A/N: Hi guys! And so begins my debut into the Canada x America shipping fandom. I have to admit, at first I thought it was weird since I was a hardcore UsUk shipper. Then, I was sent a link to a story on here that changed my mind completely. I still love UsUk, but AmeCan is just...wow. So, here is my story~!
One
I stood outside of the dorm room door, holding the first cardboard box of my things. I was nervous. I hadn't met my roommate yet. What if we didn't get along? That would suck. I'd hate to share a dorm with someone who I didn't like or who didn't like me.
I took a deep breath. You're the hero! I told myself as I balanced the box on my right hand and turned the door knob with my left. I opened to door. I saw no one at first, just a few suitcases in the middle of the room. Then, I saw the guy. He was tall, but small framed, still only coming to about my ears. His skin was pale from what I could see of his revealed arms. His hair was a light honey gold, waving to barely brush his shoulders. He was looking out the window above a nightstand in between the two regular sized beds.
I cleared my throat to make myself known, not wanting to scare the poor fellow. It seemed my efforts were futile when he jumped, turning to face me.
"Um, hello! I-I didn't hear you come in. You must be my roommate. I'm Matthew Williams," he said, blushing and extending a hand to me.
"Didn't mean to startle you, Matthew. I'm Alfred. Alfred F. Jones. It's nice to meet you! I was thinkin' I'd end up with some psycho-serial killer type, but it's a relief to see that I have you instead!" I laughed, shaking his hand.
"It's, uh, nice to meet you, too, Alfred. Not saying that I am a, what was it? A psycho serial killer? But, how exactly did you deduce that I was 'normal'?" he questioned me, a curious look in his violet eyes framed by glasses.
"Ah, well, I am a hero, so of course I can tell the bad guys from the good guys!" I blurted, becoming distracted by the rare color of his eyes. What the hell am I doing? I thought, mentally shaking my head.
"Oh, well, alright, then," he said, giving me a smile.
"Yeah," I replied, not knowing what else to say. "So, did you choose which side of the room you wanted? You got here first."
"No, I was waiting for you. I don't really mind either side. And you?" he said, turning the question to me.
"I'll take this side," I said, jerking my free left hand towards the left side of the room.
"Cool. So, where are you from?" Matthew asked me, unpacking his things and sliding them into the dresser on his side of the room.
"I'm from Texas. You?"
"Ontario," he replied, pausing briefly in his work to look over at me.
"Whoa, Canadian, eh?" I smiled, mimicking a Canadian tick.
"Born and raised, yes," he smiled. "What brings a country boy to Kansas?"
"Football and a fresh start. What brings a Canadian down here to the States?" I retorted, ignoring his pretty smile. Pretty? This guy just looks a bit girly. That's it. I told myself, trying to figure out why he was so distracting. That had to be it.
"You're a football player? Nice. I'm more into hockey myself. Well, I don't play, not anymore, but I love a good hockey game," he said. "I came here for a fresh start myself. Plus, who would turn down a chance to go to another country for school?"
"Ah, that's true. So, what are you studying?" I asked, putting away my own things.
"Technology. I've always been pretty good with computers, so why not learn how to build them for a living? What about you, football star?"
"I'm studying to be a chemist. More specifically, I intend to work with medicine," I replied, watching the hock dance across his face.
"Medicinal chemistry? Not bad. You don't see a lot of people studying to work with and develop medicines," he commented.
"Yeah, I guess so," I laughed. "So, Matty, you don't mind if I call you that, right? How do you like the States so far?"
"Um, sure, go ahead," he blushed again. "Well, I've only been here a few hours, but I like it so far."
"You just got here today? Oh man, you have to let me take you out for some drinks to celebrate our new friendship!" I said, getting excited.
"Um, Alfred, do you even know where any bars are here? Didn't you just get here, too?"
"Nah, bro. I've been to Kansas before. Back in high school, we used to play these Kansas boys all the time. I know a few good bars around here." He gave me a questioning look. "Of course, back then I had a fake I.D. to get in to the bars, Matty."
He shook his head and gave a quick snort, "Well, well Alfred, I didn't take you for the type to be a law breaker."
"What can I say? I like to have fun," I winked at him.
"Oh, I am sure you do!" he laughed. "So what time did you want to go out? It's six now."
"Oh hell, it's six already? Well, let's get dressed and then we'll walk over to this really chill bar a few blocks from here," I replied, going through my drawers to find an acceptable shirt and pants to wear.
"Okay," he replied, doing the same.
We left at about six thirty, arriving at the bar not too long after that. Matty had chosen to wear a hoodie with the Canadian flag on it and jeans. I chose to go with a black t-shirt and jeans, completed with my bomber jacket I got from my grandpa a few years before.
We entered the bar, heading towards the bar tender and counter to sit. The bar was a bit busy, but not overly so. There were quite a few cute girls around, but I found my attention being pulled to the Canadian to my right as the bar tender came to ask us for our orders.
"It's on me, so get whatever you like," I told him as the man approached.
"Alright. I'll haveā¦a Molson," he said, his eyes lighting up at the name of the beer.
"Coke and rum for me," I said as the bar tender looked in my direction. He nodded and set about getting our drinks.
"Molson? That's a beer, right?" I asked.
"Yeah, it's pretty popular in Canada. I didn't think they'd have it here."
"Well, it's a good thing we came here, then," I said as the bar tender handed us our drinks. I took a sip of mine at the same time Matty took a swig of his beer.
Things were going good. We got along really well. Matty even laughed at my stupid jokes. We were both buzzed about two hours in when I felt a hand on my shoulder.
"Hey there, pretty lady," a slurred male voice said, eyeing Matty. I was about to say something when the drunken man spoke again. "This fella botherin' you? Why don'tcha come on over and sit with my friends and me over there?"
"Hey man, I don't know where you get off callin' my bro here a chick, but ya need to back off, got it?" I said, moving his hand off of me.
"Your bro?" he questioned, not understanding in his drunken stupor. "Why don't you go on somewhere with whomever the hell you're talkin' about and let me talk to this lady here?"
I stood up, getting pissed. "Why don't you," I pushed him slightly, "take your drunken ass somewhere? This is a dude. Get it? A guy! So, unless you go for the guys, I'd suggest you move along, pal."
"Alright, alright! Don't hit me, man!" the guy said, backing up and then going away. I sighed and sat back down.
"Thanks, Alfred. You didn't have to do that, you know. I was going to ignore him. That wasn't exactly the first time I have been mistaken for a girl nor do I doubt it will be the last," Matty said, blushing once again.
"What? You mean this happens often? Bro, listen, if you ever need help with stuff like that, just call me. I'll come bail ya out," I told him.
"Oh, um, thanks, but I don't have your number, remember?" he said.
"Right. Let me see your phone for a sec," I replied, extending my hand.
"My phone? Okay, here," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. He ran his thumb across the screen to unlock it with the correct pattern and handed it to me. I put in my number, texted myself his name and handed it back to him.
"Now you do," I said, taking a drink of my drink.
I felt another hand on my shoulder and was ready to punch someone. I turned around, glaring over my own glasses at whoever was unlucky enough to feel my wrath. That drunken asshole better have not come back or so help me God! I thought to myself. My eyes widened as I saw the person.
A/N: So? Whatcha think?
