I have never been to a rave before…legal or otherwise. So I have no idea what goes on in there besides drugs, drinking, and sex. And I just assumed they'd be like clubs, only, well, illegal.

This is the second story in my High School AU series (doesn't have a name, sorry). The first one is called Smile for the Camera! , the contents of which are only briefly mentioned in this one. So, it is not required reading, but if you want to, go right ahead! Lord knows I ain't gonna stop you…

Inspired by the song: Pretty Rave Girl, by I-Am-X-Ray

http:/ .com/ watch? v= eGjk_ 6KuYdo

(you know the deal, just take out the spaces~)

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, raves, or I-Am-X-Ray. *cries*

Enjoy!

"Honestly, Gilbert, don't you have anything better to do than bug me in class? Some people actually try to learn in this school, you know." Roderich Edelstein's irritated voice reverberated throughout the hallway.

"Nein, Roddy. But you should be grateful, y'know. I mean, I am gracing you with my awesome presence. Not everyone gets to have such an awesome experience!" Gilbert Weillshmidt, self-proclaimed 'Awesome Prussian', boasted to the smaller Austrian man in front of him. His white hair gleamed in the electric lights, and his red eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Well, please leave. Musical theory is a rather difficult class, and you insist on seeing me every day during this specific block. If you continue in this manner, Mr. Wang will surely fail me. Now, if you will please excuse me." Roderich's hand moved behind him as he angled his body toward the door, and he gripped the handle. His eyes were looking at anything but the albino.

"No…shit, Roddy. I'm sorry. This time I really do need to talk to you." Gilbert frantically reached out and grabbed the Austrian's free hand in his attempt to stop him, and immediately dropped it, as though he had been shocked. In all actuality, the feeling that had flown up his arm was much like one, but it held a meaning far greater than that…

Anyway.

"What, Gilbert?" Roderich asked, straightening his glasses awkwardly.

"You know what, Specs. You know exactly what I want to talk about." Gilbert said slowly. Roderich's hand stilled on the door handle.

"Gilbert…please. I would much rather not talk about Friday." He whispered, his whole body frozen in place.

"Well, we're gonna have to do it sometime, little master. And I think now is as good a time as any." Gilbert pushed, and Roderich sighed.

"I'll surely fail if I skip yet again with you, Gilbert. How about the public library after school? I have to tutor students there for two hours, but then I'm free. Will that suffice?" After he had stated this, as if he had not asked a question but had said an unshakable truth, he zoomed back into the classroom, and the door banged shut in Gilbert's face.

"Roderich…!" Gilbert called, but he knew he was too late. There was no way the younger Austrian was going to be coming out of his classroom a second time.

Verdammt! I need to talk to him about this now! Gilbert thought, kicking the lockers. He cursed himself, but then his mind began to plan what he would say to Roderich later that day. He slowly planned out this huge speech about everything he needed to say, while he skipped third bell. He even ate lunch alone, which was odd, but Francis and Antonio knew he would probably want to be alone today.

They were there on Friday, after all. They knew what had happened.

Friday Night

This was it. This was the moment he would break free, the moment he would finally do what he had wanted to do ever since he had heard of it.

Go to a rave.

Roderich finished fidgeting with his gas mask, deeming it fine and in its place. The room was crowded, too much for his liking, but there was no way he was going to let that get to him. No. Not tonight. Tonight was his, and nothing was going to ruin it. People were staring at him, but not in a way that he was used to. This was…it made him feel…

Sexy.

He only knew one person here: Elizabeta Héderváry. She had been the one to find the rave, to suggest he come along. She had also been the one to force him into this outfit, consisting of a tight-fitting shity, black and green Tripp pants, a neon green gas mask…Roderich sighed. It was tedious wearing so many clothes.

Of course, Elizabeta had not planned on his Romanian next-door-neighbor insisting that he tag along with them, which annoyed the Hungarian woman to every extent.

