Note: Mathias is the equivalent of Denmark. Because I bloody love that name.
IGNORE THE CRAP TITLE. IGNORE.
Hetalia does not belong to me, da? It belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya, da?
Potty-mouthed human personified nations (ohyes!)
"You've made a complete mess!" Arthur scolded the nervously grinning man angrily, "I did say that you weren't to cause confusion!" he separated each word more and more, raising his voice in annoyance.
"Oh, what? When?" Now Arthur heard the man speak, he noticed that he had an American accent. "I never heard anything about a mess" he looked down, hiding a cheeky smirk. The audacity of it! And even after Arthur had taken him in out of the kindness of his heart…
Just barely keeping himself from screaming at the man, Arthur started through gritted teeth "That's because you were lolling about, asleep on my parent's bed. I left a damn note." He stopped, allowing an uncomfortable silence while Alfred continued to try to hide a grin. At least he was trying to conceal it. It would have been beyond rude to laugh in his face. So Arthur continued: "And you'd better help with the tidying, seeing as you were the one who caused it." That wiped the leer off his face. Arthur threw a bin-bag at the now scowling blond with that blasted curl and simpering eyes
"Fine." He allowed an absurd mix of amusement, annoyance and surprise to invade his features, "Okay." He kneeled down and started to pick up the glass on the floor with his bare hands.
"NO!" Eyebrows rushed over to him and yanked him upwards, "You can't pick that up with your hands, you need a dustpan and brush! Imbecile, do you want to bleed to death?"
"Hm?" He watched Arthur move to the cupboard to retrieve a dustpan, disturbing the immaculately placed art supplies and cleaning equipment and making a satisfied grunt when he pulled out the two pieces of shaped plastic. Returning the moved objects with love, he handed it to the tall man, smiling smugly.
"Here you are. I assume you know how to use it?"
"Yeah." He bent down again and swept the mess into it, tipping it into the bag and muttering odd curses. He had an idea. He hated tidying up. So he stopped, acted coughing very badly and said "Oh, no. I'm still ill. You have to let me go to bed."
"No, twat. How stupid do you think I am? Get down and sweep up that shit. Keep doing that if you find any more broken windows." He pronounced the 'broken' very clearly, "I'm going to see how the others are doing." He began to walk off before stopping suddenly and turning around. "Oh, my. How rude. My name's Arthur Kirkland, by the way." He gave a brief smile.
"Oh, so you're Arthur."
"Yep. Don't forget it or I shall have to kill you." He swept out of the door quickly.
"Good luck with that." Alfred whispered under his breath. Nobody had killed him yet, why was this little man with the funny voice any different?
-o-
When Arthur got upstairs, he found that Roderich and Ludwig had tidied about thirty percent of the mess of various clothes; cereal that had somehow gotten up here from the box; toilet roll; water (where from, they tried not to think); the remains of The Sunday Times Arthur bought every Sunday, and chairs. Francis had been hanging about trying to molest anyone who turned their back to him. For this reason, he was currently stuck to the wall with copious amounts of duct tape covering his mouth as well as holding him stationary. Arthur gave one look and decided that he probably wasn't going to be released for a long time. Moving on, Elizaveta was trying to somehow get inappropriate shots of Tino and Berwald together, even though they were just steadily working at the small mountain of CDs of Arthur's favourite bands: ACDC, Pink Floyd, Deep Purple, The Beatles and Black Sabbath, piled up on the floor in a pyramid. He grimaced at how poorly his possessions had been treated and hoped that none of them were broken.
Gilbert was lying on Arthur's bed with a plastic crown perched on his head, being no help whatsoever. Arthur could have sworn that the albino carried the damned thing around with him, along with the bird the teachers always told him off for bringing to school. Walking up behind him (the bed faced away from the door), Arthur delivered a quick tap to Gilbert's head and a yell to the ear. Jumping and cursing, he heaved himself up and trailed off to do some work along with the others.
"Lazy bugger." Arthur shouted before marching off to help Roderich and Ludwig with turning his parent's bed back to its correct side. Heaving, they pushed it around and it landed on its base, like a bed should be. They patted each other on the back and started on the dresser that had been knocked clean across the room. How strong was this guy? It was almost inhuman!
The dresser was at about 40 degrees of elevation when they all heard a sickening scream bolt up the stairs and assault their eardrums. Arthur and Ludwid dropped the dresser immediately onto Roderich's foot, who howled in pain and curled up on the floor, tears of pain pricking his eyes.
