Warning. Gay, and a lot of cursing. A lot.

Disclaimer. Hetalia isn't mine. Cool? Cool.

In which the brothers are obnoxious.

Matthew was meant to stay under surveillance for at least a day, to make sure he was on the road to full recovery and wouldn't have another fainting spell. He didn't exactly mind staying in the infirmary bed. It was quiet, not uncomfortable, and he had some nice, relaxing time to himself. What wasn't to like about that?

"Mattie! Your Hero's here!"

Oh, right. Alfred could come in and bother him, and Matthew couldn't actually leave. Unless, of course, Alfred made enough of an ass out of himself that he got thrown out (probable), Matthew had to either call a nurse in and throw his brother out himself (which, as much as he wanted to, he'd never do) or sit through it. Matthew being Matthew, he chose to sit through it.

Alfred came bursting into Matthew's room and threw himself at his brother, nearly picking him up out of the bed in a crushing bear hug. "Mattie-don't-ever-scare-me-like-that-again!" He nearly sobbed, forcefully rubbing his head against his brother's.

Matthew tried his best to shove his brother off, but the man really was made of steel, and so he only just barely managed to get enough room to breathe. "Al, I'm fine, eh!" He tried to say, but with all the hugging and the nuzzling and Kumatino growling from where he'd been shoved to the floor, Matthew only got out, "Al-m'fineh," which didn't make much sense.

Thankfully (sort of?), Kumatino had grown to dislike Alfred lately, pinning all of his "rude awakenings" on his owner's brother (plus, there was that whole "closet-kidnapping" affair), so when Alfred ignored his growling in favor of continuing to smother Matthew in hugs and kisses (much to Matthew's embarrassment), Kumatino bit him. On the butt.

Alfred let out a shriek to rival a horror movie victim and jumped up onto the bed, trying to burrow into Matthew's lap. "It bit me! Your stupid bear bit me!"

Matthew managed to shove his brother back onto the floor, who landed with a gigantic thud and a whine, and said, "You locked him in your closet! In the dark! The hell, eh?"

After picking himself up and finally sitting properly in a chair, Alfred actually had the decency to look ashamed. He fiddled with his hands and stared holes into the floor, biting his lip and hoping Matthew wouldn't turn his passive-aggressive rage on to full blast, because that was terrifying. "I heard you say that Kuma-whatever-his-name-is was wearing you out, so...I was just trying to help!" He whined.

"...oh, maple." Matthew sighed, thoroughly guilt-tripped into no longer being annoyed. "Thanks, Al, but Kumatino's not why I haven't been sleeping."

Alfred's head snapped up. "You're not mad?" He asked, voice bordering on perversely excited

"No, Al," Matthew sighed again. "I'm not mad."

Alfred whooped and pulled his brother into another hug. He had enough sense not to crush his brother this time, though, and Matthew actually hugged back (much to Alfred's added glee). After a moment or two of comfortable silence (although it was awkwardly long for a brotherly hug, one can admit), Alfred broke the mood by asking, "...you're not seeing that German guy, are you?"

Matthew sputtered and pulled back, cheeks tinged back. "German guy? You mean Ludwig?"

Alfred gasped loudly, eyes wide. "You are, aren't you?" No! Mattie couldn't be seeing anyone! Especially not someone that, that...large! And male! And, and...German! (Not that there was anything wrong with Germans; they, like the rest of the world, just couldn't date his brother).

"No, Alfred!" Matthew snapped. Oh, shit. He had said Alfred. He never says Alfred, unless shit's about to get real.

Alfred swallowed nervously and inched his chair backward as much as it could quietly go, wincing at the obnoxious scree it made when it could no longer go quietly. "S-so, you guys are just friends?"

"Yes. We're just friends, Al. Why are you asking?"

"...'cause I saw him leave here." Which was fucking suspicious, if you asked him. A horrid idea suddenly popped into Alfred's head, and he gasped loudly again. "He didn't hurt you, did he? Is he why you're in here?" He cried, voice far too high (not that he'd ever admit to it) and far too loud.

"What? No!" Matthew shook his head, running a tired hand through his hair.

"Then-" Alfred was interrupted by someone clearing their throat sharply, and Alfred tensed while Matthew groaned quietly, slowly turning around to see a clearly annoyed nurse standing behind him.

"I'm afraid, Mr. Jones, that I'm going to have to ask you to leave. You're bothering some of the other patients," she said.

"Other patients? Geez, how many people are in here?" Alfred asked, completely ignoring that he was being obnoxious enough that he was actually being kicked out (just like Matthew knew he would).

"Mr. Jones," the nurse snapped.

"I'm sorry about him," Matthew said quickly, before Alfred could say something else stupid. "He's just going now, right, Alfred?"

Alfred swallowed nervously again. There was that passive-aggressive rage he was so scared of. "Ri-right, Mattie. I'll, uh, see-you-later!" He rushed out, trying to put as much distance between him and Matthew's sob inducing rage as he possibly could.

