Full summary:

Underage, afraid and determined to be free from the tidings of marriage, Lukas Bondevik swirls into the horror that is the frontlines of France. The years following 1915 are ones full of surprises, and Lukas' newly-formed friend Matthias Køhler is, also, one full of surprises. Nothing is as it seems, either on the frontlines in France or at home in London. Going through the terrors of war, the moments when Matthias' biggest secrets are revealed, the consequences of marriage and affairs, the pair learn that the only thing that keeps them alive, that keeps them on the edge of sanity, is their undying love for each other. WWI AU. Human AU.

Disclaimer: Hetalia belongs to Himaruya Hidekazu.

Warning: This story will involve several mature and strong references. These include graphic violence, mentions of war, sexual themes, elements of homophobia, marital/domestic/sexual abuse, mention of child abuse/neglect, injury, swearing, mentions/consequences of rape.

May, 1915, London

.

'Your name, son?'

Swallowing, the boy discreetly straightened his shoulders and said, 'Lukas Bondevik, sir.'

The officer whom he was standing in front of wrote it down on a huge piece of paper that stretched from one end of the table to the other. Lukas licked his lips and tried to drown out the sounds around him, focusing only on what was happening at that point. What he could hear, however, was the endless chatter of the countless men in line behind him. He never knew there were so many men in London… but it appeared that desperate times called for desperate measures.

The officer's voice brought him back to earth. 'Alright, Mister Bondevik, may I see your birth certificate?'

Nodding once, Lukas felt his blood run cold. This was it. If this failed, he would have nowhere to run. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out a crumpled, folded piece of paper and held it out for the officer to take. Once it went into his hands, Lukas sucked in a deep breath. He watched as the officer unfolded it and his eyes moved across the black print.

'Tell me your birthday?'

Lukas let out the breath. 'The seventeenth of May, 1897, sir.'

The officer glanced up at him, peering at him over his rounded glasses. 'So you celebrated your eighteenth birthday earlier this week?'

'Yes, sir. We had a garden party and lots of guests,' Lukas told him.

Lies.

There was a pregnant pause in which Lukas and the officer merely stared at each other, the latter's eyes roving up and down Lukas' figure. Then the officer bowed his head, picked up a pen and wrote some things down. Lukas gazed at his shoes quickly before being met with a stack of papers when he lifted his head back up.

'Follow these instructions, son,' the officer said to him, his tone grave. 'You will receive word of when you are to be deployed to the frontline. For now, focus on your training, listen to your superiors and prepare yourself as much as you can. It is wartime, boy.' He held out his hand and Lukas took it, shaking it once. 'Godspeed, soldier, and good luck.'

Lukas smiled gently, thanked the officer and made his way out the long, winding line of able-bodied men. He grinned inwardly as his eyes landed on his papers.

Well, that was much easier than I'd thought it would be. He headed for the exit of the registry. Excellent.

The plan was in motion. Now all he had to do was wait until training was over and then… his journey would begin.

.

Three months later

.

Looking away from the tracks—his eyes, again, locking onto a particular sight—Lukas scowled.

'This is just not fair,' he mumbled under his breath.

Lukas was standing on the platform of the local train station, waiting for the train that would take him to his post on the frontline to arrive. The three months of training, of drills and early wake-up calls, of going to bed with jellied legs and headaches that disturbed his sleep, had come to this. He was to be deployed, that very day, towards the frontlines of France. Where in France he was to be stationed, Lukas didn't know yet. So there he was, fiddling with the hems of his new uniform, waiting patiently for his train to come chugging into the station.

Yet, instead of being on the lookout for the train, his eyes had landed on another soldier nearby, having done a double take when he had seen him upon entry. He was leaning against one of the many columns of the station, rolling back the sleeve of his uniform to, no doubt, check the time. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and had what to Lukas looked like a mop of blond hair peeking out from underneath his hat. Lukas saw him puff his cheeks out and frown, jiggling his leg impatiently as he directed his gaze towards the tunnel.

