First and foremost….Happy Awesome Day everyone! (March 10th) And i bring to you, chapter 3! I hope this gets the plot started, since this is one of the only serious stories i write (the other one could almost border on crack, i suppose, but not really ^^)
Thanks to: Umbreon12, ItalianBurgerBastardXD, foreversnowynights, BeautifullyMisshapen, Lilsandstorm, Nietzshce's bitch, alguien22792, shadowbird11 and CelestialCiel.
Enjoy!
It was two days after Arthur had caught up with the rest of the world, and the Brit was seated comfortably in a corner of the hospital library with a sizable stack of books which included several Sherlock Holmes mysteries, some Shakespeare, and other novels with some stray Keats and Tennyson. Being the Journalism major that he was, he did have personal goals to hold up to. Arthur flipped calmly through the current book he was reading as he glanced out the window. He'd been outside as much as he could the past two days, enjoying the freedom. The city had changed much over the span of 2 years and offered many new places for the Brit to get lost in. It had expanded considerably and buildings he searched for gone, torn down while being replaced by other neo-modern ones. He never really saw anyone, since they were occupied with their studies but he was perfectly content with wandering alone. With a sigh, Arthur read the last few lines of the extensive volume he was reading and gently shut the book closed. It had been a good one, though not one of the best. As he leaned over and reach for another book, a loud electronic tone shattered the air, nearly shooting out his ear drums.
'My hips don't lie~'
Arthur flushed furiously and dove for his phone, which was belting out the Shakira song at max volume. He fumbled to flip it open and found that the caller ID read: Le Tres Bien Moi. The Brit gritted his teeth as he brought the phone to his ear. When had Francis managed to enter his number into contacts AND give himself a specified ringtone? Arthur pressed the green 'call' button and spoke, waving away the worried staff workers who had come to investigate.
"Damn you frog!" he hissed into the phone.
"But Artie did you get my gift?" Francis' voice practically oozed over the line.
Arthur drew the phone away from his ear and held it out with 2 fingers. He frowned disdainfully at it, as if Francis could feel, or, rather, hear his annoyance.
"If you mean that horrendously loud ringtone of yours, then yes" he said dryly.
Francis laughed at his tone of voice. There was a rustling of fabric and a random burst of slightly accented French. It wasn't very good French, Arthur noted, definitely not as good as his own accented version. Francis replied in his own smooth native tongue before answering the Brit in english.
"Well, Angleterre, we're coming to pick you up tonight~" he chortled, a slight rustle signifying that he was holding the phone between his ear and his shoulder.
"What? Why?" Arthur asked in a surprised voice.
"Because it's movie night tonight, mon cher" the man replied as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
Movie nights. Really. Movie. Nights. The Brit deadpanned as he sighed and ran a hand through his already perpetually messy hair. Honestly, they were full grown men.
"And why, exactly, am I to attend this?" he asked.
"Cause you're our friend. And you've just returned from that awful tiny shell of yours that you've been holed up in" the Frenchman replied, followed by more random French.
Arthur scowled but sighed in submission. He'd hate to become such a loner, though that's how he'd spent the past two years. He should've been used to it by now but returning to human presence was a bit comforting, actually. He felt like a young child who'd been given the barest taste of something sweet, only to have it taken away from him again. But since he wasn't such a child, instead of the fits one would throw, he merely suppressed the incredible yearning to go chasing after it. But nonetheless, the yearning was the same.
"I…I suppose I could…" the Brit muttered grudgingly, eyebrows furrowing together.
Francis chuckled in that suave way of his and the phone rustled around for a moment.
"I knew you would" he said happily, his voice muffled by the pins he held in his mouth "We'll swing by the hospital no later than 7?"
"Fine, fine, fine. And no, I will not have you getting back into the habit of calling me 'mon cher' nor 'rosbif' again" Arthur replied shortly.
"Ah, but your French is as splendid as always!" the Frenchman crowed as he heard the familiar way Arthur curled his mouth around the French words, hinting the barest English accent "Now, cher, I've got some work to attend to so i'll see you then. All my love~"
"Goodbye, frog" Arthur said, rolling his eyes as he flipped the phone shut before Francis could.
