I Think I Need a New Heart [1a/?]
anonymous
May 30 2011, 21:25:14 UTC
this is my first time experimenting with html so forgive me any mistakes. anyways i'm not sure if OP is okay with an AU but I couldn't help myself. this part is really just an introduction. I promise more of the actual prompt later Original Request: America is head over heels in love with France; Canada is similarly smitten with England. Both agree to help each other conquer the object of their affections. Thing is, America totally fails every time at the sophistication that France likes, even with all his twin's attempts to train him. Canada fails to call England's attention to himself, even while his brother generously tries to fade into the background. Bonus. It could be interesting to see this prompt with FrUK going on secretly, seeking in each other the twin they're in love with. http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/20026.html?thread=71806010#t71806010
They weren’t a family. People thought they were when they bickered at restaurants or saw them at campsites. They assumed some sort of brother/uncle/cousin dynamic was going on. They were wrong.
Matthew and Alfred were in fact brothers…technically. Although they had been born minutes apart (Alfred was first and he never let anyone forget it) they hadn’t grown up together. Circumstances, mainly a tragic blimp incident no one talked about, had led the two into foster homes before they were two.
Matthew had been sent to Canada, Ottawa to be exact, and Alfred had moved to a town a few hours north of New York City. They had only started corresponding at age 16 after their foster parents had revealed they each had a twin. They had exchanged emails and phone numbers and soon they were as close as they would have been if they had lived together always. Alfred claimed it was one of those freaky twin things. Matthew, slightly more pragmatic, said it was more likely due to the fact that Alfred called him every fucking day.
Either way when they turned eighteen it was decided that they would attend the same university, good ol’ NYU. Matthew had been reluctant to leave his home but had been persuaded by his foster-brother Francis who was living in New York himself.
Francis Bonnefoy was the third member of the not-a-family. Matthew’s foster family had been French and the culture of that great nation was perhaps never better personified than in Francis. He was charming, sophisticated, an excellent chef, and dreadfully romantic…often with an emphasis on the dreadful. He had come to New York to study fashion and somehow ended up as a highly successful fashion photographer.
He was also, despite what many might think, an excellent brother. As careless as he was with a great many hearts, Francis was remarkably attentive to his little Matthew. He had been there to listen to Matthew’s fears, insecurities, and quiet little dreams and whenever Matthew dropped by his studio he was available to talk.
All this behavior gave a remarkable misimpression of how he acted the rest of the time. He was ruthless in his business dealings, heartless in his treatment of his lovers, and rather derisive of the rest of humanity.
The rest of humanity more often then not included Arthur Kirkland. Arthur Kirkland was Bonnefoy’s personal assistant. He booked appointments, made phone calls, and generally dealt with the clientele that photographers such as Francis attracted; namely high-profile magazines, snobby models, and rich women who were ugly and thought they were beautiful. Arthur hated his job a little.
Neither Francis nor Arthur was sure why Arthur still had his job. They argued over every little detail, Arthur was hopelessly insubordinate, Francis was hopelessly perverted, and they tended to engage in outright physical fights.
I Think I Need a New Heart [1b/?]
anonymous
May 30 2011, 21:26:19 UTC
Stupid character limit... here's the rest
Given all this it was a miracle that they still worked together. Given this it was a miracle that they had become friends.
As unlikely as it was the two of them spent a good deal of time together outside the office. Arthur was convinced it was because they were both masochists but never dared voice the thought out loud because Francis would turn it into innuendo. Francis was of the opinion that the magic power of alcohol rendered even Arthur’s sweater vests bearable.
Due to this somewhat unconventional, if slightly unhealthy, friendship, it had seemed natural to invite Arthur to dinner with his younger brother. Of course had Alfred tagged along, having an uncanny ability to be where he was least wanted, and that had been the beginning of the not-a-family.
Francis invariably brought Arthur along to everything, claiming it was good for him to have a social life for once, and Matthew invariably allowed Alfred to tag along wherever he went. Eventually they had settled into a pattern of doing things on long weekends and meeting for dinner once or twice a week. Everyone would bicker in their own special way; France through charm, Alfred through sulky remarks, Arthur through cursing, and Matthew through artful passive aggression. They were fun to be around, just ask the waiters and the citizens whom they emotionally, and occasionally physically, scarred.
As to being called a family, Francis and Arthur objected to the title because if they were a family, by virtue of being the elder two, they would be the parents. Neither one would agree to be the mom. Matthew and Alfred objected to the title because if Francis and Arthur were parental figures than their feelings for the two were very, very wrong.
As Alfred had charmingly put it to Matthew ‘Daddy kink, not my thing’
Matthew had agreed but had privately thought that if Arthur wanted to be called ‘daddy’ then he would totally do it.
Re: I Think I Need a New Heart [1b/?]
anonymous
May 31 2011, 19:10:03 UTC
oooh, interesting.
Also my favourite part is definitely that whole last part of who's the mom and the whole daddy kink thing.
Speaking of that: Matthew had agreed but had privately thought that if Arthur wanted to be called ‘daddy’ then he would totally do it. I found this to be hilarious and sweet at the same time. Yeah I don't know.
I Think I Need a New Heart [2a/?]
anonymous
June 1 2011, 22:48:40 UTC
Alfred had first met Francis Bonnefoy when he came to visit Mattie their freshman year in college. They had managed to snag a room together and Matthew, awesome bro that he was, had let Alfred decorate the room with Indiana Jones posters.
Francis had looked decidedly out of place, standing in the doorway in his designer suit with long hair pulled back into a sophisticated ponytail.
Alfred knew he was gay so it wasn’t like he was bothered that he was attracted to a guy. No, what bothered him was that he was attracted to a guy who looked like he had strolled out of Vogue magazine. Usually he went for more manly guys…say, like Harrison Ford.
