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hetalia2011-10-07 11:34 pm
naturethezafara.livejournal.com) wrote in hetalia2011-10-07 11:34 pm
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It's the Roaring Twenties, anything can happen. {uk/japan}
Ahh, I haven't posted this one over here yet! OTL
Um, y-yeah. Originally written for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
love_and_tea "Fanworkathon 2011" event a few months back. This here would be the fixed-up/edited version; you can read the original, unfixed version in my personal LJ. I would've edited it there, honestly, but LJ has this annoying habit of eating up edited pages. .__. So, um, y-yeah.
Fanworkathon prompt: "Learning how to dance. Any medium."
Title: Strike Up The Band
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
naturethezafara | Me
Characters/Pairings: Arthur Kirkland (England) x Kiku Honda (Japan)again, Alfred Jones (America), Toris Laurinaitis (Lithuania), Helena Karpusi (fem!Greece), an unnamed Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo (Spain); blink-and-you'll-miss cameos of some others
Rating: T (Drinking, mild swearing, smoking, shounen-ai, and all the other crazy fun that happens in the typical 1920's speakeasy.)
Warnings: Urgh, where do I begin? Possible historical inaccuracies, behavioral inaccuracies, possible wrong slang usage, possible OOC, Google Translate usage, and especially dance-describing fail. American 1920's human AU.
Summary: He came along to chaperone them, not to receive a drunken dance lesson.
"Oi, what it takes to get a drink in this damn city . . ."
"It's the Prohibition, Arthur-san," Kiku sighed as he watched his friend pour himself another glass of moonshine. The Englishman had only about two small glasses of the thing, and already his face was as red as the circle on the Japanese flag. "It's illegal to drink alcoholic beverages, let alone supply them." As he said this Kiku couldn't help but feel like a hypocrite. Here he was, giving Arthur a lecture on following the 18th Amendment, inside a speakeasy that supplied said illegal alcoholic beverages. The Japanese man couldn't help but sigh and facepalm in his head.
Why am I doing this again?
The sounds of glasses clinking on tables, liquids being poured into containers, obnoxious laughter and idle chatter surrounded the two friends. From where they were Kiku could hear the loud, albeit slurry, voice of Arthur's American cousin ringing through the room, calling for a game of cards or something like that. Beside him, aside from Arthur gulping down the intoxicating liquid, sad-sounding mutterings – poor Toris must've passed out from the liquor he consumed, and was now mumbling unintelligible (or Lithuanian?) words in his sleep. Being the only sober (read: non-drinking) one of his peers Kiku felt like a babysitter of some sort. Ironic, considering he wasn't the eldest in the group. A puff of smoke coming from beside the passed-out Eastern European reached Kiku's nose, causing the Asiatic to make a face and cough. Oh, how he hated cigar smoke.
"Geiá, aren't you going to order something, Sir?," the sleepy-eyed brunette bartender asked Kiku after placing a glass of beverage before the cigar-smoking man from earlier. She walked over to the black-haired man and poked him gently on the forehead. "You've been sitting there for quite a while. Don't you want a drink?"
"Ahh, don't bother asking 'im, Helena," Arthur slurred suddenly, putting his glass down to wrap an arm around Kiku's shoulder. The Asian flushed in response to this sudden movement. "He's one of them lawful types, yeah." (Hiccup) "Only come here to 'watch over us' or something like that. Hey, those were his own words!" A random "Strazdai!" came from the sleeping Lithuanian, as if to agree with the Englishman's statement (or not, depending on what the word even meant). Kiku just stayed silent.
"Oh yeah." The intoxicated Briton pointed to Kiku with his free hand. "This bloke 'ere's name is Kiku. Kiku H-Honda." (Hiccup) "He's come, hic, all the way from Japan to this bloody city just two years ago! And he's new 'ere, too."
"A-ah, hai," Kiku stammered uncomfortably. He promptly moved away from Arthur's arm and gave the bartender a polite bow in his seat. "I-It's nice to meet you too, Helena-san."
"Fysiká, fysiká," Helena replied in her native Greek. She moved her face slightly forward, tilted her head at the nervous Japanese man, and after a while gave her usual sleepy smile. "Ahh, you're adorable~," she commented, patting Kiku on the head like how a cat owner does a cat. It made Kiku feel rather uncomfortable - he didn't like being petted by people he'd just met, especially by people who were way older than him. However he was way too polite to voice his discomfort out, letting the older Grecian flatten his hair down while sitting stiffly in his place.
"He is, isn't he?," Arthur chuckled in agreement. Kiku couldn't help but notice how the Briton had said that, resting his head on his hand and wearing the goofiest alcohol-induced smile the Asian had ever seen. It actually made him look rather adorable—wait, what was he thinking? A brush of pink appeared across Kiku's pale face at the thought.
A loud call from the far end of the bar-table woke Helena from her head-patting. "Ahh, the flappers are getting impatient," she muttered to herself. She craned her neck and looked around the crowd about the gin mill. "My half-brother's probably asleep with the cats again . . ." The Grecian laughed quietly to herself. She turned to the Englishman and his newcomer friend. "Lypámai, I have to tend to the patrons or they'll, um, what do they call it . . . 'cast kittens'? I never really understood flapper talk . . . It was nice to meet you, Mister Kiku . . . "
"Um, it's alright, Helena-san," Kiku urged. "Don't let us keep you here, they must've been waiting for you for quite a while . . . "
Another loud call from the far end of the bar-table rang across the room. "Ah! Érchetai!," the bartender responded, and away she went like the wind. The two friends were left in their seats, watching until the brown-haired woman disappeared amongst the headdresses and feathers of the well-dressed women across the room. Beside them Toris mumbled something again in his sleep.
"Does she or her family own this speakeasy?," Kiku inquired the drunk Arthur as they faced the bar-table once again, the latter helping himself to another glass. The Englishman shook his head woozily.
"Eh? The Karpusis don't own anything in this street," the blond man slurred, hiccupping as he went. "The Vargas family own this joint. Helena an' her half-brother Heracles just work here."
"The Vargas family . . . ah, the owners of the hotel above this place, right?" Kiku pondered over this for a moment. "They don't seem like the type to hide a speakeasy in their property's basement . . ."
Arthur grinned widely at his friend's naïveté. "A lot of them suits actually have hidden gin mills in their establishments. Gain a lot more money that way." (Hiccup) "That, an' there are rumors going about saying they have ties with the underground gangsters." The bushy-eyebrowed man reached for the bottle of bootlegged moonshine and began to pour himself a new one. He smirked at his Eastern companion. "Not that you'd know, of course," he taunted.
Of course, Kiku wasn't amused by this remark at all. "Oh please, Arthur-san," he retorted dryly, his mouth turned to a small worried frown. "It's the law. All this sneaking into illegal establishments and ties with the underground mafia and whatnot are going to get you and Alfred-san and Toris-san in jail sooner or later." The black-haired youngster turned his head away from Arthur and huffed. "The only reason I came along with you to this place was so that you don't do anything that would get you imprisoned or worse. I don't wish for anything to happen to you . . . O-or your cousin and his friend for that matter!" A surging wave of heat fell across Kiku's face as he stammered.
