Hey guys, here is a oneshot I came up with after reading an "Imagine this" somewhere. I hope you'll like it. At the end of the story I'll tell you what the "Imagine this" was. Don't want to spoil things... Have fun

Again? How many times has it been this week? And not just this week, the whole month. I sighed as I looked at the clock again, noticing that another 30 minutes had passed since the last time I checked. Mathias was going to get an angry me when he finally decided to come home. I sighed again and walked into the kitchen to prepare my fourth cup of coffee tonight.

It wasn't that rare for Mathias to come home late. He always did that, especially if he'd run into Daan and Gilbert on the way home. But I had asked him several times this week to be on time, because we had to make preparations for the surprise party for Tiino and Berwald. So far, he had only been late 4 out of 4 times, the latest being two hours later than I had hoped. But today he had topped it with a whopping four and a half hours, which could turn into five easily. I growled, sipping my coffee. Why did I even bother living with him?

After finishing my coffee, I washed the dishes, vacuumed the kitchen at a lack of something better to do and took a shower in attempt to calm my nerves, which, of course, failed. Finally giving up, I went to the bedroom, my Danish boyfriend still not home after five and a half hours. Oh, how I hated him right now. I had turned off all the lights in the house, a sign for him that I was not too happy. Usually I would leave on the porch light and the one in the hallway so he wouldn't trip over his own drunk arse. But tonight I hated him, so I couldn't care less. Even though it probably meant that I would be woken up soon by him, because he tripped over everything lose or attached in this house and because he was cussing like a Viking, with the volume of one.

I shrugged to myself as I climbed into the big bed, feeling the cold cotton sheets underneath my hands, a feeling I welcomed. I was tired.

"It's his own fault for being so irresponsible", I said out loud, something I only did when no one was around. Usually I was quite stoic and you may hear people say that I am expression or emotionless. But nothing is more true, since I do care about people a lot and I feel just as many emotions as my idiotic oaf of a boyfriend. I am just not so good at showing them, is that such a crime?

"I guess I could have left a note or something to prepare him for this… But…" I sighed, rolling around. Part of my wanted to cuddle the man that would usually lie next to me, but then I realised that he wasn't here. I frowned. Of all the men in the world, why did I fall for him?

It wasn't like I couldn't have known. Mathias and I had been friends ever since middle school. At that time I had already known I was gay, my first kisses were with our mutual friend Berwald. I knew that the Swede had a crush on me, so I took advantage of that. Yes, I am a little bit of a horrible person. But honestly, what would you do if you lived in a tiny village, no other official gay people around. Yes, go to a gay bar. That will totally work when you are around thirteen years old. Not. After Mathias had transferred, I fell in love with him quite soon. I still don't know why I love him. He is handsome, I'll give him that. I also tell him that, very rarely, but I do tell him. His eyes are really captivating and he looks so, forgive me for this description, adorable when he smiles, that I can't help but also smile a little.

But other than that… His personality is annoying, his voice is loud and it really irritates me. On top of that he never seems to shut up or anything. He is clingy and wants to hold my hand all the time, something that really embarrasses me. Please don't tell him that though. He is way too cheerful if you ask me. But perhaps that is what I love about him. He just is everything I am not and he can break down my walls and make me feel comfortable. But I wouldn't ever dream about telling him that. Oh, and he is good in bed. What? I value it that my partner knows how to make me feel incredibly good. I will take a sore arse for that. I don't know how he does it, but his body is magic.

The sound of someone crashing into something violently, followed by a loud curse interrupted my thoughts. "Well, if it isn't that stupid Dane", I thought, letting out a sigh. Here we go. I rolled around again, gripping the blankets a bit more, pulling them up to my chest. I loved sleeping like this, curled up into my blankets. Which is why Mathias and I both had our own set of blankets. That, and because Mathias was always way too warm, according to himself.

The noises downstairs continued, more cussing words flying up to the room where they lost their volume at the door. I mentally prepared myself for the coming argument, putting a few sentences I wanted to throw towards my other half on a mental note. There was no way I was going to let this slip again. No matter how many kisses he would give me, how many hugs he gave me, regardless of all the promises he would make. He had crossed the line, for good. I was so fed up with him coming home late, reeking of alcohol and tasting like it, completely pissed. He usually also smelled like women. Thus far I hadn't found a single stamp of lipstick on him, but I swear to Odin, if that day would ever come…

I heard cussing on the stairs as my gigantic dork made his way up them, seemingly unaware of the time and the possibility that I was sleeping. Obviously, I wasn't, but it would have been nice if he would have shown some consideration towards me. Don't get me wrong, he usually was very considerate. Unless he was smashed.

