Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, Tyra Banks, America's Next Top Model, Oprah, Queen Latifah, Converse, Fall Out Boy, or Kelly Clarkson.

Chapter 5: Of All the Gin Joints In All the World

"Yo, dude, Francis has this crazy obsession with Tyra Banks."

"Really? You're bloody kidding me!"

"It's all legit. If the bastard misses one episode of America's Next Top Model, he'll bitch and whine for the entire week."

Arthur laughed into his cell phone.

Romano was a total riot! The Italian had texted him last night, reminding him of their meeting, and they carried out a full-blown conversation of totally random topics until midnight.

Around 7, the freshman had called, reciting a good morning with Antonio. While Arthur got ready, they chatted about little things. Arthur liked the teen's sarcasm and dark sense of humor. Not to mention all the stories about Francis and co.

"He impersonates her all the time. But Gil's worse."

"Gil likes Tyra Banks?"

"Nah man. Queen Latifah."

"What?"

"Then Antonio loves Oprah. It's, like, crazy."

"What's up with the Bad Touch Trio and famous black woman?" Arthur inquired picking up a pair of jeans to change into.

"You should see how they get when they hear Kelly Clarkson on the radio."

"Sounds frightening."

"Arthur Kirkland! I've been calling you for how many…!"

Holly found her usually timid, socially awkward son trying on black skinny jeans and a t-shirt in front of a mirror with a sports bag at his side and talking on the phone while laughing.

"Honey, what in God's name are you doing?"

"Dressing?"

"W-What happened to your dress pants? Your button downs? W-Wha-?"

"It's the new style Mrs. K."

To make matters worse, in walked Francis Bonnefoy, cheshire cat grin and all.

"Really now?"

"Oui, mademoiselle. Only the finest. It's all the rage in London and Paris. Even major designers in New York City have heard about this fresh new look. And you know how the Americans are. Always 8 hours behind."

The blonde was an amazing actor. The Drama Club had to value him. With a flamboyant hand gesture, the teen's arm was wrapped around Arthur's shoulders. Ever graceful, he took Arthur's cell.

"We'll be there in a couple minutes mon ami."

"Where are you boys going?"

"Just down to the school to meet some friends."

"Friends? Arthur?"

"Mum!"

The woman smiled. She was absolutely bewildered. (You could tell by the way her fingers were twitching.) But if her anti-social son had friends, then perhaps the sudden change was for the best. Besides, he didn't look uncomfortable in the new clothes.

"Have fun sweetie! Do you boys want breakfast before you head out?"

"May I have a slice of bread and-?"

"Non, mon ami. No white bread. Toni says it's bad. We'll eat out Mam. Please don't trouble yourself."

She gave the two a look and then brushed her hair back.

"Make sure you're safe Artie."

"Sure mum."

As soon as the two blondes left, already bickering about some football match, Holly marched right into her eldest son's room.

"Draco!"

The red head thrashed, looking about confusedly, making her roll her eyes. At least he was a light sleeper.

"Arthur has new clothes that I most certainly did not buy as well as new friends he can talk on the phone and laugh with. Tell me all you know and then follow them to make sure he is not getting into anything shady."

It didn't take long for pine green eyes to light up deviously. A maniacal grin on his face, the man grabbed his cell phone off his bedside table.

"I'll tell you everything. But I'll have someone else follow them. Got it Màthair?"

He didn't wait for Holly's affirmative. His fingers automatically dialed the number of the high school student who would love to dig out any local gossip:

Feliks Łukasiewicz

-S.S.C.O.T.Y-

"Run skinny ass child run!"

"Ugh, shut up Romano."

"You bitch. I was trying to be more encouraging."

"Encouraging my arse."

"You two seem close." Antonio stated with a grin. Arthur glared at the Italian, who leered right back. But neither could stop the smile growing on their faces.

"Me? And British prick over there? Naw."

The 'British prick' dropped to his knees when he finished his last lap.

"Likewise. Romano is way too much of a whiny wanker for me.'

"Hey-!"

"Alright. Alright. Go take a shower Arthur. We're done for today. Romano, you set up."

The blonde staggered toward the men's room. When he approached Francis, who was sitting on the edge of the bleachers, he caught him by the shoulder.

"So…Tyra Banks huh?"

"Sacrebleu! Who told you? It was Romano wasn't it?"

