Title: My High School Crush
Pairings: England/Canada, America/England, Germany/Italy, France/Canada, England/Japan, France/Italy, Germany/Canada, America/France, Greece/Canada, Greece/Japan, Spain/Romano (possibly more)
What's worse than your brother reading your diary and finding out that you have a crush on someone in your class? Your brother reading your diary and then telling the entire class about said crush! America just can't keep his mouth shut, but Canada's not the only one about to have a high school romance...
"Ooh...so pretty!"
"Ja it is nice."
"I barely recognise the school..."
Italy beamed, clinging onto his boyfriend's hand as he Japan and Germany wandered aimlessly into what was once the school's main hall, that had since been transformed into their very own elaborate prom night. American high schools sure did go all out. Every inch of the room was shining and shimmering with sparkles of silver, large glittering hangings showered the walls and surrounding the double door entrance to the hall was an archway of purple and white balloons. The stage was alight with a towering stereo system and the DJ playing, however the rest of the room remained dimly lit, the only light radiating from the colour changing gobos that decorated the floor with spinning patterns of hearts and stars, and the white spots of lights reflecting from the large glimmering disco ball above their heads.
Germany shifted slightly uncomfortably in his suit, he was grateful for the lack of bright lights meaning the colour of his suit wasn't quite so shocking. His hand started swinging from side to side and he looked down curiously to see the Italian tugging it back and forth, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "What are you doing?" the German muttered, smirking slightly.
"Ve...I'm excited!" Italy giggled, beaming up at the blond.
Germany smiled, gently squeezing his hand. "Calm down, the nights young." he said, looking for a free table to allocate themselves. There were a limited number of places to sit, most of the space was being used for the dance floor and tables and chairs weren't that big a priority. However as it was still relatively early there wasn't that much dancing going on, most of the students were stood in large huddles; the girls admiring and squealing over each other's prom dresses and their dates standing awkwardly beside them in their matching coloured ties.
Japan followed his friends to the edge of hall, gazing around with wonder. He felt quite awkward at such a large social event, even in a familiar building with all his school chums it unnerved him slightly. The Asian stood awkwardly next the German, looking away politely when he and Italy began kissing sweetly beside him. Japan gazed around the hall, looking for any sign of Greece in the dense crowds but he had yet to arrive.
Italy was gently pushed away from the kiss; the German's face looked like it was on fire. The Italian giggled slightly, pinching his cheek. Germany smiled awkwardly, eyes flitting about the hall to check no one was watching them. "So um, Kiku." he said suddenly. "Where's Heracles tonight?"
"Didn't you come together?" Italy asked curiously.
Japan shook his head. "He said he's going to be late because he's visiting family...but he told me I should go anyway and he'd meet me here later." the Asian said, not able to help the slight sigh that found its way into his voice.
Italy smiled sadly at him. "Aww it's okay Kiku, you can always dance with us!" he said happily, clinging onto his boyfriend's hand again.
Germany quirked an eyebrow. "Us?"
"Ve?"
The German just stared at him blankly. "Who says I'll be dancing? I don't dance." he muttered.
Italy pouted, swinging on his hand. "You will..."
"What?"
"You'll dance, you'll dance because I want you to..." the Italian sang, grinning up at him.
Germany scoffed slightly, shaking his head. "Well we'll just see about that." he said with a smirk, even though he could already plainly see what the outcome was going to be, he couldn't ever deny his little Italian anything, even before they had started dating it was impossible.
"What the hell are you two wearing?"
The German mentally cringed as the loud, and as always, pissed off sounded voice of Italy's older brother floated in from somewhere behind them. The three of them turned to see Romano and Antonio heading towards them; the Spaniard's smile was bigger and brighter than ever; Romano had his usual scowl.
Italy beamed, waving excitedly. "Hey fratello! Hey Antonio!"