"Ow!" he yelled, trying to attract the attention of anyone. It fell on deaf ears, apart from a certain Prussian telling to shut up. Roderich sighed. "That's the damper out for a few weeks then." He murmured into his chest before trying to stand up, pain shooting up his leg. When he finally looked around however, he found that everyone had run downstairs.
"Now, that's just mean." He said to himself, following them, hobbling down the carpeted stairs, trying his utmost not to fall down them.
When he caught up with them, he found Alfred sprawled on the floor, rolling around and gripping his left hand with his right. Arthur was shouting and all the others were doubled up, clutching their sides from the laughter ripping from their throats.
"Idiot! You tried to pick it up without the dustpan, didn't you?"
Alfred nodded with panic-stricken eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Everyone laughed harder.
"Urgh, come here." He grabbed Alfred by the arm and dragged him to the sink. Honestly, it was only a scratch, he didn't see what was so upsetting about it. And it wasn't really that funny, either. He glanced over his shoulder at his friends. Some of them rarely laughed. For example, why the hell was Berwald finding it amusing? He only ever grunted and scowled and sometimes smiled at Tino.
Alfred's breath suddenly became laborious and heavy when Arthur turned on the tap to wash away the blood, "Wha-what's tha-ARGH!" he screeched, "It's cold!"
"No shit, Sherlock." Gilbert sniggered from the corner, sidling up to watch what little action was taking place, "Wait…lemme think…it says 'cold' on the tap. Of course it's gonna be warm, what a surprise-"
Gilbert's sarcastic ramblings were cut off shortly with a loud clanging of metal against skull. There was a soft whumph of the albino hitting the ground and a considerable amount of the noise was silenced. Arthur continued to wash Alfred's hands.
"Good grief, man. How deep did you cut yourself? It just keeps coming…"
"I don't know, but it hurt."
Arthur yanked the hand out of the stream from the tap and told Tino to go and grab a bandage. The order was obeyed immediately and the little blue-clad blond hurried out of the room. The rest of Arthur's friends just stood around awkwardly, Elizaveta occasionally kicking at the body at her feet if it moved.
"…so how-"
Rrrrriiippp…
"Shit." Roderich lowered his voice, "I think Francis has freed himself."
This was confirmed by a distant "Onhonhon-" and a yell from Tino. Berwald jumped up, and with a roar of,
"D'n't you d're t'ch m'wife!" he was out of the room. There was silence, save the sound of the huge Swede bounding up the stairs.
"…Did he just call Tino his wife?"
"Apparently." Gilbert just managed before being kicked again.
"Shut it, slug."
"Don't…You'll hurt Gilbird…" he produced a chick that peeped softly.
Elizaveta's eyes widened, "Oh, how cute! Something that sweet can't belong to someone as crass as you!" she swept the little fluffy, yellow bird in her arms and cradled it.
"Thank you for the compliment, and yes, it does."
"Shut up!" he was kicked into silence again.
There were distant shouts from upstairs, and by the sound of it, Berwald was beating Francis to a pulp, Tino yelling that that was enough and he didn't want to be connected in any way to a man's death. Francis couldn't be heard.
"He didn't stand a chance."
"Tino! I need those bandages as soon as possible!" Alfred was beginning to bleed all over his parents' settee.
"Alright, coming!" Tino was obviously out of danger and was dashing down the stairs, accompanied by the heavy footfalls of his Swedish best friend and warnings of,
"D'n't f'll d'wn."
The warning went unheeded and the small Finn gambolled into the room, handing the bandages to Arthur. Beginning to wrap them around the wound, Arthur decided that he could likely take care of the rest of the house by himself.
"Thank you all so much for helping, but I think I'll be able to finish it now." He stood up, "You should all go home and relax now, you've been a great help."
"Ah, thank you." Ludwig said, grabbing the unconscious albino and swinging him onto his shoulders, "Are you sure you can take care of it?"
"I'll be fine, thank you, Ludwig. You've been very helpful, I should repay you…would you like some scones?"
"Er…er…no thanks." Ludwig quickly refused. Arthur's cooking was rumoured to have once put a man in hospital. Granted, it was Francis, who was incredibly finicky about his food, but still…
"We'd better be off, then." Everyone traipsed slowly from the house to leave a quiet space. A certain French groan drifted downstairs.
Marching smartly towards the bathroom where the blond lay, Arthur grabbed him by the legs and dragged him downstairs, making sure that his head bumped nastily on every step.
"Ah…ah…ah…Francis abuse! Francis abuse!"
"I don't bloody care." Reaching the front door, he threw the Frenchman out onto the street, ignoring the large, painful-looking bump forming steadily and the black eye, stretching across pale skin. Berwald must have attacked him quite ferociously.
