Hello, my pretties! I was planning on leacing this off until I had nothing better to do, but then thought that that wouldn't be very polite. so instead, I've decided to write! yaaaay!
Inner Kiwi: Translation- She's bored and attention starved.
Me: Shut up..
Anyway, I want to say thank you gys SO much for the reviews! I am already at 27 reviews, which is more than I've EVER had for ANYTHING! I'm so happy! And for that, I've decided to choose a random reviewer to gift with a oneshot. If you want a oneshot, just include a smiley face in the review so I know you're interested. Also, I recieved a review asking for longer updates. I'll try, but honestly, I'm more comfortable writing short chapters. If it annoys you guys, though, I'll write longer chapters. Be warned though, that mean longer waits.
Inner Kiwi: yeah, I'm SO sure that longer waits would bother them. Get on with the chapter, Tit-for-brains.
Finally, after scouring the entire for place for the better part of half an hour, the duo managed to find a game that would give them the required amount of tickets in one go. By this point, they were both pretty tired of the loud noises and flashing lights. They quickly approached the shooting game, and, using Matthew's marksmanship skills, they managed to acheive their goal of 1000 tickets, with extra to spare.
"Fucking perfect! I finally get to have my awesome prize!" Gil crowed, grabbing up the tickets. He quickly snatched up Matthew's wrist and dragged the boy towards the prize counter. The regal-looking teen manning the counter looked extremely unimpressed by Gilbert's childishness. Ignoring his expression, Gil slapped his tickets down on the counter.
"I want that prize, right there." Gil announced, pointing up at a gigantic stuffed yellow chick. Matthew rolled his eyes; he really should have guessed, what with the whacky boy's odd choice in vehicle and the nickname he had given him, that he had an obsession with birds.
"Really, Gilbert? THIS was the prize you wanted?" the aristocratic boy asked skeptically. Obviously the two knew each other.
"Of course, I couldn't resist! Look at how big and awesome it is! Only pure Awesome Incarnate should be allowed to own it," He defended himself, not a hint of shame in him.
"Then it stands to reason that I should be giving it to Neil Patrick Harris." The teen shot back. Gil spluttered for a moment, then glared
"Quit being an arschloch and give me my damn prize, Roddy," Gil grouched, glaring at the boy who Matthew assumed was named Roderich.
"Whatever, moron," Roderich said in a bored tone, reaching up and pulling the giant chick down from the self. Gil snatched it out of his arms and cuddled it to his chest. Roderich fed their tickets into the ticket counter, then raised an eyebrow. "You still have 500 more tickets. pick out something else."
Gilbert's eyes scanned the shelves until they alighted on something else. he pointed at the object and Roderich retrieved it off the shelf. Gil took it from him and immediately presented it to Matthew who's eyebrows crumpled in confusion. On further inspection, he found the object to be a mid sized polar bear plushie.
"Like it?" Gil asked, waggling it in his hands. Matthew hesitantly reached out and took it.
"I love it, thanks Gil," Matthew answered quietly, a grateful smile playing on his lips. Gil smiled back, and the pair left the arcade together.
niether noticed the speculating look on Roderich's face, a look that would end up causing so much happiness and pain in their very near future.
After the beating he had earned, Matthew knew btter than to have Gilbert drop him off at his house, so he had him stop a block from the apartment complex.
"Thanks for this, Gilbert. It meant a lot to me," Matthew said softly as the car came to a stop. He fiddled with the stuffie's (who he'd named Kumadurarara, or something like that), avoiding the albino's eyes. He didn't want the other to see just how grateful he was. Gilbert gave him a bright grin
"No probs Birdie, anything for a friend," He paused and reached into his pocket, pulling out a slip of paper. "Here, this is my number; call me any time, okay?"
"uh, s-sure," Matthew stammered, taking the offered slip of paper. as he went to pull away, Gil gently took his wrist.
"Really Mattie, you need ANYTHING, and I'll be here in under five minutes, or if not me, someone I trust, got it?" Gil's eyes burned with an intensity that told Matthew that he wasn't as oblivious as he'd like him to be.
"Thank you, Gil, of course I'll call you," Matthew was surprised by the honesty in his voice. Gilbert's eyes lit up in a smile. The Canadian boy watched as he exited the car and rounded to his side, opening the door for him.
"See ya later, Birdie!" He said. Matthew slid out of the care and gave him one last smile before walking of to his house.
As soon as Matthew walked into the apartment he shared with his brother and his boy... Ivan, he knew that the Russian wasn't home. For one, there was a distinct lack of empty vodka bottles, and for another, there were no sounds of an arguement coming from the living room. Honestly, Matthew had no sweet clue why his twin lived with him; he said it was to protect him from "the Commie Bastard", but that couldn't be true. He was constantly provoking Ivan into fights and then storming off, leaving Matthew to deal with his anger.
Not that Alfred knew what Ivan did to his brother. As far as he knew Ivan was extremely sweet and doting, the perfect boyfriend. Ha, perfect my ass, Matthew thought bitterly. If only he knew what happens when he turns on his XBox at night...
As he thought this, he heard the object of his thoughts coming down the hall. speak of the devil, indeed.
"Hey bo, where've been? I thought you got off work an hour ago?" Clear worry shone in Aldred's eyes, and Matthew felt momentarily guilty for putting it there. Shaking it of, he shrugged minisculely.
"Sorry, I saw an friend and got caught up talking with him," Internally, Matthew reasoned that this was at least partially true; no need to mention that most of the talking had taken place at an arcade.
"Oh. kay then. By the way, the Commie called and said to tell you that he was going to Yao's party, and that he was staying the night," His brother informed him, drifting off down the hall.
Some part of Matthew aknowledged that as Ivan's boyfriend, it should bother him that he'd gone to a party without him, but truthfully, the rest of him was just glad that he didn't have to deal with him for almost another twenty-four hours. And besides, Matthew knew full well that Ivan was more than likely cheating on him, no doubt with Yao himself, he just didn't care. As long as it kept the Russian from pestering him to swipe his v-card, he didn't mind.
Filing these thoughts away as unimportant, Matthew put together a supper of blueberry pancakes, eating them up before the went and got a sower. after his shower, he put his pajamas on and crawled into bed, knowing he'd have to get up early for work the next morning.
As he lay snuggled under his blankets, Matthew thought about the Albino boy, cuddling Kumajinxie to his chest. For the first time in over a year, Matthew drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face.
Uhhh... I'M SO SORRY! I know I said it would be longer, but there was so much I had planned, and if I hadn't ended it here, it would have rambled on for days!
Inner Kiwi: Plus, at this point, she's forcing herself to stay focused and not run after all the proverbial internet shiney's.
Me: True enough. Anyway, Roderich showing up was completely unexpected. It wassupposed to be some random sulky teenager, but then I found a way to work him into a major plot point.. thing. And I was thinking of putting RusAme in this but then figured that that would make everyone hate Alfred, and I truthfully LOVE Alfred. He's my favorite, besides Gilbert.
Inner Kiwi: Okay, enough of that idiots ramblings! As most of you have probably noticed, the dumbass is posting some pretty shi- er, subpar working. To save you all from her unspellchecked, un-proofread drivel, would any of you like to beta this story? Just for spell check and proofreading or to tell her that se sucks and should go back to writing dorky self inserts in her notebooks.
Me: Oh, screw you! It's NOT my fault WordPad doesn't have spellcheck, you heartless cow!
Inner Kiwi: Insulting me is insulting yourself, dearest.
...Whatever. Until we meet again, my little maple leafs! R&R, si vous plait!