Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia: Axis Powers, My Chemical Romance, All Time Low, or any of the used songs in this chapter.
Chapter 2: We're Only Liars, But We're The Best
"Wake up Monsieur~."
Arthur Kirkland awoke at some ungodly hour in the morning to find someone bouncing on his legs. A wide grin was on the intruder's face as he pulled out handcuffs, dragged Arthur's feet out of bed and chained his ankles together. Panic flooded his mind as he kicked and yelled. Had some weird stranger invaded his room for sexual assault? If so, how were his brothers? His mother? What was to become of him?
Then dark, alluring blue eyes and flouncy, blonde locks appeared in his line of vision.
He then realized that Francis was the one in his bed. His mild panic turned into a full, blown-out fear and he screamed in terror.
"No! Do. Not. Want! Get away from me!" He jumped up, twisting as if to run, but tripped over the chains.
"Monsieur! Stop struggling! You'll make things difficult!"
The two grappled. Francis held Arthurs feet down while the Brit clawed at the other's head with his nails. To make things worse, Draco burst through Arthur's doorway with a baseball bat, eying the scene before him with a glare.
Then he laughed. Laughed. And walked back out.
"You wanker!" Arthur shouted after him, stopping his attack. Francis used this chance to grab the Brit's arms and shove him to the floor.
"The hell? Why the fruk are you here?"
"You have an appointment with Antonio at 6! It's 5:30 and it takes half an hour to walk to the school! You are late!"
Arthur groaned and escaped Francis' grip. After he convinced the other to release his ankles, he grabbed a towel from his closet, and shuffled into his bathroom, pushing the Frenchman away so he could lock the door.("But mon ami!" "No Francis. Just, no.")
Five minutes later, Arthur was pulling on his black and green sweater vest.
"We must run! Romano's going to kill us if we're late!"
"Why would he kill us? We're going to meet Antonio."
"Antonio said that if Romano helped us train you, he would let him eat all the churros and tomatoes he wanted at our breakfast meetings."
"And?"
"Remember what Romano said to you yesterday? About your and Antonio's child?"
"Yeah...?"
"He's really possessive when it comes to Antonio and the things his hands make."
"And?"
"You shall see with your own eyes when we get there non?"
They ran out the door only after Arthur flipped Draco off.
"We're late! We're late! If the food gets cold, Romano will have our heads!" Francis exclaimed, stuffing his pocket-watch back in his jacket.
"I still don't see why we need to be so early." Arthur grumbled. Blue eyes simply gave him a long look.
"Wait! What the bloody hell do you think you're doing? Francis! You damn wanker! I'll get my attorney all over your arse!"
"Ferme ta gueule!" ("Shut the hell up!")
"We're late Arthur. I refuse to let you down until we reach the school."
"You're going to carry me there! Hell no! Wait!"
But his outbursts were useless. Swearing and squirming, the blonde was carried all the way to the gym doors. With an extremely venomous glare sent Francis' way, he opened the door.
"You bastards are late!" Romano shouted as they walked in. As Arthur looked around for the Spaniard, he caught whiff of a succulent aroma, unconsciously taking a step towards it.
Now, no one in the Kirkland family except for Holly could really cook. Since Arthur's mother spent most of her evenings in the vet hospital, his brothers and he were the ones to cook most of the time. This didn't end very well all of the time.
So when Arthur's emerald eyes beheld a smoking hot feast of Spanish and Italian breakfast foods before him, he had to resist the urge to drool. He reaches out for a soft-looking tanned stick, only to get his hand slapped.
Scowling, Romano roughly shoved Arthur away from the banquet.
"No food until after you exercise. If you eat before running, you'll vomit idiot. And I won't be the one to clean that up."
Arthur glanced at the food longingly, and then glared at the brunette.
"That's no reason to slap my hand!"
"Would you rather I be like that French bastardo over there and slap your ass?"
Arthur cowered back. Not because Romano looked intimidating in his black hoodie. Definitely not because the others ripped, black jeans made him look like an undercover member of the mafia. Certainly not.
"Arthur? Que Tal?"
"I'm fine." Arthur hoped that this is the correct answer to the Spanish question as Antonio approached. He was in white soccer shorts and a loose blue t-shirt. The teen noted the red and yellow track shoes with a grin. Then he realized that he didn't bring any clothing suitable for physical exertion. He feels ashamed as Antonio looked him over questioningly.
But Francis quickly jumped in on his behalf, holding up a black t-shirt and white shorts with a pair of Adidas.
"Aren't you going to change mon ami?"
Arthur snatched the clothing from Francis, escaping to the boys' bathroom.
"Wow .You really are skinny. Is that natural or do have something you're not telling us?"
"You little-!"
The Frenchman tittered, wagging his finger back and forth.
"I basically just saved you from embarrassment. I suggest you don't complain. I can always take back my services mon ami. You can always be Alfred's 2nd best friend."
Arthur straightened at this.
"Why are you helping me anyway? You're supposed to be one of my worst enemies."
"Aww. You wound me."
"Don't act as if it isn't true." He said sternly, turning to face Francis with a scowl. The Frenchman held his hands up in surrender and the two fell silent. Arthur brought his stuff into a stall and finished changing in there.
"I'm only doing this because of my adoration for l'amour! It's annoying to see you pining after Alfred all the time, when you can easily grab him yourself." Francis said.
Arthur paused, sneakers half onto his feet. There was no point in objecting. The blonde had a way with twisting words around. It was one of the frog's numerous useless talents.
"I-I see." he stuttered. He unlocked the metal bathroom stall door and stepped out to find Francis looking to the sky outside the window with a wistful expression.
