I was fully all "oh let me finish Correspondence and Vodka + Roses before starting anything new" then candy4yourEYEZ sent me this plot bunny of hers.
Because spontaneity and putting off things is key within my life, I decided to just go ahead and write this.
Well guys, another first for me. I don't write stories set in highschool, or that revolve around high school. I have to heavily edit this story, because since it's a highschool setting and I'm a highschooler, my voice sorta seeps in sometimes, and well...it's not too appropriate :P
LET'S GET THIS AU GOING yeah
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia (hence why I'm posting on fanfiction) and the general idea/title belongs to candy4yourEYEZ. All the stupidity in between belongs to me.
Warnings: It's a story about highschool boys. Also, derogatory slurs.
Relationship Status: It's Complicated
Sixteen (going on to seventeen) year old Matthew Williams is an ordinary boy living an ordinary life.
Today, like every other day in said ordinary life.
At exactly 6:30 am, his alarm rings, jolting him out of a usually mundane sleep. Extremely irritated at the fact that he has to yet again go suffer at school, Matthew throws his alarm across the room, and flops his head back onto the pillows as he hears the satisfying thud of the alarm against the wall.
Ten minutes later, Matthew remembers that his alarm is no longer that crappy old excuse for a gift someone had gotten him for his seventh birthday, but instead, is his brand new touch screen phone that he spent four months saving up for. Swearing under his breath, Matthew shoots out of bed to retrieve said phone, hoping that it's not damaged. It's not, except for a small chip on the screen that seems infinitely bigger in Matthew's eyes, which are sleep-deprived from texting all night on said phone.
Now that he is awake, Matthew decides to head down for breakfast, and hopes that he doesn't run into his mother's flavour of the week, a big burly man who goes by the name Rupert. Last time he ran into Rupert, it was last night while the guy had his mother bent over the kitchen counter. While it was not the first time he had walked in on her, Matthew still was uncomfortable looking a man with a very graphic Tweety Bird tattoo on the ass in the eye.
Thankfully, Rupert is not in the kitchen. Unfortunately, the remains of the night before are. Matthew decides that it is better to starve than go ten feet within the used condom on the floor, and turns on his heel to trudge back upstairs, pretending that the messy birth control was not bright pink.
By the time Matthew is upstairs, he has received around eight text messages from his friend, Alfred Jones, asking him where the hell he is. Wondering why the hell Alfred would be waiting for him so early in the morning, Matthew proceeds to smell various clothes that he has rescued from his laundry basket, throwing on the ones that do not smell like weed or stale pancakes.
It is then he realises that he has not changed the time on his phone, and it is actually around 8:00 am, twenty minutes past the time he is supposed to meet up with Alfred outside his house and ten minutes before school starts. Alfred, who had heard about the Rupert story last night, is too scared to come and ring the doorbell, and too lazy to make the phone call, is bitching via text messages to Matthew for getting late.
Cursing the daylight saving time, Matthew grabs his backpack and his rain coat and dashes down the stairs. This time, he does run into a hairy, half naked Rupert, which serves to only quicken the speed at which he hurls out the door.
As he makes it out onto his front lawn, he trips over a huddled mass lying on the dewy grass.
"It's about time!" Alfred whines. "I had to eat my lunch while waiting! You owe me a burger at lunch."
Matthew rolls his eyes and drags Alfred off the grass and they run to school. Despite all his effort to keep up with his inhumanely fast best friend, Matthew receives a bitch-slap from Alfred for the detention they get from their anal-retentive teacher upon arriving late to first period English.
They spend lunch together, because aside from the fact that they do it every day, Alfred has forgotten both a lunch and his lunch money, therefore needing someone to mooch from.
"If you spend more than thirty bucks this time," Matthew warns during lunch, as he hands Alfred his debit card. "I will make you throw up whatever you eat, then make you eat it again."
