Hetalia - On London's Stage [3/12]
“Al? Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” Alfred glanced up from his Nintendo DS, before shaking his head. “Have you even had anything to eat today…?”
“Yes Mom,” he rolled his eyes, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at his brother. “I reheated some left over pizza while you were in the shower. Now go on and have fun with the others!”
“But…”
“I’m fine.” He was anything but fine, but he didn’t want Matthew to worry. That’s all his brother had been doing since he had come home Saturday night with a black eye. His twin was still convinced that Alfred had gotten into a fist fight with someone, his leading suspicion being Arthur. Of course, the American was far too proud to admit he had gotten hurt because he had hit himself in the face with one of the prop weapons while he and Yong Soo had been fooling around. He peered to the side sighing heavily when he saw the worried look on his brothers’ face. “If I come with you guys will you stop worrying?”
“I-I’m not worrying! It’s just…” Matthew shifted, glancing off to the side. “Normally you go to that theater every day… But you haven’t gone since Saturday…”
And today was Wednesday, their second week in London. With a sigh Alfred returned his gaze to his DS, poking at the screen and ordering his Pokémon to attack. That was right; he hadn’t been to the theatre since Saturday, since he had gotten that black eye while fooling around with Yong Soo, since he had gotten into an argument with Arthur…
He had to cringe at that memory. It had started out with a simple question. Alfred had just wanted to know what ‘frattelo’ meant. But Arthur had suddenly become defensive. So the American had gone to Feliciano, the Italian happily answering his question. The word meant ‘brother’. This lead to more questions naturally. But when Alfred had tried to ask Arthur, the Brit had become incredibly defensive. And then, well, then they were screaming at one another. Alfred couldn’t remember necessarily what; all he did remember were that the words cut deep. Yao had attempted to intervene, to make some sort of peace between the two. But the damage had already been done. Arthur had told Alfred to ‘get the fuck lost and don’t come back’ while Alfred told him ‘go to hell’.
That had been Wednesday. And since then, Alfred had been firmly set on not returning to the theatre. Not until Arthur apologized. But his phone had remained silent. The American had to restrain himself from texting the Brit randomly like he normally did, just to receive an irritable response, which would only lead to Arthur asking Alfred when he would be getting to the theatre. He couldn’t do that. Not until he got an apology! And if he was to text the Brit, then he would need to apologize! And he hadn’t done anything! He had just asked Arthur a few questions!
… Alright… Maybe he has pestered him. But still! There was no need for Arthur to explode on him like that!
“Al?”
“Ah! Sorry Mattie, uh, tough boss fight!” His brother didn’t buy his lie, but he didn’t push it. Alfred was grateful for that.
“Please come along? You’ve been hauled up in your room… We’re all worried.” At this, Alfred released a frustrated groan before he saved, shutting his DS off and snapping it shut.
“Alright, so where’re we goin’?” He could see his brothers eyes light up in excitement. And his relief was clear on his face. Alfred couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt. He hadn’t realized how worry his brother actually had been. Or any of them actually, as he was met with surprised and relieved looks when he followed Matthew downstairs to the lobby of their hotel.
“Ah! Comrade Jones is joining us?” His eye twitched as he gave the Russian student a small glare. Ivan knew he didn’t like being called that. He had told the Russian specifically.
He was pretty sure Ivan did it to piss him off.
“I told you Braginsky, don-”
“Ah! Alfred has finally stopped his sulking?” A familiar French voice cut him off, and soon arms had wrapped around his shoulders, a familiar bearded chin resting on his shoulder. “Honestly cher, you should have come to me for advice.”
“Or me amigo!” Antonio had bounced right over to them, Gilbert not too far behind. “At least then we could’ve helped you get ready for heart break!”
“Let me guess, Mr. Stage Manager wasn’t into guys?” The last member of the infamous Bad Friends Trio (as they’d come to be known amongst the trip goers) chirped, a sly smirk on his lips. “I think we need to take Jones in here to get his gaydar fixed.”
“Hee~ Look at him! He’s turning red as a tomato!”
“Sh-Shut up! I didn’t like Arthur like that!” Alfred shot away from the three, crossing his arms in front of his face like an ‘x’ to keep them away. “Mind your own damn business!”
“But that’s no fun.” Was Gilbert’s simple retort, while Francis rolled his eyes, turning to speak with the Spanish member of their trio. Scowling the American stomped over to his brother, who was shyly standing next to Katyusha. Ivan wasn’t too far behind, and from the way Matthew shifted, he was sure that the Russian was sending him the iciest glare he could manage.
