My first Hetalia fanfic, a fandom that I've loved since... I dunno
I didn't really think that I'd be doing one seeing as I mainly just love reading fanfics myself and I'm a shy being and all hahaha. So anyway, I'm not used to this yet so sorry if the characters are kinda OOC. Especially France. I have no idea how to portray him, seriously. So I kinda need help with him. And all the other things that I suck at. Yeah.
Oh and this is actually gonna be a parody of every movie, book, song or whatever object that comes into my mind and I'll try to connect and make it into one big plot. So anyway, multichapter, with multiple pairings, cursing and some colorful words used, plus dry humor. Expect slow updates too. Constructive criticisms are welcome
Disclaimer: Hetalia and it's characters and all the things I based this on does not belong to me.
When Antonio Fernandez Carriedo had been jumped on by his two best-fucking-friends-since-birth in front of his apartment on his 25th birthday, he knew he'd be in deep trouble. In totally deep trouble.
Because first of all, no sane person really rings the doorbell ten times in rapid succession at 6:00 am in the morning, accompanied by loud blasts of an air horn of all things. Antonio knew at once who he was going to face and he knew he'd be buried under a mountain of complaints from his neighbors later on too. Either way, his guests, for once, wouldn't be his grumpy landlord who never, in Antonio's stay, smiled at him. Not once, he could swear to that. Today's guests would be his best friends, either the loud, carefree, German albino named Gilbert Beilschmidt, or the calm yet, slightly eccentric French named Francis Bonnefoy. Or of course, it could have been both, which was not very surprising at all in the Spaniard's case. True to his suspicions, upon opening the door, Antonio was greeted by two grinning men, or to be specific, only one grinning man and another, looking extremely irritated.
"Gilbert, what kind of asshole brings an air horn of all things and blows it at 6 am?" Francis, whose French accent had grown much heavier due to irritation (not that it wasn't already. The Frenchman took great pride in his accent). With a strict shake of his head, he decided not to wait for the answer of his German companion and focused his eyes on the Spaniard standing in front of him, who sported a small, uneasy smile. "Antonio!" both men exclaimed. "Happy birthday you tiny tanned son of a bitch!" came Gilbert's greeting, as loud as his air horn, to which Antonio replied with a soft hey and a wave. Oh yes, this really meant trouble.
Both Francis and Gilbert seemed excited enough when the Spaniard ushered them inside his apartment. Suddenly, Antonio felt quite embarrassed at not cleaning his apartment even for a little bit, but since the two were his best friends, and quite possibly his brothers, separated from birth, the feeling quickly vanished into thin air. The three made their way in, wading across a sea of term papers, medical books, notes, other college-related trash, numerous cups of instant noodles and bottles of energy drinks and a crate of tomatoes in one corner (to which Francis wouldn't ask about). There was barely any room for the three to settle down and it took about 20 minutes before they were able to clear out a spot for them to sit on. Normally, it would have taken Antonio an hour before he would be able to clear a space, but with all thanks to Gilbert's strong throwing arm, the pile of trash that was close to the corner of the room continued to grow into a mountain as more trash was hurled into the pile by the albino.
"Sorry about all this junk guys. Really busy these past few weeks." Antonio said pushing away the last of the papers piled up on the floor. Both of his friends merely gave him a nod and pushed away the remains of half eaten instant spaghetti, which they assumed was the Spaniard's breakfast for the day. Francis, the ever gourmet, frowned in disgust, while Gilbert mainly just whistled, looking over at the messy apartment, staying quiet for a while. This gave Antonio enough time to assess his best friends, which he had not seen for nearly three years.
To Antonio, Francis and Gilbert were just as he had remembered. The last time they saw each other were Christmas three years ago, and the two didn't change much, except for the addition of facial hair on Francis' face, making him look like a true big brother in the Spaniard's eyes. He had been growing it since he turned 18, but it only became much visible now. Francis still kept the same shoulder-length blonde hair, refusing to cut it short. His blue eyes still had the soft yet knowing spark in them. He was the eldest among the three of them and he had always tried to look like the eldest. Before, it had not really worked, as he had always been overshadowed by Gilbert, and at some point in time, almost by Antonio. But looking at Francis now, he had the look perfect for the role of an older brother. True enough, the French had been proud of this, especially when the time came that it wasn't just the teenage girls who were attracted to him, but also older women, who worked in offices and corporations. Although Antonio had never seen his friend with an older woman before, it couldn't be impossible to see him with one as he knew Francis wasn't that picky with his object of affections, despite the abundance in choices. Of course, that's just one of the many perks of having a sophisticated and elegant charm, as Francis would put it himself.
