Whao whao what's this, an update?! Ok, chill your panties. Lots of stuff has changed, but first, enjoy reading, we'll get to that at the bottom.
Characters do not belong to me.

After the fiasco with his older brothers, Arthur was quick to pull his guest into his bedroom. The other boy in tow with his right hand, he used his left to open the door to his personal space.

Alfred watched him turn the brass handle and gently pull him into his room. Alfred looked around; the eggshell white walls were mostly bare. A rather large United Kingdom flag covered the left wall; on a dark oak desk sat several pictures. Most notably, there were books everywhere.

Alfred remembered a time when his mother tried to force reading on him. He had forgiven her since, but looking back on it, the boy knew his mom wanted Alfred to have something even though he was mute. Perhaps to brag about it to her friends; "Oh, my Alfred might be mute, but he's quite the bookworm!"

He shoved the thought out of his head. It wasn't worth it to dote on the past, especially when his parents proved to know nothing of raising a disabled child.

"My brothers won't bother us in here; if there's one thing I'm thankful for, they seem to leave me alone when I'm in here." Arthur informed him. Alfred nodded his head, looking around still. He walked over to the desk and pointed at one of the pictures. Arthur looked over into the frame.

"Oh, those are my grandparents." he dismissed. Alfred looked at their wrinkly faces and gray hair; his own grandma had died, but his grandfather was amazing. He couldn't visit anymore because he was too old now, but when Alfred was younger, his grandfather had come over quite often.

He quickly slipped his phone out of his back pocket and typed up a quick message, showing it to Arthur.

Do you see them often?

"No, they still live in England. But we do skype on holidays and such," he answered after reading the screen. Alfred pointed to the next frame.

"My younger siblings. They're twins; Oliver is the boy, and Emily is the girl. They're pretty wierd." Alfred smiled at this, and typed up another message.

My brother's pretty wierd too.

"I think you're brother is nice enough. I guess I didn't really get to meet him though..." Arthur trailed off, thinking of the peculiar boy who attended Carthoson's despite having all of his senses.

"Alfred, why do you use paper and pen when you type faster on phones?" he asked suddenly. Alfred began typing out a response.

Mattie told me one time that writing has more character. And I can use different colors with my whiteboard or paper.

Arthur read it and hummed in understanding; Alfred pulled his phone back and typed more.

Plus you can draw pictures with them. My board is in my bag or I would use that. Of course, sign is the best way b/c it's fast and personal.

"I apologize for not knowing sign. I guess it could really help."

It's nbd. Everybody at Cartho's uses it but I know that's not norm.

"Could you maybe show me some? I mean, a few of the signs? I know the alphabet but none of the words," the Brit asked. Alfred smiled genuinely at this idea; sure, he almost always had a smile on since they'd met, but this one was different; it was real.

Alfred began showing him signs; he taught him how to say "how are you?" and "What's your name?" and then began doing some of his favorite signs. Basketball, sports, cookie, dog; he showed him some colors and numbers, too.

Arthur got a bit frustrated, as he found they would fade from him memory by the time Alfred circled back to a previous motion. And the other boy really got a kick out of teaching him some of the signs, and watching Arthur struggle with what he considered normal. They did this for quite some time before Alfred pulled his board out and they began talking about stuff.

Alfred, despite how rowdy he had been up to this point, was an extremely polite house guest. He sat still on the bed while he and Arthur talked. Alfred gave him a large thesis on how comic books came to be; Arthur told the other boy some stories from back when he still lived in England. He told the boy about some of his favorite books and Alfred told him about his favorite superhero, Captain America.

I wanna be Capt. America. No, scratch that, I AM Captain America.

"What hero would I be, do you think?" Arthur asked. Alfred wiped his board off; his marker hovered over the surface, waiting to write something while the boy pondered it. It wasn't long before the message came out.

If I'm Captain America, you're Captain Britain.

"What? That's not a real thing. There's not really a superhero called that, are you being serious?"