“We should get going,” came a curt voice, Alfred’s eyes landing on Gilbert’s more stoic younger brother. Ludwig was glancing at them all, most likely feeling incredibly out of placed as one hand smoothed over his slicked back blond hair. Gilbert bounced forward, slinging his arm around the younger of the Germans.
“Right! Lead the way West!”
And like that, they were off. Shoving his hands in his pockets Alfred trailed behind the group. He kept silent while they walked, going someplace (he hadn’t been paying attention when Ludwig had told him). In the front of the group was Francis, Gilbert and Antonio, they three friends chattering away loudly in a mix of French, German and Spanish. And yet, none of them seemed to have any problems, their native tongues mixing together in a lovely melody. Behind those three were Katyusha and Matthew, walking with laced hands. The Ukrainian student was chattering away happily, his twin meanwhile blushing madly, looking off to the side in a shy manner. And much to Alfred’s surprise, Ivan didn’t seem ready to maul his brother for even being within a foot of his older sister. No instead, he was chattering away about… Something, with Ludwig.
Alfred all the while remained uncharacteristically quiet, looking around the group of students. People he had known for years. Who he had gone on these sort of trips with before. Some who he had known practically his entire life…
“We’re quite the group, aren’t we? Misfits that found a place to thrive amongst one another.”
Arthur’s words filtered back into his mind. Alfred remembered them well, remembered watching Arthur’s expression soften as he spoke. How his troupe mates had been completely oblivious. Alfred could remember feeling as if only he and Arthur had been there, as if he had been intruding on something sacred. How he had felt like an outcast amongst a group of misfits in that theatre.
Now, looking at a group of people he had known for years, he couldn’t help but feel like an outcast amongst them as well.
Just where did he belong…?
“Comrade~” His eye twitched, especially upon seeing a sly smirk beneath the Russian’s smiling mask. Oh he so did that to annoy him! He so did! “You are falling behind… Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, everything’s just peachy.” He bit out, looking passed the giant. And he had to agree with Ivan. They had fallen behind quite a bit. “… Why’d you stop and wait for me…? Shouldn’t you be threatening Mattie for holding your sisters hand?”
An actual pout crossed the Russian’s face as they walked side-by-side. “Da, I should. But sister asked me to be nice, as she cares for him… And if he makes Katyusha happy, I should be happy for her. But if he breaks her heart…”
“Then I tackle and restrain you so Mattie can get a head start.” They both laughed at that, Alfred feeling his usual grin returning. He felt grateful for the company now, even if it was from someone who he was quite sure went out of their way to annoy him. “Where are we going anyways?”
Ivan shrugged, idly fixing his scarf. “I didn’t hear Ludwig when he told us. And Gilbert wouldn’t tell me.”
“Well that’s totally not suspicious at all.” Ivan hummed in agreement. Alfred sighed, running a hand through his hair. The rest of the group was getting further and further ahead. But at least they were still in sight.
Actually, now that he was looking around opposed to staring at the ground… He couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of déjà vu…
And the rain beginning definitely did not help.
“We should take shelter.” Ivan’s large hand landed on his shoulder, the Russian beginning to steer him towards a familiar building. Alfred felt his stomach drop, digging his sneakers into the paved ground. No. He wasn’t going in there. He didn’t care how hard the rain fell! He wouldn’t!
“Bu-But the others! We should cat-”
“They will be taking shelter as well,” Ivan blinked in confusion, cocking his head to one side as he looked between Ivan and the building. Then that sly smile returned, the Russia continuing to pull him towards the building. “What’s wrong Comrade Jones~ Don’t you like theaters?”
“Ivan, I swear to God… Le-Let’s just go catch up with the others and hide out with them!”
“Nyet.” And just like that, Alfred was pulled into the theater he had been avoiding like the plague. At least until he received an apology from a certain prickly Brit. Shoulders slumped he tried to hide behind his larger companion, not prepared at all to deal with Arthur. “Hello? Is anybo-”
“Shh!” A sharp hiss cut off Ivan’s childish voice. An unfamiliar one at that. Slowly Alfred peeked out from behind the Russian student, one eyebrow quirking up. A young woman was standing on the stage, her long brown hair pushed back by a flower. She was frowning at them both, a blanket draped over her arm. Blinking almost owlishly, he came out from behind Ivan, but what he was about to say became caught in his throat as he caught sight of who else was on the stage.