"Hey Feliciano! Wow are those matching suits?" Spain asked in amazement when they'd finally reached them. He laughed, clapping his hands together as he took in the sight of them in their pink and blue. "You guys look so adorable!"
Italy giggled slightly whilst the German blushed, hiding his face so Romano wouldn't see. The Italian grunted his disapproval. "It looks pretty stupid, honestly Feliciano it's bad enough you're here with him but why the hell would you want to dress like him?" he demanded, glaring at the German's back.
Antonio chuckled, ruffling Romano's hair. "Don't be so grumpy! They look cute..." he cooed, laughing slightly as Italy cuddled the German around the middle, smiling cutely up at him. Romano rolled his eyes, crossing his arms moodily. He and Spain hadn't colour coordinated in the slightest; Spain's suit jacket was a deep shade of red with a black shirt, and the Italian was wearing a typical black tie suit with a white shirt.
"It's ridiculous." Romano grumbled, glaring at the German. "You know only Italians can pull off that kind of suit! A potato bastard like you shouldn't be wearing something like that!"
The German sighed irritably but ignored him, keeping his attention focused on his boyfriend. Italy smiled up at him, kissing the tip of his nose. "Don't listen to him Luddi, you look amazing..." he murmured softly.
Germany smiled, his cheeks going pink. "Danke Feli, but I think he's right...only you really pull it off." he said softly. He was telling the truth, whilst he had to admit the light blue of the blazer did suit him he was still feeling a little uneasy wearing something so flashy. His boyfriend on the other hand looked positively adorable in pink, all sweet and sugary he looked good enough to eat. The German felt himself blush even more at these internal thoughts.
A good half an hour later prom night was in full swing, the dance floor became flooded with people and couples dancing to the rhythmic hip hop music. Only by this point did France and Canada stroll into the hall, hand in hand, gazing around the glittering room. The Canadian squinted his eyes slightly as a bright spot of light from the disco ball reflected into directly his eyes off of a string of silver streamers. "Oh my, it looks...different, doesn't it?" he said, awkwardly lifting a hand up to conceal his eyes.
France glanced at him, smiling slightly, "You don't like it?" he asked.
Canada shrugged slightly, fiddling with his blazer sleeves. "Yeah I guess...bit too sparkly, maybe." he said softly, smiling.
France smirked slightly, "Mon cher you can never 'ave too many sparkles." he murmured, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. Canada cursed his insistent blushing at the contact, his heart giving a joyful squeeze. France smiled warmly, gently tugging on his hand. "Shall we dance?" he asked with a grin.
Canada looked slightly wary as he saw the other couples already out on the dance floor, the girls swinging their hips and the boys bobbing jauntily beside them, they all seemed to know what they were doing. "Oh um...okay, but I'm not really any good..." he muttered anxiously as the blond starting leading him forward through the sea of people.
"Just follow my lead..." France said with a wink. He spun around in the very centre of the dance floor to face the Canadian; the Frenchman seemed to tap into some kind of natural instinct and instantly knew how to move to the music, each thrust of his hips and step to the side was perfectly in time with the music. The Canadian tried his best to mimic his actions but felt incredibly uncomfortable trying to copy such provocative movements, especially with pretty much every female in the room watching them...or at least watching France.
One girl in particular in a short, strapless dress suddenly waded her way in between France and Canada on the dance floor. "Hi Francis..." she purred, sideling up to the Frenchman, completely blocking Canada out of the way, she twirled her long red curls around her finger, giggling slightly.
France smiled at her, taking a slight step back. "Bonjour." he said, trying to edge around her.
Canada bit his lip, standing awkwardly on the dance floor as this pretty girl from France's year flirted relentlessly with him. "Do you wanna dance with me?" she asked hopefully, holding out her hand.
France took her hand and Canada's heart fell. The Frenchman gently manoeuvred her out of the way. "I'm afraid not mon cher." he said with an apologetic smile.
The girl looked undoubtedly insulted. "What? Why not?" she demanded with a frown.