"Oh love. It makes us perform such stupid antics, but we'll enjoy every second of them.
Arthur almost doesn't want to make Francis move, so he just shuffled past. Thankfully, Francis scoffed (at the way he himself was acting or at something else?) and stepped away from the window, elegantly ruffling Arthur's hair on the way out of the bathroom.
"So, we'll start by stretching." Antonio said enthusiastically when Arthur reached the center of the gymnasium.
"Just do your normal stretches and I'll fix your form when necessary."
Arthur did as he was told. He bent over to touch his toes, only to get his back stepped on so he would lunge forward and have his hands hit the floor.
"Argh!" Arthur exclaimed as the back of his legs burned. The foot didn't move until Antonio counted till 20.
"You need to be really flexible comprende? You will try harder than that right?"
Arthur grumbled and continued with his task, sitting on the floor and pulling his right leg in towards him. His left leg was extended all the way out, and he reached for it. Yet again, Antonio's foot came down on his back.
"Ack!"
"I knew that black was a good choice. The blood stains won't show." Francis murmured as he watched his frenemy get stepped on. The Frenchman grinned as Arthur attempted a different pose and Antonio kicked him in the rib to get him in place. Even Romano laughed as Arthur got shoved around. The Italian had been at the end of those kicks and stomps numerous times before. At the time, it was hell. But watching someone else get the full end of it amused him.
Eventually, Arthur stopped stretching and was forced to do sit-ups. 50 sit-ups.
"Romano! Could you please hold my feet down? I want to join Arthur!"
"Why don't you use the French bastard?" The boy complained. He went anyway, to Antonio's absolute glee. Francis attempted to hold Arthur's feet down. But the blonde remembered that morning very clearly. He screamed bloody murder as he recognized the glint Francis had in his eye.
"Come on Arthur! I won't bite!"
"Yes you will! And you'll probably leave marks! Sweet Jesus! Get away from me!"
Arthur used Antonio and Romano as a barrier and set the toes of his feet under the Spanish man's back.
"Alright amigo! 50 sit ups! Let's go!"
Arthur hastily began, stomach burning when he reached 5. Antonio seemed to do it with ease in a minute and shifted to hold Arthur's feet down.
"You tired already Arthur?" He asked, hiding a grin as Arthur began to turn red from exertion.
"No!" The teen spluttered indignantly. Stupid smug Spanish wanker! With a new vigor, he continued. In six minutes he finished, a long time for fifty but it was better than his usual record. Antonio beamed at him.
"Great! Now, let's move on to push-ups," Arthur had to bite back the urge to groan. Was Alfred really worth all of this?
Yeah. And probably a lot more.
Arthur stoutly dropped to the floor. He gave Antonio a heated, determined stare from underneath his bangs.
"How many pushups?"
"20. With Romano sitting on your back."
The Italian plopped down on the blonde's spine, munching on a churro.
"Let's go bastard! I don't have an entire day to waste in this gym! And I want to finish my tortilla before I go to Home Ec!"'
"You look like a bloody girl, but you're almost as heavy as Alfred!"
"What did you say you-?"
"H-Hey Lovi! He didn't mean it! Si, Arthur?"
"Why are you defending him you jerk?"
Romano jumped off of Arthur with a huff and stormed over to the breakfast set up, causing the Spaniard to sigh.
"Finish your pushups then we'll run laps." He said before sprinting after the Italian.
"Ah~. young love."
Antonio appeared to be pleading with Lovino, who looked away with a blush. Romano muttered something, which in turn made the Spaniard throw both his arms around him.
"I bet you wish you could do that with Alfred."
"Oh please Francis. I'm only doing this so we remain best friends."
The mocking boy nodded, grin showing he really didn't believe that statement.
"Of course. Now," Francis sat down on Arthur's back.
"Finish those pushups."
"The fact that you weigh as much as my short, skinny mother is kind of alarming. Are you okay? Is there something you're not telling me?"
"Spare me the hypocrisy Arthur. I saw the way you avoided your salad during lunch yesterday."
Arthur scowled, giving up on his attempt to embarrass Francis and begrudgingly completed his pushups. Antonio and Romano came back in time to run laps. After much pleading, the Italian agreed to run with them but gave up after the first lap. Arthur was forced to go through 10 laps of torture. Antonio ran with him easily while the other two snickered at his misfortune.
Francis threw Arthur a towel as soon as it was announced that they were done. The Brit, reeking of sweat, limped to the showers. Oooh, was that his shoulder that cracked? He probably had to get that checked. Wincing, he stepped into the shower, biting back a groan of displeasure as cold water ran down his back. Arthur scowled for the fifteenth time that day as he began to dress...only to find that his normal clothes weren't there.
"Oh bugger." He muttered as he held up what the Frenchman left.
Black jeans. He hadn't worn jeans since the seventh grade. He always preferred his comfortable slacks or even cargo pants if he really wanted to dress casually. The short sleeve button down wasn't too much of a drastic change from his usual apparel. But the jeans…
No matter how much he disliked it, he had to wear the atrocity. He had nothing else to wear but a towel. And he was not going to wear that if he knew that Francis was nearby. Swallowing his pride, he hastily threw the clothing on.
What didn't kill him would make him stronger.
~S.S.C.O.T.Y~
"What the hell happened to my clothes Francis?"
The three were already eating.. The blonde looked up from his French toast, amusement lighting up his eyes. Arthur saw the beginning of a sneer pulling at the edges of his lips.
"Elizaveta has them. She'll give them back when she's done 'editing' them. She wants you to wear these." Francis held out his pair of black sneakers which Arthur quickly backed away from.
