Hello everyone! This is a NedCan fanfiction. It is in an alternate universe were they are not nations, but humans. This is my first Hetalia fanfiction, so I am hoping it will be decent enough! Positive feedback and constructive criticism, even if harsh, are welcome and will most likely means faster updates. I shoot to put up a chapter each week, and they will most likely be way longer than this one since this chapter is basically more of an introduction to the story than an actual chapter. Tell me what you think! I am warning you now, this story will contain things such as adult language, use of recreational drugs, a bit of sex, light violence, all that good stuff. If you aren't fond of such things, I suggest you either stomach it or not read. Hetalia and the characters in this story belong to Hidekaz Himaruya!

Thanks to my friend Ann I decided to write this little story! Her tumblr is: somewhere-in-that-universe. tumblr. com. Go check her out!

Also, if any Dutch or Canadian readers come across this story, I would love for you to personally message me for the sake of slang, translations, foods, things that could make all the difference in giving Lars and Matt more reliable characteristics! If I can get official things such as that, I am more than willing to go back and edit.

Chapter One

Lars bit down on the mouth piece of his pipe, glowering at the person seated across from himself. The air hung heavy with a silence, nothing more than the ticking of a clock every few moments. He inhaled, breathing out but a second later, a cloud of smoke flowing into the air. He let out a hum of consideration, watching the man at the opposite end of the table shift under his gaze. Lars was fully aware how easy it was to make someone uncomfortable by simply staring, but it was simply his way of observation. How he determined whether or not he liked them. Matthew Williams. He took a few more puffs, finally withdrawing the tobacco pipe away from his lips with a heavy sigh. The entire time he had been smoking, despite the fact he had been careful not to breath in the others general direction, Matthew had looked ready to cough but was managing to hold it down.

"Alright," he finally agreed, the single, gruffly spoken word enough to make Matthew's head snap up in attention. Two weeks ago, Lars had decided to sign up for a website to advertise that he was searching for a roommate. Someone to fill an empty room in his apartment. It was for the sake of saving a few extra bucks. Living in The Netherlands, he had suspected a fellow Dutchman, perhaps even a German or a Belgian from the neighboring countries. Instead, his only response had been a Canadian who spoke Lars's native tongue rather poorly. Most likely the only reason he got along so well was because so many people in the area spoke English. Being that he had been the only one whom applied, however, Lars decided to give it a try. Matthew seemed calm, timid. Surely they could get along decently enough. Lars would make sure to keep contact to a minimum, anyway. Those were his hopes- that Matthew would stay out of his business and Lars in return would do the same.

Matthew sat up straighter in his chair, lips turning up into a smile. "Really? So it's a deal then?" he asked. Lars's eyebrow twitched in a sort of mild agitation. Honestly, it was as if Matthew had not understood that he had said 'yes' to him moving in. "That's great, I-" Lars lifted a hand, showing his palm to silence him.

"Pay your part of the rent on time, stay out of my room, and make sure your dog doesn't eat my rabbit. Then we'll have no problems," he stated factually, taking in more smoke from his pipe. Matthew frowned, but was not bothering to put up an argument, much to Lars's satisfaction. He believed the ground rules were basic enough. There was no need to fight about personal barriers. "I suspect you have someone to help you move in?" he asked.

Matthew ringed his hands together, still finding himself rather unnerved under Lars's unwavering gaze. "Yes, my brother, when do I-"

His sentence was cut off once again by Lars. "Tomorrow," he demanded, standing from his own seat. Matthew looked up at him, a bit shocked. Why so soon? He had suspected another week or at least a few days. He did already have his things packed. Matthew stood as well, offering out a hand, which Lars coldly rejected. "I will see you tomorrow." Like that, Lars stepped around and out of sight into his bedroom, leaving behind a confused Matthew. He was a busy man, and the last thing he wished to do was dawdle around with the other more than he would have to.

000

"Mattie, come on! My back hurts! And I'm hungry!"

"You ate two burgers before we came here! The couch is the last thing, anyway."

"You don't understand. I'm going to die!"

Lars groaned, his pipe hanging from the side of his mouth, dipping the bristles of his paintbrush into a small paint. His mouth constantly opened and closed, taking in the smoke, enjoying the flavor, and blowing it out. For the past two hours, it had been nothing but constant bickering from Matthew and a boy who's name he picked up to be Alfred. It was driving Lars near insane. Had it been a weekday, he would have already snapped. However, Lars was more tolerant on the weekends, so long as he had no work. That did not mean his temper at the moment was not running short. He was use to silence, especially on a clear day with no rain. He had thought to use it like any other, spreading paint onto a canvas. He had drawn on it, first. A light pencil sketch barely outlined a young woman's face, wind blowing her hair every which way. The only color so far was half the girl's face, her skin a light shade of brown. Working with oil paints was frustrating enough, and when Lars heard a loud clash outside his door, he finally decided it was time to put his work on pause.

Lars made sure to thoroughly rinse the brush before placing it to the side, setting his feet on his floor. The rabbit curled on his pillow asleep barely shifted. He was dressed in nothing more than boxers and an old t-shirt, but Lars could hardly care about his attire. His hair was spiked, that was what he cared about. He needed a fresh cup of coffee and wanted to know how much longer this noise would last. Lars was quick to suck down the last of his pipe, setting that to the side as well. Grabbing his mug, the liquid no longer steaming, he opened his door and stepped out, nearly bumping straight into one of the others currently occupying the apartment.

The blond with spectacles let out a surprised shriek, dropping the couch he had just picked up once again. Guessing this was Alfred, Lars narrowed his eyes. Matthew let out a light laugh, setting his side of the love seat down and falling into the cushions. "Hey Lars!" he greeted, causing said man to look Matthew's way, closing his door. He grunted in response, stepping around a still panting Alfred and into the kitchen conjoined with the living room.

Lars dumped what little coffee was left in his mug into the sink, rinsing it out with water. He grabbed the pot's handle, pouring himself a fresh cup of coffee before putting it back away. He scooped a few spoonfuls too many of sugar into his drink, stirring the contents together. Once he had his fix, Lars walked back into the living room, watching as the two brothers struggled to fit the couch through the door frame of Matthew's new room. It was entertaining, really. Lars took a sip of his coffee, watching as they turned it every which way in order to force it to fit. Curious, Lars filed in once they managed to finally get it in, glancing around the once empty area. He had been using it as an art room before but decided to put it to better use. He glanced around, his nose scrunching in immediate distaste at the disorganization. The boxes weren't even stacked against the wall, the pieces that made a bed when put together were in a heap, and the desk was carelessly pushed into a corner.

"Can I help you Lars?" a voice suddenly spoke up, one he was already identifying as Matthew's.

Now that he had been caught looking in, Lars tried to sink back behind the doorway, out of view with a small, "No," in response. A second later, he peeked back in, earning confused stares from the males inside trying to put the bed frame together. "I'm working. Be a little more quite," he suggested, disappearing again before either could question him.

With that, Lars simply returned to his painting, sitting down on the edge of his bed with a sigh. Green eyes flickered over the unfinished painting, one done so delicately by such a rugged man. He took another sip of his coffee before setting it on his bedside table. He grabbed his pie, continuing to look over his work as he cleaned out his pipe. Lars drank some more coffee. By the time he remembered it again, it would be cold, and Lars would not drink it. Once again picking up his paint brush, he dipped it into a small container of paint, bringing it to the canvas.