School Plays

A/N: Hey! Real quick, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Concentration Maple-ation! I hope you have an amazing b-day~

There really was nothing like Hetalia World High School's annual mash-up musical.

It was a mash-up because...well...

Put it this way: this year's play was 'Sleeping Cinderella and the Seven Frogs feat. ALADDIN.'

Totes created by Feliks, y'know?

Because the idea had been going on for decades, it came as no surprise to the students when they were first informed of the production on the morning announcements two months ago. It was practically tradition. In fact, most had been ecstatic; who wouldn't want to wear frog costumes?

That aside, tryouts yielded an unprecedented number of hopefuls. It was so shocking that the drama teacher dropped his clipboard when he first entered the auditorium where auditions were being held.

There were about eight.

Yeah, they were expecting a lot more to want to participate.

After initially swearing up a storm and destroying half the props as he stomped towards the center of the stage where he could get his student's attention, Drama Teacher finally managed to figure out why exactly nobody wanted to join the cast:

The roles of the seven frogs had already been filled.

I know, right?

So to make up for this sad fact, Drama Teacher called all his students into his classroom one rainy Thursday and told them that they were all now part of his play, and could the leads please stand next to each other so he could see how hot they looked together, 'kay, thanks. The students would have caused a major riot had not the teacher threatened to sic the scary Russian junior on them, who, for whatever reason, was always part of his plays.

Needless to say, they shut up quite nicely after that, and the leads were quick to scurry to the front.

Drama Teacher smirked as he inspected them, slowly circling their line like a wolf trying to pick out the juiciest little bunny from the lot.

"Mmm...We're going to have a lot fun, aren't we?"

"That was quite magnifique, non?" Francis airily commented after the clapping died down. The main scene of the night—Cinderella was killed by the golden apple while Aladdin ran away with the Beast (who was really the Genie in disguise, but shh, don't tell him!) via the red dragon—had just ended, and now the audience buzzed with excitement as they waited for the conclusion.

"Right? Too bad I wasn't part of it; then it would be fucking awesome..."

"Lovi was amazing, wasn't he?" squealed Antonio to their right, clasping his hands together as his eyes shone bright with excitement. "I didn't know mi tomate could sing!"

"That was a pretty sexy rendition of 'Be Prepared'..."

"...Don't ever use sexy to describe my Lovi again, amigo~"

"But I didn't call him—"

"Ooh! Maybe I could get him to sing for me later when we get home..." Antonio sighed, closing his eyes as he imagined his beautiful Lovino crawling on top of him, clad in his Prince's outfit, murmuring "Oh, yes, my teeth and ambitions are bared...be prepared, Tonio~"

"Riiight," snorted Gilbert, shattering the Spaniard's little fantasy (Lovi was just about to bite him, too!) as he glanced at the unmoving curtains, secretly desperate to know what would happen next. But he was too awesome to admit that. Such was life. "Singing. I'm sure that's all you two'll be doing tonight."

"What else would we be doing, Gilbert?" Antonio asked innocently, widening his eyes. Of course, the albino couldn't actually see that, considering the place was still pitch black. But still, he could imagine it.

"Let it go, Toni."

"Oh, I know! Sex!" That earned them laughter from the row in front.

Gilbert was just about to loudly add another completely lewd comment that would've finished off their giggling eavesdroppers when the lights came back on. Granted, it was very dim, and centered solely on the figure that was walking to the center of the stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls...You are all invited to witness the unification of our two royal heroes!" a very familiar, soft voice called out. Amidst the applause, the trio could pick out the loud whispers around them.

"How are they doing that?"

"Yeah, you'd think someone's onstage!"

"I hear the voice, but I don't see anyone..."

"Maybe it's magic?"

"Just for the narrator? Probably not. 'Sides, isn't Kirkland already one of leads?"

"Oh, yeah..."

Gilbert couldn't help but fume at those words; how dare they? How couldn't they see Mattie? He was right there! On the stage, in front of their eyes! Not to mention, he looked pretty fucking cute in his little tuxedo!

"GO MATTIE!" he suddenly roared, springing to his feet and punching the air. "YEAH!"

Well, that got everyone's attention.

People immediately started to take note of them, turning in their seats to give the standing Prussian amused, disbelieving looks. Francis slapped a palm to his forehead as whispers grew louder and less discreet. Antonio blinked up at his friend. Then he grinned, jumping to his feet and making a heart with his hands, extending them out to the stage as he yelled, "LOVI~! YOU'RE SO CUTE~! TE AMO!"

