A/N: Don't own Hetalia, Don't sue me, yada yada yada.
So, I decided to finally post a fanfic for APH (I read enough of them) with an incredibly rare pairing. Why this pairing you ask? I thought it would work with this AU... and it's cute :3 )
But anyways, fair warning, don't expect any smut for awhile, I plan to take things slowly with this partly because I am seek with the simple meet and smex yaoi verse where everyone is gay and woman do not exist.
So in short: The relationship's main issue will be them dealing with society's perception (and their own) on their recently discovered sexuality. So don't expect, Ohhhh five seconds after they meet they smex it up... because if you do, i WILL find you and beat you over the head with a fish... and smelly fish.
(Oh, and please, feel free to point out any plot or grammatical errors, thank you~)
The sounds of distant gunshots could be heard ripping through the night, the walls of the small tenement doing nothing to shield their inhabitants ears from their dreadful nose.
'So this is the land of milk and honey, huh...' Alfred gave a long drawn sigh, another restless night it seemed. He looked over to the still form of his brother, giving a nod to the man's ability to sleep through anything.
Heaving himself off the bed, Alfred walked over to the small window overlooking row upon row of low income housing, the worn brick towers casting eerie shadows in the moonlight.
He ran his hand through his golden locks, "Five years," he mumbled, "Five stinkin' years of this shit, and what do me an' Mattie have to show for it?" He stared towards the night, seeking answers in its silence.
"Al-Alfred, you awake?" questioned a voice laced in the comfort of sleep, Matthew shifted in his bed, facing his brother with concern.
Alfred shook his head, "Nah, go back to bed Mattie. Ya got work early tomorrow."
"If there is something that's keeping you up, shouldn't you talk about it? I mean-"
"No, nothin's wrong. Like I said before, get yerself back to bed mister." His tone held a note of finality, a gentle tell to his brother to drop the subject.
Matthew gave a small sigh, seeking once again refuge beneath his covers. "I know this isn't what we wanted, I know it's been a trip to hell and back, but... but it'll get better, just you wait," he said in a soft voice. "I know the city hasn't been too nice, but we can manage. We always do."
"Y-yeah, the land o' opportunity Mattie. Just you an' me against this goddamn world," something in Alfred's voice cracked.
A small nod could be seen under the covers. "Sleep tight Alfred. Goodnight."
"An' don't let no bedbugs bite." Walking slowly back to his bed, Alfred slipped once again beneath his covers, their heat too much, their coils too constricting. "G'night Mattie.
"Another sleepless night," Alfred mumbled, trotting along the garbage ladened sidewalk. "Always gotta happen on my nights off too..." Noticing the coffee shop drawing near, he slowed his already slow pace.
Upon hearing the jingle of the bell, a small Italian man turned, face beaming. "Ahhh~ Alfred! Stai Bene? How are you today?"
Giving a small shrug, Alfred took his usual seat by the window. "Been better Feliciano, been better."
"No no no, Cosa c'รจ di sbagliato? All is not well? Tell me, maybe you need to talk? Oh, I know A cup of our finest coffee, yes yes, that will do nicely!"
Giving a small laugh, Alfred watched his friend ramble on, muttering and cooing phrases in Italian and broken English.
"Nah, just the usual Feliciano. All I need is a good ol' kick of caffeine an' I'll be right back on the saddle."
"But Alfreeed!" He whined, "Why must you insist on such, such... spaventoso, such horrible coffee?"
"Because, it's cheap. And hell, I need a jumpstart today." Giving a strained grin, Alfred rested his head in his palms.
"And again, why must you insist on the payment!" Feliciano was poised to further their small 'argument,' untill he noticed customers waiting for orders. "Fiiine~ But it is on the house again." In an ucharacteristic huff, he went to collect and prepare his orders for the day.
Alfred gave a small grin, and turned his attention to the window. "Sad, huh..." He gave a quiet laugh, if he was sad, then what did that make the rest of the world.
He settled into the coffee shops warmth, enjoying the thick scent of rich brews and mouth-watering biscotties. To think this place went unoticed by him for so many years, shoved in the back corners of some dingy alley it rarely saw any business. So the first time when he actually walked into the small establishment, he was immediately bombarded by the cheerful Italian man.
