[APH fanfiction] The First Law of Love and War (Chapter 4)
Title: The First Law of Love and War
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Pairings: Eventually Gilbert/Roderich/Elizaveta, Ludwig/Feliciano, Feliks/Liet, Francis/Arthur and Antonio/Lovino
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Swearing, innuendos, college shenanigans, and Gilbert. Really, he's just a warning by himself.
Summary: Roderich has never really had much interest in dating. He was happy enough just writing and playing music, and never had time for much else. Then he went to college. Suddenly he's stepped into an entirely new world, and isn't really sure what to do about it...
Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3
Notes: I'm so sorry this took so long guys, but real life tried to eat my face. Believe me, I have no intention at all of abandoning this fic. :)
Oh Roderich, I'm so sorry, but you're so fun to torture. ♥
~*~
The next few weeks were a blur as Roderich began to settle into the routine of classes. Somewhat to his relief, he and Francis actually spent very little time in their room together. Francis seemed to return only long enough to switch books and grab a fresh change of clothes every day or so. Roderich decided he didn't particularly want to know where he was spending his nights, and Francis never offered to tell.
One day, about three weeks into the semester, Roderich was at his desk struggling his way though his calculus homework when there was a knock on the door. He got up with a sigh, opening the door to reveal a boy about his own age with curly brown hair and warm brown eyes. "Hey," he lifted a hand in greeting, smiling at Roderich. "Is Francis here?"
"Ah, no," Roderich smiled apologetically. "I haven't seen him since last night."
"Damn," the other rubbed at his chin thoughtfully. "He forgot one of his books in my room, and I don't have time to track him down, I've got class in fifteen minutes."
"He's probably over at the art building," Roderich offered. "I think he spends a lot of his free time working over there. I can take it to him if you want."
The stranger's eyes lit up. "You wouldn't mind?"
Roderich shook his head. "I don't have anything else to do right now." He spared a baleful thought for his homework as the other boy opened up his shoulder bag and pulled out what Roderich recognized as one of Francis's French textbooks.
"Thanks a ton," the other boy smiled again, handing over the book and clapping Roderich on the shoulder, making him twitch at the contact. "Francis said you were a good guy, looks like he was right!"
"Um, thanks," I think, he added mentally, a little off balance from this boy's forward manner. It reminded him a little of the twins, actually. Lovino's 'in your face' attitude combined with Feli's intimate affection.
"I better get going," he said, drawing Roderich's attention to him again. "Tell Frannie I said hi!"
...Frannie? "Oh wait, what's your name?" He couldn't very well tell Francis who had returned his book without knowing, could he?
"Oh right!" Another wide grin. "I'm Antonio Fernandez, nice to meet you!"
"Nice to meet you too," Roderich glanced at the clock. "Aren't you going to be late?"
"Oh yeah!" Antonio grinned and waved before sprinting off down the hall, leaving Roderich in the dust.
He shook his head, stepping back into the room to turn off his desk light and grab a bag to put the book in. What sort of friends was Francis making, anyway?
He'd passed the art building a few times between classes, so at least he knew where it was, even though he'd never been in it. He went inside and started looking around for Francis, quickly becoming lost in the maze of hallways and workshops. He turned a corner and paused as he heard a sort of ringing sound coming from further down the hall. He brightened and started that way, figuring that even if it wasn't Francis he could at least ask if anyone had seen him.
The door to the studio where the noise was coming from was closed, and Roderich peered through the window in the door. He froze with his hand on the doorknob, eyes widening a bit.
The studio was mostly one large open area, the floor plain cement and the walls covered with racks of tools. Several large objects draped in sheets lined the edges of the room. One was in the center, and uncovered to reveal that it was a rather large stone statue of... something. It was hard to tell, since it was only half finished. The ringing sound was coming from the fact that the artist was using a hammer and chisel to shape the piece. An artist with long brown hair tied back under a bandanna, who looked familiar. When she circled the piece to get a better angle to work from, Roderich realized that it was Elizaveta, the girl from the cafe.
He pressed a little closer to the door without realizing it, Francis's book forgotten as he watched her work. She had a very cute, determined look on her face as she bent over the piece, trying to shape a part that was hard to reach. She circled it again, eyeing it from all sides, then bent over again. Roderich's cheeks flamed bright red as he was suddenly presented with a very nice view of her ass.
"Like, hello."
Roderich bit back a rather unmanly squawk, whirling around to put his back to the door as someone spoke up from about a foot behind him. He hadn't even heard footsteps! He tried to will the blush from his cheeks and his heart back into a normal rhythm.
The girl who'd startled him put her hands on her hips, staring at him coolly and clearly unimpressed. She was a lot shorter than Roderich, with short blond hair and an even shorter miniskirt worn with criminally tall boots. "Like, that's Eliza's workroom. What do you want?"
