If there was one thing that most Germans could proudly claim, it would be their ability to drink and hold their liquors.
Beer usually being the poison of choice.
Thus, it was due to this reason that Gilbert believed himself hours from his untimely demise. He had only indulged in three beers the night previous...and one shot. Yet here he was missing his shirt, shoes, and hugging the porcelain throne making noises that crossed between a trapped puppy and a moose during mating season. Every now and then, human-like sounds would escape in the form of Germanic curses and English complaints.
"Toilet…Warum? What did I ever do?" He moaned, his tone obviously expecting a response.
When the toilet stubbornly refused to answer, Gilbert groaned into the bowl before leaning back flat against the floor, eyes closed to avoid staring straight into the light. Why the hell had he turned it on anyway?
Shifting until he found a comfortable position, Gilbert began to do what anyone would do in his situation. He mentally retraced his steps. He started at the bar, hitting on Matthew, rejection…erm consensual dismissal, bumping into Roderich, going to get laid, then….then….fuck. The trail turned cold once he got to the point of exiting the taxi. Everything previous had been crystal clear but as soon as he stepped out of the car, things went black and…and ….thinking was not good for hangovers. At least he had woken up inside the apartment. Gilbert had yet to check for any structural or bodily damage as he had rushed to his current position as soon as he could consciously move his body.
Damn. Three beers. Only. Something was seriously wrong with the world. Next thing you know, pigs would fly, Ludwig would be dancing ballet, and Francis would win a fight… Terrifying.
A creak caused him to crack open one near-magenta (they are red, gott verdammt!) eye to peer at the bathroom door-way. In the blurred haze, he could see a black nose nudging at the small opening from where he neglected to close it all the way. With a little effort, the door was soon pushed open enough for a white pile of fur to wriggle in. Four months and counting, the Pyrenees pup seemed larger than usual as it glowered down at him. Dark eyes seemed to stare expectantly at the man.
"Nein, Kuma." Gilbert whimpered out as he slung an arm over his eyes to block out more light and that adorable begging face. The cool linoleum against his back soon garnered all of his affections.
This was apparently an unacceptable response as he was soon peppered in what Matthew called 'kisses'. Whatever kinks the blond had was up to him, but to Gilbert, these were anything but. It was nothing short of facial molestation by the mouth organ of an oversized puppy. The albino man swung many ways…but not that way.
Attempting to avoid the assault, Gilbert rolled facedown, but the puppy found that as an invitation to saunter up and lay atop the foolish human who dared not feed him. That empathetic feeling that pets were supposed to have for those around them was practically non-existent when it came between these two.
"I'm going to give you to that Korean downstairs…" Gilbert mumbled through squished cheeks yet made no motion to move. He hissed in pain when the animal brushed against the back of his head. More jumping and kneeding and yet the German managed to hold fast.
He refused to get off this floor today. Nothing short of a Russian invasion would work.
Knock Knock Knock.
…or that.
Kuma dashed out of the room with a high pitched bark. The pale man cursed and pretended it never happened. Never. Fucking. Happened.
.knock
There was no mistaking it that time. Whomever it was, they had a strong arm. The sound reverberated through the apartment, clearly making its way into the bedroom bathroom. The sound had irritated someone else too. A shrill chirp could be heard elsewhere in the apartment.
Fuck.
Maybe it was Fed-Ex. He hadn't ordered anything so it must have been for Matthew. In other words, they could leave it outside and someone would pick it up sooner or later. Yup. That sounded like a good plan to-
BANG!
"GOTT DAMNIT!" Gilbert bellowed as he shot up in reaction to the noise. Perhaps a little too quickly. The German wobbled on his feet, using the door frame to keep him from greeting the floor with his face.
Mumbling death threats and obscene accusations about parental linage involving goats, Gilbert stumbled his way into the main room, unwillingly noting that the sun was well established in the sky. Wonderful rays of burning star piss filtered through the large bay window that a certain Canadian refused to curtain because 'it's a nice view, Gilbert.' His eyes refused to open properly, remaining pressed into thin slits.
Kuma was nipping at the bit to get on the other side of the door, pacing and yipping at every little sound. Gilbert wanted nothing more than to punt the noise-box across the border.
The puppy wasn't the only one though. Hanging from the ceiling was a bronze cage containing a frantic canary. Every yip was accompanied by panicked flapping and what he guessed was they bird's way of telling the canine to kindly fuck off.
"You're lucky you are cute." He grumbled as he simply nudged the puppy away with his socked foot. Another bang resounded from the other side just as he was about to turn the lock.
