Here's my latest update! I hope you enjoy it!
"Isn't it weird that you're dating Al?" Peter asked Ivan, taking a spoonful of his tomato bisque.
"What do you mean?" the Russian replied as he stopped eating his dinner and looked at the blond puzzled. "How would it be weird?"
"Peter, shut up!" Arthur whispered-yelled through gritted teeth, realizing where this conversation was headed. "Just eat your dinner!"
"Arthu! Stop being so rude! Us men are trying to talk. Sorry 'bout that man." Peter apologized, returning his attention to the man sitting at the head of the table. "The old ball and chain is at it again. But I guess you know more about it then I do, right? You've probably endured his ranting for years." The white-haired man looked at the Sealander, then at Arthur, then finally at his boyfriend.
"Alfred, I don't get it. Explain this to me."
"Don't look at me dude. I don't get it either," the American said, swallowing the last bit of his fourth bacon cheeseburger. "Yo Kevin!" he cried, raising his hand on the air and snapping his fingers. "We're going to need another burger over here!"
"Sir, please quiet down," Kevin, a waiter, tried approaching the table for the fifth time that night. "You're disturbing some of our other guests."
"Well maybe if you already had another hamburger on my table every three minutes like I requested, I wouldn't have to scream."
"I find it unlikely that you could eat a whole burger in three minutes."
"No, it takes me two minutes but I like to give it a minute to digest before I eat another one," the dirty blond explained, patting his stomach.
"Um.. okay," the waiter said, a little weirded out. "In any case, this is not a fast food place. You can't just keep ordering burgers all night."
"Hey! Who's paying here? Me or you?"
"That's not the iss-"
"Me..or you?!" Alfred repeated louder.
"You," Kevin sighed.
"That's what I thought. Now get me another burger," the American ordered, leaning back in his chair. "And make it a double."
"Yes sir," the waiter agreed, walking away.
"Now that that's handled," the dirty blond began, looking at his Peter. "What were you talking about before?"
"We don't need to-" Arthur tried, but was interrupted by this 'boyfriend'.
"Arthu, why won't you let me talk?" Peter asked, irritated. "I'm just trying to ask your brother a question."
"Brother?" Alfred questioned, taken aback. "Arthur doesn't have a brother."
"Yeah, he does. He's sitting right there," Peter explained, pointing at Ivan. "Man, no wonder he broke up with you. You guys were dating for months and you didn't even pay attention enough to know he had a brother."
"Artie, what is he talking about?" the American asked his ex, ignoring the Sealander's last comment. "Why does he think Ivan's your brother?"
"Why are you asking me?!" the Englishman questioned, avoiding the American's gaze, looking down at his dinner of kidney pie. "I haven't the foggiest clue why. He must be off his bloody rocker!"
"I'll have you know I am perfectly adjusted on my rocker, thank you very much," Peter declared, offended. "And I only think he's your brother because you told me yesterday. That's how you got me to go on this date with you!"
"Wait, what?" Alfred asked, confused. "What does that mean?"
"Nothing, he's crazy," the Englishman stated, deciding to put an end to the conversation. He turned his attention to his fake boyfriend. "I think I've had just about enough of your delusions, Peter. We need to break up."
"Wait, what?" Peter questioned, looking at his now ex boyfriend. "I'm confused."
"I'm tired of all your insanity. You need to leave now. Before you say anything else."
"What? I do-"
"Now," Arthur repeated, motioning towards the exit of the restaurant. "I don't need you anymore."
"Wha- Bu- You know what? Fine! But I'm taking this!" Peter cried, taking his soup as he stood up. "And before you leave, give my compliments to the chef. This tomato bisque was delicious!" And with that, the Sealander stormed out of the establishment.
"What was that?" the American asked, for what seemed to be the tenth time tonight.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, you breaking up with Pete because he thought Ivan was your brother. What was that about?"
"He was being annoying so I broke up with him. End of story."