"What? Is even this too drastic for you? This isn't even half of what she's going to give you later you know."
"They're improper!"
"They are sneakers. Very modest. She has your shoes too so, unless you wish to walk around barefoot, you must wear these."
Francis tossed the sneakers at Arthur, who glared.
"No! I just wore those to run!"
"Ne soit pas egoiste! Just wear the shoes!"
He pulled them on only when the blonde raised his voice. Not because he was intimidated. He was never intimidated.
"So?"
"They're...," Arthur paused, searching for a word that wouldn't stroke Francis' ego. "Comfortable."
Apparently, this was enough to give the teen a boost, for he laughed proudly and took another bite out of his breakfast. Arthur now joined them at the table and reached for churros. But Lovino snatched the basket and the platter with sliced tomatoes, glaring at anyone that dared to eye them. The only dish left on the table was a tortilla surrounded by various breakfast meats and vegetables (There was French bread, but he would rather die than eat that shit.) Arthur took the tortilla and filled it with what he desired, and cautiously bit out of it, hoping it wouldn't spontaneously combust like his last concoction in his kitchen.
It wasn't too bad. Yes, he still preferred his normal, proper English breakfast, but it would be rude of him to ignore the dishes Antonio (and Romano apparently) worked hard to set out. Arthur took another bite, catching lettuce as it fell. No, it wasn't bad at all.
"Romano helped me make the tortilla. Do you like it?"
"H-Hey!"
"It's good." The Brit said. Romano met his eyes, blushing like a school girl, and Arthur attempted to give him a friendly grin. The Italian quickly shoved a churro in his mouth and looked away to avoid further eye contact.
Antonio laughed.
"You're so cute when you're embarrassed."
"I'm not embarrassed damn it!"
"Then why is your face so red?"
"I-!"
"We have Home Economics to get to!" Arthur exclaimed. He jumped up with Francis. Romano, face drained of all color, got up with them.
"I've got a class too! Shit! Help us clean this up before Sasagawa arrives!" They cleared the table that they used with haste. Lovino snuck a few churros into his knapsack while the Spaniard openly carried a loaf of French bread into the hallway. Francis was discreet with his buttered slice of toast and Arthur kept his mug of tea hidden within his comrade's backpack.
They got quite a few stares but, with the proper explanation, they were quickly written off as students who simply didn't get to finish breakfast at home.
"Wait a second, why are you going with us to Home Economics? You're a freshman."
Romano frowned, turning away.
"I don't feel the need to tell you."
"He's supposed to have his advanced class tomorrow, but it was cancelled. He's actually quite amazing when it comes to cooking. He and his brother can really bake. You should try their chocolate chip cookies. They're much better than your burnt up scones anyway," Francis piped.
"Bastard! My scones are…aren't considered a safety hazard."
"Yet."
"Never mind that! Is there any such thing as Advanced Home Economics?"
"Well Romano's taking it isn't he?"
"Fuck it. I made Advanced Home Ec."
Antonio ignored the two as they argued, wrapping his free arm around the Italian's waist.
"Lovi~, can you make me some cookies when we get home? I'll have my Madre make you some more churros."
Romano was quick to maneuver his way out of Antonio's hold.
"Fine. I'll only make one tray in exchange for 20 churros though."
"Thank you Lovi!"
The freshman was enthusiastically hugged before the Spaniard ran down the hall to get to his own class. Romano, a bright red, turned to find Francis staring at him with a knowing smirk. Arthur kept his gaze to the floor, feigning disinterest.
"W-What?" The Italian stuttered indignantly. The blue eyed blonde raised an elegant eyebrow.
"It appears that Arthur isn't the only one with a crush."
Both sandy blonde and dark brunette glared the teen down, shouting,
"I do not have a crush!"
Still in perfect harmony, the two sped away from the male that insisted on speaking nonsense. Romano muttered in Italian while Arthur cast a hex under his breath.
Francis watched the two of them with a smile on his face. He took his time in catching up, not really anxious to get to class. He already missed homeroom. And H.E was a bore.
They really were alike. Romano and Arthur that is. Both were terrible when it came to relationships and emotions, but were as loyal as golden retrievers when they met someone they could trust. It was only natural for Francis to repay this loyalty by helping both of their love lives.
Lord knows that they would need it.
"Oi! Francis!"
"You'd better run if you want to get to class you bastard."
Oh, how much fun he could have meddling with their emotions!
After making a quick stop at the office, where Romano conjured some riveting tale about the three of them getting caught up by some thugs, they received their tardy slips and fell into class without too much of a hitch.
Home Economics was definitely one of Arthur's worst classes. It was partly due to the fact that he was a terrible cook that burnt everything he laid his hands on, and mostly because of his teacher, Ms. Bianchi
Arthur had no idea why she was chosen to teach their class how to cook when she couldn't even boil water. (A skill Arthur picked up in the summer of 8th grade) He hardly paid her any heed and went by what the recipe book told him, afraid that her directives would make his culinary skills worse.
But Romano payed rapt attention to the lesson, laughing whenever he saw fit. When his 5th snicker cut into the classroom air, chalk began to grind and break.
The two flew into Italian, screaming rapidly. Francis laughed when Bianchi flicked a piece of cake batter in Romano's face. Romano, with the vigor of a demon, threw some batter right back. And so the food fight of Home Economics began, batter jumped and Italian words burnt down self-confidences like a flame.
At the end of that 45 minute period, the Italian boy was smiling proudly as he was sent to the office for misconduct.
"He's carried a grudge against since the 4th grade. He does his best to ruin her days."
"What did she do?"
Francis only shrugged.
