Author's Notes: I'm so sorry for the long wait! My academic life is getting all (#U(*&(*, but I'm hoping it won't get worse so I can at least keep up with the weekly updates on Thursday thing.
Imma try my best; that I promise you guys! :D
Before moving onto the chapter, I'd like to take this chance to thank EVERYONE for EVERYTHING! I wish I could say more, but I don't think anything I say will be enough to convey my full appreciation for everything you guys have done for me and all your kindness, so I'm just gonna say SUPER DUPER BIG THANKS! You guys seriously make me such a happy author; I grin at my computer screen because of how awesome y'all are. ;p
Anyways, I guess the best way for me to express my gratitude would probably be…shutting up now and giving you guys the chapter, so HERE IT IIIIIS--! :D:D:D:D
~o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o~
"Do something, man!" Alfred, grabbing Yao by the collars of his shirt, cried out in desperation, "This is all your fault! He won't even leave the office, damnit! How the hell am I supposed to live in peace when he's always here staring at those damned fish?"
Yao bit back a grimace, slowly wringing Alfred's fingers off. Glancing at the other side of the office, he sighed.
Without question, there stood Ivan, cheeks pink and eyes round with excited delight, mouth slightly agape in quiet laughter as he watched his beloved fish swim back and forth, some coming close to the glass to look back at him.
"Do you have any idea how scary it is to wake up at night to use the bathroom to see him standing over there? I almost had a heart attack!" The American was freaking out; "I don't even know how he got in here after closing in the first place! I locked the door before going to bed!"
The Chinese man being blamed looked back at him, and noted with concerned interest that, indeed, there were dark circles around the usually energetic blonde's eyes, whose hair was messier than usual and was significantly becoming more on edge as of late.
It didn't help that there hasn't been any more cases since Hedgewood, which was many weeks ago. Yao knew this agency wasn't just Alfred's job, but, most importantly, his livelihood, since after all, he literally lived here in the office. The American was thinner; he was stressed, and had to start being careful with his spending, which was hard because he liked to buy useless things on a whim.
Of course it didn't help that Ivan loitered around whenever he can to stand in front of the fish tank and stare at his little pets for sometimes hours on end without moving.
Needless to say, to an agitated American in a bad mood during bad financial times, that didn't help at all.
From what Yao gathered from Francis, who rarely comes to the office at all anymore since there was nothing to do, keeping the agency from bankruptcy was not the only thing Alfred had to worry about.
Arthur was ignoring him.
Yao was not informed of the details of what happened, but he was pretty sure it was a good guess to assume that it had something to do with Alfred's big mouth that always said too much.
Speaking of the British man, no one was quite sure what he was doing most of the time. Last time Yao had seen Matthew, who was living with the Londoner, he was told that Arthur constantly answered to phone calls from overseas and went away for sometimes days to do assignments he did not care to share with the rest of the team.
Yao was actually starting to wonder if Alfred's "Hogwarts" suspicion had been right.
"Damnit Yao, are you even listening to me!"
"Stop saying 'damnit', aru. I can hear you fine, aru…" Yao sighed, rubbing his temples; he did not need this first thing in the morning. Why was he the only one being shouted at anyways? Oh, right, of course…he seemed to be the only one worried enough to come check up on the agency on a frequent basis.
"I'll talk to Ivan now, aru…so let go of me, please." Pushing slightly at the American's hands, he left Alfred to his spot half-knelt down on the ground and approached the tall man still wide-eyed at the fish tank.
"…Ivan?"
Ivan turned; it was the first movement made by the man since he'd initially gotten there on that day.
"Yao! You came to see fish too, da~? Come! Come! They are strong and healthy!" Yao was immediately pulled into strong arms and shoved to the glass of the tank.
"You…are taking great care of them, aren't you?" Yao couldn't help but smile. It was true, the fish were full of life; they all started to crowd near the glass to stare back at the Chinese man in curiosity – a face they did not recognize.
"Your fish are quite smart too, aru…" The Chinese man blinked.
"They just like Yao very much, like me! I tell fish about Yao all the time, da~~" The Russian said.
Yao blinked once more, surprised. "…Ivan?" He turned his dark eyes upwards, and met the Russian's sparkling ones.