With a wild laugh, Arthur tossed a red-faced Francis a crude remark and his favorite freshman a warning. Once he disappeared into the boy's locker room, Francis quickly turned to Romano.

"How are you closer to Arthur than moi? And why would you tell him about my-uh-issues?"

The Italian shrugged, picking up a water bottle.

"We just talked ponytail-boy."
Self-consciously, the teen nudged his white hair tie.

"Maman said it made me look sexy." He murmured just as Romano began,

"He's not too much of a dick, I guess. Once he lets loose, he gives some real smart ass remarks. If he were more himself instead of a gentleman all the time, I would trust him to play pranks on oblivious civilians. That's it though. We're not friends or anything like that."

Antonio snorted.

"Uh-huh. Sure Roma."

"Look, maman's here!"

With a scowl and flip of her flaxen hair, Elizaveta fixed Francis with a glare so hot even the Italian could feel it.

"I am not your second mother Franny. Stop it."

"You let Matthieu call you mommy."

"But not you. So where's my little Artie?" Green eyes looked frantically for her self-proclaimed 'British brother'.

"Showering. Madrecita, donde esta Gil?"

The girl kicked the Spaniard, setting his shin afire. She took his piece of toast and muttered,

"Don't know. Don't care. Roderich's coming in about ten minutes though."

"Why exactly are you here?"

"To see what Arthur's going to get as a tattoo."

"I hope I don't get anything too extreme. Mum would hang me if I did."

Aforementioned teen walked out, wet towel hanging around his bare shoulders. With a grunt, he collapsed next to Elizaveta.

"Working with Antonio really has toned your abs mon chere."

"Stop drooling and give me my shirt back Francis."

After he threw his shirt on, he lifted a premade cup of tea (courtesy of Romano) to his lips and grinned as he regarded the girl, mischief bright in the eyes that reminded the teen of her own.

"Top of the morning to ye' Mummy."

"Oh haha. Very funny testvér."

"What?"

"It means brother."

"No need to fear! His Prussian Awesomeness is here!"

"Yay! Gil's here! Now we can all laugh at someone that's actually funny!"

The albino promptly flipped Elizaveta off. After a short butt wiggle dance, he sat right on Francis's lap.

"Your boyfriend's out-I swear Franny. If your hand brushes my junk one more time I will burn your fingers off."

"It was an accident!"

"It didn't look like much of an accident to me eh."

"M-Matthew!" The blonde gave Francis one long look, then stared at the hand on Gilbert's waist.

"Your hands look mighty frail, eh. Fragile enough to be broken by-I don't know- a hockey stick maybe?"

His smile grew, curls falling over his slightly pink cheeks. Any stranger would think he was cute. But the others looked at him with eyes wide open and blood running cold.

"Fuck man, Mattie's pissed off! Get the hell away from Gilbert Franny! Before he goes all Ivan-The-Enforcer on us!"

"Gilbert be a good ol' chap and console him or something before we all face a crisis."

The albino said a silent prayer, swallowed the lump in his throat, and went into the danger zone. Relieved, the others watched as he played with the Canadian's hair and drew circles on his back, whispering softly. Antonio shuddered.

"Matthew is so frickin scary. Like a bipolar demon."

"You don't know the half of it. You should have seen him at the dinner party of-."

"07?" Francis questioned. After Arthur nodded, he grimaced.

"It was horrendous. He just so happened to 'drop' his hockey stick on Alfred leg after he took the last biscuit."

"If I recall correctly, he 'accidentally' shaved the back of your head when you were asleep."

"Stop! We all promised never to speak about that! But, mon dieu, that dinner party was scary."

With a sharp "Oh!" Romano snapped his fingers.

"That's right! That damn party is today! The barbecue!"

"Le gasp! And you did not invite moi? Even though I am the best chef out of all of us?"

"I did invite you. All of you."

Antonio's nose crinkled as he struggled to remember. Once he found nothing within the depths of his mind, he pouted and pointed an accusing finger at the Italian.

"No you didn't Roma! You fib!"

"I did invite you bastards, damn it. I broke into your houses in the middle of some night, invaded your bedrooms, and whispered your invites into your ears while you were asleep."

"…That's not creepy at all Romano."

"I'm serious Mami. I've got one of your lacy bras to prove it too. C-cup huh? Nice."

"That is so fucking creepy. Like, Francis level creepy." The freshman shrugged off the comment and took his backpack upon his shoulder.