He decided then and there that it must be love. Alfred was a big believer in love at first sight. Hollywood could very likely be blamed for this belief.
He didn’t make a great first impression however. He stood staring at Francis, jaw hanging open, for so long that the Frenchman snapped “I realize that this room has never before been graced with such a well-dressed presence but do cease your gawking and tell me where Matthew is.”
Alfred sputtered a little, his mind rebooting. “Uh, you’re here for Matthew then?”
“I said so, did I not?”
Alfred looked embarrassed. “Uh yeah, you did. He’s at a movie. He should be back soon.”
“Ah, I guess I will wait then,” Francis said, looking disappointed. “I assume due to your resemblance to Matthew that you must be Alfred.” His tone implied that being an Alfred was some sort of horrible disease.
“I am!” Alfred said, disregarding the implied insult. “Does Matthew talk about me?”
Francis looked around the room with scorn. “Yes indeed. He is quite fond of you for some reason.”
“We’re brothers, man! We have an awesomely special bond of twinness”
Francis arched a perfectly shaped brow. “How delightful.”
Alfred smiled, blissful in his ignorance. “Isn’t it though? Mattie’s great. It was the best birthday present ever to find out that I had such an awesome little bro.”
Francis’ cold expression had softened somewhat. “He is quite wonderful.”
“Who are you by the way?” Alfred asked. He figured it was a good start to learn the name of one’s true love.
Francis looked vaguely offended at being unrecognized. “I am Francis Bonnefoy, fashion photographer and foster brother to your twin.”
Realization dawned on Alfred’s face. “You’re Francis! Oh Mattie talks about you all the time.” He gave the elegant man a brilliant smile that would have sold millions in toothpaste tubes if it was ever commercialized. “Nice to finally meet you.”
Francis believed he had never before had his hand shaken with such enthusiasm. Luckily for his fingers Matthew chose that moment to arrive.
He greeted Francis with a hug and cheerfully accepted his invitation to dinner the next night. When Alfred turned the puppy-dog eyes on Matthew, his twin requested that Alfred be allowed to attend as well. Francis reluctantly agreed and left.
“Wow,” said Alfred dreamily after he was out of earshot.
“Are you okay Al? You look a little ill,” Matthew said concernedly.
Alfred ignored the question. “Is he gay? Tell me he’s gay Mattie.”
Matthew looked a little taken aback. “Um he’s not gay really. I mean, he’s not straight either…he’s just Francis.”
Alfred gave a longing sigh “Yeah, he something special isn’t he? I think I love him”
Mattie nodded in the slow way that people used around insane people so as not to startle them. “Sure you are Al. It’s not weird at all to fall in love with someone after two seconds acquaintance.”
Matthew would later be forced to eat his words when he met Arthur.
I Think I Need a New Heart [2b/?]
anonymous
June 1 2011, 22:53:27 UTC
Matthew was a bit of a serial dater. For the most part he was generally overlooked, however motherly girls who wanted to protect him, guys who thought he looked like a chick, indie girls who thought his quietness concealed profound thought, and perverts had a tendency to break this rule and notice him.
He got asked out rather a lot actually. He had never once said no. It seemed cruel to reject someone and maybe they would turn out to be better than they seemed. Unfortunately for Matthew, this was rarely the case. Motherly girls grew condescending, guys were disappointed when he couldn’t cook and didn’t clean, indie girls soon found that quietness hid a person more snarky than wise, and the perverts…well they obviously asked for some weird stuff. But Matthew never rejected any of them. Nope, instead he had mastered the art of slowly convincing someone to break up with him.
The day he met Arthur Kirkland, he was about halfway through this process with Jane. Jane was one of the girls who thought she was deep. She went to coffee houses, smoked to look cool, read only tragic poetry with incomprehensible metaphors, and wore turtlenecks. She was convinced Matthew was tortured soul with a bitter inferiority complex.
Matthew hadn’t contradicted her. Instead, he said that Twilight was his favorite novel, suggested that they go to Starbucks after a date, and said that he thought Justin Beiber had deep insight into the human condition. Unfortunately Jane wasn’t giving up. She thought he was just misguided by the materialistic world and was determined to rectify the error.
Thus he had promised to meet her at the modern art museum after visiting Francis at his studio. Francis was shooting a bunch of models in scraps of animal print when he came in so Matthew sat down on a plush sofa to wait.
“Cup of tea?” a kind British voice asked from his left.
Matthew jumped about a foot in the air. “Sorry,” said the man chuckling “didn’t mean to startle you.”
Matthew blinked and then smiled, holding out his hand. “I’m Matthew Jones, I grew up with Francis.” Never let it be said that Matthew had less social skills than Alfred. He made a far better first impression with the object of his affections.
“Ah yes, he mentioned you. What’s it like growing up with the devil incarnate?”
Did he just… “Excuse me?” Matthew asked politely.
The short man blushed in a way that Matthew would later categorize as cute. “Ah sorry about that. I’m Arthur Kirkland, Mr.Bonnefoy’s assistant.”
Matthew looked at him sympathetically. “That must be…interesting.”
Arthur nodded slowly, looking like a veteran having flashbacks of the war. “Yes, interesting, very.” Then he appeared to snap out of his thoughts. “So tea?”
Matthew agreed. Normally he wasn’t much of a tea drinker but he had three cups to satisfy Arthur; Arthur whose opinion suddenly meant everything.
It didn’t help, therefore, when Francis strolled over and said “Where is that girl you’ve been with lately? Jane I believe? I thought you two were going somewhere today.”
“Uh, yes” Matthew said blushing, but not out of embarrassment like the other men thought, but out of annoyance. He finished yet another cup of tea and left.
