The Trouble With Americans...: Chapter 8
Title: The Trouble With Americans...
Fandom: Hetalia
Pairings/Characters: Kiku, Alfred, Feliciano, Feliks
Rating: PG
Warnings: offensive stereotyping, racial humor, offensive ethnic jokes, profanity, and generally Alfred just being an ignorant American.
Summary: Highschool AU. The exploration of the strange friendship between a studious Japanese boy and a rowdy, loud-mouthed blond American. Pre-slash. Eventual Alfred/Kiku
Chapter 1: Ethnicity
Chapter 2: Disipline
Chapter 3: Math
Chapter 4: BDSM
Chapter 5: Female
Chapter 6: No homo
Chapter 7: Geography
The Trouble With Americans...
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8. like:
adjective: to take pleasure in; find agreeable or congenial.
adverb: in the same way as; just as; as.
So, do you like, like him, or like him like him?
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Kiku was sitting quietly in Spanish, just like he did any other day. The worksheet on his desk was-for once-completed, and there was a mechanical pencil neatly placed at the top. Today, his socks matched, he hadn't forgotten his notebook, and he hadn't tripped up the stairs. Even better, there wasn't a piece of chewing gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe. Why was it, then, that Kiku was no happier than the day before?
He glared at the empty seat in front of him. He looked around the classroom. The same old, loud, stupid neanderthals. He stared pointedly at the door. Minutes ticked by. He huffed, and went back to glaring.
"Dude, are you like, sure you're okay?"
Kiku turned. It was Feliks. He managed a weak smile and nodded. "I'm fine, why do you ask?"
"Well, cause like, that was like the third time I asked, and like-this is the first time you said anything!"
Kiku sheepishly rubbed the nape of his neck. He stopped. That wasn't a nervous habit Kiku had ever noticed in himself before.
"I'm fine, just tired." He turned back to face the blackboard. He laid his head flat against the desk. It appeared Mr. Hernandez was done teaching for the day. Of course. Kiku had almost drifted off into a beautiful, dreamless sleep, when a high-pitched voice brought him back to reality.
"Soooo, do you like, always look super mad when you're tired?" Kiku wasn't sure how to respond. He certainly wasn't angry.
"Or is this 'cause Alfred isn't here?" He hadn't considered the thought before. Kiku considered it. Was Alfred's absence the reason he was feeling so down-hearted? Alfred was his only friend (Kiku was even hesitant to call him that much) but really, Kiku didn't need friends. He certainly didn't need loud, classless, ill-mannered ones-
The classroom door slammed open and Kiku's head swiveled in the direction of the door so fast his hair was left to dramatically trail behind him. It was the counselor. Mr. Hernandez walked over and began to talk with her. He couldn't help but feel disappointed.
Kiku turned back to Feliks. It was only then that he noticed Feliciano was absent. That explained why Feliks was becoming suddenly concerned with Kiku's personal life.
"Why would this have anything to do with Alfred? I told you, I'm just tired."
"So what's up with you two anyway?" Feliks continued. "You don't just like him, you like, like him like him, don't you?"
Kiku stared. His jaw almost dropped. He literally did not understand a word that Feliks had just said. To him it had simply sounded like a blur of the word "like." Kiku felt uncomfortable, and embarrassed that he still wasn't proficient enough in English to understand the native English speakers.
Feliks gave him a strange look that he didn't understand. He wiggled his eyebrows. Then he said, "So do you?"
And Kiku was to embarrassed to ask him to repeat to the question, so instead, he just shrugged and muttered, "I suppose so." Feliks' eyes widened. "I d-didn't th-think, you like, you like-" his words trailed off into girlish laughter.
Kiku was beginning to think that perhaps he'd given the blond the wrong answer.