Peppermint Winters: I do not own Hetalia
...
Matthew stared at the scene unfolding before him. How did he get himself into this mess? For the first time in his life he had friends- like actual friends, not Kumawhatever and his older brother. The problem? Apparently he was awful at choosing friends, because, you see, friends don't sleep with other friends boyfriend but Alfred slept with Arthur and Gilbert slept with Roderich and- fuck- maybe they should just call the camp 'Camp Prostitution' because that seemed to be exactly what it was. A camp for prostitutes. And, on top of everything, he was still a virgin, and he's pretty sure someone was out to claim his vital regions. Elizabeta or Kiku or whoever was probably going to tape it and put it on the internet and he didn't want to be an armature porn star at seventeen!
He was getting ahead of himself. It all started when Matthew's mom signed him up for summer camp.
...
Matthew Williams stood, only half listening to what his mother was saying to him. He ran a hand through his wavy blond hair. It was making him sweat. He couldn't wait to get settled in and have a nice, cold shower. Then, he would finally get out of his skinny jeans and into some shorts and a t-shirt. When they had left Canada hours before, it was far too cold for summer attire, so he had slipped on a pair of jeans as well as a long sleeve shirt. He regretted it deeply. In the heart of Texas at Camp Wide Wide World he was sweltering.
"…And don't skip any meals, okay? Mattie, are you listening to me? Are you okay? You look flushed." His mother reached out to touch him. You would think that since she was okay with shipping him off to camp for two and a half months in the middle of possibly the hottest place on Earth, she would trust him to be able to take care of himself.
He pushed her hand away in annoyance.
"Mom! I'm fine," he insisted.
"Are you sure? Are you too hot? I told you to wear shorts when we were leaving home this morning. Are the clothes you brought even summer appropriate? Did you pack enough underwear?"
Matthew shot his mom an incredulous look. "Mom! Jesus." She said it loud enough for the whole camp to hear! So sending him off to a camp with no one he knew (except his pesky brother, of course, but that hardly counted) wasn't bad enough, she had to embarrass him too?
Matthew's mother sighed; she was as irritated with her son's behavior as he was with hers. "Oh, birdie, I just want you to be happy."
Matthew looked around shocked. He wondered if any of the passing campers overheard his mother. Everyone seemed to be in their own world. Thankful, he turned back to his mom; however, beyond his mother stood an albino German with a grin on his face. When they made eye contact, Matthew did a double take. The heat must have been getting to him because he swore the German had red eyes. The German saluted to him then walked off.
Dismissing thoughts of the German albino, Matthew turned back to the matter at hand.
"I thought I said not to call me that!"
Before his mother could respond, an unmistakable voice called, "Yo Matt, Mom!"
His mother's face lit up like the summer sun. Matthew sighed. He was hoping to avoid the honey blond American for a while longer.
No such luck.
He turned and came face to face with the golden boy himself.
"Alfred!" his mother said, a smile playing on her face. "It's been so long! Come give me a hug."
Alfred captured her in a bear hug. "I missed you mom! Dad's cool, but he's no you."
"Thanks Alfred! I'm quite lonely without you."
Matthew rolled his eyes. Typical. His mother forgot he even existed the second she spotted Alfred. He walked over to where his duffle bag and suitcase were and picked them up. He contemplated walking away from his mom and Alfred. His mom knew he was angry at her so she wouldn't be surprised. What did she expect anyway? She signed him up for summer camp without consulting him, only to tell him days before the first day of camp. She claimed she had his best interest in mind, but he knew that she just wanted to stick him with Alfred for a summer and see what would happen. He did not want to be a part of her little experiment.
Turning, he made to leave.
"Matt! Where're you going, man? Aren't you gonna give Mom a hug goodbye first?"
With a very audible sigh, Matthew turned. "Bye mom."
His mom enveloped him in a hug, subjecting him to even more heat. "Have fun!" she said holding him at arm's length. "And maybe at the end of the summer you'll thank me, eh."
"Yeah, maybe. But probably not." Matthew murmured. Matthew did not miss the look of hurt that crossed his mother's face,
"C'mon bro. I'll sure you where to put your stuff." Alfred began, grabbing Matthew's duffle bag. "You're rooming with me and my friend Arthur. He's British. You'll love him! We'll have so much fun together. He's kinda anal about grammar though. But besides that he's hella fun." Alfred said as he led him away.