Matthew happened to like modern art but he didn’t like it when people tried to pretentiously explain it to him. Jane was in the middle of explaining how the sculpture was meant to convey the artist’s feelings of utter despair at the thought of globalization when something inside him snapped.
“Jane,” said Matthew, smiling at her in a way he never had before.
“Yes Matthew,” she said smiling in a way she practiced in the mirror everyday; lips pursed just enough to look mysterious.
I Think I Need a New Heart [2c/?] with A/N
anonymous
June 1 2011, 22:56:58 UTC
“I don’t really want to date you anymore,” Matthew said. His head felt light and a buzz rushed through his veins. “I like who I am. I don’t need to be educated or polished into a gleaming model of what you think sophistication is supposed to be. In fact I hate your idea of sophistication. I like to watch sports and read Harry Potter. I like Lady GaGa and I even occasionally like to eat at McDonalds. And I hate Lord Byron; he was even more of a poser than you.”
He began to walk away but then in a final act of defiance turned back to see her gaping face. “Oh yeah and one more thing: the sculpture’s meant to convey the positive connection between countries due to the internet. I know this because I read the damn plaque!”
Someone began applauding in the back of the gallery. Usually Matthew would feel guilty and embarrassed by the attention but he was too preoccupied. His thoughts were full of a green-eyed British man with tousled hair and a cute ass. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ I got screwed on character amount again so I apologize for the weird flow. At least it leaves room for a gigantic author's note. Anyway thanks for everyone who wanted to see more of this story. I hope this part meets expectations. My grammar when it comes to dialogue sucks so I apologize for any glaring errors. I feel like I use commas too much. I don’t usually use OCs but I felt justified in doing so this time. I doubt there will be any more. Also how do you guys feel about introducing other pairings? I like writing ensemble cast but if you guys feel that the story should just stay focused on FACE then I can do that too. If you want a specific pairing let me know. I already have Feliciano written in the next part but he is unpaired at the moment.
*sigh* Accidently denon at first...
anonymous
June 2 2011, 02:44:37 UTC
Had to lol at Matthew being the one who got the girls and guys even if for the wrong reason. I wonder how does Alfred's love life compare?
Anyway, I really like how you write Matthew and Alfred. Matthew is passive-aggressive without it being over the top and being a snarky one liner kind of guy; Alfred is his dorky, oblivious self without appearing like a dumb obnoxious jock. *cough* Sorry, those two are my favourite characters and I tend to be picky, should we say of their characterization.
Anyway, I loved Matthew's description of Francis' sexuality. Oh Francis,I would have just called you pansexual if I had to label you but I suppose saying "he's just Francis" fits too.
Since you asked: I feel like this story is better suited to just focusing on FACE seeing that's what the prompt and it fits the story you created. Don't get me wrong, I love reading ensemble stories but they have a habit of losing the main prompt of the story. Anyway, I'll read this fill whatever you choose. :]
Also My favourite pairing is Gilbert/Ludwig, and I would love to see that but admittedly that's tends to be hard to work in in a human au...
I Think I Need a New Heart [3a/?]
anonymous
June 4 2011, 17:14:12 UTC
People sometimes doubted that Matthew and Alfred were twins. They looked exactly alike when it came down to genetics but mannerisms had shaped their appearances enough that it was sometimes difficult to see that they had the same jaw line and straight nose.
Alfred smiled constantly and was full to the tips of his battered sneakers with enthusiasm whereas Matthew was more reserved and had a tendency to wallflower it up if allowed. Matthew was thoughtful and clever whereas Alfred was blunt and, though some people doubted it, intelligent rather than witty. Matthew shuffled and Alfred strode. Alfred was loud and Matthew was soft. Matthew was passive-aggressive while Alfred couldn’t even tell a white lie; he had such an open personality.
However for all their differences they had a significant similarity or two. One of these was the absolute inability of either of them to win over the man of their dreams.
It had been four years since the fateful first meetings and nothing had changed. No that wasn’t true, both Alfred and Matthew would probably agree their chances had definitely gotten worse over time.
Arthur hardly noticed Matthew was alive, he was so busy trying to dampen down Alfred’s eagerness and keep Francis from, god forbid, becoming bored. And if he had a problem or needed company he always called Alfred up. Matthew even wondered if Arthur had his number, certainly he had never asked for it.
Alfred, on the other hand, was certainly noticed by Francis. The only problem was that Francis viewed him as a pest; a thing to be swatted away or, at best, tolerated. Francis found Alfred to be crass and treated him with unrivaled contempt.
And Alfred had an obstacle to deal with that Matthew did not. Arthur was gay as the unicorns he would go on and on about if you asked, so Matthew’s competition was limited to men. Alfred had to compete with everyone, including inanimate objects if the time he had caught Francis hitting on a barstool was any indication. If Francis had been gay Alfred would have had a shot, however add busty underwear models to the competition and he was out for the count and he knew it.
“I think God hates us,” said Matthew, glaring at his beer like it had done him a personal wrong. Which was really quite unfair seeing as the beer would make all his problems go away in a few hours.
“Of course God doesn’t hate us,” Alfred returned, attempting to sound cheerful. “Nope, this is all part of his plan.”
“We’re gay, we never go to church, and remember that time Francis convinced us to graffiti that crucifix. We gave Jesus a Hitler mustache for crying out loud. God hates us Al. That’s why we fell in love with people who are never, ever going to love us back.”
“Well first of all God loves everyone, even the gays, and secondly I bet God likes to party. I’m sure he can forgive a drunken mistake or two.”
“Al, have you ever even read the bible?” Matthew said taking a long drag on his drink
“The illustrated one,” Alfred said cheerfully
“You mean the one for kids?”
Alfred shrugged. “I guess. It had some really cute sheep in it.”
