#and yet its not socially acceptable for me to smoke in public w h y

[its--ali]

weed my beloved

[a-writing-bear]

[PruCan] Chapter 1: Soft-Spoken Calling, They Want Their Shyness Back

Ao3 Link:

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11159997/chapters/24905436

This Has been cross-posted onto FF & Ao3 under Aliases: BearBooper

You can read this Fic on tumblr under ‘Keep Reading’

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Fandom: Hetalia Axis Powers

Main Pairing: Gilbert Beilschmidt & Matthew Williams (Prussia & Canada)

AU:  College AU - Art Student Matthew and Media/Film Student Gilbert

Age Rating/Mature:  Teen And Up Audiences (12+ due to mentions of mature themes as well as swearing)

Trigger Warnings: None in this chapter (Future addiction to mention themes such as addiction, rape etc.)

Summary: 

Matthew likes art. It gives him expression when his quiet voice gets lost in the seas of attention-hungry students at Himaruya Academy. Art seems safe yet teetering just on the edge of questionable and provocative at times. In a way that could summarise his experience with Gilbert: Enough danger and uncertainty to keep his social life turning without feeling the discomfort. He likes art...He also really...really likes Gilbert. 

Gilbert is - to be honest - a self-proclaimed media genius (He's not wrong, he is pretty damn good at the course), He likes to create discussion and create thought-provoking pieces of music and film. At the same time, while he may have built his legacy in Media he has yet to build a sense of legacy and certainty with himself. Cue the smoking, drinking and late night 'rendezvous' and indulgent one night stands...it's the high point of college right. That was a while ago now. It’s already a year into the semester and Gil needs to start saving money instead of partying. He's not lost- not fearful? Why does he not feel lost anymore when there's that blonde birdie looking his way?

I do not own any of the characters, they all belong to the Show/Manga/Hell that is Hetalia and the creator/Hima-Papa Himaruya Hidekaz Himself. 

Matthew was soft-spoken, which in hindsight he realised was attributed due to his, let’s be frank, terrible childhood of growing up with his loud and boisterous brother. Don’t get him wrong, sometimes being soft spoken had its benefits- like that time he got to skip out of doing public speaking…or that time his father gave him a pass after a problematic day at school…

This was not one of those times.

 If the Canadian could describe himself it would be ‘appropriately passive’, someone not prone to anger unless he was provoked to a boundary which only certain people correction: incredibly and insanely idiotic people, have crossed (Alfred learnt his lesson after the case of the missing art supplies…). On any other typical evening at the bustling university dorm - a Friday night that all students of Himaruya Academy were yearning for - the strawberry blonde would roll his eyes as he heard the booming blasting music from the dorm adjacent to his, but with an art piece already way behind and his paint pot PHYSICALLY edging itself off his desk due to the vibrations, Matthew knew it was time to finally get over his quiet nature and shut down whatever the fuck his dorm neighbour thought was music.

‘Maple- This is getting out of hand- come on Mattie just go over and give the hoser a good shout…it’s like that time with Alfred and his damned pranks’,  

Still dressed in his old white shirt covered in splotches of green and red acrylic, spare jeans and tousled hair, the Canadian padded his way out of the room preparing himself to attempt a confrontation with his unknown neighbour. ‘Wait- I don’t even know who lives next door? Is this really a good-‘

His knuckles seemed to go in autopilot as he realised he had already knocked on the door. Suddenly the music spilt out of the already overfilled container of a dorm and filled the hallway with loud blaring drums of some generic rock song. A head had poked out and was currently staring down Matthew as if the artist was the one doing something rude. He gulped, anxiously as he looked to face the head which had appeared…never one to be good with confrontations his original angry tone he planned to use came out meeker than he wanted:

“H-Hey could you have some respect and s-switch off your trashy music, some of us are t-trying to work….?”

As usual his plan had failed, this was clearly evident with the stuttering and the last few words, which were meant to be a verbal jab, turned into an awkwardly poised question. Trying to regain control over himself, Matthew watched as the head retreated into the room, music promptly turned off, and quite surprisingly the door opening with the resident grinning wildly in return. It was the blonde’s turn to stare the man in front of him down, the bright ruby eyes pierced through his thoughts, the light grey- seemingly white- silver streaks of hair and what must have been the lightest skin he had ever seen (‘I wonder if he would make a good canvas for my next paint-Mattie Back to task!’) made the glasses-clad boy look in awe.

