Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, or the Thriving Ivory song Some Kind of Home
Some Kind of Home
As Hassan lay awake on the couch of the common room, the only thing there to accompany him was the sound of the grandfather clock ticking with every passing second. To him this was no surprise; at 2 a.m. on a school night, at least seventy-four percent the student body of the International Academy of World Studies was sleeping. Of the remaining twenty-six percent, Hassan decided, twenty-one would be up writing papers and cramming for exams, and the last five would be watching porn on their laptops with headphones tight in their ears, trying not to make enough noise to wake their roommate as they jerked off.
Or, perhaps they just couldn't sleep, like him.
As the second hand continued to journey around the clock face time and time again, Hassan's gaze was focused on his ceiling, and his mind was lost in thought. Lately strange things had been happening in his life, and he was not accustomed to being the one to which things happened.
The sound of the creaking step on the staircase up to the dorms jolted him from his reverie, and when though he sat up quickly in alert, Hassan relaxed back onto the arm rest of the couch.
Sadiq barreled down the stairs tiredly, and it wasn't until he plopped into the plush armchair beside Hassan's couch with a yawn that either of them spoke.
"What're ya doin' down 'ere?" Sadiq murmured, his voice slurred by sleepiness. Hassan shrugged, and hugged himself a bit more tightly.
"I couldn't sleep."
To that, Sadiq offered a half chuckle. "Figures. We can't get Hera ta stop sleepin', and yer an insomniac."
Hassan smiled a little, looking up at the other more closely. Sadiq had heavy bangs under his soft hazel eyes, which lacked their usual sharpness because of the late hour. He was out of uniform, of course, wearing a plain white t-shirt that was too large even for him, which was saying something, and a pair of pajama pants that were very nice to his muscled legs. But the way he was curled up on himself in the armchair made him look less like a chiseled athlete and more like a giant teddy bear.
"And you are?"
"The perfect medium, o' course."
"But you're up now."
Sadiq yawned. "I got up ta piss. But when I checked yer bed and saw ya were gone, I came ta look fer ya."
But before Sadiq could elaborate as to why, more lumbering was heard from the steps. Sadiq tilted his head back, and Hassan looked up, both to see Herakles very tiredly falling down the stairs and into the common room. Hassan pulled his feet up to his chest, and Herakles plopped down on the other end of the couch, eyes half shut and eyebrows furrowed in a childish, pouty expression.
"Wha's yer problem?" Sadiq grumbled, poking Herakles' knee with the tip of his toe. Herakles huffed, but answered in a soft whisper.
"The bed got cold. Come back to sleep."
Sadiq rolled his eyes and poked him again. Herakles glared, but it faded soon as Hassan pulled his head down into his lap. Instantly Herakles' eyes fell shut, and Hassan threaded his fingers in his coarse, curly hair.
"Have some decency!" Sadiq complained. "Hassan can't sleep!"
"It's fine. I don't mind if he sleeps here."
Sadiq opened his mouth again to protest, but when he closed it Hassan looked up in concern.
"Y-yer… yer actually smilin'."
And Hassan was surprised to find the other was right. But his smile only grew, in the comfort of the two people he trusted most in the world, and he held his other arm out for Sadiq.
"We can't all fit on tha' couch," Sadiq complained. Hassan shook his head, and shifted over a little. As he expected, Herakles curled up and shifted as well, and soon there was enough room for Sadiq to curl up with them. So quickly he moved to the couch, sat down next to Hassan, and laid his head on the other's shoulder. Hassan chuckled softly, but a few moments later he was subdued again, this time with two bodies flanking his own.
Perhaps it was because of the added warmth, or perhaps it was just because of the comfort they provided, but it was only a matter of minutes after his two boyfriends curled up around him that Hassan found himself nodding off; minutes after that, he was sound asleep.
Their relationship was nothing if non-conventional. Sometimes, on the rare occasions when Sadiq had a moment to himself that wasn't eaten by class, wrestling practice, homework, or socializing, he would sit in the chair at his desk and put his feet up and think. Thinking was dangerous, and it wasn't exactly a pastime he indulged in, mostly because it resulted in worrying about what his Turkish mother would say about his being in a relationship with two men, one of whom was from Greece.