"Shut up…I'm opening the damned-…Matthew? Fick Dich! Use your key!" He continued ranting as he quickly turned heel to return to his spot on the bathroom floor. As he stomped off, he ignored the fact that Kuma never stopped barking as per usual. Gilbert did, however, do an about face when a voice he didn't recognize boomed out.
"Who the hell are you?" It demanded.
Well, he was awake now. Unusual eyes snapped open and took a good hard look at the man in the doorway.
White male, blond hair, glasses, early twenties, inching close to six foot even. Right. Now for the difference. Slight tan, shorter hair with some freaky little cowlick, different frames with primary blue eyes, thicker upper body….
Conclusion: Not Matthew.
"Wer zum Teufel bist du?" Gilbert mirrored in his native tongue.
Matthew was used to many thing. Having lived with Gilbert for so long, one learned to cope with sporadic house parties, furniture rearrangements, and ignoring others walk of shame. However, this was a new one.
He should have known after having Kumamanjo meet him at the elevator doors that something was up.
The apartment door was wide open and…God help him if Gilbert wasn't watching one of those old war movies he liked so much.
No such luck.
Gilbert currently had someone in a nearly flawless arm-bar maneuver.
Someone was flailing around under the albino.
Gilbert was shouting what he guessed were questions…who knew? It was in German and just sounded as if he were directing a platoon in battle.
Someone was responding in kind. Matthew found himself nodding along with the outbursts. No. Gilbert was not a Nazi. Yes. He was a fucking prick. No. He needed Gilbert to pay this month's rent, killing him was not an option.
As Matthew made to make a snarky remark as to if this was some kind of fore-play he should be aware of, the stranger managed to get the German to loosen his grip a little, slipping from his grasp.
Oh well…fuck
For a moment, the Canadian wondered if anyone would notice if he went in to the bar early to practice mixing drinks…and personally testing them…for science and such.
However, his plans for escape were interrupted by a loud shout of his name.
Coming back down to the present, he saw the blond toss Gilbert to the side and practically crawl over to him.
"Alfred." He tried to sound pleasant…he really did.
If the strain was heard, there was no reaction. Instead, he receive a huge smile which almost negated the fact that he was being clambered up.
"Matt! It's been too long you really should visit me more, you've gotten so big dude!" Alfred exclaimed in a single breath as he enveloped Matthew in a crushing hug.
"Yea..." Matthew gasped out a sort of answer, as he tried peeking over his broad shoulder to check on his roommate. Gilbert had been thrown a bit hard.
The albino had half his face cradled in one hand. The eye that was exposed looked dazed by the display in front of him.
Matthew shot him a pained grin. Then he noticed something.
"Gilbert. Your eyes are red."
"Yea…usually." Gilbert shot back, subconsciously narrowing his eyes to hide the bloodshot evidence.
Before Matthew could argue, he felt the chest he was pressed into rumble.
"Matthew. I won't allow this!"
"Al..wh-"
The Canadian was suddenly shoved out and held at arm's length. Blue eyes bore into his own, uninhibited by the spectacles that now lay discarded on the floor.
"Matthew. I know you are trying to prove a point, but isn't this a bit..extreme?" Alfred gave a completely unconcealed glance in the direction of a certain albino who had given up on everything for the time being and crawled to drape himself over the couch.
"Wha-"
"I mean, I can see you would want to sexperiment after everything that happened, but I didn't expect you to actually switch sides!"
Matthew just stared at him, completely confused. Perhaps the amount of Mcdonalds he'd consumed had finally broken him. He had read a study about that once. What the hell –Oh wait.
"Gilbert" Matthew deadpanned. "Did you say you were my 'one-night-stand-turned-booty-call'?" He asked with the confidence of someone with experience.
"No" The German groaned from the couch. Matthew was about to spout something else before Gilbert continued. "I told him I was too good for relationships and I was "the-most-awesome-fuck-that-had-you-seeing-stars-a nd-"
"I get it…" Matthew sighed, knocking Alfred's hands from his shoulders. Well, that explained why they had been in such a position when he walked in. He could already see Alfred's face going red with every word Gilbert said, that cheeky grin of his plastered across his face. A few seconds of silence. Then all Hell probably broke loose. Yup. He needed that drink now.
"You see, Matt! This relationship is destructive and I don't approve and..and…" Alfred let his argument die as mauve eyes gave him a pointed look. It screamed hypocrite. He chose to ignore it for the most part, but shut his mouth on the subject.
"Alfred." Matthew started patiently. "Gilbert is very dear friend of mine. We have been friends for a while and are currently roommates." He announced, being sure to clarify the situation. "Nothing has or will happen between us as that would compromise our friendship."