As he watched his friend drink up the contents of the small glass Kiku couldn't help but reminisce. It had been two years since he and his family – parents, older brother, twin sister and all – came to this country all the way from Ishikawa. The city was a new experience when he first stepped foot into it – the lights, the sounds, the buildings, the food, the entertainment, virtually everything was very different from what he was used to. He felt rather out-of-place as someone used to his native customs in the land of jazz music and flapper girls, and though now he was mostly used to it he still had a lot of culture shock-inducing moments. Thankfully he was able to mostly get by with the help of a new friend – an English immigrant living with his older and younger brothers in the same apartment his own family resided in. Despite their four-year age difference and Arthur being very hesitant about befriending his new Asian neighbour at first (a case of tsundere, perhaps?), the two soon got along swimmingly. Though he had eventually met other people in this new world as well, Kiku had to say that Arthur Kirkland was still his closest friend. Which would probably explain why he was here in the speakeasy in the first place. Ah.
"Heey, you fellas still here~?," a familiar loud voice cut Kiku's train of thought. Alfred suddenly popped up between his cousin and the Asiatic and slung his arms around each man's shoulders, laughing his mouth off. His breath smelled like whiskey, and he was wobbling. "Ain't this just Jake? A nice group of pals, out on a night of, hic, fu-un . . ."
"Bugger off, git!," his suddenly irritated cousin shot.
"Ahh, i-it seems you are drunk as well, Alfred-san . . .," Kiku could only murmur. He looked at the drunken Arthur with his peripheral vision. No matter how much these two don't get along, it's obvious that they are truly relatives. Beside him Toris shifted slightly in his sleep, muttering a meek "A-atsiprašau, Panele Natalija . . ." before keeping quiet again.
Alfred didn't hear what the Asian had said. "Eh," (Hiccup) "Go drink your noodle juice, killjoy," he retorted towards Arthur, withdrawing the arm slung around the Briton to his side. Arthur continued to glare at his cousin as the American turned his attentions towards the uncomfortable Japanese man his other arm still remained on. "H-how's our—" (Hiccup) "—self-proclaimed fire extinguisher liking the place, h-hmm~?" He leaned over unstably and patted Kiku on the shoulder, blue eyes half-closed. His face, too, was red with the effects of whiskey. "I mean, s-sure it ain't the Ritz, but—" (Hiccup) "—at least it's a fun place, yeah?"
Kiku sighed in melancholy and slight exasperation. He looked up at Alfred, then looked at Arthur, then craned his neck to look at Toris passed out on the bar-table. He shook his head. "Honestly," he began in a firm yet meek tone, hoping that his next words wouldn't anger his friends, "I-I think we should all just go home . . ."
"Go home? Aw, Ki-kuuuu, don't be such a wet blanket," Alfred whined in drunken splendour. "The dance's just—" (Hiccup) "—about to begin!"
"Dance? What dance, the bloody band hasn't even come 'ere yet!," Arthur countered, reaching out an arm to whack his cousin across the head, just as a smart-looking blond bespectacled man with a saxophone in his hands passed by them.
"O-ow! That hurt, you—" (Hiccup) "—damn Limey!"
"Ha! You—" (Hiccup) "—deserved it, moron!"
"Go date a face stretcher!" (Hiccup)
At all this it became clear to Kiku that no one was going to listen to him, let alone leave the speakeasy, so he just sighed and gave up the fight to convince the others out. He inched away from Alfred's embracing arm and fixed his posture, looking very sullen and defeated. Another waft of cigar smoke floated towards him, making him cough miserably.
"Ah, another round's coming—" (Hiccup) "—up," the American laughed. "And soon the dance'll start!" He stepped back from his speakeasy companions and saluted them. He looked incredibly disoriented. "I'll see you birds later~" And with that Alfred went back to the patrons he had been playing with earlier, his loud drunken voice ringing throughout the room. Arthur put his glass down on the bar-table and seethed.
"Bloody hell," he muttered under his breath. He took another sip of moonshine. "Don't even know why he made me come along with this rubbish . . . you alright?" His tone, though obviously still drunk, softened a bit when he saw Kiku looking dismal in his seat, head hung low. The Japanese man looked up at the query, sighed and shook his head. "Nevermind it, Arthur-san . . ."
The Englishman tilted his head at Kiku with an expression that was rather hard for Kiku to interpret. He looked very much drunk and slightly glazed over; however there was something akin to concern in his eyes and small frown as well. After an awkward silence Arthur sighed himself, and took another sip. "Hey," he began in a slightly wobbly voice, "don't look—" (Hiccup) "—so down, K-Kiku." He reached out and laid his hand on the Asian's shoulder. "Tonight's a happy night. Don't want it to be ruined for you." He gave Kiku another warm, alcohol-induced smile and slid his hand from Kiku's shoulder to his hand. "So, smile for me, yeah?"
Kiku felt his face go warm at all this. He felt rather uneasy at Arthur holding his hand in such a way; however at the same time there was a positive emotion he couldn't comprehend flowing through him during this moment. The way Arthur had been speaking to him about his unhappiness – obviously intoxicated, yet with a sincerity he usually only showed his Japanese friend – amused and warmed Kiku somewhat and even coerced him into smiling a small smile despite himself (anxiety over breaking the law notwithstanding, of course). Maybe Arthur and Alfred had been right – maybe he did need to loosen up a bit, even just for a night. "Ah, alright, Arthur-san. If you say so."
A hiccup. "Jolly good." The moonshine must've really gotten into Arthur, for he began to lean forward pretty dangerously towards Kiku and almost—
"Hey everybody!" A loud voice rang throughout the speakeasy, causing Arthur to jerk away backwards and Kiku to blink in utter confusion. All heads turned towards the source of the sudden announcement all except one - Toris continued to snooze away, muttering more things in his native language as he went.
The announcer, a dapper-looking man with messy brown hair, green eyes and a smile as wide as a banana turned sideways waved to the audience, a microphone in his free hand. "Nice to see all my amigos and amigas doing great, sí?" A clamour of hoots and happy shouts filled the air, as well as some applause. Arthur was one of the hooters, and Kiku was sure he heard Alfred and Helena somewhere in the drunken noise; he, on his part, clapped politely. The emcee welcomed the applause gratefully.
"Very good, very good!," the Iberian grinned. "Now that we're ensured to be having a swell time, the real whoopee can begin! Every night in this here place is a party, and what would a party be without a little música y baile? That would be terrible!" Sounds of wholesome agreement came from the patrons. "And because we wanna keep those birds happy while they enjoy their drinks, I invited over tonight some special friends! They had a hard time coming over, mainly because this place is very top-secret, but now they're here and roaring to get those hot feet moving! So, all you Oliver Twists and heelers, come on down and show us your thing! Mis maravillosos clientes, presenting one of the best from Tin Pan Alley, sólo para ustedes – The Nationals!" With a sweeping flourish the emcee presented the aforementioned band, a small but hearty group of men with various jazz instruments in their holding. They waved humbly at the patrons, who greeted them with much applause and cheer.
At the emcee's instruction the crowd made a wide circle-shaped clearing in the middle of the speakeasy floor. The first note of the band was heard, and soon enough couples – fancy men, flapper girls and all - began to fill up the space, dancing like there was no tomorrow. As his friend continued to drink Kiku couldn't help but stare at the way they all danced – various step-forwards, step-backs, sideways, kicks, turns, all kinds of incredibly fast dancing that went along with the glorious jazz playing in the background. He had absolutely no idea that this was how people danced nowadays - it was pretty obvious that Kiku wasn't the very social type, and hardly went to dancehalls - let alone how to dance with those steps in that pace. Though he admired the dancers and their way of getting it down he was comfortable enough to just watch them in his seat. Kiku didn't think of himself as the dancer type, anyway.
