[Hetalia] Operation Doppelganger 7/?

Title: Operation Doppelganger 7/?
Author: eveliens/eeevee
Genre : humor/ romance (?)
Characters: America, Canada, Russia; one-sided RussiaxAmerica, CanadaxRussia
Rating: T for language and implied sexual situations
Warnings: snarky!Canada, human names, college AU
Summary: Matthew had thought this over a million times, now he just had to voice his idea. He cleared his throat and whispered, “Hey, you want my twin brother, I like you; I think we can work something out here.”
A/N: Introducing the Axis of Frosting and Belgium. With a bit of his Awesomeness. And fudge, mmm.  And this is your warning: odd pairings throughout the fic. And butchered German.

Sophie=Belgium

Part Six

“Ve, ve, Ludwig, look!”

The burly blond glanced over at his brunette employee before focusing on what he was doing. He muttered, “Very good Felicano.”

“So, Ludwig, can you help me?”

The German let out a sound that was somewhere between a grunt and a sigh. Matthew watched Ivan and Kiku stand at opposite corners of the shop, eyeing the cake knife Ludwig was holding with intense concentration. Alfred didn’t seem to get that they didn’t like each other. In the way that mongooses and cobras don’t like each other. And Ivan was definitely the cobra: he was strong and fearless and contained a male aphrodisiac. He didn’t understand why Ivan needed to be here. Hell, he didn’t understand why he needed to be here. Kiku, at least, had a legitimate reason to be here because he worked here part-time.

Just because his brother had a crush… or, rather, a fixation. This was what happened when you had a social silver spoon shoved down your gullet with praise and admiration your entire life. You began to expect your due. So when someone didn’t care you shat precious metals, you were attracted to them. Nothing is more attractive than mystery, and in this case, negativity.

“C’mon, I’ve helped you tons! I just need one itty, bitty favor.” Alfred wheedled, leaning against the cake display like a sleazy car salesman. Kiku was idly holding a particularly sharp looking frosting tool, polishing it slowly.

Ludwig sighed, plucking the knife from Kiku’s grasp and grabbing the back of Feliciano’s shirt to keep him from falling in the waist high mixer. He pointed Kiku towards the back, asking for more pink frosting, and redirected the Italian back towards where he had been making gelato.

“The last time you watched my dogs, you taught them to ‘kill.’ Do you understand that now, whenever I or Sophie say the word ‘kill’ in a sentence, all four dogs attack Gilbert?” Ludwig glared, his blue eyes serious. “ ‘Kill that fly’ and ‘kill the lights’ and ‘buzzkill’ have triggered several emergency visits to the ER. And this is your fault. I do not consider this a favor.”

“Well, if it’s just Gilbert…” Alfred started and both Ludwig and Matthew glared. Ludwig’s glare, without a doubt, was far more potent. But Matthew hoped his at least helped the effort. Gilbert was a bit egotistically, in the way the way that Saint Peter was a bit saintly, and Matthew was 89.72% sure that he had Narcissistic Personality Disorder, but that was no reason for Alfred to target him. Alfred hung his head a little and muttered, “I trained them with a stuffed raccoon. What kind of attack dogs don’t attack? It’s not my fault Gil resembles a raccoon.”

Ludwig stiffened, “My dogs are not attack dogs. They are Schutzhund dogs.”

“Whatever. I tried kill in German first.” Matthew highly doubted that even if the dogs knew kill in German, they could understand Alfred through his terrible, cliché German accent learned from violent video games. They hadn’t understood sitz or platz when he yelled the words in German but for some reason understood pfiu perfectly well (all of which Matthew knew because he bothered to read their care sheet!). Probably because Alfred said it a hundred times a day, fooey, fooey, phooey, pooey, poopey… yeah, he was a moron. An easily entertained one at that.

“Here is your frosting, Ludwig-san. Perhaps I can help Alfred-kun with his order?” Kiku suggested with a sly smile. To most it looked shy and harmless, but Matthew that the little quirk on the right corner meant trouble. Actually, it usually meant Kiku was about to cream them at Halo and dance victoriously on their metaphorical graves.

“Thank you Kiku. I would appreciate that.” Ludwig said, turning his attention back to the pink be-ribboned monstrosity before him. Seriously, it looked like it belonged in a Breast Cancer parade. Who had that kind of cake at their wedding? Bridezilla much? “Do not let him order something entirely outrageous and impossible. Keep it simple.”