Well, it wasn't like he could always let the Frog have the last word, now was it? He gently tossed the phone off to the side and leaned back into his chair. Goodness, what had he gotten himself into this time. He was never much of a movie person to begin with and he was sure that the movie choices were either to be a gory horror type with lots of killing blood and suspense, or a chick flick filled with undeniable fluff. He attempted to pick up a book and get started on it but it seemed that his brain wasn't able to fully concentrate on reading. His head was just too full of other things, which wasn't all too strange. His emerald eyes slid to look out the window. It was a beautiful day, really. The sun was shifting in between the puffy clouds that managed to hover in the air without the threat of rain and a slight breeze blew gently. It was warmer than usual and the change in weather was quite nice. He set the book back down on the stack he knew would be cleaned up and shelved after he left. A glance down at his watch told him that he still had a good amount of time until the Frog and his minions would come to pick him up and a walk seemed like a good idea. And so he left, still smiling every time he walked out of the hospital's automatic doors. It was a small freedom, to be able to walk out the doors of a building, but it brought him much more happiness than it should have. He would've laughed, if he saw fit to, in fact. He sauntered along as he usually did, without any particular purpose. He passed the shopping district and the offices and tall business buildings that lined the streets until they opened into a small park. As he did so, a pair of swing sets caught his attention. It was an obviously old swing set, the paint chipped off the metal and rust beginning to slightly form. It was part of a very old playground, one that had been here since he was a child. It was made of wood and sand. It was rather fascinating, to someone older, though it was obviously overshadowed by the gleaming new, multicolored, plastic play ground that the younger generation preferred. It looked quite lonely, actually. Arthur remembered when he was a child, when this particular park was the place he'd have the best memories. It was still bustling with people, as it had been, but that playground was now virtually abandoned. Arthur trudged over to it and resisted the urge to set a hand on the old wood, smoothed from age. He felt like a kid again. He gave the play set a light tap for the sake of good memories before moving out of the sand, to spare his shoes from the terror that was sand inside your shoes. By the playground, the green grass of the park opened into a shimmering lake. It wasn't a very big one, but geese still swam in it and it was surrounded by benches. Arthur's eyes softened a little as he smiled. It had been a very very long time he thought, since he'd revisited his childhood. He sat down, hoping he didn't look to awkward or lonely, and stared at the lake. He used to do that a lot as a kid, since his parents had said that the water reflected off his eyes. He liked to think of it that way. There was a quiet click and Arthur twitched, breaking out of his reverie. He slowly turned around and found that, to his surprise, he was facing Alfred. Well, the boy was just full of surprises, wasn't he? The American was dressed casually in fitted jeans and a navy colored hoodie, the word 'HERO' plastered obnoxiously across the front. In his hands, he held a Canon EOS Rebel T3i, with the strap winding around his neck. He grinned cheerily and waved as Arthur narrowed his eyes in suspicion.
"What was that for?" the Brit asked irritably as he swatted the camera away while he frowned, glaring at Alfred all the while.
The other chuckled as he came to sit on the bench next to Arthur. Arthur resisted the urge to scoot away.
"What, I don't even get a hello?" the American asked, flashing a small almost shy grin.
Arthur blinked. Well. He was certainly friendly, considering that they were practically strangers.
"Hello" he said in a short off-handed way.
Alfred laughed, his eyes sparkling intelligently as he gestured around the park. And yet was still as childish as ever, the Brit noted.
"So, what are you doing here?" the American asked.
Arthur shrugged. He would never admit it out loud but this lake was one of the few places he felt home at. It was a pretty place, the water a sheen of dark bottle glass green that highlighted the surrounding grass. His father had told him that once, long ago, when the water was clean, that it was nearly the same shade of pale sparkling green as Arthur's eyes. Green water? Arthur had asked. His father had simply laughed and patiently explained the growth of algae in the shallow water.
"I...was just taking a walk" the Englishman said in reply "And you?"
In return, Alfred held up his camera and snapped a picture of the Brit. For a moment, Arthur blinked confusedly until his brain processed what had happened.