If this man was just another soldier, Lukas would have moved his gaze away from him immediately. But there was something about the man that drew Lukas to him. Perhaps it was how young he looked, or the way he held himself, or perhaps even how good he looked in his uniform—

Lukas, snap out of it! Tearing his eyes away from the mysterious soldier, Lukas sighed. You'll get into trouble if you go down that path. He is a man, as are you—what are your chances? Never mind that he is handsome as hell, you'll get arrested and possibly hang.

'This is just not fair… not at all,' he mumbled under his breath again.

But that didn't stop him from glancing over to the soldier once more, just to satisfy himself. He had been doing so the moment he had seen him, and he kept telling himself, just one more look, every five minutes.

It was when he had glanced at the soldier for, perhaps, the thirtieth time, that a shrill whistle pierced the air. There was movement on the platform, the other soldiers picking up their bags and rifles as the train slowed to a stop in front of them. Lukas followed their lead, taking the bag by his feet and slinging his rifle onto his shoulder. His boots thumped as he made his way through the throng of soldiers over to a carriage—he found a mostly vacant one towards the end of the train, and hopping on, Lukas quickly turned back to drink in the empty platform. Who knew when he would be back in London? If I come back at all, that is…

Straightening his back, Lukas went in search of a compartment. He passed by a few that were already full, seeing how many soldiers were already becoming fast friends with each other. There was a range amongst them all: young, old, tall, short, stocky, lanky—it was amazing how much variety there was. Walking by, Lukas also heard, faintly, a range of accents. He picked out a few Londoners, but most of them sounded Northern or out from Liverpool and Manchester, even York—and was that someone from Northumberland that he heard? He was also sure that he had heard a Scotsman in the third compartment from where he had entered…

It took him about twenty minutes, moving forward in the narrow corridor, to find an empty compartment. Not wasting a single second, Lukas slid open the door and shut it softly behind him. The compartment wasn't the biggest he had ever been in, but it looked comfortable. The seats were a dark red, with two netted storages above them. Taking the seat nearest to the window, Lukas quickly took out his book, his notepad and a pencil before putting his bag in the net. He had to get onto his toes to do so because he was still small, being six—no, eighteen. He had a moment of confusion as to where to put his rifle, but in the end, he found a crevice in-between the window and his seat. Once Lukas got comfortable, he heard the guard's whistle blow long and loud, and he felt the pistons of the train beneath his feet begin to move.

As the platform moved away, Lukas didn't look at it at all. Instead, he opened his book—a copy of Conrad's Heart of Darkness—and drank in the words of the page. He lost himself in the vivid imagery, the tale of Marlow's journey in the Congo and on the river. He imagined himself as Marlow, on a journey into the unknown, the Congo as France, the danger imminent and mysterious… Lukas wondered if his own Kurtz would be at the end of the line, perhaps in the form of a German.

He had read the book so many times that he knew the story inside out, had memorised it. He had many favourites, including Jane Austen's and the Brontë sisters' novels, but he couldn't exactly bring a copy of Sense & Sensibility or Wuthering Heights—he would be laughed at. So Heart of Darkness was his only choice at that stage.

Lukas didn't know how long it had been since the train had left the station, but as he got a quarter of the way through his book, there was a knock on the compartment door. Glancing up, Lukas felt his heart stop when he saw a familiar face looking through the middle window of the compartment door. Opening it, the soldier Lukas had been admiring on the platform stepped in, smiling sheepishly.

'Hello—sorry to interrupt your reading,' he said, pointing to Lukas' book, 'but I was wondering if anyone else was sitting in here?'

Blinking at him once, Lukas shook his head and gestured to the seats. 'Go ahead.'

The soldier grinned, and thanked Lukas as he shut the door. He then dug through his bag and, like Lukas, took out a notepad and a pencil before chucking his bag in the overhead netting. He, unlike Lukas, had no trouble getting his bag into the storage and had no need to get onto his toes—Lukas deduced that he was probably much older than him, and therefore, had more of a reason to be taller. He, also like Lukas, was puzzled with the placing of his rifle. Scratching his head, it took him a minute to notice the gap between the seats and the window, and he followed Lukas' lead and tucked his rifle in the space opposite Lukas'. Satisfied, the soldier sat in the other corner of the compartment, near the door, on the opposite side where Lukas was sitting. He watched as the soldier took out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter from his pockets, and as he rested his now open notepad on his thigh.