Alfred simply grins, and takes this as a challenge. Matthew eyes him wearily, before stalking off to the washroom of the McDonald's that they spend every single lunch, since Alfred wants to die of a heart-attack before 30.
When Matthew comes back, Alfred is sitting in a booth with approximately ten burgers, and a happy meal on the side. Matthew begins to plan revenge upon Alfred as he looks at the bill the blond happily presents.
It is a normal day.
Then it is third period, and Matthew is yet again, late to class.
He knocks on the door, hoping that this time, Mr. Romeo Vargas will take pity on him and not make him do fifty push-ups for coming ten minutes past the bell. Though Matthew is a complete hockey monster who is completely capable of doing fifty push-ups, Alfred forced him to eat three burgers during lunch, and Matthew is sure he will puke all over the floor.
However, he is not alone. Ten seconds after he knocks, another student collides into him, with an "Oh fuck, am I late?" and a string of colourful swear words. It is Gilbert Beilschmidt, one of the 'popular' students of the school, who sit at the back with the other two cool kids of the class throwing spit balls. Which usually land in Matthew's hair, since he is one of the keeners that sit at the front of the class. They are usually followed by a completely insincere apology, but Matthew doesn't mind because the fact that his crush of the past few months bothers to talk to him is enough.
Mr. Vargas opens the door, and gives Gilbert a look that shows that he is definitely not impressed. Contrary to popular belief, Mr. Vargas rather values punctuality. Except for meetings with the staff, where he barely comes on time, just to irritate the school principal.
Matthew, grateful for once that he is semi-invisible in the school population, sneaks by and settles into his seat, which is at the front and centre of the class.
Hey, World History is his favourite subject.
"Williams!" Mr. Vargas barks. "Don't think I didn't see you!"
Matthew groans inwardly. Of course, the only times when he isn't invisible to most of the school population is when it serves for his best inconvenience.
"I'm sorry sir." He mumbles. "Won't happen again, promise."
Having heard this excuse a million times already (after all, he teaches in a high school, where bullshit is the only thing more prevalent than hormones), Mr. Vargas orders Matthew to get down on the floor and give him twenty-five. He is being merciful towards Matthew, mostly because he sees the slight green that tinges the teen's face and assumes that he has spent yet another lunch with Alfred Jones, the human vacuum. Gilbert, on the other hand, gets a detention, where he will have to spend an hour after school, listening to Mr. Vargas rant about the fall of Rome.
While Matthew struggles not to throw up all over the floor, Mr. Vargas continues talking about the assignment.
"As I was saying before we were rudely interrupted, this project will be on going. You and the partner you have chosen will have till mid June to complete all the components listed on the handout. Yes Beilschmidt?"
"I don't have a partner."
Indeed, Francis Bonnefoy and Antonio Carriedo have partnered up, leaving Gilbert behind. And any chance of Gilbert getting them any good German beer from his dad's cabinet for the upcoming party.
"I'm aware, Beilschmidt." Mr. Vargas says, as if Gilbert has stated the most obvious thing in the world. Which he has. "Neither does Williams, so you two are going to partner up."
No one notices as Matthew slightly sputters and face plants into the ground, because Gilbert whines,
"But how come we don't get to choose?"
"Beilschmidt. Look around. See all these people partnered up?"
"None of them waited for you. Or even offered to partner up with you even though you were absent."
Gilbert leans back and sulks, while Matthew slides back into his seat, trying to prevent his mind from running too fast.
Mr. Vargas continues to talk about the project, for which they will get a period every two weeks to work on in class. The rest must be done outside of school, in places such as the library or either partner's house, and Matthew finds his face slightly heating up at the thought of having Gilbert Beilschmidtover at his house or vice versa. After that, the rest is a blur because Matthew is still occupied with thoughts that are slowly turning less innocent.
He only notices that Mr. Vargas has finished speaking when a pale hand waves in front of his face, followed by a "Hellooo?"
Snapping back to reality, Matthew realises that the subjects of his daydreams has materialized in front of him, sitting on a chair across his desk.
