The next morning, Arthur awoke to the sounds of birds singing in the trees. The small window in the room let in a little morning light, golden beams shining across his face. That made something click. Where was he?

Then, memories came rushing back to him and he hid his face as it turned crimson. What the hell had he done last night? What was wrong with him? But…it had all been so right…Suddenly, he realized Alfred wasn't with him. Where-

"Hm, morning, President Kirkland of Hetalia International Academy!" Alfred said, descending from the stairs yawning. He'd gone up stairs to change into a pair of gray sweatpants and a tank top.

Arthur hid under the blanket while shouting back, "And a good morning to you! Let me sleep! A proper English gentleman never wakes up before seven!"

"C'mon, you were already awake," Alfred said, turning the corner of the hallway and sitting on the edge of the couch, "plus it's 7:30. And last time I checked, you weren't a proper English gentleman."

An insult! Arthur raised his head indignantly, only to be kissed on the cheek by his boyfriend. "Knew that'd get you up," Alfred said and winked, "well, breakfast time. You wanna use the shower?"

"Bloody hell, Alfred, of course I do, but I haven't a change of clothes. I'd correct your grammar if I wasn't so disgusted with it." Arthur said, rolling his eyes, blushing a little from the surprise kiss.

"Well, I'm sure I have a shirt or two that would fit you. We're practically the same size anyways. Get going, King Arthur, and be down to eat. I'll put the clothes out." The American had started cracking eggs and frying bacon.

"Bloody Americans, scrambling perfectly good eggs in a skillet instead of boiling them. I doubt you even have an egg cup." Arthur grumbled as he got up, draping the blanket over himself as did, which only made him look like a miserable attempt at a Halloween ghost costume.

"What's an egg cup?" Alfred said, taking a second away from cooking to wink with bright blue eyes at Arthur with his, who turned pink and cursed all Americans under his breath as he navigated the hallway.

Alfred chuckled. He'd finally got what he wanted, and Arthur seemed happier too. Casting a sidelong glance at his cupboard full of chocolate, he resolved to find a way to give away some of it. He didn't need anything to fill his loneliness anymore. Checking the sizzling contents of his pan, he decided get some clothes for Arthur when the bacon finished. Humming a tune under his breath, he smiled to himself.

Tell me all that you've thrown away

Find out games you don't wanna play

You are the only one who needs to know….

Minutes later, both a full breakfast for two and a Brit with slightly damp hair were at the table. Alfred had found a too-small and seldom used dress shirt which had fit the shorter boy fairly well, along with matching pants which had apparently been part of the same suit set, which Arthur had commented "was brought be a relative who didn't know you in the slightest".

As Alfred chomped down bacon, Arthur decided to keep mainly to eggs and toast. A question kept fluttering around in his mind.

"So, Alfred," Arthur began shakily, and Alfred stopped eating for a second to listen, "I guess we're…"

"Going out now? Hell yes, and you call me the idiot." Alfred said with his mouth full of food.

"Don't speak like that, it's disgusting. I was just confirming, and that leads me to my other question, how in the bloody hell are we going to be able to see each other?" Arthur said, turning pink.

Gulping down his mouthful, Alfred answered. "It won't be that hard, because no one will suspect us. Think about it, our reputation is as bitter enemies, so any time you want to see me, just claim we have a project and grumble about it for a while and sulk like you do. It'll be totally believable." He concluded and ate some more toast.

"Well, yes…" Arthur was blushing slightly, which Alfred noticed immediately. He leaned over and kissed his lover on the cheek, sparking a glare framed by large eyebrows.

"You're so insecure, Artie. It'll be fine, 'cause heroes like me always protect who they love. I don't know if the same is true about British gentlemen though." Blue eyes sparkled as Alfred smiled back.

"Well, they do. And where are all these nicknames coming from anyways?" Arthur asked, irritated.

