Hetalia - On London's Stage [4b/12]
Title: On London’s Stage
Author: faeriesnook
Rating: PG
Summary: AU: Getting lost while on a tour of London was not something that Alfred had planned. Neither was stumbling into a theatre and coming across a paint-splattered Brit reciting Hamlet.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Hetalia in anyway shape or form. I also do not own Hamlet.
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It was fairly odd coming down into the lobby the next day to see Arthur sitting in one of the chairs waiting for him. Originally Alfred had tried to insist they meet someplace else, but Arthur had stubbornly insisted on picking him up at the hotel, something that Alfred had embarrassedly agreed too. He stayed by the elevator for a moment, staring at Arthur, before finally shouting out to the other, shoving his hands in the kangaroo pouch of his sweat shirt. Arthur turned his head at the sound of his name, before rising to his feet and giving a simple wave.
Alfred came to a halt, not being able to help dumbly at Arthur. He was so use to seeing the stage manager in stained, ripped jeans and worn band t-shirts. He was not at all use to seeing the blond in black blacks and a white button down shirt. In all honesty, had it not been for the silver glasses perched over those striking green eyes he would have thought it was someone completely different. Arthur said nothing, eyes trailing over the American teen who shifted in response, fiddling with a loose thread on his worn hoody. “Uh, was I s’pose to dress up?”
“What?” Arthur blinked, looking perplexed by Alfred’s words. He glanced down at himself, raising one of those bushy brows. “This is how I dress. What, did you think I walked around always covered in paint?”
Yes, as a matter of fact, he really did. But saying that would result in him being hit and it was far too early for that. Plus they had only just made up. So instead he shrugged, only half lying. Arthur rolled his eyes. “Come on git, let’s get going.”
“Where are we going anyways?” He followed after the Brit, waving to Ludwig when they passed by. “I’ll be back later, keep Ivan from killin’ Mattie for me!”
“I thought you and Braginsky were getting along,” Arthur questioned. Alfred gave a laugh, grinning as he returned his hands to his hoodies pockets.
“We are. But my little bro’s still dating his big sister. Meaning Ivan still wants to kill him.” Though the Russian was a bit better. He had let Matt take Katyusha out the other night for dinner. In retrospect though, he had been distracted by Alfred teasing him over a certain Chinese techi. And man, could that guys face go red!
Arthur simply hummed, reaching out to grab the American’s sleeve before he could walk into traffic. He flushed slightly, mumbling a simple thanks as they waited for the walk light, continuing on in silence. Alfred frowned a little as he glanced around, trying to look for anything familiar, before looking at Arthur. “So… Where are you takin’ me?”
“Not tellin’.”
“But Arthur! C’mon!”
“Oh hush, you’ll see.” Arthur remarked, quickening his pace. Alfred too picked up his pace to keep up, a bit surprised at how quickly the smaller blond was. He chewed his lip, trying to think of something they could talk about, but the only question that continued to pop up in his mind was something he was too embarrassed to ask.
Was this a date?
No, no of course not! Arthur had promised to take him around London when they had first met. He was only keeping that promise!
But still…
“What’s with your trip?” He blinked, not expecting Arthur to be the one to break the silence as they continued walking. The Brit glanced at him, before sighing as he elaborated, obviously thinking Alfred didn’t understand the question. “What I mean is… Ivan’s Russian, you and your brother are American. The Frog and his friends you talk about are French, Spanish and German-”
“Gilbert insists he’s Prussian.”
“Prussia no longer exists.”
“Yeah, we know. He says it’ll rise again or somethin’.”
“The day that happens Sealand will be its own nation,” Arthur responded with a roll of his eyes. But then he waved it off, carrying on. “My point is all of you are from different countries. Or at least seem to be. What’s with this trip any-”
“Mattie’s Canadian.” He spoke up before realizing it. “He’d kill you if he heard you call him American. He’d go all hockey rage on you.”
“Cana… What? But you’re-”
“Our parents are divorced.” He checked both ways this time, walking a step or two ahead now in an attempt to avoid the confused stare. “Anyways, Francis used to live in New York before his parents moved back to Paris. Gilbert and his brother’s folks are in the military so they moved around a lot.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.” Arthur almost sounded like he was pouting.
“We do it every summer. Mr. Weillschmidt, Gilbert’s and Ludwig’s Grandpa chaperones us to wherever we go. Francis, Antonio and Gilbert have been doing these kinda summer things since they were in high school. Francis invited me along when I was a sophomore as a thank you or something for being nice to him when he transferred to my high school. And then he let me bring Mattie cause he knew how hard it was for us to get together. Gilbert’s Grandpa was the one who invited Ivan, and his big sister came along to help supervise us all since she was already out of school… One year there cousin or somethin’ from Latvia came, but he stopped coming after the first trip.”
“So… This isn’t a school trip?”
“Nah, though sometimes we call it one.” He snorted, lacing his hands behind his head. “I mean, Mr. Weillschmidt treats it like one…”
Pop quizzes during the summer were not fun at all.
