A/N: Thought of this idea, ironically, at a Mexican restaurant. Before the food came, I was daydreaming, kinda twirling my straw (oh, you know you do this too…) and I just got struck by the inspiration~ I said, "Ah!" and grabbed a pen from my pocket, and just scribbled it down onto a napkin. My family was all… _?

But yeah, my English teacher said I have an author's soul. No wonder XD Future career idea, perhaps? (Hey, don't laugh. JK Rowling started on napkins…)

Oh, and, random Latvia cameo in the first paragraph. 'Cause I roll like that.

--

Aaand… Mr. Edelstein still wouldn't shut up. The mountain of lecture notes hadn't even been started on and yet the introduction itself seemed to take nearly all the class period. However, as the dangerously bored German with his head rather comfortably perched backwards on some random quivering blonde's shoulder turned lazily to see the clock, the hands indicated that only two minutes had passed. Fuuuuck.

He sighed, and his headrest squeaked a bit, whispering tremulously, "U-Um… Who are you?" "Unh. Shut up, kid." The boy trembled but obliged, whispering something that sounded oddly like, "I just want siblings…" A quick shake of the head, silver hair swinging lightly, dismissed the notion.

Hmm, now, how to pass the time?

Gilbert frowned and considered the question with a perplexed look, glancing around. His eyes flickered to the Canadian diligently taking notes in front of him, and he gave a sly grin, propping his body upright and beginning to write another note. The strange kid behind him breathed an audible sigh of relief.

His pen moved quickly as he scribbled on the notebook, taking only a few words to ask the question he had devised. The silverette bit his lip as he read it over, deemed it acceptable, and poked the soft blonde head in front of him.

Matthew gave such a jolt that several people turned to stare, and Gilbert was surprised that the priss of a teacher hadn't noticed. No, the monotone that was quickly becoming a familiar lullaby droned onwards.

Inclining his head just slightly to the persistent German, the blonde whispered, "What, Gilbert?" Said teen winced as he saw that the bruise he himself had created was blooming rather vividly over the delicate jawline. Ignoring the guilt coiling in the pit of his stomach, he just handed Matthew the paper and said lowly, "Read it." He was given a faint smile and a sarcastic eyebrow raise. "Really? I was gonna eat the note if you hadn't told me." "Oh, shut it, liebling."

As the folded message was passed, two hands brushed softly, and Gilbert couldn't help but blush, the color dusting itself across snowy skin as the object of his affections turned back and opened the paper. Violet eyes scanned its contents as a slow smile worked its way onto the Canadian's face. "R-Really, Gil?" he inquired softly, spinning back around. "Awesome, right?" "Very. Would seven work?"

It looked as if Gilbert would have a very pleasant dinner, indeed.

--

As Alfred chewed furiously, massive wad of gum somehow not impairing his steering ability, the American screamed, "OH, MOTHERFUCKER! DAMN YOU TO HELL, PRINCESS PEACH!!! DAMN IT, LUIGI, STAY ON THE FUCKING TRACK! SPEED BOOST, SP-NOOOOOO!! SCREW THIS!"

A WiiMote now lay sad and broken upon Matthew's floor.

The Canadian whirled around, too anxious to be that pissed, and said, "For the love of maple, Al! If you're going to use my Wii, please don't break it." "B-But my Kart was-" "Alfred Jones. Silence."

The tall blonde pouted, lip jutting out, and said, "Fiiine." "Now, how does this look?" The American sighed. "Matt, why do you care so much? It looks fine. Great." "Al, you said that about the last five shirts." "Can I help it that you look sexy in everything, bro?" Matthew rolled his eyes and shrugged off his jacket, tossing it at Alfred's head. He didn't miss.

"So, there's gotta be a reason, right?" asked the jock, bending down on one knee and picking up the sad white fragments of one previous WiiMote. "I mean, why you're primping." "I am not! God, you make me sound like a girl!"

"C'mon, dinner date or something?" Matthew hesitated, flushing red, and nodded almost imperceptibly. "Cool. Glad you're getting over, you know…"

Alfred was suddenly uncomfortable; he crossed his arms and sniffed. His little brother, completely lost, said, "Uh, clarification, please?" "You know, Gilbert. That fucking bastard." The Canadian jumped a bit, realizing how cautious he had to be, and replied swiftly, "U-Uh, yeah. Actually, I'm going with Antonio…" "Aw, that's cuuute." "Want to be hit again?" Alfred laughed.