However his plans of peaceful watching were disrupted when a certain drunk Englishman got up from his seat and, to Kiku's utmost surprise, pulled him out of his own seat – and towards the dance floor. The Asian's face grew a most embarrassed shade of red, and he couldn't help but sputter in disbelief. "A-Arthur-san?! What—"
The moonshine really must've gotten to Arthur, for he was grinning madly and staggering about like a monkey on twenty barrels of vodka. "It's the dance, i-isn't it?," he hiccupped, taking hold of both his friend's hands. "The we should—" (Hiccup) "—go along too~!" Kiku's eyes widened at this proposal – this can't be good.
"N-Nani?! Arthur-san, y-you can't just pull someone out on the dance floor like this!" His face was getting redder and redder now. "Besides, w-we're both men—"
"Ah, bollocks what they think!" (Hiccup) "It just a dance between friends, isn't it?"
"—and I don't even know how to dance," Kiku stressed, contorting his face into an extremely embarrassed and conscious (and very adorable) expression. "Especially dances like – dances like this! You know that, don't you? Really, Arthur-san, I should've brought you and the others outside earlier! But you're all too stubborn—"
"—Then I'll teach you how to dance it, yeah?" Arthur continued to smile at his unwilling dance partner. "C'mon, love, it's not that hard! It's—" (Hiccup) "—rather easy to learn, actually." He wobbled in place a bit, and Kiku was obliged to help him find his footing. Once he was up again correctly, he went straight to business. "Okay, f-first off, you do this. Follow as I do it, o-okay?" Holding each of Kiku's hands in his own, the Briton demonstrated the apparent first steps of the dance – step forward, step together.
Kiku couldn't help but sigh at his friend's antics. "You really are drunk, aren't you . . .?," he murmured, shaking his head lightly. But nonetheless, partly to humor Arthur, partly to avoid losing either of their footing, and partly because secretly he would've liked to know how these Western jazz dances went, the young man went along with this drunken "dance lesson".
It was almost like a waltz, except it obviously wasn't. As Arthur stepped forward, Kiku stepped back, then they both stopped; afterwards Kiku stepped forward, Arthur stepped back, then they both stopped again – this was repeated a few times until Kiku got it (with a few missteps along the way, but it was expected).
"S-see? Now yer—" (Hiccup) "—getting it!," Arthur exclaimed, albeit still very slurry. Kiku couldn't help but smile despite himself – he felt rather accomplished at actually being able to get a dance step correctly. Presently the blonde one began again. "Okay, n-now bend—" (Hiccup) "—bend your knees at each step . . ."
Despite the other well-versed-in-dance couples and the other activities around them, the dance lesson between the two went on. Surprisingly enough Arthur's intoxication didn't really get in the way of his dancing skills; in fact, it was a pleasant surprise to see that he was actually pretty good at these things. On Kiku's part, the Japanese man tried his very best to pay attention to what his dance partner had been teaching him; it was hard to hear all what Arthur was saying, given the music and chatter and laughter going about them, so he mostly resorted to looking down at Arthur's feet for reference. There were many missteps on part of both – Kiku due to his learner status and nerves, and Arthur because he was, well, drunk – and it had irritated some of the nearby patrons (an irritated flapper even pointed them out to her friends, calling them 'heeler fags' or something); but nonetheless it was all going well. All uneasiness and anxiety melted away from Kiku at this point, and soon he had almost completely beginning to forget that he was in an illegal alcohol-supplying joint , or that he and Arthur were the only same-sex dance partners in the stands – all that was on his mind was the dancing. He was, for once throughout the whole night, having a lot of fun with this.
For once, also, he had noticed how green Arthur's eyes really were.
"Haha! Now you're on the—" (Hiccup) "—trolley!," Arthur laughed once Kiku found himself dancing the Flat Charleston correctly. Kiku couldn't help but laugh himself. Soon, he too knew how to dance those steps he thought were hard – those step-forwards, step-backwards, sideways, kicks, turns and everything else (though with a lot of mistakes and missteps, but neither of the two minded). Like the other couples, the two had also being going about the circle as they danced. This gave Kiku the opportunity to look around almost the whole speakeasy, and when he turned his head to the side to do so his brown eyes widened in wonder at the bustling activity going about him. He could see the announcer dancing with a blond-haired woman in a pink dress – someone coughing up a load of cigar smoke – some boys his age or older clapping to the music and hooting – a girl dancing saucily by herself – Toris still asleep in his seat – an older couple chatting away – a blond man with slicked-back hair seating his date – Helena smiling and shaking her head as a very intoxicated Alfred tried asking her out – a group of flappers toasting – someone sleeping by the door, a cat in his lap – the musicians having fun as they played – Kiku had never, in all his life, seen anything so vibrant and joyous, so wild and fresh. He couldn't help but get caught up in the festivities himself, laughing as he danced with his nimble British friend. Then he turned again to face Arthur, who suddenly lunged forward and, in drunken stupor most likely, kissed Kiku straight on the lips. Time stood still at that moment, and for a while, though surprised, Kiku closed his eyes . . .
. . . until he came to a realization as to what he was doing. The Japanese man's entire face grew redder than a tomato – even redder that Arthur's alcohol-induced flushes – and he jerked away from him, just as the music reached its highest peak. Thankfully mostly everyone else was too drunk or too busy dancing to have seen the kiss (though Kiku was sure he could feel some glaring eyes on him and oh no some people were staring and talking about it weren't they oh dammit) and it didn't disrupt the events going around them at all. The two continued to dance, steps and kicks and all, except Kiku didn't anymore feel the pure excitement he had earlier at dancing these steps – just embarrassment and nervousness. (Though there was a tinge of positive emotion coursing through him, he just couldn't identify it.) Throughout the remaining dance, he avoided looking at anyone's gaze – especially the Briton's – and as he went kept praying silently that the dance end soon.
And shortly afterwards, it did. The last note from the saxophone faded, and the Nationals put down their instruments to applaud the dancers. The audience themselves also applauded for them. Kiku breathed a sigh of relief as he let go of Arthur and, out of pure obligation and friendship and nothing else he swears, trudged them both back to their seats at the bar-table. The Asian's usually pale face was now red all over, and he kept quiet throughout their walk back from the dance floor. He could hear some people whispering behind him – whether or not it was about him and Arthur, he did not want to know.
"Ahh, that dance was great~!," Arthur exclaimed once he and Kiku were back in their seats. He took for his glass and poured a bit of drink in it. "Wasn't it, K-" (Hiccup) "-Kiku?" The Japanese man turned to him painfully, his face red and sweaty, his brown eyes looked sad and his mouth etched in a thin line. Part of him wanted to slap Arthur-san then and there and give him an angry and embarrassed lecture on propriety, but he held himself back. He didn't want any more people staring.
He was drunk, Kiku. He didn't know what he was doing. The next day he'll forget about it and everything will be back to normal. Shinpai shinaide! Finally the Asian sigh and forced a small smile toward his friend. "H-hai, it was, Arthur-san."
"He-ey!" Presently Alfred popped up beside his cousin again. He seemed just as drunk as before. "That dance was the bee's knees! Whoo! Didn't know you were such an Oliver Twist, cuz! And Kiku, wowee, you sure you don't hang around dance halls? Not bad, not bad!" At this Kiku froze, then covered his face with his hands. Ahh, please tell me he didn't see it, please tell me he didn't see it! However he didn't speak a word. The cigarette man blew another puff of smoke towards Kiku's direction. Mentally he groaned. I'm never going out with them again!
Then suddenly Toris stirred from his sleeping position on the bar and inched his head upwards. "M-mmrm, k-kas atsitiko . . .? W-what the hell happened?" All his companions looked at him weirdly as he asked.