Shifting his gaze to the side, Antonio's eyes landed on his German friend. Gilbert didn't change at all. Same old, silvery white hair or it could have been pure white or platinum, or greyish, Antonio still couldn't decide. It was still chopped sloppily and carelessly, asymmetrical, but somehow, it looked good on the German, many had agreed. Not that Gilbert really cared about it, he just went with what he had, be it bed hair or a perfectly gelled in place, work-of-art hair. Why didn't he care? Simple: It always went back to being sloppy. His red eyes gleamed with the same childish mischievousness that he had as a child, having failed to outgrow it as the years passed and they aged older. Despite them being red, at some angles, one would have mistaken it for a reddish violet, going blue. It was an interesting thing that made girls stare at the German and Antonio admitted that he, sometimes, still did as well. Gilbert had repeatedly argued that his eyes were normal, maybe a bit heterochromatic as much as he it was a product of albinism, but they definitely were normal, in his standards. Antonio had long given up on trying to understand Gilbert's definition of normal, but then again, he himself had a different definition of that word. A grin was plastered on the German's face, showing off his pearly white teeth. Not that Gilbert would admit to it, but he diligently brushes them to white perfection, being the neat-freak he secretly was. It was one of the many little traits that Gilbert shared with his younger brother Ludwig, who always seemed to be the complete opposite of Gilbert. However, people like Antonio know for a fact that those two are very much alike.
"So!" Gilbert finally started, sitting straight up with excitement dripping from his voice. The sudden outburst pulled Antonio from his observation, finding the German with his feet on the coffee table, crushing a few of Antonio's important papers. Or maybe they weren't that important. Having been so tired and stressed for weeks, Antonio couldn't bring himself to care about anything college related anymore.
"Y'know what today is? Today's your 25th birthday and we are going to get all that fun shit started for you right now! Tonight, Toni, my man, we're going to go—"
"H-Hold on Gil." Antonio said, quickly cutting the German off. "Okay so first off, it's so nice of you guys to come over and plan all this… stuff but I can't go out tonight. I've got this interview that I'm currently slaving on and preparing for. You know how it is mi amigos." Antonio explained, gesturing wildly all over his messed up apartment, a sudden desperate look flashing on his usually cheerful face.
Francis nodded his head and sighed. "Ah, I totally get it, it's okay. I was like that two months ago." He reassured, but the German beside him had not been entirely agreeing, as a displeased look replaced his grin. "That's funny co'z I don't get it." He snorted and merely waved it off.
"Look, can't we just go out tomorrow night AFTER my interview, because this is like, my whole life in one interview. This is medical school we're talking about. I should have done this back when I was 21 but—" Antonio flailed his hands up in the air in sudden panic but Gilbert took no notice of it."
"First off, you're ONLY 25. You should have done it at 21? Dude, what are you? Asian? And second... wait, you're not really Asian, right?" Gilbert looked at his friend sceptically, which Antonio answered with a firm frown, a cross of his arms and slight shake of his head. "Okay... so. And second! No, we cannot go out tomorrow night because I've set this awesome shit and this is going down. You're a straight A student so you should have more faith in yourself and Antonio, this isn't just any birthday, this is THE birthday, your 25th birthday!" In an instant, Gilbert was already on his feet, pacing back and forth around any space that didn't have any trace of paper or trash around. "Mon dieu, here we go..." Francis muttered, dropping his head and looking at Antonio apologetically. Once Gilbert had started, there was no stopping him.
"Today, you become a man!" the German continued.
"I was already a man on my 21st birthday."
"This is the day when you get to tell every bouncer who ever stopped you that 'okay, I get it, I may look like a 9-year-old Chinese girl—'" Both Francis and Antonio suddenly sat straight up and looked at each other with furrowed eyebrows.