"Stoppit!" he said as Alfred laughed.
"Camera shy, aren't you?" The American asked
"I am not!" the Brit said defensively, looking away "I...I just don't like...getting my photo taken"
"Soooo...camera shy" Alfred repeatedly ruefully.
"Sod off" was Arthurs short, if not slightly pissed answer.
Alfred laughed out loud at the Brit's response, a clear sound that drew Arthur's attention towards him. In broad daylight, Al looked even younger than his mere 19 years. The sunlight caught on his dirty blonde hair and the Englishman could now clearly see the almost permanent smudges on his glasses. His face, angled to the light, became sharper but the blinding grin across his face repelled the several years seriousness might have added. But the most defining feature, or so Arthur thought, was the American's eyes. Well, in the least creepiest way possible, that is. In all honesty, they were beautiful. Again, in the least creepiest way possible. They reminded Arthur of his childhood, of freedom. When he wasn't such a burden and a coward. When he still believed that love was the strongest possible power on the face of the earth, the span of the universe, When he was just too stupid to know when to give up. The gentle click of that oh so familiar camera going off again brought an immediate scowl to Arthur's lips.
"Wow..." Alfred said, looking through the pictures he's taken "...you make a great model"
Arthur groaned as Al looked over the camera. Really, if he'd used his brain in any other way than sneaking inconspicuous pictures of others, he actually might be somewhere other than sitting on a park bench with a once suicidal Brit.
"A model? We've just met, Alfred" Arthur replied in an overtly annoyed tone.
Alfred merely shrugged "To a photographer, all the world's his subject"
The Englishman simply rolled his eyes. When had Alfred gotten so deep about the ways of the world? It almost surprised the Brit, how easily Alfred had warmed up to him. They'd only met, what was it, a few days ago? And then it was only through mutual friends, even if those mutual friends happened to be Francis, Gilbert, and Antonio. They'd grown up together, so the friendship, though not taken for granted, came naturally to Arthur. But this boy, this ridiculously spastic child of a man, found no need to take offense to the brittle and harsh Englishman. He found no barrier, which the Brit had established very carefully over the years, to jump over. He was a strange kid, no doubt.
"Well, none the less, we've only just met. I'm surprised you even remember my name" he said wryly.
"I have a good memory!" Al replied cheerily as he tapped his temple with his index finger.
"I'm sure" was Arthur's skeptical answer.
"I do!" Alfred protested loudly, waving his arms around as he continued to voice his argument.
"Whatever you say" Arthur drawled in a lazy response, stopping the American from carrying on for much longer "Speaking of which, don't you have better things to do, Mr. Obnoxious Hero?"
"Me?" the younger blonde asked, blinking at the sudden change of subject "Well, I'm working on a class project"
"And you've got time to spare to sit around like this?" the Brit scolded, an eyebrow raised.
"Well, yeah! It's not like I can take pictures inside a classroom" Alfred responded, shrugging non-commitedly.
"Says the one who, I quote said 'to a photographer, all the world's his subject'" Arthur muttered.
Alfred pouted childishly, a slight whine escaping his lips. Arthur merely shot a glare in his direction, telling him to 'man up' and turned his gaze back to the lake. Apparently, his quiet little trip to his childhood would not be continuing, interrupted by this twat of an American. Life certainly was a bitch, offering the worst of its blessings at just the wrong times.
'Thank you, Life. Honestly, if I were married to you, I would be wondering why I haven't divorced you at least three times by now. Asshat pig' he thought darkly.
As the Brit vented, just a little, in his head the American at his side made no further comment. Alfred remained silent as he snapped pictures of the lake. He stood up and wandered for a moment, taking photos as he deemed fit and seemed to trail off into his own world. Arthur expected him to leave but the camera case that he left behind, being the only sign that he had even been there to begin with, signaled that he would be back. And so he did, returning after a lengthy trip.
"Did you get any good photos?" the Englishman asked politely.
