Lovingly Untitled [3.1/n]
anonymous
May 16 2009, 14:38:06 UTC
Anon still feels very grateful to everyone who commented on the last one. Mucho love to all. ♥ Now, here's to hoping that these parts don't suck hardcore.
The instant Alfred got assigned to his cottage, which regrettably did not have Ludwig in it, the first thing he did was find his cellphone in the mess that was the inside of his luggages. He threw his clothes everywhere as he dug through his suitcase. When, even after emptying the contents of his suitcase, he still didn't find his phone, he raked his hair with his hand and his eyebrows furrowed. Where could he have put the damn thing?
He stood up straight and faced the door, ready to go out again. He would try to find his phone another time. He could probably borrow Ludwig's phone and call his papa from there.
He went outside his cottage and put his hands inside his pocket.
He blinked.
He looked at his right pocket. His right hand gripped something hard and smooth. He took out what his right hand was holding.
He found himself blinking yet again as he looked at his phone.
Being the man that he was, he laughed and began to dial his papa. He went back inside his cottage and sat on his -- or at least what he'd claimed as his -- bed. He just knew that he should've checked the most obvious place before rummaging through his bags.
"Hello, papa?" Alfred asked, though it sounded more of a statement when he said it, as soon as he heard the phone on the other end click to life.
There was a chuckle on the other end of the phone. "Hello, Alfred," Francis said.
"Camp's going to be so cool! And I saw Ludwig and Kiku, and I have some pretty awesome new friends now. Did you know that Uncle Antonio's super young cousins are here too?"
Francis found himself smiling. There was just something in the way that Alfred talked that made him feel so happy inside. The boy was special, he'd tell himself and everyone he knew. Really special. That boy was his.
"Isn't Alfred such a nice name, frog?"
"You just picked it out from the baby book, didn't you, rosbif? Give more consideration to our child's name."
"You can name the other baby."
"Hey, papa, are you listening?" Alfred asked.
Francis blinked. He missed a beat before he said, "Ah, I'm sorry, Alfred. Could you repeat that again? Papa's been busy, see?"
He could practically see his son pout over the phone. He couldn't help but chuckle.
"Fine. Fine. I'll just leave you to your work then," Alfred said like the adorably petulant child that he was.
"Non, mon petit. I will have you tell me more. I'll listen this time."
"Promise?"
"Promise." The smile on his face returned. Alfred was really too cute a kid. Even though he really was closer to being a teenager than an actual kid.
"If you say so then."
Alfred continued with his animated chatter, never quite running out of words to spill out of his mouth. The pauses he made to take back his breath were used by Francis to comment or freely chuckle.
It was around the time when Alfred was saying something about Ludwig being a spoilsport that his housemate came inside the cottage. This housemate went inside the room quietly, and would've probably been totally unnoticed by Alfred if it wasn't for the rusty hinges of the door or the creaky floorboards.
"G-Good morning, my name's--"
Matthew blinked. He was greeted by Alfred's blinding smile.
"Oh, hey papa! My roomie's here," Alfred exclaimed.
"What's your roommate like?" Francis asked.
"Wait." He looked at Matthew and asked him, "Who are you?"
"Oh, um, we met a while ago. Er, your name was Alfred and--" Matthew started to say.
"He's got this funny hair, papa! You know? It actually somewhat reminds me of your hair when you let it down. I wonder when you're going to cut your hair, papa. You'll start to look really girly if you let it any longer."
"I-I already said that my name was Matthew." His voice became softer and softer as he spoke.
Re: Lovingly Untitled [3.2/n]
anonymous
May 16 2009, 14:39:40 UTC
Alfred was already getting back into the conversation with his father.
He pulled his luggage in, careful not to step on any of Alfred's clothes, and began to unpack as quietly as he could, making sure not to bother Alfred's conversation. Not that Matthew had to try or anything. Alfred was already doing fine with ignoring him. Just like everyone he'd ever met and never talked to on a daily basis.
Matthew let out a sigh.
