Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

Chapter 1: Al and Arty; School and Francis

Alfred looked over at his best friend. Arthur Kirkland was sitting in the passenger seat of Alfred's Mercedes as Alfred drove them (along with his younger brother Matthew) to school. Alfred turned his eyes to the road once more, a feeling of longing clenching at his heart. Alfred had been in love with Arthur since they were 7 and he had moved into the house next door to Arthur's. They had been best friends ever since, though Arthur would always say it was just because the other would never leave him alone. Everyone knew the Brit had a hard time expressing his feelings and didn't really mean that. They were both 18 now and seniors at Hetalia High School (Home of the Hetalia High Hawks).

Just two months ago Alfred had been all prepared to finally tell Arthur his feelings when Arthur had announced that he was dating Francis Bonnefoy, the new student from France who made up one third of the Bad Touch Trio. Alfred had been heartbroken, but he told Arthur he was happy for him and gave him a hug in congratulations. Alfred could swear that a look of what appeared to be disappointment had flashed across Arthur's face for a second, but he shrugged it off as wishful thinking.

The three parked in their usual spot and went into the courtyard outside of the school to meet up with their friends. Matthew instantly glued himself to his boyfriend's side and Alfred scowled at the albino. Gilbert only smirked back before kissing Matt good-morning and resuming his conversation with Antonio. Antonio soon got distracted and wondered over to Lovino, who was trying to start a fight with Feliciano's boyfriend Ludwig, glomping the angry Italian from behind. Feliciano watched on, his usual care free and friendly expression in place, eating a small bowl of what appeared to be pasta. Their other friends were there as well, but most of them were being relatively well behaved compared to the ones mentioned. Many of the less dramatic ones were sitting together under a nearby tree. Heracles was asleep under the shady tree, leaning on Kiku's shoulder, and the Japanese boy was blushing the color of a firetruck from the intimate position. It was quite amusing for those watching. Elizabeta was snapping pictures of the couple with her digital camera, squealing fan-girlishly at the cuteness of her two friends.

"Hey, Iggy! Want to come over for dinner tonight? Mom's making roast!" Alfred turned on the puppy-pout face as he looked down at his crush. Arthur glared up at the bespectacled boy, hands on his slim hips. Alfred felt his breath catch at the cuteness of Arthur's stance and desperately hoped no one else had noticed. Arthur looked so beautiful today. But then again, Alfred always thought Arthur looked more beautiful than anyone else in the world ever had or could. To Alfred, the shorter boy was perfect.

"I told you not to call me that, you git! But I suppose I could come over tonight. My brothers are on a business trip until next month and I'm getting a bit tired of eating take-out." Arthur's family was very wealthy. His parents had died when he was 5, so he lived with his older brothers who ran the family company. Alfred smiled brightly at his emerald eyed counterpart and nodded happily. Arthur would have cooked for himself but, after an incident a few years ago where the stove nearly blew up while he was making waffles (Don't ask...-_-), Arthur's brothers no longer allowed him to use the stove...or the microwave...or the blender...or anything electrical or gas powered in the kitchen really.

"Cool! Come back over around 5:30. OK?" Mentally, Alfred whooped in happiness. His family loved Arthur and it meant he got to spend time with the shorter boy minus their friends. "I'll call Mom during lunch and get a definite time you need to be there to eat!" Arms wrapped around Arthur's shoulders and a golden-blond head leaned on top of Arthur's sandy-blond one. Arthur scowled and pulled away sharply.

"Francis, I told you not to do that! I'm not an arm rest or a piece of furniture!" Arthur huffed angrily and turned back to Alfred, ignoring his boyfriend completely. "5:30 sounds fine. You remembered to ask first this time, didn't you?" A thick sandy-blonde brow was raised at the American. Alfred scoffed at his friend.

"Of course! I would never invite someone over for dinner without the expressed permission of my parents...again." Arthur rolled his eyes in acceptance.

"Mon cher, are you already planning on doing something tonight? Perhaps, it could be rescheduled for a later day?" The duo looked over at Francis, having momentarily forgotten his existence. " I had thought that you and I could spend some time together, especially as your family is out and your house is empty!" The Frenchman winked lasciviously. Arthur turned bright red and his eyes screamed murder.

"The hell you stupid frog? I told you I'm not going to sleep with you! Bug me about it again and you won't be able to even consider such activities with anyone!" Alfred glared at Francis from behind Arthur's back. Francis was so stupid. Arthur hated being pushed into anything. The more you tried to push him into something, the more he refused to do it. "And I already have plans to hang out with Alfred. You should have asked earlier, not just assumed I was free or willing to cancel my plans for you. If you keep bothering me about such nonsense you won't just be single! I'll get out my special knife!"

Francis and Alfred both paled at the mention of Arthur's 'special knife'. It had been a present from his oldest brother Scott for his 14th birthday and Arthur used it like a professional. Scott had explained that this was expected of him. The Kirkland family had generations of pirates as their ancestors. You never wanted to be on the receiving end of Arthur's skill with his 'special knife'. It was the knife he used when he actually meant to cause a person harm or make sure a threat stuck.

He'd once used it on Gilbert. It was just after Gilbert started dating Matt. Alfred and Arthur paid the German (Prussian) boy a visit and brought the knife along to add some substance to their threat of death and castration should the red-eyed boy hurt Matt, who Arthur thought of as a younger brother (and who is Alfred's younger brother). Gilbert still had nightmares about it and everyone knew to back off when Arthur got mad enough to bring up that knife. Francis had better shut up and listen well or he'd be a dead (eunuch) man. Alfred did a victory dance in his head as he watched Arthur yell. Arthur had chosen to spend time with him over Francis! Alfred didn't think the day could get much better unless Arthur broke up with Francis and declared his undying love for Alfred. Alfred snorted mentally. Like that would ever happen! Maybe in his dreams. But Alfred could wish, couldn't he?

Their friends were watching the scene with a great deal of interest, none so much as Alfred though. Alfred loved Arthur and wanted him to be happy. He knew he and Arthur were perfect for one another, but he refused to ruin Arthur's relationship with Francis for such a selfish reason. Even though he knew if Francis and Arthur broke up there would be nothing stopping Alfred from going after his emerald eyed best friend, Alfred wanted what made Arthur happy. If Arthur was happy with Francis, then Alfred would be happy for him. That was what truly loving someone was.

Antonio, still glomping a struggling Lovino, and Gilbert, his arm wrapped loosely around Matt's waist, snickered as they watched their friend get ripped to shreds by the force of the angry British man's scolding. Though Gilbert was even paler than usual, probably from the knife threat calling up unpleasant memories.

Inside the school building the first bell rang, calling a stop to Arthur's verbal abuse of his (for now) boyfriend. The group quickly rushed into the school, all determined not to be tardy. If you were late they gave you detention with Mr. Braginsky, the scary Russian teacher! No one wanted that. As Arthur jogged over to Alfred, leaving Francis behind them, to head inside with his friends Alfred felt a small measure of hope take life within his heart. Francis didn't deserve Arthur.