Sorry for the re-submit. I realized that FF doesn't allow the little squiggly thingy... so I used oOo instead between scenes.
Yay~ my first Hetalia fic! I love to pair up the North America brothers. They're so cute together!
Disclaimer: I have no ownership over any characters used or mentioned in this story. I am a FAN on FANfiction.
Alfred sauntered through the busy airport. "Yeah, dad. I'll be on the next flight," he spoke to his father on his cell phone. Alfred was a very well off man, thanks to his father's money. Of course he wasn't extremely wealthy, but he does have enough money to fly from his friend Kiku's house in Japan then straight to his father in England first class without visiting his home in America.
"Uh-huh, my flight was delayed." He continued through the air port, this time at a faster pace. "It's okay, I'll call you later." Alfred started walking at his fastest. The plane wasn't delayed; he needed an excuse for why his cell phone wasn't off when Arthur, his father, tried to reach him. Alfred rolled his eyes. Leave it to Arthur to be far past over protective. He even called him to check if his phone was off.
Now at a near running pace; he was close to his gate. Alfred really wanted to go back to America; he didn't know why Arthur wanted him home all of a sudden. Sometimes he wondered why he called Arthur 'dad'. They weren't even related. Alfred was adopted as the son of a single parent. Since he was an only parent his brother was left behind. Adopted at seven years old, his one year old brother stayed behind.
"Big brother, don't go!"
"I don't want to leave you"
"But I'll miss you"
"I'll never forget you, I promise!"
"I promise too!"
Somewhere along the years, the promise was broken. His heart felt pierced when he failed to recall his name. He didn't hate his dad for leaving his brother either, it's not easy for a single parent adopt two children at the same time.
Alfred blinked rapidly to prevent tears from falling. What was he thinking about his brother for? That's the past, twelve years ago. He will never see his brother again.
oOo
Matthew grinned guiltily at the security girl checking bags. "Sir, is your bag moving?"
"Heh, no ma'am… It's my uhh…"
The words took to long to get out; the security woman was already unzipping his bag. Matthew viewed this as a privacy violation.
His heart nearly stopped beating when the bag was unzipped. The woman held Kumajirou in plain view. "This is a polar bear…" The woman said to Matthew plainly. She looked back at Kumajirou, he face now pale. "A polar bear… THIS IS A POLAR BEAR!" She screamed in terror. "Are you trying to kill us!"
"No, no, no! He's house trained! It won't bite!"
"Polar bears ARE bears!" She yelled in a blood gargling voice.
"So are pandas!"
The woman tossed Kumajirou back at Matthew. She inhaled deeply to prevent from fainting from horror. "Get. Out. Of. Here"
"Yes ma'am!" Matthew took his suit case and ran to prevent any more heart attacks from people seeing a bear. While running he pulled his phone to call his father. "Papa, I won't be able to visit you today." Matthew held back tears as he said this.
Sent away at a boarding school four years ago he hasn't seen his father since. His father Francis was a professional musician and lead singer of a French band. It's been hard to find times when both of them weren't busy. Francis was always doing holiday concerts. It's about time he took a break from his career to see his son again.
Polar bears would sometimes walk around the forest in Canada. Matthew saw three bears in the woods once. The two older bears were killed. He took upon the duty of taking care of the baby. It never grew quite to size, which made it easy for Matthew to hide it in his dorm. He wouldn't dare abandon the poor bear.
"It's not that papa, I have just a small prob-" Before Matthew could finish his sentence he found himself on the ground. Looking up he saw a dazed man, probably in his early twenties or late teens.
Matthew stood up abruptly and began to apologize. "I'm so sorry! I didn't see you! I'm sorry! I really am!"
Still on the ground, the older boy looked at Kumajirou. "Is this your bear?"
He was somewhat confused at this point. The man didn't even look terrified. "It's um… my…"
"Heh, don't be embarrassed, I still have stuffed animals too." The man gave him a warm smile then stuck out his hand. "I'm Alfred F. Jones."