"Oh s-sorry." Matthew says lamely, and Gilbert continues to stare at him with an ever-bored expression.
"Whatever. Okay, so I already signed us up for a country with Vargas."
"Which one?" Matthew asks, though he's pretty sure he knows. Gilbert has been known to boast about being German. Specifically, Prussian. Why anyone would claim to be from a dissolved state is beyond Matthew, but Gilbert is known to be slightly weird at times.
"See that kid over there? Gupta?" Gilbert jabs a finger in the direction of a quiet Egyptian boy, who is busy talking to the Turkish boy who always insists on wearing huge sunglasses with thick white frames. Matthew nods.
"I don't like him."
"Do you know Natalia Arlovskaya? Hot blonde chick, nice legs, nicer tits?"
Matthew, having no idea what that has to do with choosing countries, simply nods again.
"I was going to ask her to the semi. And you know what Gupta, that chick-stealing bastard does?"
"I can only guess."
"And I am way too awesome to be rejected by some chick for some weird-ass boy who doesn't speak."
Matthew himself cannot see either, why Natalia would choose Gupta over Gilbert. But then again, Matthew is slightly biased.
"Anyways, I know he likes Egypt a lot. Like, a lot. Like, masturbates-with-a-map lot."
This time Matthew is not sure what response is the most appropriate, so he does not do anything.
"So I signed us up to do Egypt for our project. When the kid finds out, he'll be crying out the fucking Nile."
Matthew is surprised, because he had thought that Gilbert would most likely choose Prussia. He knows from Francis that Gilbert knows a lot about European history, specifically Prussian. Suddenly Matthew finds himself thinking that Gupta is probably not the only one that masturbates with a map.
He does not bring up the fact that he would have actually very much liked to do Canadian history. No one else likes Canadian history anyways, because Canadian history has been shoved down their throats since the third grade and everyone is frankly sick of it.
Not Matthew though. Matthew loves Canada, and plans to get a huge maple leaf tattooed on his chest as soon as he comes of age. No matter how stupid Alfred says it is.
"I think we should meet up after school tomorrow or something, and figure out what we're going to do. The sooner we get this started, the sooner we get this done, and the less we suffer. Give me your number and your email."
Matthew blinks, slightly amused that this is the same guy who decides to skip class if he doesn't like the way the room smells. He rips out a sheet of paper, and jots down contact information. As he hands the piece of paper to Gilbert, Gilbert grabs his hand and writes his own number in big black letters with a sharpie that Matthew is sure will give him skin cancer.
The bell rings, and Gilbert and Matthew shove their books into their bags as Matthew tells Gilbert that maybe they should just figure out this whole thing tonight. The bell rings, and students start to file out of class.
"Alright, sounds good. Call me tonight, alright?"
Although those words have no hidden intent, Matthew can't help but smile a bit to himself, and walk to fourth period Math with a little skip in his step.
"No way!" Alfred exclaims loudly, ignoring the warning look from Mr. Braginski. "You got partnered with him?"
"Yes way." Matthew replies, also ignoring the look. "I did. And the project's till the end of the semester."
Alfred and Matthew are one of the few students who are not intimidated by the teacher with the somewhat thick Russian accent. They are also one of the few students that know Natalia Arlovskaya is actually Braginski's younger sister. But they are the only two students who have caught Natalia reading books on incest, and they have been holding it over Braginski's head ever since the beginning of the tenth grade. He has tried to keep them in check by placing their desks near his, but they figure it's more out fear that they might tell other people in the class.
"Whoa! That's like..." Alfred counts out the months from March to June on his fingers. "Three months! To seduce him! Dude!"
Alfred is lucky that the class is having a work period, which means everyone else is generally being noisy and loud. If that hadn't been the case, Matthew would have had to smack him in the nose with his textbook.
"I don't know..." He says, as he doodles in his notebook, quadratic functions not the most important thing on his mind right now. "Do you think I could pull it off?"