"What the fu—" Francis continued to mutter. "Do I really look like a 9-year-old Chinese girl?" Antonio asked in a whisper, leaning closer to Francis, who merely gave the Spaniard a disbelieving look, before running a hand through his golden locks. Still, despite that, the two found themselves still listening to Gilbert's little dramatic speech. For some reason, despite the albino rambling on and on about useless things, his speeches were still entertaining, making wild gestures and even wilder analogies that made no sense at all.
"—But guess what, today is your 25th fucking birthday, so you could just tell him to step aside and let the man through." Gilbert finished, baring his canines ferociously like a wild dog threatening someone. Still somehow managing a small smile, Antonio shook his head. "This is a secret rite of passage. If we were in Africa, you'd have to leave the village till you kill a bear!"
"Um… I don't think that's true." Francis muttered.
"There're no bears in Africa?
"Guys, I don't think that's the point." Antonio sighed. Francis wasn't really helping Gilbert drop the subject. Not that there was anything the French could do to convince the German. Antonio had begun to wonder why he even tried to argue in the first place, knowing the albino's stubbornness. All that stress must have made him forget about that part of Gilbert's personality.
"You know, it's like when Eskimos kill their first penguin!" Gilbert exclaimed again, silencing Antonio's thoughts. "Again, I don't think that's true Gil. Seriously, read a book. And what's up with you and killing animals? Animals should also be given love and care and love! I wouldn't be surprised if one of these days you get in trouble with the animal rights groups." Francis said, crossing his arms and leaning back against the sofa he sat on.
"Anyway, the point is, birthday boy, in this country, your awesome best friends take you out to fuck you with alcohol! We're gonna fuck you with alcohol!" Gilbert suddenly banged his fists on the coffee table in front of the Spaniard, causing him to jolt backward in surprise. "Ugh you have not been listening to Toni have you? And that doesn't sound really great. You make it sound so awkward." Francis rubbed his temples in annoyance, something Antonio could sympathize with.
"Gil, mi amigo, all those things that you mentioned, I've been doing since I was 21. What's the point of doing all that and announcing that I'm a man when I've been one for four years now?"
"You've killed a bear and a penguin? Daaamn, Toni. You should get arrested for that! This is why bears and penguins are gonna be extinct in a few years? Where are those animal rights groups?" Gilbert looked horrified and all Francis could do was stifle a laugh as he slumped back in his seat.
"Anyway, mein guter Freund, 25 is actually the real age where you really enjoy yourself! People say you get to be a man at 21 but they don't start looking at you like one till you're 25! Plus life gets harder after 25 so you should celebrate as hard as you can man! Y'know, enjoy all the awesome shit and be awesome like yours truly! You got an awesome excuse! You're 25! And besides, if we don't do this tonight, I'll do this all night!" Gilbert immediately pulls out the air horn and quickly sent Antonio's neighbours banging on his front door after three loud blows.
"Ay Dios mio! Okay, okay! Just stop it with the honking! I'll get kicked out if you don't stop! Just promise me that I'll just be having one drink. Just one, okay?" Antonio asked, looking somewhat desperate, eyes fleeting over to Francis for reassurance. Francis, however, wasn't too sure of it himself, so he mainly just shook his head apologetically before turning towards Gilbert, who had his trademark grin on his face again.
"Ja, ja, sure. Just one beer. Just one. Nothing's gonna happen to you tonight Toni. Francis and I'll take care of you. You're our little baby." He chuckled. "But y'know what, it's still early, so we got tons of time to prepare for this awesome night, eh?"
Despite what Gilbert had said, Antonio had a bad feeling in his stomach that he couldn't brush off. It wasn't that he didn't trust Gilbert, of course. It's just that although he might not get drunk that night with just one drink, he couldn't say the same for Gilbert. After all, his German friend was probably the heaviest drinker he'd ever seen in his entire life. And that thought didn't really help soothe his fears though. Oh well. It's just one drink. For being 25.
However, a few hours from now, Antonio would be wishing that he shouldn't have come, or better yet, he shouldn't have answered the door when they nearly crushed his doorbell and he should've just jump out of the window of his apartment, despite his unit being on the third floor of the building. At least all he would be getting is a broken arm or a broken leg instead of a hell load of trouble. Could've been 25 and over.