"It's not… that's a…" He sighed and gave up. "Hello Mr. Jones, I am Matthew Williams." He hesitated a little then accepted the handshake.
Alfred stood and dusted himself off." Nice meeting you Matthew." He bent over and took his stuff. After he had walked away a bit, he stopped and turned back around toward Matthew, still frozen in his spot. "Have we met before?" he looked the boy over up and down then scratched his head. "Heh, never mind." He waved his hand dismissing the subject. "I hope we meet again. Goodbye Matthew."
"Goodbye Mr. Jones." Matthew struggled to get the words out. He had the same feeling. Maybe they have met before. It seemed unlikely though, that he would recognize a passer-by. Perhaps they have had a conversation at a bus stop? Still… something doesn't feel quite right about meeting Alfred.
oOo
Matthew hulled this heavy luggage into his dorm, dodging the questions of his friends asking why he wasn't in France. He flopped face first unto the bed and pulled Kumajirou to his face, unwillingly tears rolled unto his face. Ever since he met Alfred memories of his childhood continued to roam his mind.
His father Francis always told him that his mother died while giving birth. But something didn't make sense, why didn't they ever visit his mother's grave? Why aren't there any pictures of her? In the past Matthew thought it was because he didn't want to be reminded of the bad memories. Now he realized that there must be good memories too. The biggest question of all is why encountering Alfred made him think of this.
Kumajirou looked at his master confused. He felt worried and licked the tears off Matthew's cheeks. Matthew looked back at the bear. He liked to pretend the bear understood everything; he has always been there for Matthew. Matthew chuckled to himself. My best friend is a bear, how pathetic.
So stupid of him to think that the absence of his mother and the encounter with Alfred were related, so stupid. But why can he shake the feeling?
Still holding Kumajirou close to his face, Matthew was drifting into sleep. His eyes snapped open when he heard music coming from his back pocket. Looking at his phone, he was confused. That wasn't his ringtone. He looked at the screen. It read 'Dad'. Reality hit him. When he ran into Alfred, their phones must have gotten mixed up. He unmistakably remembered he set his father's name to 'Papa'. Shaking with fear, Matthew answered Alfred's phone. "Hello…?"
"Why isn't your phone off!" Matthew winced, the voice on the other end was extremely angry.
"I'm sorry, you have a wrong number," he said smoothly.
"Wrong number! Alfred! I pulled this right out of my contacts! Think again if you believe you can change your voice and say 'I'm sorry, you have a wrong number' and fool me! You're such an idiot!"
Matthew was afraid to even reply. It's not like this man would come out of the phone and kill him, but his words and tone were truly degrading. "Sir, please listen." Matthew was trying to stay calm but fear made his voice quiver. "I'm not Alfred, my name is Matthew Williams. I ran into Mr. Jones at the air port and we accidentally grabbed each other's phones." He made an effort to get the words out. When there was no reply from the other end he got worried. "I'm sorry, please don't be mad at Mr. Jones, I ran into him. It's my fault."
"It's an accident, don't be sorry. Can you give me your number so I can contact my son?"
oOo
The flight attendant pulled down the microphone. "We have reached our destination," Alfred recovered from his daze. "I welcome you all to the United Kingdom. I hope you enjoyed your flight and have a nice day~!"
Alfred stood; his legs were cramped from being in a sitting position so long. As Alfred stood at the bag claiming center, his body tensed. His father would be here any second, possibly to ruin his day.
Even as a child, Arthur was always harsh. He spoke the truth not caring about hurting anyone in the process. He would never intentionally hurt Alfred; that was just part of his personality. Alfred would get degraded ever day by either being called a 'bloody fool' or a 'stupid imbecile'. Alfred thought the last one was a double negative, so really he was being called smart. Arthur never knew that, if he did he would find another way to insult his son.
