Chapter 1: Moving in…

Gilbert found his self reluctantly carrying a box filled with his stuff down the corridor into the smaller room, he also found it all the too tempting to stick his foot out as Ludwig passed him causing his younger (yet taller) brother to trip up; with the stuff he was carrying coming crashing down. Gilbert glared at his younger brother and carried on walking down the hall, hearing his brother sigh and start gathering the dropped items up.

Gilbert came to the room he was moving his stuff too, his younger brothers room. After a long argument with his parents he and his brother were being forced to switch rooms (meaning Gilbert was getting a smaller room and Ludwig was getting a bigger one). After a few silent hours of moving things from one room to the other, every now and then Gilbert tripping Ludwig up for revenge they found their rooms completely switched around.

Gilbert sighed miserably he wasn't sure how he was going to fit everything in this small room, and he was still feeling rather spiteful and angry so he did what any other normal teenager would do, he dumped the contents of all his boxes onto the floor where he was planning to leave them and hope he could find whatever he needed when the time came. Grabbing come sellotape he roughly stuck some of his posters up across the walls not caring if they were tilted or not (it was better than the plain white walls any day). He threw all his clothes to the bottom of the wardrobe not looking if they were clean or not, because hey if your parents were giving you a smaller room that your younger brother was perfectly fine with but you weren't you were going to make them regret it right?

Just as Gilbert was going to tear down the curtains his brother had hung up (because really he didn't care if some saw him walk around his room naked, they could enjoy the view for all he cared) he heard a light knocking on his door. He sighed knowing it was his younger brother- the only one polite enough to knock that quietly and wait for him to say to come in (his Father would burst in, in the hopes of catching him trying to blow something up so he could yell at him while his Mother kept obnoxiously knocking in the hopes it would make him open the door faster).

Debating whether or not it would be fine to let his younger brother stay out there and pretend he hadn't heard (because he knew his brother wouldn't knock again after the first knock) he decided against it knowing his brother would just stand, or sit, outside his door until he let him in- he had always done that after making him angry. Calling to let his brother know he was welcome to enter if he so wished, he ripped the curtains and netting down and opened his window wide letting a cool autumn breeze flow through his room.

He heard the soft hesitant creek of the door swinging open and the careful steps of his brother entering. Gilbert refused to turn around at first hoping he wouldn't take his anger out on his brother again (he was a good kid really and he was sure Ludwig was the only family member he could actually tolerate being around). He heard the door softly shut and his brother try to maneuver around all the junk he'd throw on the floor, he knew his brother was probably looking at all the rubbish with disdain- he had always hated messes.

"… Bruder…" He heard his brother mutter, then went silent as he tried to rearrange his thoughts. Gilbert sighed the sudden feeling of guilt surging through him as he heard his brother sounding as miserable as he felt.

"I'm sorry," Gilbert sighed turning around to face his brother. "I… know it's not your fault… And I shouldn't have taken it out on you… Was angry was all…"

Ludwig sent him a half hearted smile showing he was fine and that he didn't blame his older brother, what only made the bruise forming on the side of his face all the more noticeable and made Gilbert feel ten times worse than he already felt.

"Ludwig! Oh my God! Your face!" He panicked as he ran over (crushing and breaking a few thing dumped onto the floor) and carefully looked at the slowly swelling bruise. "You got this when you fell didn't you? Wait! Of course you did! I'm such an awful brother! Why haven't you gone to see Mother about that? It's starting to swell and-"

"Bruder!" Ludwig called interrupting the frantic Gilbert. "If I went to Mother about this she would blame you… and you're already in a lot of trouble… I didn't want to make it any worse for you…"

"West…" Gilbert sighed running a hand through his silver locks and looked to the side a bit in the hopes of not having to stare right at the evidence that he was an awful brother. "Look you need to show her that so she can stop the swelling… You… you can say you accidently tripped if you don't want me to get in trouble… or you can tell the truth it was my fault after all and… and…"

He looked down, why did he have to be such an ass, especially with such a sweet brother?

"I'm sorry West… I'll make it up to you somehow… I didn't mean too… I… Oh god, I'm so bloody sorry Ludwig…" he muttered incoherently as his brother just stood in front of him watching as he tried his best not to break down into hysterics.

Ludwig looked sadly at his brother, he didn't blame Gilbert; his older brother had gone through a lot over the years. Their parents were abusive and Gilbert did every awful thing he could to keep their parents attention on him so they couldn't lash out at Ludwig. When they were younger Ludwig had just thought his brother was being a trouble maker for the fun of it, but as they grew up he noticed the cuts and bruises his brother hid and the way that when his parents even looked at the younger brother even slightly wrong the older would go and cut a credit card or smash a window.