"'Yao is always very nice to me, and buys me nice things to make me happy; but Yao doesn't need to buy me nice things to make me happy, da~? …Yao always smiles at me too…Not many people take care of me the way Yao takes care of me; most people think tall people do not need to be taken care of, but that's not true! Yao knows that too; Yao cares about my feelings.'" Ivan paused. "…That's what I tell them."
Yao, eyes widening, did not know what to say. The Russian merely smiled back, looking a little sheepish.
"And 'Ivan likes Yao very, very much'!" Strong arms tightened around Yao's smaller frame and pulled him closer towards the broad chest behind him.
Yao blushed; "…Th-Thanks, Ivan…aru…" He tucked his hair behind his ears; it was one of his habits when he was nervous or flustered. "I…I like you very much too, aru…"
"…Oh for God's sakes! Get a room somewhere else!" Alfred exclaimed in exasperation somewhere behind them, but was ignored.
Alfred will survive one more day with fish-watchers…Yao thought, comfortable and warm in the Russian's embrace.
~o0o0o0o0o~
The doorbell rang, and Arthur dashed towards it. Skidding to an abrupt halt in front of the door, he took a deep breath, and, though he hated to admit it, hoped to whatever deity watching over him that it was Alfred behind the door, coming over to apologize with perhaps a cup of nasty mop water to make up for what he did.
Turning his eyes briefly to a nearby mirror, he tried once again to tame his hair and fixed his collars, which stuck out a little awkwardly.
The doorbell rang again, and, muttering under his breath about turning into the "narcissistic French bastard", turned the lock knob and swung open the door.
Funny how life worked; in front of him, with a bouquet of red roses and dressed as if the definition of a fop, stood the "narcissistic French bastard".
"Bonjour, Arthur!" Francis gave a bright grin.
The door was slammed in his face.
Muttering and angry at himself for being an idiot for feeling disappointed, the British man stomped away.
"…Arthur?" A voice called out from the kitchen; "Who was it?"
"No one!" Arthur snapped an answer, plopping down onto his favourite chair in the dining room.
Matthew stuck his head out, a small, confused frown on his face. Wiping his hand clean on a paper towel, he walked to the door, giving his cousin a few looks before opening it once more.
"…Mon amour!" Francis gave another bright grin.
"-Francis!" The Canadian gasped, eyes lighting up immediately, "You-You're here awfully early!"
Just as Francis was about to reply, Matthew held up a hand; "Hold on a second, please." Turning around, hands on his hips, he pouted at the back of Arthur's head; "Arthur! How could you be so rude? That was uncalled for!"
A snort replied to Matthew along with an angry page-flipping of newspapers.
"Honestly!" The Canadian huffed.
Chuckling quietly, more amused than offended, Francis gave a few, swift knocks on the door; "May I come in?" He quirked his head to the side.
"-Oh! Of course!" Matthew, turning around, blushed and opened the door wider.
Before he made to enter, however, the Frenchman reached out a hand and pulled the Canadian close for a peck on the lips. Leaning back slightly, he motioned at the roses, "These are for you, mon beau chéri."
"Oh dear…" The strawberry blonde blushed harder, eyes round and bright, "I can open a flower shop with all these bouquets you give me all the time, eh?" Giving a small, shy smile, he took the roses into his arms, hugging them snuggly against his chest. "Merci très beaucoup!" He said, standing onto tiptoes and giving Francis a peck of his own.
In the background, Arthur made a disgusted grunt; "For God's sakes, get a room somewhere else!"
Matthew turned around and stuck out a tongue; "You're just jealous, eh!"
To that Arthur kept quiet.
Inviting his guest in, the half-skipping Canadian placed the roses carefully down onto the dining table, and proceeded to find a vase.
"Would you like something to drink?" He called out to Francis, taking out a tall glass from the kitchen cupboard as a makeshift vase, since all the actual vases were already occupied by other flowers, and paused in closing the door of cupboard.
"I'm…fine, actually; don't trouble yourself." A smooth voice answered, and the sound of a chair being pulled back could be heard.