He exhaled, Arthur wasn't even here yet. He turned on his phone and looked at the missed calls. None were from his father. Alfred wasn't concerned about that. He was confused when he saw many missed calls from an unknown number labeled 'Papa'. Crap! Alfred thought to himself, I picked up Matthew's phone.
Alfred was about to call Matthew's father, he paused when he saw Arthur approach him. Alfred plastered on his best fake smile. He didn't want his father to have the impression that he wasn't happy to see him.
Arthur ignored the smile and continued walking to his son. He placed a hand on Alfred's shoulder, "Your clothes are dreadful! Either you can't shop or clothes are just plain terrible in America."
"I miss you too daddy." Alfred said sarcastically. He wasn't really annoyed by Arthur's comment, but he felt surprised by the hand on his shoulder. Arthur normally never shows his affection. Maybe he has something on his mind?
No words were exchanged between the two until they were seated in Arthur's car. "So I heard that you to someone else's phone rather than yours at an airport." Alfred didn't respond; he waited for the insult. When the older man didn't say anything Alfred looked up at him. "Did he tell you anything?"
"He told me his name is Matthew Williams."
"Of course I know that you bloody imbecile! What else did he tell you?"
"He didn't tell me anything, dad. Why do you ask?"
Arthur's face instantly turned bright red and his knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel so tightly. "No reason," he quickly dismissed the subject. "I want you to fly to France to pick up the phone as soon as you're ready."
Alfred groaned he felt like he was in the air more often than the ground lately.
oOo
It's been a while since Alfred knocked on the door of someone's he didn't know. After spending one week on solid ground, he was sent straight back into the air to France. Alfred still didn't understand why he couldn't just mail the phone.
The man who opened to door smiled kindly at Alfred, "Hello. This is Francis. And you are?"
Slightly annoyed that Arthur didn't tell Francis he was coming over Alfred politely answered the question. "I'm Alfred F. Jones, is Matthew here?"
"Ah, you are one of Matthew's friends?" Francis opened the door wider and led Alfred to a sitting room. "Matthew isn't here yet. Would you mind waiting?" he reached behind the chair he was sitting on and pulled out his guitar.
The house was very beautiful. Almost every single table had a candle. The whole house smelled of cinnamons and apple. The walls were colored a burgundy color, some accent walls were a dark, complementary green. Dark hard-wood flooring gave the room a beautiful warming effect.
"It's ok, I don't mind."
Francis closed his eyes and played a soft tune which seemed almost as an accompaniment to the feel of the room. He opened his eyes remembering the guest. "So, erm… Alfred. You are one of Matthew's school friends, non?"
"Actually I've only met him once, at the airport."
Confused by Alfred's reply, Francis paused the melody. "Really, only once? Why do you travel so far for just a passer-by?" he continued playing after asking his question.
"You know, I'm not exactly sure. But when I met him I…" He stopped, why tell Francis that he had an odd feeling like him and Matthew used to be friends? He wouldn't understand anyway. "My father wanted me in France for some reason. Matthew's such a nice person I wouldn't mind meeting again. You're the one who raised him anyway." Alfred smiled to himself. What a perfect little excuse, it wasn't entirely false either.
"You are such a sweet child, Alfred. I must know, what is your father's name?"
"My dad? Oh, um… his name is Arthur, why?"
When the word 'Arthur' left his lips Francis pulled a bad note.
"Do you know him?"
"Non!" Francis's answer was rushed, "I don't remember meeting an Arthur in a long time! Since grade school!"
"Okay, okay! I believe you!" Alfred did believe him, until he saw Francis blush. Alfred drew a few conclusions on his own.
As if on cue, Alfred heard keys jingle in the distance. A few seconds later the front door opened. Alfred jumped to his feet and rushed to the front door. "Mattie!" he exclaimed throwing his arms around the younger blonde. After a second of hugging he jumped back. Alfred must have confused and scared Matthew. He looked into his eyes. Blank? Confused? Maybe hurt?
"M-Mr. J-Jones?" Matthew struggled severely in order to get the words out. "W-what are you doing h-here?"