Before Roderich could think up a suitable answer, he was sent flailing backward again as the door he was leaning against gave way. He ended up on the floor, blinking up at Elizaveta.
"Oh!" She blinked in surprise, looking down at Roderich, then over him at the other girl. "I didn't know you two knew each other!" She smiled brightly, sending Roderich's cheeks flaming again as he tried to scramble back to his feet as coolly as he could.
"We don't," the other girl crossed her arms, leaning back against the opposite wall. "Like, I totally caught him spying on you."
"I wasn't!" Roderich protested. "I was looking for my roommate, actually."
"Uh huh, because he's totally in there with Eliza," she flipped her hair, stepping past Roderich to take Elizaveta's arm. "Come on, I totally promised Liet I'd drag you away from this nasty workroom long enough for dinner."
She laughed, slipping out of her friend's grip. "Okay, just let me put my tools away, Feliks. I do share this workspace, you know."
"Yeah, yeah," Feliks turned away and raised an eyebrow at Roderich. "Like, do I have something in my hair?"
Roderich shook himself and swallowed, realizing he'd been staring. "Uh. Feliks?" he finally blurted out.
Her (?) cheeks went pink, and she scowled at Roderich, putting her hands on her hips. "Now look, just because I happen to have a penis-"
"Feliks!" Elizaveta appeared in the doorway again, putting her hand on Feliks's arm. "He didn't know." She smiled at Roderich apologetically. "Let's go. What's Toris making for dinner?"
Feliks let herself be dragged away but shot a glare back over her shoulder at Roderich, who was left standing bewildered wondering what the hell had just happened.
Further down the hall, Francis stuck his head out of another studio in response to all the commotion, his head turning to watch the two (one and a half?) women walk past, his eyes lingering on their backs and legs. It was only after they'd turned the corner out of sight that his gaze swiveled back to Roderich and he raised an eyebrow.
Roderich barely refrained from throwing his book at his head.
~*~
Francis was bored.
His literature class was set to start at four-thirty, but the class had learned that Professor Kirkland never showed up before four-forty. Four o'clock was tea time after all, and the poor man was so British you could probably chop him up and bake him into scones. Inedible ones.
Francis had taken it upon himself, the past few weeks, to make Professor Kirkland's life more interesting. The man was young for a professor, after all, just out of school himself. He needed to have more fun in life besides grading dissertations. Francis knew, in his own humble opinion, that he could spice up Professor Kirkland's life nicely. And if he went crazy in the process, well, that would be one less Briton in the world.
Currently he was sitting in his seat toward the side of the room, waiting for the professor to show up. The man was the most entertaining thing in Francis's life at the moment, besides teasing Gilbert. Gilbert gave as good as he got, though. Professor Kirkland just sputtered a lot.
He glanced at the clock, then smirked as Professor Kirkland walked in, shrugging out of that horribly British tweed coat as he crossed toward his desk, already talking.
"Okay class, we're running short on time today, so if you'd all go ahead and take out your books..."
Francis kept the bored look on his face through sheer force of will, leaning down to rummage in his bag while discretely keeping an eye on the professor. This had better be worth it, he'd had to bribe the professor who had this room the hour before to cancel her class so that he'd be able to get to the desk without anyone else around.
Kirkland strode up onto the teacher's dais, tossing his coat over the back of his chair and thumping his beat up leather bag onto the top of the desk. He reached inside it to pull out his books then - Francis bit down on a grin - opened the desk drawer to retrieve some arbitrary office supply.
Kirkland shrieked, jumping back practically off the dais. After an instant his shocked look transformed into a scowl as he glared out at the class. Most of them were clearly clueless and confused, but it didn't matter. Francis couldn't hold it in anymore and he burst out into laughter, barely registering as Kirkland dismissed the rest of the class and the confused students trickled out, leaving Francis behind. He was laughing so hard he was practically sobbing, and every time he looked at Kirkland's scowling face, with those gigantic eyebrows knit together like one large woolly caterpillar he started off into fresh gales of laughter.
Seeing that his tormentor wasn't even trying to escape, Kirkland stormed back over to the desk to slam the drawer shut, then returned to glare down at Francis, hands practically twitching with the urge to throttle him. "Snails, Bonnefoy?"
Francis waved a finger in his face, wiping tears of mirth off his cheeks. "Escargot, mon ami. The very best in French dining!"
Kirkland grit his teeth, then slammed his hands down on Francis's desk, making him jump in startlement. "Look, Bonnefoy," he grit out, leaning close to the younger man. "I could expel you for that, if I brought it to the attention of the dean. I don't care if you don't like me. I don't much care for you either. Fine. Drop my class, if that's the case. But there are other students here besides you, and maybe they're taking this class because they want to. Don't fuck with my classtime again, got it?"
He shoved away from Francis, turning away to storm over and snatch up his coat and bag again, leaving a stunned Francis already plotting his next move.