"But what about that one time-"
"Gilbert!" Matthew growled out with a hint of sugar on his tongue. His voice didn't raise, but the other two flinched simultaneously at the tone. Gilbert gave a nervous breathy laugh while Alfred stared wide eyed at this side of Matthew he was unused to.
There was a tick of complete silence before Kumajirou meandered over to sit beneath the birdcage, sending a hungry glare up to the fluttering chick.
Sighing, Matthew leaned against the door and closed it with a light click. He didn't need his neighbors snooping in on their business.
Especially that odd Greek guy from three doors down.
Or that loud family from Scandinavia…
Or….damn, they really needed to find a new place to live.
"So…who's the creep who looks like you?" Gilbert asked, bringing Matthew from his mental house hunt. The statement caused the blond to furl his brow though.
"This is-"
"I'm Alfred." He announced as if the entire world knew his name. Matthew should have been surprised at the arrogance, but he wasn't. It was only going to be a pissing contest from here.
"Who…" Gilbert sported an unimpressed look.
Alfred on the other hand looked downright heartbroken.
"What?!" He turned to Matthew. "You don't talk about me? Your amazing brother who would do anything for you and loves you and…and…I helped Arthur knit you a sweater for Christmas!"
There was a hissing laugh "That's where that piece of-" Gilbert stopped short at a glare from Matthew. "I mean…Wait. You have a brother?!" Alfred's ranting became wails of despair at the question.
"Two actually. I told you Alfred was coming last night…at work."
Gilbert flinched. No way was he admitting that he, of all people, blacked out. "Refresh my memory. You know I had a wild night and-"
"See! This cheating German Nazi is bad for you! All he's doing is-"
"Hey! I'm Prussian arschloch!" Gilbert exclaimed, more for arguments sake than anything.
Matthew dug the heels of his hands into his eyes counting back from ten. "No one listens. Why won't they just listen?" He murmured as the two of them began to once again bicker over the status of Matthew's personal choices. He was ready to give up completely when something caught his eye. "Gilbert….is that…blood?"
"…Huh?"
After nearly an hour of trying to wheedle information from his brother, all Matthew got were accusations of Gilbert being a murdering gangbanger. Matthew assured and reassured his brother that the German was literally too white to be respected in the mean streets of Detroit. Also, he was far too much of a wimp, which was proved when he attempted to wrap Gilberts head. The scratch was just behind his left ear, barely small enough to not require stitches…or so Matt figured. He was a business man, not pre-med. Still, Gilbert howled and thrashed when Matthew brushed over the accosted area. Pouring rubbing alcohol directly to the wound might have caused that too. Who knows? When asked how he had injured himself, Gilbert went off on random tangents about stupid questions and how unawesome it was to be nosey. The fact that it took all of them so long to even notice spoke volumes for the real severity of the injury. It had only started bleeding again due to the wrestling match. However, once it was pointed out, Gilbert was suddenly demanding compensation from the broader twin. Calling him various names. Only to be shushed by a sharp tug to his nape hairs by Matthew.
When that was out of the way, Matthew could only get a continual stream of variations of 'I'm hungry'…in both English and Spanish. Then in German.
Also a few unneeded retorts from Gilbert. Mostly involving regions unsavory for daytime conversation. The albino had also managed to pick himself up long enough to find a pair of dark sunglasses. Ego be damned. If they found out, more power to them. He just really wanted the light to shut up.
Anyway, the aforementioned Canadian was now angrily banging dishes unnecessarily as he worked to make a gourmet dinner of Kraft for the two freelo - people in the living room. Gilbert winced at every little sound, but tried to save what scraps of pride he had remaining. Matthew knew. Oh he knew. Passive-Aggressive little shit.
Then there was the look-alike that was giving him the stare down.
"Was?" He asked.
"I don't know if I like you, Kraut." Gilbert was bit taken aback by the change in demeanor.
"How can you not like the awesome that is I?" He cackled.
Alfred was unamused. Gilbert just repositioned his glasses and lounged, ignoring the sick feeling he got when Kuma decided he needed to jump up and share the couch too.
"He's acting weird because of you." Alfred leaned forward, quickly continuing, not allowing the other to defend himself. Gilbert cocked his head questioningly. Was it really that bad that Matthew was less of a girly-man and more…awesome. "Are you seriously trying to get into Matt's pants?" Alfred hissed.
Gilbert almost wanted to applaud this guy's gay-dar. It was spot on for sure. However, his reasoning was wrong. Perhaps if he had come a few years earlier, he would have been right. When Matthew was a shy little freshman with just a little bit of bite. Oh how he had tried then. Gilbert quickly learned that when a Canadian says 'No, sorry, I am straight', it is not an open invitation to try and change his sexuality. Hockey sticks were made for brute force after all.
