Title: Hemingway in Love [1/8]
Author: Melly
Rating: MA/NC-17
Characters/Pairings: France/America (main), also Canada/Netherlands (Stefan), England/Portugal (Gabriel). Allusions to Japan/Taiwan (Meilan) and Poland/Prussia.
Warnings: Language, drinking, references to drug use, and sex in later parts.
Summary: College AU. Alfred and Francis are roommates, then friends, maybe, then something else entirely.
A/N: De-anon from the kink meme. This is really different for me, but I had a blast with it. I hope you all do too. Enjoy!



"Maybe...you'll fall in love with me all over again."
"Hell," I said, "I love you enough now. What do you want to do? Ruin me?"
"Yes. I want to ruin you."
"Good," I said. "That's what I want too."
--A Farewell to Arms, Earnest Hemingway

One week into the school year, and the two worst roommate assignments the University had ever encountered escalated to their breaking points. From the start, Francis Bonnefoy and Arthur Kirkland could be heard arguing at all hours, from who was the best war general to whether or not Arthur’s cooking could be considered a biohazard. On Sunday night, they had both stormed out into the middle of the hall, and like a bad parody of “The Odd Couple,” Arthur chucked a plate of overcooked pasta right at Francis’s head.

Two doors down, the twins Matthew and Alfred had similar, if much more passive-aggressive disputes. The last straw for Matt was Alfred taking down his hockey paraphernalia and replacing all of it with giant posters of Tom Brady. The next day, all of Alfred’s laundry was found scattered around the quad, with a group of female grad students giggling over his rocket ship boxers.

The resident advisor of the floor realized something had to be done, but rather than put any thought into it, he simply made a single switch and hoped for the best. So Arthur went to room with Matthew, and Alfred with Francis.

Truth be told, Francis wasn’t really sure what to expect. He knew Alfred vaguely, mostly through Matt, but not well enough to form an opinion. At least he was sure his new roommate wouldn’t be anything like Arthur at all, and that was always a plus.

“Uh. Hey.” Francis glanced up from his homework to see Alfred, laden with a backpack and a few duffel bags, standing in the doorway.

“Hello.” He closed The Literature of Medieval France for the time being. “Do you need any help?”

“Nah, I got it.” Alfred shook his head, dropping his bags unceremoniously beside the bare bed. He stepped out into the hall again before carrying two small moving boxes into the room and setting them down as well. He looked over at Francis when he was done, grinning brightly. “See? No prob.”

“Mm,” Francis responded, noncommittally, opening his book back up to the marked page. For a few minutes, there was nothing but the sound of Alfred shuffling things around as he unpacked, but eventually, he spoke up again.

“So…I see you hang out with Mattie sometimes, but I’ve never really spoken to you.”

“I had seen you around as well.” Francis turned a page. “I suppose the opportunity for conversation never came up.”

“I guess.” There was another long pause. “What happened with you and Arthur anyway? The whole building was talking about it.”

“Like you and your rocket ship underwear?” Francis looked over his shoulder, watching a hot blush creep up Alfred’s cheeks. He turned around in his seat, smiling a bit, so Alfred understood his quip wasn’t malicious. “We were having an argument, as usual…I don’t remember why we went out into the hall, but I do remember telling Arthur he had a stick as big as his eyebrows shoved up his ass and the next thing I knew, there was a plate coming at my head.”

“No shit?” Alfred was laughing as he placed and hung all his clothing, rather haphazardly, in his half of the closet. At least Francis didn’t see any argyle sweater vests. “You’re lucky he didn’t kill you. Damn sensitive when it comes to those eyebrows.”

“You know him?”

“Er, yeah. We have a mutual friend named Kiku Honda.” Alfred shrugged one shoulder, kicking his empty duffel bags under the bed before moving onto the boxes. “When I went to hang out with him sometimes Arthur was there.”

“Oh.” He watched, thoughtfully, as Alfred perched a small television precariously on the table at the foot of his bed. “Might you be that ‘bloody obnoxious American git’ he mentions sometimes?”

“Ah, yeah, that’s me.” His smile was a bit sheepish as he worked on a mess of wires that all attached to things Francis recognized as videogame consoles, although he wasn’t sure which kind they were. “I tease him about his eyebrows and his tea and his embroidery and he gets annoyed.”