"No, even you're not that impatient," Alfred said, trying to make sense of what just happened. "I got it! You were so distressed over our break-up that you ran into a relationship with the first guy you met. And hanging out with me and him at the same time made you realize that he would never measure up to the hero that is me and broke up him."
"What?" the dirty blond asked incredulously. "How dare you accuse me of such, you arrogant, self-absorbed, po-"
"Dude, it's okay," Alfred grinned, waving off the idea. "I get it."
"I didn't break up with him because of you, yo-"
"Here's your hamburger," Kevin interrupted, suddenly appearing by the table as he handed another plate of food to the American. "Enjoy."
"Keep 'em coming," the dirty blond ordered, picking up his burger and taking a huge bite. "I expect the next one in five minutes."
"Of course," the waiter sighed, going back to the kitchen to place the order.
"So as I was saying Artie, it's fine. It all makes sense now."
"I didn't do-," Arthur began, but was interrupted by the Russian.
"I'm going to go to the bathroom now," Ivan declared, getting up. "Francis, come with me."
"What?" The Frenchman was about to take another bite of his Ravioli dinner when the Russian stood up. "Why do you need me to go with you?"
"Because I said so. Now, get up." The blond reluctantly got up and followed his 'best friend' to the restrooms. To his surprise, the white-haired man stopped walking as soon as he reached the entrance of the facilities and turned around to look at him.
"You have to do something for me," Ivan ordered, sternly.
"What do you mean?" Francis asked, a bit puzzled.
"I have a feeling Alfred still has some feelings for that eyebrowed man. I don't like it. I didn't mind it when he was still dating that weird little Peter fellow but now that they've broken up, I'm afraid Alfred might try something."
"So, what do you want me to do for you?"
"I want you to start dating eyebrows."
"What?" The Frenchman raised an eyebrow. "I don't understand."
"If you start dating him then Alfred will have no choice but to let his affections for the man go."
"I can't date him! I've tried it already; he called me a rapist then pushed me of a chair!" the blond argued, not wanting to have anything to do with the Englishman. "I don't think that's a good foundation for a relationship."
"Nonsense. He seems delightful. In any case, I've heard rumors about you being the master of seduction."
"I am. I just don't really want to use my techniques on him."
"Look, I don't understand why you arguing with me right now," the Russian explained, looking straight into the shorter man's eyes as he took a step towards him. "Best Friends do favors like this for each other all the time. If you don't do this for me then you're not really my best friend. Is that what you're trying to tell me?"
"No," Francis sighed, deciding that debating this topic any further would only infuriate the man and he did not want to have an angry Russian on his hands. "I'll do it for you."
"Great," Ivan grinned, putting his hand on the 'best friends' shoulder. "I knew you'd finally agree. Now come, let's go." He walked past the Frenchman and led the way back to their table. He and Francis both sat back down in their seats.
"My god, that's your 10th bloody burger!" Arthur cried, looking at the American with disgust as he took another bite of his sandwich. "Do you really think you can eat anymore?" Alfred glared at his ex, wiping some relish of his chin.
"Don't insult me. This was only my appetizer. "
"What? Where do you pu-"
"Francis has something to say," the Russian announced, interrupting the two men's conversation. He picked up his forked and started eating his dinner again. "Go ahead."
"What do you mean?" the Frenchman asked, confused.
"What we discussed. Go."
"Wait... you meant now?"
"Yes. Now, go."
"Wait, wait, wait," Alfred said, trying to make sense of what he was hearing. "What do you mean 'what we discussed'?"
"I didn't say that."
"Yeah, you just did," the American insisted, looking at his boyfriend with a questioning face. "What did you guys discuss?"
"I have no idea what you are talking about," Ivan deadpanned, before glancing back at Francis. "Go."
"So Arthur," the Frenchman sighed, turning to face the Englishman. "Now that you're single again, what do you say about taking a stroll through the park tomorrow at noon? I know the perfect spot where we can sit down and have lunch together."
