Another late night/early morning snippet as I try to build up the confidence to get back to writing. I hope you'll enjoy it! And reviews are always appreciated :)

Summary: America and Canada are on a road trip across England and have forgotten some important details.

Cultural Dissonance

His body was weightless, comfortably curled upon the leather seat. The hum of the engine was like a secure blanket, lulling him to sleep. For the first time in weeks, the tension had left Matthew's muscles and his body melted into a rejuvenating sleep. He felt like he could have spent the eternity just like that.

If it weren't for the obnoxious tap against his right shoulder, of course.

"Mattie Mattie~ Time to wake up~"

Matthew grunted and curled deeper into himself, hiding his face between the seat and the crook of his shoulder in a clear indication that he wasn't intentioned to abandon his rest.

Unsurprisingly, his tormentor didn't get the hint.

"Come on, Mattie! You've been sleeping for three whole hours, it's time to wake up! I'm bored!"

Alfred punctuated his words by turning on the radio full volume.

Matthew whimpered against the sound blasting in his ears, but an attempt to cover them with the collar of his coat proved futile. He was finally forced to uncurl his reluctant body in order to access the controls of the radio.

"Happy now?" he grumbled as he switched off the infernal sound.

Alfred gave a content hum of assent. His blue eyes looked bright and alert behind the glasses, his skin glowing and rested. There could be nothing further from the picture of a person who had just endured a transatlantic flight and then three hours of driving across English highways. Alfred was so lucky.

Matthew, instead, was still so sluggish he could barely put two words together, his brain a muddled mess.

"I wasn't disturbing you by sleeping…"

"But you've had enough sleep already! All the time on the plane, plus those three hours! And I've been driving in silence for-e-ver. Time to spice things up!"

Said that, Alfred once again turned on the radio – at a reasonable volume, this time.

Matthew would have wanted to retort that Alfred was the one who had slept on the plane, that three hours weren't enough to recover from how overworked he was… but there was no point, since Alfred had already made up his mind. Besides, he had decided on his own to be the one driving after noticing how exhausted his brother looked. Matthew owed him a bit of company.

With a sigh, he straightened up against the seat and rubbed his bleary eyes. Out of the windows, the English countryside ran along the highway. Small cottages and farmhouses sprinkled here and there in the distance testified the presence of civilization, but Alfred and Matthew were the only ones on the road. Well, them and an approaching vehicle, still only a small point in the distance but steadily getting bigger… and right towards them.

Matthew had a moment to take everything in. The car coming. The swapped, unfamiliar position of the driver's seat. The English road. And the car running towards them at maximum speed.

"What the fuck is that?!"

"Alfred, you idiot!"

Out of instinct, Matthew jumped toward his brother and grabbed the steering wheel. Together, they jerked the car into the left lane just as the other car passed by them, honking.

Matthew's ears were ringing.

"You can let go, Mattie. We're fine."

Matthew heard the words but he couldn't move, his muscles locked by the adrenaline rush. It wasn't until Alfred slowed down to a stop at the side of the road that his heartbeat slowed down. He still needed his brother gently prying his fingers away from the steering wheel before he could come back to himself.

"You…"

He had to stop, unable to put into words the mixture of fear and rage threatening to overwhelm him.

Alfred shrugged and offered him a thin, apologetic half-smile.

"Well, nobody got hurt so it's all fine and well?"

Matthew could have lost it right there and then. The fading adrenaline threatened to turn into blind rage, his muscle tensed in preparation… but they still had hours of driving left. It wasn't the right moment to bring Alfred to a breakdown.

"Get off. I'm driving from now on," he snapped, glowering at his brother.

He could still lecture Alfred and drive at the same time, after all.

Something good had come out the scare, after all. Now, Matthew was wide awake, the previous sluggishness just a distant memory. He was alert enough to drive carefully, enjoy the road, and chat with Alfred, whom he had fully forgiven one hour earlier. There was something soothing in the sharpness and repetitive motions that driving gave him, he wasn't in the right mood to stay mad. He was almost glad he had ended up being the one driving… Not that he would ever admit it to Alfred, of course. (Even if from the cheeky smile his brother addressed to him from time to time, Matthew was forced to deduce he knew.) Everything was going quite swimmingly.