"Bruder…" Ludwig wrapped one of his arms around his brother in half a hug (he knew his older brother hated being hugged by both arms, having a fear of being trapped). "Calm down… I don't blame you…"

Oh and how he wished Gilbert would believe those words… but he knew his older brother wouldn't listen… he knew his brother would blame his self and think he hated him… he knew his brother wouldn't forgive his self no matter how many times he apologised… and he knew right now how much his older brother hated his self… thinking he was becoming like his parents… abusive…

Arthur Kirkland found his self leaning against the back window of his Dad's car, one arm dangling outside holding his cigarette there so the smoke didn't float around the car, and his legs stretched out ever so dangerously close to the clutch, his foot threatening to hit it forward and change gears as it tapped along to the music that was blasting into one of his ears, his headphones only covering one ear so his Dad couldn't complain he was ignoring him (although he obviously was). The car was speeding down the highway at almost dangerous speeds as his Dad complained to him about his Ma, and the decisions she made without consulting anyone.

"I mean really!" His Dad shouted, as his anger rose so did the speed. "Deciding you have to go live with some French Bastards to learn manners of all things!"

Arthur felt like commenting about the fact if he didn't slow down they probably wouldn't even get to those French Bastards in one piece, but kept silent knowing his Dad would just be urged to go faster instead.

"And I swear that French Bastard is fucking your bloody bitch of a Mother!" His Dad was now gripping the steering wheel very tightly as if imagining strangling someone… someone French…

And again Arthur felt like commenting about how it wouldn't surprise him, but kept his thoughts to his self, there was no need to add fuel to his Dad's angry fire.

"You fuckin better not become a 'gentlemen'," his Dad took his hands off the steering wheel for a second to make imaginary speech marks, before just managing to put them back on the wheel in time to turn the next corner.

Arthur took a quick drag before blowing the smoke out of the window and tried to admire the night time sky that was passing them by far too quickly. He guessed at least he would end up getting away from his Dad's angry ramblings quicker… or not have to live with trying to become a gentleman at all, if they continued at this speed.

"And you better show that French Bastard whose boss, you hear me! And make his life a living hell; show him he can't take other people's wives! All the French are swine!" Yep his Dad was a character; Arthur found his self thinking as his Dad screamed different things for him to remember.

Arthur took one more drag from his cigarette before throwing it out the window, making sure it hit the car behind them, but not caring enough to see what reaction they threw back.

He had to question why his Dad was letting him go to these French bastards house if he thought they were as awful as he was making them out to be… but he knew why really, he wanted Arthur to ruin this French family's life, he wanted him to ruin their reputation; he wanted them to fail at turning him into a gentleman…

He turned the loud blaring music off and shoved the large headphones around his neck, they weren't helping him block out his Dad's anger and it wasn't calming him… or doing anything other than bursting an eardrum; he was almost at the French house already.

Sitting up slightly he grabbed hold of the top of the car and his seat as he kicked the clutch from 5th gear to 1st, making the tires constrict, causing the car to lurch suddenly into a slower pace as rubber and concrete met in a harsh form of friction. The sudden momentum change caused his Dad to quickly panic and hit the brakes. And the vehicle came to a rather anticlimactic stop.

Arthur opened the car door and kicked it shut, pulling his suitcase out of the open window.

"Well, Dad it's been fun, but I have some French people's lives to ruin, don't worry if the bill they send back with me is too large it's what you wanted after all," and he headed towards the house that his Dad had almost passed and the house he was going to be spending the next year living in.

He heard some loud mutters about ungrateful punk kids who think they can do whatever they like as the car engine loudly revved and sped off.

"Fuck you too," Arthur muttered to his self; looking at the extremely white house in front of him. The garden… was filled with lilies and roses, with what he assumed was perfectly cut grass and with the perfectly little cute white fence with the flower designs running along them that wouldn't be able keep even a Chihuahua out, and the bloody perfectly perfect everything. He growled as he realised he wouldn't be able to egg this perfectly perfect house… he would've jumped on the opportunity if he wasn't going to be living there for a year.

He knocked the door loudly six times, and he did that three times laughing at the fact that if his Ma was there she would be panicking over it being the devil's number and begging him to pray for God to cleanse his soul. His Ma should probably panic over her own more than his, the woman could be painfully blind about her own life sometimes…

The door was shyly opened by a smaller boy, who Arthur thought if he was in a crowd of people would probably be forgotten about. He had light brown hair that was wavy with one strand standing up and was hugging his self as though he was scared of even the wind.

"Whose at the door Matthew?" An irritatingly French voice questioned, and Arthur found his self shoving past the absolutely terrified boy and towards that annoying voice.