"I… uh…?" Alfred himself was awed that he was also at a loss of words.
"He is your friend Mathew, Alfred has come to visit you." Francis smiled kindly as he approached the scene.
"Papa?"
"I'm sorry," Alfred interrupted, "I'm intruding on a family moment. I'll head back to my hotel room." Alfred opened the door half-way then paused. "May I visit tomorrow?"
"Certainly," Francis replied. "Do you need a ride back?"
"Naw, I can walk from here. It's not to far. Thanks anyway."
oOo
"So you were adopted?" Matthew asked as he and Alfred roamed down the streets of Paris.
"Yeah, my dad was never afraid to tell me how he should have left me at the orphanage." Though Alfred kept his voice firm, pinches of hurt could be picked up. He then led Matthew into an outdoor café. "My treat?" he turned around and showed his friend one of his signature smiles.
"Um, yeah… sure." They took a seat by road and waited for their orders to arrive. "So uh… Mr. Jones, I was wonder-"
"You can call me Alfred," he paused for a second, "Or Al, or Fred." Another pause, this time he placed a hand on his chin. "Actually don't call me Fred."
"Okay… Alfred. I was kind of curious… did your mother give you up at birth or…" Matthew was interrupted by the waitress delivering his order. Alfred paid the lady with a smile on his face. Not the same one he gave Matthew.
"No, that's not it as all." He tried to keep the smile on his face, but failed. It soon was replaced by a frown of despair. "I kinda still remember what happened the day that they died."
"They… Oh no Alfred! I'm so sorry." Tears were forming in Matthew's eyes, but he didn't want to cry before Alfred. He battered the tears away while wondering how someone else's past made him cry. "What happened to them, if you don't mind me asking?"
"They died in a fire; I was too young to remember what started it."
No longer feeling teary eyed, Matthew opened his eyes wide. "And you… were the only survivor?"
Alfred clenched his fists and chuckled, a tear fell from his shaded eyes. "No, I wasn't…" he smiled wider when he heard the younger boy gasp. "I had… a younger brother. Just an infant. He didn't understand…" Alfred sighed and took a sip of his abandoned drink before continuing. "One year later I was adopted. I… I promised him that I'd protect him forever! Never forget him! And I told him we'd meet again… someday…"
"Al," Matthew bit his bottom lip. "Do you remember his name?"
He looked down and his eyes were shadowed again.
"I- I understand…" Matthew leaned forward and sipped his drink. "Um… Would you like to stay with Papa and I? I don't want you to keep spending money at a hotel, mostly because I'm the one keeping you here."
"Oh, you dad won't mind?"
"Not at all, Papa is very generous when it comes to things like this."
"Thank-you very much!"
oOo
Alfred fell backwards unto the guest room bed. He reached over and grabbed his vibrating phone. "Hey dad," Alfred then pulled the phone away from his ear knowing what was about to happen.
"You ignorant boy!" though the phone was far, but the words could be heard extremely loudly, and clearly. "I told you to keep me posted! I should have known that a boy of your intelligence level-" Alfred blocked the rest out. He felt like hanging up then and there, but why aggravate him even more? A few insults later Alfred heard nothing on the other end, other than angry panting. "Son…"
"Yeah Dad?"
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone off on you like that. Forgiv-"
This time Alfred did hang up, his father could be so pathetic sometimes. They lived together for so many years, just father and son. Arthur never did anything fun with him. He was the only child on the block without a tree house. Arthur was so worked up on building 'proper etiquette' that they barely connected. It wasn't the first time Arthur said sorry about it but those times were rare. Even though, Alfred was sick of it.
On the other side of the door Alfred could hear slow light taps, sounding like they didn't start too far away. Quickly, Alfred jumped off the bed to the door. When he opened it, Matthew stood there with his face flushed red; Kumajirou was lying lazily on his ankle. "Is that a…" Alfred stood confused pointing at the now half asleep polar bear.
