbers read true, 8:05! He was five minutes late already? It was his first day of junior year, and with a sharp jolt of horror, he considered the all-too-real possibility of his new teachers getting a bad impression. Oh God, he would fail high school, and, and… He would never find a college to accept him, much less a job… Oh Alfred!!!
The small blonde sank back to the floor, breathing growing erratic from panic. Matthew began to hyperventilate as the Canadian's innate worrier reared its ugly head again, courtesy of countless years spent in Alfred's household and having to survive innumerable 'ninja attacks.' (And boy, was he glad that phase was over.)
Said blonde strolled ever-so nonchalantly into Matthew's room, eyes widening in fear as he saw the petite boy gasping for breath and clutching tightly onto the carpet, surprisingly sharp fingernails embedding themselves into the mohair fabric. Alfred yelled, "MATT? Shit, bro, calm down… Can you hear me? Breathe, Mattie."
Throughout the tirade of comforting words (which were doing nothing to improve the smaller twin's condition), Alfred was kneeling down and rubbing small circles into Matthew's back, blue eyes welling up with tears of concern. Through his gasps, the Canadian forced a sentence out through his clenched teeth.
"Al… fred… Damn you, you… bastard… Late… and…" He became less and less coherent as he coughed, mind working overtime to try and soothe himself. The worrying American's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Late? What did he mean by that? Oh, maybe it was…
"Um, Mattie…" Alfred began quite awkwardly, "Sorry, but I set that late weeks ago to scare you. Guess it didn't really work during the summer, but-" "YOU WHAT?" shrieked the practically livid blonde as his breathing returned to its normal state rapidly.
Leaping to his feet, the younger teen wrapped his hands around Alfred's tan neck, screaming profanities and general wishes of bodily harm in unpleasant ways (Alfred was fairly sure that he heard a pick ax mentioned). The furious brother ended his expression of rage with a hard slap to the face as the Canadian stalked off, mumbling about taking a shower before he really was late.
Alfred just chuckled at Matthew's anger, rubbing his bright-red cheek, and lightly picked up Kumajiro, giggling as the small creature tried to nip his hand. He kissed the bear softly on its furry white head and whispered, "Now, your master isn't very nice this morning, is he." The polar bear just snorted.
--
Matthew sighed in relief as he stepped into the shower, hot water immediately relaxing his tense shoulders. He frowned. Shoulders that shouldn't be tense this early in the morning anyway, he added bitterly. Still, the Canadian shook these kinds of negative thoughts and just tilted his head back, running his fingers through his wet hair.
As the blonde bent down to retrieve the shampoo bottle, he blushed a deep red as he saw the shirtless model on the front running a hand through his (obviously perfectly tousled) hair. Matthew bit his lip as he thought, 'No. We've been over this. I do not like men.'
He wondered who he was kidding.
But, even if he could tell his mom and dad… How on earth could he let Alfred know? Alfred, his perfect older brother, the straight-as-an-arrow hot guy who everyone loved, the varsity quarterback, the jock, the straight-F student, the stealing other guys' girlfriends type of person? And most of all… Senior class president.
As a social kind of guy (hell, he was drunk at another football player's house more than he was sober at home), Alfred would more than likely tell every single person in the whole school that Matthew Williams, his shy, invisible, nothing-of-a-little brother… was gay.
The small boy leaned against the shower wall and sighed again, the condensation feeling cold against his exposed back. He didn't have the heart to move. 'Alfred…'
--
Said American pulled on a dark navy shirt and stood in front of the mirror, gazing at his slender (while somehow still muscular) frame with an appraising eye. The tall blonde finally deemed the garment acceptable with a little smile. 'Damn,' he thought, 'Blue really is my color.'
Alfred turned on his heel to glance at the now-accurate clock on the dresser. The numbers read 7:31, as he was pleased to see. He wouldn't be late for his first day back, after all. Well, this was rather incongruous, as the jock had managed to be tardy every other first day. A line formed between his eyebrows as he considered the possibility that being on time would absolutely tarnish his amazing image. Perhaps showing up before 8:00 would be a bad move to make…
He didn't have time to finalize a decision before his younger brother came into the room (and it was in Matthew's room, mind you, that our fair hero was lost in thought) in search of a towel. The two blondes locked eyes, and the room went still. Matthew was speechless in horror; Alfred was just speechless period.
