A/N- dude, you hetalia fan folks are bleepin' amazing, yo. owo this fic's crazy fun to write since i'm just letting my inner fangirl and chill self tag team this out. 's totally working out too. so i think i'll just keep on keeping, yeah. :D this chapter's totally dedicated to rachel and and audrey jones (no relation to america xD). it's their no bullshit way of speaking that i use in writing and in life. :333 sorry this chapter is so late, i had it done and proofread the day after i submitted chapter two but wanted to wait a bit before releasing this chappy. but then became a bitch and fucked up the story update thing and i had to do some digging around to finally get the piece o'shit to work. sigh. the things i do for you guys. read and review, folks. and as always, enjoy!

last chapter's song/title was Tighten Up by The Black Keys. prime shit right there. kinda reminds me of the head over heels, no logic love alfred has for dear sweet arthur. plus the beat is frickin' sweet. ;D

Disclaimer- still don't own. hidekaz...where ever you are, hope you're safe coz you still have all us hetalia fans out my our heartstrings.

Chapter Two

Om Nashi Me

Matthew walked down the pristine white hallway, his nose slightly scrunched as he tried to find his twin brother's hospital room. Which was a little difficult since the smell of antiseptic made Matthew slightly queasy. The boy looked back at the room number he just passed. Room 273? Wait, didn't the nurse say Room 104? Oh great, he'd gone the wrong way and now was stuck in an unfamiliar building that oozed with the stink of disinfectant and needles. Matthew hugged the stuffed polar bear he'd gotten for his brother closer to his chest. Terrific.

This was all his stupid twin's fault anyway. Who the hell told him it was a good idea to run across traffic during the afternoon rush hour anyway? He'd nearly fallen out of his seat when he saw the screenshot of Alfred's busted up and bloody body on the Channel 4 News. Now he was lost in a big creepy-clean hospital with sick people everywhere left and right. Why, when he got a hold of Alfred's stupid, stupid face, he'd punch it. Just for causing everyone, including Matthew, so much trouble.

...At least that's what Matthew told himself he'd do to his brother. In reality, what'd probably end up happening is Matthew would come into the room, all ready and pumped to give his twin the old one-two, but then he'd see Alfred all hurt and covered in, like, a full-body cast and would feel so bad and sorry for his bro. Sigh. That was his life apparently. It wasn't his fault Matthew had an identical twin brother who always got in trouble and thought more with his dick than with his brain. (Matthew had gotten a phone call from his brother at the hospital and the man wouldn't stop yammering about some sweater vest-wearing sex god. Either that or it was a feather nesting text god. Alfred's speech had been slurred by the painkillers the doctors had him on)

"For cryin' out loud, doctor dudes! Lemme outta this place! The food sucks and it smells like old people!" a familiar voice echoed down the hall. Matthew sweatdropped, he'd recognize that obnoxiously loud voice anywhere. "Plus I still gotta find that hot sweater vest guy! His ass is mine!" Yep, it was his brother alright. Matthew headed in the direction of his brother's whiny complaining.

"Oh Alfred..." he mumbled as he entered the hospital room, a bit embarrassed by the racket his brother had been making. Upon seeing his other twin, Alfred's cranky face lit up and he smiled.

"Hey, Matty! You made it! That's so cool of you." he said, then he lowered his voice. "By any chance, d'you got any decent grub to eat on you? McDonalds, preferably but whatever's fine. You would not believe the shit they're making me eat here at this cell ward..." The doctor overheard him and shot Alfred a dark look.

"For the last time, Mr. Jones. You can't have any solid food at the moment. Everything's got to be given to you through the IV drip." she said, tucking a loose strand of brown hair behind her ear. Then she added under her breath, "Next time think before you decide to run out into traffic." Matthew nodded sympathetically.

"I hear you, Miss. ...uh, Doctor Lady. Alfred's my brother and he's quite troublesome...sorry you had to put up with him." he apologized for his twin. The doctor smiled softly at him, accepting the apology. Alfred simply looked on at the two, a look of betrayal plastered on his bandaged face.

"It's alright, young man. I'm Doctor Elizaveta Héderváry by the way, but you can just call me Dr. Elizaveta." she introduced, standing up a little straighter. Matthew nodded and smiled back at her.

