A fic edicated to all those social events that sound okay when you plan them, and you choose a date that seems a far ways away, and then when you actually have to follow through with the commitment you realise you would rather work a six hour shift at mcdonalds. -.-'
This is hurried crack of my own personal brand, based one my OTP. Heres hoping y'all enjoy!
Oh, no, I don't own hetalia, the sisterhood of the travelling pants, twilight… yeah. I don't own anything mentioned here, so yeah.
I turned the page of the magazine, running my middle finger thoughtlessly over my flushed lower lip. The little key lamp I had stolen from Alfred cast a white circle of light onto the page, completely unsuitable for reading by but perfect for drawing small, specific aspects of the images into sharp focus.
"Wow, kimbra, look at this one." I tugged the blanket further over my head and shuffled over on my stomach to show the bear nestled beside me beneath the covers. "His hair is white like yours."
The animal peered at the glossy full colour shot and blinked his beady black eyes.
With that he turned his face away. I pouted, clutching the magazine possessively.
"Just because you have no taste…"
I returned to my surveying.
Footsteps outside my door made me jump almost straight out of my skin. I dropped the light and shoved the book under my pillow, head popping out from under the covers just as my door cracked open.
"Still awake mon cher?"
"Oui papa." It was no use denying it. He could see I clearly was. Still wearing my glasses too. Hopefully he wouldn't notice anything unusual about that.
"Good. I need to talk to you about tomorrow." He flicked on my light, it hurt my eyes but he didn't seem bothered, ambling in as he did on a flutter of sweet scented air. For some reason, he was carrying a cup of tea. I winced and sat up.
"What is it, its 11pm."
"I know, I know. I'll make it quick." He sat down on the end of my bed and sipped the tea, pulling a face. "Ew, gross. Anyway, Mattheiu. Big day tomorrow, oui?"
I nodded, pushing a lock of hair out of my face.
"Don't be." He smiled and, setting the tea on my desk, tugged softly on the long blonde curl spiralling from the crown of my head. "You will do so well, I know."
"Hey!" I hit his hand away, blushing. "Don't do that!"
"Heh, I'm sorry mon cher, but it was so tempting… in any case, are you ready to meet everyone else?"
"Of course I am."
"You're not going to panic or anything? You won't make a scene?"
"Papa, shouldn't you be making this speech to Alfred."
"I already did. He seems more than terrified." A thoughtful frown. "Unusual that… hopefully he won't do anything stupid to embarrass me or your father."
"I'm sure he won't dad. Neither of us will." I pushed the corner of my porno back further under my pillow. "I will be on my best behaviour."
"Of course you will." Papa stood and picked up the cup of tea. "Now, goodnight to you my lovely, I'm off to deliver this to that charming father of yours before he decides to cook me breakfast tomorrow. Sleep well."
"I will papa, I will."
But when he closed the door and I flopped back in bed, I knew that there was no way in hell I would be sleeping tonight.
The red checks on my dress matched my shoes perfectly. I wove through woods and transgressed rivers, swinging a little hatchet merrily and humming a happy little tune. The air smelt of pine trees and flannel shirts. Of oil and lumbermills and gurgling rivers flowing with salmon. Plenty of bears, plenty of wool, plenty of everything delicious and sexy and wooded.
"you like wood?"
I spun around at the sound of his voice. It was low and gravely, like a growl from the bottom of a barrel chest.
"don't you know it."
A flirty wink, I twirled and blew the lumberjack a kiss. Oh, a man… and WHAT a man! Tall and blonde, rough shirt open revealing a broad, thickly haired chest. He had a beard and eyes the colour of coals, his arms were like tree trunks, muscular and powerful. My heart fluttered in my chest.
"pretty thing aren't you." he winked and growled, slumping against a tree. "well, come on then. Come and get it…"
I stood awkwardly in the doorway and tried to see past Alfred. We had been there for ten minutes and already he was getting in front of me, getting spoken to by a throng of strangers and being generally attention hogging. Nervous my ass, he'd never looked so confident in his life as far as I remember. Talking to everyone, grinning ridiculously… it wasn't fair. At all.
"Sit down!" A blonde man, tall but to trim to be of any interest to me, brought a gavel down on the table in front of him forcibly. "All af you, sit down and prepare! Come on!" he had a heavy, borderline ridiculous accent.
"Yes, yes." Arthur, worked into quite the tizz, placed a guiding hand on my shoulder and hurried me forward. Alfred had been whisked away, chattering excitedly to a white blonde man who was wearing what may have been the singlet and jeans he had slept in, and gave off quite the strong aura of one who thought he was surely the best shit ever.
