A/N: Finally!~ The new chapter is here, and much longer than the last one. I really want to thank those who actually bothered to subscribe to this, it's very flattering! :D
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Arthur let himself sink into the warm waters shoulder deep, exhaling slowly as he rolled his neck over to the side. This was Heaven. He really needed to get away from all that endless paper work and all those unnecessary conferences; even a majestic country like him needed time to relax. He decided to go in farther deep into the water and bent his knees a little more, having the water rise up to his lips. The boiling water felt oddly relaxing on his face, giving a little warmth to his soul even.
"Heeeeyy Arthurrrr!" Called out a familiar and slightly annoying voice from above him.
The Englishman jolted from his peaceful state and slapped his forehead in disgust. "I forgot I invited this git."
Alfred hovered over him, a big, heroic smile on his face. He was completely naked except for the powder white towel he held in front of his...'statue of liberty'.
After a few seconds of realizing how close he was to receiving a mouthful, a heavy blush stained Arthur's face. "G-GET IN THE TUB YOU IDIOT!"
But Alfred simply cocked his head, somewhat amused at Arthur's expression. "It's not like you haven't seen me naked before." He threw his head back and laughed before jumping into the waters, only to give out a yelp that made Arthur flinch.
"Bollocks, what the hell was that?"
Alfred couldn't sit down. The water was much too hot. He stood up and faced England; who was still sitting down giving him a wonderful view of his impressive anatomy. The American was either too careless or oblivious to figure this out for himself, since he stood there for quite some time.
"It's freakin' hell in here!"
Arthur slammed his palm over his nose in hopes of clogging the blood that was beginning to fall. "Sit down, or GET OUT."
"Whoops." Alfred laughed, finally realizing his awkward position. "Sorry 'bout that, didn't mean to block your sun." He hopped out of the springs and searched for the white towel, wrapping it around his waist. Though he had to admit, any smaller and that piece of cloth would be absolutely pointless. He was pretty epic waist down. All heroes were, so it was no wonder Arthur was on the small side.
Not that he looked or anything.
"You think Matthew's going to come?"
Alfred moved his gaze from Arthur's lower regions, which were still slightly visible through the steamy waters, and looked at him. "Huh what?"
"I swear you get that from Francis..." Arthur growled, shuffling his hands over his legs.
"Of course he's coming! Why wouldn't he?" He beamed in response, bright blue eyes focused only him.
"I don't know," Arthur began, leaning his head back. "I just feel as if...me and you, we don't really...pay attention to the lad much, you know?"
Alfred roared with laughter and shook his head in disbelief. "What gave you that stupid idea? We always pay attention to him."
"Well, I suppose you were the cause of it too, when you were both wee tikes."
Alfred did an impressive job refraining his giggles from the word 'wee' and grinned instead. "What do you mean?"
"You were such a prat when you were younger, always getting into battles you couldn't handle. I, being the more responsible one, kept my eye on you more than I did for Matthew because he was such a quiet and well behaved boy." He smiled, thinking back to such a time.
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"England, England!" Alfred cried out, covered in cuts and scrapes from head to toe.
"Look at you, you're covered in bruises!" Said a concerned Arthur, scrambling through his drawers for his first aid kit.
A young Matthew walked slowly behind him, a book in hand. "E-England?" He whispered, holding out the book for the older nation to see.
"Ah, that's right...I was suppose to read to you to-"
"ENGLAAAAAAND!" Alfred screeched, making both Matthew and Arthur cringe. "CARRY ME!" He demanded.
"Fine, fine." He mumbled, raising the boy into his arms and completely forgetting about Matthew, who was on the verge of tears.
"B-but...England..."
"Gracious America, you're bleeding too! Let's go get you some disinfectant for these cuts."
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"Hey, yeah I remember that fight! I was really out numbered..."
"You were. I had to call in reinforcements and everything." Arthur chuckled. Memories like that kept him sane and kept Alfred in his place.
"Ha-ha. Funny." Alfred grumbled, dipping one foot into the springs and kicking the water towards him with immense force, pleased when he heard him gurgle in agony.
The two, again, completely forgot who or what they were discussing in the first place.
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"I am so glad you decided to join us after all, Mr. Williams!"
"I'm very sorry I came on such short notice though," Matthew said quietly. "I'm sure you're very busy."
He wasn't lying one bit on that last statement. The entire building was occupied with shirtless men in towels of all shapes and sizes. The steamy atmosphere was, while somewhat pleasant, still nerve racking. He even saw men that were very much naked, and neither one of them seemed to care that their privates were visible to the world. Maple, it seemed as if they wanted people to gawk and admire their lower parts. Matthew shifted nervously as he nodded at the Chinese man, too caught up in the view to actually understand what he was saying.
"...And I said, more bath houses! We men really do need some time from our daily lives, aru..."
Matthew would occasionally smile and laugh lightly with him, but he was still rather busy keeping an eye out for Francis. With all these men surrounding one another, surely he had to come. Invited or banned, Francis would find a way into things he desired.
"Here you are, Matthew."
He tore his gaze back to Yao, who was had in his hand a faded red towel. It looked fairly small in his arms, but Matthew figured it must have been the way it was folded and accepted it.
He was wrong.
The towel was more like wash cloth; it didn't even cover his knees.
"Y-Yao? I think this...is a little small..." His voice quaked, opening the garment all the way so that he could see. He didn't even think it would go fully around his waist.
"Ah yes, you see, I'm out of regular size towels, so I'm afraid you'll have to use the boy's size aru."
