Hello! I just want to start off by saying this is my first UsUk fic so please be nice.

For those of you who read "Contradicting Beliefs" (300 reviews, baby!)I have a sort of update on some of the people. You know the music teacher? Well, she got fired XD. I visited my middle school and "Mrs. Tori" seemed bitter that I didn't go to a Catholic high school. Whatever.

ANYWAY.

This will NOT be as serious as my last two, hopefully. But I have to have SOME drama for a plot, right? I won't make you cry, don't worry.

OMG I CANNOT WAIT FOR HETALIA SEASON 5! I literally rolled all over my living room floor when I found out. My feels were going everywhere.

Well, enjoy!~


Arthur Kirkland had been hearing about his history teacher since he was in 9th grade. The first he heard of the man was from a few girls in the hallway at his locker. He had a bottom locker for his freshman year, and he resented every single time he went to it. One of the reasons was because he had trouble opening his locker up until his 3rd week of school (he had to carry around his books for every single class until one glorious day the bloody thing decided to cooperate). But most of all, the girl who had the locker above his would always take forever to move out of the way because she was always talking to her friends about mindless nonsense and was totally oblivious to his presence. Some days they talked about boy bands, other days about other students. He despised that girl and yet he barely knew her. He was new to the school like every other 9th grader, so he didn't want to start any trouble with anyone. Especially and upperclassmen. So while waiting for access to his locker one day, the girl said to her friends, "Can you believe how hot he is?"

"Ugh, I know!" one of her friends responded. "It's just not fair!"

"I can listen to him talk all day," another said dreamily.

Arthur rolled his eyes. Probably talking about some wanker in their class.

"I actually like history now!"

Arthur raised his (huge) eyebrow at that. A boy in their history class?

The girls then scurried down the hallway. Arthur just shrugged his shoulders and managed to open his locker.

For days after that, he heard multiple girls going on and on about their history class. After a while he got so damn curious he asked the girl who had the locker above his, "Excuse me, but who are you talking about?"

The girl and her friends smiled at each other. "Mr. Jones," she replied. "He's the 12th grade history teacher."

Arthur almost laughed. "That's who you keep going on about? Your teacher?"

"Yeah," her smile widened. "He's just so gorgeous."

"And charming," another girl added.

"It's pretty sad to be in love with your teacher, isn't it?" Arthur questioned.

The girl frowned and closed her locker. "Just shut your mouth, freshman. You're lucky you're cute." He grimaced at the semi-compliment.

That was another thing he was worried about; his sexuality. From when he was a young child, Arthur knew he felt no attraction to girls. He kept it a secret until he met a French boy named Francis back when he was in middle school.

"Why don't you hook up with one of them?" Francis asked Arthur, referring to a few girls that wouldn't stop staring at him.

"One: they have boyfriends. Two: they're obnoxious. Three: I'm not interested. Four: it's none of your business, Frog!"

"Ohonhon, not interested? They have gorgeous figures! Unless…" he raised an eyebrow and smirked. "You're playing for the other team?"

"No!" he nearly shouted back, eyes prickling with hot tears.

All humor from Francis' face was erased. "Calm down. I was just joking. Are you really…?"

Arthur avoided eye contact and nodded. Francis grinned. "It's fine with me, mon ami. Want me to hook you up with one of my guy friends?"

Arthur hit Francis with his algebra textbook and turned away. Since then, he had been open about his sexuality and, to his surprise, no one really cared. He was expecting to be bullied relentlessly. The most he got was dirty looks from a few guys and a shove here or there. It seemed like people cared even less when he got to high school. It was a public school, so the issue of religion wasn't there. Not only that, but the school had a strict disciplinary system. There was no hesitation to expel someone.

One day into the first few weeks of his freshman year, Arthur hustled to his next class and tripped when someone roughly shoved past him, falling to the floor. He felt his cheeks grow a little warm when people stared at him.