"Why're you up here alone?" Herakles' voice cut into Sadiq's thoughts. Speak of the Devil, his mind called out, as he put his feet back down on the floor and turned around. Herakles was leaning against the doorway, his tie hanging loose around his neck. He was shucking off his blazer, and tossed it onto one of the beds in the room as Sadiq finally answered.
"Aw, are ya worrying over me? So sweet of ya, Hera, I knew ya liked me."
Herakles scoffed, tossing his tie on the bed as well. Sadiq only chuckled, before getting up and coming over to the other, undoing the top button of his shirt and following up with his lips on Herakles' neck.
"You stink," Herakles commented airily. Sadiq was used to hearing that complaint, and was beginning to wonder if maybe it just bark without bite. He figured, since Herakles had never given him a bottle of body wash, it must have meant he was clear.
"I know," he answered just as lightly, pressing a last kiss to Herakles' jaw. "I'm glad ya came here fer me. Knew I was damn irresistible, but it's nice ta be reminded."
"Hassan sent me," Herakles responded bluntly. He didn't pull out of Sadiq's arms, though, and despite the sharpness in his tone he relaxed against the other. Sadiq pulled him into the room and shut the door behind them, before leading Herakles to his bed.
"Hassan is waiting for us."
"He's got patience."
Herakles gave Sadiq a bemused look, especially since Sadiq sat down beside him. It took a moment for him to decipher the expression before he shook his head.
"No, no, we're not gonna have sex. I just wanted ta talk..."
Herakles hummed. "Why not talk to Hassan?"
"He's not very good conversation, yanno?"
"That's not very fair. He's a good listener and always understanding."
"Yeah, I know. Don't be so quick ta judge! I just… wanted ta ask ya somethin'…"
Herakles sighed, and it took a moment until he looked up into Sadiq's hazel eyes. "What is it you wanted to talk about?"
"Us as in us two, or us as in us three?"
Instantly Herakles' eyebrows furrowed. "What's the problem."
"It's not… I jus'… don't really know what we are…"
"How so?" Herakles asked, his tone surprisingly soft.
"It's not like there are lotsa people like us," Sadiq argued. "It's not somethin' yer gonna find in any book, or on any show."
"There are threesomes for sex."
"But this isn't about jus' sex… right?"
Herakles sighed, and looked at Sadiq with perhaps the softest eyes he'd ever shown him.
"Are you here for the sex, Sadiq?"
"Are you here because one of us means enough to you that having the other tacked on is worth it?"
"Of course not!" Sadiq protested. "Ya both mean plenty ta me."
Herakles smiled, then, and pressed his palm gently against Sadiq's leg. "Well, then, isn't that your answer?"
Sadiq hesitated. In his mind he thought of many things he could say to draw out the argument, to point out how truly unsatisfactory he found that answer to be, but everything fell short on his lips.
"You think too much about what other people think of you. Just go with it," Herakles advised. And then he kissed Sadiq, which the other found much more satisfactory.
There was a knock at their door. A familiar knock, with a sort of lyrical quality to it, as though someone was using the door as a drum. It was Hassan's knock.
"Come in," Herakles called softly, and true enough Hassan walked in and dropped his books on the desk. His amber eyes lingered on their proximity, Herakles' undone shirt buttons, and the hand that was still placed on Sadiq's thigh.
"Are you leaving me out?" He whispered, but his eyes were smiling. Sadiq shook his head and held out his other arm, pulling Hassan into a kiss once he sat on his other thigh.
It only took a few more minutes after that for the three to shuck their shirts, lock the door, and snuggle into each other on Sadiq's bed.
If asked, Herakles would not be able to tell you who his favorite person on campus was. Perhaps as an automatic response he would insist it was Hassan, but only because he enjoyed disliking Sadiq as much as Sadiq enjoyed disliking him.
If asked who his favorite non-person on campus was, though, he would have no trouble answering. Except, of course, for the rule against pets on school grounds. But Artemis was not a pet; she was a stray he and Hassan (and later Sadiq, of course) had adopted.
Hassan and Herakles had first found Artemis in their first year of boarding school, lurking in the bushes and mewling in hunger as they ate their lunches outside. Neither could resist the impulse to feed her bits of meat from their sandwiches, and since then she always sought them for food and company.
She was even the reason their relationship had started, he mused fondly as he stroked her soft white fur. It was thanks to Artemis he and Sadiq had been able to have a normal conversation, and that Sadiq had stopped viewing him and Hassan as social lepers (well, for the most part, anyways).
