A/N: Okay, so this is The Parent Trap: Hetalia style. And while it doesn't really follow true to the plotline, it should still make sense (or as much sense as I can make my stories, which isn't too much) even if you've never seen The Parent Trap. And I'm still trying to figure out the science of it. Because two men having babies is impossible, so I've been told. Ugh, things have to be so complicated. Enjoy.
Matthew Williams stepped quietly out of the car, shutting the door to the backseat behind him. The hustle and bustle around him didn't halt at the appearance of the shiny, black town car or the skinny Canadian boy, which wasn't too unusual for him. He leaned through the open driver's window, coming face-to-face with his handsome, long-haired father, Francis Bonnefoy.
"Oh, mon cher, do you have to leave?" he asked, his long, thick eyelashes fluttering flirtatiously. Matthew, used to his obscene behaviour, just rolled his eyes.
"I'm going to miss you too, mon pere," the boy replied, wrapping his arms around Francis's neck and squeezing. "It's only three weeks, though, and I promise to write you every other day."
Francis chuckled, returning his son's embrace. "As I promise to write back." He kissed Matthew on the cheek and let him slither out the car window. "Au revoir, mon amour."
"Au revoir," Matthew echoed, picking up his luggage from where it was piled outside the trunk and watching Francis drive away. Turning around, he looked at the long line of campers waiting to register and joined in at the back. The people in front of him didn't even seem to notice his presence, and he clutched his little polar bear, Kumajirou.
Meanwhile, a crowd of people were eagerly gathering in the long, semicircular driveway. A sleek, ivory-coloured limosuine pulled slowly up to the curb, and chattering began as a teenager wearing jeans, an olive green t-shirt, and his favourite bomber jacket stepped out of the backseat, toting his luggage nonchalantly behind him with impressive strength. He flashed a smile and began to wave to the crowd before his hand was pulled down by a short, crabby blonde man who had just stepped out of the limo behind him.
"Alfred," he scolded in a heavy British accent, glaring at him, "cut the shit, please."
Alfred F. Jones scoffed melodramatically, causing the crowd of girls around him to giggle. "Yes, Mother," he replied mockingly, and more laughter erupted. His father, Arthur Kirkland, blushed and rolled his eyes at the giddy teens.
"Promise me you won't get anybody knocked up over the next three weeks, okay?"
The pair dragged the enormous amount of baggage into the registration line behind a boy about Alfred's height holding a stuffed animal. "I promise," Alfred replied. "I'm sure nobody here is really my type."
Arthur chuckled, waiting patiently in line with his son as the boy in front of them registered. "Alfred F. Jones," the obnoxiously loud American stated when he was finally done.
"Oh, yes," the gruff, German man at the register stated. "We have been anxiously awaiting your arrival, Mr. Jones." He handed Alfred a paper to sign and looked back at Arthur, tilting his head. "Are you going to be registering, too?" he asked.
The Brit gasped as Alfred grinned devilishly. "No," the boy answered for his father. "I know it's kind of hard to tell, considering he's so short-" Arthur scowled at more laughter from the gang that seemed to follow them- "but really, he's just here to drop me off. He's my dad, actually."
The man looked shocked, and stuttered, embarassed. "Oh- oh, I'm terribly sorry. I didn't- I- have a safe trip home." He nodded curtly and excused them. Arthur shook his head as his son roared with laughter.
"You can always come camping with me, dad."
"I think I'll pass."
"Okay, fine." Alfred shrugged and wrapped his big arms around the shorter man, startling him. He didn't return the hug, unable to move his limbs. When the American finally let go of him, Arthur gave his son an ugly glare. "Bye!" Alfred said sweetly.
"Hmph. Good riddance," Arthur replied, but a smile played at the edges of his mouth. Finally, he gave Alfred a proper hug. "Will you send me postcards and whatnot?"
Alfred's heart suddenly melted. "Of course I will. And I promise not to get anyone knocked up."
"Yes, you know what came of it the last time that happened," his father joked.
"Yeah. Me." Alfred smiled and let the crowd engulf him while the Brit walked back to the limo. They kidded all the time about the summer romance that had led to the child's birth, but in truth, the child really missed having two parents. Sometimes, he even wondered about siblings, and why Arthur's mystery love didn't care to have another child, even if it was with his pessimistic, feminine father.
Across the courtyard, Matthew Williams watched all the action surrounding this curious new boy and wondered the very same thing.
A/N: So, yeah, corny ending. Sorry about that. Reviews appreciated.