Stop Kiss - Hetalia
This is based on the play "Stop, Kiss" by Diana Son. The dialouge is pretty much the script, I just added all the action, just like a director would do with a play. I also changed character names and genders.
Poland + Prussia, Mentions: Lithuania, Russia, Czech (OC), Hungary
WARNINGS: Real names
CHAPTER 1
Feliks's apartment is a mess, clean but cluttered. Every flat surface is covered with stuff. And he knows where everything is by instict if nothing else. He has no reason to clean up, no one ever comes over, they always go to Toris' apartment on thier fling nights.
Feliks keys up a new playlist on his computer, and Best of My Love starts playing as he gets up closing all the blinds before the vocals start. He lip-syncs along with the polish of someone who does private karaoke frequently.
Doesn't take much to make me happy
and make me smile
As he sings he takes his bowl to the sink and washes his dinner dishes.
Never never will I feel discouraged
Cause our love's no mystery
Demonstrating love and affection
That you give so openly yeah
I like the way ya make me about you baby
Want the whole wide world to see
Whoa whoa, you got the best of my love
Whoa whoa, you got the best of my love
Just as Feliks gets to to the chorus the phone rings, and he jumps to turn off the music like a busted teenager.
"Hi Toris...yeah I know I'm, like, late, I totally forgot this person is coming to my house at -" Feliks checks his stylish watch, "shit!...Well I would, totally, bring him along but I, like, don't even know him. He's a friend of an old friend of someone I used to be frie- He just, like, moved to the city and I said that I'd - I can't, what if he's some big dud and we all have a miserable time... Exactly, you'll all blame me. Give me half an hour, tops." Just as Feliks hangs up the phone, his buzzer goes off. He dashes to press the speaker button.
"Yes?"
Through the little box came a cocky voice, "It's Gilbert and -"
"Come on up." Feliks cut him off, pushing the button that unlocks the front door. He looks around his appartment, suddenly seeing the mess which includes dirty socks, newspapers, Kleenex, his mail, several DVDs and a bra. He picks up the bra and shoots it into the bedroom just as the doorbell rings. He skips to the door and opens it, revealing a slightly taller man with white hair and red eyes holding a pet carrier.
"Hi" Feliks says, feeling stupid.
"You're Feliks."
"Yes."
"I'm Gilbert, and this is Gilbird." The taller man says, nodding to the carrier, "I can't believe you're doing this."
Feliks motions to the couch, "Please uh sit-" cutting himself off as he notices the mess residing on the couch in question.
"Some appartment."
"I was cleaning." The blond says, as he pushes a pile of stuff off the couch onto the floor in the corner.
"It's huge-and the neighborhood-" Gilbert says nonchalantly, hiding his amazement behind his usual cocky attatude, and sits on the couch mindless of the mess.
Seeing where he sat, Feliks says, "You can't be comfortable."
"Oh I am."
"Are you sure?" Feliks counters, eyebrow cocked.
"Very."
"I'm just-...let me get rid of this stuff." Feliks stammers, grabbing an armful of junk and heads into the bedroom. As soon as he clears the room, Gilbert pulls a large key ring of sharp pointy keys and a candle out from under himself with a grimace. He hides the candle among the junk on the floor and places the keys inconspicuously on the coffee table, under a month old newspaper. He then clears some space on the couch so that Feliks can sit when he returns.
"Coffee!" Feliks calls from the bedroom door as he enters, holding a can of the stuff which he apparently found in the bedroom.
Blink. "-would be great. Listen, this is so nice of you-" Glibert tracked the perky blond as he passed into the kitchen area and started the coffee.
"I was thinking about getting a cat anyway. This'll totally give me a chance to see if I can hack it." Feliks responded, brushing off the thanks, while putting some water on to boil.
"That's how I feel about New York."
"Oh yes."
"How long have you been here?" Gilbert asks as he gets up and joins Feliks in the kitchen.
"Eleven years." Was the response, as Feliks was measuring the proper amount of coffee grounds into the French Press he used for coffee.
"I lived in St. Louis my whole life. My parents live like, half an hour away. I go there for dinner when it's not even anybody's birthday. Things there - it's been, it is so -"
"Easy?"
"So easy."
"It's hard here."
"Good - great, I can't wait." Gilbert exlaimed.
"Yeah, you uh- what do you...do?" Feliks paused while reaching for a couple of coffee mugs.
"I teach. Third grade." Gilbert said.