Finally breaking the suffocating silence with an earsplitting, "GET OUT!" and punctuating said remark with a threatening wave of his (albeit small) fist, the terrified, dripping-wet Canadian brother ran to his closet and swiftly grabbed a green bathrobe, clutching it to his body protectively. Really, of all the people to see him naked…
Alfred, still a bit stunned, somehow was able to stumble to the ajar door and out into the hall, where he promptly took a deep breath and sprinted to his room. Meanwhile, his younger brother stood trembling, both from the cold and from the shock. Matthew couldn't believe that had just happened to him, the boy numbly padding over to the maplewood door and shutting it with a click. The action seemed infinitely pointless by now.
Seconds later, he heard footsteps creaking up the wooden staircase leading to the hall, and the blonde quickly fastened his robe with a sturdy knot, opening the door slightly. His father stood awkwardly outside it, rubbing the back of his collared neck and looking quite frazzled. "I heard shouting… Did you two argue? Was it the prank he pulled on you this morning?"
Matthew took in a calming breath as he answered, "Non, papa, we're alright. It was just a little fight, it's pointless." Putting on his best forced smile, the violet-eyed teen added, "Alfred's just being a bit unreasonable right now."
This caused a shadow to pass over the businessman's face. "He is? Again? I'm going to have a talk with him about this behavior." This made his son giggle audibly, twisting a small lock of blonde hair around a slender pointer finger as he responded, "Bon, bon. Please do."
--
Alfred grumbled angrily as he marched Matthew to his car, grabbing his younger brother by the wrist with an uncharacteristic force behind the move. The smaller teen winced and whispered, "Al… You're hurting me."
The wrist-grabber in question merely brushed off the comment with a curt mumble of "Don't care…" Matthew cast his eyes downward, one obstinate blonde curl bouncing directly in front of his pink nose. He did feel, admittedly, a bit ashamed over how he had ratted out his brother to their father like that. The other boy had then been, consequently, the recipient of a long berating lecture that had most definitely set them back a few minutes. The Canadian wished he could just drive alone for what seemed like the billionth time.
Still sulking, Alfred opened the passenger's side door and nearly threw his brother in, the younger boy gasping in pain as his side hit the gear shift. Hard. The American looked like he was nearly on the verge of apologizing as he glanced at Matthew with a concerned eye, but he thought better of it and just slammed the door shut. He strode to the other side, a look of anger still etched on his face.
Climbing in with not the slightest air of grace about it, Alfred started the vehicle, engine roaring to life as the radio auto-started itself. Immediately, the speakers began pounding so loud, the pained blonde in the passenger's seat thought his eardrums would combust. Even if he had screamed in fright, it would have been in vain, for nothing was audible over the bassline's slow, steady thump thump.
And with a screech of tires, the two were off.
--
Matthew had found a way to tolerate the insanely loud music pounding out of the car's awfully abused sound system. If he popped his ears, and tilted his head just-so… It was possible to hear just a dull thudding sound. The resulting rhythm was actually quite relaxing, and in a manner of minutes the Canadian was deeply asleep, head lolling onto Alfred's cotton-clad shoulder with a little plop.
The older brother stiffened and tried to shrug off the dozing parasite, but soon found the task to be impossible, and therefore stopped his fruitless attempts and let Matthew regain his comfortable position with a resigned sigh. The younger boy slept on, violet eyes lightly closed.
The vehicle finally came to an abrupt halt in front of the school with another piercing shriek from the tires, which smoked slightly at the rough treatment. As Matthew's blonde head hit the window violently, he jolted awake and yelled, "Ow, damn!" He shot a look over at his brother, but faltered when he saw that the expression still lurked on his face.
Silently, the pair disembarked the car, grabbing their books and walking up to the quad, Hetalia High's epicenter. Alfred instantly let his face relax into a soft grin as he meshed with a large crowd who instantly loved him (shit, who didn't in this school?), and Matthew, disgusted with how much of a damn actor that boy was, stalked off to meet up with his best friend, Antonio.