The laughter that followed rang throughout the auditorium, the sound bouncing off the walls. A few rows down, they could hear a couple of girls shrieking with delight in their seats. Gilbert smirked as he met the gaze of the flustered Matthew on stage. After giving him the thumbs-up, he threw an arm around his oblivious friend, who stood there with a happy grin on his face. Francis grabbed both his companions by their collars and pulled them to their seats.

"Mes amis, you are going to get us kicked out..."

"Aww, lighten up, Frenchie!"

When they all managed to settle down, it came to as a surprise to find that the stage had already been set up and the actors were already in position; it seemed that sometime after their little number, the scene had already began while everybody was still confused.

Right now, the Canadian had just walked off and Arthur Kirkland stood before them all, in a silver cloak, under a marble arch. White was everywhere, decorating the floors and even the background where there would normally be an intricate painting of the scene. Long, silk-like banners hung from the ceilings like spider webs, and for a moment, Gilbert was convinced they were in heaven.

That was, until Kirkland spoke.

"We are gathered here today to unify the two souls who have bravely risked their lives to save our world..." He opened his arms in welcome, staring solemnly at the audience before him. "May I have the princes come forth?"

On cue, two figures appeared from either side of the stage, fog lining their paths. On the right was the handsome Prince Charming, who had saved Cinderella before realizing she was a girl, and had insisted no thank you, he did not swing that way so please let go of his arm and leave him alone. Coming from the left was the other Prince Charming—the bad-ass one (though secretly caring inside) who had let the Genie go and wished for him to become the Beast so he could run away with Aladdin.

As far as actors went, they were Alvarez Fernandez-Carriedo and Lovino Vargas. Respectively.

Which was exactly why Antonio's mouth dropped open as he watched his own brother take his boyfriend's hand and lead him to their places, facing each other, in front of the Priest.

What was going on?

His eyes widened as Arthur began reciting the lines that sounded oddly similar to the ones said at real weddings. Panic set in when Alvarez held Lovino's hand and brought it to his lips for a quick kiss. Oh, no. No, no, no, no! Nobody told him his Lovi was getting married! And to his mean older brother of all people!

Before he knew it, he was seeing red.

"Now, is there anybody here who has any reasons at all as to why this couple may not be wed? Speak now or forever—"

"I OBJECT!"

"W-what?"

"Antoine!" hissed Francis as the attention was, once again, reverted back to them. Feliciano, five rows below, blinked up at the stage and nudged Ludwig, his very loud "Ve~ Luddy, we should get married, too~" sounding exceptionally louder than usual. That might have had something to do with the fact that the whole place was dead silent except Antonio's heavy breathing. The Frenchman glanced up to see Arthur throw him the dirtiest of glares and swallowed when he motioned to the sword attached to his belt. Crap. "Antoine, sit back down!"

Ignoring him, the Spaniard quickly ran into the aisle (thank God he was at the end of his row) and bolted towards the stage, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Everything else was muffled, everything else was blurry. All he could focus on was his lovely Lovino and the wedding going on in front of him that he just had to stop.

"What the fuck are you doing?" growled Arthur the moment he clambered onto the stage, panting, face flushed. "Oi! You bloody wanker! Get back to your seat!"

Antonio heard none of the threats or curses thrown his way as he approached his darling lover, who was staring at him in a mixture of shock and horror. He only blinked back to life once the normally cheerful Spaniard pitifully gazed back at him with tearful eyes. His lip quivered. "Lovi...Lovi...why are doing this, Lovi?"

"Huh?" And quite suddenly, the Italian in question found himself trapped in a steel-tight embrace, his face pressed up against a certain someone's (familiar) toned chest. He could hear the other's heartbeat speeding out of control, and he couldn't help but sigh, knowing that he was the cause of that.

"Why would you marry another man, mi amor? Did I do something wrong? Did I make you mad? Lo siento, Boss is really bad with words sometimes..."

"Che cazzo?"

"But I can do better, Lovi! I'll show you love like you've never seen it! Just please don't do this! I'll marry you instead! I'll be a better husband! Don't leave me, querido, por favor. Te amo. Te quiero."

"What? What are y—idiota!" Lovino flushed about ten shades of red almost as soon as his mind registered the words that had just come out of Antonio's mouth. He angrily pushed against his boyfriend's chest to better look at him in the eye. At the startled—but still very hurt—look he received, the smaller teenager groaned. "Dumbass. I'm not getting married. It's a fucking play. I'm acting."