Matthew decided to return to the original subject. He didn’t like sheep. “I mean how hard would it have been to have fallen in love with someone who noticed me? People do, you know. I’m fucking adorable. I swear Arthur doesn’t even see me.”
“At least when he does notice you he’s nice,” Alfred said, reflecting on all the insults Francis had thrown at him and the more literal things that had been tossed in his direction by the snobby, yet somehow sexy, Frenchman.
“I don’t want him to be nice,” Matthew sulked. “I want him to love me, not treat me like some kid.”
“Well take charge Mattie,” Alfred commanded. “Go forth and seduce your irritable Englishman. I have faith in you my son.”
Mattie gave Alfred an expression worthy of Francis. “Yeah if it’s so easy then why haven’t you gotten Francis?
Alfred looked stung. “I have tried. You know I’ve tried but he doesn’t take me seriously. He just thinks I’m joking around or trying to annoy him.”
Matthew’s response to this depressing statement was to order another round of beer.
Re: I Think I Need a New Heart [3b/?]
anonymous
June 4 2011, 17:18:51 UTC
They woke up the next morning in their shared apartment; more specifically on the floor of the kitchen. Matthew was using a stuffed bear as a pillow and Alfred was using Matthew as a pillow. Unfortunately Matthew woke up first.
Alfred was the heavier of the two. Unfairly this wasn’t because he was fat even though McDonalds was his favorite place in the universe. No, Al wasn’t fat because his second favorite place in the universe was the gym. Usually Matthew didn’t mind that his brother could toss him out the window if he liked but when all that muscle weight was on his stomach then it was a different story.
“Get off you ass,” Matthew said shoving at his twin. It was really not Matthew’s morning. For one, Alfred didn’t move an inch and for the other, the sound of his own voice caused a huge bolt of pain to attack his head. He whimpered, rubbing his temple.
The noise woke Alfred who chirped enthusiastically “Good morning!” They both groaned simultaneously.
A pot of coffee, some aspirin, and two stacks of IHOP pancakes later Matthew and Alfred were feeling better. Marginally.
“I hate alcohol,” Alfred complained. “It pretends to be all friendly and awesome and then it sneaks up and fucks you over. I feel like my skull got run over by a tank.”
Matthew just nodded, looking like something much the same had happened to him. His expression changed to one of raw horror when a voice full of undiluted good cheer called out their names.
“Matthew! Alfred! What a wonderful coincidence! I woke up this morning and wanted pancakes but I didn’t have any normal flour so I decided to come here and have a cook make some for me instead. I didn’t know you liked pancakes but I guess you do. Which isn’t all that odd really because everyone loves pancakes so…”
“Hello Feli,” interrupted Alfred, trying to suppress the twitch in his eye.
Feliciano Vargas had a lot of classes with Matthew in college and he lived in the same building as them. He was sweet but even more energetic than Alfred sometimes. He beamed at both of them. Then he noticed their haggard faces. “Are you guys okay? You look a little sick.”
“Had a bit too much to drink last night, that’s all,” Alfred said. Matthew nodded in absolute agreement.
“Ah,” said Feliciano sagely. “I will leave you to your coffee then. Oh and Matthew you have a piece of paper stuck to your jacket. Bye now!” He waved cheerily and bounded away.
Matthew flailed around trying to see the paper. “Hold still,” commanded Alfred.
Matthew stilled and a sheet of notebook paper was removed from his hoodie. The note was written in many different colors of sharpee and had glitter sprinkled all over it.
The heading read “The Super Awesome Canadian-American Plan of Seduction”
Matthew looked at Alfred and said the only thing that really needed to be said. “The note puts Canada first,” he said with his first smile of the morning.
I Think I Need a New Heart [3c/?]
anonymous
June 4 2011, 17:30:59 UTC
The note, once serious spelling mistakes were interpreted and some of the glitter was scraped off, read this:
The Super Awesome Canadian-American Plan of Seduction
1. Learn what Arthur and Francis like in their lovers -By any means necessary a.Except stalking b.ANY means Mattie 2.Become the sort of people that they would want to fuck love 3.Help each other out instead of getting in each other’s way -That’s what bros are for -Yeah Alfred stop hogging all of Arthur’s attention -Ha, cause you don’t do the same thing with Francis -You suck -You suck harder -Guess we’ll have to ask Arthur and Francis to compare, eh? -You’re dirty when you’re drunk Matthew…I like it 4.Success 5.Also Matt you wear this hoodie all the fucking time so we’re taping this to the back so you remember to read it. Also hello future us!
“We’re geniuses when we’re drunk,” said Alfred in an awed voice
Matthew shot a look at his brother. Sometimes he could be a moron. “Look Al, I know this looks like a good plan but think about it. You can’t win someone over by pretending to be someone else. Also judging by the handwriting we were really smashed when we wrote this.”
“Of course you can,” said Alfred, smiling his mega-watt smile. “It happens in movies all the time."
“This isn’t Hollywood Al. We are not in a movie. A haircut doesn’t automatically make a guy fall in love with you.”
“It would have to be bigger than a haircut,” Alfred speculated. He hummed slightly. “I would have to learn how to do all those ‘cultured’ things that Francis always complains that I don’t. And I would have to learn how to dress better and maybe stop shouting so much. He always says that I’m too loud. Maybe I should get contacts. Do you think I should get contacts?”
“Whoa, slow down. Are you seriously going to listen to your drunk self?”
“Seems like drunk me was a little bit less of a pussy than sober me, so yeah, I think I will.” Alfred’s face suddenly grew almost grim. “Look Matt, I know that you think your situation with Arthur is hopeless but really once you get him to notice you, you have a serious shot. Arthur is the kind of guy who falls in deep honest love. You can just tell by the way he reads all that romantic poetry that he wants to be in love. You just have to direct that emotion at you.”