I massaged my temples and tried to fight off the nerves that were gathering in the pit of my stomach. For some reason, whenever that idiot came home drunk, I would feel nervous, anxious. Whether it was because of the things that would follow after (he would always try to make me feel as good as possible after he came home with 10 beers and 3 shots of vodka in his blood) or because of… Well, I was always a little scared that he would be angry. My father had been that way. Whenever he came home drunk, he would be angry. He'd yell, cuss, throw things at me and my little brother. Sometimes he would lay his hands on us. That's why I trained my fighting with Berwald and Mathias. Even though I was small, at the age of 15 I finally managed to fight back for the first time. But those memories aren't nice, so let's not talk about this.

I flinched at the sound of my boyfriend trying to open our bedroom door. After a bit of a (loud) struggle, he finally opened it, slamming it into the wall. That probably caused a dent.

"You finally decided to show up, huh?", I asked, my voice dripping with passive aggression. I could hear Mathias swallow.

"Heya Norge…" How I hated it when he used that name in these kind of situations. A nickname was something cute, something lovely. Not something you used when your significant other was angry. Not that I felt significant to him at this point. He really was good at making me feel like I was in heaven and also very good at making me feel like I was in hell. Tonight, it was the latter.

"Don't call me Norge. Do you know what time it is, Mathias Køhler? Do you even have the slightest idea, how long I have been waiting for you? And what is with this smell? God, get out of here. I don't want to see, hear or smell you right now." The stench coming off from my boyfriend was horrible, not only alcohol, but drugs also mixed with his natural scent. He hadn't been taking it easy tonight.

"Listen, Nor- Lukas", he corrected himself, before walking towards the bed. "I'm sorry, okay? I'll shower and then come back, please hear me out after that, okay? Please?" He pleas would get him nowhere. I was really pissed off now. He never used drugs and he also knew that I hated them. Not only did my father drink a lot, but he also used all sorts of addictive substances that made him irrational and unable to make out what he did and whether it was right or not.

"No Mathias. I will not hear you out. You will hear me out." My voice was dark, stern and filled with anger. It was raised slightly, to such a volume that it made shivers run down your spine. I was really, really angry right now. Furious.

"For the past few days, weeks, heck, months I have been patiently waiting for you to come home. Almost every time you were late, at least an hour. Never did you bother to text me, tell me you'd be late. For all I know you could have been killed and raped 5 times in that time. You always get here, smashed, smelling of women and cheap alcohol. You're never quiet, you always turn the house into a gigantic mess, even though I leave the lights on for you so you can see where you are going. You always run straight into the bedroom, usually waking me up or, when I am not in bed yet, you jump on me wherever I am, not taking any notice of what I am doing. You'd even do that if I were talking to the queen." I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. I felt tears pricking in my eyes. How I hated this.

"I'm sorry…" I heard Mathias coming closer again, so I shook my head, getting up from the bed.

"I wasn't done yet. I never complained once about this. You know I hate it when you are drunk, you know it scares me. Yet you always do it, especially in the weekends, the only time we ever really have together without having to work. I care for you Mathias, which is why I let you get away with this. Even this week. You've been coming home late every day this week, even though I've asked you countless times to be home on time because we had to prepare the party. Did you listen to me once? No. And look at you now! You're drunk, you stink of drugs and women, your clothes are dirty and…"

I had started to shout at Mathias, something I never did. The poor guy seemed to shrink at my words, flinching as the volume of my voice increased. He knew that he had gone too far. I was trembling, my hands clutched into fists, nails digging into the soft palms. The salty water was still poking my eyes, threatening to seep out. I wouldn't let them, not yet.

"Look, Lukas, I said I'm sorry. But me and the guys, it was just too much fun… Antonio had finally managed to get Lovino so far to let him go for once as well and we just wanted to have a good time. I'm sorry that I didn't text, my phone was out of battery. It won't happen again, I promise."

"That is the most pathetic excuse I have ever heard from you, Mathias Køhler." I could see him flinch at his name. He really was sorry and he really regretted it. But I just didn't believe him anymore. It had been too many times that he had spent an anniversary, birthday or any other day that we had promised to spend together, in the bar with his boys. It was just like he didn't care about me anymore. "You and I both know that it's not true. Your phone is always dead, but after we have sex you can somehow magically text Francis or update your facebook. Is that stupid Spaniard really so much fun that you have to be home at two a.m. instead of eight p.m.? Do you really care so little about me that you forget about me?"

The short silence between us was crushing my ears. I felt the air in my lungs being forced out by it as I stared at Mathias, who avoided my eyes by staring at the dark red carpet in our room. I sighed before I answered, bringing my hands to my head to massage my temples. "You know what, Mathias. I'm done with you. Get out. Take your stupid phone, your flashy clothes and stupid smelly shampoo and soap and get out. Move to Alaska, freeze your annoying face off, I don't care. I don't want to see you anymore."