"Don't come. We're going to have much more fun dancing and eating without you. Besides, Roderich's saved you so much food."

Grinning cheekily, Antonio turned to Arthur to explain.

"That's his way of saying: 'You're all welcome to come. I can teach you to dance and there'll be lots of food. Which I'm sure you'll need because Roderich's being a fat ass and consuming most of the food. And I love how sexy Antonio's curls look in this fluorescent lig-. Ow! I was just joking Roma!"

To confirm this, the Brit turned to look at the Austrian. Roderich wiped his mouth with a handkerchief, cup of tea in hand, and gave the blonde a curt nod.

"Good morning Roderich."

"Same to you Arthur."

"Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Yes, very much so."

"That's good."

"A-hem. Before we go anywhere, I trust that you have it Gil."

All present turned to the albino expectantly. With a curious interest, Arthur watched as the delinquent pulled something from under his hoodie. A sketchbook, to be precise.

"Franny told me that you have a zoo for a household. Then Mattie told me about your lion-cat-pet-wild-animal thing-." "Valor." He asserted as his friend began flipping through pages.

"Yeah. And they both started telling me 'bout how much you loved that thing."

"Actually, Al told me then I told Gil."

"And then," He gave Matthew a look. "I came up with this."

Fingers stopped flipping through thin sheets of color, Arthur gasped, heart pausing for a bit. During his time with Francis's friends, he had heard much about Gilbert's artistic ability, and even saw the small doodles he created on napkins. But he never guessed the teen was that good. Good enough for Arthur to not mind the thought of the albino's art etched into his skin.

"I-It's-I…Wow."

"Rendered speechless by my awesomeness. Don't worry. It's happened to everyone I know."

Indeed, he was speechless. But by the details of the drawing before him rather than Gilbert himself. It was the typical coat of arms lion that dyed the paper before him, caught in mid roar. It's mane flowed freely, every last feature capture by black ink. Out of the mane flowed a scroll that surrounded the lion's feet. It was the flag of England that took over the scroll. Valor's name was written inside the flag in beautiful calligraphy. But Arthur's favored addition was the crown resting on its head. The silver of the head ornament looking stunning against the dark lion. But the simplicity of the crown stood apart from the rest, making it seem as if it were a tattoo he received later just to compliment the lion.

"It's going to be a bitch for your first tattoo. Especially all the details and shit. Uh, we can make it more simple if you wanna."

Emerald green met ruby reds.

"It's perfect. When and where can I get it?"

The last thing Arthur Kirkland expected was for Gilbert Beilschmidt to blush a vibrant red and turn away.

"U-Uh, I was thinking upper arm or shoulder blade area."

"Wait, Gil, what about stretching? What if he grows fatter as he gets older?"

"I actually have an extremely fast metabolism. Not to mention the fact that I've only gained and then lost 3 pounds since 7th grade. I'm not really a heavy eater. Don't even get me started on my height."

"Ha! Kirkland's a midget!"

"I'm taller than you Vargas."

"Never mind that. How are you two going to get it legally? I don't think your mother is going to let you get a tattoo eh. She freaked out when Draco got a piercing. And those aren't even permanent. Not to mention the money it'll cost."

Arthur smirked deviously, and for a second, the Bad Touch Trio saw a bit of themselves in his eyes.

"I can pay for it. I already have my entire college fund set aside, so between work and allowance, I should have $200 bucks in a month or two. And if Mum doesn't want me to have a tattoo, then I suppose I'll have to sneak off like Draco did. This actually means something to me."

"How so?"

Arthur lay flat on his back and glared up at the ceiling as if it were to blame.

"Valor's being sent back to Europe this year so he can 'mate' and join 'his true society'."

"Well he had to get laid eventually."

"His name means 'bravery'. And that's exactly what he brought me. The confidence to stand up and fight against all the bullocks whether it be my brothers…or the eighth grade bully that was Francis."

"Hehe…Je suis desole."

The Brit ignored the apology.

"It'll be nice to have something to remind me to keep the courage. And the tattoo will last longer than photos or writing or perhaps even my own memory."

"Yes but your mother-."

Romano slammed his hand down on a bench, commanding attention.

"I'm leaving damn it! Decide on what you're going to do till next week for all I care! And don't drag your sorry asses to my family's party."