A familiar blond was lying on the stage, curled up like a cat amongst various props and costume pieces. The woman that had been scowling at them followed Alfred’s gaze, landing on the slumbering stage manager. He could hear her release a soft sigh, shaking the blanket out before laying it over Arthur’s slumbering form. “Theater’s closed.
“It’s raining.” She blinked at that, pushing her bangs back thoughtfully.
“Oh… Well I guess if that’s the case…” Her frown had faded and she gestured for them to come closer, a finger on her lips. “Just keep quiet. As you can see, our stage manager finally gave into sleep.”
“Finally!?” Alfred couldn’t keep from speaking up, rushing passed Ivan and down the aisle. “Is Arthur okay!?”
The woman blinked, looking between the worried America and the sleeping Brit. “Er… Well sorta. He’s just been pulling a few all-nighters since Saturday… How do you know Arthur?”
“That’s that American he told you about,” Alfred craned his head back at the sudden voice, spotting Vash in the rafters fixing a light. The paintball gun-totting technician glared down at him. “Where the Hell have you been? Feliciano said you two got into a fight.”
“Ah… We did.” He smiled sheepishly, looking back towards Arthur. However, before he could say anything more, the brunette had jumped off the stage, pulling him into a bone crushing hug.
“So you’re Alfred! Oh my God! It’s so nice to finally meet you!” She was beaming, struggling to keep her voice down. “I’m Elizaveta, one of the actors.
“Oh, um, it’s really nice to meet you.” He blinked, surprised by the reaction.
“Who’s your friend?” Was the next question. Alfred glanced over his shoulder at the ever-smiling Ivan.
“That’s Ivan.” He turned his attention back to Elizaveta, about to speak when a sudden voice cut him off.
“Aiya! Elizaveta! Have you seen Yong Soo aru?”
“Sorry Yao, can’t say I have. And I told you to keep your voice down!” She hissed. The Chinese man rolled his eyes as he walked across the stage, blinking when he caught sight of Alfred.
“Ah! Alfred, you’re back aru!” A smile formed across the man’s face as he walked across the stage, being careful to keep his voice down. “We had all been sure Arthur had scared you off aru.”
“Nah… I just been busy…” That was a lie, but he really didn’t want to admit he had just been sulking around in his hotel room. Yao nodded, though from the look in his eyes the Chinese man didn’t buy it. If Alfred had learned anything from the few days he had known Yao, it was the man could see through any lie.
“Well, you’re just in time. If you wouldn’t mind, I need help…”
“What’s up…?” He couldn’t help letting his eyes drift back to the sleeping Arthur. He really didn’t feel like helping…
“I can help!” He jumped, surprised by Ivan’s sudden offer, the Russian already walking up the steps of the stage. Yao blinked a bit surprised as well by the look of it, but that look of surprise faded away into a soft smile.
“That would be greatly appreciated. Are you one of Alfred’s friends?”
Ivan peeked back towards Alfred, who just grinned. “Yup! Ivan, that’s Yao, Yao Ivan.”
“Well, it’s very nice to meet you Ivan.” Yao smiled still, taking one of the Russian’s larger hands and beginning to pull him off. Alfred snickered noticing the blush that had escaped the giant’s face. Oh he would so be teasing him later…
However, soon his attention landed back on Arthur. He hesitated for a moment, before speaking softly. “So he hasn’t been sleeping…?”
“Not a wink,” she said with a sigh, soon climbing back onto the stage and readjusting the blanket. “But we’re all pretty use to it. Arthur always stresses himself out when it comes down to the show… He always ends up having to do twice as much work because well… You met our stage crew.”
A bemused smiled formed across her face, the woman smoothing the blanket out, before managing to take a paintbrush out of Arthur’s hand. The Brit shifted slightly, rubbing his eyes before turning onto his side. Elizaveta laughed a little, brushing hair from his eyes, her eyes meeting Alfred’s. She looked ready to say something, but held off. Instead she returned her attention to Arthur, moving some of the props that were around him to one side. “Well… I should get back to helping backstage. Feel free to just hang around. Ah, and if any of the actors pester you just tell them Lizzy said you can stay.”
“Oh… Are you guys doin’ a rehearsing?” He had only ever been there when the stage crew had been working. The brunette smiled, nodding.
“But not for another hour.” She supplied, standing up and beginning to walk off stage. “I’ll see you Alfred!”
And just like that, Alfred was left alone with the slumbering Arthur.