"Woah man, are you okay?" Arthur looked up to see a man holding out his hand to him with vibrant azure eyes. "Don't worry," the man grinned, "I don't bite," he then winked. Arthur blinked a few times and put his hand in the man's to get up (trying to ignore the electric current that shot through his arm when he grabbed his hand and the shock of having a grown man wink at him).

"Thank you," he mumbled, feeling embarrassed for both falling and having an (attractive) adult help him from the floor.

"No problem!" the man responded in a loud voice.

Arthur gave him a nod and quickly walked away to get to his class. That man can't be a teacher, he thought as he sat in his math class, he's way too loud…and he winked at me!

When Arthur reached his locker, the usual girl was standing there, but was pouting this time. "You're so lucky!" she stomped her foot. "I would give anything to have Mr. Jones help me up!"

Arthur's eyes widened. "Wait, he was Mr. Jones?"

"Yeah, why?"

"He bloody winked at me!"

"He did?!" the girl seemed outraged.

"Yes. That's not appropriate for a teacher to do at a student!"

"So? He's hot."

"You need to get your mind checked!"

"Whatever, Eyebrows" the girl rolled her eyes and walked away. Arthur gritted his teeth at the nickname and opened his locker angrily.

That was the most he saw of Mr. Jones for three years. He would see him walking through the hallways, but he would only get a quick glimpse of him before he would enter his room. Arthur got annoyed whenever he would hear girls going on about him.

"They are a bit much, oui?" Francis said to him one day (the Frenchman had gotten into the school as well, and Arthur cursed that fact everyday).

"They're ridiculous," he huffed. "How can they not get on your nerves?"

"They do a little," he agreed "But come on," Francis nudged his shoulder. "Even you have to admit he's very handsome."

Arthur sighed. Sometimes he hated Francis, but sometimes he could tell him personal information. "He's very handsome," he said quietly. "I never denied that. But they're overreacting."

Francis shrugged. "You know, some of his students are actually trying to seduce him. They pull their shirts down a bit to show their breasts."

"Pathetic," Arthur shook his head. "I'd just like to know what's so great about him."


It wasn't until Arthur reached 12th grade that Mr. Jones became his history teacher. On the first day of school, he walked into the classroom with his Francis and his Japanese friend, Kiku, and took one of the only available seats at the front of the classroom. He looked around the classroom to see American flags practically everywhere. There were pictures of every U.S. president and a timeline of the Revolutionary War on the walls. Once everyone was seated, Mr. Jones rose from his desk and smiled.

"Good morning!" he exclaimed, making Arthur and a few others jump. "Welcome to history class. My name is Mr. Jones. I'll be teaching you American history this year." He grabbed a clipboard and pen from his desk and walked to the front of the room, standing in front of Arthur's desk.

"Okay, uhhh, say 'here' when I call your name. Francis Bonnefoy?"

"Here," the blonde responded.

Mr. Jones continued to take role and got to Arthur's name. "Arthur Kirkland?"

"Here," Arthur said.

Mr. Jones looked at him and smiled. "Hey, I remember you! You fell on the floor when you were a freshman and I helped you up!"

Some of the students sniggered and Arthur blushed slightly. "How do you remember that?"

Mr. Jones' grin widened. "No way, you have an accent!" he ignored the question. "Are you a Brit?"

"Yes," he answered quietly, resisting the urge to scold the man for being so rude.

"That's awesome!" He then continued to take role as if he didn't just have an outburst of unprofessionalism. Arthur rolled his eyes and sighed quietly. His eyes wandered while Mr. Jones was talking and he noticed his teacher's outfit. He was wearing a white dress shirt with a tie that had an American flag design and black dress pants. He had dirty blonde hair with some bangs that fell over his forehead and a cowlick. On the outside, Mr. Jones looked like the perfect teacher. But as soon as he opened his mouth, that all went down the toilet. Arthur looked down at his desk and corrected himself when he noticed Mr. Jones' pants were tight fitting.

