Hey guys! SwampyGreenie here~! I hope you are enjoying yourselves…I know I am! I don't know where I came up with the idea for this story, but it was originally supposed to be a one-shot…Well, I guess I got carried away again…like I always do!

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one. I worked hard on it. :)

Disclaimer: I do no own Hetalia or its characters. I only own what I do to them.

Warnings: Excessive drinking scene, cute yaoi situations, no smut (sorry), detailed bullying, nice Gilbert, Francis, human names, AU (Alternative Universe), blahblahblah…among other stuff.

Side note: This is rate M for a very specific reason. No, there is no smut. No there is no violence…well if you could count verbal and forceful bullying that, but that's why it is rated M. The bullying scene is explicit so please be mature about it and don't hag me for not having any smut scenes. There will actually be a short one-shot smut scene afterwards, but that comes later. For now,

Enjoy~!

No Strings Attached

Matthew tapped his pencil to his paper as his face slid further down against his hand. The grey clock ticked away the seconds on the wall as his History teacher slipped into the beginnings of an hour long lecture on some crazy historic man named Rasputin. He sighed as he glanced up at the clock to calculate the time left.

One hour.

Class had only just started a few minutes ago, but it already felt like the classroom had effectively drowned the students in its bleak belly. An hour was such a long time to do nothing but listen to a 60-something-year-old drone on about a legendary immortal. The Canadian boy, who was usually ignored, scanned the classroom for signs of a certain student, but sadly he could not spot the white, spiky hair.

Lost for hope of some form of entertainment, Matthew looked back down and tuned in to the lecture to take some well needed notes. Not even five minutes later, the door handle click as the knob was turned. Matthew glanced up as three best friends strolled in. The class clowns… The student body's dirtiest perverts… The school's most dangerous gang.

The Bad Touch Trio.

"Bonjour, mes chéris ~!" The first one sang as he sauntered further into the room. Few people glanced up, but only shortly.

Francis Bonnefoy wasn't the most likable of the trio. He was the dirtiest pervert and had a tendency to reach out and grope random asses in the halls. His long blond hair fell just past his Adam's apple. It hung around his face in greasy clumps, but he liked to call them gorgeous locks. Many kids hated talking to him. Half the time no one understood the man; either his accent was too heavy or they just didn't speak 'proper' French.

He loved to frustrate the student body's senior representative; Arthur Kirkland, a snobbish rich kid with too much time and money on his hands. He could be halfway decent when he was doing things for other people, but he had a nasty habit of cursing and coming up with rude, pompous nicknames for people. His favorite was 'bloody frog'; a nickname he had reserved for Francis alone. Some people thought they were secretly dating, despite all of the negativity they displayed to one another in public.

"Hola amigos!" The next guy waved cheerfully as he strode in the room, a bounce in his step. Some girls glanced at him, but otherwise buried their heads in their textbooks; least they get caught staring gawk-eyed at the delinquent.

Antonio Fernandez Carriedo was an airhead kind of guy who was actually rather nice, despite the fact that he was in the gang. There was some rumor floating around that he had only become friends with the other two of the trio because he had grown up with them and they were like his brothers. The rumor also stated that he just followed along because he was too imprudent to see the bad in anything. He seemed to never take school seriously and was always smiling brightly to people. His attitude was almost contagious, and his looks were something to die for.

He had a head of thick Spanish curls that framed his face and stuck up in weird ways. Some girl's called it the 'sexy Spanish bedhead', others just ogled. His eyes were a piercing emerald green that lit up every time he met someone new and his tan skin just clung tight to his fit body. A body that most high school jocks would die for.

Not to mention, he had that kind of ass, even the straight guys would stare at. It didn't help that he would wear tight jeans that accentuated his firm butt and tone thighs. He could say, at the very least, he had been smacked in the ass a few times too many in his high school years so far. However, it was obvious that Francis was his most frequent customer. It baffled some people that Antonio could hang out with such a sick guy like him, but then again, he was also dating the son of Italy's most prominent mafia boss. So who knew?

"Wie geht's." The last friend of the trio saluted in German with a cool head nod, as he strolled in the classroom with his hands deep in his pockets. Most of the kids lifted their heads, along with Matthew.