Antonio leaned into Arthur's space. "That's his way of saying: We're leaving. Decide on this next week. We have to hurry if we don't want to miss the party. Antonio, I think you have a really cute bu-."

"Romano, you could just say that you wish for us to attend your luncheon."

"Tch…bastards."

"Mon dieu. Fine then Roma. The BTT and company will attend your whatever it is."

"Fuck yeah party! I hope there's cake!"

"I hope Roma makes cookies!"

"I hope I don't have to hit either of you with a frying pan before we get there."

"Calm down, eh. There's no need for a frying pan…when you can use a hockey stick."

"B-Birdie?"

The group slowly gathered their things and left. As Arthur approached the exit, his ears caught something peculiar.

"Shh! Tori, we'll get caught!"

Alarmed his head whipped around. Francis, seeing this act, gave him a look that read worry.

"Are you alright?"

"Y-Yeah. Suppose I'm just hearing things."

"It's not the first time for you. What was it that you used to see in fifth grade? Ah yes, flying mint bunny?"

"Shut your trap."

When the exiting door had finally closed, the hallways were silent. Until 2 pairs of green eyes peeked out of a custodian's closet.

"Like, Tori, I totally think they're gone."

"They said they were going to Feliciano's barbecue."

A perky blonde jumped out of the closet, a grin on his face. He dusted off his light pink t-shirt, whilst saying,

"And Arthur's is, like, planning on getting a tattoo."

A brown haired teen followed after him, dark green jacket bringing out his eyes in the little sun they had.

"Do we call Draco now?" Toris Laurinaitis asked.

"No," said Feliks Łukasiewicz.

"We need to call Al first."

There, within that hallway, a plot started; a plan that would surely end in tears, heartbreak and envy.

~S.S.C.O.T.Y~

"Romano! You're late! And you…you brought friends!"

A bubbly brunette answered when they rang. With eyes as golden as her son's, Luisa Vargas looked at the group with nothing but excitement.

"Good Afternoon Mrs. Vargas!" they chorused.

"Hello boys…and Elizaveta."

As they filed in, she beamed and gave each an individual greeting.

"Antonio, figlio mio, Romano and Feli made cookies. They are in the backyard."

"Grazie Mama Vargas!"

Grinning like a madman, the Spaniard darted through the mansion. Gilbert tried to sneak after him, but he was caught by his collar.

"If you break anything again Gilbert, I will kill you. Multiple times."

"Yes mam!"

"Roderich, Feli made tea. It's right by the pastries. Oh, and Romano thought you might like pancakes Matthew."

"Mama!" Luisa tapped her son on the nose.

"Shush! Go help your friends! Francis, we tried to make chicken like you showed us. Could you taste it? I'm not sure whether we prepared it right."

"It would be my pleasure."

"Elizaveta, Feli and Ludwig are upstairs. You know what you must do." The girl raised her camera, cackling evilly. Pride took Luisa as she looked over the girl as she slunk up the steps.

"And…oh, who is this?"

Timidly, Arthur stared at his Converse.

"Arthur Kirkland."

"So you're the one who he's been talking to. Well, as Antonio says, 'Mi casa es su casa.'. Enjoy yourself okay?"

"U-Uh, thank you madam." A burst of red spread across his face as the woman kissed him on both cheeks.

"Please, don't mind Roma. He gets into such a mood sometimes. But he seems to like you so you won't see his bad side too often." "He's…a great friend. One of my closer ones actually. And that occurred overnight." Luisa grinned.

"Stupefacente!"

"I beg your pardon?"

" 'Amazing' is what I said in Italian. Romano can't open up to people until 5 months after he's met them. The only exceptions are Eliza and Toni. Oh, I must tell Giotto about this! Enjoy the party Arturo!"

As red as Antonio's favored tomatoes, he strolled in, too embarrassed to notice the majestic, grand estate, let alone the scuff marks he was leaving on the white tiles. He couldn't look Romano in the eye when he reached the backyard. In fact, he kept as far away from him as possible, flitting about Matthew, Roderich, Gilbert and even Ludwig as the day wore on. At one point, however, he was found out. Romano chose to make him aware of this by throwing a soda can at his head.

"Blimey! Are you mad?"

" 'Course Skinny Bitch. You've been ignoring me the whole day, even though I was the one that allowed you to come."

"No I haven't."

"Yes, you have. But not anymore. C'mere Skinny Bitch. I will teach you how to dance."