"Oh.. I s-see." He stammered back, forcing a smile.
Yao, however, was not convinced with his response and grabbed his shoulder lightly. "If you prefer, I can give you mine instead, it's no trouble at all, really."
"No! Thank you, thank you, but this will do fine!" He lied, pointing an index finger onto his chest. "It's my f-favorite color! Hahaha..."
Yao took a moment to realize it, and laughed along with him. "Ah it is aru! It is also mine!"
"Heh...so, where are the changing stalls?" Matthew asked.
"Changing stalls?"
Matthew did not like the way he repeated him in interrogative form. "You know, where men change and keep their clothes?"
"...We don't own any of those, aru."
Matthew grimaced and slammed a hand onto his chest furiously. "Th-then...where do you change?!"
"Here, of course!" Yao replied blankly.
"W-what?! In f-f-front of every one?!"
Yao leaned his head to the side, clearly confused. Of course in front of everyone, they were only men after all. Surely he wasn't afraid of a little nudity, was he?
Then again, the way he stammered and changed different shades of red said otherwise. He chuckled and said, "Mr. Williams, there are a few private stalls in the back, if you feel you are a little too...nervous."
"N-not at all, I j-just, well, you know...these men are all...I mean, really I-"
"Keep going straight and to your left you'll see a few stalls, though I cannot promise you doors."
"...Thank you, Yao."
"No problem aru!" He said, flashing him another warm smile.
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Matthew pressed the book tightly against his chest as he watched the two walk away, biting his lower lip and holding back tears.
"It's n-not fair!" He wailed.
"Matthieu?" A voice called out.
The child turned around, his lip still quivering.
It was France.
Matthew never really spoke to Francis for many reasons. He was usually out with women, other times with men. Matthew was always fond of England because he was always around, always there to talk to, despite the fact that he'd really only talk to Alfred. Francis, on the other hand, didn't speak much to either child, but knew how to cook like a master. England's could put you sick in bed for weeks, and sadly, Matthew knew this from experience.
When Francis cooked for them, however, it always tasted delicious. Alfred would always poke at it teasingly, saying that only real men could stomach England's food and not his 'girlish cooking'. Matthew, however, never complained, and always thanked him whenever he saw him.
"Matthieu! Mon chéri, why do you weep?" Francis asked in concern, kneeling down to wipe the boy's tears with his sleeve.
Matthew looked up at him with trembling blue eyes and quivering lips. "E-England d-didn't read to me again..." He managed to say, swallowing the lump in his throat.
Francis felt a pinch of frustration build up inside, but decided to ignore it and pay attention to the little one instead.
"Do not cry, Matthieu!" He lifted Canada's chin with two fingers and flashed him a warm smile. "Here, I shall read to you, mon chaton. Where is your book?"
Matthew beamed, picking up his book and hiding behind the cover. "Here it is!"
Francis leaned in to read the title more closely. "The Three Little Pigs?"
"England use to read this to me before..." His voice trailed off at the thought of grinning Alfred.
"Mon fils, that England is a silly man. I will read you an even better story." Francis said, as he lifted the boy into his embrace.
Matthew had never been carried before. The feel of Francis' strong but comfortable grip made his heart skip. So this is what Alfred felt like everyday, the lucky goon. "Better story? Better than Goldilocks?"
Francis nuzzled into his hair and nodded, "Much better, ma coquette, much better."
A tad convinced but still curious, he persisted. "What's it called?"
"It's called Le Petit Prince," Francis replied. "It's my favorite."
Matthew was very unfamiliar with the title, or the language for that matter. "What's a...pay teet prinsay?" He asked, making Francis cringe at the way he slaughtered the French pronunciation.
"Petit Prince," He corrected him politely. "It means Little Prince."
"Little Prince?" The child repeated softly.
"Oui." Francis nodded with a smile, "Just like you, Matthieu."
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Matthew sighed as he unbuttoned his pants slowly, letting them drop the floor.
"Just like you." The voice was almost painful, the way it echoed back and forth through his mind like damned ping pong game.
"Just like me." He whispered.
He removed his jacket next, becoming careless where it landed. Garment after garment slid off his skin gradually, almost with rhythm. The Canadian sighed as he searched for the red towel he had been given, cursing under his breath. The building was fogging up his glasses and he couldn't see a single thing.
"Looking for this, mon ange?"
"Hm? Oh yes, thank-"
Wait a minute.
That voice...
That accent.
It just couldn't be.
Matthew rubbed his lenses with his thumb and adjusted his glasses, now being able to see a completely visible (and somewhat naked) Francis.
He stood taller than him, as usual. His golden wavy hair was soaked, still dripping at the ends. He wore what seemed to be navy blue swim shorts, three sizes much too small, just the way Francis like them to be. No shirt, as he could plainly see, and his nipples were clearly hard. Cobalt blue eyes had that lazy and sensual glow, and his cheeks gained a light blush from being in the too long. He watched mindlessly as his chest rose up and down in agonizingly slow breaths.
His admiration was only for a moment, however, since he had remembered he was naked and in front of Francis.
"Fuh...Fuh...Fra-" He choked, lifting a trembling, crooked finger at him.
"I never expected you to be here, mon chouchou~!"
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A/N: DON'T YOU LOVE CLIFFHANGERS? xD I promised this chapter would be longer, I even added ArthurxAlfred in there for you! The next chapter will most likely be much shorter. Thanks again for reading!
Translations:
Chouchou - Pastry, if I'm not mistaken, like sweetie
Ange - Angel
Mon Fils - My Son
Ma Cherie - My Darling