[Hetalia] Operation Doppelganger 9/?

Title: Operation Doppelganger 9/?
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: Thank you all for the hits, favs, reviews, and alerts. I’ve been having a luckless sort of last couple of weeks and your support is very encouraging.

And unrealistic chapter is unrealistic… but avoids an unwelcome angst-fest in a romantic comedy.


Part Eight

“Hey, Mattie, are you sick? Why won’t you open the door? C’mon, you can’t skip; it’ll make me look good!” Alfred’s voice and fist filled Matthew’s dark room with noise. He grunted and turned over, huddled under the covers. “Mat-teeee! Fine, I’ll just break down the door!”

Matthew bolted up and shouted back irritably, “GO AWAY! Can’t you just leave me alone! I don’t feel good.”

The pounding stopped.

“Oh.” Alfred paused, “Do you want some soup? You sound like shit.”

Matthew curled back under the comforter, disgusted by Alfred pretending to care about him. It was obvious by the way he disappeared for two days that he was avoiding Matthew. He would leave early and creep in late. Matthew wanted to question him but that would mean actually seeing him and talking to him. And Matthew chickened out.

“Pancakes? I’ll make sure it’s real maple syrup, just like you taught me.” Alfred tempted and Matthew threw a book at the door angrily. It hit the wood with a nasty thump and crashed into the floor.

“Did you get in a fight with Ivan? Just say the word and I’ll make him sorry! I know he’s your friend and all, but you don’t have to take crap!” Alfred vowed aggressively and Matthew could hear his fist slam into the wall with a meaningful thump. Not receiving an answer, Alfred continued pleadingly, 

“Seriously, Mattie, is someone bullying you? You have to tell me, so I can talk to them.”

Matthew scoffed at that. The only talking his brother would do would be the introduction before the first punch and the ‘leave my brother alone’ after the last spiteful kick. When they were children Matthew was mostly ignored, but there was a small group of bullies that wouldn’t leave him alone. They took perverse delight in taking his stuffed bear, making him eat mud cakes and various other childish cruelties. Well, they did. Until one day Alfred walked into the middle of it. He calmly assessed the situation, pushed his glasses into Matthew’s chubby hand, and threw himself viciously at the ring leader. The child came out of it with three broken fingers and two missing teeth. Alfred earned suspension for his trouble and ended up enrolled in martial arts “to learn discipline,” but neither of them breathed a word of Matthew. And no one dared bully Matthew after that either, even up through high school.

“Are you mad at me?” Alfred whined, apparently going through all the things that might be bothering Matthew. He scratched at the door making more whining sounds, “Gilbert got over it…mostly… and it wasn’t permanent. Toni and Francis thought it was hilarious!” There was some shuffling and a low, “Bastard deserved it and more.”

Matthew’s eyes flew up wide. What had his brother done to Gilbert?

“Fine, be that way!” Alfred shouted through the door, losing his patience. There was a loud crash as he exited the front door. It was silent for a moment before the door creaked back open and an ominous threat floated back in, “I’ll get Ivan to check on you, since I’m going to be late again tonight. He’ll have the key, so don’t think you can get away from the big guy! I know you’re going to crawl out for food sometime!”

Matthew’s eyes flew open and he tripped himself scrambling out of bed. He did not want to see Alfred or Ivan right now, but between the two, he wanted to see Ivan less because he felt like he broke his promise. And he didn’t want Ivan to see how weak and useless he was. He slammed into the door and fiddled with the lock before spilling out into the hallway.

“Alfred, wait!” his voice was hoarse from disuse and he felt a little light headed from not eating recently. He tripped over his feet, vaguely noting the rug burn and glad he was wearing boxers at least, before reaching the living room. Alfred was beaming in the middle of it, blue eyes twinkling victoriously. That bastard!

“Hiya Mattie.” He greeted amiably with a cool undertone. He was leaned against the doorway casually but Matthew knew how fast his brother could move. And he wasn’t interested in being tackled into the coffee table. “Long time no see.”

Matthew scowled back, mindful of his crazy bedhead and bagged eyes.

“Oh give me a break!” his brother cried, “Why are you mad? C’mon, I recycled the empty cereal box this morning and took out the trash. You wanted me to do that, right? I even did the dishes. I won’t beat Ivan up, I promise! And, really, Gil’s mostly fine. It was only two hours in the emergency room and one embarrassing conversation with the doc about shaving cream cans!”

Matthew forgot how much Alfred hated it when he thought someone was mad at him.

“Er…” Matthew croaked. Why did Alfred have charm like a baby? You know, how babies emitted pheromones to make you love and forgive them after they screamed so hard blood vessels in their little eyeballs popped and you wanted to send them flying from a lack of sleep? That was Alfred. There was a reason Arthur, and apparently Natalia, hadn’t murdered him yet.

“You don’t love me anymore!” Cue the melodramatic.