"And don't come back." He slammed the door, ignoring cries of,
"Mon ami, you're beautiful when you're angry."
He turned his attention back to Alfred, who was still sat down on the sofa trying to wrap the bandages round his arm and sat down beside him, muttering about how he shouldn't have taken the damn man in in the first instance.
"Ah…I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused you…" Alfred rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "And did I ever say thank you?"
"No."
"Well, thank you." He waited for a negative response, maybe a clip around the ear again, but he got no such thing. On the contrary, Arthur was smiling warmly.
"Heh, it's okay. I guess it's what anyone else would've done." He paused for a moment before, "I was getting lonely anyway." There was an awkward silence before he spoke again, pulling the bandage tighter and fastening it: "By the way, you never told me your full name."
"I didn't? In your world, It would be 'F Jones'. Alfred F Jones. Pleased to meet ya!" he held out his unhurt hand. It was taken, and they shook hands.
"So." Arthur stood up, "I'd better show you to your room, then?"
"But, what about where I slept last night?"
"That was my parent's bed, and you made a mess of it. I should have taken you to the spare room, but I wasn't thinking properly." He yanked Alfred up with the hand already gripped in his, "But that's fine." He led the man to the doorway, "The room's in the attic. Oh! We have to make up a story for my parents. They'll think I'm completely insane if I said you just dropped out of the sky. Listen, you're a friend who was kicked out of his parent's house, okay?"
"But, we shouldn't lie…"
"Just, stick with it. Okay?" they began to climb until they reached the second floor. Alfred counted thirty-two steps. He wasn't usually this observant. Arthur opened a door, painted a glossy white and revealed a room of heavy grey stone and beds of knotted wood, covered in deep scarlet sheets. There was a window on the east wall that overlooked the rippling sea, shining blue, surfers crashing over the waves.
"Dude, this is beautiful! Where are we?"
"Cornwall." Replied Arthur, "Gorgeous place. Look! Gilbert's made a recovery." Sure enough, the albino was skimming along the tide, giving Ludwig (who was laid on the sand) the finger. Ludwig jumped up and tackled the teenager into the waves.
There was a ringing sound, and Alfred looked down at the phone in Arthur's hand, now being raised to his ear. Arthur mimed and 'excuse me' for a moment, before leaving the room and beginning to talk. Alfred just watched the scene; Arthur's friends now all spilling out onto the beach to mingle with the holidaymakers. Feliciano stood out, a canary yellow ring around his waist, laughing wildly and falling off the pier when his brother pushed him from behind.
A voice floated through the door the greet Alfred, and he listened, knowing that it wasn't polite to listen in, but still hearing:
"What? You're coming home tomorrow? …Yes…Of course you can, it's just a bit of a sho-" silence for a while, before: "I just wasn't expecting you. Of course I'd like you home. Okay, I'll see you tomorrow then. Bye."
The phone snapped shut and Arthur walked in again, face ashen.
"They're coming back tomorrow." He sat down on the bed, "What're we going to do about the windows? What'll we say?" he began to wring his hands. Alfred sat down beside him and began to comfort him, even though he had no experience of this before.
"It'll be okay. We'll get some glass."
"How?"
"I'm not sure." He stood up again and strode to the window. "Didn't you say you had important tests on at the minute?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"Then why are your friends all surfing and on the beach? Wouldn't they be revising?" he looked at the green-eyed man curled over on the bed.
"Ah, it's their way of relaxing."
"Can we go?"
"Hm? Oh, I don't see why not. I mean, there's not really much of a chance that we'll get the windows fixed anytime soon. I'll say that some yobs came and smashed them in." he stopped, before continuing, "A bit lazy and untruthful of me, but I can't see anything else to say." He stood up and headed for the door, "First, we need to get you some clothes and hygiene…stuff, have dinner, and then we'll go out. They'll still be there." He motioned for Alfred to follow him.
"No, Alfred. I'm sorry, but you can't wear a dress." He gaped in horror at Alfred, twisting his hips around and making the pink and flowery material billow, "It's not really…well, it's frowned upon. People will think you're weird."
"I don't care what people think of me."
"Well, you'll be hanging around me. And that means they'll think I'm weird as well."
"Man, your world is wrong. Why can't people wear what they want?"
"Oh, I don't know. It's just…that's a good point. But, I think this looks better on you. And it'll be more practical." He shoved a pair of canvas shorts and a t-shirt at him. It earned a great grin, and the blond dashed into the changing room to try them on. He emerged looking much better; showing well built and toned muscles. Arthur choked.
"Is it okay?" Alfred questioned, cocking his head expectantly.
"Fine. Great." Arthur thumped himself on the chest.