"Please don't scream!" Matthew warned. "He's very friendly! Poor Kumajirou can't catch a fly, let alone his own dinner!"
"Why would I be scared? He's adorable." Alfred smiled at the bear who just stared at him. Then Kumajirou turned around showing Alfred his back. Alfred just blinked. Some friendly bear.
Remembering the other boy, Alfred frowned. "What were you doing outside the door, Matthew?"
He didn't know why but the younger boy felt hurt when Alfred referred to him as 'Matthew' rather than the usual 'Mattie'. "I was just passing by, Mr. Jones." He added an innocent smile; still, it wasn't enough to convince Mr. Jones.
Alfred turned walking back into the guest room. Matthew unconsciously followed. "I—but, Mr. Jones?"
When no response was received he began to worry about Alfred. Out of nowhere, Alfred swung his fist out knocking a flowerpot and unto the floor. "I hate my father!" His veins were visible and his blood boiled with rage.
Still unable to see his friend's face Matthew thought of what ever he could do to fix the current situation. He reached his hand out attempting to touch Alfred shoulder, but fear brought it back. What if Alfred swiped at him? "Well," He managed to get a word out. "I hate him too!" Kumajirou rolled and growled on the floor in agreement.
Alfred turned around. His face was still red with anger. "But you don't know him!" he gritted his teeth.
"Well, no… But I know you and if anyone can make you upset, they are a bad person!"
His rage fit ended and he calmed down still breathing heavy. Alfred looked down and frowned. "No one ever thought about me like that." Tears flowed down his shaded eyes. "I was always thought of as a bad kid because my father yelled at me so much." He sat back and landed on the bed behind him. "No one ever took my side! You—you're a great friend Mattie."
"It's just that, I couldn't stand seeing you like that. You're my friend too." Matthew felt his eyes tearing up. "And… I- I love you like a brother! I never had any friends like you!" he leaned forward into Alfred and landed in a hugging position. "I've only known you for a couple hours, but it feels like I've known you my whole life."
He smiled softly and patted Matthew's back. "I love you too Mattie." After a while he laid down on the bed with Matthew next to him. Alfred ran his fingers through Matthew's' hair. So strange. Matthew's hair looked and felt just like his. "Hey, Mattie," Alfred approached the question with caution, afraid how his friend would react. "Did you ever have a feeling that you could be adopted?"
That never occurred to him. All the time that he's been questioning his past, why hasn't he ever thought of that? "Now that I think about it, it makes sense." He sat up looking at the confused other. Matthew giggled a bit at Alfred expression. Then he took his index finger and placed it on the older blonde's nose. "Look how alike we are. Our noses look the same." He moved his finger to inches under Alfred's eye and pulled his own face closer. "Our eye colors are the same shade of blue." His smile faded as he drifted his hand over Alfred's heart. "And we feel the same, like we've…"
"Met before," Alfred finished. He moved Matthew's hand off his chest and unto the bed, still with his hand on top. "Mattie… do you really think…" he never did finish that sentence, he hadn't needed to. Alfred lunged forward, stopping just mere millimeters from Matthew's face. When Matthew didn't try to reject him, Alfred closed the gap between himself and his brother's lips.
oOo
"Papa?" Matthew stood at the entrance to their kitchen. Matthew always had a close relationship with his dad. He never kept a secret from Francis, though he knew what Francis had been hiding from him all his life.
"Le bon matin à vous aussi Mathieu," Francis replied arrogantly, but still smiling and calm. He pulled the coffee pot from the machine. "Did you sleep well my child?"
"You aren't my father, are you Papa?"
Francis' eyes snapped wide open, and the coffee pot shattered on the floor. Francis shut his eyes and calmed himself before replying to Matthew. "Oh, dear. What would make you think that son?"
"Because Alfred's father-"
"Mathieu, Alfred doesn't know very much about your past. You just met the boy." He added a convincing smile to the last sentence.
He really wanted to believe his father, but he knew everything he said was a lie. "You never answered my question, are you my father?"