"Let's just say I've had a lot of time to think about them. King Arthur, Artie, Eyebrows…"

"God, please just call me Kirkland in school." He imagined Francis teasing him about it, rubbing his stubbly chin and laughing in his French "hohohohon…"

"Sure, and you have to remember to call me Jones." Alfred said, teasing now. "No Alfie, Al, Epic Amazing Superman-"

"Like hell I'd ever call you that!" Arthur laughed, shaking his head.

"Well, if you remember Friday, you said we'd have fun as partners 'when hell froze over', so I'm sorta taking bets on it."

"Git." Arthur leaned on Alfred's shoulder.

Alfred kissed his forehead. "Idiot."

They sat like that for a while, enjoying the company of each other, until Arthur insisted had to clear the dishes, his proper housekeeping senses kicking in. Alfred just sighed, smiling, as bright morning light streamed through the kitchen, making the small tiled space seem like a piece of heaven.


"Have a good day at church, hope you're not Catholic!" Alfred said, as he waved Arthur off. He laughed at his own joke.

"I'm Protestant, last time I checked!" Arthur called back, starting his car and leaving for the chapel. Driving helped him calm his mind and concentrate on the alibi he was going to use with his family. Sure, they didn't care about much, but his brothers might start questioning him. He'd come up with the project being made difficult by his insolent American partner, requiring them to stay up late to finish it. By the end, he was too exhausted to go home, so he was offered a place to stay for the night.

Alfred. He found himself wondering when he had started caring for him. He had no clue himself until he saw Alfred crying, then something inside him had just snapped into place, making him realize just how much he wanted, needed, Alfred to be all right. That sharp tongue, always ready with a counter argument, his bright sky-blue eyes, hidden behind glasses, a blond mop with a stubborn curl….

That'd have to do. He was there, to the little white building with a steeple and it was time to face his family and make sure they didn't find out about his gay boyfriend.

He pulled up in the small parking lot, framed by well-kept bushes and yellow tulips. The clear white markings created squares on the asphalt, and Arthur groaned as he saw his family's van was already parked in the lot. They'd be waiting for him.

Getting out of the car and stowing the keys in his pocket, the English teen took a deep breath and crossed the threshold into the open space of his church. Spotting the tell-tale ginger hair of his brother, he sat down on a bench, determined to stick to his story. Of course, the interrogation began right away.

Where had he been, why was he there, why couldn't he finish the project, why he had stayed overnight, the questions flowed thick and fast, mostly from his nosy brothers while his parents were too busy ignoring each other to notice anything else. He sighed, tiredly answering the questions, but his brothers, as always, kept nosing around for a falsehood that they could exploit.

"Arthur, you didn't leave the house in those clothes, so why do you have them?" Crap. He didn't think of that. An alibi, quick.

"Well, I guessed as much that my partner would be incompetent, so I brought my clothes just in case." That was all right, even though Peter looked slightly dubious, he hoped that part would hold just long enough for the minister to-

"Children! Today, we gather…" Oh, thank god. The monotonous voice of the priest rang through the hall, making parents quiet their offspring as they listened to holy words. Holy, completely boring words they had all heard a thousand times. As usual, Arthur decided to blank out and go through his own thoughts.

Alfred Jones, he thought. An obnoxious, brave, gentle, smart, handsome senior who was the top athlete of the school. The ash blonde hair with a stubborn curl that never laid flat, blue eyes framed by square glasses, quite possibly the only person who had ever needed him. Arthur held his hands together in prayer, quietly asking God for a happy life, health for his family, friends, and Alfred.

As soon as Arthur's car pulled away, a furry presence head-butted Alfred's leg. "Hero!" Alfred exclaimed, picking up his cat, "So you ran off to go play with Crumpet again? Naughty boy." He carried his pet back inside, then moved to go get Hero's breakfast.

Rifling through a small plastic bag for a tin of food, Alfred reflected on his success last night, finally lifting the weight of unrequited love off his shoulders and actually getting Arthur in the process. He had resigned himself to the fact that the Brit would never know, but that just went to show that life surprised you when you least expected it.