"So, the green one's best, huh?" A facepalm, courtesy of one American. "UUUGH!"

--

Antonio sighed as he was given yet another command by his father, whose voice barely carried from the bustling kitchen. "Antonio! You will wash the dishes, yeah?" "But papa…" "Oi! No buts, you're washing the dishes. Comprende?" The brunette's shoulders slumped as he shuffled to the sink, towers of dishes alarmingly unsteady. "Si, papa."

As his hands plunged deep into soapy water, the teen cringed at the heat. He hadn't noticed that the water was steaming and nearly bubbling, and he cried out softly in pain. He pulled out quickly, biting his lip as his eyes watered. His hands were bright red and a few fingertips bled.

"D-Damn…" he mumbled, hastily grabbing a towel and soaking up all the red liquid. The light yellow fabric was slowly dyed a sickening orange, and Antonio swore under his breath as he threw the cloth away, berated by his father for wasting it. Whatever, he thought.

As he set back to his menial task, cringing all the way, he heard the bells signaling a new customer ring from the doorway, and happily grabbed a stack of menus in favor of greeting them instead. It was still work, right?

Thanking the first customers of the night within his head, he looked up and gave a smile, "Hello, and welcome t-…" Antonio trailed off, his grin disappearing. The two who had entered were none other than Matthew and Gilbert, the former, to his fury, sporting a large purple bruise across his cheek. An awkward silence passed between both parties as the Canadian nervously drew closer to his escort, who wrapped an arm protectively around his waist.

Not being able to bear the quiet any longer, the Spaniard spat, "Get your filthy hands off of him." "Shut the fuck up." Matthew inhaled sharply at the German's harsh words. Antonio recoiled as if he'd been hit.

"Matt, querida, I thought I told you to stay away f-" Gilbert's hand met a coffee-colored neck and squeezed. The blonde next to him shrieked loudly, screaming, "Stop it! Stop!" Antonio gasped weakly, vision spinning as he frantically clawed at pale wrists.

And then, it was over. The Spaniard sank to his knees and panted as his opponent backed away, a sober look on his face. Antonio finally regained his wind, coughing out, "What is wrong with you?" Gilbert looked at him, eyes filled with sorrow. "Matt." said the German abruptly. The Canadian jumped, responding, "Yeah?"

Gilbert walked closer to him, not saying a word. "G-Gil, what are y-" The silverette leaned down and caught the blonde's lips in a gentle, passionate kiss, one hand on the back of the shorter boy's head pushing up softly. Antonio just stared, dropping the menus. Papers scattered on the floor, unnoticed by the two liplocking.

Matthew moaned involuntarily, tilting his head back. He seemed to regain his senses after that, however, and broke the hold, gasping and turning to face his friend. "Oh God, 'Toni, I didn't mean t-to…"

Antonio's eyes blazed with a barely veiled fury, and he walked up to Matthew, doing something completely unexpected. He shoved him, hard, so hard that the Canadian stumbled into a table and fell with a great crash. Gilbert snarled, but the teen was already gone, much to his father's dismay.

With a shove of the door, Antonio sprinted out of the restaurant, eyes watering as he yelled and tore off his apron. He ran across the street as several cars screeched to a stop and honked. The boy was half-hysterical, gasping for breath even as he tore across front lawns and sidewalks, not knowing where he was going and not particularly caring. He only realized he was crying as his dark hair, whipping about crazily, stuck to his wet cheeks.

Only then did he stop.

--

Matthew cringed in pain as Gilbert tenderly pulled shards of glass out of his shoulder, menus still scattered about the floor. Workers hastened to clean up as the huffing German mumbled, "That bastard…" The blonde turned away, choosing not to comment.

After the deed was done, the silverette stood, feeling strangely accomplished, only to kneel down again and give Matthew a quick peck on the forehead. "Better, birdie? Are you awesome once more?" This prompted, at last, a little chuckle from the Canadian, who whispered, "Much," and hugged the other teen around the waist.

"See, Matt, I'd never do that to you." Matthew held his tongue as he wanted to scream that he already had. He just settled for another kiss.

--

Oh dearie. D: Violent!Gil is violent…

So, some Toni + Allie time next chapter (Most likely. Haven't written it yet orz), look forward to it!

Gawd, I luff Antonio, so this chapter was hard, but necessary to write. So, in exchange for mah pain, review plz? :3 Pwetty plz? –puts on pouty Al face-

|:o OH GILLY. PLZ CHANGE.