France smirked, taking Canada's hand and pulling him close. "I'm spoken for." he said softly, slipping an arm around the Canadian's waist.
She flounced off in a huff, bright red in the face. Canada bit his lip, gazing up at the blond. "...spoken for?" he whispered.
"Of course." France said with a smirk, taking his other hand just as the music faded into a slow, romantic song.
Canada blushed heavily as they came together, resting his slightly trembling hand on the blonds' shoulder as they moved slowly to the music. "Francis..." the Canadian said softly, halting their movement.
"Oui?" he asked, gently squeezing Canada's hand.
The Canadian bit his lip. "...thank you." he murmured.
France looked confused. "Hm?"
Canada blushed again. "...thank you for...for asking me to prom and...and just being so sweet and lovely to me even though you're way out of my league, I mean that girl was really pretty and I know you could have anyone you wanted and you're here with me!" the words tumbled from his lips in a flurry and France just smirked. The Canadian tore his eyes away from the blond, gazing down at the lights on floor. "Sorry...I babble on too much..." he muttered softly.
France smiled, "I think it'z sweet." he murmured as he gazed down at the red-faced Canadian. He let go of his hand and gently tipped Canada's chin up to face him, he was clearly very embarrassed and wouldn't meet France's eyes. "Mattie..." France murmured softly, gently squeezing his cheek to bring their eyes to meet. Canada flushed with embarrssment but before he could avert his gaze again France leant down and pressed their lips together in the tender kiss.
Canada gasped sharply at the unexpected contact. He felt France's hesitation at the reaction and he flung his arms around the blonds' neck before he could change his mind and pull away. France smirked slightly into the kiss, pressing their lips more firmly together as he became more certain. Canada's fingers knotted themselves into the silky blond locks hanging down from France's ponytail, holding back a moan of bliss as their lips moved slowly together. The Canadian felt on top of the highest mountain, fireworks going off inside his heart as he stood kissing France, the young school boy he'd crushed on for so long, the man he'd fallen for, beneath the dazzling disco lights.
It was all over too soon and just as Canada was finding the courage to deepen the kiss the Frenchman slowly pulled away. The Canadian stared up at him with bright, wide eyes, cheeks a rosy pink to match the blonds' shirt. "Francis..." he breathed, his heart squeezing and clenching inside his chest.
France smiled, leaning his head gently against the Canadian's shoulder he murmured something into his ear, lacing their fingers together. Canada swallowed slightly, but nodded, grinning up at him. France took his hand, leading him back through the dense crowd of prom suits and prom dresses, they headed towards the double doors that took them out of the school hall. They stopped just short of it however when a familiar face appeared in the entrance, looking incredibly uneasy and on edge.
"Alfred!?" Canada gasped in surprise when he saw his brother. "You're here!"
France smirked at him. "Ahh taking my advice oui?" he said, gazing back into the hall to try and see where the American was looking.
Canada noticed with slight confusion that the American was wearing a pair of jeans and his sneakers. "...um why aren't you wearing your suit?" he queried.
America sighed irritably. "I could only the blazer." he said, holding open his old suit jacket he was wearing over one of his plain white t-shirts. "Have you seen Arthur?" he asked to the two of them, staring around the crowded hall.
"I think he iz at ze bar." France said, glancing back behind him, he was sure he'd spotted the Brit's messy blond head somewhere near there whilst he was dancing with the Canadian. He grinned at America, waggling his eyebrows. "What are you doing to do?"
"What do you think?" America snapped rudely, pushing past the two of them he didn't seem to care what they were up to as he stalked through the crowds towards the bar.
France pouted slightly. "Hmph, don't understand ze need for ze attitude." he muttered.
Canada watched him go, smiling slightly. "He's just nervous, if he's about to do what I think he's about to do..."
France smiled, squeezing his hand. "Come on mon cher, I don't want to be around for zis..." before Canada could say anything else he led them through the double doors and along a deserted school corridor.