Giving the feline a can of Me*w Mix, he sat down at his table, flipping through his sketchbook. When he got to Arthur's face, he smiled and traced the lines lightly with his fingers. He'd have to show it to him Monday.

Looking over at the cabinet full of chocolate, he had an idea. Flipping through a few recipe books that his aunt had left, he came to just the one he was looking for, jotted down a few lines on a scrap of paper, and set off in his pick-up for the grocery store. Hero jumped up on the table, his tail brushing a few pages over the entry that Alfred found. Chocolate desserts and other treats.


Monday, Hetalia International Academy, 8:40am

Alfred pulled up to school earlier than usual, glad to be taking his time for once. He breathed in the sweet spring air before walking to the gates. As he walked through the halls, teachers and students alike saw him and looked mildly surprised. He figured that the word of him and Arthur being partners must have spread. He even saw his Latin teacher, Mr. Roma, in the hallway, and the man was so glad to see him that he hugged the poor boy and started jabbering away in Italian.

He paused before walking into room 700, smiling evilly to himself before pulling the door suddenly and watched an unsuspecting teen to fall back into the hallways. "Mon Dieu!" cried the French youth, but unlike the horribly out of shape Arthur, he was able to recover his fall. The Brit was instead leaning on the podium up front and shot Alfred a glance like didn't get me this time, Jones. Alfred just stuck out his tongue. Their plan was to keep up their rivalry, which couldn't be easier.

Mr. Adnan got to class three minutes before the bell, letting out a breath of relief when he saw both boys there and virtually unharmed. Secretly, he wondered if they had just ditched the project rather than suffer each other. He would have to ask Vasch later.

Meanwhile, Francis watched Alfred migrate over to talk to Kiku. His gaze gradually scanned back to Arthur, who was more than aware that this meant the frog thought something was up.

"So, mon ami, how was the weekend project?" Francis probed, clearly connecting a few dots.

Arthur answered with his well-rehearsed lie, "A complete nightmare."

"Really?" The teen said in mock surprise, "I would have assumed that being alone with Jones wouldn't be that bad-"

Now Arthur could start telling the truth. "It was. He made me rewrite an entire section of my debate and then wouldn't add one of my issues to his, as well as pointing out holes in my side..." While the Brit ranted, Francis took the time to analyze. First, the blush on his face, not to mention the way he would avoid anything outside the project that Jones did to annoy him, and that the shirt the president wore today had a higher collar. The way he had seen them looking at each other that morning confirmed his suspicions.

Cutting the enraged Englishman off, he held a hand up, as if to block off others from hearing what he was going to say, "So, how was he really?" he asked in a rather breathy voice.

Arthur turned red and looked flustered. Francis grinned. There was Kirkland, the horrible liar he knew.

"R-Really? He was annoying, obnoxious and stubborn! Honestly, Bonnefoy, what are you trying to imply?"

"Oh nothing, of course, Kirkland." Francis smiled in triumph. He had gotten what he needed. This was going to be an interesting last term.

Second period dragged on, with the drugs quiz taking up most of class. Alfred had aced it and put it in the basket ahead of anyone else, leaving him to sketch on loose-leaf paper. He traced a teacup, a little unicorn, and a fluttering fairy on the lined sheet.

Gilbert leaned over and asked a question to the daydreaming artist. "Hey, Al, y'know the English debate thing?"

Alfred nodded, knowing his friend was using this as an excuse to talk about himself. "Yeah, how'd yours go?"

"Man, that Elizaveta is a devil! I swear, she didn't let me have any fun with the debate about old Eastern European wars! I kept saying the strongest force at the time was Prussia, but she kept noting all these battles where Hungary's army beat 'em back! It sucked!"

:Aren't you two old friends or something?"

"Well…that was when we were kids, and I didn't even know she was a girl back then."

Alfred snickered. "Wow, that's one hell of a bad start."

"You've got no idea buddy." Gilbert slumped down in his seat.

