Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. Only the plot.
!IMPORTANT!: Chapter one was edited. Please go back and read Francis' introduction. It may cause some confusion if you don't.
Memories In The Sun,
Chapter two.
Though the cracks of the navy curtains, sunshine peeked its way into the little room, brightening it up almost immediately. A ray of light rested upon a certain blonde's closed eyes, and he furrowed his eyebrows, face slightly contorted into a look of confusion.
An arm slowly made its way over the man's eyes, but it was to no avail; the man had already woken from the disturbance.
"Ughh." His free hand extended, touching the edges of the table. Feeling around it, the fingers slowly found the object they were looking for, and grabbed onto it firmly, though carefully.
As he perched his glasses on his eyes, Alfred checked the clock, and noticed that he had woken up late for the third time this week. His legs found their way to the side of the couch, and Alfred used his hands to slide himself off the couch to stand up.
"It's time for lunch." He announced happily, a glint coming into his eyes.
Scratching the back of his neck as he entered his kitchen, a yawn forced its way out of the American's mouth, causing tears to come to those azure eyes. "Hmm." Leaning over from the waist down, Alfred peered into the refrigerator before he caught sight of a few familiar brown circular lumps of meat.
He quickly snatched the patties up, turning around and closing the door with the heel of his foot. "Man I love hamburgers.~" He grinned joyously at the thought of his favorite food, setting the patties down onto the counter and heading to the cabinet. Well, his favorite food next to apple pie of course.
"Buns, buns, buns. . ." Murmuring quietly to himself, Alfred rummaged through the various cereals, syrups, toppings, chips, and bread before he grabbed the hamburger buns with a soft 'aha!'. While he was at it, he took out the ketchup as well, and closed the glass door with his shoulder, a 'thunk' emitting from the sudden closure.
"Time to make burgers." He carefully slipped out his electric griddle from the shelf above, and set it down.
"I love you, baby." Alfred cooed, stroking the outside of his griddle and proceeding to cook his hamburger.
No longer than 10 minutes later, Alfred came sauntering out the kitchen with his prized burger on a plastic plate.
Plopping down on the couch once more, Alfred took a hearty bite out of his burger, making a small noise of approval. Chewing, his mind wandered off to think, and found his mind reeling and twisting to form a picture of that beautiful green-eyed, sandy haired man.
Alfred sighed, and rolled over on his couch, taking another bite out of his hamburger. It had been a week since that encounter with Arthur, and much to his annoyance he couldn't forget it. Not only was he extremely sulky, but the pain hit him just as hard as that very same day.
He frowned down at his hamburger. "Stupid Arthur, making me waste a perfectly good hamburger." He cradled it in his arms, closing his eyes. "Oh, hamburger, you know how I feel don't you?" Flopping his free hand over the side of the couch, he rested the hamburger on his chest with his hands.
Abruptly, his phone rang, and blue eyes opened lazily. Sitting up, Alfred made sure to be careful of his hamburger friend, setting it on the table. "I wonder who it is. . ." Flipping the phone over, he checked the caller I.D.
Caller: Arthur Kirkland
His stomach flipped, and his heart squeezed painfully. Even though Arthur was. . . Was with Francis, those feelings that he'd kept for all these years never left. Not even when he knew perfectly well Arthur could no longer be his.
I guess this must be close to how Arthur felt. . . Abandoned, betrayed, hurt. But never over those feelings. Alfred frowned. It might just be just a fraction of how Arthur felt, though. He suddenly felt heavy with guilt.
Absent mindedly, he pressed the small 'talk' button, pressing the phone to his ear.
"Hello?" Even though Alfred knew perfectly well who it was, he did it out of habit, and besides, he just couldn't say that name out loud right now, just the thought of it alone made him feel all weird. He didn't like it one bit.
"Alfred? It's me, Arthur." The voice on the other line sounded so soft, so sweet, so right. The image of the man slowly whirled into mind once more, but Alfred pushed it harshly away. Godamnit, get a hold of yourself, Alfred!
"Ah, hey! Couldn't stay away from the Hero now that you've talked to him again, huh?" Alfred said smugly, although he was feeling anything but that on the inside. Arthur snorted on the other side of the line.
"You git. I was wondering if you'd like to head over here for a bit? Matthew and Francis will be over here as well." Arthur spoke over the line, and waited for Alfred's response.
At the mention of his brother, Alfred grinned sincerely. It had been what, two years since they've last seen each other? He couldn't wait to tease his little bro again.
Of course, though, his mood immediately soured once that name was spoken. He'd taken a huge disliking to the Frenchman. Although he sometimes felt a bit guilty and knew that he was just being childish, the fact that he was Arthur's fian-fucking-cé was reason enough to dislike him.
He weighed his options careful. If he went, he would be able to see Matty again and have some fun, and he'd be able to talk to Arthur. But he'd have to endure that French bastard near Arthur. If he didn't go, well, he'd miss out on everything he'd like but also what he didn't.
Uhhh. I hate thinking. Alfred frowned. It was just so boring and his head hurt when he thought to much. He'd rather act than think. Really, who in their right minds would want to do that?