The coffee-skinned boy did not realize he was being looked at, and so was propped up very lazily against a wall in the central breezeway, listening to his iPod and eating, of all things, a tomato. Violet eyes lit up as the junior noticed this, the boy's face cracking into a huge smile as he laughed and ran to see him. 'Some people never change.'
"'Toni! Over here!" The brunette, upon realizing his name was being called, took out his earbuds and glanced around, turning slowly. Big mistake.
Antonio was glomped ferociously from behind as his jubilant friend laughed lightly, saying, "Missed you!" He spun around and gathered up his petite blonde friend into a warm bear hug, chuckling and ruffling the smaller boy's hair. "Hola, Matt!" Matthew felt a little rush as he was called by his familiar nickname, grabbing the brunette's iPod hastily and pressing 'Now Playing' with a practiced hand.
As "Black Cat" by Mayday Parade flashed on the screen, Matthew looked fondly at the familiar cover art, thinking with a smile that Antonio really hadn't changed at all. The taller of the two gave the blonde an affectionate noogie, saying, "Dang man, you're still a little shorty! Nothing like Al…"
He trailed off as he noticed Matthew's face growing gloomy. Realizing his mistake, he backtracked frantically, swearing in Spanish under his breath as he did so and setting down his precious red tomato. "I'm sorry! I really am… Matt, I didn't even think abou-" "It's okay, 'Toni. You didn't mean it."
The tomato lover gave him a bashfully grateful look, chocolate eyes somber and remorseful. He knew what a sensitive topic Matthew's brother was to him…
With an awkward cough and a pat on the shoulder, Matthew broke the tense silence and said (in an unusually loud voice), "Yes, well, erm, let's get to first period. You have English, right?" Antonio mentally shook himself out of his reverie and replied, "Ah, y-yeah."
The blonde took his friend's wrist lightly and began to walk towards the large building to their right that housed the English and History classrooms. Matthew, being on the smaller side, was constantly jostled by the swarm of people moving to their respective classrooms. This continued for a while, until, in a burst of fanfare and abnormally loud laughter, the football players strutted by, making out with their girlfriends and glorifying his brother endlessly.
The horde, passing through the crowd like they weren't even there, had managed to break Matthew and Antonio's holds on each other, separating them quite effectively in the mass of students struggling to get inside before the bell.
A bit panicked, the Canadian yelled, "Antonio? 'Toni! Are you th-" He was silenced by long arms that were most certainly not the Spaniard's snaking themselves around his waist. Cold lips found their way to the blonde's ear as someone whispered, "Hey there, birdie. Lost your way?" There was a derisive chuckle.
Matthew turned red and wheeled around, but all he saw was the same crowd of people passing by, none of them even looking twice at him (as he was practically invisible, anyways). He was pondering who it had been when he was interrupted by a warm hand on his shoulder. Looking up, the violet-eyed boy saw only Antonio, staring at him in concern.
"You okay, querida?" "Eh?" "You look a little confused…" Matthew just shook his head. "I'm fine, really. C'mon, we're going to be late, 'Toni!" The other teen, still worried, allowed himself to be dragged into the cool building at last.
--
After much checking of maps and schedules, the odd pair finally stumbled into the correct room, approximately three seconds before the bell rang. Ignoring the strange looks they were garnering from their classmates, Antonio and Matthew sat down quickly, panting from the exertion of running frantically back and forth in the wing, traversing the huge flight of stairs more than once. The blonde took out a notebook as the teacher began to talk.
"My name is Mr. Edelstein. You may not call me by any other name, understood?" Though the already-bored class stayed silent as the grave, the tall brunette took this as a sign of assent, and droned on, pausing several times to fix his elaborate collar.
Though Matthew was a strong student, even he could not help but feel fatigue creeping up on him. Exhausted, he allowed his lavender eyes to roam the classroom absently, wondering if Alfred had a great teacher who absolutely loved him and would pass the jerk no matter what. Mentally, the blonde snorted. He probably did, it would just be his luck.