I'm srs. Not as cool as Capt. America though.

Arthur might have had a retort about that, but he was too busy pulling out his phone and googling it. Sure enough, many pictures popped up of a man with a Union Jack on his head mask.

"I've never even heard of this guy, this is wierd," Arthur mumbled. He watched a board cover his phone and read the marker lines.

That's b/c America is better.

"Hey, watch your mouth in my house," Arthur warned. He glanced up at the American; as he'd hoped, Alfred had taken the joke lightly with no offense. Arthur scrolled through some more pictures of the superhero, and Alfred watched. Google, of course, had a pile of pictures, so they were able to scroll for quite some time.

Then there was a knock on the door, and Will's face came through.

"Hey, laddies, get off the phone and come play basketball with us," he commanded. Arthur grumbled a bit and shut his phone off.

"Maybe if you'd put a 'please' in that sentence," the younger brother retorted. In response, Will repeated the sentence in a high pitched, squeaky voice. Arthur was afraid that it was about to turn into a war zone; he had flashbacks to Kiku, poor Kiku...

I want to play.

Arthur read the board, which his friend was holding up for both him and his brother to read.

"Hey, are you sure? You don't have to play just because you're our guest." Secret, Arthur also loathed basketball. Or sports; perhaps it was because he was the brunt of many balls to the face when he was younger, and his older siblings never let him win. He wasn't athletic to begin with, either. He thought about telling them all off and going back to Captain Britain.

But then a small realization clicked in the back of his mind; this would probably be the last time he hung out with Alfred, and the boy wouldn't see the outside of Carthoson's for a very long time. He could be courteous and play for a small time for this dumb twit.

"What, you too gay to play?" Will snickered. Arthur didn't say anything, but Alfred scribbled on his board.

Nah, I'm gay enough to play. Let's do this.

Will let out a big 'Ooooohhh' at the board. He turned his head around, facing back into the hallway instead of into his younger brother's room.

"See that, Scotty? He's gay enough to play." Will informed his brother. Scott, in response, did the same 'Ooooohhh' his brother just did. The two boys on the bed heard the brunette in the hallway.

"Well, let's go out to the court then!" he answered. Alfred stood up, board in hand, and started walking out of the bedroom, following the two boys. Arthur groaned, loudly. He hated this. He couldn't remember why he'd even brought the blonde boy over. He hated sports, he hated people, he...

His eyes locked on to Alfred as he walked down the hallway. Arthur would never admit it, especially to himself, but a lot of his focus was on the American's rear. Arthur blushed, but then chuckled a bit.

"That's it, that's why I invited him over," Arthur said, not denying his feelings any more.

Ok, ok, I know what you're thinking. That's crazy, wow, totally different writing style, it's basically a different story!
Let me tell you, you're absolutely right. I must have gotten a bit better. Or worse. I didn't write much in these last couple years. A lot of this showed in how I portrayed Alfred and Arthur, I hope; my perspective on characterization has changed much. I don't think it's appropriate to rely on cliches and British words to get my point across. So a lot of their obvious traits are toned down as to make them more human and less one dimensional.

So now you're like, is this story active? Here's the bad news - probably not. With lots of hope, I will be leaving my home in October. There is a chance that will be delayed to January, but if you haven't seen a new chapter by January - it's safe to say I discontinued this series. I'll still write for other things, occasionally (Stuck on Fire Emblem, right now). But I haven't even watched Hetalia in years. And I won't have time to spend on fanfiction - that's the beauty of adulthood. I'm gonna try and get one more chapter of this, but if not, here's the good news...

If someone wants to adopt this story, message me. It's all yours. There's no qualifications, but you'll help yourself out if you've got a few other fics you've wrote so I can read them and see if you're up to snuff. I'll give you an idea of where I was going, but you can take it in a different direction if you want. I'll leave a link to whoever continues it so you all can continue, if it's what you would desire. And, if no one wants to adopt, that's that. There's plenty of good fics, much better than my own out there.

Have a good day.