A/N: OTL what is this. Written in a moment of loneliness. I have more ideas. Probably will be... hmm... a 5-shot at most? I actually really like this story, hur hur hur... It's super-intense PruHun, so if you don't approve, then don't read. No hating please!

Mathias = Denmark
Mei = Taiwan (hur hur hur)
Bella = Belgium. Lol, Bella's always Belgium.

Time: Saturday before Homecoming, 11:48 PM

Place: Carriedo Residence [which, by the way, is this ginormous mansion? Yeah. I know. RICH.]

Mathias was probably on his fourth beer now (or maybe it was more than that. I wasn't really counting). He was prancing around with his shirt off screaming profanities and laughing like some crazy person. Funnily enough, it seemed to work with chicks, because Mei was hitting on him. A lot. And he was hitting right back, the player.

I snickered. That guy was totally in for a legit hangover tomorrow. Morning, bitches…

So Antonio had decided, since his parents were out of town for the weekend, to have this crazy-ass, raging party the weekend before Homecoming where all us upperclassmen were basically going to drink like no tomorrow. Definitely great preparation for college. I mean, screw AP classes and SATs. This right here is college life. Tony had pretty much invited the entire junior and senior class, and there were people everywhere: on the couches, in the kitchen, on the pool deck, in the pool. It was insane.

Mass chaos. If you were gonna look that up in the dictionary, this party would be the picture next to it. Likewise, if you were gonna look up "fucking wasted," Mathias's picture would be right next to it.

"WHOOOOO!" Mattie stood on top of the coffee table that had been pushed up against the wall to make room for the makeshift dance floor. People cheered as he grinned and waved at the crowd with a neon green megaphone. (Who makes megaphones neon green?)


I nearly spewed my beer out in the crowd; I'd started laughing so hard. Who'd want to play a lame middle-school make-out game? Uncool! I mean, Mattie was my bro, but dude! So uncool!

"EXCEPT WE'RE GONNA CHANGE IT UP A LITTLE BIT!" A blond head bobbed through the crowd, making its way up to the coffee table. This time, I really did spew my beer, all over Francis's hair (but he didn't really care… he was busy being… well… drunk). Arthur? What the hell? I remembered that Arthur got a little loopy when he was drunk, but all Alfred had told me was when the guy was drunk, he'd just bitch about how everyone in America were idiots. (Yyyyyeah, thanks.)

But anyway, Arthur and Mathias were up on the coffee table, both red in the face and drunk. Somehow Arthur had "HE'S GONNA DIE IN THE END" written on his chest and someone had drawn a goofy face on Mattie's.

Question: Was this night scaring the hell out of me?

Answer: You do not know how much.

"So guyyysssh," Mattie said, slurring his words. "Ya know how they're gonna be in th' closhet? WELL WE'RE GONNA PUT 'EM IN THE BEDROOOM!"

I drank some more beer, hoping that the alcohol would somehow warp reality so that the night made sense. It didn't work. Damn my Prussian dad, I thought. Somehow I'd always been able to hold my liquor (better than Arthur, anyway, pfft) pretty well. It took a lot more to get me drunk than most people. So at that moment, I was still pretty damn sober.

Which, at the moment, was a major downside.

Arthur held up two ginormous glass bowls of phones. Probably one with guys' phones and one with girls' phones. How or where he got them, I have no idea. I got the feeling I didn't really want to know.

"Okay!" Arthur crowed into the megaphone. "First guy in IS…." Everyone around me stomped their feet as the drum roll, while I stood there going, Really, guys? But before I could say anything, Arthur hoisted the bowl up high (which swung precariously on the balance of his arm… very dangerous) while Mattie dug his hand around. And pulled out a phone. Actually, it was one of those Android phones. A really familiar Android phone.

A really fucking scarily familiar Android phone.

"GILBO!" Mattie announced, waving my phone—which I swear had been in my pocket five minutes ago—triumphantly in the air.

"HOW THE HELL DID YOU MOTHERFUCKERS GET MY PHONE?" I screamed, but everyone's cheers drowned me out.