"Well it won't be hard finding a job." Feliks said after getting over the fact that this cocky man was a teacher, he didn't look like a teacher, ripped jeans and a band t-shirt didn't seem like a third grade teacher's uniform.
"I already have one." Gilbert smirked.
"Where?"
"P.S. 32 in the Bronx."
"What was the school like that you came from?" Felix asked, waiting for the water to boil.
"Society of Friends, a Quaker school."
This caught Feliks off-guard and he burst into laughter, trying to picture this man who seemed like he stepped off of a punk rock CD cover, teaching in a Quaker school. "I'm, like, not...I'm, totally, not laughing at you, I'm laughing around..."
"It's obviously - It's very... but I can do good work there." Gilbert shrugged off the pole's response.
"I'm sure you're a good teacher." Feliks said in appology.
"No you don't know, but I am."
There was a awkward pause as the water came to a boil and Feliks poured it into the decanter with the grounds and placed the lid on. Feliks just had to fill the silence, "Where in the Bronx?"
"Tremont." Was the short reply, Gilbert seemed lost in thought.
"Is that where...Taft, is it Taft?" The blonde said, remembering something from the news awhile back.
"Taft High School?"
"You've heard of it?" Feliks asked, checking on the coffee, determining that it was ready.
"Mm hm." Was the pensive response.
Feliks just continued, not realizing that his guest was disturbed by the topic, "You know there was a guy who taught there, this rich white guy-"
"Yes I know." Gilbert cut him off.
There was a pause as Feliks poured their coffee into the mismatched mugs.
"He got killed-" Feliks started, not able to give up that topic.
"By a student. I'm here on a fellowship set up in his name." Gilbert interrupted the blonde, giving a little insight into his pensiveness.
"How long is the fellowship?"
"Two years."
Feliks hands one of the coffee mugs to Gilbert, "Well, congratulations -"
"Thank you." Gilbert said, accepting the mug.
"Best of luck-" Gilbert just nods, "and ... if it gets too rough - like, go home."
Feliks touches his mug to Gilbert's, but Gilbert doesn't move, just staring into the black liquid.
"What brought you to New York?" Gilbert asked quietly.
Feliks takes a big breath, preparing for the long and interesting story that he then realizes that he doesn't have, instead giving the short, truth, "College."
"And what keeps you?"
"Keeps me from what?"
"What do you do?"
"I...ruin things for everyone else." Feliks shrugs and moves toward the couch, seeking someplace to sit down.
"You're Rudolph Giuliani?" Gilbert snorted into his coffee.
Feliks threw a look over his sholder, "I'm a traffic reporter for a twenty-four-hour news radio station."
"Helicopters!" Gilbert said, coming out of his slump, and looking impressed.
"The inbound land at the Holland Tunnel is closed due to a car accident," Feliks mimed, using his coffee mug as a microphone, "The Brooklyn-bound land of the Williamsburg Bridge is under construction through 2012. The D Train is not running due to a track fire. You can't get in. You can't get out. You can't get around. I'll be back in ten minutes to tell you that nothing has changed."
"Does that get to you?" Gilbert asks as he walks over to the window.
Feliks shrugs, "It's a living." And plops down on the couch.
Gilbert sips his coffee and finally takes a good look at the apartment. "How long have you lived in this appartment?"
"Five years - well, two by myself - it's a funny - not haha - story." Feliks says, interupting himself.
"It's okay." The taller man said, shrugging as if to tell the blonde that he didn't have to tell.
"I moved in here with my boyfriend, Ivan. This was his aunt's appartment, she lived here for twenty years."
"Your rent must be-"
"Lucky."
"You are."
"Well, I got the apartment, he got ... my sister." Feliks said, full of hurt.
"Oh."
"They live in LA now. It's perfect." Feliks said, voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Well at least i don't mean to be crass but-" Gilbert said tentativly.
"Yes, no, well I ... like the apartment." Feliks answered, not quite sure of his answer.
"It's as big as mine and I'm sharing it with two other people."
"Are they - Did you...move here with any of them?" Feliks asked of the man who was now leaning on the back of the couch.
"No, they came with the appartment. They're a couple. It's kinda awkward but, he's sweet, she's sweet, they seem to have a -" Gilbert describes whistfully.
"-Sweet?" Feliks interjects, with a grin.
"-relationshipthey'refine." Gilbert finishes embarsed.
Feliks nods, "It's awkward."