"Alright, Dr. Elizaveta. Uhh, so when do you think Alfred will be up and walking again? I saw the pictures of him during the accident on the news. They didn't look all that...good." he said, a small frown present on his face. Dr. Elizaveta checked the charts on her clipboard for Jones, Alfred.

"Well, surprisingly it wasn't all that bad. He's got a bunch of bruises and some cuts here and there and he's going to be sore for a while. But the only broken bone he's got is on his left ring finger and that'll be a snap to fix up. No fractures either. Your brother's a real lucky guy. I'm starting to think all that blood that was spurting out of him before was just for show. Haha." she chuckled. Matthew laughed softly with her. Bleeding nonstop just for the attention? That sounded actually plausible when it came to Alfred.

"Hey!" his brother exclaimed from his hospital bed, clearly annoyed with all the bad talk going on about him. "I'm right here you know!" Dr. Elizaveta's expression was annoyed as she turned around to reprimand the boy.

"Oh, hush up, kid. We're just joking. And do you know how much of a mess you caused with all that bogus 'bleeding out' stuff you were pulling? You got blood on my favorite doctor's coat!" she cried out, pointing to the dull red bloodstain on the side of her sleeve. Alfred rolled his eyes.

"Whatever, lady. I just wanna eat something that's not a gray colored liquid." he retorted, attempting to cross his arms but the pain from trying to do so forced him to stay as he was, a pained pout etched on his face. Matthew chuckled at the sight. How uncool of his 'awesome' brother.

"Yeah, yeah, like I really care." Dr. Elizaveta turned back to the more likable Jones twin and grinned. "Anyways, I've gotta get moving to my next patient. I've either got to cut out their heart and put a new one in or give them a flu shot. Can't remember. See you later, Mr. Jones and noisy brat." she waved as she left. Alfred scowled. Matthew simply smiled and sat in the chair next to his brother.

"Alfred you really should be more respectful to the doctors here. They did save you life, after all." he said, a bit of sarcasm in his tone. Alfred didn't seem to notice it and grinned back at his twin.

"Yeah, I guess. But, dude, they totally made a big deal outta nothing. Didn't you hear the doctor? I've only got a broken finger! Ha! Just shows how awesome I am that I can run through New York traffic and get away with just a messed up finger. Take that, Death!" he bragged, a goofy, but happy grin on his face. Matthew just sighed. Perhaps it did show awesome Alfred was...or maybe it just showed how much of a dumbass he was. Alfred could believe whatever he wanted though.

"Seriously though, what possessed you to do that? I heard a little bit of what you were saying on the phone, but, Alfred, you damn near almost got yourself killed." Matthew said, hoping his words had at least made his brother rethink his actions. Alfred's face turned stoic and he went silent. Matthew could help but raise a brow at Alfred's sudden change in attitude.

Alfred chose his words carefully. "I was...hypnotized...by a rather...enticing...rear end."

...

"In short, you were horny and walked through traffic to get laid. Am I correct?" Matthew asked, a bland look on his face. Alfred cracked a grin and chuckled.

"Man, you know me so well, Matty. It's kinda creepy sometimes. But yeah...I like sex. And I'd brave the afternoon traffic to get me some. Wouldn't you?"

"I dunno, Alfred. I rather like living." he said snarkily. Again, Alfred ignored his brother's remark. Matthew sighed, seeing that the snark had gone over Alfred's head. "So who's the lucky lady this time, Alfie?" he asked, joining Alfred in his use of pet names. 'Alfie' smirked, a glint present in his eyes.

"Surprisingly, it's not a girl this time, my dear Matty. It's a sweater vest-wearing dude with eyebrows the size of bricks. Both of which I find astonishingly sexy.." he murmured to himself. Matthew looked at him in disbelief. Was this a joke? Really? His 'All-American' manly-man, football-chuckin' brother was an asspirate? Matthew smirked as well.

Heh, why was he not surprised?

"Sweater vest? Eyebrow bricks? And now I find you take up the ass, little brother?" Matthew teased. Alfred gave his brother a sour look.

"Hey, shaddup. Those two things are majorly sexy, your lame ass wouldn't understand. And for your information, when me and...sweater vest...guy are consummating our totally hot and steamy love, I will be the one wearing the pants. Fer sure." he replied. "Also, you're only older by, like, two minutes. So...double shut up." he added. Matthew rolled his eyes.