Kiku brought out a sheet of paper and pulled a pen from his pocket. He flashed a smile at Ivan then leaned over towards Alfred. So close they could share headlice. Eww, never mind. Kiku questioned Alfred in a low tone, occasionally glancing at Ivan under dark lashes, and wrote down several notes.

Time to intercept. Battle of the Batter didn’t need to be the latest headline in the town tabloids. Matthew touched Ivan’s elbow gently, watching for any sudden movements. He had noticed that sometime Ivan reacted to a perceived threat before realizing what was going on. Several other students had learned the hard way not to surprise the big Russian. Or grab his non-existent breasts. Korea certainly invented how to fly out the second floor window (which was luckily open for air flowage) and land on local compost heap for the school’s greenhouses that day.

“What is it, Matvey?” Ivan didn’t spare him a glance. A little, agitated giggle crept through his parody of a smile.

“Well, I was wondering if you’d like a brownie or some gelato. It’s really good. Ludwig’s girlfriend runs the bakery part and Feliciano hand-makes the gelato. Ludwig, himself, is the cake boss, so he doesn’t really make the stuff in the case, just for special orders… I mean, we might as well get some while we’re here, right?”

Not like a date. It was not like a date. He didn’t just offer to buy Ivan ice cream so the two of them could share a cone and stroll off into the sunset. It was a treat between friends. And potentially life-saving. Yeah, totally legit, and not date-material.

Ivan blinked, “I do not care for sweets.”

“The maple-walnut fudge is really, really good though. But it’s so rich, I can’t eat it by myself. Share with me?” Matthew gulped and tried something he had seen Alfred do a bijillion times. Puppy eyes.

Ivan stared, the smile slipping from his face, “Is Matvey ill?”

“What?” What! That was a perfect emulation of Alfred’s put-baby-deer-to-shame eyes. 

“Your eyes… they do not look normal. Perhaps we should step outside. The flour and dust in the air will make eyes water, da?” Ivan clarified, immediately concerned. Ludwig twitched when he said the word ‘dust.’ No doubt the neat-freak Germany would invest in some industrial air filters in the near future.

“I… am feeling a little faint.” Matthew hedged. Oh God, he was such a liar. But this was for the greater good! “I think my blood sugar’s low. Can you get me a piece of fudge and we’ll go outside?” And this was not date-material either. Just because Ivan bought him his favorite candy on earth and escorted him away from the witnesses…

Ivan nodded, sparing at glance at Kiku and Alfred, before walking up to Feliciano, who was minding the register with a dreamy smile and watching some girls outside the shop. When Ivan blocked his view he simply tried to look around the body in his way.

“I require some of that.” Ivan’s finger stabbed down in front of Feliciano’s nose insistently making the Italian yelp in surprise. “Take it, take it, but I don’t have keys to the register, so please don’t hurt me!”

“I was not intending to hurt you, but I wish to purchase that dessert.” Ivan replied shortly.

Feliciano made the mistake of looking up. His chocolate eyes widened to the point where Matthew was afraid they were going to pop out and bounce on the floor. And then Ludwig would freak about the blood on his spotless floors and Kiku would have to take Feliciano to the hospital. The Italian gibbered something in rapid Italian, drawing everyone’s attention, as he started throwing pieces of fudge AT Ivan. Running out of fudge, he wailed and ran to hide behind Ludwig.

Ivan stood perplexed, pieces of fudge peeling and oozing off his clothing and face. His tongue swiped at a glob on the corner of his mouth. He didn’t quite get it all the first time and took another taste. Anything remotely intelligent Matthew was going to say disappeared as his eyes were riveted to Ivan’s mouth. Food porn. Right. There. It’d be better if Ivan were licking it off him. Would there be any better orgasm in the world between maple-walnut fudge and Ivan? Matthew highly doubted it.

“Feliciano, please do not move the table.” Ludwig sighed again and stabilized his cake. He gave Alfred and Ivan an accusatory glare a piece before losing patience and adding in a sharper tone, “Get out! I told you, be nice to customers. And not just the pretty girls, either! Go take his money and then get the broom to clean up the fudge.”

“I was being nice!” Feliciano protested, casting a nervous glance over at Ivan. He inched over to the cash register and said meekly held out his hand, “That’ll be $3.49. Please. And please don’t kill me!”

Alfred grinned widely, “Nah, Feli, Ivan’s cool. He’s one of my friends and you’re one of my friends, so he wouldn’t kill you.” Tell that to Kiku. “So be nice to him for me okay? He’s new in town.”