"W-Wha?"

The Italian grabbed his hand, and drew him to the center of all the action, where people were jumping, fist-pumping and screaming.

"Watch me and remember everything. There's some really quick steps to this song."

"I can't Roma. I'll look like a bloody fool."

"You always look like a fool Kirkland. But if you don't do whatever the hell I say, I'll make you look even stupider."

Arthur didn't scold the freshman for his poor grammar. Aware of his history teacher's eyes on him, he kept his gaze directed at the dirt.

"Just do what I do. It's easy if you make it easy."

Slowly, Romano taught him the steps, and then picked up the pace as the song got faster. It was hard to bend his knees in his jeans, and he was sure that he looked awkward next to the Italian. But, sometime around when the two screwed the routine up and improvised with the Charlie Brown, all of his insecurities were forgotten. Arthur didn't know when the smile crept up to his face, or how he managed to fall into step with the freshman. But screw it. He was having fun. Until Vargas flipped him backwards through the air. Of course, the fact that he landed on his two feet shocked him more than the launch.

"Damn Artie! You killed it!" Romano jumped on him in a tight embrace, which he didn't fail to return whole-heartedly.

"What did I kill exactly?"

"Shut up you cheeky, little, whore! Mio Dio, I'm so proud of you!"

"Ve~!"

"Oh hell."

Feliciano was the exact opposite of his brother. Despite their similar looks, their personalities were like day and night. Feli, Arthur decided, would be the sun shining in the day. His smile and the glow in his light brown eyes spoke volumes.

"That was amazing Arthur! Did fratello teach you?"

"He taught me everything up to the end." The Brit gave the stingier Italian a look, but Romano glare past him, toward his approaching parents.

"Romano my darling, that was-!"

"Yeah, I know mom. Come on skinny bitch."

Already accustomed to his new nickname, Arthur sped away with the dancer, retreating deep into the high garden hedges. By the time the sight of the party was blocked from their view, their pace had slowed. The flowers growing in the garden was to be appreciated, a task Arthur took on willingly. Whoever took care of the gardens really seemed to have a love for the plants. He, a common gardener, could find no fault.

"Oh, uh, Antonio comes by sometimes to help my mom with the gardening. He really helps with the olives and the fig trees."

Almost lazily, the Italian sat on a stone bench, adorned with cherubs, plucked a tomato and bit, juices trailing down his chin.

"You seem annoyed."

"I don't usually dance in front of family. I mean, I want them to notice me, but they only seem to comment on it as soon as everyone else praises me. I prefer dancing with strangers. Their comments are more…genuine y'know?"

"He has no problem with us though!" Antonio appeared from behind an apple tree, the rest following with various fruits and flora in their hands.

"Che. Should've known you bastards would follow us."

"Ignoring that statement~! Believe it or not, Roma loves us Artie."

"Fuck no I don't!" Gilbert tittered, the act made comical by the crown of tulips in his hair.

"Last time I checked, you willingly chose to become a Sophomore Slump."

Arthur's questioning look was met with a quick explanation from Matthew, who materialized by a rose bush.

"It's our group's official name."

"The Sophomore Slumps: Friends that are outcasts, infamous, or associated with someone that pertains to the two."

Elizaveta's sharp intake of breath, drew all eyes to her figure. She pointed a finger at Arthur, staring him down.

"We still need to make you a Sophomore Slump."

"P-Pardon?" The garden was silent as the others stared at the Brit. He gulped as Veneciano's laugh was carried through the air.

"Do you want to be one of us Kirkland?"

Gilbert was the one to ask the question on everyone's mind. Arthur expected himself to hesitate, to think about the offer and what it entailed. How it may affect him and Alfred's friendship. If he hadn't grown in the time that he was with the group, he would've been reluctant to be considered a member of the same group as Francis and friends. But he had grown attached. And the part of his heart that grew attached took over the rest in mere seconds. And so, without a single doubt in his mind, the answer that left Arthur's mouth was,

"Yes."

Shoulders relaxed and bated breaths released. An almost joyous feeling engulfed all but Roderich. Navy blue eyes met his with nothing but concern.

"I'm glad you feel that way, but kissing Francis is part of the initiation."

At this piece of information, the hesitation took over in crashing waves. Seeing this, Antonio jumped into action.

"We're not going to force you or anything. You'll still get to hang out with us even if you don't join. But we won't have to-."