"Don't use that tone with me boy!" Francis stomped over to his son, prepared to hit him if needed.
Matthew was about to cry and give in, he felt like apologizing to his father and act like he was never adopted, Francis was his real dad, and his mom died while giving birth. Giving up like that will only prove how weak he is. "Why don't we ever visit Mother's grave, Papa?"
"I've already told you, child! Don't talk to me like that!" Francis bended forwards a bit to Matthew's height and held his wrists. "The reason we never visit your mother is because it would hurt me to see you cry."
"Stop lying already!" Matthew was so loud Francis leaped back.
"Sweetie, stop yelling s'il vous plaît…"
"No you stop acting so oblivious to the fact that I was adopted!" Matthew calmed down after seeing Francis' hurt expression. "Please, just… Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because, I was scared how you would react. I thought you might hate me."
"Hate you? Papa, you are an idol to me. You saved me from an orphanage! I can only hate you for not telling me," Matthew couldn't help letting out a tear; He had to believe every thing he said to his father. He didn't want to either. Unfortunately, everything was true. Francis was crying too.
"Do you?"
Matthew kicked his 'do I what?' reflex. "How can I hate my own father?"
A sad smile appeared on Francis' face. "I'm sorry, I should have told you such a long time ago. My fears of how you would react scared me."
"It would have been easier to handle if I knew when I was younger."
The two sat at their kitchen table chatting about their plans for the day. Kumajirou finished eating, and rested on Matthew's ankle.
"Mathieu, where is your guest? Alfred I think…"
His son jumped out of his seat a little too quickly, almost knocking over the seat. "I'll go get him!" Francis watched his son leave with the bear not far behind, still confused.
Matthew raced down the hallway to the guest room. He calmed down to open the door and walked to the bed. He gently shook Alfred, who was still sleeping like a rock. Matthew was worried when Alfred didn't respond. He glanced over at the clock 10:30am and Alfred still wasn't up? Matthew pulled the covers off hoping the light would wake him up. All Alfred did was grumble and pull the pillow over his head. Matthew sighed to himself, 'Americans, never up till the crack of noon.'
He lunged forward a bit, touching his lips to Alfred's ear. "Come on, wakey-wakey~". A groan was all he received in response. Matthew was about fed up with Alfred. He pulled the covers off Alfred as quick as he could, sending the other unto the floor.
"Ow…" Alfred rubbed his sore head, "Why'd you do that Mattie?"
Matthew looked away with his face flushed red; Alfred was in noting but his boxers. Remembering the question he tried to answer without looking at Alfred's bare, toned, sexy… He mental slapped himself. Alfred was his brother, let alone another man. "I- um… uhh…"
Alfred stood up to get a better look at Matthew's face. "Are you sick? Your face is really red."
"No, I just… uh…" Matthew turned away from Alfred again. "It's late."
"I know, I'm sorry."
Great job Matthew, you tossed him on the floor and made him sad. What do you have to say for yourself? Matthew looked back at his older brother, "Wanna go out to eat? My treat."
"Sorry, Mattie. I can't go."
"Eh?"
"I'm leaving today, back home to America."
"B-but… We just met…" Matthew felt a tear forming.
"Don't cry Mattie."Alfred wiped the tear away. "You're gonna make me cry too. It's not like we'll never see each other again."
Matthew smiled a bit, "Your right Al, I don't know what I'm crying about. I'm glad… that I have a brother like you."
Alfred smiled too; he chuckled when he saw Matthew crying, "Hey," Matthew looked up to his brother's blue eyes. "You know I love you."
He nodded and whispered into Alfred's ear, "I love you too." The two leaned forward to their last kiss for a very long time.
Lol~ so corny right? You'd think after two years I'd improve at least a big… WELL YOU ARE WONG! (Insert mechanical laughter here)
A little bit too many things don't make sense in the story… but then again I don't make sense.
Word Count: 4,587 (not including author's notes)