A/N: Idea popped into my head after reading some magazine article. Too bad I forgot the name. Read and review! Even if it sucks! :3
Warnings and Pairings: Rated T for shounen ai and crude language. PruCan, GerIta, Spamano, and USUK are all I've decided on for now. I may end up randomly shipping the others and do crazy love polygons including the ones I've already set up above, unless I really dislike a pairing (i.e. America x Belarus. I don't see it happening) or if I think they shouldn't be broken (i.e. SuFin. Do not argue!). May contain glaring plot holes and grammatical errors due to run-ons. Sorry! They are slightly OOC in the beginning for later plots.
Summary: Matthew operates as a ghostwriter in his school. When forced to pretend to be Gilbert's boyfriend, he ends up getting more than what he bargained for.
Disclaimer: If I owned Hetalia, the Nordics would get a lot more screen time and PruCan would be canon. Sadly, I don't.
Chapter 1: Ghostwriter
There were five posters in total taped around the school. All said the exact same thing.
"E-MAIL peacekeeper0701 at emailprovider . com"
The teachers were utterly perplexed though they had taken them down immediately. The school cameras had all been mysteriously disabled, and they weren't fixed until school had already resumed the next day. None of the faculty knew what was going on. Not to mention this has already happened three times before the previous semester.
However, for the students it was completely different. Unknown to faculty, there was one student in Hetalia High who was willing to take commissions through email. Commissions to write papers for them. It was odd. All they had to do was email a sample of their writing, transfer some money into an unknown PayFriend account, instructions and due date for the essay, and within a few days a document would be emailed back over. (There was a rule that the email had to be sent withing three days of the due date so he would at least have time to write.) It was amazing how one person had that workload done so easily. As far as everyone knew, no one had ever been turned down by this person unless they wouldn't pay. Delightfully well written as well, and almost in the same style of the student himself or herself. However, due to its shady nature, for some reason the mysterious writer would always post a new email every couple months or so.
They took it for granted. There was a ghostwriter within the mass of people who scrambled out of classrooms as the lunch bell rang. Heck, you might even sit next to him or her one day and not realize s/he was the one that wrote seven of your essays and let you pass your honors classes.
No one knew who started the rumor that there was someone who would write for you, or how the price automatically was set at five dollars per page written. To preserve this luxury, no one let it slip to the teachers yet. But everyone was curious, and when the teachers' ears were turned away, they would discuss it. Who was the mysterious writer that would be willing to do all that work? Eyes scanned classrooms and people came up with suspects with absurd reasons. Top students and poor students were those eyed the most, but no one could prove anything.
Meanwhile, said person marveled at the buzz. Surely by now every student had either snapped a picture of the email with their phones or had a slip of paper in their pocket with the address on it. If a friend missed it, they could always ask someone else. He smiled a bit, since being unknown was the closest he would ever get to being known. Ha. The boy laid his head on his desk and gave a sigh as no one even bothered to consider him the ghostwriter.
It was such a cold word, yet he loved the way it rolled out people's tongues. Even though no one could see him, and even if he was never going to get credit for those countless papers he wrote, he was satisfied being a ghost whom no one would care about. Sometimes he thought of himself somewhat like a ghost that cleaned your kitchen but stole a few pancakes and some maple syrup from your fridge. You wouldn't mind, at least you spared yourself the work.
He didn't even do it for money, just a twisted sense of finally being recognized. It was just something he wanted to try, by whispering in someone's ear and slipping a paper into their pocket. Sure enough, he had gotten a request from that very student and he charged five per page for a six page essay. Apparently that student somehow told his friends, and he had a few more offers for the same essay. Thoughtfully, he requested each one of them for a sample of their writing to not make it look suspicious. The boy was always good at mimicking people. He also learned to love writing, and could crank out a few pages in just an hour. It was especially easy if they were from classes he was already in.
And though inside, he was itching to kidnap someone, show him or her the countless emails he'd gotten in the four emails he'd used for accepting commissions, and prove he was the ghostwriter and have everyone recognize him, a little part of his soul wanted to keep this a secret. No, he didn't even tell his idiot twin brother who he was. The idiot brother in question never suspected him for always working, since he was the studious type anyway.
Well, who was he? Had he been asked, maybe he would have replied he was the ghostwriter, since he'd always wanted to be seen. Yet no one even bothered, and partially as his revenge on the world, he would stay hidden and drive their curiosity. No one would even care who he was, and grim as the thought was, he smiled at it.
