APH PruCan Gakuen Hetalia 1
Some asshole was poking me in my back with their asshole finger.
Said asshole sounded very much like my twin brother but it couldn't be him. He had moved out of our shared dorm room to live with his boyfriend Arthur elsewhere on the World Academy campus. That and it would be very stupid thing for him to do on his part because Alfred, who was supposed to be a super genius on an unparallel level, knew very much what would happen if he awoke me in such a rude, insistent manner.
"C'mon Canuck! Wake the fuck up!"
Did I say genius? I meant Soon To Be Castrated Fuckstain, which was a real shame considering I had just finished putting in an intricate mosaic depicting the world on the floor. Blood is so hard to clean out of grout.
Oh, that's attractive. Demands have degraded into whining. I don't know how Arthur puts up with this kind of shit. He probably threatens Alfred with his cooking. My twin could whine for the Olympics and walk away with the gold medal of being a bitchy little princess. I could feel the mattress beginning to lift from the box frame, signaling the mattress flip that Alfred was about to inflict on me and my companion.
I needed to nip this in the butt before bad things happened, namely to other people with the surname of Jones. "I will end you if you even think aboot finishing what you are doing.", I growled, turning over onto my back to glare up at my terminally upbeat genetic double.
"Yay! You're awake!", Alfred flung his hands up into the air. And there you have it ladies and gentleman, my brother. Discoverer of intelligence outside the realms of our universe, galactic ambassador and host to aliens, hacker extraordinaire, master of science, and inventor savant of the weird reacts like a fat kid handed a piece of birthday cake when he gets his way.
"Al…..", I started to say to be so very rudely interrupted.
"Cause I have something super important to ask you!", Alfred ignored me to start his new mission in life which apparently began with annoying the hell out of me.
"Alfred…", I tried again, the very image of brotherly love and patience.
"And it's our anniversary next week and I totally need to get something awesome!", Alfred continued, the poor fool unable to read the worsening atmosphere to save his life.
"ALFRED FUCKING JONES!", I sat up to yell my battle cry, chucking a pillow at Alfred in one smooth action. He didn't even have a chance to duck, the poor inept bastard. The force of the blow sent him reeling back as the goose feather pillow exploded, thanks to my super strength and Alfred's rock hard head.
"What!?", Alfred recovered quickly enough, killing any sort of good will toward him by appearing miffed as he started to pick feathers out of his hair. I put this aggressively into check with another blow from the remaining pillow.
"No! Bad genius! Quit obsessing and open your damn eyes! What part of the obvious are you missing?", I emphasized each word with a bitch smack from my weapon of choice. I beat Alfred without mercy to his knees until he cowered underneath his raised hands. I stopped only when I ran out of breathe, giving Alfred an opportunity to look at and past me.
To sum up my previous evening's activities, I was naked and covered in various dried body fluids. Alfred also finally took notice of the other opponent of my bed, some guy from the Netherlands. Frans? Hans? I don't remember or ever bother to. He was good in the sack and always had excellent weed. Other than having a killer body, there wasn't much there. Fuckbuddy was in the same state of undress and cleanliness although the sheets still covered his sizable assets. He was also very much awake now, and looking at Alfred and I like we were crazy people. Maple, I hate it when they don't have enough sense to leave before I wake up.
"You can go. Don't let us keep you.", I told Mr. Right At The Time, thumbing him toward the door. He glared back at me but got dressed in a hurry with only some minor cursing. I yawned back at him unimpressed, resuming my seat on the bed, reaching under it. I cracked open the bottle of maple syrup I found there, saluting What's-His-Face's back as he slammed the door behind him.
"Who was that? He looked pissed off.", Alfred asked from his spot on the floor still picking feather off of his favorite WWII vintage bomber jacket and digging them out of his honey colored hair.
"How should I know?", I shrugged dismissively, though in retrospect I would have to find another drug dealer now. Oh well…..easy come, easy go.
"Ewww. Slut.", Alfred wrinkled his nose at me. Alfred never had approved of my revolving door bedroom lifestyle. Massive intelligence does not prevent him from being a prude, the pathetic one love romantic he is.