They should get along just fine then.
"Sit down." Arthur ushered, grabbing papas wrist to prevent him wandering off "and where's Alfred… oh dear." He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "Francis, go fetch Alfred quick, before Gilbert infects him with the douche."
Well, that made my papa double take. It made me double take too. But I didn't have time to ask. Arthur had forced me roughly into a chair before I could even react, and shoved the chair roughly under the table. I hissed and swore under my breath. Treating me like a child… I wasn't six for god's sake!
"RIGHT!" the blond man with the gavel had lost his rag. "Everybody, sit down this instant! the book club meeting is about to begin and i know ve all vant to finish this quickly so lets get started people."
I frowned, jaw a little loose. Had he just said… what?
Papa and Arthur had been going to these meetings weekly for as long as I could remember. And for some reason, what with the seriousness they had always referred to them with and the fuss they had made about Al and I finally being old enough to tag along, I had been under the impression that they were, you know, kind of important. Some government thing, or work thing. Even a sports club. But a book-club? Seriously?
Confusion disarmed me for a moment, as everyone in the room scuttled to find a chair. Beside the blonde man, a really pretty auburn haired guy with a bright smile and a rebel curl not dissimilar to my own. And next to him… well, his mirror image. If mirrors could turn personalities round about as well. This dude looked liable to spit poison. The fellow to the left of him appeared to be whispering into his ear to prevent him doing just that. I let my eyes linger on him for a moment, but decided that he was much too short and pleasant looking to suit my taste. Besides, green eyes struck me as babyish. Next door still… papa and Arthur. Nothing of interest there. Alfred, then me, then-
He was about two and a half times my size, pale blonde and positively orgasmic. I mean utterly, breathtakingly . Large hands folded calmly in front of him on the table, hulking beige coat giving off a faint musky odour tinged with what may have been alcohol. His arms… god his arms were immense. I stared at them for a moment, lost in the fantasy of what they might be like beneath that coarse fabric. Muscular, maybe. Meaty, perhaps. Maybe even with a bit of puppy fat, and thickly haired pale blonde and delicious.
Oh my… the thought was making me a little hot under the collar!
A large white scarf obscured his face, but I didn't need to look past his wildly broad shoulders to know he was a bear of a man. My bear of a man.
As of this day, I claim this stranger in the name of Matthew Bonnefoy-Williams. Forever and ever amen.
"Hey. Hey Matty." Alfred elbowed me sharply, jerking me from my fantasies.
"Look at that guy." He pointed surreptitiously to a man with wavy brown hair, slumped face down on the table and quite obviously asleep. "Who even is that? Man oh man they know some nutters."
"Indeed…" my eyes swivelled back to the man with the scarf. He seemed to be listening quite intently to whatever the boss man was talking about. (A book, I assumed. Though the way he was shouting about it and waving it around, one would think he was actually explaining in great detail about a scrapbook of his experience being stuck for seven hours in rush-hour traffic.)
"And that fulla next to you. He's the size of a house!" Alfred snorted obnoxiously and I snapped my head back to him, eyes slitted. Oh no he did NOT just totally insult the love of my life.
"And how about that blonde over there? Mmm… I'd like a piece of her all right."
"Dude, that's a dude." I smiled silkily; feel quite as though revenge had been exacted. "His name is Feliks. He likes horses."
Alfred looked pretty gobsmacked. Good. That's how I like my brother. Serves him right.
"How do you even know that?"
I shrugged. I'd met the man earlier today, when he complimented me on my hair. But I wasn't going to tell Alfred that.
He immediately fell silent.
And so, book club commenced. The speakers travelled anti-clockwise. From the shouty blonde, to the auburn man (who, fyi, was utterly away with the fairies, punctuating his ramble about 'the sisterhood of the travelling pants' with redundant syllables and somehow ending up talking about the matrix: reloaded.), to the semi-passable but very passionately anti review of 'the DaVinci code presented by the ditz's look alike and his green eyed friend. Papa and Arthur took turns. Papa reviewing a mills and boon, Arthur dissecting Wuthering heights so painfully I felt like dropping dead. Not even kidding, I would have happily laid down on the table and karked it.
Alfred and I were exempt, for obvious reasons.
And then it was my loves turn.
"Go on then, Ivan." The blonde guy (called Ludwig. Had to remember that,) Gestured with his hand. My heart leapt at the sound of his name. Ivan… it hadn't been my particularly favourite name up until that exact moment, but hot damn…
He stood, a great towering fellow creaking to his feet and loosening his scarf.
Shit his voice was rough and gruff and like walking on eggshells. I loved it.
"I just finished reading the Twinight saga."