Gilbert Beilschmidt.

That's it.

That's all you needed to know.

Say that name and a whole group of girls would be draped around your ankles anxiously waiting to hear any form of gossip about the man. His reputation was considered to be quiet awesome around the school.

He was a German model of some sorts, whose albino features made him almost legend in the city of Germany where he had grown up. Not many people were born naturally albino with an inversion to sunlight. Some households had praised him like a God when he was a child. Now, all the girls fawned over him and pressed kisses to the ground he walked on. Even the guys had to stand back and admire the guy for all of his worth. He was pretty awesome.

Matthew secretly had a crush on the German. He loved how, when his hair got too long and fell into his eyes; Gilbert would jerk his head to the side, almost gracefully, and swing the soft, short, snowy locks out of his glowing eyes. He loved how when he would turn to look at you, it would be like he was searching inside you for something worthwhile to give him a reason to give you a time of his day. Those vibrant scarlet eyes would bore into everything intensely, especially when he got bored.

Despite the fact that true albinos' are extremely pale and burn easy, Gilbert's skin maintained that milky-white flawless tone. It was weird because he was always out in the sun. Matthew just figured that he used sun-screen like a madman. Antonio and Francis were always with him, and the Spaniard managed to turn a healthy sun-kiss tone and the Frenchman just burned. It was definitely strange…or maybe it wasn't. After all, Gilbert was a model; he must know his limits in the sun if he wasn't to retain that gorgeous look of perfection.

He had a tone body, built like Antonio, but was a complete heads taller than that fool. He didn't have an ass as good as Antonio's, but his was a close call. It didn't help that no one had gotten the nerves to pants him and see just exactly what he was hiding, unlike Antonio; he had been pants too many times.

Gilbert's sense of clothes fit well for his sexy model self and most kid would die if he left a jacket in the room or something. Gilbert didn't even know how much the girls fawned over him when he wasn't around. Half the time he ignored girls that tried to steal his heart. He was unshakable. Some rumors had spread that he was into guys, but there had been no justification and so only a few people clung to that rumor hopefully.

Matthew rolled his eyes over his crush and smiled slightly. He liked what he saw.

Gilbert had thrown on some pull over hoodie that stated boldly: 'I AM AN AWESOME GUY!' Underneath the words was a Prussian flag. Gilbert didn't like to tell people that he was German. He'd rather tell people he was from Prussia. He believed that the dead nation was far more awesome than Germany could ever be.

Matthew personally thought it was cool of him. At least, the dead nation got more attention with Gilbert around than Matthew's own home land did. Canada wasn't appreciated as much. People tended to not notice the cold country, even when they invented things that had a large impact on day-to-day lives. The Canadians never got much recognition. That was one reason Matthew wasn't popular or anything.

Matthew shook his head, ignoring the pain in his heart for his homeland and continued to eye his secret crush.

Gilbert had on skinny jeans today, but they bagged slightly. A wallet chain hung from his belt loop to his back pocket and he wore a heavy studded belt laced through the belt loops. He wore his blue converse that also proclaimed he was awesome. When he had walked in the room, he had kept his eyes ahead, ignoring the fact that the whole class had looked up at him. Some students thought that when he ignored people, he was just trying to be awesome.

Matthew was one of the few people who knew the model's sexual preferences. Francis was Matthew's second cousin and he had drilled the gang leader one night until he had found out. Gilbert actually did have a thing for guys, but all the guys that approached him weren't his type. Matthew never had a chance of talking to him face-to-face, and he hoped one day he could. But until that time came, he had made sure Francis swore never to tell his secret.

He wanted Gilbert to notice him on his own. Too bad, every time the German model looked in his direction, his eyes seemed to pass right through the Canadian.

"What are you guys thinking, coming to my class late?" The old teacher asked harshly. He didn't take kindly to late comers or delinquents.

Francis stepped up and winked, waving a white nurse pass in front of the teacher's nose. "You should take our tardiness up with Nurse Blair." He sang. "We were with her."

The teacher's eyes hardened, but he clamped his mouth shut and motioned for then to find a seat. Of course the only empty desks were all the way in the back; all three surrounding Matthew. Antonio sat in front of him and Francis and Gilbert to his left and right.