Next
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Pairings: Eventually Gilbert/Roderich/Elizaveta, Ludwig/Feliciano, Feliks/Liet, Francis/Arthur and Antonio/Lovino
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Swearing, innuendos, college shenanigans, and Gilbert. Really, he's just a warning by himself.
Summary: Roderich has never really had much interest in dating. He was happy enough just writing and playing music, and never had time for much else. Then he went to college. Suddenly he's stepped into an entirely new world, and isn't really sure what to do about it...
Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3
Notes: I'm so sorry this took so long guys, but real life tried to eat my face. Believe me, I have no intention at all of abandoning this fic. :)
Oh Roderich, I'm so sorry, but you're so fun to torture. ♥
~*~
The next few weeks were a blur as Roderich began to settle into the routine of classes. Somewhat to his relief, he and Francis actually spent very little time in their room together. Francis seemed to return only long enough to switch books and grab a fresh change of clothes every day or so. Roderich decided he didn't particularly want to know where he was spending his nights, and Francis never offered to tell.
One day, about three weeks into the semester, Roderich was at his desk struggling his way though his calculus homework when there was a knock on the door. He got up with a sigh, opening the door to reveal a boy about his own age with curly brown hair and warm brown eyes. "Hey," he lifted a hand in greeting, smiling at Roderich. "Is Francis here?"
"Ah, no," Roderich smiled apologetically. "I haven't seen him since last night."
"Damn," the other rubbed at his chin thoughtfully. "He forgot one of his books in my room, and I don't have time to track him down, I've got class in fifteen minutes."
"He's probably over at the art building," Roderich offered. "I think he spends a lot of his free time working over there. I can take it to him if you want."
The stranger's eyes lit up. "You wouldn't mind?"
Roderich shook his head. "I don't have anything else to do right now." He spared a baleful thought for his homework as the other boy opened up his shoulder bag and pulled out what Roderich recognized as one of Francis's French textbooks.
"Thanks a ton," the other boy smiled again, handing over the book and clapping Roderich on the shoulder, making him twitch at the contact. "Francis said you were a good guy, looks like he was right!"
"Um, thanks," I think, he added mentally, a little off balance from this boy's forward manner. It reminded him a little of the twins, actually. Lovino's 'in your face' attitude combined with Feli's intimate affection.
"I better get going," he said, drawing Roderich's attention to him again. "Tell Frannie I said hi!"
...Frannie? "Oh wait, what's your name?" He couldn't very well tell Francis who had returned his book without knowing, could he?
"Oh right!" Another wide grin. "I'm Antonio Fernandez, nice to meet you!"
"Nice to meet you too," Roderich glanced at the clock. "Aren't you going to be late?"
"Oh yeah!" Antonio grinned and waved before sprinting off down the hall, leaving Roderich in the dust.
He shook his head, stepping back into the room to turn off his desk light and grab a bag to put the book in. What sort of friends was Francis making, anyway?
He'd passed the art building a few times between classes, so at least he knew where it was, even though he'd never been in it. He went inside and started looking around for Francis, quickly becoming lost in the maze of hallways and workshops. He turned a corner and paused as he heard a sort of ringing sound coming from further down the hall. He brightened and started that way, figuring that even if it wasn't Francis he could at least ask if anyone had seen him.
The door to the studio where the noise was coming from was closed, and Roderich peered through the window in the door. He froze with his hand on the doorknob, eyes widening a bit.
The studio was mostly one large open area, the floor plain cement and the walls covered with racks of tools. Several large objects draped in sheets lined the edges of the room. One was in the center, and uncovered to reveal that it was a rather large stone statue of... something. It was hard to tell, since it was only half finished. The ringing sound was coming from the fact that the artist was using a hammer and chisel to shape the piece. An artist with long brown hair tied back under a bandanna, who looked familiar. When she circled the piece to get a better angle to work from, Roderich realized that it was Elizaveta, the girl from the cafe.
He pressed a little closer to the door without realizing it, Francis's book forgotten as he watched her work. She had a very cute, determined look on her face as she bent over the piece, trying to shape a part that was hard to reach. She circled it again, eyeing it from all sides, then bent over again. Roderich's cheeks flamed bright red as he was suddenly presented with a very nice view of her ass.
"Like, hello."
Roderich bit back a rather unmanly squawk, whirling around to put his back to the door as someone spoke up from about a foot behind him. He hadn't even heard footsteps! He tried to will the blush from his cheeks and his heart back into a normal rhythm.
The girl who'd startled him put her hands on her hips, staring at him coolly and clearly unimpressed. She was a lot shorter than Roderich, with short blond hair and an even shorter miniskirt worn with criminally tall boots. "Like, that's Eliza's workroom. What do you want?"