Walking back into the dining room with the tall glass half-filled with water, Matthew mentally sighed as Arthur was, as expected, glaring daggers over his newspaper and tea at Francis, who simply ignored him.
"It won't be troubling anyone," Matthew said, putting the roses into the tall glass, frowning a little as it looked like it was about to tip over anytime.
"…Your existence in itself is a bother, Bonnefoy…" Arthur muttered.
Choosing not to comment, the youngest of the three addressed his guest, "What are you doing here so early, eh? Not that I mind of course, just wondering…" He pushed his glasses up as they slid down a little.
"I simply want to spend some time with you before I drive you to work," Francis gave a loving smile, to which Matthew gladly returned.
Grimacing at the two lovebirds beaming at each other, Arthur cut in: "…This is sickeningly sweet; why can't you do this elsewhere, preferably not right in front of my face?" The third-wheel in the room wore a dark expression on his face, bushy eyebrows jerking in annoyance.
Sighing, Matthew nodded; "Alright; alright…I'll go get my things and we'll leave you alone to your tea, Mr. Kirkland." Giving a large, exaggerated bow and earning himself an irritated sniff, the Canadian threw off his apron and hurried to his room to grab his coat and bag.
Rolling his eyes good-naturedly at the "Don't get too intimate!" from Arthur as they left through the door, Matthew waved with a smile and bid his cousin goodbye.
Walking into the elevator, Francis inquired; "He still hasn't spoken to Alfred?"
"No…" The Canadian sighed; "He's extremely determined to get Alfred to come over and beg for forgiveness this time."
"Does Alfred plan to apologize?" Francis lifted up an eyebrow, "Despite of his careless attitude, Alfred is quite proud and self-justifying."
"I don't know…I haven't really been going over to the agency for the past little while," Scratching the back of his head, the Canadian felt a little bad, "It's been quite busy at the book café."
With a small "ding", the elevator doors opened to the ground floor, and the two walked out.
"Why do you insist to work so hard, Matthieu? From what I've gathered, Arthur can easily afford everything, non?"
"Yeah…But I'd feel bad if I don't at least pay for half of the rent…" They exited the apartment building, and Francis wrapped an arm around Matthew's waist to lead him to where the car was parked.
It wasn't long before they reached the sleek-looking vehicle.
"How does Arthur support himself?" The Frenchman asked, curious, as he held the passenger door open for the Canadian, "It appears that he doesn't worry about finances at all."
"Arthur's family is very wealthy, one of the oldest in Great Britain I heard," Matthew explained after thanking Francis for opening the door for him. Settling into his seat, he looked up, "They were generous with helping me with my schooling and things after my parents passed away." He blinked; "Though they were always overseas, they made sure I was well looked after." He gave a small smile.
Francis nodded, and, leaning in to give the seated man a kiss on the cheek, he closed the door. Walking around the car to the driver's side, he wondered about the other man's family life.
Matthew didn't like to talk about his parents, so he knew close to nothing except that Mr. and Mrs. Williams passed on when Matthew was just a toddler.
He wasn't even quite sure how they passed on, but did not want to be nosy, especially not when the strawberry blonde got upset every time he thought about them.
Opening his own door and sitting down into the car, he was pulling out into the street when Matthew voiced a question.
"What about you, Francis? You don't seem to be worrying over money either."
Giving a soft hum, he answered with: "I've always been quite fortunate."
Matthew blinked when nothing else was added to the statement. While he didn't inquire further, thinking it was impolite to press on, he wondered.
Regardless of how in love with himself the Frenchman proclaimed to be, he talked very little of his family and personal life, especially during the time when he was in France, and, when asked, gave lukewarm answers. It was strange, since he was very proud of his French heritage, as well as everything that had anything to do with his home country.
Their conversations always ended up revolving around Matthew, and, despite of how embarrassed and unused to being the center of attention the younger man usually was, Francis had such a smooth way of talking that it made everything comfortable and natural.
"What about Alfred?" Matthew decided to change the direction of the subject.
"Alfred?" Francis had a thoughtful expression as he turned the car around a corner; "…What I know about him I gathered from his complaints." He chuckled a little. "His father, according to him, is very strict and believes that everyone should make their own places in the world instead of 'leeching off' from their parents. Alfred never got along with elder Mr. Jones past the age of twelve, when he became old enough to start challenging his old man's domineering ways; last time he talked about his father, it was over a permanent cut of family ties."