But of course, Lukas wasn't watching what this handsome stranger was doing. No, he was reading. Of course he was. He went back to Marlow and the Congo.

A few minutes later, however, a series of quiet curses met his ears. Lukas, again, looked up from his book to see the soldier struggling to light his cigarette. With a cigarette between his lips, the soldier's thumb flicked against the igniter, but to no avail. Lukas fought hard to hide a smile.

'Would you like some help?'

The soldier lifted his head, his eyes round in surprise. Taking the cigarette from his mouth, he smiled embarrassedly at Lukas. 'Yes, please. Blasted thing won't work.'

Holding his hand out for the lighter, Lukas smiled softly at the soldier as he shifted down his seat to be directly opposite Lukas. Taking it from him, Lukas managed to get the flame going instantly, and he nearly laughed at the shocked look on the soldier's face.

'That's not fair,' he grumbled, moving forward to light the tip against the flame. 'I've been trying to work the damn thing all day!'

'It takes a certain skill,' Lukas told him. Once the soldier had lit his cigarette, Lukas bit his cheek to stop smiling once he started coughing, making a face. 'As does the act of smoking itself.'

The soldier sighed. 'Can't win today. But to be fair, I've never smoked before. Thought it was high time to learn, you know, since we're going to war,' he said matter-of-factly. Digging out his packet from his pocket, he handed it to Lukas. 'Want one?'

Lukas didn't usually smoke—in fact, he had only ever smoked one cigarette in his entire life. But he was determined to listen to this soldier's voice, to make contact with him in any way possible—so he grabbed one, lit it and blew out a haze of smoke expertly. He saw the soldier's expression turn impressed and Lukas shrugged offhandedly at it, for it hadn't taken him much effort to smoke in the first place. He wordlessly returned the lighter to the soldier, who put it into the breast pocket of his uniform along with the rest of the cigarettes.

'I'm Matthias, by the way,' the soldier said to him, holding out a hand. 'Matthias Køhler.'

Shaking his hand, Lukas paused, thinking deeply. He then asked, 'Er du norsk?'

Matthias froze, confused, then laughed loudly. 'No, no. I'm Danish, born in Denmark, but I've lived in England for as long as I can remember. I take it you're Norwegian?'

Lukas nodded. 'Lukas Bondevik.'

Grinning, Matthias let go of his hand and puffed at his cigarette. 'Pleasure to meet you, Mister Lukas.'

Saying something similar, Lukas took in his new companion. He was far more handsome up close, and Lukas found himself feeling very flustered as his eyes roved over Matthias' features. He had large shoulders and long legs, both of which fit very nicely in the uniform. Lukas' suspicion of Matthias having blond hair was proven correct when Matthias dumped the hat beside him, running a hand through the fair strands, an action which made Lukas shift in his seat. What Lukas had also failed to see from a distance were the strong line of his jaw, how bloody bright his eyes were—a pale blue that made Lukas have chills—and how there were thousands of freckles covering his entire face. It was cute, and Lukas found himself wondering just how many there were.

He hid behind his book, feeling his cheeks grow warm. If he stared any longer, he would die of humiliation. But Matthias clearly wasn't going to let a silence settle.

'What are you reading?'

Lukas merely showed the cover. He heard Matthias hum in interest and say, 'I've heard it's a good book, but I never got around to reading it. What is it about, exactly?'

Peering from over the top of the pages, Lukas raised a curious eyebrow. He took a puff of his cigarette and said, 'You really want to know?'

Matthias nodded, coughing again when he, too, took a drag. He tried again, succeeded and sent Lukas a victorious smile. Lukas shook his head, but he could feel the corners of his mouth begin to rise up in a smile. This man was just too contagious, a fact that alarmed Lukas a little bit. He was, after all, renowned for being a stoic, silent person, one who spoke very little and who kept to himself. Yet here was Matthias, challenging all of that in the space of twenty minutes.