"So, Roderich, hun-how do you like it? Your first rave, I mean. Well, technically, we haven't gotten in yet, but so far?" Elizabeta asked, excited and bouncy; the excitement in the air was infectious. Even Roderich was beginning to bounce up and down softly to the bass pumping out of the barn they stood by.

Roderich smiled. "It's even better than I thought it would be, Elizabeta." He murmured, and continued looking around him.

The Hungarian woman smiled, and lit up like a Christmas tree. "Good. I'm glad I dragged you along! Although, it'd be better without a certain someone here with us…" she trailed off threateningly, and Vladimir glared at her.

"Yeah, well, what was I supposed to do? It's a Friday night, and my neighbor was going to a rave. How am I supposed to pass up an opportunity like that?" Vladimir asked, his voice as angry as hers, although less masked.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe go hang out with people who actually care about your existence?" Elizabeta said with a scowl while she balled up her fists.

"Can we please not fight tonight? I'm here to enjoy myself, and I don't want you two hooligans to-" Roderich stopped talking when he heard an obnoxious laugh in the distance.

"Kesesesese~ hey, Francis, Antonio, check out that one!" Gilbert Weillshmidt guffawed, pointing straight at Roderich. The Austrian stiffened under that gaze.

So much for his perfect night.

"Hey, cutie. My name's Gilbert Wellshmidt, and I'm awesome at everything, including dancing. Especially dancing. You should really dance with me tonight." Gilbert said, his obnoxiously loud voice growing quieter as he walked up to the trio. Roderich merely stared.

Did he not…recognize Roderich?

"Oh, shit. What are you doing here?" Gilbert asked when he noticed Elizabeta, his annoyance plain on his face.

"Just be lucky I don't have my frying pan with me today, you ass." She scoffed, crossing her arms. Vladimir took a small step forward, as if testing Gilbert, to see if he would continue his barrage on the Hungarian girl.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, bitch. But, anyways…" The albino turned his attention back to Roderich, who raised a questioning eyebrow.

"You should really come dance with the awesome me."

Roderich tilted his head, as if saying 'And why should I?'

"Hey-a rave's a perfect chance to meet new people, you know. So, I figure, why not start now?" Gilbert said, shrugging. Roderich had assumed correctly-Gilbert didn't know it was him.

Then a thought seemed to strike him. He grinned underneath his mask, and Gilbert saw a predatory twinkle in Roderich's eyes that he took as a 'yes'. Gilbert grinned cockily, and grabbed his hand, yanking him inside and past the bodyguard who yelled at them to stop.

"Kesesese~ I knew you would say yes to the awesome me! No one can resist this much amazingness." Gilbert laughed out, his usually loud voice drowned out by the bass thumping through the building. And if Roderich wanted to keep up his little charade, he wouldn't say a word in reply. Or at all, through the whole night.

Roderich had to wonder why he was doing this. To have something to hold against the German boy? No, blackmail was more Elizabeta's area of expertise…

So, then, why? Roderich could come up with no other answer than this, so he let it slide from his mind.

The music pounded its way into the bodies of every person in the building, making them alive, energetic, and with this passion to move, dance, jump, sing, and do anything their heart desired. That dream was fulfilled in the hypnotic beats.

Gilbert was leading Roderich around the building, seemingly looking for something…or someone.

"Hey!" He shouted, "Did you see where Francis and Antonio went?"

Roderich almost shook his head no, when he realized he wasn't supposed to know who Francis and Antonio were. After all, he wasn't Roderich tonight. Not right now. Not with Gilbert. So he merely looked at him quizzically.

"My two friends." He explained, as if that would help anyone other than Roderich. The German was just lucky it was the brunette; no one else would have thought anything of that bit of information. Roderich shook his head in denial, and shrugged his shoulders.

"Damn. Mathew's going to kill me for losing Francis, and I don't even want to think about what Lovino's going to do…" Roderich looked at him questioningly again, but Gilbert denied him an answer with a wave of his hand. He knew who Lovino was (everyone had seen that particular incident on the announcements, where Antonio and Lovino were caught making out, candid camera), but who was Mathew …Mathew…ah, yes. Mathew Williams. The little Canadian boy, the twin brother of Alfred Jones. Roderich wondered why he was here of all places, but if he was here with Francis, then it was no wonder. The blonde's ability to make people do things they wouldn't ordinarily do was astounding.