Unlike their previous class, Math went as any other lesson should have gone. Their teacher, Mr. Mephisto, walked around the front of the room, scrawling problems on the blackboard as Arthur, Roderich, Vash and a few other honor roll students gave him their un-divided interest.
In the back of the classroom, however, 4 students were discussing the fate of a grouchy teenager.
A blonde Frenchman quickly wrote something on an index card, folded it up and threw it to the girl sitting next to him. Her green eyes were facing the front, but she still caught the note. She only needed to glance down once to make out the loopy script and write out her reply on the back. She feigned a heavy yawn, raising both hands over her head, then opened her right palm, letting the index card fall onto the desk of the tanned athlete behind her. He was trying to get results of the latest soccer match on his I-phone before the paper fluttered over the screen. The Latino opened it up, read the message and wrote his reply on the back. Carelessly, he flipped the paper to the albino next to him, who was also trying to get the results of the match on the athlete's phone. He didn't even bother to read the note. He wrote a few words and shoved the index card back onto the desk of the Frenchman in front of him.
'So what do you guys think of Arthur so far? What are we going to do with him?'-F.B
'He has a pretty face. I don't see pretty boys willing to go punk to often in school. He'll be a great fashion experience and challenge. I can't wait till Friday!' -Lizzy
'So weak! So skinny! He's like 10 year old Romano! Just a little less cute! I suggest we make him go organic. Protein shakes would help too.'-Antonio
'F this shit. I is awzome.' –Your Mom
White flashed as Francis beamed. He pulled out another index card and wrote another statement.
'I need to talk to all of you together at lunch. You can drag over whoever you wish, as long as we can discuss as a group. Thanks for helping.'
'Alright. Roderich's coming then. (Suck it Prussian) And no problem! Arthur's a fashion puzzle I've been dying to solve. I just never got to ask him. I should be thanking you Franny.'-Lizzy
'OK, I'll see whether Romano wants to come...Helping isn't a problem! We're amigos, si? Amigos always help each other out.' -Antony
'U and ur bf can suck mine biatch. F this shiz and that stingy Brit. Teh only reazon the grt me is helping him iz 'cause I'm bored. Mattie's cuming.'-Elizaveta SUCKS
Elizaveta didn't let it show, but she was ecstatic as she kept her eyes straight ahead. Antonio smiled briefly, and then went back to looking at scores. The Prussian gave him a thumbs up, then stuck his tongue out at the girl peevishly, and patted his Franny on the back.
Ah, it was great to have friends. Francis slyly looked up at Arthur. Soon the Brit would also know the joy of having a group of comrades, instead of one best friend that did nothing but confuse him.
Arthur was once again bombarded by people at his lunch table. Lizzy and Gil were glaring daggers at each other, holding their respective boyfriends protectively. Matt was as red as the tomato Antonio was wagging in front of Romano. Roderich adorned a pale pink when he saw the Hungarian's arms around his chest. When an argument burst out, the Brit scowled. They were loud. Loud enough to drown out Romano's constant cursing.
He covered his ears with his hands and only when he began to pray for silence did Francis call the meeting to order.
"Mes amis! We must discuss Arthur's dilemna! Matthieu, I know this topic disturbs you a bit. As long as you don't tell Alfred about this, you should be fine. "
Matthew nodded, still a dark red. All attention was now focused on the blonde as he continued his speech.
"So you're all going to help Arthur with his 'makeover'. Elizaveta is in charge of clothing and make up. Antonio has agreed to assist him with his diet and overall fitness. Gilbert is handling piercing, tattoos and attitude while I point him in the right direction for his relationship. Clear?"
"I never agreed to help him with any attitude! He's already a prissy bitch! I can't make it any-."
"You. Will. Help. Him. Or should I tell a certain someone about your little collection of-."
Gilbert was quick to cut Francis off, looking from his curious Canadian to the smirking Frenchman.
"No! No! I'll help him. Mein Gott Franny!"
"Well, I suppose we should all come to a mutual decision on what we'll do with him. Elizaveta, you're basically the one in charge of this project. What do you recommend?"
The girl straightened, pulling two sheets of paper out of her back pack. She placed one on the table. As soon as the Brit looked it over, he cringed.
"All Time Low? Is that the name of the band? Why is his hair so long? Why did he dye it blonde? And why the hell are they only in briefs?"
"This is what our end result will be. Not as extreme though and you will be wearing clothes. I'm using Alex and the boys as an example for how toned I want Antonio to make you. "
"Bee-yotch please. You just wanted to ogle at Jack Barakat shirtless."
"…Shut up Gil. As for what you'll look like with clothes on-."
She placed down the second sheet.
"This is it. I may make you look slightly more intense though. Like with piercings and tattoos, if you're not afraid of needles."
Gilbert snorted at this. Tilting his chair back, he said,
"I don't think I can even get him a tattoo. He's probably planning to have some sensible job when he gets out of college. Tattoos will ruin his future."
"Actually, I'm going to be a freelance writer or a journalist. They're allowed to have tattoos."
Surprised at the blonde's quick agreement, all turned to stare.
"I-It's not like I'm a-afraid of needles or something! Piercings I will have a problem with but-I don't know- I suppose getting a tattoo will be an interesting experience to write about."
Francis beamed at his friend as the albino begrudgingly nodded."Fine. I'll take him to Kat's in a week or two."
"Si. He's already pretty slim so I won't have to change him too much."
Francis sighed, satisfied that everyone is on somewhat of a decent plan. Whether or not Arthur would be compliant was questionable though. He cast a sideways glance at the other boy. The Brit didn't have that wretched scowl on his face and grinned whenever Gilbert and Elizaveta got into a feud over something idiotic. He was warming up to them.
