A/N: *wanders into Hetalia fandom* Whoa…. This place is HUGE! *voice echoes* I'm scared…. This is my first Hetalia story, and my firsts tend to be total crap. D-don't kill me…. Please.
I was on Hetalia wikia, and, I saw the group pairings. The idea came to me: what if I made a story including my favorite triangles and pairs? Hence, this thing!
Get ready for…..
[1] 'German Potato Sandwich' - Germany/Austria/Prussia
[2] 'Frying Pangle'- Prussia/Austria/Hungary
[3] 'Honda's Bodyguards'- Greece/Japan/Turkey
[4] 'Frangleterre'- France/UK
[5] 'Waiting for Spring'- Russia/America
[6] 'Spero'- Spain/Romano
Have a pairing you like? Tell me, and I'll see what I can do to put in your OTP.
AU's are addicting…
.:Toppling Pyramids:.
[1] & [2]
Rodderich Edelstein never really liked football, or sports of any kind, for that matter He was more the type to stay home and practice his music, not to be sitting on hard bleachers, watching adrenaline filled teens tackle each other over a ball.
But, today was the one day of the year he had to come out. Or, as his ex-girlfriend, Elizaveta Héderváry, put it 'stop being a hermit and live a little'.
If it was just Elizaveta, he could have resisted. But, no, Ludwig just had to agree! And why would they go here, of all places. He understood Ludwig's brother was on the team, but, Rodderich and his brother weren't friends at all. In fact, they hated each other!
The crowd cheered as their team scored another touchdown. Rodderich just sat. Woo-freaking-hoo! he thought sarcastically Another buff buffoon ran over a line with a ball. Wonderful!
"Rodderich, are you brooding again?" Elizaveta pouted "Why can't you just be happy? Look at Ludwig, he's having fun."
Rodderich looked, and, the German did indeed have a huge grin on his face, and was intensely watching the game. "Yes, well, he likes sports. I, however do not enjoy them to any degree. You knew that before you forcefully dragged me here."
"You were not forcefully dragged!"
"You had Ludwig carry me to the car and handcuff me to the seat."
"….. I still want to know how he got the cuffs."
"Elizaveta, his dad's a police officer."
"Oh, right."
Rodderich sighed. "Can I go home? I'm cold, it's about to rain, and I have a new composition to write."
"No," Elizaveta said firmly "You're staying until the end of the game."
"What if a girl uncomfortably hits on me?". This statement generally got Elizaveta to let him go home, but this time, she came prepared.
"I have my frying pan in my purse."
He looked at the Hungarian girl's small pink purse. "How did you…. never mind, I probably shouldn't ask."
"What're you two talking about now?" Ludwig asked, irritated that his game viewing had been interrupted.
"Roddy's brooding again!" Elizaveta whined
"Rodderich, you really have to stop being like this every time we take you within a ten foot radius away from your piano." Ludwig sighed "Really, we're trying to help you."
The Austrian just grumbled, and went back to staring at his feet. How was this helping him? Letting him do as he pleased, and compose his work in peace, was helping him. This distraction was not helping him at all!
After about another hour of brooding and boredom, the game was over, and the World Academy's team had won again. A small win in a season of countless victories, all lead by the teams self proclaimed "awesome" captain, Gilbert Beillschmidt. Otherwise known as, Ludwig's brother, and Rodderich's headache.
"Hey West," the annoying albino called to his brother as he exited the locker room "Didn't I do awesomely?"
"Da, Bruder." Ludwig replied "You did great."
"Of course I did!" Gilbert laughed his annoyingly snakelike laugh. "Hello, Lizzy!"
"Hello, Gilbert." Elizaveta said through clenched teeth.
"So, Alfred and I are going out, do you want tag along, West?" Gilbert asked, and his brother nodded.
"Can Elizaveta and Rodderich come?" he asked, "We're trying to get Rod out of the house more often."
"Sure," Gilbert replied "Young Master definitely needs to stop being emo and get laid. A night in the club, and he'll be happy as a clam… well, only if he's that kind of drunk, I always pegged him as the guy that tells people his life's st-"
"Bruder!"