Mr. Jones put his clipboard back on his desk once he finished. "Alright," he clapped his hands together, "I can already tell this is gonna be an awesome year. My policies are pretty simple. Just do your work and hand in everything on time. That's it. If you're sick and miss class, the day you come back to school come talk to me. We can totally work something out. You can't help being sick, and I know that. But please try to make it to class. If you're late," he suddenly stopped talking to look at the front door, and then lowered his voice, "I don't care if you're late or not. I'm late sometimes, too. But let's just keep this between us." The students looked at each other and smiled, but Arthur was appalled. Tardiness shouldn't be excused so easily!

Mr. Jones looked at his watch. "Huh, we have about thirty-five more minutes together…So I should teach. First person in each row, go to the back of the classroom and give out enough textbooks for your row."

Arthur was one of those people, so he gave out textbooks and sat back down at his desk. Mr. Jones got his teacher's edition of the textbook. "Open up to page 5." He cleared his throat and began, "So basically, the discovery of America started with a dude named Christopher Columbus. Actually, his name has slight variations depending on the language you're speaking. But that's not important right now."

For the rest of the class, Mr. Jones walked up and down the aisles in between the rows of desks while teaching from the textbook. He was overly enthusiastic about every little piece of information, Arthur noted.

As he read, he would stop after reading a definition and say something like, "Man, isn't that cool?!" He would stop in front of a girl's desk every now and then and wink at her. Arthur rolled his eyes at every wink and tried to focus on Mr. Jones' words, not his body language. He was grateful when the bell rang and he got away from his annoying, obnoxious teacher.

"Can you believe that guy?" Arthur asked Kiku bitterly. "He's so unprofessional."

"His teaching style seems to be very…different," Kiku agreed politely. "But it is only the first day. He may change over time."

"Let's hope for the better." Mr. Jones had annoyed Arthur all through that class, but his mind always drifted back to him during his last class, music theory.

Arthur attended a school that focused on music. Acceptance to the school became more difficult as each year passed. Many schools in Arthur's city were Catholic schools, and most of them were closing for mainly financial reasons. So every parent tried to get their child into the school because they knew it would not be closing anytime soon. But acceptance all depended more on a student's musical talent than their grades. Arthur was not only a straight A student, but he was also superb on the guitar. Basically, he was the perfect student. He was accepted into the school with the intention of just doing his work and playing his guitar. But nothing ever goes according to plan. He was also one of the school "favorites". Why the music staff liked him so much, he didn't know. But it got on his nerves sometimes.

After the final bell rang, Arthur put the strap of his guitar case on his shoulder and closed his locker.

"Hey! You play guitar too?" Arthur gasped at Mr. Jones' loud voice and turned around to see him standing right behind him.

"Why does that surprise you?" Arthur tried to keep his tone polite. "This is a music school."

Mr. Jones shrugged. "I don't know. I just think it's cool."

Arthur nodded, and then remembered something Mr. Jones said. "You said 'too'?"

"Yeah. I play guitar. Mainly electric guitar. You?"

"I like electric guitar, but I usually have to play classical music here."

"Ah, right. Well, gotta go do some work. See ya tomorrow!"

"Right, goodbye."

Well, that was random, Arthur thought as he walked home from school. When he finally got into his bedroom, he leaned against the door and sighed.

"Bloody headache," he mumbled and rubbed his forehead. "What a great start to the new school year…."


Alfred F. Jones had been hearing about Arthur Kirkland ever since his first day on the job. In the Teachers' Lounge he heard his colleagues talking about some student with an English accent whose guitar skill was incredible. He only paid half attention to what they were saying and waited for his morning coffee to kick in. He smiled to himself as he felt the caffeine start to energize his being. He loved coffee almost as much as he loved hamburgers. He threw away his empty Styrofoam cup and smiled brightly, ready for his first day on the job.