"You were asleep, Toris-san," Kiku stated plainly.
"Oww, my-my head . . .," the Lithuanian went on. He got up from his seat and, wobbling, tried to stand up straight – only for him to crash down on the floor beside the cigar-smoking man. Kiku immediately responded by getting off his seat and helping the Eastern European up correctly. Arthur and Alfred tried to help too, but their intoxication got in the way and they didn't do much. Helena passed by them once all four up on their feet (three of them staggering), with a small cat sitting comfortably on her shoulder. "Oh, what's wrong with him?," she inquired them, motioning towards Toris with her head. Kiku sighed – he was beginning to feel tired.
"He just got up, Helena-san," he explained, trying to keep the dizzy brunet up. "His head's been hurting as well . . . w-what time is it, by the way?"
"Ah, a hangover. Don't worry, hopefully he'll be okay in a few hours or so." Helena looked towards a clock hanging on the wall just beside the drink disposal. "And it's . . . um . . . 1 AM already or something. Why?"
1 AM?!
"Ah, damn it, I have work tomorrow!," Arthur exclaimed, slapping his forehead with his palm. Alfred was on panic mode too. "Oh man, my boss is so going to kill me!" "Ohh, my family must be wondering where I am!," Kiku despaired. The only one not panicking among the four was Toris – his head hurt too much for him to worry about anything else.
"W-we should be getting a wiggle on home, al—" (Hiccup) "—ready," Alfred stated, taking Toris from Kiku and placing himself under the green-eyed Lithuanian's arm to support him. (I was telling you we should go home earlier, wasn't I?!, Kiku thought irritably.) "Thanks for the drinks, Hel—" (Hiccup) "—Helena!" The Grecian nodded in reply, and went back to work just as Alfred and Toris staggered their way out towards the exit. Kiku sighed in exasperation, then went to follow them when a hand laid itself of his shoulder.
"'Ey, you alright?"
Kiku turned to look up at Arthur, still drunk yet sincere, his eyes as green as they could be. The Englishman has his concerned look on again. The Asian blushed heavily, remembering what had just happened on the dance floor moments ago, and looked down at the floor; afterwards forced himself to look up at his friend and gave a small nod.
"Jolly good." With that, Arthur slung his arm around the red-faced Japanese man and the two hobbled their way towards the exit themselves.
Kiku didn't tell him, until after many months, that he actually quite enjoyed that kiss.
translations and slang terms.
japanese:
* hai - yes
* nani?! - what?!
* shinpai shinaide! - don't worry!
lithuanian:
* strazdai! - blackbirds! (LOL random XD)
* atsiprašau, panele natalija . . . - I'm sorry, miss natalya . . .
* kas atsitiko? - what happened?
greek:
* geiá - hey
* fysiká, fysiká - of course, of course
* lypámai - I'm sorry
* érchetai! - coming!
spanish:
* amigos/amigas - friends (male and female terms, respectively)
* sí - yes
* música y baile - music and dancing
* mis maravillosos clientes - my wonderful patrons
* sólo para ustedes - just for you
20's american slang:
* gin mill - cheap speakeasy
* cast kittens (cast a kitten) - throw a fit
* bootleg - illegal
* jake - great
* noodle juice - tea
* fire extinguisher - chaperone
* the ritz - grand, high-class
* limey - british soldier/citizen
* face stretcher - old woman who tries to make herself look young
* birds - general slang term for a person
* whoopee - wild fun
* oliver twist - skilled dancer
* heeler -failpoor dancer
* fag - homosexual (also means cigarette)
* now you're on the trolley! - now you've got it!
* the bee's knees - terrific
* get a wiggle on - get going
notes and commentary.
* Originally the fic I was going to write for this prompt had the standard 'England teaches Japan the waltz' storyplot; however my muse wasn't cooperating with it. Then one night, while despairing over it, I was listening to an instrumental jazz cover of the Miku Hatsune song 'Tōsenbo' (I love Baguettes Ensemble *A*), and then my muse thought of incorporating the 'teach how to dance' prompt in the Jazz Age setting. And I don't regret anything. <3
* I'm putting the setting at 1924, because I wanted to put it in a time slightly earlier than the mid-20's. Yeah, I'm aware it's just a year after the dissolution of the Anglo-Japanese Alliance, but since this is a human AU, why not? Also, the fic is most likely set somewhere in New York city - that's where Tin Pan Alley (the '20s term for New York's music industry, located between 48th and 52nd street) is found.
* The period from 1920 to 1933 was called the Prohibition era. In 1920 the 18th amendment was passed, which made the consumption/buying/supply of alcoholic drinks illegal.
* A speakeasy was an illegal bar where people could go if they wanted a drink. Usually they were owned/run by underground gansters, such as the mafia. A speakeasy must always be hidden, as not to get caught by authorities - one could be hidden virtually anywhere (i.e. in the anime BACCANO!, a speakeasy was hidden inside a honey shop), so I assumed there weren some swanky hotels back in the day that hid a speakeasy or two in their basements. XD And I'm not sure if musicians/bands performed in speakeasies, but based on what I read in this website, it seems probable.
* Concerning Helena - The 20's were a time where women began to be aware of their rights and fought for equality, so I think there were some female bartenders already during the time (despite the fact that most of the speakeasy bartenders I've seen in pictures were male). Also, it must be confusing that Helena is more alert and less slow-talking than her counterpart Heracles is when she's basically his Nyotalia self. Some friends told me that the Nyotalias are essentially different from their canon selves, which might explain Helena's slight differences from her half-brother.
* Speaking of which, yes, I'm aware that in canon Arthur becomes an angry ball of cusswords when drunk; however I doubt that's always the case.ButhenagainIneverdrankalcoholicbeverages >.>;;
* Concerning the (Hiccup)s - I've seen a book wherein the sounds made by characters in the middle of dialogue were inserted with parentheses. I think it was A.A. Milne's Winne-the-Pooh - I'm not entirely sure, I think I'm wrong - but if it was, said book was written in the 20's as well, so. XD
* 'despite their four-year age difference' - In Nature fanon Kiku is only nineteen years old, making Arthur 23 (which is also his age in canon). Both Alfred and Toris are confirmed to be 19, Helena is fanonically 26 (a year younger than Heracles' canon age), and Antonio is canonically 25.
* 'a case of tsundere, perhaps?' - No, I doubt the word 'tsundere' existed back then, but I couldn't help it. >w>
* Erm, I don't know where the name 'The Nationals' came from. XD;;
* The dance Arthur initially teaches Kiku is what we call the Charleston, a type of swing dance that was extremely popular during the day. Believe me, I tried searching for ways to get the dance moves across; however describing movements was never my strong point. OTL I got the first few steps from this video, then I just went and took whatever I could from other videos I've seen of 20's dances (mainly this one). >_>;;
* As I wrote this fic, not only did I have to go through research, but I went and listened to a lot of jazz too~ Okay, I admit, the jazz I listened to weren't strictly from the Jazz Age itself - in fact, most of them were modern jazz pieces - but they certainly helped in setting the mood. Among the ones I listened to were Baguettes Ensemble's instrumental jazz covers of Vocaloid songs (mainly 'Tōsenbo' and 'Double Lariat'), several tracks from the BACCANO! OST, and 'All That Jazz' from the musical Chicago. I also listened to the music that came along with the dance videos linked above.