"Well, at least I got you all to myself!" He said, his lips quirking up into a haughty grin. Roderich lifted his eyebrow airily, and Gilbert laughed. He then proceeded to tug Roderich's arms forward, with the promise of "Let's go dance!"

Roderich froze where he stood. Gilbert turned to ask why he had stopped walking, when he saw the look of unadultered fear in Roderich's eyes.

"What's wrong, haven't you ever danced at a rave before?" He yelled through the noise, and Roderich was shoved forward by someone doing a particular dangerous dance move. He was now only centimeters away from Gilbert. The German looked at him closely, studying his eyes…

Roderich took a quick step backwards, and Gilbert shook whatever train of thought he had been working on out of his head.

"Have you ever even been to a rave at all?" Gilbert asked, seemingly shocked at this turn of events. Roderich shook his head no.

"Huh. Wow. Normally newbies don't go all out for their first rave, I'm surprised you got so decked out-it was that Elizabeta bitch that dressed you up, wasn't it?" Gilbert asked, and Roderich merely tilted his head, shrugging a little bit. It was amazing how many different answers you could give with just small movements from your body; but, he supposed, that was probably why it was called body language in the first place.

"You know," he sighed, "you're going to have to talk with me at some point. I can't just keep calling you, well, 'you' all night. At least tell me your name."

Roderich shook his head, and Gilbert sighed again, but seemed to accept this defeat, for now, anyway. Roderich was absolutely positive Gilbert wouldn't drop this conversation until he got a proper answer.

"Well, if this is your first time, I'm gonna have to show you the ropes! I'll bet the awesome me can do it a million times better than Elizabeta ever could!" the German boasted, his unique laugh budding from his throat yet again.

"Come on, I'll teach you how to dance! But first, I think you might just want some liquid courage." And with that, Roderich's arm was pulled forward, yet again, only this time toward the outer edges of the dance floor. Roderich noticed they were heading toward the illegal bar, and he smelled the alcohol before he saw it.

"What do you want?" Gilbert asked into Roderich's ear. "They have pretty much anything." Roderich merely shook his head, and Gilbert grinned.

"You know," he said, laughter visible in his eyes, "if you don't tell me exactly what you want, I'll just pick something special out for you."

Roderich raised an eyebrow, and stepped away, toward the bar, with Gilbert following. Surprisingly, Roderich waved the bartender over, and pulled down his mask for just a second, just enough time to whisper what he wanted to drink in the older man's ear.

The bartender laughed slightly, and asked "You positive? We've got plenty of things stronger than that."

Roderich shook his head, and the bartender laughed again. "Suit yourself." He poured the Austrian a glass of water.

Gilbert chuckled when he saw what Roderich had asked for, and he calmly demanded a beer for himself. They stood there for a few moments, Roderich gently sipping his glass of water while Gilbert chugged his own beer. He set down the empty cup, and roughly grabbed Roderich's wrist, tugging him once more onto the dance floor. The lights still flashed around them, and Roderich was surprised he hadn't gotten a headache yet.

"I'm gonna teach you how to dance, pretty boy!"

At these words, Roderich's wrist was dropped and Gilbert began moving to the beat of the music.

"Come on, it's really easy~ surely you can handle it." Gilbert said teasingly, and Roderich sighed. He was really going to regret this…Gilbert grabbed both of his wrists, and began pulling them back and forth, so his torso was moving side to side.

"Now just bounce up and down a lot, and you're all set!"

Roderich hopped once, pathetically. Really, it was a disgrace to all hops everywhere.

"Really, Roddy? Surely you can do better than that!" Gilbert laughed out, and Roderich rolled his eyes, and tried again. At least he managed to get off of his feet this time. But, Roderich noticed, Gilbert didn't tease him this time. Instead, he was frozen in place, looking at Roderich strangely. The Austrian could only stare back in confusion, and try to figure out what had happened to make Gilbert this way.