"I had a feeling you'd be here," Hassan voice rang softly as he sat down beside Herakles in the bushes of their school's campus. From his bag he produced a small liver sandwich, which Artemis quickly started to eat out of his hand with a contented mewl. They laughed, and Hassan put the sandwich down on the floor for her.
"Why were you looking for me?"
Hassan shrugged. The two of them sat back in silence for a moment, watching the clouds slowly trek across the sky, before Herakles murmured.
"Do you think we could have ever done this without him?"
And as expected, Hassan knew exactly what Herakles meant. It was a question that had been nagging at Herakles' mind for a while; the level of comfort he had with Hassan now was nothing like what it was before Sadiq had joined their little group. And while he tried to follow his own advice and go with it, there was something unsettling about the fact that Sadiq was the one who helped him see Hassan in that sort of light.
Hassan licked his dry lips before he answered, "Does it matter? We're doing it now."
"But… do you?"
Hassan shifted his gaze down to the grass, and after a moment he shook his head.
"We wouldn't be able to sustain it," he explained sagely. Herakles mulled this over, and decided it made enough sense. Another silence fell between them.
And then the bushes rustled, and Sadiq plopped down before them, smirking as he dropped a few bits of his bread down for the cat. Far away from him, because he was allergic to cats, but the thought was still there.
"So, what're ya cohorts up ta?"
Sadiq smirked, and lazed on the grass between them.
"No surprise there."
"-And how much of a jerk you are," Herakles added as an afterthought. Sadiq didn't seem to mind, though, and laughed the insult off.
"If I'm a jerk, why do ya enjoy kissin' me so much? And doin' a bit more, of course."
Herakles scoffed, and when he sat up he caught a glimpse of what might've been Hassan's blush. Sadiq was still smirking lazily, showing off his obnoxiously sharp canine teeth. Herakles decided to remedy that by taking control of Sadiq's mouth, only he tried it at the same time Hassan did and their three faces pressed up against one another, three sets of lips barely brushing.
"Is this a new way of kissin' ya came up with?" Sadiq teased. "Cuz if it is, well, it needs some work."
"Shut up," Herakles frowned, before he leaned his head in again and properly kissed Sadiq into submission. Hassan had wisely moved his lips to Sadiq's neck, and he must have been nipping at his jugular because in no time at all Sadiq was moaning into Herakles' mouth.
"…F-fuckin' hate you both…" he managed to gasp out in between their lavish affections. Both Hassan and Herakles stilled at that, and both sat up to look down at Sadiq's flushed face.
"Do you really mean that?" Hassan asked, quiet as the wind. Sadiq nodded with a half scowl on his face.
"Of course I do. Yer both such- a-ah… - such fuckin' bastards."
"We are," Herakles agreed, as he continued to slide his hand down Sadiq's warm abs, under his wrinkled white shirt. "It's awful to put up with us, isn't it?"
"Y-Yer damn right, it is," Sadiq agreed. It was Hassan who surprised them all by laughing first, even though it was just a soft chuckle. He finished his doting on Sadiq's neck with a soft peck, and leaned in to give Herakles' neck the same kind treatment before he allowed himself to lie back on the grass and stare at the sky.
Herakles followed shortly after, pulling his hand back to his own person and looking up at the one cloud that maybe looked like a palm tree, if you tilted your head the right away. Sadiq grumbled, presumably at the suddenly lack of tender touches, but otherwise said nothing.
"This fits," Herakles mused softly. "I'm not sure why, but it does."
"What're ya talkin' about, exactly."
It was Hassan who answered, "Us," and Herakles smiled as realization dawned on Sadiq's face.
"Yeah… must be why Fate bought us all here..."
"…And why She made you a nosy douche bag..."
"…And why She made you a cat loving bastard…"
"…And why She made you a -"
Hassan sighed, and laid himself across both of their chests, curling up like a cat in the sunlight, the way Artemis had at their feet. At once they stopped arguing, and as Herakles rolled his eyes and felt himself getting sleepy too, he realized there was no moment that could be more perfect than this one.
A/N: Title and the quoted lyrics above come from the Thriving Ivory song Some Kind of Home (what else?).
I ran into a bit of writer's block while writing this, but I'm actually happy I did because my first two ideas for this fic were sort of awful, and I am rather content with this piece. I hope you all enjoyed