"What~!"
"Nein!"
"Fine," Gilbert huffed "Let's get going."
[3]
Kiku Honda had a dilemma. His two best friends, Sadiq Annan and Hercules Karpusi, both wanted to go see a movie with him at the same time. Now, they were Kiku's best friends, but they were also each other's worst enemies. And, if Kiku put them in the same room, all hell broke loose.
The thing the two always argued over most was Kiku; who he should spend time with, who got to sit next to him on the but, who he liked more…. It was all maddening!
So, Kiku had four options: go to the movie with Sadiuq and get Hercules angry; go to the movie with Hercules and get Sadiq angry; go to the movies with them both at the same time, and have to deal with their arguing the whole time; or cancel with both and get them both angry.
None were good options, and all would end in potential disaster. Kiku could always reschedule… no, that would insult them… he could split his time, and run back and forth, like on TV…. And that always ended so well…
Well, option three it was then!
When the night of the movie came, Kiku waited in front of the theater nervously until his friends arrived. "You?" they shouted simultaneously.
"I-uh… you both scheduled at the same time, so, I just thought we could g-go together.." Kiku told them.
The three walked inside in an awkward silence into the theater. By the time the previews started, Hercules and Sadiq had already started arguing over something (Kiku didn't know what).
This was going to be one long movie…
[4] & [5]
Arthur Kirkland gathered up the papers on his desk, and headed out towards the parking lot. Due to the school being open later for the football game, he had gotten an excuse to stay late. Alfred was probably out with his friends, and there was little to worry about there.
The Englishman had stayed and graded papers for over two hours, trying to blindly mask the other reason for not going home.
That reason? The house still reminded Arthur of him.
He knew he should get over it; move on, just as the other had. But, he couldn't.
He held back hot tears at the memories, and quickened his pace. Then he stopped short when he heard a familiar and seductive voice say "Oh, Alice, you do always know how to flatter me!"
His heart stopped. His breath hitched in his throat. No. No, no, no! He isn't; he wouldn't; he can't!
"Well, Francis, my darling, you are worth it." the voice of Alice Graham replied.
Arthur heard that, and ran. He didn't care how fast he went, he didn't care who saw him, he just needed to get out of there. That bastard! That total dick! Arthur had given him ten damn years of his life, and now he was nothing! They had been married! They had sons! Then, two months prior, the divorce paper had been handed to him. "I am sorry, ma chere, but I'm afraid this cannot go on any longer." Francis had said.
"Why?" Arthur had asked, confused.
The words that came out of the Frenchman's mouth next hurt so much, it made Arthur wish he never asked. "Because," Francis replied "I do not love you any longer."
There had been an argument, and Arthur ended up signing the papers. There was no custody problem, Arthur got Alfred, and Francis got Mathew. It was silent and quick. Almost like it never happened…
Arthur liked to think that. He liked to fool himself into thinking that when he came home, that Francis would be at the table, still grading French tests, waiting for him.
It only made it hurt worse when he came home, and remembered that Francis wasn't there anymore. Francis wasn't out getting groceries that he'd forgotten. He was gone, and he wasn't coming back. Ever.
He fought the tears threatening to cloud his vision as he pulled into the driveway of his home. He opened the door, fumbling with his keys to get in. "Dad, 's that you?"
"Yeah." Arthur called to his son.
"I ate already, don't worry about it. Yes, my homework is done; yes, the dishes are washed; and yes, my day was fine." Alfred said, answering all the routine questions his dad normally would ask.
"Glad someone did," Arthur muttered, wiping back the tears that now flowed freely.
"You saw Papa again, didn't you? What did he do this time?" Alfred said, genuinely concerned for his adoptive father.
"You have Ms. Graham for math, don't you?"
Alfred's blue eyes widened. "They're not-"
"But, they are!" Arthur cut him off. "That woman has gone out with almost every man on staff, now!"