Feliciano shaking subsided a little and he blinked curiously, “Do you like pasta?”

Ivan opened his mouth but Alfred cut him off, “Of course Ivan loves pasta. Who doesn’t love pasta?” 

Feliciano nodded in agreement. Ivan scowled.

“That’s great! Nice to meet you Ivan! Sorry about being scared of you.” Feliciano hummed and Matthew was a little jealous. He’d like to say it was a meeting of the lower minds, but he knew Alfred had a knack for knowing just what people needed reassurance on. He couldn’t do diddly about sensing rejection or sarcasm (which he was exposed to frequently enough by Arthur that he should have a grasp on it by now) or when people were pissed at him, but he always knew what to say to make people at ease. And it sucked. Matthew wanted to do that. Alfred didn’t need it; he did!

“Matthew,” a new voice called out to him and he swung his head around. Sophie gave a grin and held out a small package. “Here, since Feliciano accidentally ruined the other batch. I was going to give it to you at the hockey game but I was sick and forgot to give it to Gilbert.”

It was perfectly okay the other batch was ruined, but only if Matthew got to remove it from Ivan. With his tongue.

“For me?” Matthew flushed darkly. Ludwig and Sophie seemed to be two of the people who actually remembered who he was. Although in Ludwig’s case, it was more because Gilbert had dared him to prank Ludwig’s car and because he sniped the German in lazer tag viciously (only because Ludwig was so competent that he didn’t want to die a horrible blinking LED death first). But Sophie seemed to enjoy using him to test out her new fudge recipes. Maple-walnut was their joint creation, his taste buds and her talent. It was a 20/80 split on royalties and kept a little money in his pocket and all the free fudge he could want.

“Of course, you’re our best customer.” Sophie smiled and Ivan looked at her curiously. Alfred, Kiku, and Feliciano were back over the sketches of Alfred’s glorious cake-of-wooing. Even then Alfred couldn’t resist taunting ‘fatty!’ She turned to Ivan with a neutral look, “Hi, I’m Sophie. I co-own this bakery with Ludwig. It is very nice to meet you. I’m so glad Matthew has another friend.”

‘Another friend?’ Matthew had plenty of friends, thank you very much. Just because some of them, okay most of them, hung out with Alfred too didn’t mean they weren’t his friends. And he had other friends too. Like Sophie’s brother and Gilbert and… and… No way he was a friendless loser.

“I am Ivan.” Ivan shook her hand politely. Matthew was hoping for a little more… jealousy? So Sophie could probably strip tease and rub herself all over Matthew (like that would ever happen and Matthew hoped it wouldn’t because Ludwig… it wouldn’t be a good way to die) and Ivan wouldn’t care. But Kiku almost touches Alfred and there’s homicide afoot? So not fair. “It is nice to meet you as well.”

“Matthew, there’s a new recipe in there. Could you try it for me and tell me what you think? I’d really appreciate it.”

Matthew nodded.

“You’re the greatest pal ever!” Alfred shouted and swept Kiku into a massive, spinecrusher. The poor Japanese man squeaked in surprise before remembering his plot to get back Ivan. Obviously it was beyond him to hug back but he went limp like a ragdoll and managed a weak pat. Alfred grinned widely and hugged him harder before letting go and striding towards the door. “I owe you guys one. Really! Any time you need me to watch the pack, I’m ready!”

“You are not going near out dogs again!” “Beck really liked you. I think we’ll have to take you up on that! He’s usually so picky!” “Come back for pasta!”

Ivan slowly disentangled Feliciano, who was trying to press a free gelato on him as an apology, and headed for the door. His violet eyes never left the dazed Japanese man. This could not end well. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but Ivan was probably contemplating the cardinal sin of torture right now.

Matthew decided it really wasn’t his problem. He could worry about it and stalk Kiku (or better yet, Ivan) but he really wasn’t up for that. And it wasn’t like Kiku didn’t take three forms of martial arts and traditional sword work or anything. Maybe he should be protecting Ivan from Kiku not the other way around.

“Thank you for the fudge, Sophie.” Matthew called out as Alfred snagged his sleeve and dragged him through the door. Ivan followed. He let go just as Gilbert came around the corner. Gilbert grinned and slung an arm around Matthew’s waist, tugging him close. Alfred grumbled and Ivan stared.

“Hey you, are you missing the awesome me?” Gilbert purred, nuzzling Matthew’s ear teasingly. His ruby eyes twinkled with good humor and play, “I’m much more fun than ol’ Luddy. You and I should hang out and maybe some of my awesome will rub off on you.”

