A/N: Well now that finals are over I have more time to write! Apologies in advance for spelling/grammar errors.

Thanks so much to everyone who has left a review! They mean so much to me :)

***Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or any of the characters. I am making no money off of this fic.

***Warnings: Yaoi, Language, Gilbert and Alfred being assholes

Chapter 11

Monday came as quickly as the weekend had passed. Ivan found himself suddenly feeling nervous as he entered the school doors that morning. He didn't see Gilbert and was secretly glad. Thinking back to dinner in his apartment he wondered how Gilbert would react. Last time he thought they shared somewhat of a sentimental moment the German's torments only increased. He clutched his sketchbook to his chest thinking about the portrait on the inside. He sighed as he turned into his world history class and took a seat. Thankfully he wouldn't have to focus much this week considering they were reviewing the treaty of Saint Petersburg. He had learned about the treaty between Russia and East Germany, or Prussia as it was at that time, back in middle school.

As he sat in his usual seat in the back of the classroom and found himself anxiously waiting for Gilbert. Soon enough, the albino walked in with an unreadable expression. When he took a seat he didn't even turn to insult Ivan like usual.

"G-good morning Gilbert," the Russian said hesitantly. The German seemed to snap out of his trance and a heavy blush appeared on his face.

"Hey!" He said a little forced. Gilbert cursed himself for acting so unawesome around his enemy. Well enemy was a harsh word. To be honest, he didn't really know what Ivan was to him anymore. He hated feeling like this. He hated not having control over his own emotions. He hated the way Ivan was smiling at him. He hated himself. He hated everything.

Their teacher began to pass out the days homework, luckily they had the class period to work on it so he wouldn't have to worry about it at home. Gilbert slid the paper towards himself and groaned. He knew absolutely nothing about the history of fucking Russia. They lived in America, why did they have to learn this shit anyway? Lucky, or unlucky, for him, the person next to him seemed to know a whole lot considering he was almost done with the worksheet.

"H-hey Ivan..." Gilbert started shakily.

"Yes Gilbert?" The Russian didn't even look up from his paper.

"Umm," for some reason, the German was beginning to feel self-conscious. "What's the answer to the first one?"

"We went over it last week, don't you remember? After the treaty was signed, Tzar Perter III offered Frederick the Great the assistance of 18,000 men." Ivan recited it like it was nothing. Gilbert hastily scribbled '18,000' in the blank space on his paper.

"What about number two? When was it signed?" Gilbert asked again, throwing his pride out of the window.

"May 5, 1762."

"Thanks, man, how about number three-"

"Do your own work, ok?" Ivan interrupted him. "You should have payed attention in class last week, we're being tested on this stuff Thursday."

Gilbert scoffed and stared down at his paper in anger. Couldn't the stupid Russian just help him? This shit came easy to the fricken Yeti yet Gilbert didn't understand a word of it.

"Stupid Yeti," he grumbled. He found himself not putting much fire into his insult though. He didn't have the energy. The albino unconsciously tugged the sleeves of his jacket down. He had broken down the night before. He told himself he wouldn't cut again but it was all too tempting. His father asked him to help clean up from the party and he had accidentally broken a pretty expensive urn or some shit. At least it didn't have his grandmother ashes in it. That didn't stop his father from labeling him a useless piece of shit. He really was useless, he couldn't even answer these simple questions. His face was red with anger and frustration and he could feel the tears brimming in his scarlet orbs. Ugh, he was doing it again. He was wallowing in self pity and depression. He should just kill himself now and get it over with. He slipped a finger under the hem of his sleeve and dug a nail into one of his fresher cuts. The pain helped soothe his rage.

"Gilbert are you ok? You look like you're about to cry." The Germans head snapped up to see the Ivan's concerned filled violet eyes. His mouth was set into a slight frown and his thick eyebrows were furrowed in worry. Gilbert just stared at him wide eyed. He didn't even notice the single tear that ran down his cheek. He blushed, but didn't lean away when Ivan reached out and gently wiped it away with his thumb. His hand lingered on Gilbert's face for just a split second longer than necessary. The Russian retracted his hand as he realized what he was doing and turned away. He tried to hide his blush in his scarf and wouldn't meet Gilbert's eye. The sight was honestly so cute a small, the albino emitted a small laugh. He quickly rid his eyes of tears and picked up his pencil.

"Gott, I'm from Germany and I don't even know this shit." Gilbert sighed, his cheek felt warm from Ivan's touch and it tingled slightly.