"…Ouch. Isn't that kind of harsh?" Not that Matthew really knew much from personal experience how parents were supposed to be like, but, from what he learnt from his friends' families, he assumed this did not happen often.
…This might be why Alfred's uncle is so worried about him…
"Depends on how one looks at it, non?" Francis gave a comforting smile, though his eyes remained on the road; "Home is where you make it; the office is Alfred's home, which is why he is always there."
"…I hope we get a case soon; things don't look too good for the agency, eh?" Biting on his lips, Matthew looked down, fiddling with his sleeves; "If anyone, Alfred could use some cheering up. We all know Arthur isn't planning on doing that anytime soon…" He heaved a frustrated sigh; sometimes his cousin can be so dense…
Francis laughed a little, nodding; "Perhaps we should trick them into going to dinner with each other again, hmmm?" He suggested with a wink.
"Oh no! Please don't! Last time we did that it was a disaster! Sometimes I still get the feeling Arthur hasn't fully forgiven me over it yet…" Groaning, he plopped his head against the window of the car, which caused Francis to laugh once again and reach over a hand to ruffle his hair affectionately.
"I'm afraid I never learnt what actually happened between those two this time around…" He gave Matthew a curious glance as he retrieved his hand.
"I'm not too sure either…Arthur won't talk to me about it." The Canadian shrugged.
After a brief moment of silence, the Frenchman murmured, an amused, knowing smile in his warm voice, "…Do you plan to inquire about Ivan and Yao as well?"
Matthew tried to hide his blush; it was as if Francis could hear his thoughts. "Well…I'm—I'm just wondering, eh…? I mean…I saw Ivan a couple of times before, but not really recently…" I hope I'm not being too nosy…
"Of course, mon ange. It's good that you wish to learn of how your friends are." After the car turned another corner, the longer-haired blonde gave him a quick, encouraging smile. "…Ivan…last time I had a chat with him, he mentioned a job at a liquor store; he said they had good vodka. I didn't get a chance to talk much with him since he dominated our brief conversation with telling me about his fish – he speaks of them as though a proud mother about her children." Shaking his head gently, a strand of blond wave fell over his smiling face; "Yao has his own fortune-telling shop in Chinatown; you can find him there most of the time when we don't have any cases on our hands."
"Yao can do fortune-telling?"
"Oui, he can do many things."
As they stopped at a red light, Matthew turned to Francis and tilted his head to the side; "What do you do on your spare time, Francis?"
Turning to meet his curious gaze, the Frenchman's smile grew wider as his eyes held their usual shimmer; "Why I share l'amour with the world, of course!"
~o0o0o0o0o~
"Good evening!" Swinging the door open, Matthew jumped into the office, a big, happy smile on his face, holding up a bag as if a trophy, "Look what we brought you, Alfred!"
The American, sitting on the sofa with legs propped up on the table, threw the newspapers he was reading down and gasped, eyes widening; "Burgers?"
"Home made burgers!"
Alfred jumped up from his seat, gasping louder and round eyes widening even further, and sprinted to the Canadian, cheering loudly with a big, bright grin. "Mattie you're the best!"
"Actually, it was Francis who made them," Handing the bag to the anxiously waiting American, Matthew pointed to the Frenchman, who was just walking through the door.
"I didn't know you can make burgers, Francis." Alfred immediately took one out from the bag and began to stuff his face. Casting the fashionable man an impressed glance, he spoke with his mouth full, "Man, it's really good! You should open a restaurant; I'd totally go everyday!"
Francis lifted an eyebrow, "Anyone can make burgers, Alfred, but thank you for your compliments." He chuckled, shaking his head as the burger lover swallowed too much all at once and started to make strangled grunts, gesturing wildly at Matthew to bring him water.
"Arthur helped, you know," Matthew said as Alfred gulped down the water.
"Oh…Yeah…?" The other bespectacled man sent him a few careful glances, taking more bites of the burger quickly diminishing in his hand. "How's…How's he doing?" The American tried to sound casual, but failed quite miserably.