"¿Que?"

"Look, bastard, you're fucking things up right now, so just go away and I'll deal with you later."

"Yeah, Toni, we need you out," Alvarez agreed, nodding towards the side of the stage. He was really starting to get uncomfortable with the interest the crowd was displaying for the sudden turn of events. Especially the girls in front who were now leering at the three of them. At this, however, Antonio only seemed to flare up once more, his arms winding around his lover's waist ("Bastard! What the fuck?") and pulling them flush against each other.

"Alvarez." He said it so deathly quiet, so cold that even Lovino was shocked into silence. The Portuguese boy only raised an eyebrow at his little brother, despite the fact that, inside, he had pretty much just pissed his pants.

"Yes?"

"Did you do something to my Lovi?"

"Did I—what?"

"Did you threaten him in anyway? Did you force him into this? Why else would he marry you?" The grip around Lovino tightened instinctively and he cried out. But to his complete surprise, he was soon let go, a kiss placed delicately on his forehead as his boyfriend shielded him from the other 'prince'. Antonio—it seemed—had gone completely loco and was now approaching his brother not unlike the way a murderer would to his next helpless victim. In a flash, he had grabbed the sword in Arthur's belt, taking everyone by surprise, and wasted no time in pointing the tip directly to his brother's face. He heard gasps all around him, but right now, nothing else mattered except the fact that Alvarez had attempted to marry Lovino behind his back and oh, now he must pay.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me."

"I am not, hermano. But I can assure you that if you try to come between me and Lovi, you will only taste the cold steel of my Spanish espada!" As if to emphasize his point, Antonio drove his blade forward, stopping only mere centimeters away from in between his brother's eyes. For a second, Alvarez looked as though he was about to fight back, maybe throw in an insult or two (or fifteen). He probably would have, had he not remembered the many problems his selfish brother had caused him in the past. ("Mine, mano! Mine, mine, mine! Mio, mio, mio!") He shuddered. Yup. Definitely not worth it, especially if Lovino was involved.

"Fine. Take him."

And just like that, as if he had just triggered a switch, the Spaniard was back to smiling once more, throwing the sword aside as though hadn't just threatened his brother with it a few seconds ago. "Gracias, hermano!"

Then he turned back to a disbelieving Lovino, whose mouth was still hanging open after that short (but drama-filled) sequence of events. With a soft sigh, he pulled them together, pressing his lips firmly on the unsuspecting ones beneath him. And as per usual, the Italian resisted at first, but soon lost all sense and melted into the passionate kiss. They stayed like that for a while—seconds, minutes, days, oh who cared?—until air became a necessity and they broke away, gasping. Now that they were tuned back in with the real world, they could hear the various cat-calls, squeals, wolf-whistles, and that very distinct "Get some, Tonio!" that could only come from a very loud, very rambunctious albino.

"You fucking bastard," murmured Lovino as he attempted—and failed quite miserably—to give his lover a heated glare. Out of the corner of his eye, he could have sworn he saw Elizaveta (who was supposed to be dead, what the hell, Cinderella?) holding a professional-looking video recorder from behind one of the arches. Goddamnit…

"Ah, but I just came to save you, Lovi~" To prove his point, Antonio scooped the smaller boy into his arms and spun them around for a bit. Now that his eyes were clearer, he suddenly realized that Lovi looked really, really, really good in that Prince's outfit...especially with those sinfully skin-tight pants...and gloved hands...and that pequeño crown on his head...

Ngh...

"B-bastard! Where are you taking me?"

"We still have to ride into the sunset, mi amor!"

Oh, they would.

When they got home, he and Lovi would very surely get to have their 'happily ever after.'

Over and over again, if everything went accordingly.

"Antonio~! Let. Me. Go!"

Oh, forget it.

"Agh! Stop fucking running!"

They'll have a quick happy ending in the car first.

If they even made it to the car.

A/N: orz

I really hope this wasn't too bad, B-Day Girl! I can't do as well as you, but hopefully this wasn't completely devastating...lol.

You guys should go check her fics out. They're freakin' amazing. ;D

Growl.

It's pretty obvious I enjoy Spamano. And Portugal. Can't forget Portugal. XD

Did anybody get that World Series reference? You totes get hugs from sexy!Lovi if you do! ((Yes, I do think Lovi would make a pretty delicious Scar. I just know he'd make all our ovaries explode if he sang 'Be Prepared' with that hot Italian accent. Just sayin'.))

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. Or Disney. Or really anything else. Meh.