Matthew stuck his tongue out before answering with a straight face, “No, sir. The last time I used your toilet I ended up with Property of Awesome branded into my buttock. That was enough awesome for me. Where’d you get that toilet seat anyway?”

“You are Property of Awesome.” Gilbert cackled and slapped Matthew on the butt, “Your ass belongs to me!”

Matthew gave a shy smile. Gilbert was an egotist but he was really fun to hang around.

Alfred cleared his throat. Loudly. He sounded like a mountain lion trying to cough up a wad of rabbit fur crossed with a constipated elephant. Gilbert looked up and glared at Ivan with a frown. Violet eyes bore down at the pair with an unfriendly glint and Matthew started to wiggle out of Gilbert’s grasp. The albino locked him in with his arm and met the staring match from Matthew’s shoulder.

“C’mon Mattie. We’re going to be late.” Alfred said urgently.

Ivan smiled. With teeth.

Matthew sighed. He could almost smell the testosterone and urine from the impending pissing match. Maybe he was girly, since most guys seem to react to Gilbert by wanting to challenge him. Did they sense his ‘awesome’ or something? And what was Alfred’s problem. The only place they had to go was to the Redbox at McDonald’s to return Saw 3. Matthew had insisted that if you Saw One, you saw them all, but Alfred whined and threatened to rent a chick flick instead. Matthew wouldn’t be the one having nightmares for the next week, so he relented.

“Um, Ivan, this is Gilbert. I don’t know if you’ve ever been introduced…”

“No need to be introduced. Seeing him was enough for me.” Ivan giggled, “He was at the hockey match.”

Now, if there was one thing Matthew had learned about Ivan, it was that giggling was a bad, bad sign. 

“Natalia!” Alfred yelled, waving frantically at the woman across the street. Instinctively both Matthew and Ivan ducked for cover through the side gate of the bakery. Instantly four large dogs bounded over. Ivan stared down and coolly picked up a shovel.

“No, put that down!” Matthew shouted in a panic and received a betrayed look in return. Ivan lowered the shovel but didn’t set it down. “Hi guys, good dogs. You remember me.”

The four dogs stopped and wagged their tails as Gilbert hopped the fence behind them. The albino ruffled the nearest dog’s ears, a black and white Great Dane puppy with feet the size of dinner plates, and grinned at Ivan.

“Put that thing away. You really don’t want West mad at you because you hurt his dogs.” Gilbert said lowly. “I don’t know who the hell you are, but you’re Mattie’s friend, so I won’t go awesome on your ass. Yet. So get the hell out.”

“I cannot.” Ivan replied coldly concealing his nervous glance behind him. He was probably trying to locate Natalia by sound and wishing he were a bat so he would have echolocation powers. Here we went again. Maybe they should just pound each other and sort out dominance that way. But only if Matthew could start a pool and make bets on it.

“Er, Ivan, these are Ludwig and Sophie’s dogs: Blackie, Aster, Blitz, and Beck.” Matthew said, patting the Dane puppy, who licked him enthusiastically. Aster was a lot less scary than Blackie, who was a Doberman, and Blitz who was a Giant Schnauzer. Beck was Sophie’s dog and a Belgium Malinois and obsessed with tennis balls. Even now he had one hanging out of his mouth. Gilbert protested, “Nuh-uh, Aster’s mine. West just takes care of him for me!”

“I do not care for dogs.” Ivan said, moving away as Beck spit the slobbery ball at his feet.

“Scared much? Dogs are almost as awesome as I am. Dude, you’re such a killjoy.” Gilbert proclaimed with a scoff. Instant chaos. All four dogs’ ears perked up before they launched themselves at him. Okay, maybe Matthew’s nervous hysterics didn’t just apply to Alfred or maybe it was just too damn funny, but Matthew ended up almost rolling on the ground laughing.

“Nein! Fluei! Platz!” Gilbert screamed at the four dogs as he tried to pull himself over the fence and out of their reach. Ivan waded in and grabbed Gilbert by his belt. With a grunt he literally threw the albino over the four foot fence. There was a heavy thump and swearing in German on the other side. The dogs swarmed the fence, whining and pawing madly, trying to get to their new chew toy.

“Perhaps I should revise my opinion. I like these dogs very much, so long as they do not touch me.”

Matthew just knocked his head into the wall softly. Well, good thing he never wanted a dog.

Part Eight