"Let's just get it over with."

"E-Eh?"

The quarter of his heart that grew attached was a fighter. And a wise one at that. It took over Arthur's mouth before hesitation could let an objection break through.

"Let's just get on with it. If I hang out with Alfred's group, I'll feel left out because I'm not a jock. And if I hang out with your group, I'll feel left out because I'm not a Sophomore whatever. At least you lot are giving me a chance. I'm not allowed near the football team. Besides, I'm feeling reckless."

That piece of his heart better learn how to stop talking.

"Broski, you're totally awesome!"

Gilbert jumped onto Arthur, sending them both crashing to the floor. As Gil screamed and ranted into his ear, he looked up at Francis challengingly.

"You don't have to do anything mon ami."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Dudes, Franny doesn't want to kiss Arthur! It's like the frickin apocalypse!"

"Shut up Gil."

"People!" Once again, Elizaveta commanded all eyes on her. "Can we start please? Gil, get off of Arthur. Does anyone remember or have the vows saved on their phone?"

"I have them dearest."

"Woohoo! Nice going Big Daddy!"

"...Never refer to me like that again."

The girl arranged her shorts and pulled up her knee socks before putting up her hoodie for a dramatic effect. To complete her act, in a low voice, she ordered,

"Come forth Arthur Kirkland of Great Brittania."

He masked an amused smirk with a couth look as he stepped forward. The others, aside from Francis and Roderich, sat on the ground in a line. Each watched the proceedings with great interest.

"Doth thou truly wish to become a member of our fine infamous group?"

"Yes."

"Are there any interrogations before the ceremony begins?"

"Why a kiss?" Elizaveta gave him a wry grin.

"A kiss is supposed to represent an eternal bond. It doesn't necessarily pertain to romantic feelings. It's more of a way to show trust and comfort with a person by Sophomore Slump definition. Gilbert kisses us all the time. He usually doesn't mean anything romantic by it."

"It's a wonder he doesn't get mono." Romano muttered.

"Anymore questions?"

"No mam."

"Then these vows you shall recite, pray that God shall answer your plight."

That being said, she and Roderich switched places. The Austrian offered a shaky smile, before picking up where she left off.

"Your response is: I do. If you disagree with any vow, the response is: I do not. Disagreeing with any vow will result in banishment. There shall be no talking during the vow ceremony."

Roddy shot Gil and Romano a look. 'Sorry Dad.' they mouthed. His nostrils flared before he turned back to Arthur.

"Once interrogated, do you vow to reply to the Sophomore Slumps with only the truth?"

"I do."

"Do you vow to live out these promises for all eternity?"

"I do."

"Do you vow to remain loyal and respectful to each member regardless of personal issues?"

"I do." Arthur said firmly when glances were cast between him and Francis.

"Do you vow to settle any arguments with a fellow member as soon as possible, if not the same day, and carry no grudges?"

"I do."

"Bullshit," Antonio coughed into his hand. Elizaveta threw a stone.

"Do you vow to shelter, clothe and feed a fellow member should the situation arise?"

That was a strange one. Suddenly, all eyes bore into Arthur's figure. Even Francis, who was reverently staring at the ground, glanced up.

"Of course. I mean, I do." He said, bewildered.

"I kind of want to have a sleepover at Artie's house."

"Yeah broski! Then we'll have a lion guarding us while we sleep!"

"Or eating us."

"Beilschmidt and Vargas, I am not afraid to remove you from the premises."

"No way bastard! I want to see Skinny Bitch kiss Ponytail-Boy!"

"Then be quiet!" After looking apologetic, Roderich continued.

"Do you vow to laugh, cry and speak freely in front of all members?"

"I do."

"Do you vow to comfort any member in need, without exception?"

"I do," the teen replied hastily, before they all stared at him and Francis again.

"Lastly, do you vow to remain like family to each member, no matter the circumstances?"

"I do." The pianist looked to the group as a whole.

"Are there any statements or objections pertaining to Arthur Kirkland's entrance into the Sophomore Slumps?"

A heady albino opened his mouth.

"Gil if one dumbass remark leaves your jaws, I will cut out your tongue."

"Mein Gott Roddy! I just wanted to know if we could show him to HQ today." The Austrian sighed.

"We'll discuss that later. Anything else?"

No one said a word.

"Very well then. Arthur Kirkland, to prove your worth you may kiss the founder."

