Pairing: Gilbert Beilshidt/ Matthew Williams (Prussia/Canada)
Human names used.
Hello! I am not much of a writer, but I've decided to go through with this. There may be slow updates for each chapter so I advise you to be patient. I hope you enjoy the story!
Matthew crouched down in the snow, curling his half-numb fingers around his sad attempt of a snowball. Half of it crumbled down to his feet in flakes, getting blown away by the light breeze. He frowned, and wondered how his friend did it. How could he compact snow into a ball without having pieces of it crumble so quickly? He was soon reminded not to be caught off guard when a sphere of snow came spiraling his way. He dodged it just barely, when he felt a cold lump of something cold landing squarely on the bridge of his nose, making his glasses crooked.
"I should've known he'd do that," Matthew quickly punished himself for not remembering. Not to his surprise, he could hear the sound of laughter from a short distance which added to his frustration.
Matthew picked up snow from the ground and blew his warm breath onto it, hoping it would stick together. To his surprise, it kind of worked. He ignored the pieces that fell and stood in a throwing stance. He pulled his elbow back and swung his arm down, only to find the ball landing a few feet in front of him. At this the laughter grew louder.
He hated the mocking laugh. It was one of the small things that irritated him most. This was his last attempt to show his opponent that he could be athletic in something else besides hockey.
He once again picked up a ball of snow, blew air on it, and threw back his elbow. His face twisted in determination as he through all of his weight forward, sending the ball flying in his friend's direction. It caught him off guard, as he was still giddy with laughter. Not anymore. The snowball hit his friend in the ear, and his face turned bright red with embarrassment. He turned his head to look at Matthew, who applauded sarcastically.
"Lucky shot!"
"You weren't even paying attention, Alfred!"
"You need to speak up! I can never hear you!" Matthew sighed and opened his mouth to say something, just before another ball came hurtling his way once again. He ducked and prepared for a second ball, but it never came.
"You're getting better!" Alfred said enthusiastically. Matthew frowned. What did Alfred mean about him "getting better"? He had always played this way, trying to dodge everything thrown at him, because if he tried anything else he'd get injured.
"What are you talking about?" Matthew yelled as loud as he could.
"What?" At this, Matthew stomped through the snow to where Alfred stood.
"I said, what do you mean?"
"What're you talking about?" Alfred stared at Matthew with a confused expression.
"Well, you said I'm getting better, what do you mean?"
"Is that what you said? You could've tried saying it louder."
Matthew ignored Alfred's last statement and asked again. "What did you mean?"
"I was just saying you've gotten better. Do you have a problem with that?"
"Er, but all I've been doing is dodging the snowballs."
"...That's the point of the game, dude." Alfred looked about to laugh.
"Eh?"
"Whatever, we had to stop soon anyway. It's getting late." Matthew turned his head to the pink and orange sunset in the distance. Alfred was right for once.
"Okay... So who do you think won?" Matthew asked while following Alfred up the slight slope of the hill.
"Well, judging by the way your glasses are hanging, I'd say me!" Alfred gave an almost condescending laugh.
Matthew crossed his arms and furrowed his eyebrows. "Hmph,"
"Don't worry, maybe you'll win next time!"
"That's pretty optimistic of you,"
"Or I'll let you when next time."
"Or we can play hockey?" this was the tenth time today that Matthew had asked this.
"No way," Alfred crossed his arms. "The last time we played together I nearly got killed by a stick."
"The last time we played baseball you nearly broke my nose."
"Actually I do that every time we play baseball." Alfred began to laugh, but stopped when he saw the look on Matthew's face.
Alfred stepped up on the porch steps to their small house and rang the doorbell. Matthew rolled his eyes and gave a small smirk.
"Hello?" Alfred sounded like a small child. "Anybody home?"
"Just open the door."
"Hold on! I think somebody's coming!" Matthew bit back a laugh and reached for the knob. He pushed the door open and turned to face Alfred.
"Must you do that every time we come in here?"
"Yes actually," They stepped inside the living room where as always, the first thing you see is an old green couch, a large red chair, and other mismatching furniture.
"I'm gonna go to McDonald's to get a hamburger. Do you want one?"
Matthew responded immediately to this question as always. "I'll just stick to my toaster pancakes and syrup, thanks."
Alfred shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever you say,"
Matthew went over to the kitchen and grabbed the toaster pancakes from the freezer. He pulled the tab of the wrapper and tried to open the package as hard as he could, but just ended up whacking himself in the forehead.
"Here," Alfred outstretched his hand and signaled for Matthew to give him the package. Of course, Alfred opened it swiftly and quickly. Matthew's cheeks burned red as he was handed back the pancakes.
"...Thanks," he mumbled as he put the pancakes in the cheap toaster. Alfred squeezed past him, back to the living room.
"I'll be back in ten minutes." Alfred called over to Matthew just before shutting the door. How can he constantly go to that place without getting sick? He leaned forward, tapping his fingers on the counter and propping his head with his hand.
After dodging snowballs nearly all day, Matthew realized how tired he was. He didn't know about Alfred though, he was always hyper and excited about everything. He's been like that since they were both little kids.
Matthew jumped when he heard the sound of the doorbell ring. Maybe Alfred decided not to go and came back? Whatever the reason, Matthew decided it didn't matter and went over to the front door, barely noticing the sound of his pancakes popping from the toaster. Deciding they were probably too hot to touch anyways, he opened the door, letting the freezing air in.
Instead of the booming blond with glasses he was so used to seeing, a young man with extremely light hair, pale skin, and eyes that were a light brown with a tint of... red? Matthew took a step back, slightly startled by this man's appearance.