"He's doing alright." Matthew blinked, and waited for Alfred to ask more questions, but, to his surprise, the taller male merely nodded and turned away, slowly walking back to the sofas, looking into the bag at the other burgers.
"…I thought…he'd ask more questions." He said as Francis came closer and wrapped an arm around his waist.
"Alfred doesn't do well in chitchat, I'm afraid," Giving the strawberry blonde a nice grope on the butt and laughing a little in good humour at how the shorter male yelped and huffed at him with reddening cheeks, he suggested in a smooth, warm voice, "Let's not stand at the door, hmmm? Come, mon ange…"
Matthew was glad no one saw that little gesture, though, secretly, he wished Francis' hand had stayed there longer.
Shaking off the embarrassing thoughts, he heard the door being pushed close, and made his way further into the office.
He was going towards the sofas, but halted in his steps as he turned to the side of the room.
"Ivan?"
The Russian was, as expected, in front of the fish tank, smiling and murmuring in an endearing manner. He only turned around once to reply before his attention shifted back to his little pets; "Привет~~ How are you, Matthew?"
Wondering how the fish were doing, he excused himself from Francis' company and went to join the tall man.
Francis found a comfortable seat opposite of Alfred, who was munching on the burgers with such horrible and messy manners the Frenchman visibly winced, and started to berate him on the finer ways of dining in a smooth tone and small, graceful hand gestures.
"Don't tell me how I should eat my burgers." Matthew heard Alfred say through a mouthful.
Francis tutted; "You should add 's'il te plaît' after a request, monsieur."
"S'il te-yeah whatever."
Matthew muffled a laugh before addressing his Russian friend.
"I'm great! How are you and your fish, eh?"
"We are all very happy, da~!" The taller man looked down and gave him a big smile, eyes shimmering pleasantly.
"That's wonderful!" Returning the smile, he turned to the fish tank; "They're not as shy as when they first got here, eh?" A red fish swam by; seeing a new face, it turned its head to stare but ended up smooching the glass. As it swam away hurriedly as if embarrassed, Matthew gave a small laugh, tickled.
"Da~~ They are very friendly!" Ivan's expression grew warmer and brighter as he saw the interaction between the Canadian and his fish; he pointed at the red one as it reappeared from behind a rock, "He loves to give kisses."
"I see," Giving Ivan a playful wink, the strawberry blonde whispered in a slightly teasing tone, "You sure trained him well, eh? For who I wonder…" He nudged the Russian slightly.
To his amused surprise, the taller man actually blushed and looked away.
"I…I just want to be good to them since they are Yao's present for me…da…" He murmured, hiding the lower half of his face by nuzzling into his scarf, and shuffled on his feet much like a child trying to play secretive while being caught red-handed.
"That's very sweet of you, Ivan; I'm sure you make Yao a very happy man!" Matthew gave firm nods.
"Matthew…Yao is my friend, da?"
Then came a snort from behind them. Turning to the source of the noise, they saw Alfred and Francis watching them, while the former chewed on his mouthful of burger.
"Yeeeaaaah, Ivan, everyone knows he's your 'friend'." At Francis' disapproving glance, the American swallowed before speaking again; "And the two of you can to be 'great friends' together forever!"
"At least that is better than how you are with Arthur, da?" Ivan retorted.
Alfred blinked, and, indignation forming a pout on his face, sat up higher in his seat; "Hey! That's—" He paused. "-not…well…" His face flushed red in an instance, "-Shut up!"
Laughter rang inside the office, accompanied by Alfred's annoyed grumbling about an "ungrateful communist Russian bastard".
"Poor Alfred, don't be sad! Mother Russia will make you feel better!" Ivan, just to spite Alfred's comment, strode across the room and opened his arms wide, an almost leering grin on his pale face, "Become one with mother Russia, da~~?" Without warning, he pulled the blonde sitting on the sofa into his arms and against his chest quite tightly, almost suffocating the other poor man.
"Wha-AAARGHH—" Alfred struggled, protesting loudly and flailing about, pushing and kicking, "Get offa me! I will fight your evil regime like a true, American hero!" Matthew was amazed at how the bespectacled blonde, through all his thrashing, was careful to not drop his burger.