"Of course!" Alfred slams his hand on the table in that ever-enthusiastic way of his. "You've liked him for what...six, seven months now? This is like, an opportunity for sexual release, bro! Unh!"
Matthew rolls his eyes at the sound effects, too used to Alfred being the biggest weirdo he has ever met.
"Well, I'm sort of nervous...especially since he's friends with Francis. And he sort of knows what happened with us."
"Oh, psh." Alfred waves off Matthew's concerns. "That was one small incident no one cared about. Even Francis didn't care about it! He kept trying to hook up with you for a whole two months afterwards, remember?"
Indeed Matthew remembers, and to him, the incident is nothing but small. During April of last year, Francis Bonnefoy, school player extraordinaire, asked Matthew Williams out on a date.
Bonnefoy was the longest Matthew had held a relationship, if it could be called that since the French kid was always running around behind Matthew's back and Matthew sort of ran around behind his. Either way, it had been fun, until the incident.
The 'incident' took place in July, when Matthew and his mother had been called to the first family reunion in fifteen years. It was there that Matthew Williams found out that Francis Bonnefoy, the guy who he skipped class with to mess around, was actually somewhat related to him. As in, he was the son of one of the sisters that Matthew's mother didn't bother telling him that she had.
Matthew was completely horrified upon the revelation, while Gilbert, who had accompanied Francis to the reunion, had keeled over laughing. Francis, for his part, was completely unfazed by the situation, and had suggested they continue their relationship as if nothing had happened.
As much as Alfred insisted that Matthew would not go to hell for being gay ("Cuz aside from heroes, God loves faggots the most!" Alfred had happily chirped when Matthew had voiced that concern), Matthew was sure that he would go to hell for being both gay and incestuous.
Hey, he couldn't help that up until he was fourteen, his mom had forced him to go to church every weekend.
After that incident, Matthew had tried his best to ignore Francis, Gilbert, and for good measure, Antonio. It had worked well, until September had rolled around, and Gilbert was in his chemistry class. The two never talked or interacted in general, even though Gilbert would occasionally give him a knowing smirk.
"Jones, if you do not quiet down, I will have to place you in detention for being too disruptive." Braginski says quietly, even though the three of them fully know that the teacher will not carry through with the threat. Alfred continues to talk about the various pornos he has seen where two study buddies get it on, and how Matthew can use various techniques from them to seduce Gilbert.
Matthew just sits there, pretending to listen because Alfred has already told him all of this before. His friend is not that creative when it comes to such things, mostly because he doesn't have to try that hard. People are just naturally attracted to his enthusiastic blue eyes and his energetic personality.
Matthew was too, at one point, and he and Alfred had gotten a friends-with-benefits thing going on. When he had initially come out at the beginning of high school, Alfred was the most supportive, mostly because he was questioning his own sexuality too. They started an experimental friend with benefits type thing, to help them figure things out.
They had stopped eventually, when they deemed it to be too awkward to be fucking when they had more bro-like emotions towards each other. Also, Alfred had called out his own name a few times during their adventures. He had tried to cover it up by saying it was because Matthew looked very similar to him, but Matthew could not look at him without laughing for an entire week.
After that, Matthew's personal love life had consisted of flings and one week relationships with both boys and girls.
Then Matthew had the thing with Francis, but they were anything but faithful or committed. They were only in a relationship by name, really. Even if Francis hadn't secretly been Matthew's cousin, they would have still eventually drifted apart, seeing that when it came to things that did not involve the physical, they were not really suited for each other.
Alfred on the other hand, had managed to find a student, fresh from Japan, to pester. He has also now set his sights on a slightly intimidating punk that has a strong British accent, and spends many a night lamenting to Matthew about how he wishes he could just have them both.
After Francis, Matthew's love/sex life flat-lined, as he did not feel attraction towards anyone, part in fear that he would find out that the person he was hooking up with would end up being another long-lost relative.