Roderich thought through their whole conversation, and then his eyes widened.

"Roderich…? That's seriously you?" Gilbert asked, shock covering every inch of his face. Roderich could only nod.

"Dammit, Roddy! Why didn't you just say so? Why the fuck have you been silent the whole damn night?" Gilbert seemed furious, and continued berating Roderich until he snapped.

"Because I'm not supposed to be Roderich Edelstein tonight, Gilbert! Tonight I am supposed to be someone else, not what everyone else knows me as!" He yelled, tearing off his mask, and shoved past the German, attempting to get out of the building to get some fresh air. He heard Gilbert mutter an obscenity, and follow him.

He just continued, ignoring Gilbert's attempt to get him to stop. He saw a door, and immediately went through it to the outside world. The cold air hit him, and his eyes instantly watered.

"Roderich! Come on, Roderich, shit, can we just talk?" Gilbert yelled through the clear air, grabbing the brunette's shoulder. Roderich shrugged him off, and turned around rapidly.

"What do you propose we speak of, Gilbert? I came here to be someone else; you were here, so I decided I would see how long it took you to figure out who I was. Obviously it didn't take that long, so I didn't do a good enough job, so I'm leaving!" He yelled, then felt utterly exhausted. He sat down, head in his hands.

"Why on earth would you want to be someone else? Your life is perfect…" Gilbert sighed, sitting next to the Austrian.

Roderich scoffed. "Oh, sure. Getting teased by the likes of you every day since I met you, that's perfect, all right." He bit out through his teeth, and Gilbert turned to him, eyes wide.

"You came here…to forget me?"

"Of course I did, idiot. You're positively insufferable."

"I'm sorry."

Roderich looked up at the German, who was looking down at the ground, dejected. He truly looked apologetic, as if he would do anything, anything at all to take back every single mean thing he had ever said to the Austrian.

"I accept your apology." Roderich haughtily replied, and the German laughed bitterly.

"Do you, though?"

"Good question." Roderich scowled. He hadn't meant to let that slip out, but, now that he had, there was no way to pull it back in to his mind.

Gilbert looked up from the dewy grass, and looked up at the night sky. He leaned back, resting on his hands, legs twisted together criss-cross applesauce.

"I used to watch the stars every night, you know."

"Oh?" Roderich asked, wondering what that had to do with anything.

"Yeah. I can't remember any of them now, though. But I do remember, one night, I didn't want to hang out with Grandpa and West, so I left to go see Antonio and Francis at the park. I think I was eleven or twelve when this happened. Now, the park was a good four or five miles away, so I decided to take a shortcut through the woods on the outskirts of the neighborhood. I knew there were some houses on the other side, but I figured if I was really quiet, no one would see me.

Then I got lost. It was really dark that night; the moon wasn't anywhere near full. I could barely see my hands in front of my face, let alone where I was walking. Then I heard a piano." Gilbert stopped talking here, and turned his head turned Roderich, and he was smiling a small smile.

"You did?" Roderich asked softly, asking him with his eyes to continue.

"Yeah. I followed the sound, figuring I would find a house, and then be able to ask directions inside or something. I kept walking, the sound getting louder and louder, and I walked into a backyard. I saw this huge window, almost from floor to ceiling, but not quite; I could see a piano through it.

It was you. You were playing it. I recognized you from school, but I had no idea you could play like that. It was…the most beautiful thing I had ever heard. And I just…sat down in your yard, right there, and listened to you for hours. The second you stopped playing one song, you would start up another, and I just couldn't stop. It was addicting. You were addicting." Roderich was positively frozen, transfixed with the words spilling out of Gilbert's mouth.

"I was?" He whispered.

"You still are. Every time you play, you just get this…look on your face, as if that was the only thing that could ever matter to you. As if music solved every problem you could ever have. And I hated that."

"What?" Roderich asked, shocked.