He was doomed to spend the entirety of his life being forgotten by everyone he ever introduced himself to after two minutes. Might as well call him the famed Invisible Man of Wells.
He sneaked a glance at his roommate.
It must've been a really important call though because no one could seriously look as happy as that if they weren't talking to someone close to them.
Matthew smiled and went back to what he was doing.
Even if Alfred would most likely forget about him more than just half of the time, at least the guy wasn't impossible to get along with. Or so Matthew hoped since the last thing his incredibly timid self needed was a jerk of a roommate.
When he finished putting away all of his things in what he deemed was an orderly manner, he sat on his own bed, only to see that Alfred was still talking on the phone. It was an endearing sight, really, but long-distance calls were expensive things, weren't they? Also, it seemed as if an incredibly long time had passed since Alfred started his conversation.
It was mind-boggling the way Alfred kept on calling whoever was on the other side of the phone to someone like Matthew who had been raised by someone who was both a pocket-pinching parent and a time-conscious individual.
They had the money, his father would say, but that didn't mean they had to spend it all on one go. Or that they had to spend it at all. And his father would look at the time after he said that.
Perhaps Alfred hadn't talked to this person for a while.
Perhaps, Matthew thought, it wasn't his business
He stood up from his bed and decided to head out. Exploring was probably better than being cooped up in a place where he couldn't do anything or where the other living, breathing individual in the room practically couldn't even see him.
He could certainly try getting Alfred's attention later on and finally properly introducing himself. They would be, after all, living together for a whole month and it would be simply silly for his own roommate not to know at least his name.
His own optimism made him cheer up. Things were going to be fine.
Still, he found himself fishing his phone out of his pocket and dialing his father's number, hoping that he wasn't being a bother.
"Thank goodness you called Matthew! I was beginning to worry if you hadn't arrived there," was his father's greeting.
"Good morning, father," Matthew said with a smile on his face. "I hope I'm not bothering you."
"Nonsense! So how are things so far? No one's bullying you, right?"
"I have a roommate and..." Matthew was stuck struggling with his words for about a second or two. "... I think I'll be fine."
Lovingly Untitled [4.1/n]
anonymous
May 16 2009, 15:07:02 UTC
Dinner's a disaster, was what Matthew thought as he took cover under the long, wooden table he had been eating on just a few seconds before. Just a few seconds ago, he had been calmly sitting on his chair, sharing the table with other equally quiet individuals, sans a blond who was not Alfred. He had been dutifully eating his vegetables -- he didn't really like them, but his father had always taught him to eat everything that was served to him, except dubious-looking substances; which was really a laugh because Matthew ate nothing but dubious substances whenever his father cooked -- when he heard a splat. The next thing he heard was a scream. It was loud and shrill, and entirely unpleasant to hear.
Then, faster than anyone could say "Hey there's the ice cream man!", the whole dining hall was in chaos.
Chairs had been pushed to make way. Faces were becoming indistinguishable. No one was your friend.
Food flew through the air.
Matthew had followed the actions of his tablemates which was how he found himself under the table, safe from the food flinging and the water warring. Though, as tense as he was, he couldn't help but feel some sort of adrenalin rush. It was, after all, the first time he'd ever seen a food fight. He would probably never want to participate in it after this trauma, but at least he'd gotten to see one.
He heard a laugh. It was a boisterous laugh. It was a laugh that overpowered all noises.
It was a laugh that compelled him to look out from his safety zone.
He looked around for the source of the laughter and saw Alfred standing on top of a chair that was on top of a table.
His left hand was on his hip and his other hand was holding a plate of mashed potatoes. He was laughing amidst all of the chaos. He was, if Matthew was so inclined to think (which he probably was at that point), nuts. Batshit crazy, as those wacky cartoons Matthew had once upon a time had a chance to watch, even.
"I claim the title of Food Fight King!" he exclaimed.
He threw his mashed potatoes, plastic plate and all, as far as he could. It so conveniently landed on an incredibly tall, scarf-wearing boy who was the only person that was calmly sitting on his chair and eating his food. The mashed potatoes had landed on the top of his fair-colored hair.