"Sit on it and rotate. Just because you're inflicted with monogamy doesn't mean rest of us have to catch it.", I said good naturedly as I flipped him the bird, taking a long pull from the leaf shaped bottle of the sweet stuff. Strange breakfast I know, but it's a side effect from an experiment from when Alfred decided to play mad scientist and dabble in genetics. He dosed himself with weight loss serum(because he used to be a total preteen fatass) that left him with the metabolism of a hummingbird, hyper sensitivity to cold, a permanent tan, and super strength. Alfred then made a second 'new and improved' version of it and nominated me to try it due to our genetic compatibility. Ending result is that it worked to an extent. I have a body that could walk down the runways and grace any fashion spread, all lean muscles and svelte lines with no effort on my part whatsoever. Side effects though include never being able to tan again, an extreme resistance to cold, and a life long dependency on maple syrup. The serum also changed our eyes to all sorts of weirdness. My eyes now shift like an aurora borealis and allow me to see the energy fields around people and other living objects. If you want to get all New Age aboot it, you can call them auras.
"Whatever. Be useful and just help me already!", Alfred went back to whining about his love life, not my favorite topic of conversation. Alfred and Arthur was disgustingly cute together, the yin to each others yang. If I thought too long and hard aboot it, their 'wonderful meant for each other till death do them part' relationship(as odd and twisted as it was involving obsession and deportation) left me with a icky feeling of longing for one of my own.
Am I a little bitter? Hell no. Try a lot bitter. My heart and my naive perceptions of love were ruined by an ex lover of mine, a Cuban artist named Carlos. We truly loved each other or at least I thought we did until I found out that Carlos was also loving many others behind my back. At the risk of sounding melodramatic, my patience and understanding became a brittle things and my view on this silly thing called love jaded and ruined beyond repair. I never took a lover now I planned on keeping past dawn. It was just easier that way.
I rolled my eyes at my foul memories and my fluttering jealousy over Alfred's storybook relationship, finishing off the syrup. I tumbled myself back into bed to cover my head with a pillow. I didn't want to talk aboot this anyway, wanted to kill lingering thoughts about love and being beloved with sleep. Alfred was not so easily deterred though.
"C'mon Mattie! Help me! It has to be perfect! It's our first anniversary and I want more of them!", Alfred pouted. I couldn't see it from under my brilliant pillow defense but I could hear the bottom lip poking out, it was so deafening.
"So go buy him an island. You're rich enough.", I sighed, waving Alfred off. He took this as a sign to sit on the bed next to me. I didn't want to think about Alfred and his boyfriend Arthur, an aristocrat from England. Only Alfred could come to New York on business and find the love of his life by accident while on a McDonald's run in Soho of all places. .
"Would you put on some clothing? I am trying to have a serious conversation with you.", Alfred poked at my bare butt cheek. "And I can't, cause what do you get someone after that?". I have a maple leaf tattoo there(don't ask. Long story involving Canadian Club, some beavers, and a lost bet) that has always fascinated him for some reason.
"At what point has this conversation been anywhere near the vicinity of serious?", I grumbled, swatting at his pokeage.
"Don't be hateful, hater. Help your brother whom you love and adore and want to see happy forever and forever with his cute little scone of love.", Alfred told me.
"I am shocked that you used 'whom' correctly. I'll have to send Arthur a fruit basket or something.", I fished around for some sort of clothing finding my boxers surprisingly close.
"Asshole. I'm plenty smart.", Alfred made a face at me as I pulled on my lucky red boxers.
"Hard to tell by your actions this morning, eh.", I yawned. Alfred gave me a hurt expression, resorting to his patented kicked puppy dog look. I conceded to it before the full force of the expression was turned on me. I resorted to the 'throwing something shiny' technique of dealing with Alfred, one that was forever denied to Arthur and his culinary disabilities. "Do you want pancakes?"
"Fuck yeah, I want pancakes.", Alfred broke out into a grin, all slights against his intelligence forgiven. We would all be so fucked if enemies of the state found out aboot Alfred's weakness for baked goods and hamburgers.
So that was how my day began. Nothing special as far as days go. It wasn't the best day of my life or even the worst but it would be the one that would change everything.
The day a boy looked for me.