"I learned this back in Russia, I'm pretty good when it comes to history. I-" he stopped himself not sure if he wanted to go through with what he was about to say. "I could help you if you want. I mean like a tutor, not just give you the answers."

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit. Did he really just say that?

The question caught Gilbert by surprise. Ivan actually wanted to help him? He was honesty touched and surprise that he would propose such an offer after how much of an ass Gilbert had been to him before. Maybe this was his chance to make things right.

"You know, I would actually really appreciate it." Gilbert said, not looking at Ivan.

"Really?" Ivan was shocked that Gilbert actually agreed. "You can come over tomorrow and Wednesday after school and I could help you prepare for the test." Ivan worked late Tuesday and Wednesday this week so it would fit perfectly into his schedule.

"Sounds good, meet me by my truck after school tomorrow." Gilbert said.

The ball rang signaling the end up class. Ivan and Gilbert both packed up and went their separate ways without another word.

Lunch rolled around and Gilbert was determined to try and reconnect with his friends.

"Gil, dude! What's up?" Alfred's voice caught his attention as the blond waved him over to their table. Francis and Antonio were already seated along with Lovino and two boys he didn't recognize very well. One had impressively thick eyebrows and the other had chin length blond hair and glasses.

"The awesome me has graced you with my presence!" Gilbert announced loudly as he arrived at the table. The others just laughed at his antics.

"Monsieur Gilbert, this is Arthur Kirkland," the Frenchman said, rolling the r's in his name. Gilbert had seen the Brit around school and was all too aware of his short temper and infamous eyebrows, he had just never talked to him. He didn't really care about Francis's new bitch.

"Nice to meet ya bushy brows," the albino teased. Across the table, Alfred erupted into a fit of laughter and Francis cover his mouth to stifle a giggle. Meanwhile Arthur sent them both menacing glares.

"You stupid frog!" The blonde yelled at Francis. "Why did you even drag me to this god forsaken table anyway?"

"AH, but Arthur," Francis sighed, slinging his arm over the Brit's shoulder. "It is only a matter of time before you confess the feelings of desire you hold for me." Arthur blushed bright red and narrowed his eyes.

"Never in your wildest dreams you stupid git." He whispered dangerously. The act only seemed to encourage the Frenchman more as he hugged Arthur around the neck and peppered his face with kissed and gushed about how 'absolutely irresistible' he was. Gilbert just rolled his eyes, ignoring the bickering, and turned to the kid sitting next to Alfred.

"So who's this?" He asked the American.

"Dude, this is Matthew he's literally been sitting at our table all week." Alfred said slightly annoyed. "Seriously how does no one notice him?"

"I-it's ok Alfred, I don't mind." The boy spoke in a timid voice.

"Oh well it's nice to meet you," Gilbert said as he took a seat beside Antonio. The Spaniard was inviting Lovino to some sort of tango class, the Italian quickly denied the invitation though everyone knew he would show up anyway. He looked to Arthur and Francis, still bickering but dropping an act of affection every now and then. Alfred was boasting about something stupid he did and was really getting into detail as he recounted his story to Matthew. The blond seemed to listen immensely well considering whatever Al said mostly went right over other people's heads.

God everyone at this table was so gay. Including him.

He learned back with a sigh and his scarlet eyes landed on a table in the back of the lunch room. There sat Ivan with the four boys he normally ate lunch with. They were smiling, even laughing at something the Russian said. He found himself spacing out as he stared. He began to notice just how attractive Ivan was. He had a strong nose and jawline. His eyes were soft and kind, yet full of wonder and curiosity. His beige-blond hair looked so smooth as it laid across the pale skin of his forehead. His smile, oh god his smile, it was so gently yet held so much meaning. His lips looked so soft, Gilbert wondered just how soft they were, he wondered what they would feel like pressed against his own. He found himself wondering how well their bodies would fit together. How well they would-

"Gilbert!" Francis jolted him out of his dream like state and he blushed heavily, embarrassed by his own thoughts.

"What?!" He asked slightly irritated. Francis shifted his gaze between him and Ivan, an all knowing look on his smug face. Gilbert's blush darkened as he looked anywhere but the the Frenchman. Once Francis had made up his mind about who he thought you had a thing for, there was no stopping him.

"Whatever," Gilbert mumbled in defeat.

"God I'm bored," Alfred outed as he crossed his arms over his chest. The German noticed the timid boy was no longer at the table.