Lukas didn't know what to think. All he did know was that all this was, perhaps, the start of something new.

.

The next hour passed by rather quickly. No one by that point in time had come and sat in the same compartment as Lukas and Matthias, a fact which Lukas was grateful for—he wasn't keen about sharing Matthias with anyone just yet. He had seen how friendly Matthias had been with some other soldiers at the station before they had left, and the last thing Lukas wanted was for other men to take his companion away, especially now that they had become friends. At least, that was what Lukas thought… Maybe Matthias didn't think the same way? Lukas certainly had no clue.

During that hour, Lukas, as per Matthias' request, told him about Heart of Darkness, and Matthias listened intently as Lukas described Marlow's journey in the Congo, about how Kurtz's determination for ivory had resulted in something far more sinister, how the language and the imagery in the novel was so vibrant and alive that it was impossible not to wonder what on earth was going to happen next, what the truth behind everything was. Lukas had gotten a pleasant surprise once Matthias begun asking questions, genuinely intrigued by what Lukas was telling him. Lukas had never been on the receiving end of such attentiveness, nor had he spoken as much as he did then in his life, but he was enjoying every minute—and so, it seemed, did Matthias.

Their topic shifted from Lukas' novel to Matthias' telling Lukas about his interest in poetry, and Lukas listened as Matthias told him all about the beauty of Eliot and Coleridge, of Shelley, Arnold and Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Lukas had never known someone who was so passionate about poetry, least of all a man. He was absolutely fascinated by what Matthias was telling him, even more so by the sound of his voice.

Before they knew it, Lukas and Matthias had become fast friends. Even though Matthias was by far the loudest and most talkative person he had ever met, Lukas found those pleasant qualities about him. As time passed and as the train rumbled through the English countryside, Lukas began to hope that once the war was over, he and Matthias would remain good friends—who knew, they might even become best friends!

About two hours later, Lukas found out what purpose Matthias' notepad served. He took out the pencil from behind his ear where it had been staying for the last little bit, and he looked hopeful as he asked Lukas, 'I know this is sudden but… are you okay with me drawing you? I've been stuck for inspiration lately and have been dying to draw something.'

Lukas sent him a look. 'Are you sure you want draw someone as plain as me?'

Matthias smiled softly at him. 'Lukas, you are far from plain. Please?'

At the wide-eyed and pouted look Matthias gave him, Lukas' face went red. He sighed, and agreed begrudgingly. Matthias let out a triumphant sound, and Lukas told him, 'Just don't do anything stupid, okay?'

'Now why would I do that?' Matthias rested his notepad on his knee and gazed at Lukas. 'Why would I ruin a perfectly good-looking guy?'

Lukas had no answer for him. All he did was lift his book up, determined not to show the growing blush on his cheeks. He heard Matthias chuckle, and the very sound nearly made Lukas scream in frustration.

Was God playing with him? Was all of this some horrible attempt at a joke? Matthias was the kindest and most pure soul Lukas had ever met in his petty six—eighteen—years. There was merely one other person he knew who had a similar personality to Matthias, whose friendship he cherished with every fibre of his being. They were the only, true friend of Lukas', had been for nearly four years—so for Lukas to meet Matthias, as he was, was nothing short of shocking. But as Matthias started to draw, cigarette dangling from his lips, Lukas' mouth formed into a small, grateful smile.

A silence fell upon them for the next hour and a half. They took a break at some point to sample some beef sandwiches Lukas had made for the train, since he had been unsure if food would have been served. Matthias had enlightened him by telling him, 'I'm not sure if there is food on this train, but I overheard some of the others saying something about getting food when we stop at a small station near Ashford, and then again before Folkestone. No doubt we'll need lots of nourishment before we head off to France. Who knows how long this boat ride to Calais is going to last?'

Lukas, of course, had forgotten all about the boat to Calais. He was not looking forward to it, and he scowled when Matthias laughed at his misfortune.

'Don't worry,' he had said to him, 'I'll be there to rub your back as you spew over the pristine side of the ship.'

He had gotten a crust thrown in his face for the comment and a backhanded, 'I do not spew, Køhler!'