Damn, Mr. Edel-something still wasn't done? It had been nearly twenty minutes since the bell had tolled, and disregarding the small primping-pauses, there had been no stopping the man. Matthew looked around the room, surveying each and every face in an attempt spurred from boredom to see if there was anyone he knew in the class.
Let's see, there was Elizaveta, the pretty brunette who always giggled whenever she saw him and Antonio together and whipped out a camera (he wasn't so sure about her), Kiku, who usually requested copies of said pictures, a few other familiar faces such as Ludwig and Feliciano, and the rest were unknown to him.
Matthew jumped a bit as he saw that a boy sitting right behind him had eyes that were actually red. I mean, was that even possible? The snow-white hair made said eye color even more dubious. Perhaps the glowing crimson came from contacts? (That must be it, he decided.)
The boy he was looking at glanced up, saw him, and, before the petite blonde even had a chance to turn away, licked his lips. Matthew's eyes widened as he flushed like a beet and turned quickly, breathing just a bit faster as he struggled to pay attention to Mr… Mr… Okay, his name was impossible.
--
Thirty minutes later, class was nearly over, and the Canadian had let all thoughts of the white-haired teen escape him. That is, until he felt a hand tap his shoulder lightly. Reluctantly, the blonde looked back.
The other gave a big grin at the attention and immediately held up his notebook, in which surprisingly neat, large letters were scrawled in the margin. It read, "3:15 at The Point. You in, birdie?"
The nickname gave Matthew a jolt. Surprised, and a bit indignant, the boy whispered, "Y-You're the guy who-" "Matthew Williams!" yelled Mr. Edelstein. The blonde stiffened as he whirled around and responded innocently, "Yes?"
The teacher frowned at the behavior, saying, "Don't give me that! Pay attention, please." Matthew cast his eyes downward, muttering, "Okay." Mr. Edelstein, satiated, went on to describe (at much length) the importance of good study habits. Antonio gave his friend a sympathetic look, mouthing, "What's up?" The petite blonde, feeling resentment towards his 'friend' sitting behind him, just shook his head.
The teen considered the silverette's invitation, despite the trouble he had caused. Maybe he was actually a decent guy? After all, Matthew always had been the type of person to give others a chance… Coming to a decision, he picked up his pen and began to write his reply, scribbling quickly.
Upon the note's completion, he faked a yawn, bringing his hands up as if to stretch and dropping the small paper surreptitiously onto the desk behind him. The action, thankfully, went unnoticed by the frazzled Mr. Edelstein, who was now reading from some sort of syllabus in the most monotone voice Matthew had ever heard. A single white eyebrow was raised as the other picked up the message, unfolding it and reading the note under his desk. His face broke into a huge smile as he whispered, "Awesome."
Antonio looked quizzically at the two, feeling the beginnings of jealousy creep into the pit of his stomach. Who was the white-haired bastard, and why was he talking to Matt? Averting his dark eyes, he turned slightly so that he faced Mr. Edelstein again and steeled his jaw. It was nothing.
Before he could consider what the two's relations were, the bell rang shrilly and made all the sleepy students jump out of their seats, except the red-eyed boy, who just chuckled. Antonio glared as he leaned forward to whisper to the blonde, who blushed and laughed, hooking an arm around the taller student's shoulder.
As all the others vacated the room, so did Mr. Edelstein, a cup of coffee in one hand and lecture notes in the other (and oh, what fun next class would be…). The silverette finally spoke out loud to him and Matthew, as they were the only three left in the room. "Mein Gott, I thought that guy would never shut up! I'm Gilbert, by the way, birdie."
Matthew smiled and said, "H-Hello, Gilbert." Antonio looked darkly at the German, saying, "What were you talking to Matt about just now?" Said blonde opened his mouth to answer, but the other teen beat him to the punch, blowing off the inquiry with a casual, "Oh, so that's birdie's na-" "Don't call him that."
Gilbert just stared at the seething Spaniard, who had risen to his feet. Matthew wrung his hands nervously at the outburst, walking cautiously over to his friend and saying, "It's okay, 'Toni. Calm down."
Antonio gave him a questioning look before saying, "Fine. Come on, Matt." A forced smile was given to the red-eyed German before the petite blonde was led away hastily. Matthew gazed up at him as he said, "You didn't have to do that."