"Two minutes older than you are."

"...Your mom." Alfred retorted.

"It's your mom too." Matthew replied.

Alfred made an 'oh, damn' face of realization. "Okay, shut up."

Matthew grinned in compliance. At least he could win at this.

XDXDXD

A total of three days had passed since Alfred had been released from the hospital. He'd finally pissed off Dr. Elizaveta to the point where she was either going to kick him out or smash his head in with a frying pan. She choose the less bloody option and Alfred was finally freed from the containment of his hospital bed and free to clog his arteries with Mickey D's and KFC. Along with the spiking of his sugar levels, Alfred had also been concocting his plan to find his soon-to-be lover and make him his.

His plan went as such.

Step 1. Find the sexy!

Step 2. ? ? ?

Step 3. Make the sexy my sexy and commence to have the sexy time with the sexy. (aka- Profit)

Alfred stared at the white sheet of college-ruled paper that contained his plan. He scrutinized every single step of his plan.

My God, it was fucking full-proof.

Matthew peered over his brother's shoulders to sneak at peak at Alfred's 'plan'. Oh yeah...there was nothing wrong with that plan at all. Did this sweater vest guy even exist? The way Alfred moaned every single night into his pillow about him was starting to make Matthew think his younger brother of two minutes was just making the dude up. Wait a sec, imaginary buttsex with an imaginary friend...ehh, as long as Alfred cleaned up the mess.

"Alfred." Matthew called out to his brother.

"Huh? What?" he got in response, Alfred was still editing his brilliant plan, as in bolding the question marks of Step 2. Matthew sighed. Okay, that was it.

"Alfred, I'm beginning to become concerned about this infatuation of yours and its impact on your mental health." Alfred stared at his twin blankly. Matthew groaned, he'd hadn't gotten the hint. So he'd have to be more direct. "Get off your butt, I mean. And get out of the house as well. You're freaking me out, eh." Crap, he'd let his accent slip.

Alfred's lips curved deviously. "Dude, watch that Canadian accent, eh. But, fine, fine...I'll get out of the house. We're outta bacon anyway. And sliced ham is not bacon, no matter what you Canadians say. That shit's fuckin' weak. I'm off to the store, later." he said, taking the keys from the table and heading out the door.

XDXDXD

At the *insert generic supermarket name here* Store

Alfred was hyperventilating at the moment. He couldn't believe it. He could not freaking believe it.

There he was at the local Stop N' Stop (whose motto was 'Stop by n' shop till you drop. But no cops') waiting in line for the cashier with a two things of delicious, hickory-smoked ham in one hand and a half-eaten Big Mac in the other. The line, like usual, was taking a quarter of a century to move up due to the fact the older-than-time cashier, Bertha, moved slower than a retarded turtle. Alfred was occupying himself by juggling a People magazine in his bacon-holding hand. Currently he was finding a particular article on Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie very interesting.

"Whoa...their lives are like so...cool. I wanna ride a yacht down the Rhine for Easter!" Alfred said to himself, earning a few strange looks from the people around him. Out of the blue, someone came tapping on his shoulder trying to get his attention. "Dude...what? Can't you see I'm reading like...current events?" Alfred said, not looking up from the magazine article, coming across a story on Charlie Sheen. That dude again? He so wasn't winning anymore.

"Ahh, I see. Uh, anyway, could you hand me a pack'a mints?" the British man requested. Alfred nodded and felt around the shelves of candy, handing the person a cannister of Icebreakers. "'Right then, thanks, mate." the man thanked then turned heel and began walking in the opposite direction. Alfred finally looked up from the magazine and over to the disappearing figure of the Brit he'd just been onesidely conversing with.

"No prob- hooooolllllllyyyyy shit." he gasped. A few mothers shot him glares for using such profanity in an open place but right now Alfred really could give less than a flying fuck what others thought of him. 'Cause right now, his sexy soon-to-be future boyfriend was walking away from him. OH SHIT! He was getting away! Alfred pushed back past the line of people and motored after his love. Who would have thought they'd meet again so soon? Fate had be on her high horse, telling Alfred their love was meant to be.