"But Lukas-"

"Out Mathias!" My voice had turned a bit louder again. Mathias looked as if he was about to cry.

"Please don't-"

"Mathias Køhler, get OUT!" He flinched again, the third time this evening.

"Love, please, don't be like this, I love you…" The Dane's voice nothing more than a whimper.

"Are you deaf?! Get. OUT. OF. MY. HOUSE. NOW!" I walked over to the other side of the room to grab a bag in which he could put his stupid things. I wanted him gone.

To be honest, I never was a drama queen. Or king, since I am a guy. I rarely started fights, except for those occasions when someone said something about my brother. If you insult him, you'll die by my hand, simple as that. But usually I was quite the forgiving person. Which is why I have tolerated Mathias for so long. I guess that's what love does to you. But this was the last bit. I just couldn't take any more. I wanted Mathias to realise that. I had told him many times already that he was late and he always apologised, saying that it would never happen again. But it always happened again. And now he was going to face the consequences. I didn't want to be with someone who can't even come home on time.

"Mathias, I am counting to three and then you're out of here. There is no use in being with someone who can't even tell the time. Now get out. Grab your stuff and move. One." My voice was harsh, just like my actions. I could see Mathias' eyes widen at my words, realising what they meant.

"No, Lukas, please! Don't do this, I love you, please I.." He then shut his mouth. He knew as well that his promises were hollow. He realised how he had been treating me for the past two years. Ever since we moved closer to his friends, this had been happening.

"Two. Grab your most important things and get out of here! I'm done!" Mathias still didn't move. He seemed to be thinking about something. For a moment I wondered what it was, but then I told myself not to. He was no longer my boyfriend. I closed my eyes, suddenly realising that I had lost him. I still loved him, so of course this hurt me. It was not like I hated him. I just hated his irresponsible side. While I had my eyes closed, I didn't notice how Mathias walked towards me, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet.

"Thr- Oh my god what the-", I shouted, as I felt myself getting lifted. The Dane underneath me started to walk out of the door, down the stairs, into the hallway. Surprisingly, he didn't trip over anything this time. Was he faking to be drunk when he came home? "What are you doing you-" My insult was muffled by a pair of sweet lips. They were hot, tasted of alcohol and weed. But I melted. Like always, I melted into a pile of Lukas, like butter in a hot pan. He was a wizard. (Yer' a wizard, Mathias, I sometimes told him when he started kissing me. It made him laugh.) He had complete control over me. Wanting to kiss in a better angle, he put me down, wrapping his arms around me so that I couldn't run away.

"Why did you do that?", I hissed, still angry with him. I earned a sad smile as a response. He pulled me closer until our hips were touching.

"You told me to grab my most important things. The most important thing, or more, person, in this world to me, is you." I could see him blush. Even though it was almost pitch black in our hallway, I could see it, feel it. "I'm really sorry Lukas. Please, forgive me one more time. Please tell me how to make it up to you. When you told me to get out and just grab my things, that you didn't want to be with someone who can't even tell the time, I just…" Tears were now streaming down his face, leaving a dark string on his cheeks. "I know, tomorrow, we'll go on a date. We'll do whatever you want, eat ice cream, look at the ocean and not hold hands until we're all alone at the beach. We'll sit on that rock we always sit on, you know? I'll give you my coat, even though I'm cold and you're probably not. But you just look so adorable and lovely when you are wearing it, I can't help it. Please, darling, don't leave me. Or make me leave. I love you. I love you so, so much."

Before that stupid Dane could say any more stupid, embarrassing things, I shyly kissed his tears away, still fighting mine. How could I ever hate this person?

"Okay. Okay, we'll go on a date. You'll pay, I want to hold hands all day and I want kisses, a lot of kisses to make up for tonight. You're my boyfriend and I don't want anyone else to doubt that. You'll have to use my shampoo when you shower, because you can't smell of other people. You're mine, and mine alone. And I'll wear your stupid "I love Norway" shirt. Because only I can wear your shirts. No one else. And at night we'll cuddle and kiss and drink a glass of wine. And you cook, you hear me?"

Now the tears were streaming down my face. I really hoped he wouldn't ever come home drunk again. I felt him nod and he pulled my chest against his.

"Yeah, we'll do that." I didn't respond, I just kissed him.

So, I hope they're not too much OOC (OTL). I just like to think that Lukas has a lot of feelings for Mathias and Mathias doesn't always realise this, being the dork he is. Daan is Netherlands, in case you didn't realise ^^

The "Imagine this" went like this: Imagine Nor and Den getting into an argument and Nor telling Den to "take his most important things and get out" and Den just picking up Nor and walking out. This is what happened.

~Hana