BRRRRRIIIINGGG! Lunchtime, and Alfred decided to talk more to Gilbert about the project, He was interesting mainly because his German friend would keep reddening whenever he mentioned his partner. Being the prying, obnoxious American he was, he wanted to figure out what had happened. He sat down next to the infamous Bad Touch Trio, Antonio, the cheerful Spaniard, his friend Gil, and Francis, vice president of the student council. The three were legend when it came to pranks and just about any major incident in the past 4 years at Hetalia International could be traced back to them.

"So, Francis my buddy, why are you over here?" Gilbert questioned, "Not that I'm unhappy you're not hanging out with those boring brats over there."

"Oh, you know, sometimes sexual tensions are a little too high even for moi," Francis said smoothly, the epitome of casual seduction. Of course, everyone at the table was unaffected, but various girls walking by looked a little dreamy-eyed.

Gilbert snorted. "Too bad for you? Well, being as awesome as I am, I'd like to give it a shot."

"Oh, please," Francis laid a restraining hand on his friend, "believe me. Ivan is over there with his group of lackeys. Levels are quite high."

"Well," Gilbert gulped; the Russian was the only one in the school who scared him, "not that I'm scared, but I see what you're saying."

"Of course, mon ami." Francis smirked.

"Hey, Alfred!" Antonio said to catch the American's attention, "Everyone's talking about your project! Locked in with a mad Brit until you two could work together, wow. How'd it go?"

Alfred sighed. "It was nuts. I don't think I've ever met anyone as ornery as Kirkland." This, being the truth, was easy to say.

Francis's eyebrows shot up suggestively, "So, you would say you got to know him better?" The Frenchman made this statement sound incredibly dirty.

Antonio smiled, "Francis, what are you implying there?" The Spaniard was curious.

"Mon ami, just to cut it short, our dear Kirkland seems to feel a certain attraction to our American here, one that seems a bit…"

"Hostile?" Alfred supplied slyly.

Gilbert smirked. "Yeah, that'd be it."

Francis wanted to pry a little more, but it'd probably be a waste on Alfred. "So, my German friend," he said, taking a different approach, "how was dear Elizaveta?"

Gilbert slumped. "God, don't bring that up. That girl," he pointed over to where the Hungarian was looking at photos on Kiku's camera and choking back a scream, "is a wolf in sheep's clothing."

"Hm, so you saw her without such a covering?" Francis's eyebrows shot up again.

Gilbert laughed bitterly. "Oh god no, she's insufferable and evil and just weird. I have new bruises and a concussion after Saturday. Every time I mentioned some other guy she shrieked and got a nosebleed." He rubbed his head, wincing as he hit a sore spot. "Don't ask. I did."

"Hm, Lovi and I made a pretty good team…" Antonio said dreamily. Gilbert just rolled his eyes.

"You're always on about Lovino, Tonio," Gilbert pointed out, "I don't know what any brother of Feliciano's could be like."

"Oh, he's hot tempered, curses too much, but he's so sweet~" Antonio sighed happily, but was mainly ignored.

Gilbert looked over at the council table, then back at his French friend, "So how'd they enjoy the stink bomb in the lounge last Wednesday?"

Francis smiled craftily. "I can't say the president was wildly pleased when he sat on it."

Gilbert slapped his knee, laughing. "Oh I wish I could have been there! He'd be all 'bloody hell' and then fall over!" Alfred was laughing too, picturing the same thing.

They started talking about all the pranks that the trio had fixed, or at least denied that they were carried out by them but that they happened to know all the logistics of. Lunch ended quickly, allowing students to back up their boxes and pick up their trays before leaving for third period. Alfred breathed a sigh of relief when no one was looking; glad he had evaded the topic that Francis was really trying to get at.

After the Bad Touch Trio cleared their trays, Gilbert whispered over to Francis. "They're going out, aren't they?"

The French teen replied promptly, "Of course."

Gilbert chuckled. "Knew it."


A/N: I just love the Bad Touch Trio, so I wanted them all to show up together... feel free to review and correct as many mistakes of mine that you see :)