* Can you find Estonia, Belgium, Germany and male!Greece in the fic? :3
Please, if you speak Japanese/Lithuanian/Greek, would you kindly help me correct the translated terms? I really want to get the languages correct, after all. <3
This was very fun to research for and write~! I think I should write more 20's-set AUs in the future, hee~ <3
Please do tell me what you think! ^_^
X-posted tolove_and_tea.
why must I have exams
Um, y-yeah. Originally written for the
love_and_tea "Fanworkathon 2011" event a few months back. This here would be the fixed-up/edited version; you can read the original, unfixed version in my personal LJ. I would've edited it there, honestly, but LJ has this annoying habit of eating up edited pages. .__. So, um, y-yeah.Fanworkathon prompt: "Learning how to dance. Any medium."
Title: Strike Up The Band
Author:
naturethezafara | MeCharacters/Pairings: Arthur Kirkland (England) x Kiku Honda (Japan)
Rating: T (Drinking, mild swearing, smoking, shounen-ai, and all the other crazy fun that happens in the typical 1920's speakeasy.)
Warnings: Urgh, where do I begin? Possible historical inaccuracies, behavioral inaccuracies, possible wrong slang usage, possible OOC, Google Translate usage, and especially dance-describing fail. American 1920's human AU.
Summary: He came along to chaperone them, not to receive a drunken dance lesson.
Strike Up The Band
"Oi, what it takes to get a drink in this damn city . . ."
"It's the Prohibition, Arthur-san," Kiku sighed as he watched his friend pour himself another glass of moonshine. The Englishman had only about two small glasses of the thing, and already his face was as red as the circle on the Japanese flag. "It's illegal to drink alcoholic beverages, let alone supply them." As he said this Kiku couldn't help but feel like a hypocrite. Here he was, giving Arthur a lecture on following the 18th Amendment, inside a speakeasy that supplied said illegal alcoholic beverages. The Japanese man couldn't help but sigh and facepalm in his head.
Why am I doing this again?
The sounds of glasses clinking on tables, liquids being poured into containers, obnoxious laughter and idle chatter surrounded the two friends. From where they were Kiku could hear the loud, albeit slurry, voice of Arthur's American cousin ringing through the room, calling for a game of cards or something like that. Beside him, aside from Arthur gulping down the intoxicating liquid, sad-sounding mutterings – poor Toris must've passed out from the liquor he consumed, and was now mumbling unintelligible (or Lithuanian?) words in his sleep. Being the only sober (read: non-drinking) one of his peers Kiku felt like a babysitter of some sort. Ironic, considering he wasn't the eldest in the group. A puff of smoke coming from beside the passed-out Eastern European reached Kiku's nose, causing the Asiatic to make a face and cough. Oh, how he hated cigar smoke.
"Geiá, aren't you going to order something, Sir?," the sleepy-eyed brunette bartender asked Kiku after placing a glass of beverage before the cigar-smoking man from earlier. She walked over to the black-haired man and poked him gently on the forehead. "You've been sitting there for quite a while. Don't you want a drink?"
"Ahh, don't bother asking 'im, Helena," Arthur slurred suddenly, putting his glass down to wrap an arm around Kiku's shoulder. The Asian flushed in response to this sudden movement. "He's one of them lawful types, yeah." (Hiccup) "Only come here to 'watch over us' or something like that. Hey, those were his own words!" A random "Strazdai!" came from the sleeping Lithuanian, as if to agree with the Englishman's statement (or not, depending on what the word even meant). Kiku just stayed silent.
"Oh yeah." The intoxicated Briton pointed to Kiku with his free hand. "This bloke 'ere's name is Kiku. Kiku H-Honda." (Hiccup) "He's come, hic, all the way from Japan to this bloody city just two years ago! And he's new 'ere, too."
"A-ah, hai," Kiku stammered uncomfortably. He promptly moved away from Arthur's arm and gave the bartender a polite bow in his seat. "I-It's nice to meet you too, Helena-san."
"Fysiká, fysiká," Helena replied in her native Greek. She moved her face slightly forward, tilted her head at the nervous Japanese man, and after a while gave her usual sleepy smile. "Ahh, you're adorable~," she commented, patting Kiku on the head like how a cat owner does a cat. It made Kiku feel rather uncomfortable - he didn't like being petted by people he'd just met, especially by people who were way older than him. However he was way too polite to voice his discomfort out, letting the older Grecian flatten his hair down while sitting stiffly in his place.
"He is, isn't he?," Arthur chuckled in agreement. Kiku couldn't help but notice how the Briton had said that, resting his head on his hand and wearing the goofiest alcohol-induced smile the Asian had ever seen. It actually made him look rather adorable—wait, what was he thinking? A brush of pink appeared across Kiku's pale face at the thought.
A loud call from the far end of the bar-table woke Helena from her head-patting. "Ahh, the flappers are getting impatient," she muttered to herself. She craned her neck and looked around the crowd about the gin mill. "My half-brother's probably asleep with the cats again . . ." The Grecian laughed quietly to herself. She turned to the Englishman and his newcomer friend. "Lypámai, I have to tend to the patrons or they'll, um, what do they call it . . . 'cast kittens'? I never really understood flapper talk . . . It was nice to meet you, Mister Kiku . . . "
"Um, it's alright, Helena-san," Kiku urged. "Don't let us keep you here, they must've been waiting for you for quite a while . . . "
Another loud call from the far end of the bar-table rang across the room. "Ah! Érchetai!," the bartender responded, and away she went like the wind. The two friends were left in their seats, watching until the brown-haired woman disappeared amongst the headdresses and feathers of the well-dressed women across the room. Beside them Toris mumbled something again in his sleep.
"Does she or her family own this speakeasy?," Kiku inquired the drunk Arthur as they faced the bar-table once again, the latter helping himself to another glass. The Englishman shook his head woozily.
"Eh? The Karpusis don't own anything in this street," the blond man slurred, hiccupping as he went. "The Vargas family own this joint. Helena an' her half-brother Heracles just work here."
"The Vargas family . . . ah, the owners of the hotel above this place, right?" Kiku pondered over this for a moment. "They don't seem like the type to hide a speakeasy in their property's basement . . ."
Arthur grinned widely at his friend's naïveté. "A lot of them suits actually have hidden gin mills in their establishments. Gain a lot more money that way." (Hiccup) "That, an' there are rumors going about saying they have ties with the underground gangsters." The bushy-eyebrowed man reached for the bottle of bootlegged moonshine and began to pour himself a new one. He smirked at his Eastern companion. "Not that you'd know, of course," he taunted.
Of course, Kiku wasn't amused by this remark at all. "Oh please, Arthur-san," he retorted dryly, his mouth turned to a small worried frown. "It's the law. All this sneaking into illegal establishments and ties with the underground mafia and whatnot are going to get you and Alfred-san and Toris-san in jail sooner or later." The black-haired youngster turned his head away from Arthur and huffed. "The only reason I came along with you to this place was so that you don't do anything that would get you imprisoned or worse. I don't wish for anything to happen to you . . . O-or your cousin and his friend for that matter!" A surging wave of heat fell across Kiku's face as he stammered.
As he watched his friend drink up the contents of the small glass Kiku couldn't help but reminisce. It had been two years since he and his family – parents, older brother, twin sister and all – came to this country all the way from Ishikawa. The city was a new experience when he first stepped foot into it – the lights, the sounds, the buildings, the food, the entertainment, virtually everything was very different from what he was used to. He felt rather out-of-place as someone used to his native customs in the land of jazz music and flapper girls, and though now he was mostly used to it he still had a lot of culture shock-inducing moments. Thankfully he was able to mostly get by with the help of a new friend – an English immigrant living with his older and younger brothers in the same apartment his own family resided in. Despite their four-year age difference and Arthur being very hesitant about befriending his new Asian neighbour at first (a case of tsundere, perhaps?), the two soon got along swimmingly. Though he had eventually met other people in this new world as well, Kiku had to say that Arthur Kirkland was still his closest friend. Which would probably explain why he was here in the speakeasy in the first place. Ah.