"Alfred, are you still there?" Arthur's voice sounded slightly concerned and worried, and Alfred blinked, snapping out of his thoughts.
"Wha-Oh. Uhhh," Alfred cursed under his breath, and nibbled his hamburger. Finally, he rolled his eyes, setting down his burger once more. "Alright, I'll go."
"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow then. Head over here at 5, and I mean p.m., you idiot." Alfred swore he could see Arthur smiling, so despite himself, he smiled as well.
"Yeah, I know Iggy. Later." Ending the call, Alfred set the phone down, and all was quiet for a few moments.
Alfred sat up and finished off his hamburger, not a thought in his mind. He stood up and padded into his room quietly, picking up his hamburger plushie, Meaty-Matty - or M.M. for short. And yes, it was named after his brother. - and laying down on the bed, squirming into the covers.
"Being the Hero is awesome, but god there's so much to do." Sighing, Alfred smiled. "Sometimes I feel as if you're the only one who understands me." Alfred picked up his hamburger plushie/pillow/thing and snuggled with it, eventually fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
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Ring!
Ring!
Ring!
The covers shifted for a few moments, before they flew up, and a figure emerged, groaning.
"Uhh. . ." Still half asleep, Alfred held tightly to Meaty Matty as he exited his room, the cold tiles making him skip more than walk to the phone.
"'Ello?" Alfred slurred. He heard an exasperated sigh over the phone.
"Damn it, I just knew you'd be asleep. You should be glad I called you! You're supposed to be coming over here in two hours, so get ready and be there then. If you're not, I swear. . .!" Arthur's voice rose, his sentence hanging in a threat.
Alfred awoke fully, and he grinned even though Arthur couldn't see it.
"I would have woken up by myself! Though I appreciate you thinking of the Hero." Alfred grinned coyly.
Arthur sighed over the line, a slight crackling being heard due to the close proximity of the mouth and the air exhaling into the phone. "You bloody idiot, you're not even supposed to be sleeping at this time of day."
Pouting, Alfred shook his head, "No! I was taking a, what does Feliciano call them again?"
"Siesta?"
"Yeah! I was taking a siesta! Jeez, Arthur. Don't you know these things?"
"Sod off, Alfred. Just be here you damn wanker." With that, Arthur hung up, a click proving the fact.
Alfred placed the phone back on the table and walked into the bathroom, pulling off his shirt and pants and heading into the shower.
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As Alfred arrived at Arthur's house, he rang the doorbell, and to his amusement heard Arthur yelling through the walls.
"You bloody--Let go of me! I need to answer the door!" After a few minutes of shuffling, yelling, and crashes, a slightly disheveled Arthur opened the door, trying his best to smile despite how red his face was.
Although some people would think of Arthur's current appearance comical, Alfred thought it was absolutely beautiful.
"Hey Iggy!" Alfred exclaimed, holding up a hand in greeting.
"Hello, Alfred. Please, come in." Arthur's voice sounded a bit breathless, and albeit Alfred knew with a painful heart that Arthur was still taken, he couldn't help but imagine what else would make the Briton breathless and panting, red in the face, with those beautiful green eyes peering up at him. . .
Suddenly, out of nowhere Francis appeared, hanging his arm around Arthur's shoulders. This in turn made the Briton turn redder, and he tried to push the Frenchman away.
"F-Francis! I told you, we have guests!" Arthur shouted to no avail as the Frenchman merely nuzzled him in the neck, and was he purring!?
Tearing his eyes away from the scene, Alfred looked around, trying to focus his attention on anything except the two in front of him. How much would they torture a man?
Lady luck pulled out for him soon, though, for he soon caught sight of a familiar blonde curl. Grinning, Alfred stepped away from the couple, much to Arthur's dismay as Francis furthered his attack.
"Hey, Mattie!" Alfred slung his arm around his brother's neck, and grinned at him. Slowly, the owner's head turned around as amethyst eyes met blue, and widened for a moment.
"E-eh? Oh, Alfred!" His younger brother blushed a bit, not having expected to be recognized so soon. Then again, it was his brother so there was no way he could be mistaken for the man in front of him. . .Especially by the man himself. That would just be mind fuck to poor Matthew.
"Long time no see, huh?" Alfred said.
"It's only been a month or two," Matthew replied.
"Yeah, like I said, long time no see!" Alfred grinned.
". . . Y-yeah. I guess." Matthew sighed. It was useless going against his brother.
"Ah, the food is ready, so let us all sit down and eat, oui?" Francis came striding in, flipping his blonde hair over his shoulder and licking his lips. Arthur followed behind, trying to fix his shirt once more and pat down his hair.
Both of the brothers looked over to the man, but Alfred more glared than looked, really. At the mention of food, however, he grimaced.
"If it's Arthur's cooking I just know you're trying to kill us," Alfred muttered.
The sandy haired Briton snapped, and he went to stamp over to Alfred and give him a piece of his mind. However, Francis had other plans in mind and he restrained Arthur by the waist.
Arthur blushed and turned his head to his fiancé, targeting his anger at him now. "Let me go, Francis! He needs to learn to appreciate that he at the very least has food on his plate!"