'Pshaw, Fate, as if I didn't already know we're frikkin' soulmates.' Alfred thought to himself as he ran after the young man.

"Hey! Dude I just talked to! Yeah, you! Wait up!" he yelled after him. The Brit, hearing the loud American calling after him stopped and turned to look at him funny. Who the hell was the bloke? And want did he want with him? ...Oh if the Brit only knew.

"Uhm, can I help you?" he asked hesitantly. The American was looking at him weirdly...stranger danger and all.

"Ah, yeah, ya can actually. Oh! First thing's first. My name's Alfred F. Jones. It'd be best for you to remember it." Alfred said, grinning ear to ear. 'You'll be screaming it later anyways...'

"Okay...I suppose. I'm, uh...Arthur. Arthur Kirkland." Arthur replied, a bit reluctant to give the loony yank his last name. Alfred looked like he was about ready to swoon. Arthur was his name, huh? Arthur...Arthur...Arthur Kirkland, manbitch to Alfred F. Jones. Oh, he liked that. He liked it a lot.

"I dunno if you remember me from before but I was the guy who, y'know...got...hit by a...car." Alfred said rather awkwardly. After all, he didn't want Arthur to think he was weird or anything. Arthur's pretty green eyes widened in recognition. Blimey, this was the dolt who'd run out into traffic yesterday? Jeezus, he'd thought that guy had died when he saw how he'd landed on the concrete. Like a bloody, literally bloody pretzel. Arthur looked up at the cheerful American before him. Apparently not.

"Oh! You're the suicidal bloke from the other day. Right, right. I think I remember you now. Uh...glad to see you're not...dead." Arthur added later. 'Omigod...he's glad...for me...that I'm not dead! Shit, that's the sweetest thing ever!' Alfred thought joyously to himself. Arthur eyed the young man carefully. What the bloody hell was going on with this kid? And was this particular conversation going to go somewhere anytime soon? He had to be getting back to-

"Haha, yep that's me! But, listen dude, I'm gonna be totally honest with you right now. You probably don't know it yet, but me and you are fuckin' soulmates, man. And...I love you." Alfred announced, taking Arthur's smaller hands into his. The Brit turned red in the face. What the bloody fuck was this wanker on? Before Arthur could even get started on the American boy's utter mutilation of the English language, he was pulled forward into a liplock with the yank. Arthur's eyes were as wide as saucers by now. And to his horror, the poor Englishman felt a particular moist appendage prodding his closed lips.

My God, it was a tongue.

A fucking mental yank was attempting to French him in public at a fucking supermarket. Super. Just super.

Arthur knew getting out of a bed today was a mistake. Nonetheless the straight Brit remained adamant against Alfred's endeavors and kept his lips glued shut. He tried to pry himself loose from the American but the man was fucking strong.

"Oi, Iggy-jerk, didja get my candy yet? And I swear if you got me a packet of bludgin' mints again, I'll- EW! What the hell? Get a room, gayarses!" a young blond boy with similar eyebrows to Arthur exclaimed.

A/N- hmmm, can anyone guess who that was? kekeke. and i'll explain why he called arthur 'iggy-jerk' if the fic's AU later, kk? that and why matty and alfie are decidedly identical twins and one has a canadian accent, eh. ;D this chapter was much longer than the first. thank god. i don't like it when i submit shit that's under 2k words. makes me feel like i didn't do shiet. but you guys seemed to like it. yayyy. :33 iggy and mysterious eyebrow kid will be using profuse amounts of british slang coz well...they're british. ya dig? xD it's fun to look through a british slang dictionary anyway. they use arse instead of ass. i do that sometimes...but i'm fond of my ass. ^o^ ...wait, whut?

ooooh. and the plot thickens. not really. is there even a plot? o.o (nope! XDD jkjk. i think) silly alfred. there's no tongue on the first kiss! even you're not that good! XDD hey, let's talk to some reviewers! :O

two more weeks until spring break! (or something like that) but whatevs, cobalt'll be able to work on her stories nonstoppppp. yay. but first i gotta finish up great expectations. never thought i could hate the way a british dude speaks...but jeez, cockiney/old english is mighty difficult to understand at first.

yeah, that's it.

peace. ^^

TEN REVIEWS EQUALS (eventual) UPDATE! PLEASE REVIEW AND TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK, ARU! :DD