Beside me, Alfred snorted. I kicked him firmly under the desk.
"… the excuse me?" Ludwig arched an eyebrow and Feliciano (that was the ditzy guys name right?) slumped on his shoulder, frowned.
"Ve~ don't you mean the twilight saga mister Ivan?"
He shook his head. "Nope. Twinight. See, this way, we can avoid certain… copyright issues associated with misappropriated characters and titles to popular books, movies and TV shows."
Silence filled the meeting room. And then, all the way at the back, the white haired man, Alfred's friend, who by the looks of things was preparing to review 'everybody poops' jammed his hand in the air.
"Don't you think it's a bit late for that Ivan? I mean the matrix: reloaded? Wuthering heights? And lets not forget the fact that all of us here are all really just-"
"Shut up Gilbert." Ludwig slammed the gavel. "Just shut the hell up."
Ivan beside me cleared his throat.
"As I was saying…"
And he was off. I'd never been so riveted by anything in my life. Turns out he didn't like Twinight, on the basis that there was no jugular ripping or spleen eating, and that he found all of the characters blah blah blah… I stopped listening after that. It was like some kind of halo had surrounded him, glowing beautifully. From my angle I could sort of see up his right nostril. And what a nostril. Wow. Just… wow.
He dropped heavily into his seat when he was finished, and everyone in the room was silent.
I could practically hear myself drooling.
"Okay then." Ludwig nodded. "Kiku, your turn."
I sat through two more tortuous book reviews, barely listening, gazing achingly at Ivan. Oh Ivan…
When the third review started, I decided I couldn't take any more. I reached out shyly, and tugged his sleeve.
He didn't seem to notice.
Now that wasn't cool! I tried again, tugging a little harder. A fait frown crinkled his brow, and he inclined his face to me just a little bit.
Oh shit his eyes were violet. Huge and deep and shining with bright starry perfection. I batted my lashes and felt my face pinken.
"… hello." He blinked curiously and tilted his head to the side. He had a strong nose, and a soft child-like face.
"… uh huh." He stared at me blankly for a few moments. I wiggled in my seat, fiddling with a lock of hair and trying to look as easy and appealing as I possibly could.
"Right!" Ludwig barked, snapping us out of our moment. "Half time! Refreshments are in the foyer. Go to! Hurry!" he snagged Feliciano around the shoulders and marched out, gavel spinning a little where it had dropped. Everyone else followed suit, chairs scraping on hard floors, Alfred jerked from his light sleep (now who's the nutter face down on the desk asleep? Okay, still the wavey haired guy, but also Alfred.) By that 'douche'. Papa and Arthur were locked in a heated debate. No-one bothered paying attention to me. Which was fine. Because Ivan remained seated, and he was looking at me.
Ivan was looking at me!
"So…" I smiled and unzipped my hoodie as surreptitiously as I could. "Come here often?"
"… Da." He still seemed a little taken aback that I was there, talking to him. "What about you?"
"This is my, um… first time." I dared to reach for the end of his scarf, rubbing the soft fabric between my fingers. "I gotta admit… I'm a little nervous."
"Yeah… this is the first time I've met my parents' friends." I dropped his scarf and shuffled a little closer. I was starting to feel a little hot, my hands were shaking. "I was worried I'd make a bad impression…"
Ivan laughed and smoothed a large, gloved hand through his hair.
"Trust me, I am no friend of your parents." He sighed and hopped to his feet. "But I am hungry. Come get food with me, da?"
No doubt about it, Ivan was the biggest man I had ever seen. He towered over me, hulking and powerful and glorious… immense, actually.
"Da." I scrambled out of my chair and slipped off my hoodie quickly, casting it onto my chair and immediately latching onto his arm. He seemed alarmed at having a thin, blonde haired French Canadian boy in jeans and a wolf parade t-shirt suddenly attached to his person, but adjusted easily.
"Clingy one aren't you?"
I blushed and giggled shyly. His arm in his sleeve was thick and warm.
"I like you Ivan…"
"uh-huh. I can tell."
"So how old are you?" I asked him casually. "Like, I'm fifteen. Is that weird?"
He frowned and drunk straight from the bottle of vodka, before setting it down on the desk in front of him and peering at me over the top of his scarf.
"What do you mean by that comrade?"
"I mean… I'm fifteen years old. How old are you? Is there a big gap?"
"oh." He nodded and creased his brow, doing some quick math. "Um… nope. Not really. Seventeen years."
"So you are thirty-two?"
"Da." He pulled off his gloves lazily and set them down beside him. "Why do you ask?"