A few weeks later, Mr. Jones was standing outside of his classroom waiting for his students to arrive. He ran his hand through his hair right when a group of girls walked by. His smile widened a little when he heard quiet squeaks come from them and saw blushes on their faces. He noticed that his female students had been staring at him with glossy eyes and stupid grins ever since the first week of school. He saw how they would whisper things to each other, look at him, and then giggle. It wasn't hard for him to piece things together. He had no attraction to his female students, even though he knew there were a few who tried to capture his eye. For one, they were only teenagers (although he was only in his early twenties). Secondly, some of them were minors, and even the ones who were legal would get him fired. Another reason was something he was having a hard time admitting to himself. It was something that was nipping at the back of his mind that just wouldn't let be.

But anyway, he would try to make his mannerisms slightly more sexual and would always double check his appearance before he left his house. He may not have liked the girls, but he sure loved to tease them and see their reactions. He thought most of their reactions were pretty cute, actually. It was when they would try to flirt with him that things got very awkward.

So while he was waiting for his students, he saw a boy a few feet away with bright blonde hair trip and fall right to the ground. He frowned and strode over to help the student from the floor. "Woah man, are you okay?" he asked. His breath almost hitched in his throat when a pair of emerald eyes met his. They were probably the brightest eyes he had ever seen, he figured. He remembered to keep his cool and said, "Don't worry," he added a grin, "I don't bite." Then, as if by instinct, he winked. Man, this kid's got huge eyebrows! Even after he helped the student up and the day had passed, something about those eyes (and eyebrows) stuck with him for a long while.

He kept hearing about Arthur's guitar skills and heard him play a few times in school events, but never talked to him or really knew what he looked like. So when he saw Arthur's name on his class list, he was mildly curious. When he called Arthur's name he was surprised to see it was the boy he helped from the floor 3 years prior with the bushy eyebrows and green eyes.

"Hey, I remember you!" he said excitedly. "You fell on the floor when you were a freshman and I helped you up!"

"How do you remember that?"

Mr. Jones's grin widened when he heard an accent flavor Arthur's words. "No way, you have an accent! Are you a Brit?"

"Yes," Arthur answered quietly.

That's right, the other teachers said he has an accent, he remembered.

After school he was glad he caught Arthur before he left. For some reason, he felt the need to have a conversation with his student. He pretended to be surprised that Arthur played guitar. He told Arthur about his own guitar skills hoping to spark a real conversation. Wait, I have work….Crap. He reluctantly said goodbye to Arthur and went into his classroom. He leaned against the door and smiled.

"This year is gonna be sweet!"

"Talking to yourself again, Mr. Jones?"

Alfred yelped and frowned he saw the math teacher, Ms. Spears, sitting on a desk in the back of the classroom.

"How many times do I have to tell you to quit that sneaking-up-on-me stuff?"

"I've been sitting here the whole time."

"Yeah, whatever. What do you want?" he took his glasses off and wiped them with his shirt.

"Nothing. Just wondering how your first day went. Sounds like it went well."

He put his glasses back on and sighed. "Yeah, it was fine, Marissa. If you don't mind, I have work to do."

"Since when do you want to do work, Alfred?"

Since you started flirting with me, he thought to himself bitterly. Go away.

"Fine," she didn't wait for a response. "I'll leave."

She hopped off the desk and tried to sway her hips as she left, but just wound up looking an ass. He groaned aloud when his door was shut and banged his head against his chalkboard. "Okay, so maybe this year won't be so cool."


Ladies and gentleman, we've got a desperate hoe on our hands.

UPDATE 12/12/15: Guys, this has been complete for nearly 3 years. I still get alerts saying people are following this, which is flattering, but this has been over, and will remain as is, for years.

Also, I've gotten a little backlash for how I portrayed Ms. Spears in this story. I would have written this differently if I wrote it now, but keep in mind this is just fanfiction, and I was 14. It really isn't that deep. If I piss off anyone with this, I'm sorry, but I'm not going back and re-writing the entire story. And like I said: it's fanfiction.

Thanks to those who go on to the next chapter ;)