Welcome! ( 'o' ) I've always wanted to write for Hetalia, so, well… here I am! Please give constructive criticism, as I am a new writer. All comments are appreciated!
This will become a multi-chapter fic, as promised. Just me drabbling (Yay poetic license!) about my favorite family in the APH world. Rating may go up depending on the content of some chapters. This one, like some others that will appear, is more geared towards a 'real-world' AU, where it's not really stressed that they're nations and human names are used. Please forgive me if it gets a bit tl;dr, but I love little cute moments and bonding time.
And in case it wasn't obvious…
Alfred/America = older brother
Matthew/Canada = younger brother
Francis/France = father (papa)
Arthur/UK/England = father (dad)
(IF THEY ARE YOUR OTP, HIT THAT GREEN BUTTON AND SHOW LOVE DAMMIT. KTHNXBAI *u*)
Disclaimer: *checks pockets* Just lint. T_T
Ages for this chapter:
Matthew: 15
Alfred: 16
Francis and Arthur: mid-thirties
I'll shut up now. .-.
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Pillow Fights and Late Nights
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Matthew Williams slumped slowly against the cool wood of his desk, breathing a sigh of relief as his tense shoulders began to decompress at the prospect of relaxation. Clearing all of the schoolwork he had completed off of the smooth oak, he wearily placed all his books on the floor next to his bed and slowly crawled in, too exhausted to remove his glasses. Though the clock by his bedside indicated it was only 9:30, the small Canadian felt as if it were 2 A.M. already.
Ah, the pillows felt so soft, the blankets ever so warm… Matthew dimly felt himself drifting off as he snuggled even deeper into his mattress, clutching his white duvet and equally white pet bear to his chest. He would get a wonderful night's rest tonight, right?
Wrong.
As the small blonde's eyes were just fluttering shut, and he had had his last thought of the night, a sound not unlike a small bomb blasted from the living room, followed by several yells and curses.
Screaming loudly and tumbling rather gracelessly out of his bed, Matthew clutched his polar bear (who he had dubbed Kumajiro) to his stomach, trembling in fright. Wondering what in the world had happened, he decided to bravely venture downstairs, grabbing a flashlight as he went.
With trepidation, the boy inched his way to the living room, more than hesitant about going at all and seriously considering just running out the back door. He eventually reached the end of the stairs, and cautiously peeked around the bend.
However, all Matthew saw was his brother Alfred, sitting on the couch as if he hadn't even heard the blast. The older of the two was popping a rather large bubble of grape gum and holding a videogame controller in his hands, rather absorbed in whatever it was he was playing. Matthew, confused beyond words, stepped fully into the doorway and addressed his twin.
"Al, didn't you hear that?" "Hm?" The rather eloquent response on Alfred's part, punctuated halfway by the snapping of said gum. The smaller brother, rolling his eyes at the action, said softly, "That noise, Al. It s-scared me…"
Pausing the console, Alfred set down the controller and said, "That was me, sorry for the scare, bro." He smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck, motioning with the other hand for Matthew to sit on the sofa with him.
The other did just that, the soft blue cushion giving away underneath him. Kumajiro wiggled out of his arms and sniffed Alfred with interest, playfully nipping the blonde on his rather well-defined arm. He laughed.
Matthew said, "Hey, none of that, Kuma…" He scooped up the protesting bear, ruffling the soft fur between his fingers. A comfortable silence passed between the pair before Alfred said, "Modern Warfare 2."
"Eh?" Alfred chuckled a bit at Matthew's confused face, finding it precious. "That's the game I was playing, dork." The Canadian pouted even more at that last word, flicking his twin on the head. "OW!"
Alfred winced at the sudden assault, crying out a bit and rubbing a now-bright red spot on his head. Cracking one eye open to see his younger brother giggling in amusement, he mumbled, "Oh, you are so dead, dude."
And with that, he grabbed a large accent pillow and hit Matthew square in the face with it.
A resonant whack echoed through the room as feathers filled the air and the Canadian just sat there, stunned. There was yet another silence, this one significantly more deadly, before Matthew coughed. He sputtered out, "I-I think I swallowed a feather."
Alfred laughed, not realizing his mistake. As his eyes were closed in mirth, Matthew gave an evil grin and grabbed the pillow, choosing instead to hit the taller boy soundly on the back of the head.