"It'll be good for you, Gilbert!" Francis yelled drunkenly in my ear. "Relieve some of that sexual tension you got building up—"

"I HAVE NO SEXUAL TENSION!" I raged at him, while he laughed in my face (eugh... trust me, you do not know want to know what Francis's breath smells like). But then Mattie reached into the other bowl and pulled out another familiar phone. An iPhone with a flower cover.

"NO FUCKING WAY!" I yelled, staring at the front. Arthur giggled like mad and Mathias proclaimed the other girl's name into the megaphone.

"LIZZIE! COME ON DOWN!" The crowd whooped and cheered as she made her way up to the front. What did they think this was, The Price is Right? I clenched my fists. Screw fate. This isn't funny, guys!

"Oy, Gilbo!" Mattie threw an arm around my shoulders and laughed obnoxiously in my ear. "Looks like you're gonna get some tonight!"

"Shut up, man!" I tried to fight him off, but he was surprisingly strong, even while drunk. Somehow he managed to drag me up the stairs and throw me in the room.

"Really, guys?" I whined, but no, the door slammed in my face and the lock clicked. I pounded on the door. "Guys? GUYS!" No response, except if you count Mattie and Arthur giggling like mad.

Sometimes I hate my bros. They'd just left me and Elizaveta all alone in a room. With a bed. I'm going to fucking murder both of you!

Just great.

Did I ever mention that she was, I dunno, the girl that I've liked for, what, A WHILE NOW? Yeah, all started when we were neighbors and best friends and fought all the time. I'm not sure what happened, to be honest, but she randomly got all touchy and wouldn't talk to me the summer before high school. And plus, she went off on this thing where she basically toured Europe—cool, right? Very. But when I got on the bus first day of freshman year, I didn't see her. I didn't even see her at the bus stop, and she lives next door to me! It took me a week to figure out that the hot brunette dating my douche-y cousin Roderich was LIZZIE! Seriously! She'd become … girly. It was almost as scary as Francis drunk! No, scratch that. It was worse than that, even.

Since then, she's dated him all through freshman and sophomore year. Now we're juniors. They're still dating. And we're stuck in a room playing "Seven Minutes In Heaven."


"Gilbert." I turned around and saw Lizzie walking towards me. "Let's just get this over with."

Next thing I knew she's kissing me.

Okay? She started it! I didn't do anything! Honestly… I felt really guilty about the whole thing. Roddy might've been a douche, but I had morals.

But well… it was really, really nice, actually. She was warm and her lips were soft and she tasted like beer and Snickers, both of which I like eating.

Then my shirt disappeared. And somehow we weren't up against the door anymore. Nope. We made use of the bed.

At that point, I was feeling really bad about the whole thing. If they were still dating, and she was hooking up with me, then technically… she was cheating on him.

But then she curled her fingers in my hair and wrapped her legs around my waist. I felt really dizzy for a second. My brain was dying on me. "Lizzie—what—are you sure about this?" I had a… well, an odd feeling about what was going to happen.

She stared at me with clear green eyes. "Gil. Come on."

"Lizzie, I—" My words were cut off because she shut me up with a kiss.

"Take my shirt off already, dumbass," she teased. Her fingers tugged on my belt.

I tensed. I won't lie, I was, well, pretty happy that she wanted this, but she was still dating Roddy, dammit! And wasn't this going too far for a Saturday night hookup? Was Roddy not delivering or something? (Of course, if you'd known my prick of a cousin, that'd probably be true. The guy was too hung up on his piano to think about stuff like this. And he'd "rather not fall in with Gilbert's crowd," quoting exactly what he said to my dad. Yeah, thanks, man.) Seriously. The girl wanted some action.

And as awesome as I was… well…

She seemed to notice that I was having a tiny meltdown because she looked into my eyes and asked, "Is that okay?"

I stared at her for a second, then I lowered my head.

"Anything you want," I whispered against her lips.

Anything for you, Lizzie.