Well this didn’t feel awkward at all. He looked around, wondering what he should do. Wishing that someone else would show up. But even Vash had vanished from the rafters. With a small sigh, Alfred climbed onto the stage, taking a seat near the sleeping blond. Idly he picked up one of the props, a chalice from the looks of it. Arthur had probably been in the process of painting it when he fell asleep…
With nothing else to really do, Alfred looked around for the paint and a brush. He spotted them on the other side of Arthur, and with a small shrug to himself, shifted positions, leaning over Arthur to reach them. He froze for a moment, hearing Arthur mumble in his sleep, the American looking down, his face turning bright red upon realizing how close he was to the other. He held his breath, trying to tell his body to just move, but instead he remained frozen, staring down at Arthur.
He looked so calm when he slept… Any irritation that Arthur generally held had faded away. The ever permanent scowl smoothed away into a content smile. Alfred was quiet, setting the chalice down, forgetting his original intention as he brushed his fingers against the slumbering blonds’ cheek. Arthur shifted, his face scrunching up something before it relaxed, leaning against Alfred’s fingers. And he smiled a little, brushing his thumb against the surprisingly soft skin. His heart beat against his chest, Alfred not being able to fight down a small smile.
Arthur really was beautiful when he wasn’t screaming at the American or someone…
He smiled, brushing hair out of Arthur’s eyes. He could feel his cheeks heating up, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t like anyone was there to see him, or tease him. And Arthur wouldn’t know…
“You’ve gotta take better care of yourself Arthur,” he murmured, running his fingers through the dirty blond locks. Arthur shifted again, his large eyebrows scrunching downward. Again he mumbled something that Alfred couldn’t make out, swatting at his hand. Alfred couldn’t fight down the chuckle, leaning away picking up the forgotten chalice and deciding to do what he had originally planned to do.
Elizaveta fluttered in and out occasionally, other people passing by him on the stage. At one point Feliciano took a seat beside him, the Italian remaining relatively quiet as they worked side by side. Yao passed by them later on, Ivan trailing behind him carrying various paint cans. And Alfred snickered again seeing the look the Russian had on his face. Oh yeah, teasing was so happening once they were done for the day.
Occasionally he and Feliciano spoke, but it was only brief whispered conversations. Both not wanting to wake Arthur up. The Italian had admitted that Arthur had not been sleeping well since the argument he and Alfred had had. And if anything, he seemed to throw himself even more into work. The brunet had no idea what the argument had been about though, and Alfred opted to just shrug, not divulging into the details.
It wasn’t until a small groan sounded, that the two paused in their work. Arthur shifted, rubbing the heels of his hands against his eyes, consciousness no doubt returning. The Brit shifted, stretching out is legs before finally sitting up, yawning widely as he rubbed sleep from his eyes. Alfred couldn’t help but grin, returning his eyes to the toy soldier he was painting (he wasn’t sure it was actually for the play, but Feliciano had asked him to paint it). “Mornin’ sleepy-head.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw Arthur go stone still. Alfred could feel tension creeping back. He turned his gaze, hoping Feliciano’s presence would defuse any future situation.
The Italian was gone. Alfred gulped, scanning the theatre for anyone. But no one was around. Well… Except Arthur…
“So uh-”
“What are you doing here?” Came the snap, Alfred cringed, despite having been expecting it. Looking back at the little soldier in his hand, he shrugged.
“I was passing by with my group. Started raining so Ivan dragged me in here before I could even see where we were doing… Oh um… ‘Lizzy said I can stay’.”
He heard the frustrated groan, and he could just picture the roll of green eyes. “’Course. It just had to be Elizaveta. Couldn’t have been Norway or anyone else.”
Alfred gave a sheepish smile, dipping his little brush into one of the blue paints. “Yeah well… It’s not like I wanna stay.”
“So why not leave?”
“Ivan’s helpin’ Yao out. I would feel bad leaving him.”
“Ivan… Isn’t that the Braginsky guy you’re always complaining about?” At the curious question, he risked glancing at Arthur. The Brit was rubbing his eyes, still looking a bit drowsy. The sharp emeralds were locked on him though, one bushy brow quirked up. Alfred smiled sheepishly, dragging the brushes bristles across the toy, watching the faded red color become a striking shade of blue.
“Yup, that’s him! He’s not too bad though…” Ivan really wasn’t as bad as Alfred had always thought. The American had gotten the wrong impression of him when they had first met two years ago. “He just likes to tease people a lot.”