He sighed and chewed mournfully on a bite of pancake. After he swallowed he continued. “Francis is good guy deep down, we both know that, but he is a total dick to his lovers. He can’t handle relationships. He also is super high class. I’m beneath him…”
“Al…” Matthew said frowning
“No, it’s true Matt. I’m just some little goofy nobody. He’s used to being with models and businessman not graduate students with no manners. I need to do something. I don’t care if I have to act differently. I love him and I will do anything to get him to at least want me.”
Matthew rarely saw Alfred with such a determined expression. He had seen it when Alfred had declared his intention to become a history teacher to parents who really wanted him to be a lawyer. He had seen it when Alfred had said to a mocking asshole in a bar ‘Yeah so what I’m gay. Could still take you in a fight’ and had seen it fifteen minutes later when Alfred insisted on carrying the guy he had just knocked out to the hospital down the street.
Matthew knew he couldn’t fight that determination. And he also knew that any scheme Alfred enacted, he would tag along. After all they were brothers; they had to have each other’s backs.
“Alright then,” Matthew said, forcing a smile, “what’s our first move?”
Alfred’s smile wasn’t forced in the least and it almost made Matthew glad of his decision.
this is my first time experimenting with html so forgive me any mistakes. anyways i'm not sure if OP is okay with an AU but I couldn't help myself. this part is really just an introduction. I promise more of the actual prompt later
Original Request: America is head over heels in love with France; Canada is similarly smitten with England. Both agree to help each other conquer the object of their affections.
Thing is, America totally fails every time at the sophistication that France likes, even with all his twin's attempts to train him. Canada fails to call England's attention to himself, even while his brother generously tries to fade into the background.
Bonus. It could be interesting to see this prompt with FrUK going on secretly, seeking in each other the twin they're in love with.
http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/20026.html?thread=71806010#t71806010
They weren’t a family. People thought they were when they bickered at restaurants or saw them at campsites. They assumed some sort of brother/uncle/cousin dynamic was going on. They were wrong.
Matthew and Alfred were in fact brothers…technically. Although they had been born minutes apart (Alfred was first and he never let anyone forget it) they hadn’t grown up together. Circumstances, mainly a tragic blimp incident no one talked about, had led the two into foster homes before they were two.
Matthew had been sent to Canada, Ottawa to be exact, and Alfred had moved to a town a few hours north of New York City. They had only started corresponding at age 16 after their foster parents had revealed they each had a twin. They had exchanged emails and phone numbers and soon they were as close as they would have been if they had lived together always. Alfred claimed it was one of those freaky twin things. Matthew, slightly more pragmatic, said it was more likely due to the fact that Alfred called him every fucking day.
Either way when they turned eighteen it was decided that they would attend the same university, good ol’ NYU. Matthew had been reluctant to leave his home but had been persuaded by his foster-brother Francis who was living in New York himself.
Francis Bonnefoy was the third member of the not-a-family. Matthew’s foster family had been French and the culture of that great nation was perhaps never better personified than in Francis. He was charming, sophisticated, an excellent chef, and dreadfully romantic…often with an emphasis on the dreadful. He had come to New York to study fashion and somehow ended up as a highly successful fashion photographer.
He was also, despite what many might think, an excellent brother. As careless as he was with a great many hearts, Francis was remarkably attentive to his little Matthew. He had been there to listen to Matthew’s fears, insecurities, and quiet little dreams and whenever Matthew dropped by his studio he was available to talk.
All this behavior gave a remarkable misimpression of how he acted the rest of the time. He was ruthless in his business dealings, heartless in his treatment of his lovers, and rather derisive of the rest of humanity.
The rest of humanity more often then not included Arthur Kirkland. Arthur Kirkland was Bonnefoy’s personal assistant. He booked appointments, made phone calls, and generally dealt with the clientele that photographers such as Francis attracted; namely high-profile magazines, snobby models, and rich women who were ugly and thought they were beautiful. Arthur hated his job a little.
Neither Francis nor Arthur was sure why Arthur still had his job. They argued over every little detail, Arthur was hopelessly insubordinate, Francis was hopelessly perverted, and they tended to engage in outright physical fights.
Reply
Given all this it was a miracle that they still worked together. Given this it was a miracle that they had become friends.
As unlikely as it was the two of them spent a good deal of time together outside the office. Arthur was convinced it was because they were both masochists but never dared voice the thought out loud because Francis would turn it into innuendo. Francis was of the opinion that the magic power of alcohol rendered even Arthur’s sweater vests bearable.
Due to this somewhat unconventional, if slightly unhealthy, friendship, it had seemed natural to invite Arthur to dinner with his younger brother. Of course had Alfred tagged along, having an uncanny ability to be where he was least wanted, and that had been the beginning of the not-a-family.
Francis invariably brought Arthur along to everything, claiming it was good for him to have a social life for once, and Matthew invariably allowed Alfred to tag along wherever he went. Eventually they had settled into a pattern of doing things on long weekends and meeting for dinner once or twice a week. Everyone would bicker in their own special way; France through charm, Alfred through sulky remarks, Arthur through cursing, and Matthew through artful passive aggression. They were fun to be around, just ask the waiters and the citizens whom they emotionally, and occasionally physically, scarred.
As to being called a family, Francis and Arthur objected to the title because if they were a family, by virtue of being the elder two, they would be the parents. Neither one would agree to be the mom. Matthew and Alfred objected to the title because if Francis and Arthur were parental figures than their feelings for the two were very, very wrong.
As Alfred had charmingly put it to Matthew ‘Daddy kink, not my thing’
Matthew had agreed but had privately thought that if Arthur wanted to be called ‘daddy’ then he would totally do it.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Also my favourite part is definitely that whole last part of who's the mom and the whole daddy kink thing.