He finally managed the words to come from his mouth. "Um... can I help you?"
An almost supercilious smile appeared on the man's face and he held out a large box. "Hello, my name is Gilbert and I'm selling German beer for three dollars a bottle. Would you like to buy some?"
"Er - we don't drink, sorry."
"Come on, you know you want some. It's probably going to be the most awesome bottle of beer you've had in your whole life!"
"I already said we don't drink!" Matthew reached for the knob of the door to try to stop this strange man from selling him this German beer.
"Take the beer you American!" 'Gilbert's voice suddenly turned loud. Matthew took another step backwards.
"I-I'm Canadian,"
"Same difference!"
Matthew raised his eyebrows in offense. "Excuse me, eh?"
"Could you please just buy one bottle?"
"What use will it do?"
"Maybe it'll feed my Grandpa, brother, and I? Plus, it'll make you a little awesome... just not as awesome as me of course."
Matthew crossed his arms. "Three dollars?"
"It's better than nothing," Gilbert gave a small wink.
"Uh... I don't think so," Over Gilbert's shoulder, Matthew could see that Alfred was already pulling into the driveway.
"Really? Well... I guess I'll get going then," Matthew sighed in relief as Gilbert turned to walk away.
Alfred stared at Gilbert through the car window and waited for him to cross the street before coming out of the car. He walked up to the house with a white McDonald's bag in his hands and a single french fry poking out of his mouth.
"Who was that?" he spoke while chewing his food.
"Just a salesman,"
"So that's why he had a box," Alfred paused. "What was he selling?"
Matthew went over to grab his pancakes from the toaster and got maple syrup from the refrigerator. "...German beer,"
Alfred responded almost immediately. "Isn't that illegal?"
They both sat down at eh small table. "I don't know, but if it isn't then it should be."
Alfred laughed. "I knew I should've put up a 'No Solicitors' sign up!" Matthew didn't see how that was funny but just went with it.
"Did you see his eyes?" Matthew took a bite from his food.
No, I don't really pay attention to that kind of stuff, Matt."
"Well they were... a reddish color."
"Really? Maybe he has color contacts," Matthew shrugged and continued eating his pancakes. "Anyways, why would somebody go around selling bottles of beer in the middle of winter?" Alfred spoke with a large amount of burger in his mouth.
"I guess he's desperate for money? He did say the money would help his family or something."
"Yeah, but people tell that to buyers to make them feel bad." Matthew nodded slightly.
"I guess so," Although, this man kind of interested Matthew. He couldn't put his finger on it but there was just something. It was probably the fact that he was so strange and different. The extremely light hair, the pale skin, and the especially odd eyes.
Matthew finished his food surprisingly quickly and stood. He then grabbed his plate, washed it in the sick, and sat down on the couch.
"Done already, Matt?" Of course Alfred's mouth was full again when he spoke.
"Yeah,"
"Oh hey," Alfred stopped to swallow. "Do you mind if you turn on the TV to The Weather Channel? I want to see how cold it'll be this week." From the angle Alfred was at, he could see the television perfectly.
Matthew stood again, having just sat down, and pressed the power button on the television. There was a quick flash and the screen showed the currently airing program. One of those old American cartoons. He grabbed the remote and sat back down while dialing the number of the channel.
A commercial about fertilizer was playing, encouraging people to buy their brand for the spring time instead of their competitor's. After a person repeatedly telling a phone number the "The Local on the 8's" intro popped up. The temperature was 28 degrees Fahrenheit with high chance of heavy snow in a few hours.
"There's going to be a snowstorm tonight," Matthew said to nobody in particular.
"Seriously? Maybe we can finally build a snowman!" Alfred sounded like a small child.
A small orange bar suddenly appeared at the bottom of the screen reading "Winter Storm Warning".
Matthew nodded as he spoke, "I guess so,"
"I just wish winter wasn't so cold! That Japanese guy down the street is almost always outside during the winter. I don't know how he can stand it!" Alfred shuddered and looked down at his hamburger. Matthew couldn't relate to this very well. He always liked the cold. The summer months are always too hot and the bugs make it even worse.
Alfred's face scrunched up as he read the seven day forecast. "It's supposed to rain all week?"
"That's what it says," Matthew's mouth formed a small smile. The only bad thing about this would be that they would have to shovel the driveway… well, Matthew would. Alfred never did outdoor chores in the winter. He'd just claim he needs to sleep and would hide under the covers of his bed, waiting until Matthew was over.
The screen turned back to its normal program to show a woman pointing out multiple locations on radar. One of the locations was near where Alfred and Matthew lived. She said that their area would get exceptionally heavy snowfall.
Alfred looked both excited and nervous. As much as he wanted to go outside, he could never bear the cold. Matthew chuckled at the look on his face.
"What?" Alfred suddenly looked paranoid. Matthew almost laughed harder, but stopped himself before he started.
"Nothing,"
The rest of the evening was spent watching television and waiting for the storm to hit. By ten o'clock it finally began to snow and Matthew decided to go to sleep. He would be busy tomorrow with shoveling the driveway and possibly doing something in the snow with Alfred.
Matthew pulled on his pajamas in the middle of the bathroom and brushed his teeth. Alfred must have decided to go to sleep too, because through the crack at the bottom of the door the light turned off.
Matthew rinsed his mouth and opened the door to allow Alfred in. He stepped out of the bathroom and into their bedroom. His bed was furthest from the door and closest to the window. It was snowing so hard already that he could barely see out the window.
He lay down on the bed, covering himself in blankets. He fell asleep in a matter of minutes, barely noticing Alfred stepping into the room.
Hello again! Thank you for reading chapter 1! I hope you'll be back for chapter 2! :3