Up until the flashing lights at the entrance of a service area signalled the presence of a police patrol.

Matthew dutifully slowed down a notch, a knot growing in his throat as he gave a quick check – he was driving just right under the speed limit, the lights and mirrors were correctly adjusted… everything seemed to be in order. But the anxiety only rose as a policeman signed at him to stop.

"It's just a routine control," Alfred reassured him in a soothing tone, offering his arm a squeeze.

Matthew wished he had even a tiny bit of his brother's confidence. However, he was aware he couldn't show any hesitation. Ignoring his thundering heart, he stopped in front of the policemen and offered them a smile as he rolled down the window. His driving license and passport were smoothly transitioned from his sweaty hands to the strong ones of a middle-aged, portly officer.

Matthew had checked numerous times before leaving, he didn't like creating disturbances by appealing to his status of personification when something went wrong with his 'human' documents. Everything should have been in order.

…Then, why was the friendly face of the policeman slowly contorting into a frown?

Matthew's throat was dry. He tried to smile as the officer raised his eyes from the documents to Matthew's face, but could only stare at the stern expression.

Alfred leaned over him to get a closer look.

"Something wrong?"

The policeman sighed and passed the documents to a colleague that had just reached him.

"Son, I don't know how things work where you come from, but you're in England now. And in England, we don't allow seventeen-year-olds to drive a car. I'm afraid you'll have to come with me."

That had to be among the most embarrassing moments of Matthew's life. He kept his eyes stubbornly trained on the floor, analysing the dirt caked around the tiles. Another curious glance from a policeman or somebody working inside the police station, and he would have died of shame. He couldn't believe he had overlooked such an important detail.

He buried his head in his hands when a pair of familiar footsteps approached him.

"Still pouting, Mattie?" asked Alfred, just back from his short trip to the vending machine.

He could have left at any time. Since he was of age, nothing was detaining him. But of course, he had decided to wait with Matthew and witness his humiliation, often adding to it with his cheeky remarks. Matthew wanted him gone.

And the worst part was still approaching – with another pair of familiar footsteps as an equally familiar voice talked with the same policeman who had stopped them. The words were clipped with irritation.

"Man, this is hilarious," Alfred declared.

Matthew wished the earth could swallow him.

His prayer wasn't granted. Arthur's steps finally halted and Matthew had to lift his head.

He immediately wished he hadn't. Arthur was staring at him with such a mixture of rage and disappointment that it physically hurt.

"I can't believe you, Matthew. I was so sure I could trust you to be sensitive… How could you be so careless?"

Matthew had no words to justify himself. He could only stare at Arthur and let the embarrassment consume him.

He had been so focused on Arthur that he had almost forgotten about the policeman accompanying him, who startled Matthew when he cleared his throat.

"Now there, Mr. Kirkland. The boy is far from blameless, but somebody must have allowed him to get his driving license. As his legal guardian and an Englishman who knows the laws of England, this was quite an oversight on your part."

For a moment, Matthew thought he must have heard wrong. He blinked, but the policemen was still standing in front of Arthur, with his arms folded across his chest as he stared at the apparently younger man with a stern expression.

Arthur's face bleached; his fists tightened in fury.

"Excuse me, are you trying to insinuate—"

"Priceless," Alfred whispered, offering a conspiratorial wink to Matthew.

Matthew dropped his face to his knees, his cheeks burning with humiliation. He would have wanted to retort that, by forcing him to drive, Alfred had been the cause of everything… pity that Alfred was clearly having the time of his life.

Why did everything always have to turn against Matthew?

(word count: 1536)

Note: There are reasons (based on canon material) I write Matthew as younger than Alfred and underage. I've written everything in details on tumblr (feynavaley).