"Not only will the damn frog only get hurt when she dumps him - and she will- but, he'll fall into he trap just like the other men! After she dumps a man, they turn into her butlers!" Arthur lamented.
He stopped. "I'm sorry, Alfred, I shouldn't be laying all of this on you. Just…. Forget it, okay?"
"No." Alfred said.
"E-excuse me?" Arthur replied, stunned.
"I said no." Alfred repeated firmly. "You always taught me to help those who need it. You need help."
Arthur was about to start arguing in reply, but, instead he just said. "Right now, Alfred, that is exactly what I needed to hear. Thank you."
Alfred walked over to his father, and did something he hadn't done in years: he hugged Arthur. But, this time, it was not for his own comfort, but for the comfort of his father.
"Everything is gonna work out fine," Alfred whispered "That, I can promise."
"I know, I know." Arthur said "Now, do you or do you not have a boyfriend whom you were supposed to call tonight?"
Alfred pulled back "Oh, sh-"
"Language!"
"-maple. If I don't call Ivan, he's gonna flip!"
"Then go call the boy!" Arthur laughed "Don't let me stop you!"
But, those words fell upon deaf ears, Alfred had already ran up to his room, and dialed the phone.
"Hello?" a voice with a thick Russian accent asked on the other side of the phone.
"Hey Ivan!" Alfred said to his boyfriend, masking all worry in his voice with fake cheer "Sorry I couldn't call sooner; I was waiting for my dad to get home."
"That's okay," Ivan replied cheerily.
"Were you at the game today?" Alfred asked.
"Da, you did vunderfully!" Ivan replied.
"Thanks, why didn't you come and see me afterwards?" Alfred queried, curious on the reason why. Ivan would usually go straight up to him when they were close, he was clingy that way, but Alfred loved him anyways.
"Natalia vas vith me." Oh, that explained it…
"I should have guessed. She still hasn't given up on marring you, has she? Really, the kid needs to be told about incest…" Alfred muttered, and the Russian laughed.
"Da, you have no clue how many times I've tried to explain it, but, she just doesn't understand." he replied.
"Well, she better learn that you won't be available for about the next eternity or two."
Ivan laughed again "Da, she vill learn."
"Good."
"Vell, I must go. I have homework to do."
"Bye."
"Bye."
I love you...
[6]
"Lovino!"
Lovino Vargas cringed as he turned to see the bouncing form of Antonio Carriedo running towards him. "Lovi, why weren't you at the football game? I missed my little Roma!" the Spaniard pouted.
"Because, I don't like football, tomato bastard. And don't call me Lovi!" the Italian snapped.
"Oh, Lovi, why are you so mean to me?" the other lamented.
"Because, you annoy me."
Antonio frowned. "I do not try, mi tomate."
"Just shut up and let me go home." Lovino growled, just as rain started pouring down.
"Damn!" Lovino cursed, looking for the umbrella he thought he had put in his bag.
"Here, I'll share with you!" Antonio offered.
Lovino was about to decline before he let out a sneeze. "See! You are already catching a cold." Antonio said, and he unfolded the umbrella, stepping close to Lovino so the Italian could get under it.
They walked awhile in silence, before Antonio started visibly shivering. "You bastard, you're gonna catch pneumonia!" Lovino muttered "Why aren't you under here?"
"It only has enough room for one." was Antonio's reply.
"Well, I'll share. I don't want to be blamed for your death, so get under here." Lovino said coldly.
"Okay then." Antonio shifted his grip so he could hold the umbrella over both their heads.
Unconsciously, Lovino snuggled closer to Antonio, and the Spanish boy just put his arms around the boys waist without a word. Why ruin the moment? If Lovi heard a smart comment, Antonio would just end up with a bloody nose and no cute Italian to hold onto.
"Well…. I live here," Lovino muttered.
"Okay then… see you tomorrow?" the Spanish teen asked, meaning it as more of a question.
Lovino smiled coyly "Only if I forget my umbrella again, tomato bastard." and with that, he opened the door and went inside, leaving Antonio to walk home alone.
Before he went to sleep that night, Antonio reverently hoped for rain.