A/N: I realized that my computer freaked out and gave you the old version, so here's the rewritten, WAAAAY better version, since Miguel was all OC.
Lovino Vargas
S-Class
Country: Italy Romano
Favorite Weapon: Tomato bombs, and cussing people out
Other: A wimp despite his big mouth. Tsundere. He's smarter than his brother, but not by much, since he occasionally makes the same mistakes. But Italians aren't made to be fighters, they're made to be artistic, whether culinary or sculpting, he says, and relies on Spain to protect him, or whoever is close by.
It had been a week since that monumental party, since Matthew and Gilbert were officially together, and Alfred could not make sense of this. His best friend and Gilbert? He had never had any feelings for the albino, but right at the moment he was especially pissed at him.
He was too "awesome" to stay loyal to Matthew! Alfred should've done something before they got together, but he knew, somewhere deep in his mind, that Matthew was going to be happy with Gilbert and everything was going to work out if he didn't stick his nose in their business.
He hated that feeling. Matthew would be abused by that albino freak!
"Mattie going off and dating Gilbert…" he muttered, when he saw something that considerably lightened his mood.
Arthur was sitting, wearing a white button-down shirt and the school's regulation uniform pants, playing something on his cherry red guitar. The light was just perfect, so he and everyone else could see straight through the shirt and at his pale bare chest underneath. Everyone had gathered around him, all their friends and assorted love birds. Arthur spared a glance at him, and he smiled slighted.
It wasn't everyday that Arthur gave mini concerts. And when he did, it made Alfred eat his words about Artie being one of the best. No, he knew then and there that Artie was the best. He was better than the rest, something better than the best.
Arthur was his anti-drug.
He listened to the sound while Arthur sung along with his playing.
"I was so high
I did not recognize
The fire burning in her eyes
Chaos that controlled my mind
It spurred goodbye
As she got on a plane
Never to return again
But always in my heart"
"This love has taken its toll on me
She's said goodbye
too many times before
Her heart is breaking in front of me
And I have no choice,
cause I won't say goodbye anymore."
Alfred clapped in place of drums. Arthur continued doing what he did the best, playing. Alfred was tempted, since he was the vocalist in their band, to sing along, but that pissed Artie off most of the time. But he decided to risk it.
"I tried my best,
to feed her appetite
Keep her coming every night
So hard to keep her satisfied
Keep playing love
like it was just a game
Pretending to feel the same
Turn around and leave again
But it's wrong"
Arthur didn't protest to his voice adding in back up vocals. Which made Alfred happy. But a sudden scream ruined the whole thing.
"Ooaahhhhhahhhh!"
"What? Is everyone okay?" Alfred jumped up, running in the direction of the scream. Arthur put his guitar down softly before running after.
And they unsuspecting walked in on Francis and Francis's boyfriend. And France was halfway up his butt shaft before withdrawing and uttering something to knock Alfred and Arthur from their stupor.
"Three some?"
Alfred squeaked, grabbed Arthur's hand and dashed out of there.
Arthur really didn't know what to say, since he was still arguing over his feelings about the blonde boy currently sleeping across the room. His revelation was the same as Antonio's. The git made him happy, lifted his mood. But he'd say it was more than that. It was a crush.
He knew that all too well. He'd admitted to himself earlier, right? Then why was it taking so long to process? Alfred was the person he wanted to spend his giddy high school times with. Despite being a year older and a senior, he wanted to spend time with his junior crush and be boyfriend and… boyfriend before the end of the school year.
He didn't want to face the truth, if his feelings ran deeper than this than he'd be screwed. Alfred played around with everyone, it even seemed he had a crush as well on Kiku. And he probably had no feelings for him whatsoever. He didn't want to face rejection.
Maybe it'd be better if he never said anything about it and let it fester in his heart until they could part happily and he'd be heart broken before he pick himself up and his feet because he was still friends with Alfred.
Arthur knew that nothing, from here on, dealing with Alfred would end with a big ass smile and a grin. The blonde shifted positions, trying to get comfortable. It wasn't easy, since his heart was so unsettled.
He knew he could be tsundere, as it were. He could still survive. He had a chance, didn't he? Since Francis had said… that to him, he'd been feeling his feelings change to something a bit more real and stronger for the American.
It was like someone had stuck his head into the washer machine. Everything was hard to make sense of. He really wanted to stick his head in the dryer now.
Matthew waited at the edge of the park for Gilbert to come. His scarf was wrapped around his neck and a bit of his face, keeping him warm. It was almost winter now, being at the end of October. Halloween was days away, and it was freezing cold as usual. He didn't want to admit that the coldness was a brisk reminder that Gilbert was a senior.