The smile on his face widened. Exponentially.
Matthew's eyes widened, and he was sure that the eyes of everyone else in the room, possibly with the exception of the currently batshit crazy Alfred, widened. The room grew silent. Eerily silent. Almost as if someone had put a muffler on every mouth in the room.
Soon, they heard laughter. It was soft, but the silence shrouding the room made it seem as if it was being said with the aid of a loudspeaker.
Matthew was able to decipher the laughter after a while, and it was only then that he realized it wasn't a laugh. Rather, it was more like a chant.
"Kolkolkolkol," the tall boy, whose name, if Matthew was right, was Ivan, said.
Matthew felt a shiver crawl up his spine. He felt fear grip his heart. He felt trapped and alone and very much afraid.
This Ivan Braginski was not an ordinary camper.
No, he was one hell of a camper. Perhaps too literally for anyone to handle.
Anyone except the seemingly suicidal Alfred.
"Do I hear a challenge?" he said, his voice cutting through the tension that had enveloped the room.
Ivan stood up and said, maniacal grin in place, "Indeed you do, Mister Jones."
"Call me King, challenger, and I'll show you who's boss!"
Lovingly Untitled [4.2/n]
anonymous
May 16 2009, 15:08:02 UTC
Alfred laughed, and Ivan continued with his mysterious "kolkolkol" (which, Matthew hoped, would be forever a mystery). They continued with their bravado until the main doors of the dining hall opened with a bang. Yao strode into the room with all the anger of a distrubed head camp counselor that he could muster. Yong Soo followed him with a skip in his step.
"Heaven totally has, like, no rage like a Chinaman that's been super scorned," the noisy blond in Matthew's table said.
"I think you're making the wrong word play, Feliks," the brunet kneeling beisde the blond said.
"That's it!" Yao said. "You," he pointed Alfred, "and you," he pointed Ivan, "will have to clean this whole mess up. Everyone else out of the hall and I better not see anyone loitering around. And maybe someone else will have to stay to clean this up along with the two of them."
The hall was cleared out in a matter of seconds. It was a mad rush to get out the doors. It was like a stampede.
Matthew had been pushed and pulled. He had been squished and jabbed.
... And he had been left behind.
"Look, hyung, someone's volunteered!" Yong Soo said as he gestured to Matthew who was just about to go out of the hall.
"Um, I'm not really," Matthew tried to say.
"Good boy!" Yao said. "Come here and start cleaning with them."
When he was given a wash cloth, Matthew was sure that he was cursed. Still, he began wiping the dirt off the table.
"Hey, it's cool that you've come to help us!" Alfred said. "What's your name again?"
"It's Matthew," he mumbled.
"Come again?"
"I've been telling you the whole day that my name's Matthew!"
Alfred blinked before frowning and saying, "Gee, what crawled up your ass and died?"
Matthew hit his head on the table. Tears threatened to leak out of his eyes. What was that outburst right there? Sure, Alfred had consistently forgotten his name, but that wasn't enough for him to snap back at the guy.
And, sure, he'd wanted to get Alfred's attention, but certainly not that way. To think that they would be living for around a month, too!
"I'm sorry, it's just that--" he said.
"Yeah, yeah, it's no biggie," Alfred said. "My name's Alfred. The hulk over there's Ivan." Ivan stopped his work to look at Matthew and give him a less psycopathic-looking smile than the one before.
Matthew was beginning to think that Alfred had some sort of multiple personality disorder (and that Ivan was the scariest person close to his age that he'd ever met). Either that or he suffered from some short-term memory problem. Still, Matthew replied, "It's nice meeting you. I'm your roommate by the way."
Re: Lovingly Untitled [4.2/n]
anonymous
May 17 2009, 06:12:15 UTC
Parental interaction approved!!
Poor Mattie's going to have to deal with being ignored all the time isn't he? I wonder how Alfred is going to reign in his bravado when they switch....Can't wait for it!!!!