Though he'd probably lose his nerve at the last second and simply reply with his actual identity. Then, well, who was he? He was Matthew Williams. Part of the freshman hockey team, and a bloody good player at that. Twin brother of football star Alfred F. Jones, who always stole the spotlight though Matthew could never blame him. Friends with the scariest freshman in their year, the Russian boy Ivan Braginski. Honor student who took pretty much all advanced courses except history (he hated how it was all American history and the little Canadian history there was depicted them as the bad guys). And finally, cousin of the perverted Francis Bonnefoy from the Bad Touch Trio (they were sophomores).
He would never be proud to admit he was related to Francis. Even though Alfred ticked him off, he would say he was proud to be Alfred's twin (when he wasn't being mistaken for him or getting annoyed by him). However, no matter how nice Francis was to him sometimes and how he would soothingly speak French to comfort him, he would never publicly claim he was related to Francis. That was something a lunatic would do, and even Alfred who lives off of attention did not have the nerve to say he was related to Bonnefoy.
If you looked throughout the school for people he hasn't flirted with or groped, you'd find about a small handful. Francis swung both ways, and didn't care about gender. He would go after anything that moved. He even had the nerve to grope seniors and Ivan (though that was only once since both he and his sister had given him a terrible memory). He hadn't groped Lilli Zwingli yet since her brother Vash had an air gun that he managed to take out at any time (though he surprisingly managed to sneak a grope on the brother himself without getting hurt). He also hadn't groped the Hungarian student Elizaveta yet, since he never saw the frying pan coming every time he tried to. He actually groped Matthew on a regular basis unless he wasn't feeling well, then Francis would actually refrain from any harassment and be genuinely worried.
If someone found out you were related to Francis Bonnefoy and let it spread, most likely you would either be barraged by dating requests (because he was oh so romantic) or be labeled kill-on-sight (the girlfriends and boyfriends he had stolen and dumped). Neither option seemed attractive to him.
On the subject of Francis, he had barged into the Jones's house and kidnapped Matthew. Meanwhile he sneaked a grope as Alfred simply stared at the TV screen playing video games. Despite his twin's protests, he merely mumbled a "have fun Mattie" before twiddling with the game controls.
"Mon dieu! Francis, what the hell are you doing?" he gasped out as his cousin carried him potato sack style with his hands dangerously close to his crotch.
Despite his feminine appearance (minus the stubble), Francis was quite strong and Matthew wasn't feeling up to using his hockey skills to pry out of his grasp. "Mathieu, Gilly needs a favor and I think you are best. You did not find a girlfriend yet, non?"
He groaned and replied yes. Gilbert Beilschmidt was one of the Bad Touch Trio as they were dubbed. (The last member was a carefree Spaniard named Antonio.) The girls actually loved them a lot since all three of them were extremely good-looking. One tiny problem was they all three of them were non-committal to relationships and flirted around all the time. Not to mention all three of them swung both ways (there are so many homosexual relationships in this messed up academy that no one really cares anymore). Matthew had a really bad feeling where this was going.
As Francis kicked down the door of an unfamiliar house and took Matthew with him inside, both saw Gilbert lounging on a sofa eating donuts and Antonio munching on churros while hugging some Italian who used a very long string of curse words with a red face. Immediately Matthew saw the honey colored eyes and figured out it was Lovino Vargas, famed for his foul mouth.
"Francis, who's that?" Antonio cheerfully asked when he saw Matthew slung over the Frenchman's shoulder.
"Mon petit Mathieu. He is my cuter cousin," he proudly stated as he set the Canadian down gently on the floor.
With his mouth still full of sweet cream and bread, Gilbert mumbled something undecipherable. "Potato bastard, we can't understand," a certain irritable Italian remarked.
After waiting around five seconds for the German (Prussian, he says) to swallow the stuff in his mouth, they got a clear statement. "Franny, so this is the guy you picked out?"
"Oui, treat him well with lots of amour!" he happily said as he tossed his hair.
"Eh… can I ask what you guys want?" he whispered, almost inaudible.
Francis felt up to explaining, so Gilbert continued stuffing down donuts as Antonio and Lovino stopped paying attention to have yet another scuffle. "Ah, Gilbert here needs l'amour, since his papa got tired of him playing around and having a new person over every day. But he can't get a girl, because she will be hurt easily but Gil here is probably the straightest of us (at this, Antonio smiled and hugged Lovino as the Italian swore some more) and so he wanted a cute boy. Mathieu, you can take care of any jealous past boyfriends of his, non?"