Francis shook his head, holding onto Arthur more. Although he was extremely useless in wars, he had a fair amount of lovers, so restraining Arthur was like child's play as Francis' arms were encircling Arthur's waist firmly.
Alfred watched with a grimace, frowning and clenching his fists for a fraction of a second, before he tried to cover it up with a cleverly disguised laugh.
Unbeknownst to him, however, Matthew had decided to look to his brother when he had let his little façade disappear. Now a bit concerned for his brother, Matthew kept glancing back, but found no signs of that moment anymore. It was if it never happened.
"Maybe I'm just going crazy," Matthew murmured. No, that wasn't it. Surely something was going on!
"Non, Arthur. You said yourself, they are our guests. And guests must be treated with utmost respect, oui?" Francis said, trying to convince the squirming and cursing man in his arms.
Arthur stopped struggling slowly, though his face was still as red as a tomato. Giving a small 'humph', he muttered under his breath.
Francis sighed and let go of his lover as he calmed down.
"Now then, shall we eat?" Francis suggested, though his tone made it seem more of a command really. Not daring to object at the tone, and their hunger, the four entered the dining room table.
The table had been elegantly decorated with a traditional white cloth, and three sticks of candles were separated evenly. Platters and platters of food covered the table, all looking exquisite and expertly cooked.
Grudgingly, as Alfred sat down he couldn't bring himself to think a single insult of the food. Matthew sat down next to him after a few moments, and Arthur and Francis sat on the other side of the table, next to each other.
For a while, the clatter of plates and utensils were heard throughout the room as the four served themselves to the fine food, occasionally asking if they could pass this, or if they could pass that.
Once they all had their plates filled though, silence set in like a cloud covering the moon or the sun. Eating in this silence, things were admittedly a bit awkward.
Things got even more awkward, however, as Francis started to hit on Arthur. Arthur blushed, and tried to pry Francis away, making feeble excuses such as 'we're eating!' or 'You're going to waste the food, Francis!'
That last excuse however was completely useless as Arthur had hardly put anything on his own plate. Even being engaged to the Frenchmen could not sway him to French culture.
"You know," Francis purred, his hand trailing over Arthur's leg. In turn, Arthur shivered, turning - if possible - more red in the face, and sputtering.
Leaning in closer, Francis' breath tickled the Briton's ear softly, the heat making the ear heat up.
"The food isn't the only delicious thing I see here." Francis murmured, a coy smile coming over his face. Arthur in turn slapped the hand away.
"N-no! O-off! Not now Francis!"
On the other side of the table, Alfred was clenching and unclenching his fists, grinding his teeth. Trying his best to ignore the obvious flirting, he picked up his fork and poked at the food a bit too harshly, hearing the fork squeak against the china plate.
Matthew looked over to his brother as his head was partially lowered and slightly tilted to his brother. He opted to stay silent, though. Most likely his brother wouldn't want to be bothered by the look on his face.
Now looking back to his plate, Matthew was feeling terribly awkward. Francis had gotten out of his chair and was now straddling Arthur, a piece of bread in his lips as he offered it to Arthur. Meanwhile, Alfred was murdering his food with his knives and forks, no doubt pretending it was a certain someone else.
For once, he was glad he went unnoticed.
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"S-sorry about Francis. He's just such a perverted bastard sometimes. . ." Arthur grumbled, a bit red from embarrassment.
"It's ok," Canada murmured, holding Kumajiro tightly in his arms. He didn't mind. Well, not that much anyway.
Both looked over to Alfred, who amazingly enough had kept quiet even until now. Looking back, Alfred blinked.
"Yeah, yeah. It's ok, I guess." Alfred mumbled, still irritated. Really, here he thought he'd have a good time since Matt and Arthur were here - even with the exception of Francis - but in the end it turned out to be a disaster, with Arthur and Francis practically going at it with what they were doing.
He turned around, walking down the pathway of the house before looking over his shoulder at the two. "I'll see you later Mattie,"
Matthew nodded, waving and bidding good-bye.
Alfred looked over to Arthur, and noticed him frowning, eyebrows furrowed.
And even though Arthur looked more than a bit funny at that moment, even though his great big caterpillar eyebrows practically squashed his eyes out of view, even though he was irritated, angry, hurt, and jea-
Noooo. I am not jealous. Alfred thought. It was Arthur who was jealous, surely! He was jealous of…of…of his awesome, of course!
Continuing, even though he was irritated, angry, hurt, and overall pissed the fuck off, he couldn't be mad at Arthur. So, instead of turning around and walking like he planned to, he smiled, and gave a wave. "Later, Arthur."
Considering it his award, Alfred was able to see a similar smile blossom upon Arthur's own face, eyes brightening. "Bye, Alfred." He lifted his hand, giving a feeble wave.
Alfred turned around so Arthur wouldn't see his reddened face, and walked quickly, trying to calm his heart down and get his legs to stop feeling like jelly.
Once he was out of sight however, he grinned, the image never leaving his brain.
Although that night had been possibly one of the worst he'd ever been through, Arthur still managed to make his day.