I thought about that for a second. Thirty two was a good age, I decided. A very good age indeed. He was passing these tests with flying colours so far.
"Well, how about this. Have you ever had a beard?"
This one really shocked him.
"Yeah, like, facial hair." I rubbed my cheek, a little distressed at the smooth, stubbleless skin there. "a big one. All scratchy like."
"Would you grow one?" I leant forward eagerly, almost falling off my chair. "You would look so awesome with a beard. It'd be such a pretty colour."
"… Do you think?"
I'd never seen a man look so awkward before! It was so cute! And sexy… his pink cheeks, his wide purple eyes. And he was so deliciously broad it just magnified the effect and made me all hot under the collar. God I wanted those arms around me, I wanted to drown in him, to peel off those clothes and see thick blonde hair matting his chest and arms and legs. I wanted him in flannel and denim and wool, sweating and cooking over an open fire, axe slung over one shoulder.
I want his dick buried in my body, thick and deep and hard.
"Oh god yes…" my arm coiled around his and I dragged myself closer. "You would look soooooo good with a beard."
"Are you very hairy? Like, under your clothes? Do you have a hairy chest or something like that?"
"Your chest. Is it hairy? I bet it is…"
Ivan's blush grew approximately six times more noticeable.
"Right everybody! Back to your seats, ve are continuing with the meeting."
Ludwig had resumed his position and silence fell in the room.
"Bervald will now present his review of a hitchhikers guide to the galaxy. Complete silence in the room vhile others are talking. Thank you."
I groaned and looked at the time.
It was one o'clock.
"Ivan wait!" I bounded after the man when I saw him leaving, stumbling out of the door and meeting him smack head on in the foyer.
"Are you leaving already?" I asked. Somewhat redundantly, because clearly he was. Also, the word 'already' was a bit overkill too, because it was about 6pm and the book club meeting had been over for an hour and a half. Everyone now was just standing around chatting.
"Da." He smiled cheerfully and sorted through the umbrellas in the stand, withdrawing what looked like a large metal pipe from in amongst parasols and canes. "It's a long way to my house, I can't stay around here all night. I have matters to attend to."
"Oh." I felt my face fall. God knows how much longer I would have to stay here. Everyone had already forgotten I existed, much to taken with Alfred to even look my way, and Arthur and Ludwig were apparently very much in the middle of a debate over some book of another. I dreaded to think that we might not leave until ten.
"Why do you ask?" He patted my head kindly and I blushed.
"Well… because…" what to say, what to say… "I really enjoyed talking to you today. And… I would have liked to talk some more."
"Oh?" he seemed to find this notion delightful, and I was taken again by how childlike he was, innocent in a friendly giant kind of a way. "Well that's so lovely Matvey!"
"Hmm…" I stared at my feet and played absentmindedly with a lock of hair.
"I don't have many people who want to be my friend." He remarked, hand coming to rest on my shoulder. "And although you ask some peculiar questions, I'm so happy you want to be around me that much."
His smile made my heart do a somersault. Actually.
"Were my questions that weird?"
"yes." he nodded and touched my cheek with a gentle, gloved hand. "But they were also very cute. And I'm flattered."
And for a moment, I was actually sort of embarrassed. I suppose I had sort of thrown myself at him, and the hair question was a little bit personal.
"So you picked up on that huh?"
"Of course I did. I picked up on it as soon as I saw you. I have a sixth sense for that kind of thing you know." he laughed softly. "If you met my sister, you'd understand why."
"Oh, okay." I stood up as straight as I could and tried to meet his eyes. They were warm and sweet, and high above me. "Well, okay then. I suppose… I guess I should ask… are you interested?"
He raised his eyebrows and rubbed my shoulder gently.
"I'm a lot older than you Matvey…"
"So?" I shook my head. "I don't care. I think you're handsome and you are kind… I'm a lot more mature than I look you know."
"And when you say things like that it's an immediate sign that you are not." he said it with a broad and very sweet grin. "You are really, really adorable you know."
"So you are interested?"
"Well, Matvey, it's like this." He crouched down so that we were on even levels. "I think you are lovely. You are pretty and bright and I'd love nothing more than to take you home with me right now." Soft lips caressed mine briefly, my eyes widened and my spine turned to jelly. "But I think, if I did, your parents would kill me."
"s-so what? You're going to listen to t-them?" I gazed into his eyes, trying to beg him to wrap me in his arms and carry me away. They were deep and swirled, clouded with alien emotions and overflowing with tenderness.
"Of course not." He giggled and stood, pulling me into his embrace. "Come on then, hurry up. My cars the blue one out front."
I was out the door and buckled in the front seat before he even realised what happened.