Not in ownership of Hetalia. My apologies. Believe me, if I did, the Nordics would appear a lot more often and wear a lot less clothes. And England would always be dressed as his true punk self.

After a week at his new school, Lukas knew more about his fellow students in Denmark than he had in Norway in three years. He knew everyone's name; all relationships; every student's status in the social hierarchy of education; who was crushing on whom; who was rich and who was poor; who could speak four different languages fluently, as opposed to the usual Danish, English and perhaps another (Lukas let out a dignified snort at this; his classmates weren't yet aware of the fact that he could speak six); who was in a band (another snort. The reason for this will become known to us shortly)... General facts that he had had no reason to learn in his old school. Thanks to Matthias, he was now aware of all sorts of things that he had no interest in; he was, however, intrigued as how the Dane could keep up with his social life and his schoolwork. Then again, he wasn't sure that Matthias was keeping up with his schoolwork. Not judging by the mark Lukas got a glimpse of when the Dane managed to drop his work on the floor one lunch break, anyway.

Not that he cared about what the idiot got.

No, he just pitied him.

He didn't feel like he should offer Matthias some help.

And he really wasn't starting to care for the idiot.

Not at all.

God, no.

.:.

Matthias himself, in contrast to the Norwegian's thoughts, was rather proud of the C that he got in his History class. After all, it was a great improvement over the F he got last term, wasn't it? Forever optimistic. Unlike a certain (gorgeous, stunning, adorable- hang on, where did those come from? Man up, Matthias) platinum blonde he knew, whose eyes widened when he saw the grade on his paper as it fluttered to the ground. He supposed that his grade was kind of crappy compared to Lukas' A*, but that was just the Norwegian being the smart arse Matthias knew that he was. (And Lukas wasn't even in the lesson they had learnt everything in. He could have sworn he said that he only took PE, Music, Physics and Maths back in Norway... What was Lukas? Surely it wasn't natural to be that smart?)

Still, he was gradually working his way past the icy skier's frosty demeanour. Slowly, determinedly, he was learning more and more about Lukas' life- sure, at the moment he didn't have much, but Lukas had to stay for a year at the least, right? Right. So he could gradually find out more about the gorgeous blonde, and make him fall in love with him. Wait, what? No. Just no. He did not just think that. Lukas probably wasn't even gay. Could always turn him gay.

Truly disturbed by the thoughts that were polluting his mind (they weren't his. God, no. Of course not. Why would they be? They were probably Francis' or Gilbert's. Not his. He wasn't falling in love with the new student. He had only know him for a week, after all. He was no Francis. He didn't rush into things like that. Sure, Lukas was cute, but a week was too short a time to develop a crush, let alone fall in love with someone, right? Right. Because all that 'love at first sight' stuff was just a load of shit. Totally. He was not falling in love), he slammed his head onto the desk in an attempt to clear his head. Needless to say, it didn't work.

"Matthias, what the hell do you think you are you doing?" Lukas whispered to him icily.

"I'm trying to clear my head," Matthias whispered back.

"It'll take more than slamming it on the desk to make something like that happen," Lukas said frostily.

"Perhaps you could do it for me?" Matthias asked seductively, smirking as a dark blush made its way onto Lukas' face. A moment later, he let out a quiet cry as a powerful kick bruised his shin. The platinum blonde sitting one space away from him gave a satisfied nod and focused again on his phone (yes, they were in class, and yes, he should have been listening, but he learnt this rubbish years ago. His phone was much more interesting, for on it he had his ex-classmate's number and was currently texting Arthur about his old school and wallowing in self-pity at the absence of snow, skis and his small group of friends), his cheeks still stained a rose pink.

Matthias almost squealed at how adorable his frosty classmate looked with that now receding blush, his long, pale eyelashes shining as the winter sun beamed through the window and illuminated them. His hair was also caught by the light, making the Norwegian look almost angelic. The stray curl by his neck that was such a pale blonde that it looked like it was floating just brushed the collar of his soft cotton shirt and the steel hair clip keeping the hair out of his ice-blue eyes shone silver in contrast to the pale gold locks it held in place. His casual shirt and jeans somehow added to the ethereal look, and the worn Converse on his feet (grey again- Matthias wondered if he deliberately did it to match his hair slide (something he seemed to wear almost obsessively, which made Matthias wonder if there was some sort of emotional attachment to it), or if he was simply his favourite colour. He suspected the latter- Lukas didn't seem the kind of person to spend ages picking out one outfit to match perfectly, unlike a certain Polish student he knew) emphasised the jeans that, in turn, accentuated his slim (yet still muscular, somehow, and powerful when it came to delivering a sharp kick) legs.

In short, the Norwegian seriously knew how to dress.