America managed to break his way through an annoying gang of giggly girls to reach the 'bar'. It was just a couple of tables lined with cups of punch and soda being manned by some of the school dinner ladies, but sure enough England was there, sipping his drink and looking incredibly bored. The American stopped just behind him, clearing his throat slightly. "Arthur..."
The Brit turned around with a look of surprise. "Alfred? What are you doing here?" he asked in slight amazement.
America shoved his hands into his pockets. "...I came to see you." he muttered, shrugging slightly.
England still looked bewildered. "How'd you get in? You weren't invited were you?"
"Well...you kinda invited me." America said slightly awkwardly, taking England's plus one out of his pocket to show him.
England stared at invite in his hand. "Where the bloody hell did you get that?" he demanded before realisation filled his face. "I knew someone stole it from me!" he snapped, glaring at the American.
"Hey I didn't steal it alright?" America said defensively. "Francis did, and he gave it to me...and it's not like you would have actually given it to anyone anyway!" he added, quite annoyed.
England looked slightly flustered. "I might have! Anyway what gives you the right to use it knowing it's stolen? And to come dressed like that." he said with a raised eyebrow at the American's casual attire.
America sighed in frustration. "Oh you know what? I came here tonight to say something nice but maybe you don't even care."
England took a deep breath, sighing softly. "Okay, okay...what did you want?" he asked calmly.
America suddenly looked quite uncomfortable, shuffling his feet across the floor. "...I wanted to tell you...I mean to ask you to stay." he said softly, avoiding the Brit's eyes.
England seemed confused. "...what?"
"Look I know this country isn't your home or whatever, but that's no reason to leave!" America insisted, forcing himself to meet the Brit's eyes. "I mean you may think there's nothing worth staying here for but what about your friends? What about...what about me?" he asked, eyes growing suspiciously bright.
England stared at him. "Alfred-"
"I know I've been awkward and stuff but that's only cause I wasn't sure what I was feeling but..." America swallowed slightly, placing his hands on England's shoulders "Arthur I don't want you to leave, please stay." he murmured softly, going slightly red.
The Brit's confused facial expression didn't change. "Alfred...I have no idea what you're talking about." he said with a shake of the head.
America groaned in frustration. "I'm talking about you going back to Britain! And how I don't want you to go!" he cried with annoyed upset, suddenly yanking him closer towards him, causing the Brit's drink to spill all over his hand.
England placed the cup down on the table, shaking his hand dry. "But I'm not going back to Britain..."
America suddenly let go of him. "What?"
"I'm not going back, at least not until I'm done with my education that is, why would I leave when I've already applied at the local college?" England asked, tilting his head to the side in confusion.
America stared at him. "You're not...but...but Francis said..." he stuttered slowly.
"What did Francis say?" England asked.
America's face slowly went red as he realised what had happened. He'd been tricked. France was probably having a right old laugh at his expense. He grit his teeth. "That son of bitch lied to me!" he hissed, spinning around to yell at the crowd. "Francis! You will die for this!" he yelled despite the fact he couldn't see the Frenchman anywhere, however he did startle a group of young ladies near by who took cautious steps back.
"He told you I was leaving?" England said softly from behind him.
America blushed heavily, clutching the back of his neck without turning round. "Yeah look just forget it okay? I've made a total ass out of myself and now I'm gonna go home and kill myself." he muttered before darting back into the crowds, trying to get away from the Brit as quickly as possible, his cheeks now flaming red.
England sighed softly, "Alfred wait..." he called, going after him, passing all the slow dancing couples, one of which included Germany and Italy, to emerge from the other end of the hall where he saw the American hurrying out of the double doors. England jogged after him, he only closed in on America as they reached a dark deserted corridor full of lockers. "Alfred!" the Brit shouted, grabbing his wrist roughly he yanked him back round to face him.