Speaking of that:
Matthew had agreed but had privately thought that if Arthur wanted to be called ‘daddy’ then he would totally do it.
I found this to be hilarious and sweet at the same time. Yeah I don't know.
Reply
Reply
Francis had looked decidedly out of place, standing in the doorway in his designer suit with long hair pulled back into a sophisticated ponytail.
Alfred knew he was gay so it wasn’t like he was bothered that he was attracted to a guy. No, what bothered him was that he was attracted to a guy who looked like he had strolled out of Vogue magazine. Usually he went for more manly guys…say, like Harrison Ford.
He decided then and there that it must be love. Alfred was a big believer in love at first sight. Hollywood could very likely be blamed for this belief.
He didn’t make a great first impression however. He stood staring at Francis, jaw hanging open, for so long that the Frenchman snapped “I realize that this room has never before been graced with such a well-dressed presence but do cease your gawking and tell me where Matthew is.”
Alfred sputtered a little, his mind rebooting. “Uh, you’re here for Matthew then?”
“I said so, did I not?”
Alfred looked embarrassed. “Uh yeah, you did. He’s at a movie. He should be back soon.”
“Ah, I guess I will wait then,” Francis said, looking disappointed. “I assume due to your resemblance to Matthew that you must be Alfred.” His tone implied that being an Alfred was some sort of horrible disease.
“I am!” Alfred said, disregarding the implied insult. “Does Matthew talk about me?”
Francis looked around the room with scorn. “Yes indeed. He is quite fond of you for some reason.”
“We’re brothers, man! We have an awesomely special bond of twinness”
Francis arched a perfectly shaped brow. “How delightful.”
Alfred smiled, blissful in his ignorance. “Isn’t it though? Mattie’s great. It was the best birthday present ever to find out that I had such an awesome little bro.”
Francis’ cold expression had softened somewhat. “He is quite wonderful.”
“Who are you by the way?” Alfred asked. He figured it was a good start to learn the name of one’s true love.
Francis looked vaguely offended at being unrecognized. “I am Francis Bonnefoy, fashion photographer and foster brother to your twin.”
Realization dawned on Alfred’s face. “You’re Francis! Oh Mattie talks about you all the time.” He gave the elegant man a brilliant smile that would have sold millions in toothpaste tubes if it was ever commercialized. “Nice to finally meet you.”
Francis believed he had never before had his hand shaken with such enthusiasm. Luckily for his fingers Matthew chose that moment to arrive.
He greeted Francis with a hug and cheerfully accepted his invitation to dinner the next night. When Alfred turned the puppy-dog eyes on Matthew, his twin requested that Alfred be allowed to attend as well. Francis reluctantly agreed and left.
“Wow,” said Alfred dreamily after he was out of earshot.
“Are you okay Al? You look a little ill,” Matthew said concernedly.
Alfred ignored the question. “Is he gay? Tell me he’s gay Mattie.”
Matthew looked a little taken aback. “Um he’s not gay really. I mean, he’s not straight either…he’s just Francis.”
Alfred gave a longing sigh “Yeah, he something special isn’t he? I think I love him”
Mattie nodded in the slow way that people used around insane people so as not to startle them. “Sure you are Al. It’s not weird at all to fall in love with someone after two seconds acquaintance.”
Matthew would later be forced to eat his words when he met Arthur.
Reply
He got asked out rather a lot actually. He had never once said no. It seemed cruel to reject someone and maybe they would turn out to be better than they seemed. Unfortunately for Matthew, this was rarely the case. Motherly girls grew condescending, guys were disappointed when he couldn’t cook and didn’t clean, indie girls soon found that quietness hid a person more snarky than wise, and the perverts…well they obviously asked for some weird stuff. But Matthew never rejected any of them. Nope, instead he had mastered the art of slowly convincing someone to break up with him.
The day he met Arthur Kirkland, he was about halfway through this process with Jane. Jane was one of the girls who thought she was deep. She went to coffee houses, smoked to look cool, read only tragic poetry with incomprehensible metaphors, and wore turtlenecks. She was convinced Matthew was tortured soul with a bitter inferiority complex.
Matthew hadn’t contradicted her. Instead, he said that Twilight was his favorite novel, suggested that they go to Starbucks after a date, and said that he thought Justin Beiber had deep insight into the human condition. Unfortunately Jane wasn’t giving up. She thought he was just misguided by the materialistic world and was determined to rectify the error.
Thus he had promised to meet her at the modern art museum after visiting Francis at his studio. Francis was shooting a bunch of models in scraps of animal print when he came in so Matthew sat down on a plush sofa to wait.
“Cup of tea?” a kind British voice asked from his left.
Matthew jumped about a foot in the air. “Sorry,” said the man chuckling “didn’t mean to startle you.”
Matthew blinked and then smiled, holding out his hand. “I’m Matthew Jones, I grew up with Francis.” Never let it be said that Matthew had less social skills than Alfred. He made a far better first impression with the object of his affections.
“Ah yes, he mentioned you. What’s it like growing up with the devil incarnate?”
Did he just… “Excuse me?” Matthew asked politely.
The short man blushed in a way that Matthew would later categorize as cute. “Ah sorry about that. I’m Arthur Kirkland, Mr.Bonnefoy’s assistant.”
Matthew looked at him sympathetically. “That must be…interesting.”
Arthur nodded slowly, looking like a veteran having flashbacks of the war. “Yes, interesting, very.” Then he appeared to snap out of his thoughts. “So tea?”
Matthew agreed. Normally he wasn’t much of a tea drinker but he had three cups to satisfy Arthur; Arthur whose opinion suddenly meant everything.
It didn’t help, therefore, when Francis strolled over and said “Where is that girl you’ve been with lately? Jane I believe? I thought you two were going somewhere today.”