Re: Lovingly Untitled [4.2/n]
anonymous
May 17 2009, 09:20:52 UTC
I love this fic so much OP! The characterizations are brilliant and adorable, and I just want to hug both the bros <33 also you should be aware that 'Chinaman' is kind of an offensive term. I'm sure you didn't mean anything mean with it, but maybe next time use 'Chinese man' or something?
Re: Lovingly Untitled [4.2/n]
anonymous
May 17 2009, 12:17:55 UTC
T-Thank you also anon!
This anon is also somewhat aware of that, but anon thought that dear old Feliks wouldn't know this, having never pegged him as that kind of thoughtful type. But, still, thank you for pointing it out and will follow your advice. ♥
The instant Alfred got assigned to his cottage, which regrettably did not have Ludwig in it, the first thing he did was find his cellphone in the mess that was the inside of his luggages. He threw his clothes everywhere as he dug through his suitcase. When, even after emptying the contents of his suitcase, he still didn't find his phone, he raked his hair with his hand and his eyebrows furrowed. Where could he have put the damn thing?
He stood up straight and faced the door, ready to go out again. He would try to find his phone another time. He could probably borrow Ludwig's phone and call his papa from there.
He went outside his cottage and put his hands inside his pocket.
He blinked.
He looked at his right pocket. His right hand gripped something hard and smooth. He took out what his right hand was holding.
He found himself blinking yet again as he looked at his phone.
Being the man that he was, he laughed and began to dial his papa. He went back inside his cottage and sat on his -- or at least what he'd claimed as his -- bed. He just knew that he should've checked the most obvious place before rummaging through his bags.
"Hello, papa?" Alfred asked, though it sounded more of a statement when he said it, as soon as he heard the phone on the other end click to life.
There was a chuckle on the other end of the phone. "Hello, Alfred," Francis said.
"Camp's going to be so cool! And I saw Ludwig and Kiku, and I have some pretty awesome new friends now. Did you know that Uncle Antonio's super young cousins are here too?"
Francis found himself smiling. There was just something in the way that Alfred talked that made him feel so happy inside. The boy was special, he'd tell himself and everyone he knew. Really special. That boy was his.
"Isn't Alfred such a nice name, frog?"
"You just picked it out from the baby book, didn't you, rosbif? Give more consideration to our child's name."
"You can name the other baby."
"Hey, papa, are you listening?" Alfred asked.
Francis blinked. He missed a beat before he said, "Ah, I'm sorry, Alfred. Could you repeat that again? Papa's been busy, see?"
He could practically see his son pout over the phone. He couldn't help but chuckle.
"Fine. Fine. I'll just leave you to your work then," Alfred said like the adorably petulant child that he was.
"Non, mon petit. I will have you tell me more. I'll listen this time."
"Promise?"
"Promise." The smile on his face returned. Alfred was really too cute a kid. Even though he really was closer to being a teenager than an actual kid.
"If you say so then."
Alfred continued with his animated chatter, never quite running out of words to spill out of his mouth. The pauses he made to take back his breath were used by Francis to comment or freely chuckle.
It was around the time when Alfred was saying something about Ludwig being a spoilsport that his housemate came inside the cottage. This housemate went inside the room quietly, and would've probably been totally unnoticed by Alfred if it wasn't for the rusty hinges of the door or the creaky floorboards.
"G-Good morning, my name's--"
Matthew blinked. He was greeted by Alfred's blinding smile.
"Oh, hey papa! My roomie's here," Alfred exclaimed.
"What's your roommate like?" Francis asked.
"Wait." He looked at Matthew and asked him, "Who are you?"
"Oh, um, we met a while ago. Er, your name was Alfred and--" Matthew started to say.
"He's got this funny hair, papa! You know? It actually somewhat reminds me of your hair when you let it down. I wonder when you're going to cut your hair, papa. You'll start to look really girly if you let it any longer."
"I-I already said that my name was Matthew." His voice became softer and softer as he spoke.