That German guy, though... He'd seen him leaving Mattie's room when he'd come rushing to his brother's side like the Hero he was. When he'd asked the nurse, she'd said that he'd stayed with Mattie until he'd woken up.

It's gotta be him, Alfred thought. He's gotta be the reason why Mattie hadn't been sleeping at night! He probably did something horrible to Mattie, and that's why he had to go to the nurse!

That was it. That guy was going down.

Where the tits was Westen?

Gilbert grumbled under his breath, stomping through the halls and telling anyone who shot him a dirty look to piss right the fuck off. He had to find his brother! He had important shit to ramble about, damn it, and Westen was the only one who would ever listen (besides Matt, but he never really gave the kid a choice). He wasn't in his dorm room, the commons, the weight room, the Italian brat's room, the kitchens, or anywhere else, not even outside!

Where the fuck was he?

When he finally found his brother (who shouldn't be able to disappear like that, I mean, he was built like a goddamn mountain for fuck's sake), he was leaving the infirmary. Gilbert's heart didn't stop, no, and he didn't pale or start to freak out or-

"Westen, what the fuck happened?"

That was not concern.

Ludwig sighed and pushed his now very flail-y brother off. "I'm not hurt, Gilbert, I'm fine. Honestly."

Gilbert was circling around him then, eying him, just to make sure, and when he had decided for himself that, yes, Westen honestly was fine, he grinned and smacked his brother on the ass. The resulting yelp and deep red flush on Westen's face was awesome. "Cool, then why were you in the nurse's, huh? Break some kid's nose again?"

Ludwig rubbed his backside and grumbled something about that being an accident, pleas stop bringing it up, and was cut off by a brown and blue blur barreling passed, shouting something about, "Mattie, your Hero's coming!"

Both brothers blinked and stared after the swinging infirmary door. It was silent for a moment, then Gilbert snorted. "You put Matt in the hospital?"

Ludwig sputtered. "No!" He flushed all the way to the roots of his hair again and grumbled under his breath before he shook his head and straightened up. "I caught Matthew in a fainting spell and carried him to the infirmary."

Gilbert snorted again. "Matt fainted? He's such a girl..." Then, it hit him. "You remember Matt?"

Ludwig blinked, Gilbert's hands suddenly balled up in the front of his shirt. He gently set his brother back down, who looked far too wild-eyed for his taste. "Yes, I do. Why is that so surprising?" It wasn't like it was hard to remember Matthew's name. He was pre- interesting (not pretty, Ludwig, remember? You don't call boy's pretty. Feliciano being cute was an exception, but he was the only one, okay?)

Gilbert took a few deep breaths. Nobody remembers Matt. His own fucking family forgets about him half the time, especially that British bastard. He forgot him all the time, and his asshole brother only remembers him on occasion. Francis remembers him because Francis remembers everybody (and their, ahem, assets). That Cuban dude remembers him only half the time; the other half, he's busy mistaking him for his asshole brother and trying to beat him up. The only other people to really remember him were fucking Ivan, Ivan's big breasted sister, and that one dude who was high all the damn time, but Ivan was a creepy fucking bastard who probably stalked the whole world, so that was no surprise. His sister had some sort of school girl crush on Matt, and the high dude...well, Gilbert didn't know why he remembered Matt, actually. And Gilbert, being his awesome self, remembered Matt, of course! (He told himself it was for his kick ass pancakes; really, it was because people were starting to ignore him, too.)

Why was Westen suddenly remembering Matt? Were they really that buddy-buddy already, for Westen to carry Matt to the infirmary? Knowing Westen, he probably sat with him, too! Bullshit.

Why, why, why? Maybe... Maybe Westen liked Matt? He did seem to have a thing for the cute, clumsy type, like that Italian kid, what's his name? Feliciano? Not his brother, though, the one that cursed all the time. Fuck, what was his name? Whatever. Regardless, Ludwig liked cute boys. Matt was cute. Therefore, Ludwig liked Matt.

...oh, fuck no!

Ludwig was slowly backing up from his quietly cackling brother when the nurse snapped at them to leave, because some people need to have their rest! (Oh, but thank you for being such a sweetie and sitting with him, Ludwig, just please take your brother back to the psych ward.) The blue and brown blur was seen again almost immediately afterward, but it thankfully didn't run into them that time.

"Hey, Westen, I'm going to go talk to Francis. Go do whatever it is Westens do in their spare time, yeah?" And then Gilbert was a white and blue blur. Ludwig blinked.

Something told him this would not end well.

Author's Notes.

I like writing as Gil. He's so much fun.

Maximo Park has been proving to be the perfect band to listen to while writing this. "Our Velocity" reminds me of both Gilbert and Alfred, although a bit more Alfred than Gilbert, I think. I buy books/I never read/then I tell you some more about/me! Anybody?

Like I said, switching things up a little. Good, bad, same as before?