“Probably his way of treating friends.” Arthur stood, stretching his hands above his head, wincing when his bones cracked. “Damn Scot’s the same way to me. Always teases me, but his way of showing he cares.”
“Maybe…” He thought about it for a moment, looking from Arthur back at the toy. “Seems about right. I mean, there was this other student who use to come on these trips. And Ivan’d always push down on his head… But the two were pretty good friends.”
Granted, that Latvian boy seemed rather terrified of the Russian. Or in retrospect, of everyone on the trip.
“See, I just get punched.” Arthur snorted, sitting back down and snatching the toy out of Alfred’s and, blue paint smearing over his fingers. “Why’re you painting this? We don’t need it.”
“Feliciano asked. Said he didn’t know what you had ready to be painted yet.” Arthur snorted again, rolling the little soldier between his fingers.
“I have a whole castle interior set that needs to be built, and painted. Could’ve had you do that.” And then he shrugged. “Probably didn’t know where the designs were.”
“You guys are finally building stuff? Do I get to actually see the set!?”
“Fuck no! You want to see it, come to the show!”
“Already going. Remember?” An impish smile formed as he leaned forward, face inches away from Arthur’s. “Our date.”
The Stage Manager turned as red as one of Antonio’s tomatoes. “Th-That! I never said! You… You are infuriating!”
Alfred leaned away, laughing as he was punched in the shoulder. And for an instant, it was like before their argument; the two just teasing each other in a playful manner. For a few minutes, the American couldn’t help but pray that maybe the argument had just been forgotten. That Arthur didn’t remember the harsh words. Luck wasn’t on his side though, because within moments of that prayer, the Brit’s expression darkened, before he was glaring at Alfred. He stood quite suddenly, nearly pegging the toy soldier at Alfred.
“You continue painting that thing for Feliciano. I have work that needs get done.” The icy tone had returned. Blue eyes went wide as he reacted without thinking, reaching out to grab the Brit’s wrist. A scathing look was the response. “What the hell do you think you’re doing Mr. Jones?”
“I-I…” No. He wasn’t going to apologize first! He wasn’t! “Don’t you have anything for me to do!? You normally have a laundry list!”
“No. I’m quite capable of handling things by myself. Now if you would be so kind as to let go of me I can get to work.” He tried to yank his arm free. But Alfred only tightened his grip, standing up. “I said le-”
“No.”
“Stop being such a child!” Another tug, Alfred returned the glare with one of his own.
“No. I’m not gonna let go so you can just run off and avoid me again! Fuck Arthur! I don’t get what the fuck the big deal is about me just asking you a question! I get it. You’re touchy about the freakin’ word-”
“Alfred.”
“-But there’s no reason to just kick me out like that! To just tell me how fuckin’ useless I am! ‘Cause I know I’m not that smart! But dammit I thought we were friends-”
“Will you ju-”
“-Aren’t we friends!? Or am I just another dumbass American who likes to think everything revolves around them!? Is that all I am!? Some stupid American who comes in and lets you boss them around until they try to get to know you-”
“You’re hurting me!” The words cut through Alfred’s rant. Blue eyes going wide as he stared at the Brit. And then, when the words registered in his mind, he released the others wrist as if he had been burned. Arthur took a step or two back, staring at the American with guarded eyes, cradling his wrist against his chest. Alfred swallowed dryly, taking a step or two back, his eyes going even wider. A sudden fear gripped his throat, any words he had been trying to get out suddenly becoming caught. And all the while, Arthur kept watching him, green eyes cutting right through him.
Alfred had never felt so exposed.
He took another step back, before reacting without really thinking. He ran. He didn’t hear Arthur shout out after him, nor did he hear the stage manager jump off the stage and take off after him. All Alfred was focused on was getting to that exit and away.
He didn’t however expect the door to open, leading him to crash into the man who had been about to enter the theatre. He toppled backwards, landing on his rear. With a small groan, he glanced up, his eyes widening when an older brunet man stared down at him, with eyes the exact same color as Feliciano’s.
“Grandpa only casts the best performers for the leads in our troupe.”
His mouth went dry.
He had just crashed into the man in charge of the troupe.
His luck just kept getting better and better…
-
Overall I am not pleased entirely with how this chapter played out. Nor do I like the ending D: But hey, Grandpa Rome has appeared?
OTL Sorry for any fail in this chapter. I hope you all enjoy it?
Little bit of Rochu thrown in for the ever amazing loveanime18 ! Again, I owe you!