"Now, let's arrange schedules. Elizaveta, tomorrow is Friday. Are we still going shopping after school?"
The brunette shoved Gilbert's face into his salad and smiled at the blonde innocently.
"Yes. We are definitely still going clothes hunting. I have a list of shops prepared and everything."
"Will money be a problem?" Francis prodded. The Hungarian shook her head, her smile turning forced.
"No. O-Of course not!"
"Where will you be getting your funds?"
"…...I have the right to remain silent."
"Okay then, we've already got an every morning schedule Antonio."
"Si."
"Wait," Gil cut in. "I'm going to need him in the morning on Saturdays."
"Move it to Sunday. I get to introduce to the commercial side of punk on Fridays so he'll be out late. If he has to get up early for Antonio, then he definitely won't have the energy to control you."
"Shut it! I need him on Saturdays and that's final."
"How about you take your 'Shut It' and shove it up your as-."
"Lizzy still gets me on Fridays, but I don't stay out past 10. Antonio can still get me in the mornings. He keeps me until around 9 on Saturdays. Then I'll just run up to the roof at noon to meet with Gilbert."
Inwardly, the Frenchman applauded Arthur for such a decision.
"I agree with you Arthur..." Elizaveta said slowly. "But what will you do from 9 to 12?"
"I'm gonna teach him how to skateboard, rebel, and listen to some damn good music." Romano stated loudly.
"Fine. We'll go with that."
"Aw. Romano wants to help after all!"
"Shut up Mom."
"Make me midget."
"You two really shouldn't fight-. Lovino!" The Italian finally managed to grab the tomato while Antonio responded. He smirked as he released the Spaniard's fingers from his teeth, tomato successfully lodged in his jaws.
"Congratulations Romano! You finally got it!"
The table now focusing on Antonio and the freshman, Francis swooped for his chance.
"You are completely okay with this, right mon ami?" He directed this question toward Arthur, who just shrugged.
"I don't want to lose my best friend so easily. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I enjoy your company or anything. But your way is the only way I see me getting my best mate back."
"I see." Francis smiled. Arthur was such a liar. He could see the humor in his eyes as he looked over at Romano and Anthony.
But Alfred. He leered over to the popular table where the athlete was munching on fries and laughing with Tino. Gilbert noticed his friend's face, where he was looking, and also glared. The popular kids. He always hated each of them with every fiber of his being. Especially Alfred. Ugh, he didn't even deserve hate from someone as awesome as Gilbert! Poor little Mattie, always being mistaken for his brother and having to hide in his shadow.
Gilbert gripped his favorite blonde's hand. Then he caught Francis' gaze. The Frenchman looked at Arthur, blinked once, nodded twice, and brought his stare back to the Prussian.
Only Gilbert and Antonio could understand this series of twitches. It was their secret code. The one they created all the way back in third grade. Although the words that they managed to remember were simple, it still helped when they didn't want someone to hear their conversations.
What Francis was saying was 'Protect'. Since he let his gaze slide over to the Brit, Gilbert could only assume that the green-eyed prick was the one that Francis intended for him to defend. The teen nodded, accepting the task just as their foe approached.
"Hi Artie!" Alfred said brightly. The American looked over his best friend's company with a faltering grin. He knew everyone there, and didn't necessarily like all of them. Especially Gilbert. His mighty awesomeness and the hero stared each other down, telepathically sending daggers into the other's head.
"Want to come sit with us?" Alfred offered his friend, letting his gaze drop. "You guys can come too." He added hastily when Elizaveta and Roderich appeared offended.
"No, he is fine." Francis slid closer to Arthur. Gilbert placed a firm hand on Arthur's shoulder, arm still around Matthew's waist, as he glared up at Alfred.
"He's alright with us. Go play with your rich ass friends. We've got him under control."
For a minute, there was hurt in Alfred's eyes. He ruffled Arthur's hair with a tight grin.
"Looks like I'm not welcome here. I'll walk you home after school 'kay?"
"Actually," Romano intervened. "He's got detention again. He's going to be staying after with Gilbert, Francis, Antonio and I."
The Brit gasped, horrorstruck. He had detention? Again? What the hell did he do this time? That wasn't going to look good on his permanent record. How was he supposed to get to Oxford? Find a decent job? Have a wife and kids?
...Oh wait. He was gay.
Alfred glared at the Italian, and then let his gaze drop.
"I never thought of you as the detention type." He laughed weakly. "I'll just walk home with Tino and Feliks then."
The blonde's stomach flipped as a crushing sense of guilt took him. Francis, realizing this, patted his hand sympathetically.
"He rejected you for Tino first. It's just a sample of revenge non?"
Suddenly, Elizaveta jumped up. Green eyes brightened.
"Revenge?" She said distractedly. "Three cheers for...Oh My Gerard! My Chem! Kill All Your Friends!"
Once again, everyone's focus was on a single individual as she grinned almost maniacally.
"I knew you were a crazy chick but this is taking it way too far." Gilbert said warily, holding Matthew next to him protectively. His body was titled, as if to shield the Canadian, as Elizaveta dug through her bag with a crazy grin. Antonio was in the same position with Romano who muttered profanities as he blushed. Roderich was the only one completely comfortable with Elizaveta at that moment. He knew his girlfriend. She wouldn't do anything drastic unless she was PMSing.
"Shoot! I left it in my other bag. Remind me to give you something after school today Arthur."
"Uh..." The boy coughed, a tad bit nervous. "S-Sure. Just make sure that it's an item won't get me suspended and/or expelled,
She shot him a confused look, and then shook her head.