He sighed at the end.
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He pulled his luggage in, careful not to step on any of Alfred's clothes, and began to unpack as quietly as he could, making sure not to bother Alfred's conversation. Not that Matthew had to try or anything. Alfred was already doing fine with ignoring him. Just like everyone he'd ever met and never talked to on a daily basis.
Matthew let out a sigh.
He was doomed to spend the entirety of his life being forgotten by everyone he ever introduced himself to after two minutes. Might as well call him the famed Invisible Man of Wells.
He sneaked a glance at his roommate.
It must've been a really important call though because no one could seriously look as happy as that if they weren't talking to someone close to them.
Matthew smiled and went back to what he was doing.
Even if Alfred would most likely forget about him more than just half of the time, at least the guy wasn't impossible to get along with. Or so Matthew hoped since the last thing his incredibly timid self needed was a jerk of a roommate.
When he finished putting away all of his things in what he deemed was an orderly manner, he sat on his own bed, only to see that Alfred was still talking on the phone. It was an endearing sight, really, but long-distance calls were expensive things, weren't they? Also, it seemed as if an incredibly long time had passed since Alfred started his conversation.
It was mind-boggling the way Alfred kept on calling whoever was on the other side of the phone to someone like Matthew who had been raised by someone who was both a pocket-pinching parent and a time-conscious individual.
They had the money, his father would say, but that didn't mean they had to spend it all on one go. Or that they had to spend it at all. And his father would look at the time after he said that.
Perhaps Alfred hadn't talked to this person for a while.
Perhaps, Matthew thought, it wasn't his business
He stood up from his bed and decided to head out. Exploring was probably better than being cooped up in a place where he couldn't do anything or where the other living, breathing individual in the room practically couldn't even see him.
He could certainly try getting Alfred's attention later on and finally properly introducing himself. They would be, after all, living together for a whole month and it would be simply silly for his own roommate not to know at least his name.
His own optimism made him cheer up. Things were going to be fine.
Still, he found himself fishing his phone out of his pocket and dialing his father's number, hoping that he wasn't being a bother.
"Thank goodness you called Matthew! I was beginning to worry if you hadn't arrived there," was his father's greeting.
"Good morning, father," Matthew said with a smile on his face. "I hope I'm not bothering you."
"Nonsense! So how are things so far? No one's bullying you, right?"
"I have a roommate and..." Matthew was stuck struggling with his words for about a second or two. "... I think I'll be fine."
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Then, faster than anyone could say "Hey there's the ice cream man!", the whole dining hall was in chaos.
Chairs had been pushed to make way. Faces were becoming indistinguishable. No one was your friend.
Food flew through the air.
Matthew had followed the actions of his tablemates which was how he found himself under the table, safe from the food flinging and the water warring. Though, as tense as he was, he couldn't help but feel some sort of adrenalin rush. It was, after all, the first time he'd ever seen a food fight. He would probably never want to participate in it after this trauma, but at least he'd gotten to see one.
He heard a laugh. It was a boisterous laugh. It was a laugh that overpowered all noises.
It was a laugh that compelled him to look out from his safety zone.
He looked around for the source of the laughter and saw Alfred standing on top of a chair that was on top of a table.
His left hand was on his hip and his other hand was holding a plate of mashed potatoes. He was laughing amidst all of the chaos. He was, if Matthew was so inclined to think (which he probably was at that point), nuts. Batshit crazy, as those wacky cartoons Matthew had once upon a time had a chance to watch, even.
"I claim the title of Food Fight King!" he exclaimed.
He threw his mashed potatoes, plastic plate and all, as far as he could. It so conveniently landed on an incredibly tall, scarf-wearing boy who was the only person that was calmly sitting on his chair and eating his food. The mashed potatoes had landed on the top of his fair-colored hair.
The smile on his face widened. Exponentially.
Matthew's eyes widened, and he was sure that the eyes of everyone else in the room, possibly with the exception of the currently batshit crazy Alfred, widened. The room grew silent. Eerily silent. Almost as if someone had put a muffler on every mouth in the room.
