Characters: One-sided RussiaxCanada; (mutual?) AmericaxCanada; FrancexUK; GermanyxItaly; AustriaxHungary; various other characters (A free for all? O___O")
Rating: NC-17 for now, planned as a MA/R
Warnings: Graphic, with a hint of torture in the pain and pleasure department to some very unwilling victim. Also 1 Hetalia character death, even though I had planned so much more...
Summary: [AU] The Thymes Society is an exclusive club that is named after the river it's main branch is located by. It is a society that has numerous members in high ranking positions, mostly in Europe, but some around the world. Yet there are a handful of people in this exclusive club that don't seem to belong; mysterious beings who come and go as if on a whim, sometimes never returning at all. This is the story of one such boy, with curly blonde hair and glasses to boot, a marksman of sorts, an assassin.
.,x.{Start}.x,.
The breeze that blew in through the open window was stale and reminded him of sulfur, it made him lightheaded. The curtains concealing him whipped around him gently, as if acting to embrace him.
Matthew did not notice.
He was too intent on staring at the building across from him.
On the day that Alfred had visited him, he had asked Matthew of a favour. Apparently, he had just accepted a joint commission with Ludwig and Roderich to take out a small syndicate that was unlucky enough to be working in the same area as a larger one. Apparently they were interfering with the larger syndicates "sugar" business and needed to be dealt with.
The Canadian usually tried not to trifle in underground politics since they created more enemies then he would like, but Alfred had pleaded so insistantly, and this time it was less risky then one's he's done before.
He could recall the slightly hurt-definitely planned and intentional-look in the slightly older man's eyes, and it made him shudder how the man could use him with just a look. But he would get a favour in return, and Matthew had just the one in mind when his brother had finished asking him.
What mattered was he was here now; there was no turning back, since Ludwig would kill him for being unreliable, or Roderich would for ruining his perfect plan. They were both so disciplined Matthew had to wonder how they had partnerships with a few of the most energetic people ever.
He didn't understand why he was there, the three of them could've done the job without much difficulty-but Roderich, being the perfectionist that he was, suggested that Alfred recruit someone reliable to help do backup outside just in case 'someone' (being Alfred) got careless.
The bespectacled man had protested at first, saying (boasting) that he was the top soloist in the society for a reason. The brunette had snapped back just as quickly with, "It's because of that fact that I worry you'll become careless!"
So here he was, watching as Ludwig took out two men who had stepped outside for a joint. Killing them silently, cutting their throats as if they were pieces of paper being introduced to a pair of scissors. He had to have the man teach him how he did that one day.
The blond was a little jealous since the job they gave him was so boring, anyone could shoot from a distance, but Arthur had told him that not everyone had a 100% accuracy rate like Matthew did. It made the young man blush to just recall the words, but it made him a little depressed too to recall Arthur, seeing as how the man didn't really want to talk to him at this point.
Matthew shook the thought out of his head, he didn't want to remember the angry, disapproving look the Englishmen had given him a few days before. He tried to recall the roles each of them were doing this time around.
Ludwig's job was to make sure no one strayed too far from the building while Alfred and Roderich went to hunt down the straddling syndicate members in the city. Matthew's wasn't to start until the two got back, which was why he felt like he wasn't needed at the moment, the German's voice echoed in his head as he absently stroked Alfred's mauser, one of the few old fashioned arms that the American owned, definitely a gift from Arthur. "
"Make sure no one steps 5 meters away from the building when they get back." They being Alfred and Roderich.
His thoughts were suddenly interrupted when he heard the American's voice call for Ludwig and his attention over the ear piece.
"Me and Fredrich are nearby, ready for some wild fowl hunting, Mattie?"
"Fredrich and I, Alfred, Frederich and I," Matthew corrected the man, they both ignored the way the Austrian was scowling at how Alfred had used their real names, the British's grammar Nazi ways had been one of the few things that had rubbed off on him.
Alfred scoffed, "Whatever."
Matthew sighed a little at the reply, he watched as the three of them met up and trotted quickly to the side door, the only other entrance or exit to the building. Their plan was to just get in and decimate, that was Alfred's part of the plan, obviously. Roderich though, said that they should trick the cowards who ran into running into a trap. That trap was a sniper called Matthew, who would take out the ones with ran for the doors at the front of the building so they could concentrate on the stubborn ones inside the building.
