Oliver Kirkland and the Cake Factory
Chapter One
A 2P "Hetalia" Fanfiction
Oliver curled up on the ground, running his hand down his bloodied face. All he wanted was Al. Al obviously didn't want Oliver. That day he had made his way over to speak with Al on the terms of an idea he had. Oliver had a spot open in his new cake factory, he needed an assistant. Since he had his eyes on Al for a long time Oliver was determined to have him fill the position. After Oliver stated the proposal Al snarled and gave no sign of being interested. Oliver attempted to get inside the house but Al kicked him away from the door, knocking him on the ground. The door slammed shut and Al walked up to Oliver, holding his nail adorned bat and bashed the smaller man across the face and a couple times on the midsection and legs. After then telling him to get away, quite fiercely, Oliver staggered up to a standing position and ran off to where he was later, coiled into a defensive ball with blood streaming down his skin.
What was it worth to stand anyway? It would just cause him more pain in his legs. Oliver gritted his teeth as another wave of throbbing from the lacerations washed over his body. Somewhere not too far he heard footsteps. A tall man walked over to him, glared down, almost scarily but at the same time with some pity. "Of all the people to talk to, Oliver, you pick the one person who hates you the most." The voice belonged to none other than Max Williams. Max was right. While Oliver had a strange affinity with Al, one that seemed to fade by each rejection, Al himself absolutely despised Oliver.
"Hey, Al!" Oliver called. Al looked over and gave a small smile. He stood and closed the distance between himself and Oliver.
Al ran a hand through his hair, brushing a small bit from his eyes. "What's up, Oliver?" Al was normally happy for some company, especially knowing Oliver's tendency to want to make everyone smile. The two exchanged cheerful chatter until Al laughed and cussed. "What…was that?" Oliver's face fell to an angry frown. Al stuttered and backed away slightly.
He gave a nervous laugh "Um…s-sorry about that!" Al wasn't sure how Oliver would react to the profanity given that he tended to be unpredictable with his anger. Sometimes Oliver would shrug it off and others…not so much.
"You know how I dislike swearing, do you not?" Oliver's voice sounded slightly deeper. Al sighed, more annoyed than intimidated. "Sigh at me and you will have your mouth cleaned out with bleach." It was the first time Oliver had lost his temper on Al. Sure Al swore a lot but he kept it down around Oliver and Oliver was normally understanding of Al's odd slip up.
Al stopped caring for a moment. "Oh, fuck off." He smirked. Oliver growled in response.
From his back pocket Oliver pulled a small bottle. "I care about you, Al, I really do." While he spoke his face was downcast. Al wasn't too sure how to react to that and for only a second let his guard down. A grin spread across Oliver's face and he lunged at Al, grabbing his dark hair and twisting his head backward. Oliver popped the cap off the bottle and splashed a liquid in Al's mouth. "I was saving this for a treat later but you seem to require it!" It was a fair amount of ammonia dissolved in water. The concoction burned the soft flesh in Al's mouth and went down his throat, causing damage as it traveled. "I do recall our last conversation where I mentioned I would clean your mouth out if necessary."
Oliver recalled that after the incident Al was sick for four months. Oliver tried to visit and apologize during the time however to no avail. And now after yet another attempt to restore their bond Oliver laid on the ground, turning the green grass red. Max stared down at him and groaned. "Don't move around." Max muttered as he motioned to pick up Oliver. Oliver was sufficiently surprised by the gesture.
"Why are you help- " Oliver began to ask but then began to cough, he tried to wipe the blood off his face with his hand when Max grabbed his wrist.
Max lifted Oliver up as carefully as he could. "I told you not to move, you may as well stop talking too." Showing as little empathy as possible, Max carried Oliver over to his own house and took a large red parka from the hanger by the door upon getting inside. He tossed the parka on the couch and set Oliver on top of it. "Give me a moment to get the first aid kid." Max walked off, leaving Oliver with nothing to do but stare at the ceiling.
He had to face it, there was no way he would be able to be friends with Al again. Oliver blamed himself for losing his temper and came close to losing it again during that moment, though he figured he should stay calm as Max was going out of his way to help. Al was nobody, Oliver had no reason to care for some violent, cussing, punk. If anything Al swore more now after Oliver cleaned his mouth out with ammonia, so there was clearly no hope for the dark haired man.
It wasn't terribly long until Max walked back in, and without word he began to remove the clothes near Oliver's wounds. Normally conservative in the area of wardrobe, Oliver flinched a little but he soon calmed down. While Max worked to clean the cuts and slices Oliver glanced him over, true there were some things that were amiss. Max was known to swear too and hardly ever smiled…but he was fast to help someone injured. In that moment Oliver set his sights on someone new.