Nothing more was said on the subject after that. In fact, neither said another word until the sky outside had darkened, and when the lamps in the compartment flickered to life. It was then that Matthias set down his pencil, putting it back behind his ear, and sighed appreciatively at his work, flipping a few pages back and forth. Lukas had just finished Heart of Darkness, and at Matthias' sigh, he gazed curiously at his companion as he shut the cover.

'You can have a look if you like,' Matthias told him, giving Lukas his notepad—or was it a sketchbook? 'I can use some critiques, so feel free to comment!'

Swallowing, Lukas brought the sketchbook towards him and, upon seeing Matthias' sketches, his eyebrows flew into his hairline.

The page was covered with Lukas' face. Each face had a different expression—some were him looking annoyed, sarcastic or bored, but the rest of them, the majority…

Had he really let himself go so much that Matthias had managed to get his smile?

He was in awe, both at himself and the utter perfection of Matthias' work. The drawings were so detailed that Lukas could make out the lines in the lips, the creases in his clothes, the perfect arch of his eyebrows… He turned the pages, gaping at the range of positions and situations Matthias had drawn him in. There was one where he was just reading, another where he was eating his sandwich, and the last one was of him staring out of the train window.

A clearing of a throat brought Lukas back to the real world, and his eyes settled on Matthias' nervous face.

'So… what do you think?' he asked, his voice soft, scared.

Lukas shook his head. 'I have no words, if I'm going to be completely honest with you. I'm speechless… these are beyond beautiful.'

Matthias' eyes lit up and a huge smile graced his lips. 'Really?'

Nodding, Lukas ran the tips of his fingers down the side of the page, careful not to smudge the sketch. He sent Matthias a look. 'I don't really look like this. You've made me into some… overly handsome fellow.'

'But you are an overly handsome fellow,' Matthias retorted. 'Why do you think I drew you?'

If it hadn't already, Lukas was absolutely certain that if Matthias continued like this, his heart would give out by the end of the night.

Determined to change the topic, away from his supposed "good looks", Lukas asked Matthias for the time. Moving his sleeve back, Matthias glanced at his watch and said, 'It's nearly eight.'

Lukas glanced out the window, taking in the faint silhouettes of a nearby wooded green. 'Still a long way to go…'

'We're probably going to get to France by the end of the week,' Matthias said wisely, following Lukas' lead and looking out the train window. 'Hopefully our acquaintance won't turn to shit by then.'

Tearing his gaze away from outside world, Lukas faced Matthias and frowned. He knew that what he had just said was false. It was odd, but in the space of the train ride thus far, Lukas had never felt so at home with another person, so at ease with the sound of someone's voice, someone's presence. He must have gone completely mad but… Lukas felt that he had known the man forever, like he had known him since before he could talk.

He was utterly crazy. Must have been something in that sandwich…

However, to his amazement, Matthias locked eyes with him and said quietly, 'I know it's sudden I said that… but you know, Luke… it's weird, but it feels like I've known you for years!'

At "Luke", Lukas nearly choked in surprise. Now that was new…

Matthias then laughed softly, ran a hand through his hair and continued with, 'We click so well, you know?'

Well… that was unexpected.

But Lukas found himself nodding and he smiled a little bit at Matthias. His mouth ran faster than his brain as he whispered, shyly, 'Hopefully we both survive this war in order to remain friends.'

As soon as the words lay in the air, Lukas' cheeks burned in embarrassment and he suddenly became very interested in his shoes. It took him a moment to calm himself before he could look Matthias in the eye again, and he was overwhelmed with gladness when he saw Matthias' mouth stretched to his ears in joy and that he was nodding hurriedly.

'Yeah, yeah, I'd love that!' he whispered, wonder embedded in his tone. 'We'll definitely still be friends!'

Lukas' heart soared.

There was a moment's pause.

'Lukas?' When Lukas hummed in query, Matthias clasped his hands together in his lap. 'Be honest… but how old are you? Really?'

Sending him a puzzled look, Lukas replied immediately with, 'I'm eighteen, no doubt the same as you.'