"Rents are so - Everything is so-"
"It's impossible to live here." Feliks confirms. Gilbert takes the moment to study Feliks, realizing something about the vivacious blonde.
"You love it."
"You know, Gilbert, I've actually been to St. Louis and it's a quaint, pretty city but - what's the point of that? Everyone's still got their cars all geared up with Clubs and car alarms and computerized keys. And you have to drive all the way across town to get to the good cheap placed to eat. And drive I mean you're in a city and you have to drive to get around?" Feliks starts calm but it grows into almost a rant, and drive is almost a swear word.
"Where did you grow up?"
"Tiny town upstate."
"Industrial?"
"Countrified suburb. Tractor display in the middle of the mall." Feliks said with a smirk.
"Pretty, though?" Gilbert asked, trying to place the pieces.
"I can't connect with mountains, trees, the little animals - they snub me. You know how you can be with two other people and you're all having a great time. Then the person sitting next to you says something in French and the two of them burst in laughter, best laugh anyone's had all night. And you're left out because you took Spanish in the seventh grade, not French. That's what nature does to me. Speaks French to the other people at the table." While Feliks is speaking, Gilbert sneaks around and sits in the space on the couch he cleared earlier.
"I hate jazz."
"You do?" Feliks asks, puzzled by this nonsequitor.
"I don't usually say that out loud because then people think I don't have a soul or something but I don't like the way it sounds. I don't like saxophones." Gilbert explained.
"My sister played the saxophone."
"I'm sorry -"
"I hate my sister."
"The one who-"
"Yeah."
"I hate your sister too."
Feliks smiles, really smiles at Gilbert, who slowly mirrors the blonde. Gilbert realizing that they're smiling at eachother after a moment, and he looks away embarsed.
"So, do your friends thing you're crazy?" Feliks asked the other man, to break the tension.
"Pff. Forget it. And my parents and Elizabeth."
"Huh?"
"-my ex. I mean I've never lived away from them. Even when I was in college I came home every weekend." The white-haired man revealed.
"Close family." Feliks remarked, taking one last swig of his coffee.
"It's..." He pauses searching for the right word, "a cult. It's embarrasssing. I should've moved...I mean, you were what, eighteen?"
"Don't look at me. I was goingt to go to one of thoes colleges that advertise on matchbook covers. My guidance counselor filled out my application to NYU." Feliks shrugged off the admiration.
"I had to interview five times to get this fellowship. By the fourth one I had a rabbit's foot, rosary beads, crystals, a tiger's tooth and a Polynesian tiki all in my bag-now that I got this fellowship I have every god to pay." Gilbert explained. Upon hearing this Feliks began digging into one of the piles under the coffee table, extracting a Magic 8 Ball, which he hands to Gilbert.
"What should I ask it?" Gilbert asks the blonde.
"Something whose answer you won't take too seriously?" Always the pragmatist.
Gilberts says to the ball, "Was moving to New York a good idea?" and gives it a good shake, puzzled by the result, "It's sort of in between two of them."
"That means yes." The pair exchange another smile. Then Gilbert stands up, stretching.
"I should go, I'm taking up too much of your-"
Feliks looks at his watch. "I told some friends I would meet them, otherwise I wish-"
"You should've said-"
"No-No-"
"I didn't mean to keep-"
"What're you doing this weekend?" Feliks finally asked.
"I don't know. Unpacking. But then I gotta do something New Yorky, don't I?" Gilbert responded with his cocky grin.
"Do you want to come over and I'll take you around the neighborhood? Show you some fun places to go to and eat-"
"Yes!"
"An you can hang out here, spend some time with... is it Gilbird?"
Gilbert rushed to the carrier, suprised that he forgot about his cat, "Gilbird, forgive me. He hates being in this thing."
"Let him out."
Gilbert opens the door, "He may be a little shy at first, in a new place with a new person-"
"You could come and visit him. Just let me know. I hope you'll feel-"
"Thanks, Feliks." Gilbert said, hugging the smaller man.
"For nothing, for what." Feliks said, incoherently into the other man's shoulder. Gilbert released him and exited, leaving the blonde standing in the middle of his apartment with a gray tabby staring at him with eyes that read, 'Feed me!'
END CHAPTER 1
AN: Gilbird is a cat, named Gilbird. I don't know why, he just is.
Feliks used to date Ivan. But they broke up and Ivan married Poland's sister (Czech)