"Ugh, men."
Slowly, Gilbert and Antonio eased out of 'Protection' mode. Gilbert's arm was still snug around Matthew's waist and Antonio's shoulder was touching Romano's, they wouldn't take any chances.
"I think we're all done here." Francis said just as the bell rang.
"We are. Come on Roddy. We need to get to Art."
"Did you finish your report?" Arthur heard Roderich ask lowly as the two drifted away. Gilbert yawned, murmuring something about sleep and walked off towards the roof. His Canadian boyfriend debated between going to class and following his boyfriend. Arthur laughed aloud as he turned a deep scarlet and called for Gilbert to wait.
"He's just like you!" He said to Francis. The teen snorted.
"In what way?" Blue eyes looked over the Canadian appreciatively. "I have Art with Elizaveta. We part here."
Arthur nodded and walked his own way, smiling a bit. For once, he didn't feel lonely at lunch. Alfred wasn't abandoning him for the popular kids, or forcing him to join them just so he could be ignored. Admittedly, he didn't get too much of a say in the conversation, but he was a main topic. They payed attention to him.
He kind of enjoyed it. The warm sensation in his gut told him that. Grinning broadly, he had a new skip in his step as he walked to his Music class.
-S.S.C.O.T.Y-
Romano lied. He didn't have detention that day. Mr. Vargas gave threatened to give him detention, but that was the extent of it.
Gilbert, however, did have detention. Apparently, the albino had been caught throwing frogs from the Science room into the girls' bathroom just so he could freak out a certain Hungarian. At least, that was the story Arthur heard when he found the group from lunch huddled outside. They had a clear view of Vargas' second story window from where they were standing. Arthur spied Gilbert's crimson eyes staring them down as Antonio told him the story.
"H-He," The Spaniard was stuttering with laughter. "He thought he couldn't get caught. He was running all over the place with a crate of frogs and still believed-. The idiot!"
Antonio couldn't control his giggles any longer and leant onto Romano for support. Even the stingy Italian's eyes were watering with laughter.
"That bastard impresses me though! I used to be the only one who could piss off the old man that much!"
Annoyed, he finally turned to Elizaveta for the story.
"Care to explain the rest?"
"He stole frogs from the Science Lab, dressed in black, and started pulling all these James Bond moves in the hallway. He thought no one could see him but Roderich and I practically laughed our asses off when we saw him through the door window in the art room. Francis saw him with the frogs when he was delivering something to the office. He said that Gilbert was attempting to hide from him in someone's locker."
"When I said that I could see him clearly, he completely denied the fact that he was there." Francis shook his head, laughing to himself softly. "He's such an idiot."
"I don't know the rest of the story." Elizaveta admitted. She pointed at the two who were pounding their fists against the ground in a fit of giggles.
"But those two do."
"Actually," Matthew began. Arthur jumped, startled. When the Canadian got there, he had no idea. "I know what happened."
"Enlighten us please." Roderich requested. "I'm rather curious as to what that moron was doing also."
"Well, as Lizzy said, he was doing all these tricks to get down the hall. He really did believe that no one could see him. I saw him when I was Study Hall. I followed him to the bathrooms, and then he made his mistake."
"What was his mistake my dear cousin?"
Even Matthew snickered as he re-accounted the next part of the story.
"He released the frogs into the boys' bathroom instead of the girls'. And Vash was in there. The frogs jumped into his pants and…well, I'm sure you guys can guess what happened next."
Soon, the entire group was in hysterics. Teachers that were leaving shook their heads at the sight, wondering what their beloved country was going to end up like in the hands of the next generation.
Ten minutes later, the laughter died away and they were only plagued by the occasional giggle.
"Quick! He's looking this way! Everyone, point and laugh or make Peter Pan signals!"
Curiously, Arthur stared as Elizaveta placed her thumb on her nose and wiggled her fingers. Some followed suit, others simply pointed, feigning snickers. Without skipping a beat, Gilbert flipped them off and turned around.
"We'd better bail him out then. Or else he'll kill us as soon as he escapes."
Flexing his wrist, Romano picked up a few rocks from the ground.
One by one, stones hit the screen. Those inhabiting the room could hear it. Red eyes flickered back to look at them the first time, and were full-on staring as the Italian threw the missiles. Francis waved twice and clapped. In response, the Prussian grinned and snapped thrice, then stuck out his tongue.
"You guys should go hide somewhere unless you want to find your own asses in that hellhole."
Elizaveta and Roderich were the first to heed Romano's advice.
"We shall be waiting for you at the end of the first sidewalk." The dark haired man informed. They quickly sped off.
Matthew just disappeared. Arthur doesn't know how he does it, or when for that matter, but by the time Arthur realized that the Canadian hadn't spoken for a while, he was gone.
Francis and Antonio grabbed the Brit's shoulders and steered him to the side of the school just as the window opened. Julius Vargas glared out to his grandson, screaming in Italian,
"Lovino! What the hell are you doing?"
Romano replied with a bored drawl, but the same vigor his grandfather held was in his eyes.
"Throwing stones! What does it look like?"
"Why?"
"Because I want to!"
"That is no reason! Why can't you just grow up and be more like your brother?"
Gilbert jumped onto the three, just as Arthur spied the Italian boy backing down, as if struck. They all went tumbling to the floor, but the albino quickly recovered.
"We've got to hurry! I'm pretty damn sure Ludwig saw me and he's going to tell Feli. Vargas is going to find out soon!"
"He saw you this time huh? I thought no one could do that. What happened to 'You can't see me?"
Francis asked mockingly. Pale lips scowled.