The two then grappled violently over the soft object, Matthew finally forgetting his exhaustion in favor of adrenaline. Eventually relenting (because damn, Matthew's nails were sharp), Alfred ran up the stairs, his brother screaming, "Coward!" and trailing shortly behind.
The older twin raced into his room, barely having time to grab a pillow from his bed as Matthew swung the blue one dangerously close to his face. As soon as he held the green plushie of Gir in his grasp, he felt empowered already. Smiling wickedly, he dove into the fight.
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Downstairs, Arthur Kirkland was humming a tune to himself and adding chili powder to a rather virulent-looking mixture bubbling on a burner. "Bringing in a new sound… Please make it in, oh please make it in… All I have been missing…" He trailed off at the loud shrieks and giggles coming from above, accompanied by several whacks and thuds.
He just sighed and continued to stir. The sludge gurgled.
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Francis Bonnefoy wondered idly who would top.
--
At 10:30, the fight was still escalating, and the brothers had taken it outside (quite literally). They were now rolling around on the manicured lawn of their backyard, both rather dirt and grass-stained.
Matthew cried out as his back hit a sprinkler head roughly. Alfred paused, glancing at his brother in concern. Hesitating slightly, the older of the two inquired, "Matt? You okay?" When said Canadian whimpered in response and curled inwardly, Alfred worriedly set his pillow down and kneeled over him.
Only to receive a pillow to the nose.
"You little brat!" Matthew screeched and laughed, desperately trying to pry away the fingers curled around his wrist. "Hey! I'm injured!" Alfred looked confused, then skeptical. "Are you?"
The small blonde stuck out his tongue, scrunching up his nose cutely. "Maybe…~" Alfred groaned. "Mean little turd… I'm telling Papa!" "Telling him what, that you gave me a bruise when you punched me in the back?" "BITCH."
They sobered soon after, Alfred helping his brother to his feet, as his back was (actually) rather sore. Matthew blushed at the attention as Alfred asked, "Your back alright? I'll get you ice, let me know if it swells or changes color, o-okay?" The Canadian giggled and just hugged his brother, Gir pillow and all.
"Thank you. That was… an experience." Alfred struck a hero pose, grinning at the expression of gratitude. "But of course, a hero always makes a day more awesome!" Matthew just nodded, feeling fatigue creep up on him again.
The other blonde sensed his exhaustion and used his football-season strength to his advantage, scooping Matthew up into his arms as effortlessly as he had the pillow. The Canadian tensed at this, but relaxed again when Alfred whispered, "I've got you. Sleep."
And he did, head lolling back as blonde waves fanned out on his savior's arm. Alfred smiled softly as Matthew snored quietly, creeping subtly back into the house and shutting the door with a click. He slid off his Converse in favor of a quieter journey in his socks.
Arthur turned when he heard light footsteps heading toward the stairs. "Alfred, have you seen my…" He cut himself off when Alfred put a finger to his lips, the hand only making it about halfway due to Matthew sleeping in his arms. Giving a knowing smile, he whispered, "Don't let him catch a cold."
Francis, seeing the twins as well, padded over to Alfred's side and gave them both light pecks on the forehead, Alfred rolling his eyes at the gesture. "Goodnight papa, dad."
Nodding to the two respectively, he headed up the wooden stairs slowly, careful to not slip on the varnished surface. Alfred made it successfully to Matthew's room and set the other down on the bed lightly, pulling a blanket over him. He walked slowly towards the open door, but paused as he reached the threshold. Turning around, he whispered to the sleeping boy, "Je taime, frère." He took his leave.
Matthew cracked a little smile.
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I should have put a cavity warning… Ah wells. Like it? Hate it? Want incest? I WON'T KNOW UNLESS YOU REVIEW. And as just a reminder, all the stories/drabbles will be unconnected, so don't expect the same universe next chapter (which might even be up tonight!). COMMENT IF THE LINE IN FRANCIS' POV JUST FLOORED YOU. FRSRS.
If anyone can guess what song Arthur was sing-humming while working on the meal of doom, review! If you're right, you get a character/pairing oneshot of your choosing!~
Sorry about the uber-long intro note, but it had to be said…
And all story-watchers get Matthew plushies! 'Kay, not really. And definitely not my Plithuania! -hugs actual plush Liet doll her beautiful friend got her for her birthday *u*-
DO IT NOW.
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