"Yeah" Alfred replied, holding up the camera as he indicated the brightly colored though strangely abstract flower and patch of grass that Arthur could see. He sat back down to view his work, occasionally turning the screen to allow Arthur to get a view of whatever particularly good shot he'd taken.
"How did you get to meet them? The Frog and Antonio and Gilbert, I mean" Arthur asked suddenly as Alfred turned away for a moment.
"Them?" Alfred answered with a question of his own "Well, we met them when we came to the University"
"Hm…" Arthur hummed "You weren't always here, were you"
"Well, no" the American said, turning his eyes to meet the Brit's as he set down the camera "Why?"
Arthur blinked into Alfred's cerulean eyes, noticing how the sunlight brought out odd flecks of amber near the irises. Strange, he thought. It was barely a second before he realized what he was doing and he absently turned his own emerald eyes away.
"Honestly, Gilbert, Francis, Antonio, Elizaveta, and I have pretty much known each other for all our lives" Arthur explained. "You can't have known them for very long, yet they accept you easily"
"Well, I met the twins through Art school, duh, and I met Gil at some sort of club or party or some other random shit going on. And then Lovi met Tonio and from there on it went totally downhill" Alfred replied.
"Downhill? How so?" Arthur asked, feeling protectively irritated over the two's relationship.
"Um, I don't really know….Oh! I don't mean downhill in a bad way or anything!" Alfred hurried to correct himself, tripping over his words "….I mean that it's like, you know, once you get to know them, you're stuck with them for life! I'm glad we met them, honest, cause they're really awesome and all"
Arthur raised his eyes slightly at how much the young American was rambling. Of course, he believed that Alfred had no reason to hate or even dislike his close, albeit a little maddening, group of friends. It was simply too genuine, what they seemed to share. But what did irk the Brit was how sensitive Alfred was about Antonio and Lovino. God forbid, he was one of those absolutely ass-hat like twits who leapt at every moment to flame homosexuality. Arthur could tell that the American was discomforted about the relationship, though perhaps not the people themselves. What could it be? Honestly, Arthur didn't know. As Alfred continued in rambling quite nonsensically, Arthur waited for him to shut up. Which he did eventually, once he finally realized how awkward it was. Obviously, he was terrible at reading the mood, Arthur thought to himself, his inner voice sounding exasperated even to him.
"But becoming friends with them seriously made college so much better" Alfred said in conclusion, sounding somewhat pleased that he managed to tie off the loose string.
"You're only a sophomore" Arthur commented.
"But I really had no clue what the hell I was doing when I left high school" Alfred said, looking down at his hands, which were clasped together as his elbows rested on his knees. "Mat and I came from a really tiny town you know. Like, my graduating class was less than 500 people."
"But haven't you wanted to become a photographer for a long time now?"
"Um, not really. Mat already had planned out what he wanted to do and everything. He's always so organized and he knew exactly what he was going to do. But I just….kind of followed him" Alfred said quietly.
Arthur shot a sidelong glance at Alfred and was only very mildly surprised to find that instead of an annoying American, he found himself seeing a young man who had no clue what he wanted from life. A little sadness entered the Brit's emerald eyes. He'd never really known what he'd wanted from life. He'd tried, of course, but he found time and again that he really seemed to have no purpose.
"Well, you seem to be doing well now" Arthur said shortly, forcing his brain to be erased blank.
"Yeah…." muttered Alfred, clearly content.
Arthur rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. There was another one of those silences between them. Arthur made no attempt to fill them in, he never really saw the need to. It was only until Alfred's phone began ringing that it occurred to Arthur any time had passed at all. Alfred reached into his back pocket and pulled out a blue cased iPhone. He brought it to his ear and took the call with a quick 'Yo!'. Arthur could hear Feliciano's distinctive voice over the speaker and smirked as Alfred's face began to morph from a lazy expression to one of surprise and then annoyance.
"Shit! Okay, i'll be there in like a minute, bro!" he said, making sure to listen to Feliciano's last words before he hung up.
He leapt up from the bench, slinging the camera around his neck with considerable force. Arthur winced, fearing for its condition as Alfred tossed it around.
"I've got classes!" he said, beginning to move off in the direction of the Art school "I'll catch you later, Artie!"