Alfred gave another warm grin, remembering the first time he pulled Matthew to this place, receiving yet another boisterous welcome. It was only then, with the three of them alone in the shop, did Feliciano reveal the trouble he was in. Emigrating from Northern Italy, the man told him the plight of his business, how if he did not attract more customers, he would face an insurmountable amount of debt. And Alfred, being the self proclaimed hero at the time, offered to aid him (much to his brother's chagrin).
'The planning was the fun part,' Alfred thought. The execution itself was less so, not too difficult, but time consuming none the less. 'Who woulda' thought that a little ol' Jazz night would be so much work?' Pulling together connections for entertainment had been easy, since Alfred did play trumpet for a small jazz group hired by the dance club "Nocturnal." The advertisement was a piece of cake, a few handouts to a 'frolicking' men and woman was all it took. No, the real issue was ensuring those patrons became long time clients, spreading the word.
But it did work, obviously, and Feliciano Vargas became a trusted friend of the twins. And, in a world where everyone was willing to stab you back for no reason at all, this made the bond even greater.
Alfred glanced at his watch and let out a small sigh, even though his shift didn't start until late in the evening, there were errands to run. And he would be damned if Matthew was forced to fit in shopping during his long and strenuous days at Ford's factory. 'Always looks so tired, Mattie's gotta put his feet up once in awhile-'
"Ve~ Here you are Alfred!" Chirped the Italian man. "One cup of American Roast, dark, with one spoon of sugar!"
"Sheesh ya' know me to well," Alfred said, rubbing the back of his head. Taking the steaming cup of coffee, the blond rose an eyebrow when Feliciano sat next to him. "Don't ya' got customers waiting Feliciano?" Shaking his head the small Italian began to nervously wring a small dishcloth in his hands. Alfred's brows furrowed, "What's wrong?"
"Ah, well, you see..." He trailed off, kneading the cloth with greater zeal.
"Come on, no fair I get ta' bitch while ya go on looking like a nervous wreck." He eyes and voice softened, "Ya can tell me, is it that German guy... Ludwig right? Been bothering ya'?" Though the man was another close acquaintance of Feliciano, he was also in charge of the rent, which meant a slew of possible 'situations.'
"No! Of course not, no... It's... It's my brother Alfred..."
"Oh..." Alfred, for once, was for a loss of words. Feliciano's older brother, Lovino Vargas, emigrated from the southern part of Italy only a year after his brother, but instead of taking the honest route he decided to associate himself with some... less than reputable characters. So, the older brother has been a taboo of sorts, he was a known entity, but speaking about his deeds was out of the question.
"Spiacente, I know it is uncomfortable to bring up such a thing, but I am worried about him." Feliciano looked up at Alfred, his eyes pleading him to listen. "The imbecille, with this prohibition thing the government has put into effect, he has been doing horrible deals with the mafia!" The Italian looked on the verge of tears at this moment. "I tell him not to do this, to quit, but he does not listen! But now I am more worried than ever. My brother's little gang has made bad blood with the group run by a man named Lester Gillis, and he has nowhere to go! I cannot offer him a home, the small room above the shop barely houses me!" Tears were now freely flowing down his face. "Si prega di, please, if it is not too much of a burden could you shelter Lovino, if only for awhile. He is not safe on the streets, and I promise I will take care of all his expenses." Feliciano was now actively begging, hands clasped together in a hopeful prayer.
Alfred gave a small sigh (damn him for being so righteous) and accepted. "Y-yeah, alright. I'm sure Mattie won't mind, I'll take in yer brother fer ya'."
"Grazie, oh Alfred, thank you, thank you!" He clapped his hands together with relief, and began dabbing his teary face with the crumpled dishcloth, "I promise you he will be no trouble! Oh I cannot express my gratitude!
"N-no problem Feliciano, just... I'm not openin' any doors ta' hell here am I? I mean, it sounds like the guys got a pretty bad rep."
"No no no, I promise no harm will fall on any of you. I would not have asked if that was the case!"
"O-okay..."