"You will never escape mother Russia, da~~?" Ivan only hugged tighter, and patted Alfred's messy head of hair lovingly.
Francis, shaking his head, chuckled, leaning his head to the side and into his palm; "I don't understand what is happening anymore."
Alfred managed to pull his head out from being pressed against the broad chest, and, trying to keep up the act and not grin, shouted out, "Noooo! This can't be! Your hug of communism is overpowering me!" Eyes squeezing together, loud laughter almost cut off his statements. "No! The hero always wins in the end!" He kicked harder with his legs, but ended up tripping his taller playful aggressor.
Ivan let out a small yelp of surprise, and stumbled, falling over and onto the slightly smaller-framed blonde he held insistently in his arms.
"-AAAHHHH!" The American hollered, sandwiched between the sofa and the larger-boned man, struggling increasing in force and earnestness, "No! You're going to squish my burger!"
"S-Stop moving, da! I—I can't—" The Russian half-whined and became a little flustered. Alfred's almost violent floundering about not only did not help, but also managed to make their positions more awkward and hard to get out of as limbs intertwined around each other and clothes got caught on clasps and buttons.
In short, the two became a tangled mess on the sofa.
Francis, noting the sudden change of events, began to straighten his posture as a delighted smirk appeared on his face, eyes sparkling in mirth and something quite hard to place. Giving a small hum, he mumbled under his breath: "Ahhh, oui... C'est beaucoup plus intéressant..." Long fingers tapping on smiling lips, he watched with keen, bright eyes as the two on the opposite couch battled to steer upright.
Ivan, perhaps annoyed with Alfred, started trying to counter the American's thrashing, which, expectedly, made things worse at a quicker speed.
Matthew, scratching the back of his head and walking closer, gave a weak laugh. "Now, Alfred, you aren't helping, eh…and neither are you, Ivan. Hold still." He approached the two, trying to stop the playful animosity from growing as violet eyes met shiny blue and their respectful owners started to wrestle each other.
"You're not gonna stay up there for long, Braginski!" Alfred, a challenging grin on his face, pushed with all his might to topple the Russian over.
"Нет! Я буду побеждать!" Ivan replied heatedly, bright eyes glittering madly and a smug smirk plastered over his expressions.
A few grunts and barked laughter later, Alfred's burger, being jolted by a sudden movement from the man on top, slipped out of his hand and fell onto the floor.
"-NO! MY BURGER!" Alfred's reaction was quite genuine as he mourned the loss of his most beloved. He sent the Russian an angry pout, though the mischievousness never quite left his eyes; "YOU'RE GOING TO PAY FOR THIS, IVAN!" With renewed energy, he let out a forceful growl, eyes flashing in victory as the bigger man, who did not expect his sudden surge of strength, stumbled and lost his balance.
Ivan, yelping and cursing in Russian, was persistent, and brought the other blonde down with him as he rolled off the sofa, back thumping onto the floor and squishing the fallen burger.
"-NOOOO! BURGER KILLER!" Alfred's shocked face was comical, and Francis laughed. However, the shock did not stay for long as Ivan, catching this opportunity, used Alfred's distraction to turn their positions around, rolling on top once again.
Matthew, eyes widening, was suddenly aware that they were rolling towards him.
"Wait—Don't—" He didn't even finish his sentence when the entangled bodies crashed into his legs, and, scrambling and shouting in alarm, he lost his footing.
And fell on top of the two.
Alfred chose that moment to overturn the Russian once more, and ended up successfully pulling Matthew into the mess.
The Canadian, crying out in dismay, was pressed into the ground by not only Ivan's weight, but Alfred's as well.
"-H-HELP! FRANCIS! FRANCIS!" Shouting frantically as the duo still wrestled on top of him, Matthew felt the air in his lungs being forced out and could've sworn he heard his spine popping.
"-Alright, that is quite enough, mes chers enfants." Francis stood up, hands at his hips and looking strangely parental, though his expression was still that of extreme amusement and laughter, much to Matthew's annoyance.
"Help meeeee!" The Canadian whined desperately.