"Heey, you fellas still here~?," a familiar loud voice cut Kiku's train of thought. Alfred suddenly popped up between his cousin and the Asiatic and slung his arms around each man's shoulders, laughing his mouth off. His breath smelled like whiskey, and he was wobbling. "Ain't this just Jake? A nice group of pals, out on a night of, hic, fu-un . . ."
"Bugger off, git!," his suddenly irritated cousin shot.
"Ahh, i-it seems you are drunk as well, Alfred-san . . .," Kiku could only murmur. He looked at the drunken Arthur with his peripheral vision. No matter how much these two don't get along, it's obvious that they are truly relatives. Beside him Toris shifted slightly in his sleep, muttering a meek "A-atsiprašau, Panele Natalija . . ." before keeping quiet again.
Alfred didn't hear what the Asian had said. "Eh," (Hiccup) "Go drink your noodle juice, killjoy," he retorted towards Arthur, withdrawing the arm slung around the Briton to his side. Arthur continued to glare at his cousin as the American turned his attentions towards the uncomfortable Japanese man his other arm still remained on. "H-how's our—" (Hiccup) "—self-proclaimed fire extinguisher liking the place, h-hmm~?" He leaned over unstably and patted Kiku on the shoulder, blue eyes half-closed. His face, too, was red with the effects of whiskey. "I mean, s-sure it ain't the Ritz, but—" (Hiccup) "—at least it's a fun place, yeah?"
Kiku sighed in melancholy and slight exasperation. He looked up at Alfred, then looked at Arthur, then craned his neck to look at Toris passed out on the bar-table. He shook his head. "Honestly," he began in a firm yet meek tone, hoping that his next words wouldn't anger his friends, "I-I think we should all just go home . . ."
"Go home? Aw, Ki-kuuuu, don't be such a wet blanket," Alfred whined in drunken splendour. "The dance's just—" (Hiccup) "—about to begin!"
"Dance? What dance, the bloody band hasn't even come 'ere yet!," Arthur countered, reaching out an arm to whack his cousin across the head, just as a smart-looking blond bespectacled man with a saxophone in his hands passed by them.
"O-ow! That hurt, you—" (Hiccup) "—damn Limey!"
"Ha! You—" (Hiccup) "—deserved it, moron!"
"Go date a face stretcher!" (Hiccup)
At all this it became clear to Kiku that no one was going to listen to him, let alone leave the speakeasy, so he just sighed and gave up the fight to convince the others out. He inched away from Alfred's embracing arm and fixed his posture, looking very sullen and defeated. Another waft of cigar smoke floated towards him, making him cough miserably.
"Ah, another round's coming—" (Hiccup) "—up," the American laughed. "And soon the dance'll start!" He stepped back from his speakeasy companions and saluted them. He looked incredibly disoriented. "I'll see you birds later~" And with that Alfred went back to the patrons he had been playing with earlier, his loud drunken voice ringing throughout the room. Arthur put his glass down on the bar-table and seethed.
"Bloody hell," he muttered under his breath. He took another sip of moonshine. "Don't even know why he made me come along with this rubbish . . . you alright?" His tone, though obviously still drunk, softened a bit when he saw Kiku looking dismal in his seat, head hung low. The Japanese man looked up at the query, sighed and shook his head. "Nevermind it, Arthur-san . . ."
The Englishman tilted his head at Kiku with an expression that was rather hard for Kiku to interpret. He looked very much drunk and slightly glazed over; however there was something akin to concern in his eyes and small frown as well. After an awkward silence Arthur sighed himself, and took another sip. "Hey," he began in a slightly wobbly voice, "don't look—" (Hiccup) "—so down, K-Kiku." He reached out and laid his hand on the Asian's shoulder. "Tonight's a happy night. Don't want it to be ruined for you." He gave Kiku another warm, alcohol-induced smile and slid his hand from Kiku's shoulder to his hand. "So, smile for me, yeah?"
Kiku felt his face go warm at all this. He felt rather uneasy at Arthur holding his hand in such a way; however at the same time there was a positive emotion he couldn't comprehend flowing through him during this moment. The way Arthur had been speaking to him about his unhappiness – obviously intoxicated, yet with a sincerity he usually only showed his Japanese friend – amused and warmed Kiku somewhat and even coerced him into smiling a small smile despite himself (anxiety over breaking the law notwithstanding, of course). Maybe Arthur and Alfred had been right – maybe he did need to loosen up a bit, even just for a night. "Ah, alright, Arthur-san. If you say so."
A hiccup. "Jolly good." The moonshine must've really gotten into Arthur, for he began to lean forward pretty dangerously towards Kiku and almost—
"Hey everybody!" A loud voice rang throughout the speakeasy, causing Arthur to jerk away backwards and Kiku to blink in utter confusion. All heads turned towards the source of the sudden announcement all except one - Toris continued to snooze away, muttering more things in his native language as he went.
The announcer, a dapper-looking man with messy brown hair, green eyes and a smile as wide as a banana turned sideways waved to the audience, a microphone in his free hand. "Nice to see all my amigos and amigas doing great, sí?" A clamour of hoots and happy shouts filled the air, as well as some applause. Arthur was one of the hooters, and Kiku was sure he heard Alfred and Helena somewhere in the drunken noise; he, on his part, clapped politely. The emcee welcomed the applause gratefully.
"Very good, very good!," the Iberian grinned. "Now that we're ensured to be having a swell time, the real whoopee can begin! Every night in this here place is a party, and what would a party be without a little música y baile? That would be terrible!" Sounds of wholesome agreement came from the patrons. "And because we wanna keep those birds happy while they enjoy their drinks, I invited over tonight some special friends! They had a hard time coming over, mainly because this place is very top-secret, but now they're here and roaring to get those hot feet moving! So, all you Oliver Twists and heelers, come on down and show us your thing! Mis maravillosos clientes, presenting one of the best from Tin Pan Alley, sólo para ustedes – The Nationals!" With a sweeping flourish the emcee presented the aforementioned band, a small but hearty group of men with various jazz instruments in their holding. They waved humbly at the patrons, who greeted them with much applause and cheer.
At the emcee's instruction the crowd made a wide circle-shaped clearing in the middle of the speakeasy floor. The first note of the band was heard, and soon enough couples – fancy men, flapper girls and all - began to fill up the space, dancing like there was no tomorrow. As his friend continued to drink Kiku couldn't help but stare at the way they all danced – various step-forwards, step-backs, sideways, kicks, turns, all kinds of incredibly fast dancing that went along with the glorious jazz playing in the background. He had absolutely no idea that this was how people danced nowadays - it was pretty obvious that Kiku wasn't the very social type, and hardly went to dancehalls - let alone how to dance with those steps in that pace. Though he admired the dancers and their way of getting it down he was comfortable enough to just watch them in his seat. Kiku didn't think of himself as the dancer type, anyway.