Matthew tried to ignore the pounding of his blood in his head. He was getting very nervous sitting so close to Gilbert; who had nonchalantly slouched down in the seat, his feet propped up on the book basket of the chair in front of him. His hands were still buried in his pockets as he proceeded to ignore the lecture that had continued the moment they sat down.

It's not that he didn't like school; he was just tired of the bullshit that came with it. People never took school seriously. At least, that's what Matthew got out of his reactions. He had spotted Gilbert, on more than one occasion, sitting in his car and studying for a test or something. Not to mention, he had already aced the class last year. They only put him in it again because, for some reason, he needed an extra space filled on his schedule card.

"Pst, Francis." Gilbert leaned closer to Matthew and looked around his shoulders. Matthew hunched over his desk and tried to ignore the German's hand that had clamped down on the back of his chair, so that he wouldn't tumble forward in his seat. "Francis!" He whispered louder.

The French guy looked up from his doodle of a rose.

"Qu'est ce que c'est?" He asked in French. Matthew quickly translated the words in his head to English. What is it?

Gilbert leaned in closer. "West is going to get together with some of his older college friends. He wants to throw a party tonight at our house. You should come with Toni."

"Mais, bien sûr!" He exclaimed. But, of course! "But…" He trailed off for a second. "…do you think I could bring my cousin along?"

Heat flooded Matthew's face and he turned to Francis, making desperate no faces at him. Of course he cousin was going to try and set him up with Gilbert.

"Who?" Matthew bit his lip, staring right at Francis, begging with his eyes. Francis smiled sweetly and leaned over to clap Matthew on the back.

"My cousin, Matthew." He said slyly.

Gilbert pulled back and smiled widely. "Oh, hey. I didn't know you were Francis's cousin."

Matthew turned slowly to face his crush. He tried to play it cool and put a smirk on his features. However, inside his hoodie sleeves, his palms were clammy with nervous sweat. It didn't help that he could feel the heated look his cousin was giving to his back.

"Hi." He said quietly, as his voice cracked slightly. He gave a head nod of acknowledgment, before lowering his gaze to the floor.

Either he didn't notice, or Gilbert just ignored the nervousness emitting from the shy kid. Instead, he looked up at Francis and asked, "How come you never told me he was your cousin? He's been in this class the entire year and you never introduced us."

To Matthew he said, "Come on, loosen up, kid." He clapped a hand on Matthew's shoulder and gave it a reassuring shake. The violet eyed kid didn't know what to do; his crush was touching him! "It seems like you don't get invited to parties that often, but sure you can come. It'll be fun."

Francis smiled sweetly at Gilbert.

"You know I can always count on you to say yes to moi! And he's just shy all the time, ignore it. He'll open up once you get to know him better."

Matthew perked up, slightly annoyed at his cousin. He didn't want his cousin telling Gilbert all about his weaknesses! He wanted to be cool in front of the guy, for God's sake!

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here, Francis!" He whispered, mortified at his own annoyance.

"Oh hon hon~!" Francis put his hands up in surrender. "So that dark side comes out now!"

"And just what are we talking about here boys?" The teacher stood over them and glared down at Francis. Matthew glanced up nervously; a deer in the headlights and quickly came up with a response.

"Nothing important sir. We were just talking about how Rasputin had eloped with the Princess Anastasia." The older man eyed him curiously, silently wondering why the best student would stand up for two of the class clowns, but he didn't reprimand the kid. He was too good to get in trouble. So the teacher just mumbled 'fine' and walked away, returning to the last five minutes of his lecture.

"Hey, kid." Gilbert whispered to Matthew. "Thanks for that." The latter shrugged nonchalantly and turned to glare at Francis, who had returned to his doodle without another word.

.

.

When the bell rang, Matthew shuffled out of the classroom as fast as he could. He didn't want to have a reason to stay behind and have Francis talk to him about Gilbert. He drew his books closer to his chest as he hurried, unnoticed by the students, down the hall to his brother's car, where it was parked in the student lot.

"Alfred." He said as he approached the red Mustang. His younger brother looked up from the gaggle of girls that surrounded him and waved cheerfully, his trademark cowlick bouncing in his enthusiasm.