He'd be graduating the following spring. And Matthew was only a Sophomore. He didn't want to be left behind. Everyone but Peter (freshman), Seychelles (freshman) and Feli (sophomore (he got held behind a year)) would be leaving him behind he wanted to smack the tree he was leaning on and cry.
It was probably a good thing Gilbert showed up right then. He waved, grinning.
"Mattie! The awesome me didn't make you wait for too long, did I?" He called, running over.
"Ah! N-no, not at all." Matthew braced himself for the inevitable glomp. They both tumbled to the ground with Gilbert laughing and Matthew scolding him to learn some brakes at the same time.
"'Loves you, Mattie. That makes up for it." Gilbert laughed, and he brought their mouths together in a soft kiss that lasted a little shorter than Matthew wanted.
They picked themselves up off the ground, and Matthew's cold hand, since he'd been waiting outside in the chill for ten minutes or so, was enveloped by Gilbert's warmer and larger one. Gilbert took to humming something, while Matthew felt like his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. Gilbert didn't even realize how happy even the smallest of actions made him.
Like their hands holding, and the words 'I love you', and the big grin that he always wore whenever he saw Matthew. Those little things made him so happy he could die a peaceful death. And they didn't have to do anything in particular that was romantic, just taking walks like this was so enjoyable. Maybe he just liked Gilbert's presence.
Maybe Antonio's words were… just so very true for so many people. 'He makes me happy' meant so much and had so many hidden meanings. Matthew could hardly deny the fact that Gilbert made him feel high or drunk, he was so giddy off of his mere presence. He makes me happy described him and Gilbert as well as it did Antonio and Lovino.
Ecstatic barely scratched the surface.
"Hey, Mattie? I know it's cold, but ice cream's your favorite, so you want some?" Gilbert nodded to the ice cream truck. Matthew smiled, and dragged him over to the vehicle with new determination.
He wanted ice cream. And he wanted to have it all over his face so Gilbert would lick it off. And his smile warped into a naughty one.
"What flavors do you want, sir?" The lady batted her eyelashes at him but he was too caught up in his plan to notice.
"I want one pistachio and one kon-dyke bar, please" Gilbert blinked as the Canadian, who was usually very quiet and not very assertive. Him being ordered for, even if he did love pistachio, was not very usual Gilbert/Matthew-like.
Once they'd gotten their ice cream, Matthew was content to lead Gilbert into a more secluded part of the park to continue with his evil plan.
He just started licking it seductively, at least as seductively as he knew how. It was working in some way because Gilbert was staring at him with this different look on his face. And hungry eyes.
He let a drop dribble down onto his lip and he froze as it worked. A tongue darted out to grab the drop and soon Gilbert, since they were of the same size, climbed onto his lap and began kissing him senseless.
Ice cream is a wonderful thing.
Awkward would be the best word to describe his position right now. Alfred scratched the back of his head.
"You're here because…?"
Miguel, the short Hispanic that they had seen with Francis not too long ago, was standing on their doorstep. Arthur had been invited to his parent's for the week, so Alfred was home alone. And then Miguel turned up.
"I need your help, amigo. Francis won't leave me alone." He said with wild hand gestures. He just stood there until Alfred beckoned him inside. He took off his shoes, and walked through the door.
"Francis is your boyfriend, isn't he?" Alfred asked, none too convinced.
"But he and I broke up a few weeks ago. He's trying to use to me make you boy toy jealous of him and me together!" Miguel was waving his arms around like windmills, he was freaking out so much. "But he's been going way too far! He never asks my permission! He's using me!"
Alfred flushed at the boy toy comment. "Wha- 'm a hero, and heroes save people like you so I'll help get France off your back. And he's not my boy toy!"
"Gracias! Lo siento for causing you trouble" Miguel plopped down in the chair Alfred offered him. "He's after your Arthur."
Alfred almost dropped his cup. He'd gotten a sneaky suspicion that Francis was after Arthur, and that Miguel was referring to Arthur… and not Kiku, who usually was called his boy toy.
"So Francis is abusing you to get to Arthur?" He asked, wanting confirmation. He wouldn't be satisfied until he knew for sure.
"Si, and it's awful! First we go out and I got uncomfortable with his innuendo, and so we broke up. But then he decided he wanted Arthur, and then he dragged me into it. He started by pretending we never broke up. And then he saw you two together while he was playing guitar, and he grabbed me from my studies and starting trying to rape me. He knew when I screamed, that you would come running. I-I…" He looked really uncomfortable, and he shifted a bit in his chair. Alfred felt something stir inside of him. Hatred. That goddamn mother fucking bitch was going to pay for hurting this innocent citizen and going after Arthur!