Roderich switched places with Francis abruptly. When he looked into his old enemy's face, he expected to find self-satisfaction, a mocking sneer, or a sense of perverse triumph. What he found instead was a startling coolness and sophistication. An essence of professionalism even.

"It takes courage and strength to swallow your pride. For this, I commend you."

"If Matthew can kiss his own cousin, then I should not have a problem." Francis graced him with an impressed grin. The Brit was about to make another comment but his lips were caught too quickly for that. Surprisingly, the other didn't try anything like biting or tongue. He remained immobile, stiff even. Arthur wouldn't have known he was there if it weren't for the pulsing warmth.

"You two have to hold that for 20 seconds for it to count."

He heard snapping and was almost sure Elizaveta was taking photos. He was glad he had his eyes closed. He didn't want to be known as the freak that kept his eyes open while kissing. But this relief was short-lived, because someone came stomping through the hedges just as 18 seconds passed.

"Haha! Sup dudes? Feli told me that Arthur wo-! Whoa!"

Arthur ripped away from Francis to find Alfred F. Jones standing in his baggy jeans, favorite American Eagle hoodie, and black Nikes. With a fondness, he looked over the black and red plaid boxers peeking out from his waistline (a habit the Brit often criticized him for) and mussed blonde hair. But it was the wide saucers of blue staring back at him that really got to him. Al's eyes had always been the one feature to betray his emotions, and there was a considerable amount of hurt swirling in those sky blues.

"Al, I-."

"Was I interrupting something? I was interrupting something. Sorry, just came to say hi. Later Kirkland."

Kirkland? Al never called him Kirkland. No matter how many times he pretended to hate them, the athlete always called him by a nickname of some sort.

"Wait, Alfred! Alfred!" He was ready to jump after the boy, but he was restrained.

"Trust me. You need to give him time. Let him go for now."

"How would you know?" Arthur barked at Elizaveta.

"You're not the first case we've worked with. Every time someone runs off like this and their lover chases them, an even bigger fight erupts that destroys their relationship completely. L'amour is a complicated thing." Dark blues shifted to Arthur. "Watch that temper. It could kill people."

Immediately, he felt remorse. The girl was only trying to help. Shoulders sagging, he leaned into Elizaveta's tight embrace.

"I'm sorry."

"Ez rendben. It's okay. Calm down. Give him an hour or two to do the same."

"We can't let you chase him yet. My plot has to thicken first. At one point, he'll have to decide between you and Tino." Francis grinned almost savagely. "This is simply prep."

Gilbert jumped up.

"Oi! Let's kill this unawesome mood! Arthur just became a Sophomore Slump! I say we party at HQ!"

Romano raised his hand.

"I agree. SB needs a distraction."

"I'm in if Romano's in!"

"I suppose I was going to Gil's house anyway, eh. I never want to deal with Alfred when he's in a bad mood."

"Then it is settled. We shall hold festivities at Sophomore Slump Headquarters to celebrate Arthur's initiation!"

"And it will be way better than the party my parents' are throwing!"

Arthur nodded along to each statement, but his eyes kept drifting to where Alfred had disappeared. Sighing, he loosened his hold on Elizaveta.

Oh how he hoped he was making the right choices.

-S.S.C.O.T.Y-

And after losing my laptop, falling ill, and suffering from summer laziness. I finally have most of this fic figured out and this chapter finished! Punk! Arthur is basically in full force after this and we have a lot of USUK scenes to pick up. Please excuse the FrUK. I kind of wanted to show that Francis was more of a gentlemanly lover rather than a serial rapist. (Who knew?) Which is kind of necessary for him to be good friends with Arthur. But, alas, next chapter will *spoiler alert* focus on Alfie for the first part. Please bear with the incoming onslaught of angst and fights.

Comments on this chapter:

It was shorter than most. I apologize. I wanted to get material out badly.

And as for Matthew, my head canon states that every cold country has some sort of anger issue. Russia is...Russia. England's raining issue results in him being a total tsundere. Norway and Iceland abuse Denmark. It all makes sense. Mattie's rage is kind of complicated though. I think he just does a complete 180 and turns into a gangster when he's pissed off. *shrugs* Head canon is a strange thing.

Lastly, 14 reviews for the last chapter! Thanks for the support guys! I'll do my best to deliver a good fic. Critiques, no matter how cold, always help. Until next week my lovely readers!