"What? So you can bloody try to rape me again?" the Briton asked incredulously. "In your dreams."
"But mon cher, I insis-"
"Dude, let it go," Alfred said. "He still hasn't gotten over me yet. There's no way he'd go on a date with you."
"Excuse me?! I am over you, you American bastard!" Arthur cried, before turning to look at the Frenchman. "You know what? I will go on a date with you."
"Excellent!" Francis smiled. "We can met up in Washington Park. I'll bring the 'l-"
"No!" the American injected, interrupting the blond, nearly jumping out of his seat.
"What?" Arthur asked, shocked at his ex's actions. "No what?"
"Ummm.." The bespeckled man calmed down as he tried to think of a good reason for screaming no besides his jealousy."No to Francis bringing the food tomorrow obviously. Arthur is such a great cook that he should be bringing the food."
"I am? But during our relationship together you actually forbade me from ever cooking you."
"Nonsense," Alfred said, waving off the idea. "That was only because I was jealous of your awesome cooking and that I could never cook food like you could."
"Really?"
"Would I lie to you?"
"Yes."
"What? No!" the dirty blond cried, offended. "A true hero would never do that! You should totally make him your signature dish."
"My signature dish? You mean fish and chips?"
"If that's your signature dish, then yeah!"
"Well, I suppose I could pass by the market tomorrow morning. Sure, why not?"
"Okay then," Francis agreed. "You'll bring the lunch tomorrow. What's the harm?"
"And then I gave the man the fish and he told me 'I don't wear purple and white belts'!" Mathias cried, bursting out in laughter as he finished his story.
"You're so funny," Lukas deadpanned, with a serious expression on his face.
"I know man, you don't need to tell me. I can tell by the look on your face." The Norwegian nodded in understanding before turning to look on his date.
"Lovino, you're quiet."
"Oh, I'm sorry," the Italian apologized sarcastically, feigning regret as he stared at the blond incredulously. "I just didn't want to interrupt your guy's date."
"I don't understand."
"You don't understand?" Lovino repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Then let me break it down for you! You're supposed to be on a date with me but instead, you've been chatting it up with that bastard for the past twenty minutes!"
"Oh," Lukas let out, realising what he had done. "I'm sorry."
"Sorry? Oh we are so past sorry! You know, you're the one who asked me out! I could've been doing better things right now, like reading or maybe finding the cure the cancer; but I guess we'll never know! You know what, I'm done!" the brunette cried, standing up and throwing the napkin on his lap into his spaghetti dinner. "I don't need this. I hope you two bastards have a nice fucking date."
"I said sorry," the blond tried again.
"And I said I don't give a shit! Arrivederci fuckers!" The Italian swiftly turned around walked towards the exit of the restaurant. He was about to leave when he realized something. Wait, he thought. Lukas drove me here. Shit, well I can't ask him to drive me home now. What am I going to do? The man turned around and searched around for anything that could help him get home. His eyes stopped patrolling the establishment when he saw his British friend sitting at a table a few meters away. Perfect. He walked over to the table and heard an American accent talking.
"Then as I heroically pulled the baby out of the burning building, I accidently tripped o-"
"Shut up Alfred!" the Italian asserted, recognizing the man as Arthur's ex. "No one gives a fuck." He turned to look the Briton. "Thin-"
"Hey!" Alfred yelled. "You can't jus-"
"I just did! Now, as I was saying before, things didn't work out well with Lukas, I need a ride home Arthur."
"Oh, okay," Arthur agreed, before going back to eating his dinner. Lovino stared at his friend unbelievingly for a few moments before speaking again.
"I meant now, you bastard!"
"What?" the Englishman asked, surprised as he swallowed some of his kidney pie. "I'm eating."
"Yeah, and I'm standing. Now that the obvious is out of the way, drive me home!"