"What's up, little bro?! Ready to go?" The younger brother raised an arm and unlocked the car doors with the car remote.

Matthew nodded and slipped into the passenger seat of the car. It was another minute before his younger brother broke away from his group of admirers and slipped into the driver's seat, smiling goofily.

"So, you wouldn't believe what happened today in lunch! So this new girl…" Matthew tuned out his brother's normal ride-home chatter and gazed out the window. Trees and street signs flew by in colorful blurs.

When they arrived home he unlocked the front door and made a beeline straight for his room. He locked himself in. It was Friday and he was planning to hole himself up for the rest of the night. He was too nervous and upset about being forced to go to Gilbert's party to want to eat anything.

He plopped face-down in the pillows piled up on his bed and pulled his stuffed polar bear to his chest. He buried his nose into the ratty fur and smiled comfortably at the familiar scent of stale ice and laundry detergent. When he was little had had always pretended that she was his best friend...

.

.

Matthew awoke suddenly to his brother pounding on his door.

"Mattie! I know you're in there! Cousin Francis and told me to tell you to check your phone! He's been trying to get ahold of you for the past few hours!" The pounding persisted as Matthew dragged himself off the tousled sheets, shuffled over to the door and cracked it open to answer his brother. The hallway light shone brightly, momentarily blinding him.

"Yeah…" He groaned at his brother. Alfred had shut up when the door opened. "I'll look at it...the phone…"Alfred looked over his elder brother; mousy blond hair in a tumble mess of bed head, lavender eyes half-shut from the bright light and sleepiness.

"Shit Mattie, you look like…well, shit." He pressed a glass of water into Matthew's hand and told him to drink up. "By the way," He said hesitantly, as Matthew chugged down the water greedily. "…dad called in earlier when we got in."

"Yeah…? What did he say?" Matthew asked as he licked a few beads of water from his lips. Their father had left a few days ago to go on a business trip. He was supposed to return Monday night.

"He said he would have to…stay in England for another week…negotiations aren't going too well."

Matthew groaned and mumbled something about wanting to go back to sleep. His younger brother bid him goodnight, taking the empty glass out of his hand and telling him that there was some leftover burgers in the fridge, just in case he got hungry later. Matthew nodded and locked the door again, before flopping down on the messed up sheets.

The sun had long set and his room was almost pitch black except for the shard of moonlight slicing through the crack in his blinds. He slung his arm onto the bedside table and lifted his phone, blinking at the brighter light emitting from the LED screen.

There were five messages, two missed calls and a voicemail.

Francis had called both times and left three text messages. The other two were from his good friend, Carlos and Francis's best bud, Antonio; why he was texting Matthew, he didn't know.

He dialed his voicemail first.

Bonjour, my sweet cousin! I just wanted to tell you to check your text messages! I sent you the party's information. Please, s'il te plaît, read them tonight! Stay happy, au revoir!

Matthew yawned as he hung up. He scrolled through the texts.

Carlos was calling him a sly dog for getting invited to Gilbert's party. He was the only other guy, besides Francis, that knew Matthew was crushing on the German model. He sent a text back telling him that he had been set up. Antonio left him a message saying that he needed his stuff.

Wtf is he talking about? Matthew thought as he scrolled through the last three texts.

According to Francis, the party was tomorrow at six, but Francis was going to have him there early to set up, so he wanted him there around three. Antonio was going to pick him up since he lived the closest to Matthew. He needed to send Antonio his address. The third text was telling him to get really drunk at the party.

Apparently, Gilbert was a sucker for easy drunkards.

Matthew groaned loudly. Francis was seriously trying to kill him. He scrolled back to Antonio's text and sent him his home address, before glancing at Francis's second text. The one he hadn't read. It told him to wear something casual, but not too casual. Something along the lines of a button-down shirt with skinny jeans.

Matthew looked away from his phone and got lost in thought, thinking of what he should wear. Gilbert hadn't said anything along the sorts of the party being even remotely fancy, but he didn't have his number to ask him, so he decided to ask the second best; Antonio.

He texted the airhead asking him what he should wear.

Antonio's reply back was that it was just a college-boy party, just wear whatever is comfortable. Matthew sighed, at least he wasn't going to show up over dressed and seemly trying too hard, unlike Francis always did. He had good reasons to doubt his cousin's words sometimes.