Only when school started, did Matthew feel his hormones stirring again. It was in chemistry class that Matthew found himself becoming completely infatuated with Gilbert, who was German and albino, therefore not related whatsoever to Matthew. Gilbert was the wise-ass of the class, constantly giving their teacher (who was coincidentally also Braginski) a hard time and making fun of everyone. Somewhere along the way, Matthew had fallen for that obnoxious personality, that mischievous face, and that really nice ass.
He had told Alfred around a month into the infatuation, and his best friend had bugged him non-stop about trying to hook up with Gilbert. Easier said than done, because he hadn't really been sure if Gilbert swung that way. He didn't want to attempt his excuse for flirting on Gilbert, if he was straight.
Then, three months ago, Matthew heard from Alfred who heard from Arthur Kirkland who heard it unwillingly from Francis that Gilbert hooked up with some Austrian guy who spent most of his free time jacking off to music from both the likes of Mozart and Andrew Lloyd Weber. The affair lasted only two weeks, but the fact that Gilbert was bi-sexual raised the hopes of Matthew marginally.
It was then that Alfred and Matthew had really started to think on how Matthew, an average if slightly invisible student, would bag Gilbert Beilschmidt, one of the most popular guys in the school.
So far Matthew already has a plan.
Step One: Seduce Gilbert Beilschmidt
Step Two: Get Laid
He has not exactly figured out how he is going to carry out said plan, or what's going to happen in between, but that's what he has Alfred for.
"How about we give you a makeover?" Alfred suggests, tugging at a lock of Matthew's light blond hair. "Maybe we could get you some blue contacts, kinda like my eye colour. And maybe straighten your hair, like mine. Maybe we could add some colour-enhancer into it?"
Matthew raises an eyebrow.
"I want Gilbert to like me. Not an imitation of you."
"Well," Alfred says, as he gives a look of mock offence. "Excuse you. I was just trying to help."
"That's the problem." Matthew sighs, as he takes off his glasses to clean them. As he rubs them on his bright red CANADA sweater, he catches Alfred staring at him.
"That's it!" Alfred exclaims, grabbing Matthew's face in his hands and drawing it close to his own. "Your eyes!"
Mr. Braginski coughs, and Matthew is sure that the brunette who always keeps a flower in her hair is trying to subtly take a picture with her phone.
"You have the coolest eyes ever! They're like almost violet or some abnormal shit!" Alfred rambles, pulling Matthew's eyelids upwards. "All we need to do is get you contacts, since you can't see them that well behind glasses. And then you can beckon him with a seductive look."
Alfred turns to Mr. Braginski's desk rotating Matthew's head as well.
"Whaddaya say, Braginski? Do you think Matthew would look hot with contacts?"
Mr. Braginski narrows his eyes, but gives a polite smile.
"Alfred, I do not think that's a very appropriate question."
Alfred just gives his regular megawatt grin as he lets go of Matthew, and tightens his grip around his pen. The teacher calms himself with the fact that he is currently marking Alfred's test, and the teen is so far failing miserably on it.
"Matt, face it." Alfred continues, as Matthew rubs his cheeks. "You're not bad, but if we're trying to trying to seduce him, we need to step up your game. He's no Francis, so you're going to have work harder. Plus he's popular, which means you need to break down many social barriers."
Matthew presses his lips together, not appreciating the reminder that even though he had dated a popular person and his best friend is rather high up on the high school hierarchy, Matthew has yet to reach any such level.
But Matthew believes that he can do it. He does not know how, but in the next three months or so, Matthew Williams will manage to both entice and hook up with Gilbert Beilschmidt.
The fact that he has a fifty dollar going on with Alfred slightly adds to the motivation.
Romeo Vargas: Grandpa Rome
cookies for those who guess who the principal is
I haven't written in present tense for anything aside from satire, so this amuses me.
REVIEWS ARE REAALLY APPRECIATED ~