(no subject)
Title: The bookshop adventure.
Fandom: Hetalia.
Genre: Friendship.
Characters:Arthur and Alfred.
Warning/Ratings: Teen, foul language, violence and very slight crushing. School AU.
They were perhaps one of the most mismatched pairs of students to room together in the exclusive international boarding school's history. Arthur was short (he preferred the word 'compact', but everyone else called him short), grumpy and very academic to the point where his classmate suspected it was a life-or-death matter in the fiery Brit's mind. Alfred was a tall, powerful, easy-going American who was utterly incapable of tact and at fifteen was the star player in every sports team going.
'Whatcha doin' Artie?' Alfred demanded, tossing his cleats by the door and throwing himself onto Arthur's bed.
Al was promptly hit on the head with his roomie's heavy hardcover copy of 'a la recherche du temps perdu' while Arthur had a moment of linguistic confusion before he settled back into his native language. 'Bloody Hell Alfred! Get the fuck off my bed you disgusting sweaty bastard! Bugger off and shower before I kick your arse!'
Alfred just laughed and messed up Arthur hair as he got up. 'Sure, sure. Don't get your panties in a bunch, dude.'
Arthur scowled at the cocky Yank's back as Alfred grabbed his towel and washkit, heading off to the showers. Arthur sighed and returned to the world of Proust's memories. He was only learning French to insult Francis in his native language, not because he loved the sound of the language, honest.
'Anyway, Artie.' Alfred continued ten minutes later as he donned a pair of fashionably distressed jeans that Arthur suspected had been stolen from a vagrant. 'I gotta go inta town to pick up Mister McKlusky's recommended text from the bookstore. Come with me, you're turnin' into a real shut-in.'
Arthur looked up to snap at Alfred for wasting his time, but when he met those clear blue eyes he couldn't do it. 'Alright then. I did want to pick up those books I ordered from them last week.' He was only doing it for his copy of Bleak House and to see if they'd got the Mayor of Casterbridge in already.
They walked together fairly companiably - Arthur was only scowling slightly and Alfred managed to go two whole minutes without accidentally offending his prickly friend. They should have known if it was too good to last.
Alfred watched Arthur at the bookstore, paying for his books and talking to the counter girl about some guy called Karmazob. Arthur smiled gently at the girl and tossed out some bon mot in a foreign language that made her blush and smile at him. Alfed didn't like that.
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'C'mon Artie! We gotta go!' he grabbed the guy as soon as Arthur had picked up his shopping bag, yanking him away.
'I know a shortcut, c'mon it's nearly dinner-time.' Alfred dragged Arthur away from the broad street that wound back to the school.
'I don't know about that.' Arthur objected, digging his heels in as he saw the narrow alley leading straight through one of the dodgier areas of town.
'Ah quit bein' such a pussy, Arthur. I allus knew you were a wuss!' Alfred goaded him, gloating when Arthur threw off Alfred's grip and defiantly marched straight down the short-cut. Alfred even had to lengthen his stride to keep up as Arthur stroke off, elbows viciously jabbing the air.
As they reached the end of the narrow street the two youths realised it was being blocked off by a gang of youths who were smoking and leaning against the big industrial bin the shops on the next street used. One guy grinned and pushed away from the bin, looking Arthur up and down.
'Well lookit this. Two proper little toffs. Looks like you princesses are lost.' The ringleader said, cracking his knuckles threateningly. 'Posh bastids like you don't belong 'round here. We gonna show'em wot happens to nancy-boys who come poncin' about on our turf?'
The rest of the young thugs laughed menacingly as the surrounded the pair and Alfred looked down at his mate in concern. There were too many of them for him to fight while still protecting his cerebral friend.
'Oh yeah? Why don't you come over and that that, you big fairy?' Arthur demanded, his comically big eyebrows bristling together in a menacing frown.
'We're gonna die.' Alfred thought as the circle closed in on them, right before Arthur surged forward towards the gang boss and promptly kicked him in the balls and then kneed him in the face as the guy doubled over. He dropped like a stone and didn't move.
'Right! Who else wants some?' Arthur demanded wildly, lunging at another guy and kicking him hard in the kneecap while he was frozen in shock at how quickly the arsey scholar had taken down their leader. Blood splattered acorss Arthur's cheek as he elbowed the guy in the face as he collapsed. The other five youths ran away, abandoning their fallen comrades to their fates.
Arthur pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the blood off, fastidiously straightening his cuffs after he returned his handkerchief to its customary pocket. He was cool as a cucumber and noticed Alfred's open-mouthed incredulity. 'Basic human psychology. Take out the leader in a show of force and the rest will crumble. I knocked out his right-hand man just to make the point it wasn't a fluke. Oh dear.' He noticed his bag and hurriedly picked it up, fussing as if the books inside might be offended by the way he'd thrown them to the ground. He saw Alfred still agape. 'What? I've got three big brothers and shut your mouth, you're catching flies.'
Alfred trailed along after Arthur dazedly. He was a bit scared by his room-mate's hidden psychotic depths, but he also had to hold his carrier bag in front of him as he followed Arthur back to school. It was all very confusing.