"Shut up. Let's run."
Arthur couldn't help but look back at Romano with mild concern. The boy looked dejected and his grandfather appeared almost remorseful, clutching his orange textbook.
"L-Lovino…"
The Italian ignored his grandfather, running to the gates.
"L-Let's go already idiots!" His voice was strangled. The freshman was…thrown off. Antonio quickly dropped back and hugging the Italian's shoulder. Romano buried his face into the Spaniard's shoulder, shuddering.
"Leave them alone. Just walk." Gil commanded.
Matthew was chatting happily with Roderich and Elizaveta at the end of the sidewalk. Their bright discussion quickly faded, however, as they approached.
Elizaveta's eyes just had to glance at Romano for her to approach the freshman. Francis left the Italian's side to allow the girl to rub soothing circles into the boy's back, speaking to him softly, as if she were his elder sister or mother.
Gilbert joined Matthew, catching his lips briefly before smiling devilishly. Francis, seeing this as an act of misconduct, jumped in the middle of the two and ensured that they weren't touching.
Which left Roderich and Arthur to hold a conversation among themselves.
An awkward silence hung about the two. Arthur scanned his brain for a conversation topic, when Elizaveta's soothing voice hit him head on.
"Ah, that's right! I would like to thank you for letting your girlfriend help me out."
"It is no problem." Arthur recognized the boy's accent as Austrian. "This gives me more time to practice with my piano."
"Oh you play?"
"Yes," Roderich smiled."I've been playing since I was 5."
Another relapse into silence.
"What of you?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you play any instruments?" Roderich asked as they stop before a busy intersection.
"The guitar. Both acoustic and electric."
"How long?"
"Since I was 9 years old." Arthur replied. He grinned fondly at the memories that came flooding in. Draco, at the age of fifteen, was the one who taught him how to use his first acoustic guitar. He picked up the basic gist of the strums pretty fast. He diligently practiced with his old guitar. From early in the morning to late at night, he was working with it in his room. His fingers were terribly wounded. (Draco didn't want his little brother to lose his only pick and his Mum refused to buy him gloves) But he felt accomplished whenever he managed to play entire songs or mastered a new technique his brother taught him. And when he showed it to Alfred, he was ecstatic. The feeling of pride that welled up inside of his chest when he saw the other's blue eyes light up always managed to lift his spirits. Learning with his eldest brother was amusing as well.
Until their father left.
"You really play? That's amazing!" said Elizaveta as she caught up with the two. Arthur nodded as he looked back at Romano, who was still hugging his Spaniard friend. The teen was sniffling, eyes and cheeks a deep scarlet. He never considered Romano the type to cry. What did his Grandfather say?
"I'm not a professional though." Arthur admitted when he turned back to the Hungarian. The girl grinned, grabbing Roderich's hand and hoisting it in the air.
"That's okay. This guy isn't a professional either, but he can really play."
"E-Eliza," Roderich began, reddening. Gilbert jumped in suddenly, saving the Austrian extra embarrassment.
"Did you tell him about your singing?"
"G-Gil!"
"This girl knows how to hit high and low notes. She can be an alto, soprano, or tenor. It's unnatural! It' s a shame she's such a damn bit-!" Gil was cut off when Elizaveta kicked him in the shin. The Prussian went down, clutching his leg with a howl.
"You hoe! I fuckin' swear I'll kill you one of these days!"
"That's fine. I'll make sure I resurrect and kill you back." The two glared, electricity cracking between them. Roderich and Matthew tried to break up the tension while Francis sidled up to Arthur.
"She truly knows how to sing. Roderich and Elizaveta perform so wonderfully when they're together. I wonder what'll happen when they add your guitar..."
"Oh, no!" Arthur exclaimed. He jumped away from Francis before the Frenchman could place his arm around him. "I cannot play with them."
"Why not?"
"B-Because-."
"Leave the guy alone you wine-guzzling idiot! He can't play for shit! Don't annoy him for it!"
Arthur wasn't sure whether to thank or slap Romano for his comment. At least he had his sarcastic vigor once more. The Italian walked right up to the two and grabbed Arthur's arm.
"You. Can you actually play anything?"
"I can play! Better than you, I'm sure!" Arthur exclaimed, pulling his hand back. Romano turned scarlet, about to curse him out, but Antonio chose to speak up.
"Then prove it! I want to hear you play!"
"I do as well mon ami. I've only heard their same old songs on repeat. A new chord would be interesting."
Francis smirked. The jerk knew that Arthur really didn't want to play, and the Brit knew that he knew.
"I-I can't play now! I don't have a guitar!"
"Then sing!" Gilbert shouted suddenly, throwing an arm about the Brit.
'I feel like dancing tonight!' He bellowed. Arthur winced.
'I'm gonna party like it's my civil right!' sang Antonio, also circling his hand around Arthur's shoulders. Romano doesn't sing, but snuck his way next to Antonio before Francis also joined the line, yelling,
'It doesn't matter where!'
'I don't care if people stare!' Elizaveta sang with a laugh. Arthur was surprised. The girl was a lovely singer. The others weren't exaggerating. Was Roderich also as good as they claimed? Elizaveta grabbed her boyfriend's hand and Matthew's ("E-Eh?"), dragging them so they could also join the procession.
'Cause I feel like dancing tonight!'
The four screamed into the afternoon. Arthur listened with interest as they release the rest of the song into the Fall air, laughing like idiots.