“Uh, yes” Matthew said blushing, but not out of embarrassment like the other men thought, but out of annoyance. He finished yet another cup of tea and left.
Matthew happened to like modern art but he didn’t like it when people tried to pretentiously explain it to him. Jane was in the middle of explaining how the sculpture was meant to convey the artist’s feelings of utter despair at the thought of globalization when something inside him snapped.
“Jane,” said Matthew, smiling at her in a way he never had before.
“Yes Matthew,” she said smiling in a way she practiced in the mirror everyday; lips pursed just enough to look mysterious.
Reply
He began to walk away but then in a final act of defiance turned back to see her gaping face. “Oh yeah and one more thing: the sculpture’s meant to convey the positive connection between countries due to the internet. I know this because I read the damn plaque!”
Someone began applauding in the back of the gallery. Usually Matthew would feel guilty and embarrassed by the attention but he was too preoccupied. His thoughts were full of a green-eyed British man with tousled hair and a cute ass.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I got screwed on character amount again so I apologize for the weird flow. At least it leaves room for a gigantic author's note. Anyway thanks for everyone who wanted to see more of this story. I hope this part meets expectations. My grammar when it comes to dialogue sucks so I apologize for any glaring errors. I feel like I use commas too much. I don’t usually use OCs but I felt justified in doing so this time. I doubt there will be any more. Also how do you guys feel about introducing other pairings? I like writing ensemble cast but if you guys feel that the story should just stay focused on FACE then I can do that too. If you want a specific pairing let me know. I already have Feliciano written in the next part but he is unpaired at the moment.
Reply
Reply
Can't wait to see more :)
Reply
Anyway, I really like how you write Matthew and Alfred. Matthew is passive-aggressive without it being over the top and being a snarky one liner kind of guy; Alfred is his dorky, oblivious self without appearing like a dumb obnoxious jock. *cough* Sorry, those two are my favourite characters and I tend to be picky, should we say of their characterization.
Anyway, I loved Matthew's description of Francis' sexuality. Oh Francis,I would have just called you pansexual if I had to label you but I suppose saying "he's just Francis" fits too.
Since you asked: I feel like this story is better suited to just focusing on FACE seeing that's what the prompt and it fits the story you created. Don't get me wrong, I love reading ensemble stories but they have a habit of losing the main prompt of the story. Anyway, I'll read this fill whatever you choose. :]
Also My favourite pairing is Gilbert/Ludwig, and I would love to see that but admittedly that's tends to be hard to work in in a human au...
Reply
Reply
Alfred smiled constantly and was full to the tips of his battered sneakers with enthusiasm whereas Matthew was more reserved and had a tendency to wallflower it up if allowed. Matthew was thoughtful and clever whereas Alfred was blunt and, though some people doubted it, intelligent rather than witty. Matthew shuffled and Alfred strode. Alfred was loud and Matthew was soft. Matthew was passive-aggressive while Alfred couldn’t even tell a white lie; he had such an open personality.
However for all their differences they had a significant similarity or two. One of these was the absolute inability of either of them to win over the man of their dreams.
It had been four years since the fateful first meetings and nothing had changed. No that wasn’t true, both Alfred and Matthew would probably agree their chances had definitely gotten worse over time.
Arthur hardly noticed Matthew was alive, he was so busy trying to dampen down Alfred’s eagerness and keep Francis from, god forbid, becoming bored. And if he had a problem or needed company he always called Alfred up. Matthew even wondered if Arthur had his number, certainly he had never asked for it.
Alfred, on the other hand, was certainly noticed by Francis. The only problem was that Francis viewed him as a pest; a thing to be swatted away or, at best, tolerated. Francis found Alfred to be crass and treated him with unrivaled contempt.
And Alfred had an obstacle to deal with that Matthew did not. Arthur was gay as the unicorns he would go on and on about if you asked, so Matthew’s competition was limited to men. Alfred had to compete with everyone, including inanimate objects if the time he had caught Francis hitting on a barstool was any indication. If Francis had been gay Alfred would have had a shot, however add busty underwear models to the competition and he was out for the count and he knew it.
“I think God hates us,” said Matthew, glaring at his beer like it had done him a personal wrong. Which was really quite unfair seeing as the beer would make all his problems go away in a few hours.
“Of course God doesn’t hate us,” Alfred returned, attempting to sound cheerful. “Nope, this is all part of his plan.”
“We’re gay, we never go to church, and remember that time Francis convinced us to graffiti that crucifix. We gave Jesus a Hitler mustache for crying out loud. God hates us Al. That’s why we fell in love with people who are never, ever going to love us back.”
“Well first of all God loves everyone, even the gays, and secondly I bet God likes to party. I’m sure he can forgive a drunken mistake or two.”
“Al, have you ever even read the bible?” Matthew said taking a long drag on his drink
“The illustrated one,” Alfred said cheerfully
“You mean the one for kids?”
Alfred shrugged. “I guess. It had some really cute sheep in it.”
Matthew decided to return to the original subject. He didn’t like sheep. “I mean how hard would it have been to have fallen in love with someone who noticed me? People do, you know. I’m fucking adorable. I swear Arthur doesn’t even see me.”
“At least when he does notice you he’s nice,” Alfred said, reflecting on all the insults Francis had thrown at him and the more literal things that had been tossed in his direction by the snobby, yet somehow sexy, Frenchman.
“I don’t want him to be nice,” Matthew sulked. “I want him to love me, not treat me like some kid.”
“Well take charge Mattie,” Alfred commanded. “Go forth and seduce your irritable Englishman. I have faith in you my son.”
Mattie gave Alfred an expression worthy of Francis. “Yeah if it’s so easy then why haven’t you gotten Francis?
