|Bad Friends, Good Times
Author: KSFWolfe PM
Bad Friends Trio! A collection of oneshots featuring the most AWESOME characters in Hetalia...I PLEAD THE FIFTH. THIS IS PURE, UNDILUTED CRAAAACKRated: Fiction T - English - Humor/Friendship - Chapters: 4 - Words: 5,294 - Reviews: 23 - Favs: 32 - Follows: 24 - Updated: 04-01-10 - Published: 02-05-10 - id: 5720888
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Alright. Heeeeeere we go.
I just had, had, HAD to write some Bad Friends stuff...It was, you must understand, necessary to my survival. (The previous fact is true.)
So, this is going to be a compilation of a bunch of ficlets featuring (who else?) France, Prussia, and Spain!!! In most of my fics (this one included) country names are mostly used; human names are reserved for close friends, lovers, or when one country just wants another to shut up and listen. In this first oneshot, our three heroes will use both country and human names; it's a mix because, let's face it, in the story you're about to read, all of them are just really, really drunk. XD
So without further ado.......we come to.......
THE DISCLAIMER. HETALIA DOES NOT BELONG TO ME; IT BELONGS TO HIDEKAZ HIMARUYA!!!
HAH. TRICKED YOU. BET YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE GONNA GET THE STORY, EH? :D
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------the following text really is the story. sorry for the delay.
It was dusk. The sun streaked the sun with oranges, purple, and bronze. The highway seemed wrapped in a cocoon of gold, the trees; tall dark spires reaching up in hopes of touching the flaming sky.
"…HOLD ONTO THAT FEELING! STREETLIGHTS! PEOP-UH-ULLL!" the little red convertible broke through the peace like a bullet. A loud, drunken, Journey-howling bullet.
"DON'T STOP! BELIEEEEEVIN'!" the car shot along the empty freeway at least thirty km per hour faster than was legal. It was, contrary to popular belief, not the Autobahn.
The blonde haired man lounging across the back seat flung his arms out, singing loudly and discordantly, his normally melodious voice off key and hoarse from the wine that had once filled the now empty bottles rolling around on the car floor.
The brunette driving was also singing, thought fortunately his hands remained firmly on the steering wheel.
The car's third occupant, a rather scrawny looking albino, was hollering in his scratchy voice between gulps from a bottle of beer. It was not a voice that should ever have been allowed to sing, not even Journey, which can be sung by anyone. Even three drunken young men.
The blonde in the back reached lazily around the back of his head and tugged at the blue ribbon that had held his long hair in a loose ponytail. As it came undone, the slipstream whipped it out of his fingers; he snatched at it, but it was gone, lost to the highway flying by. The man hung over the back of the car and made a 'tch' sound with his tongue.
"What now, France?" drawled the albino riding shotgun.
"M' ribbon's gone, Prusse," France snapped, trying to be annoyed, but the mellowing effect of the wine defeated him.
"Ah ha…I'll get it back fo' you, yeah…" he stood shakily, and clambered over the back of the seat, flipping over completely as the driver swerved, perhaps to avoid a pothole, but perhaps the whiskey he had consumed was taking its toll on his driving skills.
"I know 'Am sexy, Gilbert, but you don't need to so obviously desperate…" France smirked at the Prussian who had collapsed on his stomach.
"You sick bastard! Like the awesome me would ever be desperate!" scoffed Prussia.
"What's going on back there?" yelled the driver over the music, craning his neck to see in the rearview mirror.
"Never you mind, Spain! Just drive the car without- Whoa!" Spain's hand slipped, and the convertible swerved violently into the adjoining lane.
"Oops! Sorry!" Spain giggled, and hiccupped.
"If you really want to know, Espanga, I'm making sweet, sweet love to our little Prussia back here," sang France, taking sadistic delight in the look of outrage that crossed Prussia's face, even as he was lying on top of the Frenchman.
"Ah…I see…" slurred Spain, happily.
"Pft! Shut up, you wino!" Prussia slapped at France's laughing face, rolling off of him onto the floor. He landed uncomfortably on the wine bottles. "Dun listen to a word 'e says, Antonio…he's a fru…fu- frukin liar…" the albino struggled to get up, failed, and fell back.
"You need help, Prussia?"
"No!" Prussia clambered onto the seat. He paused, frowned, and thought. "Why did I come back here again?"
France opened his mouth, then closed it again. He shrugged. "I really have no idea."
Then all three men burst out laughing.
The car sped onward, going where no man had ever gone before…or something like that.
Alright, so that was kinda lame. But hopefully the next one will be better.....