Huffing more chuckles, the Frenchman lightly swatted Alfred and Ivan on the head, "I will give you each a spanking if you do not stop right now, oui?" His voice was low and half-whispered, its velvety texture matching the twinkle in his half-lidded eyes, though, oddly, it was quite threatening as well.
"-Not until he admits that the hero wins!" Alfred barked out defiantly.
"Hmmmm…?" Lifting an eyebrow, Francis raised a hand.
There was a loud slap echoing in the room when Alfred cried out in shock and pain.
"OW! WHAT THE HELL FRANCIS!" Alfred, trying to pull away and accidentally wiggling his butt rather invitingly in the air, sent a wide-eyed look up at the Frenchman, "Where the hell did you learn to hit that hard? Ow!"
At the wide, leering grin directed back at him, he gulped: "Wait…I don't wanna know…"
Matthew, hiding his flaming red cheeks, was actually a little jealous of Alfred.
…Only a little bit!
"Will you comply now, Alfred?" Francis asked again, and when the American didn't answer right away, he raised his hand menacingly.
"-Okay! Okay! Geez…Don't get your panties in a twist…" Mumbling under his breath, the top-most blonde tried to get his limbs out from the heap, but, after many tries, found that he couldn't. "Uhhh…I'm kinda stuck…" Squinting, he tried to see how to untangle himself with his lopsided glasses.
Ivan looked up at him with round eyes, blinking innocently.
"Don't worry, mon ami; I will help you." Humming, Francis began to assess the mess, and, after a few silent moments, he began to instruct Alfred and Ivan to unravel themselves.
Taking a deep breath and reveling in the feeling of his lungs expanding again, Matthew got up from the floor, being led up by a helping hand from Francis, though, in truth, it wasn't really needed, but the gesture was sweet. Dusting his sleeves and pants, the Canadian, biting his lips and face flushed, pretended to not notice the Frenchman lingering an affectionate touch on his bum, patting off dust.
Ivan, not really caring that he now had a big smudge of sauces on his back from the burger he fell onto, started humming a song under his breath and heading back to his much-loved fish. "That was fun, da! We should do that again sometimes!" He turned his head slightly and smiled at Alfred, who snorted.
"Yeah, fun for you! I had to suffer through the pain of seeing my burger being squished to death!" The blonde sent a sad glance at the flattened, half-eaten burger, and sighed, grabbing the bag on the table.
"So…Alfred, I've been wondering, eh?" Seeing the American look up from the bag, Matthew continued carefully, "What…happened exactly, between you and Arthur?" Francis gave Matthew's clothes a few more gentle pats, and tilted his head curiously as well.
"I don't even know." Alfred sighed again, throwing himself onto the sofa and groaning. Taking a bite of his newly-acquired burger, he said, "Everything was going fine. I even made him laugh when I told him one of those stupid British jokes!"
That was quite an achievement, since Arthur seemed to have a permanent cynical scowl of displeasure printed on his face.
"Well, when did he start being angry at you?" Matthew sat down on the opposite sofa.
Francis settled down beside him, looping an arm around his shoulders.
Alfred chewed, screwing his eyebrows together in concentration as he thought back, "Uhhhhm…we were…planning a vacation or something. He actually asked me, you know!" Swallowing a mouthful, he continued; "He has to go to some wizard thing a couple of weeks from now, and asked if I wanted to go with him. I said I doubt I'll have enough money even by then, but he called me stupid and said he's gonna pay for everything 'cause he's inviting me. Usually I don't like letting someone else pay for me, you know, but…well…it's Arthur! He's inviting me to go somewhere alone with him! I can't pass that chance! I can pay him back afterwards anyways." At Alfred's enthusiastic exclaims, Francis chose not to point out how he wasn't going to be exactly "alone" with the British man since it sounded like an event of some sort. Besides, "alone time" with someone like Arthur was probably going to be dramatically different than with his cute little Matthieu.
The Canadian, on the other hand, was surprised at how forward his cousin was, directly asking Alfred like that. He, for one, didn't know anything about this "wizard thing". Thinking there must be a reason the Brit didn't mention it to him, – perhaps embarrassed at whatever happened next? – he waited for Alfred to continue.
"I was psyched! I was planning on taking my suits to the drycleaner's and everything! …But then he just got mad at me."
