4Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.
Author's Note: These will all be short drabbles/oneshots about America or Alfred. Some will be AU, some not, and definitely anything in-between. If they are a romance-centered oneshot, it's most likely to be vanilla USUK, but that's also viable to change anytime. I'm also setting the entire fic as "complete" (since the individual plots will likely be wrapped up in a chapter) even though I will continue to add more oneshots/drabbles.
I hope you enjoy these baby stories!
Summary: High school AU. Alfred being more than awkward during lunch. Ivan and Yao are fully entertained.
Alfred scowled at the girls' backs, willing their phones to all simultaneously crash so they would stop walking so slowly and then he could finally go eat his burger and fries in peace. Instead, he was shifting from foot to foot as he tried to calculate the cost-benefit analysis of shoving them away. Ahh, choices, choices. His food or being a hero? Hero or food?
The cafeteria was packed full of students since the assembly had lasted longer than everyone expected. And thus, the masses were starving, Alfred especially! He was a growing boy, he needed to eat so he could be continue being the best football player on the team.
Alfred craned his neck as he searched for his large Russian frenemy. Mattie was sitting with Gilbert today, so no sir-e was he going to sit there and watch them suck-face, because then he'd totally lose his appetite.
Seeing one of the girls skip ahead to hug her friend around the waist, Alfred silently cheered – an opening! The American rushed right through the middle of the group before the empty space could close up, muttering a hasty, "excuse me, dudes" before successfully encountering sweet, sweet freedom. His delicious burger awaits!
Once he was safely in the lunch line, he surveyed the cafeteria. The tables were quickly filling up, and he barely saw any free spaces. Alfred bit his lip, hoping he wouldn't have to eat at one of the tables outside. It was cold!
After collecting his three hamburgers and a healthy dish of fries on the side, the teen marched to the far end of the cafeteria when he spotted Ivan and Yao sitting at one of the circle-shaped tables with their heads bowed together. Probably talking about communism. Without a care in the world, Alfred plopped down in one of the two empty seats in front of them and beamed. They looked up and, upon seeing his gorgeous face, frowned. They obviously missed his company.
"Go away, Yanki," Ivan hissed, holding his eerie smile as his eyes darkened. He wrapped a possessive arm around the older Chinese student. "You are not wanted. Shoo."
Alfred didn't even flinch. "No can-do, commie bastard. So how are ya'll today? You goin' to the game tonight, Yao?" he asked cheerfully as he lifted his first burger to his mouth. Ivan was glaring at him again. Too bad Alfred was resistant to all things evil and Russian (same thing, really).
Yao wrinkled his nose at the way his pickles were falling onto the school tray as ketchup-covered casualties. The small teen crossed his arms over his chest and swapped a look with Ivan. "No."
"What, why?" Alfred whined after swallowing a large bite. He leaned against the back of the chair, propping one foot up on the other empty seat. "It's going to be great!"
"Because I can't stand to see much more of your fat face than I do already."
"I'm not fat! This is muscle!"
"Yes you are, capitalist pig."
"Shut up, commie bastard! No one aske—arg!"
Before Alfred could die via scarf strangulation, an uncomfortable cough behind the American's seat forced the students to pause and look up. Quickly throwing the offending fabric at the (psychotic) gleeful Russian, Alfred smiled up at the newcomer, trying to match the sunny-blond hair, green eyes, and enormous caterpillar eyebrows.
Oh! It was Arthur, the British exchange student. Alfred had English with him, and the teen was constantly scowling at him whenever he answered the questions incorrectly. Sometimes he would make outrageous suggestions just to see the exchange student's scandalized reactions because he made the best funny faces. The Brit was always hanging out with fruity Francis, though, so he never really had the chance to talk with him.
"Is anyone sitting here?" Arthur asked, carefully eyeing the trio as he gestured with a short wave at the empty chair Alfred's foot was currently occupying. He obviously meant it as 'can I take this chair?'
Alfred quickly removed his foot and blurted out happily, "Nope! Come sit with us!"
Arthur blinked. Alfred blinked. In the background, Ivan and Yao wasted no time in howling with laughter like the absolutely crappy friends they were. Meanwhile, Arthur and Alfred stared uncomfortably at each other. Alfred opened his mouth and then closed it again, not knowing what to say and fearing any attempt would just make his face even more pink.
"…Uh… thank you… but I'm just going to sit with my friends," Arthur finally said and picked up the chair. He smiled bemusedly at Alfred before walking back to the long table with Francis and that Spanish dude who always hung out with the potty-mouthed Italian. Alfred watched him go with a grimace.
Once Arthur was out of hearing range, he smacked his head against the table and moaned pathetically. Ivan was still giggling when the lunch bell rang.
On the following Monday, Alfred kept his head down as he walked into his English class and resolved to not antagonize Arthur until his embarrassment faded into a blurry joke. Ivan and Yao hadn't stopped pestering him about the Incident for the entire weekend. At least they won the football game, Alfred thought, smiling at his desk.
"Is this seat open?" a distinctly British voice asked.
Alfred jerked his head up and stared at Arthur with wide eyes. "Uh, yeah! Go ahead and take it." He flashed a confident smile at the shorter blond and burned the desire to hide himself under the desk. It was too soon!
Instead of dragging the plastic chair into the corner where the exchange student normally sat, he slid into the seat across from Alfred. "My name's Arthur," he greeted politely, offering a little wave.
"HEY!" Alfred couldn't stop the wide, toothy grin from breaking his face in half. "I'm Alfred, the hero! Welcome to my table!"
.
fin
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Author's Note: This is actually supposed to be platonic. I don't know if my attempt was successful, though. Also, this is a pretty short length for me (less than a thousand words, so tiny!) but this is all I wanted to write about, so... sorry? The idea was based off of a friend's story about being an awkward duckling and I wanted to share it because it's fun! Thanks for reading!
