Hi guys, this is my first fanfic, I hope you all enjoy it. It seems tame now but is rated M for future chapters!

WARNING: Contains YAOI/ BOYXBOY

DISCLAIMER: As much as I would like to, I do not own Hetalia or any of its characters.

ENJOY ~ringoichico~

Alfred's elbow slipped off the side of his desk, causing him to awaken with a start. For a moment he blinked rapidly, slightly dazed, before taking in the familiar sight of the busy classroom around him and straightening his glasses.

"Ah, Alfred! Bonjour, mon ami!" Came a familiar voice. Alfred felt a hand on his shoulder and glanced up at the owner of the voice, who in return winked and smiled at the sandy blonde. "I was wondering when you were planning on waking up. You seem to spend most of your school day sleeping recently."

Alfred looked at his watch and realised he had been sleeping for just over an hour. Much to the annoyance of the cleaning staff he had been coming in early to sleep for the past couple of months. The predictability and comfort of the school day was a haven for Alfred, and lately he had found that the building was the only one in which he could feel safe enough to fall asleep. God knows with his father's alcoholism home life was hectic enough to keep him from sleeping. Instead he spent the night playing video games and eating snacks, as well as dreaming about finally being able to move out after high school had ended. Just over a year to go.

"Mornin', Francis," Alfred yawned, stretching his arms up above his head before affectionately punching the Frenchman softly on his arm, "And how would you be this morning, dude?" Alfred intentionally avoided addressing his friends' questions about his recent sleeping patterns. He had managed to keep his home life and friendships separate thus far, and would like the situation to remain that way.

"Ah, I am well, mon ami, although I hear that Monsieur Peterson has had to quit and left on 'urgent family business' and so we are to have a new history teacher! C'est très mal, non?" Francis sighed, even as he directed flirty glances at the girls in the class, most of whom were entirely infatuated with his beautiful blond locks and his typical French charm "Monsieur Peterson was your favourite teacher, was he not?"

"No way! Dude, that totally sucks! He was so Goddamn nice. Man, History is gonna blow. I bet they give us some lame grandpa who just wants to read endlessly from a textbook." Alfred huffed and slumped onto the desk.

A small group of girls giggled and blushed as Francis blew a quick kiss their way. "We shall see, shall we not? We can always hope we might get a beautiful woman with a tight shirt and long legs, non?"

Alfred was about to give Francis a quick telling off for being such a womaniser, but their homeroom teacher came in and began morning registration, sending Francis back to his seat. The two blonds caught each other's eye and grinned. "See you in History, dude" mouthed Alfred as he gave the Frenchman his trademark heroic grin.

First period Physics dragged on for what seemed like an age. Without Francis to keep him company and distract him during boring lessons, Alfred's mind kept wandering back to the situation at home, and how he was going to make sure that the rent got paid that month. Alfred had a part time job as a waiter at a busy coffee shop near the small apartment he called home, and for the most part it managed to cover everything, but this month had been particularly tight seeing as every electrical appliance in the apartment had decided to break, warranting extra expenditure.

At long last the bell sounded, and Alfred, shaking his head to clear his thoughts, grabbed his stuff and headed down the corridor to History. He picked up Francis along the way before taking his usual seat at the front next to the window while the class waited for the replacement teacher. Alfred liked being able to look out the window to the sports fields below and watch the teams practice. There was a time when Alfred was really into sports, but his recent situation had left him too tired and strapped for time to continue. He regretted it, but he could always take it up again later in life, he thought.

He was still gazing dreamily out onto the fields when he heard a girl take in a short gasp behind him, and felt Francis' elbow jab painfully into his ribs.

"OW! Dude what the f…" Alfred trailed off once he saw what had caused such a response.

The man who had just walked in through the door was not what anyone was expecting from a replacement History teacher. Alfred's gaze wandered from a pair of expertly polished black shoes, up a pair of long, seemingly never-ending legs, to a slim but strong looking torso clad in an expensive – looking grey pinstripe suit with maroon tie, before resting on the man's face.

Alfred felt his jaw drop, along with most of the class's. A pair of incredibly green eyes stared straight out from under a shock of light blond hair and two thick eyebrows, a slight nervous smile graced the man's smooth lips, and a slight blush decorated the flawless skin of his cheeks. Alfred doubted he had ever seen anything so beautiful in his life.

The man strode to the front of the class, and in impeccably neat handwriting wrote the name "Mr. Kirkland" on the board.

"Good morning, class," he said after clearing his throat. "My name is Mr. Kirkland, and I will be taking you for History for the remainder of this year. I do hope we will get on."

At this, the vast majority of the girls in the class, as well as Francis, let out a quiet squeaking noise. The figure in front of them had just spoken in the most amazingly attractive British accent. Every syllable enunciated to perfection, his voice smooth as liquid caramel. The class was astounded; Alfred was entranced.

Clearly slightly put off by the seeming lack of response to his initial introduction, Mr. Kirkland once again cleared his throat and continued, "I realise that having a new teacher at this time of year can be a bit of a jolt, and so that's why I would like to address any concerns you may have and also get to know you all a bit. Feel free to find me in the History staff roo- I mean, faculty lounge, and I will be more than happy to have a jolly good chat with you! Now, before I dismiss you all early"- he held up a hand to quell the cheering that had broken out- "Any questions?" The blonde beamed at the class. He seemed very enthusiastic, thought Alfred. He could only be, what? 24? 25? Either way he had a charming mix of eagerness and an air of intelligence about him. What a man.