"What?" the American snapped, tugging himself free of the Brit's grasp. He was thankful for the darkness of the corridor hiding the embarrassment on his face.
England looked at him sadly, smiling just slightly. "Why are you running away from me? Look for what it's worth I...I find it quite sweet that you came all the way here just to tell me not to leave." he said softly.
America nodded, folding his arms across his chest. "Right. Not that it means anything to you..." he muttered coldly.
"Alfred why are you being like this?" England asked with a sigh
America glared at him. "Why am I being like this? I dunno maybe because I have a crush on you? And you know that I have a crush on you yet you clearly would rather go out with my little brother!" he was almost yelling at the Brit, his voice wavering as he spoke. "The only reason you can't is cause he's with Francis but hell you'd probably rather hook up Kiku again then even think about going out with me!"
"Alfred you don't know what you're talking about, I'm very attracted to you."
"Hell even Francis would probably get a look in before me! Wait what?" America stopped and stared vacantly at the Brit as his words registered in his mind.
England shook his head, blushing slightly himself. "You really are dim sometimes Alfred." he muttered softly.
America blinked slowly, "But...why? I mean..." he furrowed his brows in confusion. "...what about Mattie?"
"Matthew is very sweet." England agreed. "But come on, are you really so blind?"
"No...no I'm not, you never gave any hint that you..." America muttered, swallowing slightly. "...liked me."
England sighed slightly, running a hand through his messy locks. "Alfred we've been friends for a really long time..." he said softly, resting his hand on America's arm. "...and I didn't want to spoil that with some silly infatuation, but knowing that you feel this way about me..." he trailed off, shrugging slightly. "I don't know...I just want things to be okay between us again."
America blinked slowly a few times. He nodded, anxiously reaching for the hand that was resting on his arm, heart drumming unsurely. "I do too..." he muttered softly.
England smiled, taking America's hand properly. "Hey, do you want to get out of here? I mean prom isn't really my thing anyway..."
"What were you thinking?" America asked with a grin.
"Come back to mine?" the Brit suggested, "Watch a film, get a pizza or something."
"Yeah...sure." America smiled, giving his hand a slight squeeze, causing himself to blush. He caught the Brit's eyes and they both laughed awkwardly. "Right well, let's get going then." the American reached for the nearest door and pulled it wide open.
"Alfred that's a...closet..." England and America stood staring with wide eyes and gaping mouths. The American had indeed opened the door to a closet, a closet used by the caretakers to store their mops and buckets. But instead they saw something that left them both speechless. France and Canada were inside said closet, lips pressed against each, their tongues wresting together; France was half naked from the waist up and his hands were shoved right the way down the front of Canada's pants. The Canadian's own hands were nestled on France's behind, squeezing firmly.
After a few moments they realised they were being watched and they broke apart from the kiss to stare at the intruders. America couldn't distinguish between shock and fury, but before he had the chance to act France smirked and said. "Sorry boy, zis room iz taken." before grabbing the door handle and swiftly shutting the door on them.
England almost burst out laughing at the look on America's horrified face. "Dude...the fuck?" he breathed, eyes wide behind his specs.
The Brit smirked slightly, grabbing his hand again. "Come on let's go." he began tugging America back down the corridor, the American's feet trailing slightly on the floor as he stared back at the closet door.
"I feel like I should do something."
"Like what?" England asked as they reached the entrance.
"I dunno...punch Francis in the face or something?" America suggested with a twisted smile as they started making their way across the grounds to the Brit's car.
England snorted slightly. "Alfred don't worry about Matthew, I know Francis seems like a total pervert, and maybe he is, but he's not a rapist...anything he and Matthew end up doing tonight will be completely consensual."
"I told him he has to come home a virgin." America said firmly, blushing slightly as he realised he and the Brit were still holding hands.
England smiled, shaking his head. "Alfred you're brothers dating Francis now, being a virgin isn't an option."
Probably one more after this but it's pretty much come to a close
Reviews are love :)