‘He’s so pretty...’ oh jeez…w-what-why am I here again??’

“Uh hello? Ah Kid you okay there?” a heavily accented voice dragged Matthew out of his little-infatuated daydream. Matthew gulped. What was he getting into?

 Gilbert Beilschmidt was not a soft-spoken guy. Granted that could be attributed to his position of an older brother; the one to get into squabbles and fights to protect the honour of his sibling (Not that Ludwig ever really appreciated it). It wasn’t uncommon to get various noise complaints from the students who occupied the rooms around him, however, the shy-looking captivating character in front of him was a new sight to see. ‘Scheiße he’s cute, verdammt….’ He tilted his head and flashed a trademark snarky smile as he questioned the boy who also seemed to be lost in a daze. Slowly but surely opening up the door to his sanctuary, without words he invited the unknown person in – ‘this is probably not a good idea to invite strangers in…. but this kid…he’s so cute he couldn’t hurt…..a fly…’

As the kid shuffled into Gilbert’s poster-covered room, Gilbert couldn’t help but continue watching the blonde’s small fidgets and expression: First a hand twitch as if to say ‘n-no I’m okay’ then acceptance and a preoccupied sense of unsure thoughts then a fluster of blinking violet depths accompanying a sudden wave of...wonder? The new person was busy admiring his décor with an enchanted glare,

“Whoa…so beautiful….” He heard the student said quietly

“Why thank you, I do look my best when there’s good company” The self-proclaimed Prussian was prone to spilling automatic pickup lines from his lips, though it was strange because he had started blushing after realising what he had said.

Gilbert Doesn’t Blush. Not Usually.  

There was a dramatic and quick change in the air as the visitor whipped around and scoffed out, “E-excuse me?”

Gilbert’s eyes widened and he spluttered out an apology as he realised he just tried to flirt with a random guy who had only just met him.

“A-ah sorry- I’m Gilbert, Nice to meet you, sorry about the noise-“ he reached out his hand and felt a bit of hurt as the boy looked at the gesture with caution and had jumped back,

“German.”

It was Gilbert’s turn to look confused and scoff.

“Excuse me?”

Matthew’s cheeks grew bright red as he looked down to the floor which was suddenly very interesting,

“Sorry eh, Y-your accent…it’s German, You’re Ger-“

“Prussian. I’m Prussian. Judging from your ‘eh’ you’re Canadian, wait do you have something against Germans?”  

“NO NO oh my god no-I-I... Just...I didn’t- ….”

Matthew paused, it was embarrassing to admit what he said next,

“I... I like accents.”

Matthew was filled with horror at how he must have sounded. He definitely wasn’t racist towards Germans…he just…. really liked accents. It was a quirk he enjoyed strangely, a guilty admission of a detail Matthew loved. The room resident, now known to Matthew as Gilbert, halted for a moment inquisitively, before bursting into a laugh that nearly replicated his brother if it wasn’t accented – ‘Although this one feels…nicer to hear than Alfred’s..’ Finally, really paying attention to the skinny man Matthew noted the lopsided creased ‘Kings of Leon’ shirt (A band Matthew actually enjoyed!) and the low riding jeans that hung dangerously on the pale hips. Blushing and feeling more out of place than usual, the artist let out a tiny huff of discomfort.

“My name’s Matthew Williams…Technically William-Jones but. I prefer-I mean- just Williams is better.” Out came the scattered words from the red cheeks,

“As in William-Jones like Alfred William-Jones?” ‘Typical. Of course, this hot handsome interesting guy knew his brother. ‘Game over, no point attempting to be friendly now- ‘

“Mattie? Hey? You’re zoning out again, you alright ja?” a hand had reached up to Matthew’s fringe,

His deeper thoughts subsided as he responded to Gilbert who was now closer and looming over him; almost touching his messy hair. With a small ‘eep’ Matthew shrunk at the student’s proximity and lack of boundaries. The silence was deafening when you realised all that could be heard was the rather sped up breathing of two college idiots gawking at each other, needless to say, he flurry of confusion, uncertainty and perplexity were tangible between the bated breathes. Everything they ever knew about connecting with someone seemed to click into place and while they both weren’t aware that they were on the same page, they both thought the same thing at that very moment:

Fuck. He’s my Type.