“I don’t hate you Al.” Matthew whispered, all the fight and flight draining out of him. Might as well get this over with, otherwise he’d have to drop out and move to Canada to escape this stupid situation he was in. He was sure he would find something up there to do that didn’t involve running dog sleds or skinning beavers or something. He liked polar bears and science, maybe he could work on conservation and prove polar bears didn’t like to swim all the time. “Do you hate me?”

Alfred looked pole-axed. He blinked stupidly, processing. Something seemed to click in his head because it snapped up and he stared at Matthew in a way he hadn’t in a long time. Usually he just glanced at his brother over or looked past (over) him. Matthew squirmed uncomfortably, feeling his stomach sink further, cold and heavy. Beads of sweat, however, were breaking out across his forehead and temples and in other places. Just when Matthew thought he couldn’t take the sky blue stare any longer, Alfred blinked and gave a shaky smile.

“Don’t do that!” Matthew demanded harshly. He hated it when his brother smiled like that, like beaming his pretty boy smile could solve every problem. The smile slipped off Alfred’s lip and he cocked his head quizzically but didn’t say anything. Matthew felt a sickening satisfaction at the loss and hissed, “Don’t pretend like everything’s okay! It’s not!”

Alfred scratched his head and sighed, “I don’t get it Mattie.” He slouched hard against the wall, peeking from the corner of his eye, face properly somber. “Why would I hate you?”

“Because… I’m… because… how long?”

“What?”

“How long have you known I was gay?” Matthew demanded coldly, feeling his arms and legs turning cold and heavy like his stomach. It was like little bits of him were turning to ice, and he figured being an ice statue wouldn’t hurt too much after the body was completely numb. “How long have you been pretending to still love me? How long have you been using me?”

Alfred’s head snapped up and he stared another one of those unblinking blue beam stares at Matthew. Matthew’s mauve eyes met his in a measured look, unable to turn away, seeking the truth.

“I’ve known for awhile, but, ah, it wasn’t really my business, right?” Alfred chuckled nervously and ran a hand through his dirty blond hair. Of course, in Alfred terminology ‘not my business’ translated to I’d love to stick my nose in but I’m too busy with me right now. “But… Gilbert? That’s so unawesome. Well, I guess it could’ve been Francis…”

Matthew flushed with embarrassment.

“Francis too? Eww, Mattie, I might have to take back my acceptance if you’re going to have such poor taste!” Alfred grimaced and Matthew glared. Alfred hastily backtracked, “Kidding, kidding! But I am your brother, so I should get a say!”

“But…” Matthew trailed off, wondering why it was so easy. There had to be a hook somewhere.

“But what? I’m sure if Mom and Dad think it’s okay, then it’s okay.” Alfred said with all the wisdom of his sheepeople personality. Trust him not to think too hard and completely ignore the fact that their parents didn’t really approve of Matthew’s choices. He had been away at football camp when his parents found out about Gilbert… and that had not gone well at all. Alfred flashed a reassuring, slightly naïve smile, “Besides, you’re my brother, and I gotta love you! It’s not like I’m getting into bed with guys.”

“So… you’re okay with me being gay?”

“Totally down with it.” Alfred nodded and added happily, “And I don’t think Ivan’s too bad a choice, personally. For a friend, for a friend. I mean, he’s a bit creepy sometimes, but you two seem to get along really well, and I think the big guy’s pretty decent. And you seemed to have convinced him to slack off on the weird staring; that was really getting to me. I know that sometimes other countries are so backwater in their manners, so I was being cool about it, but it was really obnoxious and disturbing. So keep up the good work!”

This was so not happening. Who was this person in front of him? It certainly wasn’t Alfred, his clueless, narcissistic brother. Something was clearly wrong. Maybe one of Arthur’s spells finally did something and switched Alfred with his other self from another reality. Or the football had finally rattled the connections together in his brother’s head and after a few more knocks he’d go back to his usual, blithering self.

“I-Ivan?”

“Yeah, he was asking after you. He was worried you were sick or something. Liz said it was so sweet and Gil just growled and said it was so gay. I told him Ivan was happy around you anyway. Then they laughed at me.” Alfred pouted. He glanced at his watch and yelped, “Oh God, coach is going to chew my ass out! I’m so late.”

Before Matthew could react Alfred had crossed over to him and scooped him up in a massive bear hug, pulling him off the ground. He grinned into Matthew’s neck and shouted, “I love you Mattie!” Then he abruptly dropped him onto the couch and ran off swearing and banging into walls. The apartment shook as he slammed the front door for the second time in ten minutes and then there was silence.

Slowly Matthew picked himself off the couch after un-stunning. He needed a shower and his teeth felt like they were growing moss or fungus on them. After making himself presentable, he wouldn’t want to show up looking like he went on strike in his room for several days after all, he wolfed down some waffles, noting the almost empty milk carton. Sighing, he dumped out the last bit of milk and rinsed it out, putting it in the recycling bin on top of the cereal box. Alfred was such a slob but he tried.