“So… You guys just… Get together every summer and go to some random country?” Alfred nodded, Arthur staring at him as if he had grown three heads. “H-How do you afford that!?”
“I work three jobs during the school year.” That and he was pretty sure Mr. Weillschmidt never fully charged he or Matthew for the trips. He could feel Arthur’s eyes on him, the American shifting uncomfortably. “What..?”
“I… Nothing…” The Brit shook his head, before continuing down the side walk. And Alfred couldn’t hide the sigh of relief that escaped him. He hadn’t wanted that conversation to continue. He really hadn’t. Arthur no doubt would’ve asked about the divorce and then…
“C’mon, we have to take the Tube.” Alfred snapped out of his thoughts, nodding dumbly.
“I don’t have a card…”
“I swiped the Scots.” Arthur grinned, holding a card out. Alfred took it, following Arthur, waiting as he paused by a map before gesturing the American to follow him. He did, waiting until they were on the platform to speak up.
“So… What’s up with you and that Scottish guy?”
Arthur looked hesitant for a moment, before giving a shrug. “He’s unfortunately my brother.”
“Seriously!? You never mentioned having a brother!”
“Yeah, cause he pisses me off on a regular basis.” Arthur rolled his eyes, their conversation halting as the train came. For a moment Alfred felt like he was back in New York City, a fond smile forming. They waited until the flow of disembarking passengers lessened, boarding the train. Alfred looked around for a seat, but the train was already full. A firm hand suddenly rested on his shoulder, and Alfred found himself pushed into one of the limited seats, Arthur sitting beside him. They didn’t speak much, swaying along to the train.
It was so awkward. Alfred fidgeted, unable to sit still. That earned him quite a few glares from Arthur. Sure, the two of them had fallen into silences before. There had been multiple times where they weren’t sure what to talk about. But this was different. At least during those other silences they had tasks that could occupy their times. They often drifted into compatible silences while painting or putting together set pieces.
But they had nothing to occupy their time right now. And the silence was growing to be unbearable. Reminding Alfred too much of the tense silence they had shared during the argument. Something he really didn’t want to remember…
“I like ice cream!” He blurted out, earning a strange look from Arthur. He shifted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Chocolate, that’s my favorite flavor. I-I mean, I like all kinds of ice cream. Y’know there’s a Superman flavor? It doesn’t taste all that great but I thought it was so cool. I mean, it’s Superman! He’s awesome! Ah, but he’s probably too exciting for a stodgy guy like you… Do you even read comic books? Oh, wait, you probably don’t. I mean, their totally exciting and not boring like that one book you told me to read. What was it? Eh, doesn’t matter, sounded boring as Hell-”
Oh God. He was rambling. He was rambling and he couldn’t stop. It was a nervous habit of his. Something Mattie always lectured him on. But he couldn’t help it. When he started, it was hard to stop. Even when he wanted to. He just continued, saying the first things that came to mind. He was making a fool of himself. Arthur was going to want to punch him. He needed to shut up. He had to shut up!
“-And what about soccer? I mean, well, it’s football here isn’t it? Why is that? I mean, why switch the name around? Like, I don’t really care. I like American football way better then soccer. I mean, it’s way cooler. But why’s it named after your version of soccer? I mean, there’s gotta be some reason behind it right? Did some guys just sit around and go-”
A hand, graciously, clamped over his mouth. Arthur was looking at him in a mix of exasperation and amusement, one bushy brow quirked upwards. Alfred continued rambling for a few moments, his voice muffled by the Brit’s hand. Finally though, the nervous rambling faded, Arthur’s hand remaining clamped down over his mouth. The exasperated look faded into one of pure amusement. “I like rocky road personally. But chocolate is very good. Also, I find Superman highly overrated. I’m more of a Batman fan myself.”
“Mmph!”
“What was that?” Alfred pushed the hand away, eyes wide. “How could you say Superman’s overrated!? He’s only the coolest superhero ever!”
“Oh yes, so terribly amazing. Indestructible to everything but a tiny green rock.”
“Pfft, better then mopey old Batman. The guy doesn’t even have any superpowers!”
“Which makes him much more noble in my opinion. He doesn’t have to be a superhero y’know.”
“And neither does Superman!”
The rest of the ride was spent with the two arguing who was better out of the two. And eventually, as a result of the constant flow of speech, breaking off to discuss other topics that came up. Before the American even realized it Arthur was standing up, gesturing for him to follow. They disembarked, Arthur’s hand grabbing hold of his own, so that he wouldn’t get lost was the Brit’s reasoning. And well it was crowded… So Alfred let it go. Instead tightening the hold. Their hands remained linked, even when they exited the Tube station. They would have to walk from there Arthur told him, but he assured Alfred it would be worth it. Again he tried to get the other to tell him where they were going, Arthur avoiding answering it the entire time. Finally, Alfred just gave up, crossing his arms over his chest with a (childish) huff. That only seemed to amuse Arthur further, the Brit teasing him as they turned a corner.
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