Matthias looked again at Lukas' shirt, noticing that the sleeves were rolled up casually (and also that he had some nice muscle for someone so slim) and also that there appeared to be a t-shirt underneath it. A black t-shirt, with some sort of logo and Norwegian and English writing on it... A band, perhaps? The English said something like... Insignificantly Important? (That makes no sense... Matthias thought, confused.) Something like that. It was hard to read with the shirt over it, and he didn't want to look like he was staring at Lukas. Thinking about it, Lukas did look like someone who would be into rock music, and by the appearance of the logo, Insignificantly Important (whoever they were) were a punk band. Matthias wondered vaguely if they were any good, before realising that he had been staring at Lukas for around five minutes, and was not only behind on his work but probably looking very strange. Who just stares at their classmate's chest? Him, apparently.

Someone who has a crush on said classmate, perhaps?

Matthias slammed his head against the desk once again, Lukas giving him another exasperated look.

.:.

Lukas was thinking fast and deeply, tilting his head slightly to see the Dane staring at him.

Why did Matthias keep staring at him? What was he looking at? Lukas discreetly followed Matthias' gaze to his shirt. My shirt? What's so special about that? Oh, wait, my t-shirt... He's probably wondering who Insignificantly Important are...

Lukas couldn't honestly blame him. Damn Arthur for picking such a weird name. Confused? One might hope so. Or perhaps not. Moving onwards. You see, when he mentally described Arthur as someone who wasn't particularly 'wild', Lukas left out the fact that Arthur was a punk. Band shirts and skinny jeans all the way. And Lukas himself lived in a uniform of dark grey skinny jeans, a stylishly crumpled white shirt and skinny grey tie loosened considerably and worn to look casual and ever so slightly edgy, yet not disrespectful. (This was, of course, when he wasn't wearing his ski gear.) And when he implied that they weren't close friends, he wasn't lying, but he wasn't giving the whole truth. And it was inaccurate to give the idea that skiing was his only hobby. Can you see where I'm going with this? That's right. They weren't just friends, they were bandmates. They took Music together; Arthur was a brilliant bass guitarist and singer and Lukas could manipulate his violin and guitar like a certain Frenchman could a young, innocent virgin. Along with a certain American drummer/PE teacher and a Romanian student that shared Lukas and Arthur's interest in mythology and was a talented bassist, giving Arthur an opportunity to focus primarily on the vocal part, they made a very skilled punk band.

They could have been very popular, had they not all had other commitments. (Lukas and his skiing, of course, Arthur was an avid writer, Mr Jones, obviously, had a full time job with a passion for sport on the side, and Vladimir... Vlad was just Vlad.) Of course, that was all past tense, as they could not possibly rehearse whilst Lukas was in a different country... He cursed his father yet again...

As the Dane's head made contact with his desk again, Lukas looked up properly and sharply this time. Exasperated with the idiot, he kicked Matthias hard in the leg, whispering at him sharply.

"Stop it, you idiot! You're distracting others!"

In truth, no-one was actually paying attention. The class was small, around nine students, and the majority of those knew the topic off by heart. Those who didn't couldn't care less, and neither could their teacher.

"No-one's paying attention, Luke. Keep your hair on."

"My name is Lukas, idiot! Not Luke, Lukas!" The Norwegian fumed.

"Sorry, Luke," The annoying blonde smirked. Lukas gave him another kick, harder this time, still only using around half his strength. He could easily break the Dane's leg if he so wished, and most likely would do so if Matthias didn't shut up soon.

"Control that temper, Lukas. Anger doesn't suit you."

Lukas narrowed his eyes, practically seething with said anger. "If you stopped annoying me, I would perhaps stop being angry at you."

"It's not my fault that you're so beautiful."

Lukas looked at him incredulously, blush darkening once again. Giving him yet another lethal kick, harder still, he turned away to reply to Arthur's latest text.

.:.

"It's not my fault that you're so beautiful."

Shit. Did I seriously just say that?

Lukas gave him an incredulous look, that adorable blush darkening. Just as Matthias thought that he might get away with it, the Norwegian kicked him even harder than usual. (How was that even possible? Sure, Lukas had to be pretty strong for his career in sports, but seriously! Any harder and he could break his leg!) Groaning slightly in pain, the Dane watched as Lukas turned back to his phone.

He would have to research 'Insignificantly Important'. Perhaps then he would have a way of getting his crush (wait, what? Who said I was crushing on him? Then again... I did just call him beautiful... To his face...) to notice him.

It was worth a try, at least. Right?

Right.

A/N

I'm giving you two chapters because I'm in Mallorca next week. Sun, sand and sea. In other words, sunburn, bits of grit in my ice cream and a constant fear of jellyfish. Oh, joy. Fun fact: I have an 'albino' patch of skin on my back. Technically, it's not really albino, just lacking in pigment. But whatever.

Half term hath cometh! The weeks have flown by...

So, I made Arthur a part of this story... I'm sorry, I had to. Come on, I'm English and obsessed with almost anything punk.

This author's note is shorter than the last, thank goodness. See you in a fortnight amigos- I'm off tomorrow! To Antonio's house! XD Mmmm, paella~

Review, please! Reviews= maple syrup, and I live on maple~