"I hated that you chose music over me. Ever since I first heard you, did you notice that I started trying to find you all over school? How I was in the music room whenever you were? I wanted you to see me, to think that I could take away your problems, not that damn piano of yours." He said, and got closer.

"Well, you certainly made me see you, banging around the music room, slamming on the keys of my piano whenever I played, and other such nonsense. But why did you go about it like that?" Roderich asked the German, who shrugged.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time." He said, and continued getting closer to the violet-eyed boy.

"Well, yes, we were children then. Why on earth do you still act like that?"

"Because I'm awesome like that." Gilbert whispered, and snaked his hand around Roderich's head, gripping the Austrian's neck. The brunette was frozen under the silverette's touch, and they stared at each other for a few moments, ruby red into beautiful violets.

Neither of them was quite sure who moved first, the German or the Austrian, but suddenly they were close, touching, kissing.

Roderich gasped when he felt Gilbert's lips against his own, and Gilbert slid his tongue in…

"Yes, asshole, I'm sure I saw them come out here! What, you think I'm blind or something?" Elizabeta yelled out through the cold air, as she walked through the same door Roderich and Gilbert had just minutes ago. Vladimir trailed after her, and he spit something out back, but neither of the boys heard what it was.

The Hungarian and Romanian continued arguing for a few more moments, unaware of the two boys frozen on the ground in front of them. Of course, as was inevitable, Elizabeta stopped, eyebrows raised to an almost comical extent, staring down at the scene below her. Vladimir had stopped, too, although his expression was more amused than shocked.

"Oh. Um…I-I'm sorry, we'll just, uh, be going back inside now." Elizabeta stuttered, her face turning a seemingly impossible shade of red, and she turned around, grabbing Vladimir's hand. The blonde blinked a few times, but allowed himself to be dragged, his bemused smile even more so.

As the two walked back inside the building, the two intertwined boys looked back at each other. Fear was evident in Roderich's eyes, coupled with shame and humiliation.

"Shit…" The Austrian murmured, and Gilbert was shocked. He had never heard Roderich utter a curse in his whole life; why did this ordeal cause him to break this unwritten rule?

"Hey, it's okay. It's just Liz, she won't tell, you know her. And I'll get Vladimir to shut up, although I'm pretty sure he wouldn't say anything anyway." Gilbert attempted to reassure the brunette, and was promptly shoved off of the shorter boy.

"Don't say it like that! Gott, how dense can you be? They probably think that we're…well…" Roderich sat up, turning away from the silverette as his face turned the same shade Elizabeta's had moments ago.

"So what if they do?" Gilbert asked incredulously, reaching out a pale hand to grab Roderich's; the Austrian shook him off.

"Because I'm supposed to hate you!" He burst out, and then gasped. He had let it out. He had said it. Oh, God, he had said it. Oh no. Oh no. Nein. Er soll das nicht sprechen [1].

"What?" Gilbert asked, shocked yet again. But Roderich never answered; he had already leapt to his feet, running back into the building.

"Roderich! Wait!" Gilbert cursed. What was today, a giant game of tag?

By the time the albino had gotten into the building, he had lost sight of Roderich.

Gilbert calmly walked into the public library, his backpack slung over his shoulder, papers and binder sticking out of the top slovenly. He saw Roderich sitting in a chair, by a little blonde boy with giant eyebrows. Gilbert dimly recalled that it was Arthur Kirkland's little brother, Peter. He had only seen the boy on a few occasions, only when he had gone over to Arthur's with Mathias Køhler, just to have a change from Antonio and Francis for the pure sake of change.

Gilbert strode over to the table where the two sat, and he roughly grabbed a chair, and plopped his backpack on the table, sitting down. Roderich looked up at the ceiling tiredly, and Peter merely looked at him funnily, as if trying to remember who he was.

"What, Peter? Don't remember the awesome me?" Gilbert asked, his grin wider than ever.

Peter gained a look of understanding, and said "Yeah, you're Gilbert. I remember you because you and Arthur came home smelling really bad, and mom yelled at you because she said you guys were drinking, and that you shouldn't have been."