"Are you ready?" The question was directed at him, Matthew hummed in acknowledgment as he lowered the gun barrel to point at the glass panels.
There was suddenly a lot of yelling being transmitted over to his side as he heard the large German slam down the side door. Then there were gunshots, lots and lots of gunshots from both sides accompanied with excited cursing from Alfred. He saw a few people heading towards the door, all he felt was the pressure of his finger on the trigger as he watched them crumple onto the ceramic tiles.
"Shit," the blond cursed lightly as he missed the temple of one of the men running towards the door and took off a chunk of his right ear instead. The man flew back and slammed into the tile, getting up and glancing back at the showdown in confusion. Thank god he was stupid, or he would've realized that he was knocked backwards from a force from the front and not the back, since the man just got back up, cradling his bleeding ear, and headed back towards the shattering glass panel doors. Matthew was pretty sure the man was just suffering from shock though.
He growled a little as Ludwig apprehended him for not concentrating, "I'm sorry, I'll take off my glasses now." His reply was a gruff approving sound.
Unlike Alfred who actually needed the damn things from being on the internet for so long, Matthew was forced to wear them to fix his over perfect eyesight. He had started complaining about headaches a few years ago and after going to a doctor or two, they had resolved the matter when he did the standard eye test. Apparently, his headaches were being caused by the over perfection of his eyes, they were picking up too much visual information and caused his brain to overload. Simple solution? Glasses.
He slipped the light thing off and into the lapels of his shirt and aimed again. This time, getting the man right in the middle of his frontal lobe.
.,x.{~}.x,.
The fighting slowly dwindled as the night went on.
The glass door has been totally demolished by now, giving Matthew a clearer view of the inside of building. He could see that the room had been divided into two, some bodies littered the middle of the room from the very beginning of the strife.
Alfred and the other two were hiding by the side door, behind some overturned tables. What was left of the syndicate was hiding behind some other tables and a few large crates that were seeping out a strange yellow-green powder, leaving themselves totally open to Matthew.
He didn't shoot them, it'd be over too fast for it to be fun was what Alfred had said, so he waited till someone was brave enough to look over to shoot off a chunk of his head.
After about two hours of this, the handful that were left surrendered, dropping their guns and getting up. They didn't even get a chance to talk before they were shot down.
The other three got up from their stiff positions behind the tables and stepped out of the building, Alfred gave him an affirmative when he asked if he should use the bazooka yet. When he saw that the three were at a minimally safe distance, Matthew picked up Ludwig's bazooka and heifted it onto his shoulder. Trust the German to get something like this for his impressive gun collection.
He slipped his glasses back on and aimed at their strategically planned spot. It was a gas pipe that ran the better part of the front wall, and the resulting explosion should be intense enough to engulf evidence of the people present. He aimed and shot, thrown back a little as the small, custom missile shot out of the cannon and straight towards it's destination.
He watched as the building exploded, a black smog quickly rolling up towards the skies. The smell of sulfur intensified, laced with a hint of burning flesh and rubble.
No survivors.
.,x.{~}.x,.
There was nothing on tv.
Matthew was bored.
For almost a week now, he heard nothing back from his target, a Giovanni Conti. He thought the man was into his type, which made him feel a little unappreciated and forgotten.
The phone rang, the boy immediately jolted up off the sofa at Romano's place and got it on the fourth ring, yelling a "Got it!" to his temporary roommate as he dashed forward.
Romano and him had bought the place together half a decade ago when Romano had begged the Canadian to help him get a place away from the course, Matthew agreed, seeing as how he was conveniently looking for a place in the area anyways. It was larger then his place in London and felt more "lived in", seeing as how Romano didn't take up jobs as much since he and Antonio got together.
And even though this place was supposed to be his sanctuary away from Antonio, the two men were here more then Antonio's actual home, but that was ok with Matthew, since they were both considerate enough to welcome him when he had arrived very suddenly on a Tuesday morning. Although he did end up waiting a while since Antonio was in the middle of his morning nap.
He fumbled with the phone a little as he skidded in front of it, "Hello?" he breathed (in Italian), the words rushing out like a slur.