Matthew blinked; "…Wait—What? …That's it?"
"Yeah…" Alfred heaved another deep sigh, facial expression dropping to a dejected frown, and actually put down his burger.
"Are you…sure you didn't do anything else?" Unconvinced that his cousin would get angry just like that and ignore someone over nothing, he pressed on.
"I'm totally sure!" The American suddenly became heatedly defensive, "I kissed him too! And lemme tell you I am one good kisser." A proud grin made its way across Alfred's face; "He became all twitchy and embarrassed and so friggin' adorable! So I kissed him again and patted his eyebrows—"
"-YOU DID WHAT?" Matthew instantly leapt up onto his feet, eyes wide open and mouth agape. Even Ivan jumped at the sudden outburst, looking back with curiosity.
"-Oh mon Dieu…" Francis face-palmed.
"…What?" Wincing at the Canadian's sharp shriek, Alfred scratched the back of his head, voice slightly whined, "They looked so fuzzy and cute so I wanted to touch them! If-If you were that close to him you'd want to do that too!"
Matthew was so in shock he could barely think.
No, scratch that; he couldn't think at all staring in incredulousness at the oblivious (and absolutely incredibly STUPID) American in front of him.
"I…beg to differ, Alfred," Francis spoke up instead; "You are perhaps the only person who would risk his life doing such a thing. I'm surprised those monstrous things didn't bite your finger off."
Letting out a loud groan and falling back onto the sofa, Matthew put his face into his hands. "You're not helping, Francis!" Tilting his face up a little bit, he glared with all his might at the short-haired blonde sitting opposite of him.
"He's never going to forgive you! …And you deserve it this time too!"
~o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o~
Translations:
mon beau chéri – my beautiful darling
Merci très beaucoup! – Thank you very much!
mon ange – my angel (I don't remember if I used/translated this one before; chances are I have, but it won't hurt to translate it again XD)
Привет~~ – Greetings/Hello~~
Ahhh, oui... C'est beaucoup plus intéressant... – Ahhh, yes... This is much more interesting...
Нет! Я буду побеждать! – No! I will win!
mes chers enfants –my dear children
mon ami –my friend (Again, I might've used/translated this before, but yeah.)
Correct me if anything's wrong, please! D:
Ending Notes: The next case officially starts next chapter! This was kind of…building a bridge towards it or something? Yeah…XD
I just would like to say that...writing Ivan and his fish is one of the most fun things I've ever written - they're so adorable! –many many hearts– Writing Arthur was fun too; anyone notice he said the exact same thing as Alfred in the same morning? Haha! :D
I tried to show a more, for the lack of a better word, touchy-feely (and gropy) side of Francis, 'cause I mean, give the guy a break, yeah? He's dating his little Matthieu now, so he can do those things, especially since his little Matthieu doesn't really mind~~ ;p
I HAD TO SOMEHOW INCORPORATE IVAN'S "BECOME ONE WITH RUSSIA" IN HERE! I mean, come on, it's like, his thing, ya know~ If it's a bit forced, I'm really sorry about that; I really am, but I had to do it! ;)
Alfred and Ivan are such big children. Arthur's "wizard thing" will come back later on. I have to start planning things for the entirety of the plot now, and it's kinda confusing to be honest…((*&^#*
I'm thinking of writing 4 cases in total (I have a feeling the third and fourth one will be long…), with bridging chapters between them. There will be more Hetalia folks making their way into the story; three will be appearing in the next chapter.
I will give you two hints as to who they are:
- one of them plays an essential part in the next case
- the other two are married
…ok fine those aren't really hints but if I give too much it'd be too easy for you to guess who they are and take the surprise out of it XD
Anyways, sorry again for the lateness of this update, and sorry that there's no supernatural stuff in this chapter! ;_; I promise we're gonna jump right into the creepy starting in the next one!
Reviews are soul-food for a hungry author! …Don't make me dish out Matthew-puppy-eyes again :D
I seriously love you guys. –sniffles and hugs–
Ps: Say, if you had a fish tank, how many of y'all would love to wake up in the middle of the night to find Ivan standing in front of it? …and how many would get freaked out?