Gilbert saw Roderich raise a questioning eyebrow.

"Yes we did. But you probably shouldn't follow our example; your brother, Mathias and I…well, most people would dub us as a "bad influence" so it'd be best to ignore us. Okay?" Gilbert asked, leaning forward conspiratorially, and Peter nodded his assention.

"Good. Now listen to your tutor, I'm sure whatever it is he's teaching you is of the utmost importance." Gilbert said, tapping his nose with his forefinger with a wink in Roderich's direction. The Austrian merely sniffed, and began to talk about the times tables once again.

Gilbert sat there, intently watching the brunette teach Peter. He noticed that Roderich seemed almost…nervous with him there. He kept accidentally snapping the edge of the pencil, and more than once accidentally said something in German.

Eventually, the two hours were up, and Peter gathered his belongings.

"Thanks, Roddy! I'll see you next week!" Peter called out as he walked out the door, and Gilbert saw a blonde head stick out of the window.

"Oh, hey, Alfred! What're you-" Peter's voice was cut off by the door swinging shut, and Gilbert and Roderich were left alone.

Roderich sighed. "Well, what is it you wish to say, Gilbert?"

Gilbert looked up at the Austrian in front of him. He looked guarded, but Gilbert swore he saw a glimmer of fear in those beautiful eyes.

"I don't regret it."

"Regret what, Gilbert? Seeing me? Dancing with me? Going there at all?" Roderich asked tiredly, and Gilbert realized what he wanted.

"I don't regret kissing you. If I could, I would do it a thousand times over, and make sure that Hungarian bitch never came out, just so I could-"

"Gilbert! We are in a public place!" Roderich hissed, cutting him off. Gilbert shrugged.

"Yeah, and? I would shout to the world how much I want to do that again, if only you'd let me!"

Roderich was quiet for a few moments, until he said "Are you…asking me out?"

"Yes. I suppose I am."

"Why?"

"Do you not remember what I told you? How the sound of your piano brought me out of the woods? You're awesome, Roderich." At this, Roderich scoffed, and Gilbert smiled a little bit, before continuing.

"Well, not as awesome as me, but…I saw you that night, and I knew my life would never be the same. I wanted it to always have you in it, I wanted to be with you, I wanted to call you mine, and I hated that you hated me. I hated that you liked Elizabeta more than me; hell, you even like my little brother more than me! I just…I want to be with you, Roddy. Please." Gilbert stopped talking, the plea in his voice evident. Roderich blinked a few times before he answered. They looked at each other for a few moments, when Roderich broke the silence.

"I accept." Gilbert broke into the largest smile, and he reached out to grab Roderich's hand. The Austrian smiled weakly, looking at their intertwined hands as they were brought to Gilbert's mouth; a small kiss was pressed to the back of his hand, not unlike a prince to his princess.

"So…you know what this means, right?" Gilbert asked, looking deeply into Roderich's eyes.

"That you have to take my opinions seriously now?" Roderich supplied hopefully, and Gilbert chuckled.

"No. It means we can have sex~" He said, his smile wider than before. Roderich flushed furiously, and he stuttered, but then sighed.

"We have to wait, at least. I will not have this relationship be based off of sex, Gilbert." He said, his eyes serious.

Gilbert laughed.

"For you, I'd wait forever."

[1] Nein. Er soll das nicht sprechen (German). No. He shouldn't have said that. (English)

Hm…this is a lot shorter than I originally planned, but hopefully it doesn't look too rushed. I actually got writer's block in the middle, so I'm sorry if the ending is…less desirable. It's so blah, but I had to finish it, so…

Oh, and yes, I did just set up Romania/Hungary (sort of…). That one's next! But I'm going to have to come up with all new fight scenes…that's gonna suck. I hate doing fight scenes. I'm not too good at insults…

And for those of you who are reading my Viking AU Kilmuir, I have been putting it off in order to write this. Sorry for the delay, I'm going to get on chapter three (four for those who count prologues as chapters) immediately.

R&R! Whoever does gets Gilbird!