"Don't call me that!" Arthur yelled, pissed, as Alfred laughed before sprinting off.
The American yelled something over his shoulder but the only thing Arthur could hear was his obnoxiously loud laughter. Arthur glared until Alfred disappeared from sight. It wasn't all too surprising that the idiot had forgotten he'd even had classes to begin with. Arthur dismissed the thought and sat alone for awhile. There was nothing but him and the trees, the lake, memories, and the gentle chatter of people in the background. He was used to it but the sudden disappearance of the sunny disposition who had been at his side only seemed to make the loneliness sharper.
'Oh, what the hell am i thinking' Arthur berated himself as he stood up, not quite being able to stand it anymore.
With a last glance back at the pond, he smiled at the rush of childhood memories and began the distant walk back to the hospital.
7:00 PM, University College Hospital
Arthur yawned, clearly bored, into the palm of his hand as he waited in front of the hospital. It wasn't all to cold yet he still managed to shiver in his thin jacket. It had passed seven quite a few minutes ago and the Brit was becoming steadily more annoyed. If they'd wanted him to come in the first place, the least they could do was be on time, ride or no. He tapped his foot against the newly laid concrete as he waited. He looked up at the hospital, craning his neck to get a better look at the building. From the outside, especially at night, the hospital looked metro-modern. It was all glass, steel, and glass tinted a shade of greenish blue. It looked very professional, Arthur though wryly. A loud honk brought his eyes back down to the street, where a sleek black car had pulled into the loop. The window rolled down and Antonio waved from the shot gun seat. Francis winked coyly from where he was driving, which meant that Gilbert had to be in the back. Oh joy. With Francis driving and Gilbert in the back to torture him, Arthur almost feared the ride there more than the actual movie night. Arthur walked briskly to the car and slid into the back seat, greeting the trio.
"Ready?" Francis asked, calling to the back.
Arthur snapped on his seatbelt, wondering if he should take further precautions. It had been a long long time since he'd been in any sort of vehicle. It was only grand luck that Francis happened to be driving. But then again, Francis was only a terrible driver when he wanted to be.
"Yes, frog" he replied shortly.
With a light laugh, Francis pulled smoothly out of the hospital and onto the road. They'd only been moving for a few minutes when, at Gilbert's request, Antonio turned on the radio and scrolled easily to the exact channel. Arthur yelped as horrendously loud techno-dance music blared from the speakers. And, of course, the entire trio began singing with the male lead.
"Ah, Girl look at that body! Ah, Girl look at that body!" Francis oozed, turning halfway behind in his seat at a red light to look at Arthur, a knowing smile splayed across his lips.
"I-I-I WORK OUT" Gilbert bellowed, laughter bubbling up. "I-I-I WORK OUT"
"When I walk in the spot, this is what I see" Antonio sang from his seat "Everybody stops and they staring at me"
"Got passion in my pants and I ain't afraid to show it" Francis said, taking the last line. "show it, show it"
"I'm sexy and I know it" Antonio finished, his voice practically melting into a chocolate puddle of some otherworldly voice that even Arthur had to admit surpassed the original singer's by far.
Arthur put his head in his hands and sighed. Honestly. It was going to be a long long ride. But the song only lasted for 3 minutes or so and he was saved of hearing the trio proclaim they were sexy and they knew it for too long. Arthur glanced up as Francis pulled the car to a stop in front of a large building. It was nice place, a much nicer place than one would expect of someone in their mid 20s.
"You've upgraded" the Brit said dryly as he stepped out of the car after Gil.
"Well, mon cher, it's not like Gilbert, Antonio, and I are poor" Francis replied as he promptly locked the car doors and checked for affirmation.