"Is Mr. Williams there?"
"This is him, who's asking?"
The man answered with the targets name and told Matthew to come in before noon and hung up.
Matthew stood there for a few seconds, the conversation was a lot shorter then he expected. Romano, who was looking through the fridge at the time looked up at him.
"Got your job?"
Matthew blinked and looked up at the older man, noting the slightly worried look on the man's face as he replied, "Uh..yea," and proceeded to reach his brother.
.,x.{~}.x,.
Giovanni was a scrappy looking brat who Matthew found hard to believe was 6 years older then him.
The man had greasy looking brown hair that was combed back at some parts, but messy and feathery at others. He circled him like a hawk, eyeing him up and down, slowing down a little when he was behind him-which made the boy shudder in disgust.
The man finally faced him, a bit too close for comfort and asked if Matthew wanted to take up the position of his new bodyguard.
The Canadian answered reluctantly, trying to sound as much as a money desperate newb as possible.
Giovanni smiled, creepily, as he made to hug the young man. The blond flinched back a little before he stepped into the embrace, then pulled back again when he felt the man place his hands much too close to his ass.
"You need the money, don't you?" The man growled, as he held his grip. Matthew swallowed down his disgust as he made a small nod.
.,x.{~}.x,.
They had been inside finishing up some details before they finally had to leave for a meeting.
Matthew breathed out a sigh of relief as they headed outside and stepped towards the black Mercedes to open the door for his target.
Suddenly, Matthew tensed and jumped towards the man, tackling him down as a bullet whizzed past, uncomfortably close. The other bodyguards quickly had their guns out, pointed towards the general direction of the bullet as Matthew pulled himself off the fallen man.
They are rushed into the car, Matthew shoved in next to a swearing Giovanni as they screech away from the building.
The car was soon silent. Giovanni looked at him and spat a small, grateful thanks as he placed his hand on the boy's thigh.
The blond tried his best to ignored the man as he thought Alfred was aiming a bit too close for comfort.
.,x.{~}.x,.
Across from the car pulling away from the sidewalk was a 5 story building that looked uncomfortable next to the taller, more modernized buildings around it.
On the roof was a familiar bespectacled blond that was bent over a black guitar case that's hollow was nothing like a guitar.
Alfred was putting his custom Mauser away at record speeds as he growled under his breath, murmuring curses as he went.
Sure, he had gone along with Matthews plan to make the man trust him, but after seeing what the man had done to Matt in that office, he had aimed a lot closer then Matthew probably intended for him to aim.
Sure, he owed the younger boy a favour; sure, he said he'd do anything no matter what his emotions were telling him to; and sure, he promised not to kill Matthew's target on the premises that Matthew needed him for something else more confidential.
But he had not expected his younger brother to just go along with the man's whims to achieve whatever the hell he needed to.
He cried out in frustration as he got up, fists clenched as he kicked the nearby wall,"FUCK!"
Next time, he won't be as nice, no matter what Mattie told him.
.,x.{~}.x,.
Giovanni was disgusting to say the least, in the last week and a half that he's been working under him, they've been to at least two gay bars a day. Once in the afternoon, then once again much later at night.
Usually, other people's habits didn't annoy him as much, but the way that the man acted towards these people, and the attitude he had towards them was borderline animalistic.
He watched as he stood behind the man, as the Italian was fondling something out of view, forcing pained cries from his companion for the night. A surprisingly young boy with large, frightened eyes, much younger then what should be legal.
Matthew glared at the back of his head, but was a little delayed in hiding his expression when he caught the man watching him from the corner of his eye.
Giovanni suddenly got up and gestured for him to follow him to the washroom, staggering off in the direction of the staff rooms.
He didn't want to, but knew he had to. It was part of his job to accompany his 'boss' everywhere.
They headed towards the washroom and Matthew stepped in first to hold the door open for the man. There didn't seem to be anyone else inside the semi-classy washroom.
He stepped to the side as Giovanni walked past him towards the uranials at the far end, marching over at a brisk pace.
There was a weak trickling sound as Giovanni had unzipped the front of his pants.
Matthew waited.