However his plans of peaceful watching were disrupted when a certain drunk Englishman got up from his seat and, to Kiku's utmost surprise, pulled him out of his own seat – and towards the dance floor. The Asian's face grew a most embarrassed shade of red, and he couldn't help but sputter in disbelief. "A-Arthur-san?! What—"
The moonshine really must've gotten to Arthur, for he was grinning madly and staggering about like a monkey on twenty barrels of vodka. "It's the dance, i-isn't it?," he hiccupped, taking hold of both his friend's hands. "The we should—" (Hiccup) "—go along too~!" Kiku's eyes widened at this proposal – this can't be good.
"N-Nani?! Arthur-san, y-you can't just pull someone out on the dance floor like this!" His face was getting redder and redder now. "Besides, w-we're both men—"
"Ah, bollocks what they think!" (Hiccup) "It just a dance between friends, isn't it?"
"—and I don't even know how to dance," Kiku stressed, contorting his face into an extremely embarrassed and conscious (and very adorable) expression. "Especially dances like – dances like this! You know that, don't you? Really, Arthur-san, I should've brought you and the others outside earlier! But you're all too stubborn—"
"—Then I'll teach you how to dance it, yeah?" Arthur continued to smile at his unwilling dance partner. "C'mon, love, it's not that hard! It's—" (Hiccup) "—rather easy to learn, actually." He wobbled in place a bit, and Kiku was obliged to help him find his footing. Once he was up again correctly, he went straight to business. "Okay, f-first off, you do this. Follow as I do it, o-okay?" Holding each of Kiku's hands in his own, the Briton demonstrated the apparent first steps of the dance – step forward, step together.
Kiku couldn't help but sigh at his friend's antics. "You really are drunk, aren't you . . .?," he murmured, shaking his head lightly. But nonetheless, partly to humor Arthur, partly to avoid losing either of their footing, and partly because secretly he would've liked to know how these Western jazz dances went, the young man went along with this drunken "dance lesson".
It was almost like a waltz, except it obviously wasn't. As Arthur stepped forward, Kiku stepped back, then they both stopped; afterwards Kiku stepped forward, Arthur stepped back, then they both stopped again – this was repeated a few times until Kiku got it (with a few missteps along the way, but it was expected).
"S-see? Now yer—" (Hiccup) "—getting it!," Arthur exclaimed, albeit still very slurry. Kiku couldn't help but smile despite himself – he felt rather accomplished at actually being able to get a dance step correctly. Presently the blonde one began again. "Okay, n-now bend—" (Hiccup) "—bend your knees at each step . . ."
Despite the other well-versed-in-dance couples and the other activities around them, the dance lesson between the two went on. Surprisingly enough Arthur's intoxication didn't really get in the way of his dancing skills; in fact, it was a pleasant surprise to see that he was actually pretty good at these things. On Kiku's part, the Japanese man tried his very best to pay attention to what his dance partner had been teaching him; it was hard to hear all what Arthur was saying, given the music and chatter and laughter going about them, so he mostly resorted to looking down at Arthur's feet for reference. There were many missteps on part of both – Kiku due to his learner status and nerves, and Arthur because he was, well, drunk – and it had irritated some of the nearby patrons (an irritated flapper even pointed them out to her friends, calling them 'heeler fags' or something); but nonetheless it was all going well. All uneasiness and anxiety melted away from Kiku at this point, and soon he had almost completely beginning to forget that he was in an illegal alcohol-supplying joint , or that he and Arthur were the only same-sex dance partners in the stands – all that was on his mind was the dancing. He was, for once throughout the whole night, having a lot of fun with this.
For once, also, he had noticed how green Arthur's eyes really were.
"Haha! Now you're on the—" (Hiccup) "—trolley!," Arthur laughed once Kiku found himself dancing the Flat Charleston correctly. Kiku couldn't help but laugh himself. Soon, he too knew how to dance those steps he thought were hard – those step-forwards, step-backwards, sideways, kicks, turns and everything else (though with a lot of mistakes and missteps, but neither of the two minded). Like the other couples, the two had also being going about the circle as they danced. This gave Kiku the opportunity to look around almost the whole speakeasy, and when he turned his head to the side to do so his brown eyes widened in wonder at the bustling activity going about him. He could see the announcer dancing with a blond-haired woman in a pink dress – someone coughing up a load of cigar smoke – some boys his age or older clapping to the music and hooting – a girl dancing saucily by herself – Toris still asleep in his seat – an older couple chatting away – a blond man with slicked-back hair seating his date – Helena smiling and shaking her head as a very intoxicated Alfred tried asking her out – a group of flappers toasting – someone sleeping by the door, a cat in his lap – the musicians having fun as they played – Kiku had never, in all his life, seen anything so vibrant and joyous, so wild and fresh. He couldn't help but get caught up in the festivities himself, laughing as he danced with his nimble British friend. Then he turned again to face Arthur, who suddenly lunged forward and, in drunken stupor most likely, kissed Kiku straight on the lips. Time stood still at that moment, and for a while, though surprised, Kiku closed his eyes . . .
. . . until he came to a realization as to what he was doing. The Japanese man's entire face grew redder than a tomato – even redder that Arthur's alcohol-induced flushes – and he jerked away from him, just as the music reached its highest peak. Thankfully mostly everyone else was too drunk or too busy dancing to have seen the kiss (though Kiku was sure he could feel some glaring eyes on him and oh no some people were staring and talking about it weren't they oh dammit) and it didn't disrupt the events going around them at all. The two continued to dance, steps and kicks and all, except Kiku didn't anymore feel the pure excitement he had earlier at dancing these steps – just embarrassment and nervousness. (Though there was a tinge of positive emotion coursing through him, he just couldn't identify it.) Throughout the remaining dance, he avoided looking at anyone's gaze – especially the Briton's – and as he went kept praying silently that the dance end soon.
And shortly afterwards, it did. The last note from the saxophone faded, and the Nationals put down their instruments to applaud the dancers. The audience themselves also applauded for them. Kiku breathed a sigh of relief as he let go of Arthur and, out of pure obligation and friendship and nothing else he swears, trudged them both back to their seats at the bar-table. The Asian's usually pale face was now red all over, and he kept quiet throughout their walk back from the dance floor. He could hear some people whispering behind him – whether or not it was about him and Arthur, he did not want to know.
"Ahh, that dance was great~!," Arthur exclaimed once he and Kiku were back in their seats. He took for his glass and poured a bit of drink in it. "Wasn't it, K-" (Hiccup) "-Kiku?" The Japanese man turned to him painfully, his face red and sweaty, his brown eyes looked sad and his mouth etched in a thin line. Part of him wanted to slap Arthur-san then and there and give him an angry and embarrassed lecture on propriety, but he held himself back. He didn't want any more people staring.
He was drunk, Kiku. He didn't know what he was doing. The next day he'll forget about it and everything will be back to normal. Shinpai shinaide! Finally the Asian sigh and forced a small smile toward his friend. "H-hai, it was, Arthur-san."
"He-ey!" Presently Alfred popped up beside his cousin again. He seemed just as drunk as before. "That dance was the bee's knees! Whoo! Didn't know you were such an Oliver Twist, cuz! And Kiku, wowee, you sure you don't hang around dance halls? Not bad, not bad!" At this Kiku froze, then covered his face with his hands. Ahh, please tell me he didn't see it, please tell me he didn't see it! However he didn't speak a word. The cigarette man blew another puff of smoke towards Kiku's direction. Mentally he groaned. I'm never going out with them again!
Then suddenly Toris stirred from his sleeping position on the bar and inched his head upwards. "M-mmrm, k-kas atsitiko . . .? W-what the hell happened?" All his companions looked at him weirdly as he asked.
"You were asleep, Toris-san," Kiku stated plainly.