Arthur raised an eyebrow but didn't bother to comment any further. He supposed it wasn't all too surprising that the three were still rooming together as they had since they'd entered the University. Though, really, he couldn't imagine where all the money came from. Gilbert's family wasn't particularly rich and neither was Antonio's or Francis', though the Brit could say they were fairly well off. The 4 entered the apartment building through the main lobby, which was small but neat and clean with marble floors. They piled into the library and took the short ride up to the 3rd floor. Arthur was sure that it was no coincidence that the trio had managed to snag a room on that specific floor. When he caught sight of the number on the door to which Antonio was punching into the pass code to he was sure that that was no coincidence either. It was 143 and Arthur was sure it was Francis' doing. He'd be a little embarrassed to admit they he knew that the numbers 143 represented 'I love you'. It was so ridiculously corny. The door bleeped indignantly as the wrong passcode was entered and Antonio leaned back irritably.
"Oi, Francis" he said, and eyebrow raised quizzically "Did you change the pass code again?"
"No, cher! I'm not that evil" the blonde said in a tearful rendition of some dramatically pathetic persona.
Gilbert rolled his eyes, muttering something along the lines of 'that not what you said last time', and nudged the Spaniard out of the way as he swept a hand across the now black surface of the screen. Blue numbers immediately surfaced at his touch and he pressed in a code. The door opened with a happy series of dings and the door opened.
'Fancy…' Arthur thought as he followed the others in.
It was dark inside the apartment, save for the dim glow of a lamp and the reflection of the TV that was currently playing the beginning of some movie. Those who had gotten there before were already sprawled across the couch, the floor, and the lone armchair that occupied one corner of the spacious living room. Alfred and Matthew were laying on the floor in front of the TV, almost covered in the mound of pillows they had claimed and Lovino sat in the puffy armchair with his arms crossed. Feliciano and Ludwig were cuddling, much to the embarrassment of the German, on the couch. They all looked up simultaneously as the 4 newcomers entered.
"Hey guys!" Alfred said, lighting up as he looked up.
"Hello" Matthew said in greeting as he offered a shy smile through his glasses.
Arthur nodded and murmured a quiet greeting. Lovino merely gave a nod in return and Feliciano gave a preppy rendition of Matthew's hello as Ludwig muttered a gruff hello that was not at all unkind.
"So what, do you all come around often?" Arthur asked as he peered around at the people.
"Nah, it's just an excuse for Gil and Lud to drink" Al said from where he had stood up, tossing the Brit a beer "Nice to see you again Artie"
"Enough with the nickname" Arthur scowled as he snatched the bottled from mid air.
Al chuckled as he turned his attention back to the TV. Antonio, Gilbert, and Francis grabbed their respective drinks and found a seat. 'Seat; specifically meaning sandwiched between Matt and Al, flung all over the sweet Canadian and Arthur, sprawled on the couch with an arm slung around Ludwig's shoulders, or snuggling up to a flustered Lovino's side. Arthur managed to worm his way out from Francis' stray arms, leaving Matthew to be tortured, and found an empty spot of ground. Alfred was sitting next to him, laughing as he watched Francis and Gilbert tease his brother playfully. Antonio and Lovino continued the watch the movie, as did Ludwig and Feliciano. Apparently, it was quite normal for this to happen.
"Don't you get worried?" Arthur asked.
"Of what, Francey Pants?" The American asked, blinking through the light that reflected off the TV and to his glasses.
Arthur raised an eyebrow at the strange nickname but nodded all the same. Anyone and everyone should have been wary with of the Frenchman. Alfred shrugged nonchalantly.
"I think I can trust him. And if he does something, then he's knows shit will go down so, yeah" he replied.