Soon, they heard laughter. It was soft, but the silence shrouding the room made it seem as if it was being said with the aid of a loudspeaker.
Matthew was able to decipher the laughter after a while, and it was only then that he realized it wasn't a laugh. Rather, it was more like a chant.
"Kolkolkolkol," the tall boy, whose name, if Matthew was right, was Ivan, said.
Matthew felt a shiver crawl up his spine. He felt fear grip his heart. He felt trapped and alone and very much afraid.
This Ivan Braginski was not an ordinary camper.
No, he was one hell of a camper. Perhaps too literally for anyone to handle.
Anyone except the seemingly suicidal Alfred.
"Do I hear a challenge?" he said, his voice cutting through the tension that had enveloped the room.
Ivan stood up and said, maniacal grin in place, "Indeed you do, Mister Jones."
"Call me King, challenger, and I'll show you who's boss!"
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"Heaven totally has, like, no rage like a Chinaman that's been super scorned," the noisy blond in Matthew's table said.
"I think you're making the wrong word play, Feliks," the brunet kneeling beisde the blond said.
"That's it!" Yao said. "You," he pointed Alfred, "and you," he pointed Ivan, "will have to clean this whole mess up. Everyone else out of the hall and I better not see anyone loitering around. And maybe someone else will have to stay to clean this up along with the two of them."
The hall was cleared out in a matter of seconds. It was a mad rush to get out the doors. It was like a stampede.
Matthew had been pushed and pulled. He had been squished and jabbed.
... And he had been left behind.
"Look, hyung, someone's volunteered!" Yong Soo said as he gestured to Matthew who was just about to go out of the hall.
"Um, I'm not really," Matthew tried to say.
"Good boy!" Yao said. "Come here and start cleaning with them."
When he was given a wash cloth, Matthew was sure that he was cursed. Still, he began wiping the dirt off the table.
"Hey, it's cool that you've come to help us!" Alfred said. "What's your name again?"
"It's Matthew," he mumbled.
"Come again?"
"I've been telling you the whole day that my name's Matthew!"
Alfred blinked before frowning and saying, "Gee, what crawled up your ass and died?"
Matthew hit his head on the table. Tears threatened to leak out of his eyes. What was that outburst right there? Sure, Alfred had consistently forgotten his name, but that wasn't enough for him to snap back at the guy.
And, sure, he'd wanted to get Alfred's attention, but certainly not that way. To think that they would be living for around a month, too!
"I'm sorry, it's just that--" he said.
"Yeah, yeah, it's no biggie," Alfred said. "My name's Alfred. The hulk over there's Ivan." Ivan stopped his work to look at Matthew and give him a less psycopathic-looking smile than the one before.
Matthew was beginning to think that Alfred had some sort of multiple personality disorder (and that Ivan was the scariest person close to his age that he'd ever met). Either that or he suffered from some short-term memory problem. Still, Matthew replied, "It's nice meeting you. I'm your roommate by the way."
"Wow! That's so cool!"
It was almost as if they met for the first time.
Matthew wanted to cry.
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FFFF. OTL
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And Alfred vs Ivan food fight = win.
I look forward to reading more :D
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Thank you~! Secretly, this is the fill's Cold War version.
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Also, anon you just about killed me when Ivan got hit. XD My cat must think I'm crazy now, for just randomly laughing out loud like that.
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Poor Mattie's going to have to deal with being ignored all the time isn't he? I wonder how Alfred is going to reign in his bravado when they switch....Can't wait for it!!!!
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It sure seems like it. ._.
A-Also. Alfred. Well. Well.
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also you should be aware that 'Chinaman' is kind of an offensive term. I'm sure you didn't mean anything mean with it, but maybe next time use 'Chinese man' or something?
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This anon is also somewhat aware of that, but anon thought that dear old Feliks wouldn't know this, having never pegged him as that kind of thoughtful type. But, still, thank you for pointing it out and will follow your advice. ♥
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