In utter shock, he merely let his jaw drop.
Gilbert helpfully added, "Vögelchen, it's nothing much, just follow my awesomeness around school and near my bruder so he can report to vater."
"B-but I've, n-never been in a relationship b-before!" the hapless boy stuttered.
"Mein gott, it's fake, and just for a month," the Prussian said as he rolled his eyes.
"C-can I refuse?" he asked hopefully.
"Non!" his cousin happily exclaimed with a glint in his eyes. "Unless Mathieu wants to learn about l'amour again?"
He widened his eyes in fear, and Antonio and Lovino's interjections of "How naughty Franny!" and "Stop molesting your cousin, wine bastard," did not help his situation at all.
"Non… eh… f-fine I uh… MERDE!" he screamed.
Francis stopped in his tracks. "Mathieu… did you just yell?" he asked incredulously.
Lovino stared at the Canadian blankly for a second. "Hey, I remember you now. You're that burger bastard's brother right? The really quiet one I almost killed once."
Matthew remembered that incident and winced. "Yeah…"
The Italian's face was sheepish as he replied, "Oops. Sorry, your brother is a bastard…" His voice trailed off and he blushed a little.
Antonio hugged him tighter and squealed, "Lovi is cute~"
"CHIIIIGIIIII!" a very flustered Italian screamed as he flailed, and once again the Canadian was forgotten.
Trying to ignore the scene in front of him, he merely muttered, "No problem, eh, always happens." He did not notice the red eyes staring into his only a few inches away until the albino snapped in his ear. He jumped and almost fell backwards.
"Kesese, you got a jumpy kid. Oh well, this kid is cute," he said as he laughed in Francis's direction. Turning his head to face the Canadian who was now trying his best to look away, he said, "Hey, you should totally acknowledge the awesomeness in front of you!"
Matthew blinked a couple times and replied with something not quite smart to do: "Acknowledge is in your vocabulary?" Mentally he slapped himself, since he probably got the other mad by now and currently he planned his best escape route. He did not expect the boy to laugh.
"Kesesese! This kid's great, Francis. Maybe I might keep him for two months!" he sniggered.
In mock horror the French boy replied, "Mon dieu! Mathieu might die in your hands!"
Lovino snorted and said, "As if you're one to comment, wine bastard."
Antonio lightly tapped his head and said, "Lovi, don't insult my friends!"
"Okay! My awesomeness has declared Mattie Jones to be my official not-boyfriend!"
"…my surname isn't Jones, eh," he murmured.
Surprised, the albino turned to him. "Isn't your brother Alfred F. Jones? The really big jerk on the football team?" All of them, even the clueless Spaniard, knew the "don't worry, you're better than him" went unspoken.
"…family is complicated. I'm Matthew Williams."
"Mattie Williams… Vögelchen! Yay, now you have an awesome nickname too!" Gilbert grinned while Francis and Antonio cheered as Lovino grumpily clapped a bit to please the Spaniard.
"What does Vögelchen mean anyway?" he asked, not even bothering to try to pry himself from his messed up fate.
As if the grin couldn't grow any wider, the Prussian yelled, "Birdie! You have fluffy yellow hair, just like Gilbird!"
At this Francis widened his eyes in horror. "Merde! La Prusse, keep that bird away from me!"
"Hey, you knew me all these years and you still dare insult my awesome pet?" the albino pouted and Matthew admitted in some dark corner of his mind that it was a tiny bit cute. As if on cue, a yellow furba—uh, featherball flew from nowhere and slammed into Francis. The little canary was pecking madly at his beloved hair, and he was screaming.
Matthew thought the sight was so funny he giggled, and did not remember his predicament until all chaos was settled and Antonio and Lovino long gone to do whatever it was that they did.
"Scheiße, that sounded so girly. Maybe I can convince vater I'm straight if you dress up in drag," he airily said. "Not that he cares much about how I awesomely swing anymore, since my awesomeness was too much to go up against!"
While still distressed that he had to pretend to go out with this strange boy unless he wanted to be mind scarred for life by Francis, Matthew still managed to croak out a sarcastic remark. Maybe hanging around Arthur for so long paid off. "Don't you mean annoyed the crap out of your family that he didn't want to put up with you and practically has no standards for you to reach anymore?"