Arthur sighed and turned his attention back to the TV, as Lovino began shouting at the others to: 'shut the fuck up and sit down, dammit'. Spain grabbed Lovi around the waist and pulled him back down before the fiery Italian went and killed someone. The others obeyed grudgingly and the room became silent, momentarily immersed within the plot of the movie. It was the second of Arthurs predictions, a chick flick. The scenery was bright and cheery and maybe a little to sunny to be entirely real. There was the lead man, a tall guy, brunette, well built and reasonably to heartbreakingly good looking. Oh, and there was the motorbike or nice car that was absolutely required. And then the lead woman appears. A beautiful woman, or pretty in the very least. Dressed impeccably in the latest fashions with sweeping hair and painfully high heels. The two meet, run across the vengeful fangirl or two, end up falling in love. In the middle of a particularly lagging part of the movie, Arthur heard, almost felt, Alfred stretch next to him. The American yawned like a cat as he sighed contentedly. He certainly seemed happy with the way the movie was going, though it could be totally predictable. Arthur supposed the genre admittedly fit the blonde's personality quite well. As much as Arthur had seen of it, anyways. The movie began to reach it's climax, the part when the main characters always make up after whatever spat they'd had before. When the two would find that, no matter what troubles and hardships came, they would always find love in the end. It was sweet in a bittersweet way. Arthur found that he was strangely compelled to pay full attention to it. He'd never been one for movies in general, much less chick flicks, but he couldn't seem to keep his eyes off the film. The room was eerily silent, all eyes on the TV. It was funny how all of them became so immersed in the film. Only after the very end, when the credits rolled, did the tension in the room release and they sat about in a slight daze, blinking as the lights flicked on. It was that strange in-between space after the end of the movie and before the return to reality where you simply floated. Arthur couldn't remember feeling as…carefree before. It was a nice feeling, to be sitting with friends. The others came around and blinked at each other, smiles gracing their lips.
"That was a pretty awesome movie, bro" Gilbert said as he rolled around on the floor.
"Non, non, it was…how do you say it…lacking in love?" Francis said critically There was no-"
Knowing what must've been coming next, Alfred dived for the Frenchman and covered his mouth. Just in time too, Arthur thought.
"Just because it's not R-rated doesn't mean it's a good chick flick" the American yelled, attempting to drown out his friend's muffled protests.
Francis wiggled around until he was able to speak again. Arthur winced, wondering what R-rated subject was about to sprout from his mouth. Gilbert and Ludwig attempted to get the Frenchman to shut up as Antonio somehow managed to cover up both the Italian brothers' ears. Feliciano giggled uncontrollably as the full-grown men wrestled between shouts of laughter. Gilbert had Francis in a headlock while Alfred was hoisting the man up by his feet. All of them were considerably strong and Arthur was surprised that the neighbors didn't call the police on the men. Eventually, Antonio threw himself into the game with a joyful shout and they all dog piled on each other with a painful thud. Just when they thought it was over, some genius began to tickle Antonio. The Spaniard, who Arthur knew as a major tickle victim, collapsed into laughter he was trying to hold in. The dog pile became a tickle monster fight and Feliciano promptly dragged himself and Lovino to the middle of it. The way the elder Italian was blushes made Arthur chuckle. No better way to integrate yourself than drag in your sibling with you. Speaking of which, Arthur remembered his earlier conversation with Alfred.
"Matthew" Arthur mused curiously "Is Alfred in love with Lovino or Antonio?"
The Canadian made a squeak of confusion, clearly taken aback by the strange question. Arthur flushed, embarrassed for asking such a dense and sensitive question. It was stupid, really, to ask the shy boy about who Alfred liked, just like a love-sick high school girl would but Arthur was curious as to how he acted. Perhaps the American wasn't the Gold Boy they all thought him to be.
"Oh no" Matt snorted in reply, vigorously shaking his head "Definitely not. Why?"
Arthur shrugged non-committedly. He'd hate to cause trouble between the twins, because, as he knew, most brotherly fights didn't end well.
"He seems a bit awkward about their relationship, so i wondered if he was in love with one of them"
Matt cracked a smile, which let Arthur relax. He was afraid that Matt would have flipped, since he did not appear to really go for guys. Actually, in all honesty, the shy Canadian was probably, while the most normal, the one that could've easily swung either way. And not like Francis' way either.
"Actually, it's exactly the opposite" Mat replied "Al's a bit of a homophobe"
A/N: And that's the beginning of the drama llama! And yes, our dear Alfie is a homophobe. You'll see later why and how he copes with it….but only if you guys give me a review! ONLY. OR ELSE STEVE WILL EAT YOU-/shot
(1) University College Hospital really is a hospital in London. I thought that name most fitting, since i just refer to the school as the 'University'.
(2) Those of you who know your literature may notice something USUK-y about the list of books Iggy was reading ^^