"Where did, uh," damn what was his name again? "The other kid go?" Good enough.

"Matt went to his next class, let's go bother Ivan or something." Alfred stood from his seat followed by Francis, Arthur and Antonio. Gilbert froze, the though of bullying Ivan hadn't even crossed his mind all day. He didn't actually feel the need to anymore. Then again, he had a reputation to uphold.

"As much as I love a good laugh, you idiots are digging your own graves," Arthur said as he turned to walk the other way. "I don't want to be involved when he finally snaps." He waved goodbye over his shoulder and went towards his next class.

"I'm not going anywhere near that bastard," Lovino added. "Who knows what he's planning, I can see the crazy in his eye. Don't you remember what he did to Gilbert last week?" All eyes were on the albino now.

"What." He stated plainly, feeling his confidence return. "You think I can't take that fat ass on?" He smirked. Alfred was already on the move so Gilbert decided he had no choice but to follow.

Lunch was almost over and Ivan had enjoyed his usual conversations with Toris, Felix, Eduard, and Ravis. He was rather amused to find out that after Felix's constant complaining, Toris had finally caved and now made a lunch for him everyday. Toris's poetry just seemed to get better by the day. Eduard, of course, had straight A's. And Raivis had gotten the solo he auditioned for in choir.

"So how are things with Gilbert?" Toris asked. True to his word, Ivan hadn't mention Gilbert's flute or their encounter at the park. In fact he hadn't mentioned anything about Gilbert recently. He briefly thought back to the dinner they shared at his house and sighed.

"Well, I've gone from his target to his tutor," he answered.

"Ha! That's gotta be like, a huge blow to his pride." Felix scoffed, munching on the sandwich Toris made him.

"Ya he really struggles with history, luckily we're reviewing Russian history so it's not a problem for me. I actually offered to help." His cheeks flushed slightly.

"Speak of the Devil," Eduard whispered adjusting his glasses. Ivan spun around to see Alfred, Francis, Gilbert, and Antonio coming towards them.

"Do you need something Gilbert?" Ivan asked with a smile.

"No, but I do," Alfred said cockily as he leaned towards the Russian. Ivan didn't hate many people, but the obnoxious American was definitely near the top.

"I didn't ask you." Ivan said, smile strained.

"I don't care who you're addressing, but I have a serious question for you," the blonds expression hardened for a second, peaking Ivan's interest.

"What is it?"

"I was just wondering if you were born on the highway," Alfred smirked. "Because that's where most accidents happen." He laughed at his own joke, joined by Francis and Antonio. Ivan felt the familiar feeling of embarrassment knot in the pit of his stomach as he looked at his hands in his lap. He just wanted to get up and leave, but that wouldn't be an option considering he got punched the last time he ignored someone. The Russian shifted his gaze to Gilbert and noticed something strange. The albino wasn't laughing. He wasn't taking a jab at him like usual, he wasn't even smiling. He had this look on his face that Ivan couldn't quite place, he almost looked uncomfortable.

"Wow Alfred," Felix chimed in, casually leaning against the lunch table. "Is your ass jealous of the amount of shit that just came out of your mouth?" Ivan couldn't help it, he burst out laughing. Even Raivis and Eduard let a few chuckles escape. Toris, however, just looked completely stunned.

"Shut up you faggets!" Alfred said as a last minute attempt to defend himself. Ivan immediately stood from his seat, his expression dark.

"Do not insult my friends." He said sternly.

"Gil, can you believe this guy?" Alfred said. The German's head snapped up at the sound of his name.

"Gott Ivan, just stop, you'll never be the man your mother was." He smirked, a bit of his old self returning. A pained look crossed Ivan's face and he wordlessly grabbed his sketchbook and left through the back door of the cafeteria.

"See boys," Gilbert boasted. "I've still got it." Antonio and Francis gave him reassuring looks, Alfred just laughed at Ivan's reaction. Gilbert looked to the boys seated at the lunch table. They all wore this sad, distant look. Even Felix just picked apart his unfinished sandwich, refusing to look at him.

Yep. He still had it. But he didn't feel like 'it' was such a good thing to have anymore.

A/N: This chapter didn't really turn out how I wanted but oh well. Ugh I'm sorry I'm bad at writing insult/fight scenes. God bless Felix. /causally sneaks in actual RusPrus historical facts/ (please correct me if I'm wrong)

Thanks for reading, next chapter should be out soon.

- Caramel-Buns