He was also a little pissed at himself when he walked away from Miguel and Francis that other day, since Miguel obviously didn't want to be there, and he was suffering under the hands of an asshole.
"Please help, I don't want to be near him!" Miguel bit his bottom lip until it turned white and Alfred felt very shitty.
"I'll help. That's what a hero does, after all. And I'm a hero" Alfred smiled and gave him a thumbs up.
"Gracias! Gracias, Amigo! I won't forget your help!" He grinned brightly and they shook on Alfred's promise.
Francis was going to get it for this.
Francis ate an escargot and sighed. Snails weren't his thing, at least not without lots of butter. He didn't want to think about what exactly escargot was, most of the time. He twitched lethargically.
He was doing this to punish himself. He'd done something wrong. He knew that much. But he was confused, and single, and that never did wonders for his system. He had figured out that he was dearly in love with Arthur, but when he saw Arthur with Alfred, and Matthew with Gilbert, who he was still getting over, together with somebody else, he had this desire to hurt, but yet to please. His fingers tapped on the desk.
He wanted what was rightfully his. Matthew should be his. Miguel should be his. And it wouldn't be long until he had and lost Arthur, who then should be his. He wanted it all. Frenchmen were all too greedy sometimes. Just thinking about the subject was making him feel bugs crawling up and down his arms.
That was just how it worked this time. He had a lot of things that should be his. His, his, and all his. He was being punished with snails because of his wrong doings. He had been without a good fuck for so long that he'd come onto Miguel, who was happily broken up with him. The poor Hispanic boy had been subject to his jealousy. Just thinking about the pleasure was making him feel an empty pit in his stomach.
Once Arthur was his, he wouldn't act so insane. He'd have somebody… He'd have a body with a mind he desired.
He needed to talk to Gilbert, or Antonio, or somebody. He needed to explain, and have them help him through this time. Nothing would fix this. He twitched, the bugs still crawling and it sunk it as truthfully as it could get. He was having a relapse.
He… wanted sex. He'd been addicted to it for so long, he didn't even know how long. If things got really bad, usually Antonio or Gilbert gave him a fix. It'd always been that way since he'd been little. They kept him in check. Once he gotten old enough, he found his own boyfriends or girlfriends to service him. He always used protection, he was safe about it. But he'd gone too long… he though he could win.
Win against his body and his mind as a team? They both desired it. He desired it. He couldn't fight it like stoners couldn't fight their drugs. And he'd done something so very wrong. He needed somebody.
Somebody.
He grabbed his cell phone, shaky fingers dialing Antonio's number. Gilbert should be on his date with his ex boy toy, he shouldn't interrupt…
"Hola, Francis! Do you need something?" Antonio's cheery voice came through the speakers.
"Are you alone?" He asked desperately, beginning palming himself through his pants.
"Si, are you okay? Are you… having a relapse?" Antonio sounded worried, and Francis had no words to comfort him or himself.
"I need you" He panted, continuing his ministrations on the budge in his pants.
"Ah, si. I'll be there soon" Francis heard him call out from his room, most probably, and throw on a jacket. The phone clicked, and Francis felt tense.
He ground his palm harder until he gasped. His organism was quick and hardly pleasurable, but it would be enough to last until Antonio came over. And when Franics heard his room door open and he knew who it was. He gave Antonio a look, one he could barely read himself, and Antonio just heaved a sigh.
"Please" He whispered hoarsely. Antonio responded by stripping off his jacket and lifting his shirt over his head.
A/N: you guys want to kill me, huh? Well, we now know why France was raping Mexico. If you like France, you'll see why I did this. And I promise I'll redeem France after this, but it's all going to hell first.
This was a short chappy. Forgive me for that. I wish you all a happy Zemmiphobia day. Even though it's WAAAAAYY late. Zemmiphobia day is the 22nd of March. Put it in your calendars, people.
And to your responses on the Spamano vs. Spaxico, I have an answer to you. I'm not going to tell you now! HAHA! The real answer will be posted later on. HAHA! I'm your most hated author after this chappie, huh?
You people will have to review with a number of good songs I should use in way later chapters if you want your Spamano quicker rather than later… If Artie and Lovi have to fight for it, then so will you! (ALL ANONYMOUS REVIEWS ACCEPTED SO COMMENT!)
Edit: Formatting fixed. Hopefully this is easier and better to read now.
Francis: I hate this author and am glad she doesn't own Hetalia.
Arthur: I hate her too, but I hate that bloody frog too for doing unimaginable things to Miguel and Spain and Canada, and who knows who else.