As they walked towards the cabin, Alfred rambled on about how much fun the summer was going to be. Matthew couldn't help but notice how almost everyone stopped what they were doing to say hi to his older brother. Matthew sighed. Alfred was always the popular one. Some beckoned for Alfred to come over but, instead, he declined and continued to talk to his brother. Matthew wasn't particularly listening until one question jumped out at him.
"…were you mad at mom?"
The Canadian turned to his brother surprised. How had his brother been able to tell?
"Because if you were then I hope it wasn't because she sent you here. I mean, she asked me if I could come to Canada to chill y'know, but I begged her to send you here 'cause I thought you would love it."
Matthew turned to examine his brother. He remembered when he kept his hair short like Alfred's and people often came up to him thinking he was the American. No one, however, mistook Alfred for him. Matthew was used to being second rate. Before their parents split up and the small family of four lived in Washington, his brother would have more play dates, more toys, and more presents. When their parents had split he still lived in Alfred's shadow. His mother had more pictures of Alfred in the house. When asked about her kids, his mom would go on and on about her son living in the United States. At first, Matthew could not understand what he was doing wrong. Over time he came to learn that his brother was just charismatic. Everyone liked him because he was charming. Matthew, on the other hand, was about as charming as a baby pig. Matthew found himself in a situation more than once where he was absolutely furious because of the amount of attention his brother got. He could not stay mad at his loud and abrasive brother for long because, despite all the physical harm his brother had caused him in the past, he knew his brother loved him. Sometimes his brother would say things that would make the Canadian think that he really couldn't have a better brother. This was one of these times.
"Thanks Alfred. I'm sure I'll have fun."
Moments later, they stopped in front of a cabin.
Alfred stepped forward, and with the hand not holding the duffle bag, pushed the door open. Standing in the middle of the room was a blonde with the bushiest eyebrows Matthew had ever seen (Seriously, those things looked like they were about to eat his face). He wore a t-shirt with The Union Jack, and blue shorts. He would look like a normal teenager if it wasn't for the fact that his outfit was wrinkle free. Matthew suspected the Briton had taken the time to iron out every wrinkle. Uncharacteristically, the Briton's hair was messy. It didn't seem to fit with his composed guise.
"Arthur!" Alfred yelled, dropping Matthew's duffle bag. Alfred ran over, picked the boy up, and swung him around.
"Put me down, you bloody oaf!" Arthur demanded.
Within seconds he was back on the ground.
"Sorry Artie. I'm just so happy to see you."
A stupid grin was playing on Alfred's face. If Matthew didn't know any better he would think his brother had a crush on the Britt. Matthew had only seen that look on his brother's face when they went into McDonalds'. Then again, Matthew hadn't seen his brother in a fairly long time, so who was he to judge the look on his face?
"Yes, yes." said Arthur as he brushed the wrinkles out of his clothing. "I am quite happy to see you too. I would be happier if our other roommate could show up so we can decide who gets what bed."
That was Matthew's cue to step in. He loudly cleared his throat.
"Oh!" The Briton exclaimed, surprised. "I don't suppose you're Matthew Williams?"
Alfred answered in his stead. "Yup, he's my twin."
Arthur scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. You're an only child."
"Nu uh," said Alfred. "Our parents split up when we were young. I went with my dad and Mattie here went with my mom."
Arthur, in doubt, turned to Matthew. "Is he really your brother?"
Matthew nodded
"I feel very bad for you."
"Hey!" Alfred exclaimed.
"Thank you," Matthew said. His voice is so soft; Arthur barely heard him.
"Hey!" Alfred repeated.
Ignoring his friend, Arthur asked, "Why don't we go ahead and choose a bed? Which bed would you like Matthew?"
He took in his surroundings before answering. There were two suit cases on the floor. One had the Union Jack, so he assumed it was Arthurs, the other was supposed to be a plain blue suitcase, but it was plastered with Superhero stickers. The superhero suitcase he recognized as his brothers. There was one window, but the walls were otherwise bare. In one corner sat a bunk bed and in the other corner, no less than ten feet away was the single bed. A single door sat on the side with the bunk bed. Matthew assumed it lead to a bathroom.
Matthew turned Arthur who was still awaiting an answer. Seeing no particular reason to have any of the beds he said, "Um, anyone will do."