The Frenchman was cracking up, and while he was distressed that Matthew had been "corrupted" by the vile Englishman, he thought the fake wounded face that Gilbert put up was worth it. Matthew needed to go out more, he thought. Why not let the cute Canadian help Gilbert out of his recent shell while at it? And as a bonus, there will be l'amour~
It was a good idea to ask Elizaveta to ask Feliciano mention Gilbert's constant flings to Ludwig. The Hungarian was delighted with his plan for once, and Francis was glad he was on her side in this at least. Or at least not on the receiving end of her frying pan.
After Matthew had gone home and mulled over the latest developments, he noticed the multitude of emails in his inbox.
Oh crap, he thought. Quickly opening a new document, he set off onto writing some essays. At least the procrastinating students had the decency to all send in the exact same assignment. Sometimes Matthew thought they just sent them all together on the last day he would accept them. Oh well, at least he had three days to type furiously and finish the ten or so commissions.
Meanwhile, back at Gilbert's house, Francis was standing by watching the German stare at the ceiling while lazing on the couch. Somewhere Gilbird was flying in circles, keeping a good distance away from the Frenchman. The hate was mutual at least, and Francis glared at the bird every once in a while.
"Francis…" Gilbert spoke up and snapped Francis out of his (non-perverted for once) thoughts of how to cook a chicken.
"Oui, la Prusse?" he hesitantly replied.
"You didn't have to lie and tell the boy it was because I was scared a girl might get beat up. No one really will kill the awesomeness's date anyway," he stated.
Francis gave him a grave look. "Gilly, you shouldn't dwell on your past. Nor Lizzy, oui?"
The albino sighed, "Maybe, Franny, maybe."
Francis's somewhat high spirits earlier plummeted at the sight of his friend so depressed. Trying to think of a way to cheer him up, he carefully picked his words. "Mon dieu, I forgot I was going to have a session of l'amour with Arthur at the bar tomorrow. Does la Prusse want to come and bring Mathieu for a couple of friendly drinks?"
His ears perked up at the mention of beer and he nodded. Feeling slightly accomplished, Francis tried to think of a way to kidnap both Arthur and Matthew in the least possible amount of time without Alfred noticing. He didn't see Gilbird slam into his head and knock him out cold. Chuckling quietly to himself, Gilbert patted his unconscious friend's head and said, "Ha, had that coming, right Gilbird the Great?" The chick tweeted and hopped onto his head. "But thanks, Franny. You saved the awesomeness's pants today, kesese," he added as an afterthought.
When Gilbird finally turned away, the Frenchman muttered under his breath into the carpet, "Oui, yet you sic that bird on me? Ungrateful friend you are."
A/N: Ahaha… I should really keep to one fiction and not write about ten ideas down. At least this one made it into one chapter and not just a five hundred word segment that I quit writing.
Mon dieu- My god!
Mon petit- My little
Mein gott- my god
la Prusse- Prussia
In my head alternate universe, France calls Gilbert Prussia (la Prusse) sometimes. I just wanted to do it since it sounded cool. Also, everyone has ridiculous pet names for each other (Gilly, Franny, and Toni). Gilbird and Francis have a long-standing rivalry for some reason. PayFriend = ripoff of PayPal, and the email at the top is just something I made up. -_-
Anyway, this might be confusing, so I'll post a recap.
Matthew Williams is working as a ghostwriter. Francis kidnaps him and forces him to pretend to date Gilbert to convince his family that he's in a committed relationship and not a random fling. (Francis also has a secret motive for trying to hook them up.) As Matthew finally relents despite his reluctance, Gilbert asks Francis why he lied to Matthew about wanted a boyfriend, and Francis tells him to forget about the past. Which somehow involves the Hungarian girl…?
Ooh… foreshadowing… well, flashbacks. Since it was in the past.
Next chapter spoilers: Matthew and Arthur are kidnapped, while the Italian brothers and Ludwig are dragged along to the bar as well. But a few people who nobody expected to see accidentally bump into the odd group at the bar. Chaos ensues.
P.S. I intend on making a villain. It will not be Russia. I think he is misunderstood. I haven't decided specifically yet, so no more spoilers besides this one. And I seriously hope I didn't screw up any of this yet. xD Review for maple syrup and new chapters!