"Who was meant to be arriving today Francis?" Arthur said as darkly and as sarcastically as he possibly could as he glared and the blonde wavy haired freak I front of him.

The blonde boy looked over at the English punk with utter disdain. His eyes' narrowing every time their gaze passed one of Arthur's many piercings, his face paled when he saw the green the British teen had added into his hair and he almost screamed when he saw the cuts and scars he had gained through a few knife fights he had had over the years.

"Sacrebleu!" The French teen screamed. "What have you done to yourself Angleterre?"

Arthur's eyes narrowed at his old nickname that the idiotic French teen had given him.

"I've been enjoying myself." He stated it simply and plainly and with such menace, almost as though he was daring Francis to risk saying anymore, which he quickly realised and changed the subject as quickly as he could.

"Well, Angleterre mes parents are out on a date, so they told moi to show you to your room!" Francis quickly herded Arthur to his room, stopping on the way to introduce his cousin (the boy who opened the front door for him) Matthew and explained how he was staying the night.

The room was… simple. A plain bed, a plain wardrobe, a plain desk and a dull lamp on it… All the wood in the room a bleach-like colour and the walls were a plain white as were the bed sheets and the curtains. After Francis had excused his self to check on Matthew who seemed to be slightly shaken (Arthur would say more likely scared shitless) he dumped his suitcase in the middle of the room and rummaged through throwing things this way and that.

Once he had the book he was reading in hand he stretched out across the floor, planning to read the night away (who would willingly sleep with that French bastard around anyway?) when he heard muffled speaking, that most definitely didn't belong to any French twat.

As the voices slowly got louder he turned and laid on one of his ears in the hope of blocking out the entire racket that seemed to be coming from the house next door. Of course try as he might the voices seemed to be getting frantic… He sighed, knowing there was only one way he was going to be able to concentrate on his book that night.

Getting up he looked out the window at whoever was making the noise to see two guys hugging. Resisting the urge to pull out a cigarette and smoke the stress away he slowly and quietly opened his window and as hard as he could threw his book at them.

"Can you keep your fuckin' gay love life to yourselves? Not EVERYONE wants to hear you bastards!" Arthur screamed when he saw the white haired man get hit by his book and they both jumped apart looking over at him in shock.

Arthur purposely ignored the bruises that were plainly visible of both of the teen's skin, it wasn't his business to get involved and for all he knew they may have just had a fist fight with each other or someone else, all he cared about at that moment was them shutting up and being quiet so he could read. The teen with the white hair and red eyes recovered quickly though and glared back over at him, while the tall blonde still seemed shell-shocked (Arthur guessed he could see sense in that, it wasn't every day someone just threw something at you while you were in, what assumed, your own house to get you to shut up).

"First we are brothers, and second who the hell do you think you are throwing stuff into other people's houses!" The albino quickly howled back clearly not amused (his brother just gaped in shock), but Arthur just grinned back.

"Incest isn't any better than being gay you know? I mean I'd rather have sex with a guy than my brother. And I'm Arthur Kirkland, the guy who just hit you across the head with a book, because you were interrupted my reading…" He paused then added. "Be a mate and throw it back over!"

The albino's eyes narrowed dangerously as he seemed to grab the nearest thing to him before hurling it over at Arthur, oh this was going to be one wonderful year, Arthur could just tell!

Author's comments and all that jazz:

So yes I shall warn you at the end: this story may contain gore, abuse, gay sex, punk! England, the awesome coupling of England and Prussia and swearing A LOT of swearing and general stuffs like that as the story plays out (only the swearing has been really bad in this chapter).

Another note here is I don't own Hetalia in any way whatsoever, because if I did we would've already come across Prussia and England's story and there would so be less, if any at all, romantic hints between England and America (not really a fan of those two together in that way)… Oh and Scotland, the Irelands and Wales would've been in the story since the beginning (I'm proudly English, Scottish, Irish AND Welsh after all)!

And now my actual comment. I'm so bloody happy to finally get an England and Prussia story going, there is simply not enough fans of the pairing and simply not enough fan fictions OR fan art! I've been thinking about it for a while now and couldn't get the gears turning properly or I'd like the story idea but like Prussia would have to come in half way through the story for it to work and that's not nearly enough EnglandxPrussia is it? But this story just came over me and was like… I need to write it now!

And then I started writing and when I read over for a quick check through to get rid of all the mistakes I could see, you don't know how happy I was to see how I was writing the story (I've been failing at writing recently and would be writing mainly speech and that's not really a story is it?)

But yes, I hope you enjoy this as much as I have while I was writing it. If you enjoy what I've done so far review, fav or alert and I'll try and keep the story alive and going (and maybe even finished before I start college I've got a couple weeks left after all). Well thank you for reading!