"He looked shifty. I dunno… Stay away from him." Yellow eyebrows delicately furrowed at the command. "But…" Antonio's eyes locked with his, and the Canadian shivered at the intensity of the stare. "He could be bad news. Don't let him near you."
--
Second and third period passed by in an almost dreamlike state for Matthew, who was lost in daydreams of what would happen after school. The Point was… a club. So would there be dancing? Talking? Drinking? He squirmed uncomfortably at the last option.
And anyway, he was only sixteen, nowhere near the legal age of 21… How on earth would they even get in? If it involved lying, well, he could only hope Alfred's talent for it had rubbed off on him (though it probably hadn't).
The thoughts were causing him to drift off, eyes absently locked onto his painting. It was only art class… surely nobody would notice if he were to stop working, right? Wrong.
A large glob of cyan paint that had been coagulating on the immobile end of his brush for nearly fifteen minutes chose that moment to drop, landing with a kind of squishing noise smack-dab onto the face of the woman the laboring blonde had spent a week and a half on over the summer as an extra-credit assignment.
Matthew said, "Fuck…" softly under his breath, jumping to his feet to retrieve paint thinner or something to remedy the situation. As he reached for the bottle, his hand met another's, and they both withdrew. "A-Ah, I'm sorry for…" He trailed off as he looked up and saw his brother.
Alfred chuckled and said, "It's all good." The younger of the two said somewhat caustically, "Well, you're in better spirits now, I see." His brother waved a hand dismissively, saying, "I'm over that, bro. Had a good day, so we're all cool, right?"
At the hopeful smile, Matthew's grudge melted a little, giving way to a small smile. "Yeah, Al. All good." Alfred flashed his signature hero-grin and gave the boy a thumbs-up, handing him the bottle of thinner. "You can have this. I'm too amazing for it, anyway."
They laughed quietly, Matthew beginning to walk back to his seat in the third row. The teen would have continued walking had his older brother not said, "So, I'm driving you home today, right?"
"Actually," the smaller boy's heart swelled a bit with pride, and he struggled to keep his smile under control, "I-I'm going to catch a ride with someone else. We're going to The Point."
Alfred said, "Woah, seriously?" He walked slowly toward his brother again, blue eyes full of suspicion. "Huh, with who?" Matthew blushed. "Someone named Gilbert." The jock's eyes went as wide as saucers as he loudly inquired (with absolutely no regard for anyone who might listen in), "Holy SHIT! Gilbert Beilschmidt?" "I… guess?"
The taller blonde gave an impatient huff, complete with eye roll and all. "God, Matt. Tall, whitish hair, freaky red eyes? That Gilbert?" Matthew nodded, tilting his head and asking, "You know him?"
"Know him? I love that dude! Good guy." The Canadian let out a relieved sigh. "Thank maple. I thought you might be enemies or something." "Nah, we're chill." Matthew smiled, happy that his brother approved of what might be a new friend. That is… his violet eyes flickered down sadly… If Antonio got past whatever their problem was.
He brushed the stray curl that never failed to bother him behind his ear, though he knew it was a pointless gesture. It would always bounce back. Sure enough, within seconds it sprung back with even more vigor than before. Alfred shook his head, smiling at the persistent cowlick. "Well, Matt, gotta get back to work. See you tonight, then." "Yeah."
And Matthew grabbed the white bottle, sitting down and losing himself in thoughts of the coming afternoon again. He couldn't help but grin.
--
LONG CHAPTER IS LONG. :D But at least I got the point across [Yes? No?]… Please tell me if any characters are OOC or anything; I hate that in a fic, and it wouldn't be right if mine was that way too. There will be a darker plot than there seems to be right now, don't be fooled by the humor in this chapter…
To clear up any possible confusion, some ages for you:
Matthew: 16
Alfred: 17
Gilbert:17 (held back sophomore year)
Antonio: 16
I think that's it. Next chapters (probably) won't be as long, but we'll see. I also have softball all this week and next, so don't expect the fastest updates ever.
My first fanfiction, so again, be nice when you hit that green button. :3
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