“He has a short fuse with some things…” Francis laughed a bit, leaning his elbow against the back of his chair. “I’ve known him long enough to figure out what really gets under his skin…it is probably the reason we fight so much.”

“Mattie told me you dated Arthur for a bit…or was that just a rumor or somethin’?”

“No, we did.” He waved his hand around vaguely. “For a few months.”

“Why’d you break up, then?” Alfred straightened, turning around expectantly. However, once he saw Francis was more startled than willing to answer, his smile slipped. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry. I sort of blurt stuff out like that—I was just wondering because a breakup would sort of explain why you guys are at each other’s throats all the time.”

“I see.” Francis stared at Alfred critically for a second or two, looking him up and down for the first time since he came into the room. He looked apologetic, adjusting his glasses awkwardly as he waited for Francis to speak. “Arthur and I have argued since we’ve met, practically. It could have been a lot of things, but maybe we stopped dating because fighting and making up over and over again gets tiring.”

“Huh.” Alfred blinked at Francis a few times before turning back around to deal with the last box, which, oddly, contained nothing but a large whiteboard and a foldable wooden easel to stand it on. Alfred tucked these items in the space underneath his desk before straightening and smiling at Francis again. “So I’m starving. Wanna go grab a bite? I’m thinking that Chinese food place on Main sounds pretty good.”

After a moment’s deliberation, Francis nodded, getting up from his chair. “All right. I was starting to get hungry myself, actually.” Alfred grinned in response, grabbing an old leather bomber jacket from where he’d tossed it on his bed earlier and slipping it on.

“Let’s roll.”

They walked in relative silence out of the dorm, and it wasn’t until they were halfway across the quad that Francis decided to voice a question he had been turning over in his mind for a while.

“What are you studying here?” Upon first glance, he really couldn’t tell what Alfred was interested in, besides videogames and American football, but Francis had heard that sort of information from Matt already.

“My major, you mean?” Alfred shoved his hands into his pockets as they walked. “Physics. Quantum mechanics, specifically.”

“Really?” Francis turned his head to stare at the other incredulously.

“Hey!” Alfred just laughed. “I know what you’re thinking, and not everyone into physics stays in their room all day doing equations and shit for fun. Besides, I want to be a teacher, not a researcher.”

“How fitting.” Francis’s lips quirked up into a smile. “I do as well—but literature.”

“What? Really? That’s so cool!” Alfred seemed genuinely excited, engaged, and Francis couldn’t help by feel that the other’s enthusiasm was rather catching. “People say it doesn’t pay much or whatever, but I just want to be able to do and talk about something I really, really like, you know?”

“Yes.” Francis nodded a bit, tugging on the collar of his coat to adjust it, the chill of fall already seeping in. “I know what you mean. What better job than to read books I like and talk about them?”

“Exactly.” Alfred nodded as well, but with far more eagerness. “Well, except I’ll talk about physics, but it’s the same principle! So long as you love what you’re teaching.” He paused long enough to push open the door to the restaurant when they reached it. “But I do know you have to take classes on how to teach and stuff. Hey, maybe we can take those together!”

“No one else you know wants to go into teaching?” Francis slid into one of the booth seats near a window, Alfred taking the space across from him.

“Nah. You’re the first.” He laughed, leaning back in his seat. “And we’re roommates too!”

“Funny how life works that way, sometimes.” Francis turned to smile at the waitress who brought them the menus and hot tea.

“Well, people come into your life for a reason, right?” Alfred reached over to pick up the teapot and pour himself a cup, expression thoughtful. “Or, at least I’d like to think so.”

“I might have to agree with you.” He waited until Alfred was done before pouring some tea for himself. “Or, at the very least, people who come into your life find a reason to stay a while.”

“One or the other.” Alfred broke into another bright grin, something that seemed to be his default expression. Francis just chuckled and raised his teacup.

“To a new year then.”

“Huh…?” He blinked a few times before catching on. “A toast? Really? I can’t remember the last time I did one of those.” But Alfred lifted his own cup, the ceramic making a soft clink sound when he tapped it against Francis’s. “To a new year.”


A/N: Aha, yeah, this was me! I was inspired to do something like this, so I took on this project. It was a crazy but fun ride, I gotta say. And sorta made me adore this pair more than I did before. Anyway, I'll be doing edits to the chapters and then posting them when I can~