Alfred looked stung. “I have tried. You know I’ve tried but he doesn’t take me seriously. He just thinks I’m joking around or trying to annoy him.”
Matthew’s response to this depressing statement was to order another round of beer.
Reply
Alfred was the heavier of the two. Unfairly this wasn’t because he was fat even though McDonalds was his favorite place in the universe. No, Al wasn’t fat because his second favorite place in the universe was the gym. Usually Matthew didn’t mind that his brother could toss him out the window if he liked but when all that muscle weight was on his stomach then it was a different story.
“Get off you ass,” Matthew said shoving at his twin. It was really not Matthew’s morning. For one, Alfred didn’t move an inch and for the other, the sound of his own voice caused a huge bolt of pain to attack his head. He whimpered, rubbing his temple.
The noise woke Alfred who chirped enthusiastically “Good morning!” They both groaned simultaneously.
A pot of coffee, some aspirin, and two stacks of IHOP pancakes later Matthew and Alfred were feeling better. Marginally.
“I hate alcohol,” Alfred complained. “It pretends to be all friendly and awesome and then it sneaks up and fucks you over. I feel like my skull got run over by a tank.”
Matthew just nodded, looking like something much the same had happened to him. His expression changed to one of raw horror when a voice full of undiluted good cheer called out their names.
“Matthew! Alfred! What a wonderful coincidence! I woke up this morning and wanted pancakes but I didn’t have any normal flour so I decided to come here and have a cook make some for me instead. I didn’t know you liked pancakes but I guess you do. Which isn’t all that odd really because everyone loves pancakes so…”
“Hello Feli,” interrupted Alfred, trying to suppress the twitch in his eye.
Feliciano Vargas had a lot of classes with Matthew in college and he lived in the same building as them. He was sweet but even more energetic than Alfred sometimes. He beamed at both of them. Then he noticed their haggard faces. “Are you guys okay? You look a little sick.”
“Had a bit too much to drink last night, that’s all,” Alfred said. Matthew nodded in absolute agreement.
“Ah,” said Feliciano sagely. “I will leave you to your coffee then. Oh and Matthew you have a piece of paper stuck to your jacket. Bye now!” He waved cheerily and bounded away.
Matthew flailed around trying to see the paper. “Hold still,” commanded Alfred.
Matthew stilled and a sheet of notebook paper was removed from his hoodie. The note was written in many different colors of sharpee and had glitter sprinkled all over it.
The heading read “The Super Awesome Canadian-American Plan of Seduction”
Matthew looked at Alfred and said the only thing that really needed to be said. “The note puts Canada first,” he said with his first smile of the morning.
Alfred punched him.
Reply
The Super Awesome Canadian-American Plan of Seduction
1. Learn what Arthur and Francis like in their lovers
-By any means necessary
a.Except stalking
b.ANY means Mattie
2.Become the sort of people that they would want to fuck love
3.Help each other out instead of getting in each other’s way
-That’s what bros are for
-Yeah Alfred stop hogging all of Arthur’s attention
-Ha, cause you don’t do the same thing with Francis
-You suck
-You suck harder
-Guess we’ll have to ask Arthur and Francis to compare, eh?
-You’re dirty when you’re drunk Matthew…I like it
4.Success
5.Also Matt you wear this hoodie all the fucking time so we’re taping this to the back so you remember to read it. Also hello future us!
“We’re geniuses when we’re drunk,” said Alfred in an awed voice
Matthew shot a look at his brother. Sometimes he could be a moron. “Look Al, I know this looks like a good plan but think about it. You can’t win someone over by pretending to be someone else. Also judging by the handwriting we were really smashed when we wrote this.”
“Of course you can,” said Alfred, smiling his mega-watt smile. “It happens in movies all the time."
“This isn’t Hollywood Al. We are not in a movie. A haircut doesn’t automatically make a guy fall in love with you.”
“It would have to be bigger than a haircut,” Alfred speculated. He hummed slightly. “I would have to learn how to do all those ‘cultured’ things that Francis always complains that I don’t. And I would have to learn how to dress better and maybe stop shouting so much. He always says that I’m too loud. Maybe I should get contacts. Do you think I should get contacts?”
“Whoa, slow down. Are you seriously going to listen to your drunk self?”
“Seems like drunk me was a little bit less of a pussy than sober me, so yeah, I think I will.” Alfred’s face suddenly grew almost grim. “Look Matt, I know that you think your situation with Arthur is hopeless but really once you get him to notice you, you have a serious shot. Arthur is the kind of guy who falls in deep honest love. You can just tell by the way he reads all that romantic poetry that he wants to be in love. You just have to direct that emotion at you.”
He sighed and chewed mournfully on a bite of pancake. After he swallowed he continued. “Francis is good guy deep down, we both know that, but he is a total dick to his lovers. He can’t handle relationships. He also is super high class. I’m beneath him…”
“Al…” Matthew said frowning
“No, it’s true Matt. I’m just some little goofy nobody. He’s used to being with models and businessman not graduate students with no manners. I need to do something. I don’t care if I have to act differently. I love him and I will do anything to get him to at least want me.”
Matthew rarely saw Alfred with such a determined expression. He had seen it when Alfred had declared his intention to become a history teacher to parents who really wanted him to be a lawyer. He had seen it when Alfred had said to a mocking asshole in a bar ‘Yeah so what I’m gay. Could still take you in a fight’ and had seen it fifteen minutes later when Alfred insisted on carrying the guy he had just knocked out to the hospital down the street.
Matthew knew he couldn’t fight that determination. And he also knew that any scheme Alfred enacted, he would tag along. After all they were brothers; they had to have each other’s backs.
“Alright then,” Matthew said, forcing a smile, “what’s our first move?”
Alfred’s smile wasn’t forced in the least and it almost made Matthew glad of his decision.
Reply
Leave a comment