Fandom: Hetalia.
Genre: Friendship.
Characters:Arthur and Alfred.
Warning/Ratings: Teen, foul language, violence and very slight crushing. School AU.
They were perhaps one of the most mismatched pairs of students to room together in the exclusive international boarding school's history. Arthur was short (he preferred the word 'compact', but everyone else called him short), grumpy and very academic to the point where his classmate suspected it was a life-or-death matter in the fiery Brit's mind. Alfred was a tall, powerful, easy-going American who was utterly incapable of tact and at fifteen was the star player in every sports team going.
'Whatcha doin' Artie?' Alfred demanded, tossing his cleats by the door and throwing himself onto Arthur's bed.
Al was promptly hit on the head with his roomie's heavy hardcover copy of 'a la recherche du temps perdu' while Arthur had a moment of linguistic confusion before he settled back into his native language. 'Bloody Hell Alfred! Get the fuck off my bed you disgusting sweaty bastard! Bugger off and shower before I kick your arse!'
Alfred just laughed and messed up Arthur hair as he got up. 'Sure, sure. Don't get your panties in a bunch, dude.'
Arthur scowled at the cocky Yank's back as Alfred grabbed his towel and washkit, heading off to the showers. Arthur sighed and returned to the world of Proust's memories. He was only learning French to insult Francis in his native language, not because he loved the sound of the language, honest.
'Anyway, Artie.' Alfred continued ten minutes later as he donned a pair of fashionably distressed jeans that Arthur suspected had been stolen from a vagrant. 'I gotta go inta town to pick up Mister McKlusky's recommended text from the bookstore. Come with me, you're turnin' into a real shut-in.'
Arthur looked up to snap at Alfred for wasting his time, but when he met those clear blue eyes he couldn't do it. 'Alright then. I did want to pick up those books I ordered from them last week.' He was only doing it for his copy of Bleak House and to see if they'd got the Mayor of Casterbridge in already.
They walked together fairly companiably - Arthur was only scowling slightly and Alfred managed to go two whole minutes without accidentally offending his prickly friend. They should have known if it was too good to last.
Alfred watched Arthur at the bookstore, paying for his books and talking to the counter girl about some guy called Karmazob. Arthur smiled gently at the girl and tossed out some bon mot in a foreign language that made her blush and smile at him. Alfed didn't like that.
r
'C'mon Artie! We gotta go!' he grabbed the guy as soon as Arthur had picked up his shopping bag, yanking him away.
'I know a shortcut, c'mon it's nearly dinner-time.' Alfred dragged Arthur away from the broad street that wound back to the school.
'I don't know about that.' Arthur objected, digging his heels in as he saw the narrow alley leading straight through one of the dodgier areas of town.
'Ah quit bein' such a pussy, Arthur. I allus knew you were a wuss!' Alfred goaded him, gloating when Arthur threw off Alfred's grip and defiantly marched straight down the short-cut. Alfred even had to lengthen his stride to keep up as Arthur stroke off, elbows viciously jabbing the air.
As they reached the end of the narrow street the two youths realised it was being blocked off by a gang of youths who were smoking and leaning against the big industrial bin the shops on the next street used. One guy grinned and pushed away from the bin, looking Arthur up and down.
'Well lookit this. Two proper little toffs. Looks like you princesses are lost.' The ringleader said, cracking his knuckles threateningly. 'Posh bastids like you don't belong 'round here. We gonna show'em wot happens to nancy-boys who come poncin' about on our turf?'
The rest of the young thugs laughed menacingly as the surrounded the pair and Alfred looked down at his mate in concern. There were too many of them for him to fight while still protecting his cerebral friend.
'Oh yeah? Why don't you come over and that that, you big fairy?' Arthur demanded, his comically big eyebrows bristling together in a menacing frown.
'We're gonna die.' Alfred thought as the circle closed in on them, right before Arthur surged forward towards the gang boss and promptly kicked him in the balls and then kneed him in the face as the guy doubled over. He dropped like a stone and didn't move.
'Right! Who else wants some?' Arthur demanded wildly, lunging at another guy and kicking him hard in the kneecap while he was frozen in shock at how quickly the arsey scholar had taken down their leader. Blood splattered acorss Arthur's cheek as he elbowed the guy in the face as he collapsed. The other five youths ran away, abandoning their fallen comrades to their fates.
Arthur pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the blood off, fastidiously straightening his cuffs after he returned his handkerchief to its customary pocket. He was cool as a cucumber and noticed Alfred's open-mouthed incredulity. 'Basic human psychology. Take out the leader in a show of force and the rest will crumble. I knocked out his right-hand man just to make the point it wasn't a fluke. Oh dear.' He noticed his bag and hurriedly picked it up, fussing as if the books inside might be offended by the way he'd thrown them to the ground. He saw Alfred still agape. 'What? I've got three big brothers and shut your mouth, you're catching flies.'
Alfred trailed along after Arthur dazedly. He was a bit scared by his room-mate's hidden psychotic depths, but he also had to hold his carrier bag in front of him as he followed Arthur back to school. It was all very confusing.