Hetalia Ain't mine
(NOT) Warning: There is no smut in this chapter, nor this story due to the Author having never written smut before, though she has, indeed read it, and the fact that she, by Fanfiction guidelines, is two years younger than the Mature rating of 16. She leaves the actions which take place in the following chapter up to the imagination, and the rating on this story shall not change. Sorry to disappoint. Short Chapter is Short.
Anna had conveniently gone over to Marco's house, and France was sleeping, still out from the misunderstanding. Alfred didn't think any further about him, and carried Arthur into his bedroom, taped a "Do not Disturb" sign to the door, and locked it.
After several rounds of…erm…Parcheesi and checkers…the two were exhausted. They both laid on Alfred's bed, and simply rested in each other's company, Arthur with his eyes closed on top of Alfred's chest, Alfred running his hand thru Arthur's hair, starring up at the ceiling. Arthur loved the feeling of Alfred's chest underneath him, and in the after glow of…Parcheesi, felt the happiest he'd been in over a decade. Alfred below him sighed contently, kissing Arthur's forehead tenderly, and Arthur then reached and kissed him back, slow and steady, finally starting to believe that this wasn't a dream, that all that had happened in the last two days was truly real. Sure, there was a lot to figure out still, but all that mattered in the world to him right now was Alfred. Arthur put his hand on Alfred's naked toned chest, loving the fact that Alfred still was just as muscular as he remembered.
They were relaxing when there was a little electronic tone coming out of Arthur's pants pocket…which was over on the windowsill, having been thrown there during their rather exciting evening, along with most, no, all of their clothing.
"Damn, it's Matthew." Arthur felt Alfred stiffen under him. Arthur caressed his face before getting up and grabbing his phone. Coming back to the bed, he fiddled with the phone until he read his message, well, messages, from Matthew, who was worried about him.
"How is he? I've missed him so much all these years." Arthur found Alfred looking over his shoulder.
"He's…he has been even quieter since you left. The two of us, we've stuck together since you've been gone. I always go over for holiday dinners and such. Oh! He needs to come here—"
"No! I mean…" Alfred looked away.
"Alfred, your brother should know you're alive! Everyone else should know! The other countries, the president, Alfred, you need to come out of this hiding phase you've been in for 15 years, and back to the real world!"
"But Mattie…the man who met me at the airport, he said Mattie…didn't want me back."
"Alfred, this is the man who told you that I was married and didn't love you and now you say he told you something Matthew said? This man was a liar! Your brother had practically a mental meltdown when you were captured. When he found out you were quote on quote 'killed', he nearly died. He must know. Family is important, especially Matthew. Think of the torment he's been thru."
Alfred was conflicted, but eventually nodded his head. "Ok, fine."
"Set your alarm, we're going to the world meeting tomorrow. He'll be there, everyone will be there!"
"Ok, but can't we just stay here…"
"Don't worry, we have the rest of Civilization together." Arthur kissed his reluctant lover, feeling him relax and wrap his arms around Arthur's slim waist.
"Aww, does that mean I get no more lovin' tonight?"
"When did I give you that impression?"
USUK
Matthew sat at the semi-filled conference table, looking nostalgically at the chair next to him. Damn it, Arthur forgot to call the United Nations again to get rid of America's chair in the conference. On the other side of him, he felt a hand come down gently on top of his. He turned to his partner, a sad smile on his face.
"I thought you were over such little things, da?" Ivan ran a hand thru his Canadian lover's hair. That stupid chair! Matvey got like this whenever a reminder of his twin popped up when he wasn't mentally prepared, and all Russia could do was reassure him and comfort him. Canada missed his twin more than the world, and it had been extremely hard the first couple of years. It had been after the funeral that Russia had fully come to terms with the fact that he loved the quiet Canadian, and had to listen to the sobs still now, 15 years after.
When his lover got like this, he tried imagining losing Ukraine or…dare he say it, Belarus whenever his Matvey got like this. Just the thought was awful, so he always tried to be 'kind' at times like these.
"I still miss him."
"There is nothing wrong with that, Matvey. I always thought these meetings were more interesting with him here. Everyone is so dismal about these diplomatic things now. Cheer up. Ukraine has invited us to dinner next week!"
Canada smiled up at Russia. The man was trying his best to cheer him up. That was why Canada loved him. Russia was kind for him, and besides his sisters, Matthew was the only one to know Russia's peaceful side. Sure, he had his episodes, but no one was perfect. Russia was his rock, and without him, Matthew would never have made it for the last 15 years as a surviving twin.
Author's Note: K, so, sorry for the lack of smut. I can't write it, and I'd like to keep this story teen. Sorry if I got your hopes up.
Parcheesi and checkers made me want cheese and crackers.
Another downer, this chapter is short. I only had 45 minutes to type today. I am supposed to be sleeping.
Friends from Switzerland are coming tomorrow, so updating will be very hard this week, but I will try. I have been busy all day, sweeping the top and bottom porch, vacuuming two floors, cleaning three toilets and going to a 45 min piano practice.
THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO LOOKED AT MY DRAWING OF ANNA OR WHO REVIEWED! LOVE YOU SOOOOOO MUCH!
FUN FACT: After Richard III's nephews disappeared, the war of Roses started, and Richard was killed, and Henry Tudor, or Henry the VII, grandfather of Queen Lizzy I and Father to Henry VIII. Henry Tudor's mother was of the royal blood, but his father was the "Clerk of the wardrobe".