The Italian finished his business and the Canadian offered him a paper towel as he washed his hands. The man didn't seem to intend to do anything. So it surprised him when Giovanni grabbed his hand in a painful, crushing hold when it looked like he was grabbing for the paper towel.
Before he could react, Giovanni had him up against the sink's counter, his dark eyes seemed steely in appearance as he crushed his lips into Matthew's.
Matthew tasted the strong alcohol in the man's mouth and it made him reel, he shoved him away,"Wha--what are you doing?!" He cried, as he made to wipe the man's spit off his lips.
Giovanni let out a dry,crooked laugh as he studied Matthew with an amused look on his face, "Don't lie to me, I saw you." He leaned back in and breathed into Matthew's ear, "You were jealous of that little boy..."
There was a loud bang as Matthew flinched backwards, hitting his head on the wall behind him.
The Italian let out another laugh, reaching out to stroke the boy's wound, caressing the scalp under his hair as he pulled him back towards him.
Matthew breathed in and out once before speaking in the calmest composure he could muster, "I think you're drunk, sir."
Giovanni paused, his eyes widened like a fish's. Then he growled as his eyes narrowed into slits, "and I think you'll be out of a job in the next few minutes if you don't do as I say."
All Matthew could think was, Shit, as Giovanni's hand ghosted over his and made to pull it lower-stopping it right in front of a small bulge at his pants.
"You know what to do."
The blond barely registered that he had nodded silently until he felt his fingers on the zipper, there was a long, agonizing sound as he pulled the damned thing down.
He looked down, trying to avoid eye contact with the drunk bastard as he hissed to "Hurry it up."
Matthew made no sound, as if making one would confirm that he was actually present. He placed a hand on the man's flabby chest and glided his hand down past his boxer's and gave an experimental squeeze.
His reply was a violent buck, Giovanni had suddenly lifted him off the floor and onto the counter, thrusting erratically into his fist before calming down enough to give out a breathy moan.
"Fuck..." the older man hissed, taking over Matthew's hand and making him pump him in time with his slow thrusts.
Matthew continued to stare down at the movements, refusing to look the man in the eye.
The thrusts soon reached a violent pinnacle, Giovanni was thrusting hard enough to flatten Matthew against the wall where he sat, his grip on Matthew's fisted hand tightening dangerously. Matthew swallowed a gag as the man's whole body leaned in closer and he felt something shoot out across his shirt, the offending article soon pulling out of his grip.
The boy looked down at his shirt, absentmindedly rubbing his hands clean on his now soiled shirt. A hand came out of no where and stopped him, grabbing his other hand in the process and he felt something being tied around them.
He snapped out of it and started struggling when he felt Giovanni embrace him, his hands traveling down his back and past his belt line.
"NO!" he screamed, flailing out with his legs and catching the Italian right in the gut, sending him backwards and into a stall door.
Unfortunately, the man caught himself mid-fall, grabbing onto the side panels of the stall and had pulled himself back up. He glared, there was a somewhat crazed look in his eyes.
Matthew hopped off the counter and raced for the door, slamming through, but was stopped immediately when two of his fellow bodyguards each grabbed him under the arm and dragged him kicking and screaming back into the washroom.
Giovanni was there, looking like the disgusting pig he was, grinning from ear to ear as he massaged his gut.
"What should we do with him, Boss?" Henchman 1 asked.
"Want us to teach the rookie a lesson?" That was Henchman 2, Matthew shuddered at the choice of words.
Giovanni didn't answer.
He felt thick fingers prodding at the sides of his mouth, he bit down on them. There was a yelp and the next thing he knew, he found himself on the floor with a quickly bruising eye.
"Don't damage him," the Italian commanded, bending down to wrench Matthew's face to him. "I think I'll work on him a little...besides," he added, "the boy's saved my life once now so he should consider this as compensation."
That last statement was directed at him, a warning.
The hand restraints were removed and Matthew was left there on the floor as the three men stepped out, he listened to the footsteps die down, he didn't move.
.,x.{TBC}.x,.
Yes, shoot me, the Italian guy's name is Giovanni...so typical 3"" I'm a lazy bum, sue me.
And yea...it's just gonna get worse 3"" Or better, for some of you uh...I can't say who cause it'll probably end up spoiling the story.