Matthias stared at him blankly. Lukas swallowed slowly. He knows… doesn't he? Oh god.

'Well… in that case, I am "eighteen" too,' Matthias whispered, fingers drawing quotation marks in the air, followed by a wink.

Lukas felt his world freeze. Did he… Did he hear that right?

'You're underage.'

Matthias leant back in his seat, crossed his arms and let out a long breath through his nose. 'So are you.'

'How old?'

'I asked you first, Luke.'

Hesitating, Lukas weighed his options. He could tell Matthias the truth and risk falling into a trap—or he could blatantly lie, insist that yes, he was eighteen, and lose Matthias' trust in him forever. Neither outcome was ideal. Lukas groaned inwardly. What a dilemma…

Staring intently at Matthias, Lukas decided on the truth. It was a huge risk, and it could possibly be the biggest mistake he was making… but he, strangely, trusted Matthias.

So gulping heavily, Lukas straightened his back and said, 'Sixteen. I'm sixteen.'

Matthias' brows disappeared into his hairline and his mouth fell open. 'Shit, really? God, I thought you were at least seventeen!' He laughed loudly and Lukas' confusion only deepened. 'To think I'm not the only one… This is great!'

Lukas' eyes widened. 'You're sixteen as well?' You're very tall for sixteen…

Shaking his head incredulously, Matthias chuckled softly to himself. 'What a day.' Then he grew serious and he scanned Lukas with his eyes. 'Why?'

His blood went cold. There were a few reasons why Lukas had joined the army, but his main reason was one he wasn't particularly keen to talk about. Being the heir to a family estate came with its complications, especially when Lukas had deep-rooted, traditionalised parents—their purpose in life was to have a secure position in society, a secure place in the home, a secure income, and that led to, inevitably, wanting a secure future for their son. While Lukas could understand their intentions, the way in which they had gone about the ordeal had left him feeling violated and more stressed out than anything else. Sick and tired of being treated as… he didn't know what, Lukas had falsified his birth certificate and joined the army the first chance he got. Since then, Lukas had felt nothing but relief, for if he had to take another woman through the gardens of the Bondevik Manor, playing niceties and polishing his fake smile, he knew he would have gone insane.

What he told Matthias was, albeit rather reluctantly, 'I got tired of being treated as a prize. As a thing to be won over rather than a person. It is not something I wish to discuss, but all you need to know is that marriage and inheritance were in question. You might call me running away and joining the army a cruel punishment to my parents for behaving the way they did, but to be honest with you, I had had enough, more than… It was time to put an end to it.' He sniffed and added, 'Plus I wanted to do some good for our country. When the army needs more men, they need more men. Kitchener's advertisements won me over in the end. Don't get me wrong, I'm scared but… war is war, Matthias. We all need to do our bit in some way.'

When he had finished, Lukas studied Matthias' startled expression. His mouth dried, suddenly feeling exposed, like Matthias was judging him for his horrible actions against his parents.

But then Matthias blinked, let out a low whistle and said to Lukas, 'That's… that's the most honest answer I've heard since I signed up.'

Lukas raised an eyebrow. 'Is that so?'

Matthias nodded. 'Every man I've talked to so far—young, old, privates, generals—have all said something similar. "The Germans must be punished," and "We have a duty to protect!" They're all so… faux. They're all saying the exact same thing, but in different words.' Matthias sent him a grateful smile. 'Thank you for being the first person to give me a straight answer.'

Merely shrugging, Lukas told him seriously, 'What's the point in lying? Pride? Honour? What are they in the end? No… better to be honest with someone and yourself than to pretend to be something you aren't.' Lukas looked at Matthias. 'And you? What is your reason for joining?'

The smile on Matthias' face faltered at Lukas' question, something that made him very curious. He became even more so when Matthias tore his gaze from Lukas and, instead, focused it on the moving world outside. Given the darkness of night and the flickering lamp lights in the compartment, Matthias' serious expression made him appear eerie. Shadows danced along the planes of his cheekbones and the line of his jaw, and the orange light of the lamps made the colour of his eyes stand out.