Before Roderich could think up a suitable answer, he was sent flailing backward again as the door he was leaning against gave way. He ended up on the floor, blinking up at Elizaveta.
"Oh!" She blinked in surprise, looking down at Roderich, then over him at the other girl. "I didn't know you two knew each other!" She smiled brightly, sending Roderich's cheeks flaming again as he tried to scramble back to his feet as coolly as he could.
"We don't," the other girl crossed her arms, leaning back against the opposite wall. "Like, I totally caught him spying on you."
"I wasn't!" Roderich protested. "I was looking for my roommate, actually."
"Uh huh, because he's totally in there with Eliza," she flipped her hair, stepping past Roderich to take Elizaveta's arm. "Come on, I totally promised Liet I'd drag you away from this nasty workroom long enough for dinner."
She laughed, slipping out of her friend's grip. "Okay, just let me put my tools away, Feliks. I do share this workspace, you know."
"Yeah, yeah," Feliks turned away and raised an eyebrow at Roderich. "Like, do I have something in my hair?"
Roderich shook himself and swallowed, realizing he'd been staring. "Uh. Feliks?" he finally blurted out.
Her (?) cheeks went pink, and she scowled at Roderich, putting her hands on her hips. "Now look, just because I happen to have a penis-"
"Feliks!" Elizaveta appeared in the doorway again, putting her hand on Feliks's arm. "He didn't know." She smiled at Roderich apologetically. "Let's go. What's Toris making for dinner?"
Feliks let herself be dragged away but shot a glare back over her shoulder at Roderich, who was left standing bewildered wondering what the hell had just happened.
Further down the hall, Francis stuck his head out of another studio in response to all the commotion, his head turning to watch the two (one and a half?) women walk past, his eyes lingering on their backs and legs. It was only after they'd turned the corner out of sight that his gaze swiveled back to Roderich and he raised an eyebrow.
Roderich barely refrained from throwing his book at his head.
~*~
Francis was bored.
His literature class was set to start at four-thirty, but the class had learned that Professor Kirkland never showed up before four-forty. Four o'clock was tea time after all, and the poor man was so British you could probably chop him up and bake him into scones. Inedible ones.
Francis had taken it upon himself, the past few weeks, to make Professor Kirkland's life more interesting. The man was young for a professor, after all, just out of school himself. He needed to have more fun in life besides grading dissertations. Francis knew, in his own humble opinion, that he could spice up Professor Kirkland's life nicely. And if he went crazy in the process, well, that would be one less Briton in the world.
Currently he was sitting in his seat toward the side of the room, waiting for the professor to show up. The man was the most entertaining thing in Francis's life at the moment, besides teasing Gilbert. Gilbert gave as good as he got, though. Professor Kirkland just sputtered a lot.
He glanced at the clock, then smirked as Professor Kirkland walked in, shrugging out of that horribly British tweed coat as he crossed toward his desk, already talking.
"Okay class, we're running short on time today, so if you'd all go ahead and take out your books..."
Francis kept the bored look on his face through sheer force of will, leaning down to rummage in his bag while discretely keeping an eye on the professor. This had better be worth it, he'd had to bribe the professor who had this room the hour before to cancel her class so that he'd be able to get to the desk without anyone else around.
Kirkland strode up onto the teacher's dais, tossing his coat over the back of his chair and thumping his beat up leather bag onto the top of the desk. He reached inside it to pull out his books then - Francis bit down on a grin - opened the desk drawer to retrieve some arbitrary office supply.
Kirkland shrieked, jumping back practically off the dais. After an instant his shocked look transformed into a scowl as he glared out at the class. Most of them were clearly clueless and confused, but it didn't matter. Francis couldn't hold it in anymore and he burst out into laughter, barely registering as Kirkland dismissed the rest of the class and the confused students trickled out, leaving Francis behind. He was laughing so hard he was practically sobbing, and every time he looked at Kirkland's scowling face, with those gigantic eyebrows knit together like one large woolly caterpillar he started off into fresh gales of laughter.
Seeing that his tormentor wasn't even trying to escape, Kirkland stormed back over to the desk to slam the drawer shut, then returned to glare down at Francis, hands practically twitching with the urge to throttle him. "Snails, Bonnefoy?"
Francis waved a finger in his face, wiping tears of mirth off his cheeks. "Escargot, mon ami. The very best in French dining!"
Kirkland grit his teeth, then slammed his hands down on Francis's desk, making him jump in startlement. "Look, Bonnefoy," he grit out, leaning close to the younger man. "I could expel you for that, if I brought it to the attention of the dean. I don't care if you don't like me. I don't much care for you either. Fine. Drop my class, if that's the case. But there are other students here besides you, and maybe they're taking this class because they want to. Don't fuck with my classtime again, got it?"
He shoved away from Francis, turning away to storm over and snatch up his coat and bag again, leaving a stunned Francis already plotting his next move.
Next