No one asked any questions. It was a sunny day outside and everyone seemed eager to find their friends and gossip about the sexy new teacher that had miraculously appeared in the school. Mr. Kirkland smiled and gave everyone permission to leave, though under strict orders that they "read pages 34-45 of the textbook and make notes on what they deem the most important points".

The class started to gather their belongings together and move out, as Francis turned to Alfred and mouthed "Mon Dieu!". All the sandy blond could do was blink and gape.

The Frenchman seemed to have noticed that Alfred was in a severe state of shock, and so forced him to move out of the seat onto which he seemed to be glued, practically dragging him out of the classroom. "What on Earth is wrong with you, mon ami?" he muttered.

They were almost out the door when Mr. Kirkland's clear voice rang out behind them.

"Ah, I'm terribly sorry to interrupt, but are you Alfred Jones, by any chance?"

Alfred immediately snapped out of his daze, and turned to face the teacher, feeling his face redden. How did the teacher know his name already? "Yes Mr. – ah – Kirkland?"

"Could you possibly stay behind for just a few moments? I would like to talk to you a little." He said, cocking his head slightly to the side. Alfred was horrified to realise that he found the gesture immensely adorable.

"Of course. Um, Francis, can you go on ahaed of me? I'll see you later dude." The Frenchman nodded in response and sauntered out of the classroom, shutting the door behind him.

"Ah, yes. Please, take a seat Mr. Jones." Mr. Kirkland gestured to a seat in front of the teacher's desk at the front of the class. Alfred obliged, still unable to take his eyes from the Englishman as he watched him take his position on the other side of the desk.

"Now, Mr. Jones, It says here in my notes that you, for the duration of your time at this school, have been pretty much constantly at the top of the class in History. Can I presume a keen interest in the subject?" Mr. Kirkland asked, his sparkling emerald eyes gazing intensely at Alfred.

"Er- Well, that is – Yes I am interested in it, I mean, it's always been my favourite class and er…" Alfred trailed off awkwardly, pushing his glasses up his nose and fidgeting constantly. He was furious at himself. Why was he so self conscious. Heroes weren't self conscious by nature.

Mr. Kirkland beamed. "Excellent. History really is fantastic, is it not? It is the witness that testifies to the passing of time; it illuminates reality, vitalizes memory, provides guidance in daily life, and brings us tidings of antiquity. That's a Cicero quote and it pretty much embodies my passion towards the subject. And it also inspires me to ignite that same passion in others, which is why I was so excited to meet a student who apparently shares the same interest. However, one thing I have noted is that in the last few tests your scores have been rather below the standard set by your past achievements. I know I'm new here but I want you to know if there's anything bothering you that is affecting your studies, I am of course here to listen, and do whatever I can to help."

Alfred's flush deepened further "Er, well I know I've not been doing as well recently but er… I'm sure I can get back on track. And er, thanks. But er, really there's nothing that bad going on. I'm just er… stressed about SATs and stuff." His eyes were fixed on the floor now. He somehow couldn't stand to lie to this man, and definitely couldn't look him in the eyes while he did so, though when he eventually raised his eyes back to that mesmerising face a gentle smile was adorning it, lighting up his features, his eyes glistening their unbelievable deep green. Alfred felt his heart skip a beat. What the hell was going on?

"Well," continued Mr. Kirkland, his eyes staring straight into Alfred's "if you ever do really feel like there's anything you want to talk about, I'm your man. I hope we will get on famously! I'm sorry to have kept you so long, Mr. Jones. You're free to go!"

Alfred nodded, and got up to leave. His face was hot and his heart was thudding, which he decided to attribute to the heat in the room, rather than to the presence of this man he barely knew. The sooner he left, he figured, the sooner he would be able to compose himself.

Mr. Kirkland rose as well as Alfred took his leave and headed to the door. Just before he reached it, he was stopped in his tracks by the teacher's interjection.

"Oh, by the way, Mr. Jones, call me Arthur."

Alfred spun round in shock and stared at the teacher. That kind smile had once again graced his lips, leaving Alfred speechless.

"…Arthur…" Alfred muttered distractedly, before realising he had just said it aloud. His eyes widened and his cheeks blushed a deep crimson. "Ah! I er – have to go." With this, he spun on the spot and ran as fast as he could out of the classroom and down the corridor.

He rushed to the nearest bathroom and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He was a mess, his hair was scruffy, his face was bright red and his eyes were shining a ridiculously bright blue. "What the hell, Alfred?" He whispered to himself, before splashing his face with the coldest water he could handle. He dried his face using the bottom of his shirt and stared at the ceiling. How could one man's company cause his body to react this way? One man's company. Alfred was pretty sure he wasn't gay. He'd had girlfriends in the past, and never thought about men in that way. But Mr Kirkland. Arthur. He was something else. Before he had realised it, another soft "Arthur" had passed his lips. He immediately flung his hands up to his mouth in horror. He wasn't gay, dammit. It was just hot in the room, right?

"WHAT THE FUCK?" Alfred yelled. Luckily the bathroom was empty so no one was around to hear his outburst. This brief moment of relief from all the tumultuous feelings inside of him bought a brief moment of clarity to his mind. Francis. He needed to talk to Francis. He was the expert on love and lust and the like.

One last quick check in the mirror later, Alfred was running at full pelt towards the tree under which he knew Francis would be sat, where they always sit during free periods. Francis would know what to do about this.

"I'm not gay I'm not gay I'm not gay…."

That's it for the first chapter! I hope you liked it! Thank you for taking time to read it and any reviews would be greatly appreciated! I will update as soon as possible! :3