"Oww, my-my head . . .," the Lithuanian went on. He got up from his seat and, wobbling, tried to stand up straight – only for him to crash down on the floor beside the cigar-smoking man. Kiku immediately responded by getting off his seat and helping the Eastern European up correctly. Arthur and Alfred tried to help too, but their intoxication got in the way and they didn't do much. Helena passed by them once all four up on their feet (three of them staggering), with a small cat sitting comfortably on her shoulder. "Oh, what's wrong with him?," she inquired them, motioning towards Toris with her head. Kiku sighed – he was beginning to feel tired.
"He just got up, Helena-san," he explained, trying to keep the dizzy brunet up. "His head's been hurting as well . . . w-what time is it, by the way?"
"Ah, a hangover. Don't worry, hopefully he'll be okay in a few hours or so." Helena looked towards a clock hanging on the wall just beside the drink disposal. "And it's . . . um . . . 1 AM already or something. Why?"
1 AM?!
"Ah, damn it, I have work tomorrow!," Arthur exclaimed, slapping his forehead with his palm. Alfred was on panic mode too. "Oh man, my boss is so going to kill me!" "Ohh, my family must be wondering where I am!," Kiku despaired. The only one not panicking among the four was Toris – his head hurt too much for him to worry about anything else.
"W-we should be getting a wiggle on home, al—" (Hiccup) "—ready," Alfred stated, taking Toris from Kiku and placing himself under the green-eyed Lithuanian's arm to support him. (I was telling you we should go home earlier, wasn't I?!, Kiku thought irritably.) "Thanks for the drinks, Hel—" (Hiccup) "—Helena!" The Grecian nodded in reply, and went back to work just as Alfred and Toris staggered their way out towards the exit. Kiku sighed in exasperation, then went to follow them when a hand laid itself of his shoulder.
"'Ey, you alright?"
Kiku turned to look up at Arthur, still drunk yet sincere, his eyes as green as they could be. The Englishman has his concerned look on again. The Asian blushed heavily, remembering what had just happened on the dance floor moments ago, and looked down at the floor; afterwards forced himself to look up at his friend and gave a small nod.
"Jolly good." With that, Arthur slung his arm around the red-faced Japanese man and the two hobbled their way towards the exit themselves.
Kiku didn't tell him, until after many months, that he actually quite enjoyed that kiss.
END.
translations and slang terms.
japanese:
* hai - yes
* nani?! - what?!
* shinpai shinaide! - don't worry!
lithuanian:
* strazdai! - blackbirds! (LOL random XD)
* atsiprašau, panele natalija . . . - I'm sorry, miss natalya . . .
* kas atsitiko? - what happened?
greek:
* geiá - hey
* fysiká, fysiká - of course, of course
* lypámai - I'm sorry
* érchetai! - coming!
spanish:
* amigos/amigas - friends (male and female terms, respectively)
* sí - yes
* música y baile - music and dancing
* mis maravillosos clientes - my wonderful patrons
* sólo para ustedes - just for you
20's american slang:
* gin mill - cheap speakeasy
* cast kittens (cast a kitten) - throw a fit
* bootleg - illegal
* jake - great
* noodle juice - tea
* fire extinguisher - chaperone
* the ritz - grand, high-class
* limey - british soldier/citizen
* face stretcher - old woman who tries to make herself look young
* birds - general slang term for a person
* whoopee - wild fun
* oliver twist - skilled dancer
* heeler -
* fag - homosexual (also means cigarette)
* now you're on the trolley! - now you've got it!
* the bee's knees - terrific
* get a wiggle on - get going
notes and commentary.
* Originally the fic I was going to write for this prompt had the standard 'England teaches Japan the waltz' storyplot; however my muse wasn't cooperating with it. Then one night, while despairing over it, I was listening to an instrumental jazz cover of the Miku Hatsune song 'Tōsenbo' (I love Baguettes Ensemble *A*), and then my muse thought of incorporating the 'teach how to dance' prompt in the Jazz Age setting. And I don't regret anything. <3
* I'm putting the setting at 1924, because I wanted to put it in a time slightly earlier than the mid-20's. Yeah, I'm aware it's just a year after the dissolution of the Anglo-Japanese Alliance, but since this is a human AU, why not? Also, the fic is most likely set somewhere in New York city - that's where Tin Pan Alley (the '20s term for New York's music industry, located between 48th and 52nd street) is found.
* The period from 1920 to 1933 was called the Prohibition era. In 1920 the 18th amendment was passed, which made the consumption/buying/supply of alcoholic drinks illegal.
* A speakeasy was an illegal bar where people could go if they wanted a drink. Usually they were owned/run by underground gansters, such as the mafia. A speakeasy must always be hidden, as not to get caught by authorities - one could be hidden virtually anywhere (i.e. in the anime BACCANO!, a speakeasy was hidden inside a honey shop), so I assumed there weren some swanky hotels back in the day that hid a speakeasy or two in their basements. XD And I'm not sure if musicians/bands performed in speakeasies, but based on what I read in this website, it seems probable.
* Concerning Helena - The 20's were a time where women began to be aware of their rights and fought for equality, so I think there were some female bartenders already during the time (despite the fact that most of the speakeasy bartenders I've seen in pictures were male). Also, it must be confusing that Helena is more alert and less slow-talking than her counterpart Heracles is when she's basically his Nyotalia self. Some friends told me that the Nyotalias are essentially different from their canon selves, which might explain Helena's slight differences from her half-brother.
* Speaking of which, yes, I'm aware that in canon Arthur becomes an angry ball of cusswords when drunk; however I doubt that's always the case.
* Concerning the (Hiccup)s - I've seen a book wherein the sounds made by characters in the middle of dialogue were inserted with parentheses. I think it was A.A. Milne's Winne-the-Pooh - I'm not entirely sure, I think I'm wrong - but if it was, said book was written in the 20's as well, so. XD
* 'despite their four-year age difference' - In Nature fanon Kiku is only nineteen years old, making Arthur 23 (which is also his age in canon). Both Alfred and Toris are confirmed to be 19, Helena is fanonically 26 (a year younger than Heracles' canon age), and Antonio is canonically 25.
* 'a case of tsundere, perhaps?' - No, I doubt the word 'tsundere' existed back then, but I couldn't help it. >w>
* Erm, I don't know where the name 'The Nationals' came from. XD;;
* The dance Arthur initially teaches Kiku is what we call the Charleston, a type of swing dance that was extremely popular during the day. Believe me, I tried searching for ways to get the dance moves across; however describing movements was never my strong point. OTL I got the first few steps from this video, then I just went and took whatever I could from other videos I've seen of 20's dances (mainly this one). >_>;;
* As I wrote this fic, not only did I have to go through research, but I went and listened to a lot of jazz too~ Okay, I admit, the jazz I listened to weren't strictly from the Jazz Age itself - in fact, most of them were modern jazz pieces - but they certainly helped in setting the mood. Among the ones I listened to were Baguettes Ensemble's instrumental jazz covers of Vocaloid songs (mainly 'Tōsenbo' and 'Double Lariat'), several tracks from the BACCANO! OST, and 'All That Jazz' from the musical Chicago. I also listened to the music that came along with the dance videos linked above.
* Can you find Estonia, Belgium, Germany and male!Greece in the fic? :3
Please, if you speak Japanese/Lithuanian/Greek, would you kindly help me correct the translated terms? I really want to get the languages correct, after all. <3
This was very fun to research for and write~! I think I should write more 20's-set AUs in the future, hee~ <3
Please do tell me what you think! ^_^
X-posted to
love_and_tea.