But Alfred didn't know that minute detail.
"And if I am?" The German snuggled into the couch, his entire posture as smug as he could be with a fluffy puppy laying on his naked stomach. The other man was far too easy to rile and was straightforward. Unlike his roommate who managed to send you scathing remarks that didn't make sense until you were alone in the shower, suddenly crying as your reevaluate your life choices. Not that he would know. Point being. Picking on the brasher twin was much safer on the psyche if not the body. Kid had a mean kick on him.
"Don't." The blond growled out with a tone that surprised the albino. The seriousness in those eyes was uncharacteristic of what he had seen so far. Was he one of those choir boys that believed in the 'sanctity' of marriage and all that whatnot? Not that cursing and attacking strangers in their own homes was very saintly, but they had been known to have varying interpretations depending on the situation. "He doesn't need that kind of attention."
Gilbert was about to retort that statement when the man in question walked in carrying two steaming bowls of yellow noodles.
"Dinner is served." He said, plopping them down unceremoniously. With on last glance at the albino, Alfred's smile came back ten-fold as he quickly reached for the food.
Only to be stopped by the stab of a fork.
"Matt!" He cried as he cradled his hand in fear after the close call. Gilbert was a bit surprised as well. He eyed his serving like it would bite him. Not that he was all that scared or anything. He just reached for his food a bit more carefully than normal.
When nothing happened, he smiled triumphantly and began the process he called eating. His brother would call it disgraceful.
"Why are you here a day early?" Matthew asked, ignoring the smacking coming from the animal he called a friend. He was used to that. In fact, he knew the German could eat with impeccable manners if he wanted. Gilbert was just doing it to annoy him. And it was working.
When Alfred didn't immediately answer, he pressed him with a raised brow. He was sick of the evasion. He didn't get more than a brief heads up through text. He wanted all the little details of his brother's surprise visit.
Alfred chuckled nervously and shrugged. "You know me, Matt." That obviously wasn't good enough. He sighed. "I was in Beijing and the time difference and all…You know it's technically tomorrow there now!" His words were punctuated with excited arm movements.
Matthew looked a bit disbelieving. "…and when do you leave."
Alfred paused, the information obviously slipping from his mind. "Umm well…." He reached back and pulled a well-protected phone from his pocket. Holding the screen far then close, Alfred squinted as he read off whatever page he had pulled up. "The first of July…or so." He announced with the sweetest grin he could muster.
"Alfred…" Matthew chided as he stood up. He had seen his brother's glasses somewhere. "You realize it's the sixth of June right?" He received an enthusiastic head nod. A full month. With his brother in the same town.
Someone shoot him. Please
Well, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. After all, they didn't really get to see each other much and it wasn't like it was long-term…..was it.
"Umm…Why are you in Detroit anyway?" Matthew asked cautiously, bending over to pick up the once-missing glasses.
Alfred's grin wavered a bit. "Sightseeing?" He tried.
"In Detroit?" The Canadian wasn't buying it. He laid the spectacles on the coffee table.
Alfred began grasping at mental straws, but the pause was more than enough to set off warning bells.
Gilbert, on the other hand, had paused his grotesque sounds and was staring without shame, fork hanging from his mouth.
That phone was just released last week. Quite the price tag for a top shelf electronic if he remembered correctly. He had told Matthew that 'one day..one fucking day'. And Matthew had just rolled his eyes.
His gaze dropped and before a hand enveloped them, he noticed something. The all too well known symbol including the twelfth and twenty-second letter of the English alphabet. Kind of hard to miss with the huge gold etching along the side.
Not that he was snooping.
These were just important things.
You know… things that barely-hanging-on-architects-who-need-to-share-an- apartment notice quite easily. His unusual eyes were watching with rapt attention behind the safety of the shades.
Oblivious of Gilbert's investigation, Alfred finally managed to babble out enough nonsense about the historic auto industry and his room at Atheneum that Matthew let the question slide.
"Now…when does my bro have classes?"
"I already graduated…"
"WHAT WHEN?!"
"…."
It was going to be a long month.
But at least it was only a month.
...and chapter done...
Note to self: Deadline when you are about to move are a bad idea.
I wrote this almost two weeks ago. Lost it twice moved. Didn't have internet till this weekend. 80% of this was written in a state of inebriation, then edited the next morning. Can you spot the point where I gave up completely (Hint: It was after the second word)
Anywho. For those who give a damn. I set up a Tumblr so people can hassle me when I forget to write (because I don't forget to Tumblr...ever)