"Fine, but you're ridiculous." The dirty blond put down his fork and was about to stand up when he paused. "Wait. I forgot, Peter drove me here."
"So? Make him take us home." Lovino looked around for the Sealander at the table. "Where is he? The bathroom or something?"
"No, he was annoying me so I sent him home."
"Wait, so you-" The Italian took a deep breath, pinching the bridge the his nose with his fingers as he tried to understand his current situation. "You're trying to tell me that you sent away the only ride you had home?! My god, how much of a complete imbecile are you?"
"Hey, you did the same thing!"
"No, I had no choice! The guy was being a complete asshole to me! You, on the other hand, were just being plain stupid!"
"Whatever, that doesn't change the fact that we both currently don't have a ride home!" Arthur pointed out.
"You could just ask me..." Alfred offered, waving his car keys in the air. "All you have to do is ask."
"Ha! Like I'd ever ask you for anything!"
"Fine. Stay here all night, I don't care."
"Ummmm..." Arthur hesitated for second, thinking whether or not to just accept his ex's offer. "Hell no! We'd rather walk home!"
"Hey, speak for yourself!" Lovino cried.
"Don't worry about it, Lovino," the Englishman said, turning around in his chair to look at the blond next to him. "Francis will drive us home."
"Quoi?" the Frenchman asked, confused, looking up from his food.
"You're going to drive us home," Arthur repeated. "Now."
"I can't drive you now. I'm still eating," the blond said, motioning to his unfinished Ravioli.
"Okay then." The Brit took the man's dinner and threw it on the floor. "Now you're done."
"You can't just do that!"
"Oh really? 'Cause it looks like I just did! Now drive us home!"
"No!"
"If you want me to go on a date with you tomorrow then you'll drive us home!" The Frenchman was about to say that he didn't but remembered what Ivan had told him and decided against it.
"Fine," he sighed, reaching into his pockets and pulling out his keys. "Let's go."
"So where do you guys live?" Francis asked after driving for a few minutes. He was driving home the eccentric pair of friends with Arthur sitting in the passenger and Lovino in the back. The Italian had already snoozed off.
"Stop here," Arthur ordered.
"Here?" The Frenchman looked around and saw a forest on both sides of him. "You guys live in the woods?"
"No. What? Did you not think I figured out your little plan?" the Englishman questioned with a smirk as he crossed his arms.
"My... plan?"
"Yeah. It was too obvious. First, you innocently offer us a ride home, and us not having any other choice, agree. During the car ride, you casually ask us where we live. We tell you then you drop us home. We wave good-bye and you drive away with a mischievous grin on your face because you know our address and stalk us for the rest of our lives! That's how they get you!"
"What? No!" Francis yelled, a little shocked at how the man came up the scenario. "I need your address so I know where to drop you off. Didn't you think I needed to know information when you asked, I'm sorry, ordered me to take you home?"
"Shut up! I planned for that, okay?! That's why I'm telling you to drop us off here."
"Fine." The blond pulled the car over to the side of the forest. "Go ahead."
"Lovino!" Arthur cried, looking back at his sleeping friend. "Get up! We're getting out now!"
"What? Already?" The brunette asked lazily, slowly opening his eyes. He sat up straight, stretching out his arms before looking out the window. "Whoa, where are we?! Why are we by a forest?!"
"I don't want this frog to know where we live so I told him to drop us off here. We'll only have to walk only a couple of blocks."
"What?! No! I don't want to walk home! Why can't he know where we live?"
"Isn't it obvious? First, they casu-"
"I swear to god Arthur, if you go on another one of your "That's how they get you' rants, I'll fucking slap you!"
"Whatever, just get out of the car!" the Englishman instructed, opening the car door and leaving the vehicle.
"Ugh, fine!" Lovino agreed, exiting the car also and slamming the door. "But you're carrying me!"
I'm going on a date with that tomorrow, Francis thought as he drove the car away from the bickering couple. How wonderful.
Please Review! Ta ta for now!