With the texting out of the way, he rolled off the bed and kicked off his red converse. He had fallen asleep in his school clothes and felt the sudden urge to get clean. He pulled his blue hoodie over his head and shivered in the sudden wave of cold air that washed over his bare arms. He shimmied out of his skinny jeans, leaving on his black under-tank and his black boxer briefs. The bundle of clothes were then, tossed in the dirty laundry basket.

After brushing his teeth, Matthew returned to his room to strip completely and toss the rest of his clothes into the basket as well. In the bathroom, fully nude, he lit a candle on the side of the sink, before turning off the bathroom light.

The soft glow of the white candle's flame flickered calmly off the white tiles of the walls and he pulled a fresh towel from the shelf and placed it on the closed toilet lid. He stepped in the shower and turned the water to cool. Not too warm so that he would waste the hot water, but not too cold so that he would freeze to death, either.

He scrubbed away the grim and sweat that clung to his skin and then lathered his dirty blonde hair with shampoo. He stood under the waters spray and rinsed off the suds.

I seriously hope that I can make it through tomorrow without being weird around Gilbert…He mused as he smoothed conditioner into the ends of his hair. He flushed at the thought of being so close to Gilbert; even in his own home!

Matthew turned off the water and dried off with the towel, before pulling back the shower curtain. He sat on the side of the bathtub as he filled the tub with hot water. With the water still running, he padded into his room, feet sinking into the soft rug, and grabbed his IPod off the bed side table. He plugged it into his speakers and scrolled down the long list of songs. Play was pressed on his favorite, soothing trance playlist.

The sweet scent of lavender soap swirled in the steam rolling off the walls. He sighed as he sunk down in the tub, the hot water washing over his aching body. His head fell back and his eyes slid closed. The water lapped gently against his body as he let his worries and doubts drift away.

Well, almost.

.

.

The burring of his phone snapped him out of his own trance. He hadn't realized he had been sitting there, soaking for over twenty minutes. The skin of his fingers and toes were starting to shrivel slightly and turn a ghastly pale. He unplugged the drain and stepped out onto the plush floor towel. He dried off again and toweled his hair as he walked into his room, leaving the candle burn away on the counter. The soft light of the candle illuminated through the doorway and somewhat into his room. Just enough so that he could see what he was doing.

Digging through his drawers he found his favorite pair of boxer briefs and slid them on. They were red and had a white maple leaf on one hip, and the word 'CANADA' running vertical in white lettering on the other. Matthew didn't bother looking for more clothes to put on, it's not like he needed them. He had always slept near nude.

He returned to the bathroom and blew out the candle before walking back into his room in the dark. With one hand pawing at the towel slung over his damp hair, he picked up the phone.

One missed call from Francis Bonnefoy (The pervert cousin).

According to his phone, it was twelve thirty-four, what was Francis doing calling him at this time? He nearly jumped as his phone buzzed in his hand.

Incoming call from Francis Bonnefoy (The pervert cousin).

Matthew groaned inwardly and pressed the call button.

"Yeah?" He answered the phone.

"Oh~! Thank God~!" Francis sang stupidly. He definitely sounded drunk. Too drunk for Matthew's standards. "I'm so glad you answered the phone~! I need your opinion!" In the background, hard laughing and drunk cheering came through, slightly muffled. Matthew felt the sudden urge to slap his forehead.

Leave it to Francis to get drunk first thing Friday night.

"Do you think that…" He trailed off for a second before nearly blowing up Matthew's eardrums with loud French. "…j'ai un petit queue?!" Matthew immediately flushed. Did his cousin seriously just ask him if he thought he had a small dick?! At this time of night?!

Yes.

But not really serious, anyway. He was too drunk for that. Francis was never serious when dead drunk. Matthew didn't even bother answering his question; he just hung up the call. Lying down on his bed, he curled up and let his eyes slip close. Hopefully some wonderful sleep would overtake him.

Hey! SwampyGreenie here! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of "No Strings Attached". I feel like this story is going nowhere so far, but don't worry, it will go far! I promise my dearies!

Please leave a review and let me know what you think! Thanks for reading and look forward to the next chapter!

~SwampyGreenie