"Are you okay?"
"Fine, thank you." He said, recovering a little, "Go and take them off, get some more of them, and we'll go and get some stuff for dinner."
Alfred obeyed and returned, putting on his old clothes. The clothes that had previously been Arthur's.
"You may as well keep the ones you're wearing now." They went to the checkout, paid and left, heading for the supermarket.
"How does Toad in the hole sound?"
"It sounds…toady. What is it?"
"It's sausages in Yorkshire pudding. I may as well make mashed potato and gravy as well." He headed around, picking up a pack of sausages, some milk, flour, potatoes and a few oxo cubes.
"You'll have to make do with instant gravy, I'm afraid. I really can't be arsed making it from scratch."
"That's fine."
"Great. Let's go."
-o-
Two hours later, the food was cooked.
"You like it?" Arthur mumbled through mouthfuls.
"It's…nice…" Was the choked response. "I'm not used to eating much, really."
"Hm?" Arthur finished and pushed his dish away, "Not hungry?"
"Oh, er, I'm fine, thank you." Truth be told, it was burnt. "I'm anxious to go to the beach."
"Oh! Good point. My friends will still be there, if they haven't already drowned. 'specially Gil." He stood up, "He's stupid enough in general. Cracking at German, though." He grabbed his surfboard. "Do you want to surf too?"
"I've never tried, to be honest."
"I'll show you." He passed the blond his father's board, "It's a bit cold at first, but you'll get used to it. Ready?"
Alfred pulled on his sandals and grinned, "More ready than you!"
Arthur shook his head in confusion and left the house, locking the door behind his new friend and setting off to the beach. The sun was setting, turning the sea a bright orange. The light reflected off the sand and illuminated his friends, now the only people left. They had obviously scared everyone else off.
"Hey! Arthur!" Mathias waved from the sea before being toppled by a gigantic wave. He emerged spluttering and coughing, but still managing to shout; "Brought your new boyfriend?"
"He's not my boyfriend, twat." Arthur spat back, joining Kiku, Yao and Roderich in a deckchair.
"We were beginning to wander where you were." Kiku said over the waves, "You never forfeit the sea unless you absolutely can't come."
"Ah, I had my friend to look after." He motioned to Alfred, standing awkwardly on the sand a few metres away, "He didn't have any clothes."
"Oh."
"Hey! Alfred! Come and say hi!" His command was obeyed. Alfred wandered over slowly and waved at Kiku and Yao. Gilbert sneaked up behind the tall blond, seemingly oblivious that Alfred was much taller than him, and attempted to throw him over his shoulder. It failed.
"What're you doing?"
"Er…" Gilbert faultered, sprawled ungainly across the sand, "Trying to flip you?"
"That was pathetic." Alfred said, picking up the albino and throwing him over his shoulder with so much force that a largish dent was made in the sand where Gilbert landed. "That's how you flip someone."
"I've been beaten up a little much today, don't you think?"
"No. Now show me how to surf."
"What? That's not my responsibility!"
"Aww, come on, Gil…" Alfred picked him up and smiled flashingly at him, "I'm sure I'll get the hang of it soon-" he was interrupted by a deafening yell from Elizaveta.
"Pier jumping contest!"
"Ha!" Gilbert scuttled off onto the pier, only to be thrown off by the Hungarian girl. "That's not fair!"
Feliciano had climbed onto the sand, having given up on the pier after having being pushed off five times by his brother, sopping wet, but grinning. "It's so fun!" he chirped at Kiku, "You should try it!"
"No, thank you."
"Suit yourself!" he flopped down beside them.
The six sat in silence, watching everyone else jumping off the huge stone wall out into the sea until Arthur broke the silence.
"Alfred?"
"Yeah?"
"What happened, exactly? Why did you fall from the sky? Where do you come from? Are you really not from this world?"
"Hm." He ruffled the Englishman's hair. Arthur shrunk away indignantly, "It's really difficult to explain."
"Well, we have all the time in the world now."
"No. I'm sorry…it's…kinda personal. I'll tell you later."
"Fine."
They all looked back out, just in time to see Ivan Braginsky, the Russian from the nearby high school, walk up to the group on the pier and pick them up like rag dolls, throwing them all way out towards the caves at the south end of the beach.
Ah, yes. Happy times on the beach with Gilbo. And with Arthur's cooking, but whatever. Next chappie sees Arthur's parents and some of Alfred's past. Thank you very much if you reviewed, put the story on your watch or favourites, or read :D. It's great to get feedback.
Yes, I have been to Cornwall. It is bloody beautiful. And toad in the hole is magnificent so don't bash it XD