"That's wonderful," said Arthur. "You can have the bottom bunk, I'll take the single, and Alfred, I assume you're okay with the top bunk?"
"I'm more that okay with it! I love the top bunk."
Mathew retrieved his duffle bag from off the ground then proceeded to stick it, and his suit case, under his bunk. He sat on his bed then watched as his brother animatedly conversed with Arthur. They were quarrelling about English and Her Majesty the Queen. He supposed that he could try entering the conversation but he doubted he would get very much in. Instead, he went to explore the bathroom of the Cabin. From what he had heard about camp cabins they usually didn't have a bathroom. He was afraid that the bathroom would be nothing but the toilet and if he did plan on having a shower he would have to use a public one. Luckily for him, the bathroom had a both a toilet and a bath. Deciding that it would be a great time to have a shower, Matthew walked back into his room, grabbed a change of clothes, a towel, as well as a rag and then stepped back into the bathroom. It felt nice to peel the sweat-soaked clothes off of his body and step under the nice, cool spray of water. He couldn't get enough of the feel of the water on his skin. He almost couldn't bring himself to step out of the shower. When he eventually did, he was overcome with heat once more. After getting into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, he stepped out of the bathroom.
Matthew noticed three things as he stood in his room. One, dusk had fallen on the camp, two, his brother and Arthur were nowhere in sight, and three, there seemed to be a lot of people outside his cabin. He took a look outside the cabin window and saw people shuffling in one particular direction. Walking outside his cabin, he tried to see what all the commotion was about. He stood on the stairs of his cabin and peaked over the campers to see where they were going. He was so caught up in figuring out where they were going, he neglected to notice the albino sneaking up behind him.
"Looking for something, Birdie?"
Fright caused Matthew to take a sharp intake of breath.
Turning around, he came face to face with the German he had seen before. He was wearing a white t-shirt with the words "Prussia 1525-1947" in big bold letters on the front, and a pair of black shorts. Matthew realized that his eyes were not deceiving him earlier that day. The German indeed had red eyes. On top of that, his platinum blond hair almost looked white. The albino cleared his throat to alert Matthew that he was staring.
"Look, I know I'm hot and all, but please, refrain from orgasming at my very presence."
Matthew had never been flirted with so bluntly before. He stood, bewildered, racking his brain for some sort of clever comment. All he could think to say was, "You must have heard my mom call me birdie."
"Nah," said the German, his voice laced with sarcasm. "I just saw you and decided that you looked like someone who would be nicknamed Birdie."
For a minute, Matthew couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. With his lack of experience with, well, talking to people, Matthew could only conjure up the response, "Sarcasm?"
"Ja."
"Are you German?" Matthew said, picking up on his very distinct accent.
"Prussian."
Matthew recalled all the information he had learn about the German country in his history class. "That's east Germany right? Didn't it technically become Germany after World War 2?" The last bit of information he stole from the man's shirt.
The "Prussian" stared at him in awe. "Wow, Bidie! Usually no one knows about the awesome country of Prussia except the awesome me."
"Umm, thanks? I pay attention in history. It also says 'Prussia 1525-1947' on your shirt." Matthew admitted.
Gilbert glanced down at his shirt then back up at the Canadian. "I like you. C'mon."
The Prussian began to walk away. Matthew took a few seconds to collect his thoughts before scampering after him.
"Okay. Umm…. Is there any way you could tell me where we're heading?"
"The Bonfire. It's like a beginning of the summer ritual. We all build a huge bonfire, eat lots of food, and go to bed hella late. It's fun."
"Oh. Okay. One more thing…"
"Ja."
"What's your name?"
"Why? So you know whose name to scream when you're in the middle of orgasmic bliss?"
Matthew's face flushed cherry red. He didn't know how to answer. "Um, ah, n-no! I-I-I know I was staring earlier, b-b-but it wasn't anything like that. I swear."
"Chill, birdie. If your going to survive this summer you're going to have to learn to take a joke."
Matthew exhaled in relief. It was just a joke.
"I'm Gilbert."
"Matthew."
"I think I'll just stick to calling you Birdie," the German said with a wink. "Thanks anyway."
...
That should have been Matthew's first clue. If he couldn't have a conversation with Gilbert without the word orgasm, he probably shouldn't be talking to Gilbert in the first place. But he kept walking with the albino. Poor, poor Matthew. He had no idea what he was getting into.