As relieved as he was, he still didn’t feel up the class, so he padded over to the couch and clicked on the tv. He must have dozed off because the next thing he knew the door was opening. Feeling dazed, he glanced over and almost had a heart attack. With an unmanly yelp, he rolled off the couch and stared.

Ivan stared back at him, looking partly surprised, partly amused and holding a small container of something. Matthew dearly hoped it wasn’t from Arthur. He didn’t want food poisoning on top of everything.

“Matthew is feeling better, da?”

Matthew stared past him out the window. Of course he would have a heart attack. It was dusk outside and the light glowed around Ivan’s large frame shadowing his face and body. What a way to wake up, a large Russian breaking into your house and hovering over you with a bowl of soup.

Matthew wanted to growl at him but then realized that Alfred had said he was going to send Ivan over. And that he was going to be late. Late doing what? There weren’t any parties that Matthew knew off and football never went late, all the jocks would have a fit about it cutting into their drinking time.

Shoving that thought to the back of his mind, he squeaked, “Ivan.”

Ivan smiled and set the soup down in front of him, “From Arthur. Alfred asked me see you. He said you were not feeling well.”

“Er, I’m feeling much better now…” Matthew trailed off, looking pleadingly at the soup. He could’ve sworn black tentacles of miasma were curling around the rim. Ivan just smiled expectantly. Matthew gulped and climbed back on the couch to put some more distance between it and him, “S-so, I don’t need s-soup anymore. But it was very nice of Arthur to think of me…”

“But Arthur instructed me to make you drink every last drop. He said he put all of his healing power into it, da?” Ivan replied innocently and the smile grew a bit more. His violet eyes were clear and light and Matthew suddenly realized that was a threat—er, hint.

“I spoke to Al.” Crisis mode activation. Avert, avert! Matthew didn’t think Ivan was as easy to distract as Alfred, but he was getting a little desperate. The last time he had poured Arthur’s cooking into a potted plant, it went up in flames and set off the ceiling sprinklers. Besides, he could see the edges of the container melting. He had always thought Arthur should apply for National Defense; his cooking could be used as a biological and mechanical and chemical weapon.

Ivan paused, waiting patiently, smile still fixed in place.

“Um, you were right. He didn’t care at all.” Matthew mumbled sheepishly, feeling like a big baby. And incredibly lucky. What were the odds his family and friends didn’t care? Despite how it turned out, his fears had been perfectly rational. “He’s known for awhile.”

“This is very good.” Ivan nodded. Matthew searched for a hint of I-told-you-so but he just heard honest satisfaction in the Russian’s voice. A big hand pushed the soup to the side and Ivan pushed his bigger form between the coffee table and the couch to peer down. “My sister wishes to meet my new friends. She is very excited that I—and Natalia—are close to her again, and she will be coming this weekend with her friend.”

“That’s great! I’d love to meet your sister,” Matthew blurted out before remember that Ivan wasn’t as close with his sister as he would’ve liked. He added, “I’ll make sure Alfred’s on his best behavior.” Matthew knew his brother was a little… overwhelming.

The Russian chuckled, clearly taking Matthew’s joke to heart. Matthew crushed the fluffy flutters that were maniacally banging around his chest as Ivan sat down on the couch and leaned back into him. The two sat like that for a moment before Matthew’s stomach grumbled loudly. His eyes widened in panic and he hastily tried to think if Ivan would buy that it was alien radio like Alfred did. 

Unfortunately, Ivan beat him to it.

“Matthew is hungry?”

“I suppose so.”

Ivan considered the soup, which appeared to be eating through the plastic, then said mildly, “The soup is cold. Arthur need not know that you did not eat it. Perhaps we should go eat at Paneras?”

Matthew practically cried in relief. He rushed to scoop up the soup and throw it in the fridge. He’d call about recycling toxic waste later because he didn’t really want to taint the water supply by pouring it down the drain. With any luck, Alfred, with his cast-iron stomach, would eat it and nullify the poison when he was doing his midnight scrounge and save Matthew the trouble of responsible disposal.

He threw on a coat with a small grin. At least something good came out of all of this. He and Ivan now knew where the other stood (not like he didn’t know anyway but it took out that need for the awkward clarification). And Alfred didn’t hate him. All in all, it turned out pretty well.

Omake:

Alfred: here Mattie *holds out condoms* You need them more than I do

Matthew: *blushes* w-what?

Alfred: what? I know how to use Google. I hope you used protection with Francis! Who knows what kind of STDs he has!

Matthew: you didn't use Google; you spoke to Arthur!

Alfred: Arthur told me sleeping with a Frenchman is like sleeping with 200 people! Take these for protection!

Matthew: I have my own, thank you

Alfred: but do yours sparkle?!

Part Ten