It was a full minute before Matthias spoke. 'Well, there is the same reason as you, with Kitchener and duty and all that. But I suppose my main reason… My family… They've never been the most supportive—except for my older brother, Berwald. He's in the army too, although he is actually eighteen, unlike us,' he told Lukas, and Lukas was intrigued by the distant tone to his voice. 'My parents wanted me to play a… uh, well, a particular role in the house and I wasn't pleased with it.'

Matthias shifted in his seat and he smiled sheepishly at Lukas, no doubt feeling the same exposure as Lukas had. But it only lasted a second as, after letting out a short sound, he went on to say, 'It makes me sound ungrateful, but I assure you, it wasn't—isn't I should say—the best of roles. It is derogatory… and to be fair, I've always hated how conservative my family is! They wanted me to marry last year—at fifteen, would you believe?—and I told them no. But they're persistent, so I escaped before they could plan a wedding without my permission.' He leant his head against the back of the seat, his expression blank and his eyes fixated on something far, far away. 'I just want my own life, you know?'

Lukas agreed with him and chuckled lowly. Maybe we're not so unlike as I thought… Who would have thought that Matthias had similar concerns regarding marriage as him? But there was something in the way Matthias had spoken that had thrown Lukas off course. He couldn't quite put his finger on it…

Out loud, he said, 'Families, huh? They're just a headache if you ask me.'

He found himself smiling when Matthias laughed, his good-natured smile coming back onto his face. Back where it should be, Lukas thought.

'Yes, but probably not as much of a headache as other things,' Matthias stated, grinning at Lukas. He paused for a moment, his face thoughtful before he asked, 'You got a girl at home?'

At that, Lukas didn't hesitate to grimace and shake his head immediately. 'No… To be honest, I don't have the highest opinion of women at the moment—especially rich women. They're all fake, trying to put on some kind of façade. I've had enough of them for a lifetime.'

Glancing at Matthias, Lukas was astonished to see that his smile was a little forced—why that was, Lukas didn't have the slightest idea. Much to his pleasure, it relaxed a little when Lukas went on to add, 'No, I want my girl to be a real one, not covered in jewels and dainty mannerisms, thank you very much. But how about you?' he aimed at Matthias, determined to move the topic away from himself. 'Surely a good-looking man such as yourself has a pretty lady by his side?'

Matthias' face formed into a vacant one. He sniffed and smiled wryly. 'Nah. No girl has ever liked me—and why should they?' He winked at Lukas. 'But that's another story.'

They fell into a peaceful silence then, and all through it, Lukas couldn't stop staring at Matthias. He watched as Matthias played with his fingers in his lap, and it was only then that Lukas zeroed in on his fingers and wow... He had never seen a man's hands look so nice, to be so smooth, let alone have such long fingers and be free of callouses. But that thought was quickly quashed from his mind, for all he could think about was how there was something that Matthias wasn't saying. There was an aura of secrecy surrounding this man, and before they went to sleep for the night, Lukas vowed, full of determination, that he would find out exactly what those secrets were.

To be continued...

A/N: Hello! I am not dead! Just been busy with uni, but I present you all with this. This is my story for the Hetalia Big Bang Challenge 2017 that is being held on Tumblr :) I've had so much fun with this story and I'm so proud of myself for finally completing a chaptered story! :o That being said, I will try and work hard on Friction (I haven't forgotten, I promise).

Now, to give credit where credit is due: a massive thank you to mimizuku9 (Tumblr) for all your hard work with editing/betaing this story. I appreciate everything you've done and all the lovely comments you've thrown my way. Also please check out the two artists who are drawing for this story: shikerii (Tumblr) and ultramarineicecream (Tumblr) ^ ^

Also check out hetaliabigbang on Tumblr as well to see the other stories and artworks that are going to be posted! There will be a masterpost done around the 31st, so keep an eye out!

(sorry for the lack of Tumblr URLS, ff . net won't have them in full :(((( )

I hope you all enjoy the story, and reviews are always appreciated! I'll be posting the first 20K in the next few days, and then I'll post the rest of the chapters weekly from there on out :)