'Everybody gettin' kinda crunk
I think some dude just grabbed my junk
Now I know how Ke$ha must be feelin'
Bros tried to turn me upside down
I put a keg tap to my mouth
But that's okay,
I'm dancing on the ceiling'
They were like this all the way to his street. Even Romano and Matthew joined in for the chorus. Arthur didn't join. He would hate to make a fool of himself and he didn't know the lyrics.
But, he couldn't help but think, their actions still kind of entertaining and...fun?
The British teen quickly banished the thought from his mind. They were Francis's friends he was talking about. Anyone who hung out with the French perv wasn't good news.
But...Romano wasn't too vile when you got past all the curses. Elizaveta and Roderich weren't too bad. Matthew was already an acquaintance. Antonio was pleasant when they weren't exercising. And Gilbert...well at least he knew how to make someone laugh through his stupid blunders.
Wait. What was he saying? He only knew them for a day! How stupid of him!
"Hey Art, ain't this your house?"
'Isn't.' The blonde thought, correcting the red-eyed teen.
"Yeah. Guess I'll go. Goodbye then."
"Wait!"
Elizaveta broke formation and jumped forward.
"Don't I get a goodbye hug? Friends don't leave friends without giving hugs!"
She grabbed his hand and pulled him close to her, thumping his back, then pulling back and performing a 'Peter pan' signal. Seeing how lost Arthur appeared, Roderich laughed.
"It's what they call a 'Bro Hug' S.S style. It's kind of their signature hello-goodbye greeting."
"Don't say 'their' Roderich. You know you're already one of us." The girl scolded.
"Here, let us show you." Matthew and Gilbert performed the ritual slowly. They grabbed each other's palms and pulled close, looping their arms around the other's shoulder to slap their back three times before pulling back, releasing their mock-handshake, and bringing their right hand up sideways so that their thumb could touch their nose and wiggled their fingers.
"Now you try it."
Awkwardly, Arthur turned to Gil. The albino guided him through it with a firm grip.
"You've got the basics down. With practice it'll become easier. You have to give one to everyone else before we can leave."
"Why do you guys do that?"
" 'Cause it's fun." Romano said with a shrug. The blonde went through the line of teens, the motions becoming more fluent with each. By the time he reached Elizaveta once more, he had the movement down pat.
They embraced, and then she pushed a case into Arthur's hands.
"Take this CD and listen to it. It's more Rock-Alternative than it is punk, but I think you'll like it. Bye best friend!"
"G-Get home safe then."
A chorus of farewells were uttered as the group moved down the street. Arthur waved, before sprinting into his house and up to his bedroom.
HE HAD FRIENDS! Friends that didn't run away after they realized how stingy he could be! Alfred used to be the only one! He had to hold in a girlish squeal as he looked at what Elizaveta gave him.
He had friends that loan him casual things like CDs!
"I have friends!" He yelled triumphantly.
"Do you really? That's great cousin!"
...Five minutes later, Arthur's room was clean and Peter-free. Collapsing on his bed, he took his CD player off a nearby shelf and threw the disc in.
Now come one come all to this tragic affair
Wipe off that makeup, what's in is despair
So throw on the black dress, mix in with the lot
You might wake up and notice you're someone you're not
If you look in the mirror and don't like what you see
You can find out firsthand what it's like to be me
So gather 'round piggies and kiss this goodbye
I'd encourage your smiles I'll expect you won't cry
Slowly but surely, a grin grew on Arthur Kirkland's face. He would like this CD. He would like it a lot.
"Hey, Franny?"
"Oui, mon petite souer?" ("Yes, my little sister?")
Elizaveta bit her lip, constructing her sentences carefully.
"You've never really approved of someone changing themselves in the pursuit of l'amour, so why start now? I mean, when Gil tried to become more gentlemanly to get Matthew, you got mad and yelled-Well that won't count 'cause it was Matt. But when I told you I wanted to be more feminine so I could date Roderich, you freaked. So why aren't you mad about Artie?"
The male nodded along to her words, staring into the rose he stole from Holly's garden. As he twirled the flower, a petal fell, landing at his feet as he stopped walking.
"Elizaveta, you are a woman of independence as much as Gilbert is a man who loves his individuality. You both know who you are, and you knew it back then. And you were happy with yourselves. When I heard that you wanted to change, I got mad because I knew that you wouldn't be happy after doing it. You wouldn't be the version of yourself that you love and cherish,
"I want Arthur to know himself and where he stands on things. He has to be comfortable with himself like you and Gil. The only reason I pulled Arthur away from Alfred and the rest was because I saw that he wasn't happy. Don't look so shocked, even we care for each other just a bit. I want him to change, not so he can get Alfred, but so he can be himself without restricting to what society expects. I want him to learn about his own individuality and how it feels to be surrounded by people who want to be friends because they respect and like his diversity. I want him to have true friends. But most importantly, I want to teach him how it feels to have fun, the Sophomore Slumps style."
It took a few minutes for Elizaveta to swallow the lump in her throat.
"I…I never knew you felt that way. I kind of guessed that you had another motive but…Oh my Gerard Franny-pants, I love you. You're like, the best fake older brother in the world. When I get married to Roderich, I want you to be my bridesmaid."
"Uh…Okay then?"
The two shared a laugh, unaware of the blue eyes glaring at them from a window parallel Arthur's house. Francis Bonnefoy may have thought ripping Arthur Kirkland away from the jocks table would be easy, but it sure as hell wasn't.
Once a member of the In-Crowd, always a member.
/S.S.C.O.T.Y/
Thanks for the reviews, alerts, and faves guys! They mean a lot!
Almost 9k. I think I'll start cutting chapters down a bit. And get a lot more USUK scenes. Review! And please vote in my poll as to whether you prefer long or short chapters! Both really inspire me to work on this more often.