A/N: Here it is - my smutty sequel to Cut. You can come check out my stories if you want and read that one too; it's pretty short, but not necessary to understand this one.

Well, anyway. I'm so proud of myself for finishing this, and I hope you like it too. But that being said, it's extremely graphic, and to those of you who haven't read my stuff before, there are some warnings I need to give.

WARNINGS: Graphic cutting, depression, angst, and very graphic anal sex. Yaoi, boyxboy, heavy AmeCan incest. Don't like, don't read - any flames I receive for this under an anonymous name are simply from hypocrites too cowardly to live up to the standards they set for others.

Alright - to the rest of you who are not hypocritical cowards, which I doubt you are anyway, I would like to add that DESPITE the warnings, THIS IS VERY FLUFFY. I can't write anything without at least a bit of fluff, and if you don't like some of the things in the warnings, I can almost guarantee the fluff will make up for it.

So, enjoy! Thanks for reading!

Warm, sticky blood welled from the slit in the top of his wrist, dripping down Matthew's hand like scarlet rain down a window. The cut wasn't very long, nor was it deep—just large enough to give him the relief he needed, but small enough to be covered by his watch when he put it back on. But hell, this one was really bleeding tonight. Matthew felt the blade dig into his skin, stinging as he slowly and carefully dragged it along the cut to bring forth a new spring of hot blood. It felt... good.

Matthew shook his head. He needed to stop cutting. He really did. It had been five years now. It was time for this madness to end, and for him to start over as a normal human being again; one without all this pain.

Had he been anyone else, tears would've been pricking the backs of his eyes. But as it was, Matthew wanted so badly to cry, but felt as though he'd forgotten how. So he just pressed his bloody blade deeper, letting out a little hiss of pain as he felt more warm wetness trickle down his thumb and the angry sting of more flesh being torn.

It was like a cat's claws. His claws, raking through his own skin.

"Mon petit Mathieu? Dinner is ready."

A sudden knock on the closed bathroom door made him nearly jump out of his skin, and the blade slipped before he remembered that the door was locked behind him. Even more blood trickled down over his hand from the jagged slit branching off the original cut, but Matthew let out a silent sigh of relief.

Papa couldn't get in. He relaxed a bit, leaning back against the sink and trying to calm his racing heartbeat as he called back quietly through the door.

"Er, Papa... I'm not very hungry tonight—"

That didn't get far at all before he was cut off.

"Matthieu, you need to eat. We'll be downstairs waiting for you, and I do expect you to come eat with the rest of us."

Footsteps retreated.

Matthew slid the knife over his wrist one more time, wishing desperately he still knew how to cry. He looked down at the bloody X-acto knife blade and bit his lip.

"Okay, Papa," he whispered.

It took him another fifteen minutes to clean himself up, but finally Matthew trudged downstairs, taking his usual seat at the dinner table next to Alfred. He let his hair fall and hide his face as he ate, knowing that no one would notice he was quieter than usual but feeling self-conscious anyway. When he caught Alfred looking at him with concern his heart was torn between leaping happily into his throat and twisting with guilt and sinking out of sight.

As soon as he was done, Matthew excused himself, put his dishes in the sink and escaped upstairs to his room. He thought of the blades hidden in the bathroom cabinet, longing to slit his wrist deeper but knowing that if he did it would probably end up cutting open a vein. And in all five years of his cutting, he'd never seriously injured himself enough to need to tell someone and go to the emergency room to get stitches. He'd needed them sometimes, but the wounds had healed just fine without them. He didn't want to break that record now.

Matthew looked at the glowing red numbers of his clock. 7:32. It had been ages since he'd gone to bed this early, but that didn't matter; he was exhausted. Stripping down to his boxers without a second thought, Matthew collapsed on the bed and let his heavy eyelids fall closed.

Alfred couldn't sleep.

An entire hour had gone by, and he had spent every single minute of it lying in bed staring at the ceiling. Being someone who bordered on having ADHD, lying in bed staring at the ceiling for a whole hour was the equivalent of being thrown into hell.

He sat up and sighed, grabbing his glasses from the bedside table and looking out the window to the starry midnight sky. It was only ten, but might as well be one in the morning for how dark it was. The moon cast silvery shadows over the action figures on his desk that he still had from when Mattie had gotten them for him on their ninth birthday. He was twice that age now. Where had the time gone?

Mattie had used to be so happy and sweet to everyone and everything, even when Alfred had been burning ants on the sidewalk with a magnifying glass. But now... Alfred hadn't seen a smile on his face for six months straight—in school or out.

And their parents were so oblivious that they might as well not even exist. Alfred knew something was seriously hurting his brother, but no one else even seemed to care. It pissed him off that everyone could seem to forget so easily about Mattie. He wanted to shake them and punch them and scream in their faces to pay attention, he's human too! And then he wanted to go hug the living daylights out of Mattie until he told him what was wrong.
He finally pulled himself out from under the covers, threw on a rumpled T-shirt and crept out of his room to skitter down the shadowy hallway. It always had to be navigated in just the right pattern so the goddamn floorboards wouldn't creak, but in a few seconds Alfred had come face-to-face with Mattie's closed door.

Doing a quick once-over of the stairs, he noticed that the light was still on in the kitchen. Their parents were still up. But as he listened hard against the ringing silence, he heard the two faint voices disappearing and the slamming of the front door being shut. The light had flipped off. The sound of a car driving away down the road; good, they were gone.

Alfred quietly turned Mattie's doorknob, glad to find that it wasn't locked, and slipped inside.

Matthew lay on his bed across the shadowy room, the Canadian flag comforter rumpled and twisted beneath him; he hadn't even bothered to crawl under the sheets. His wavy golden hair fell around his head like a halo on the pillow, side rising and falling gently with his deep, even breaths. The gentle curve of his feminine face was illuminated by the moonlight, long silvery eyelashes resting peacefully against the smooth, pale skin of his cheeks.

He'd gotten thinner since Alfred had last seen him shirtless; his ribs were just barely visible beneath the lean, soft layer of muscle on his chest. His shoulders had widened a bit, but where Alfred was all angles and sharp edges, Matthew held a grace of softer lines and curves, gentler muscles.

God, when had little Mattie gotten so pretty all of a sudden?

As Alfred watched, the silvery eyelashes fluttered drowsily, and Mattie's deep violet eyes opened halfway to shine in the moonlight. He moaned sleepily, sliding his slim arm under the pillow and gathering it close to his face in a drowsy hug.

Just as he was about to fall asleep again, he noticed Alfred.

The shining eyes opened wider, and Mattie let go of the pillow, propping himself up on one elbow. He ran his hands over his face drearily.

"A-Alfred, what are you doing here?" he asked quietly, voice rough and tired.

"I couldn't sleep," Alfred murmured as he watched his twin reach for his glasses.

"Why not?" Mattie asked with concern as he dragged himself into a sitting position, and Alfred smiled. Here was a fleeting ghost of what Matthew had used to be.

"I'm worried about you," Alfred said softly, smile fading. He walked over to sit on the bed, watching as Matthew pulled his knees up to his chest and settled against the cool wall behind them with the inhuman grace that he never really seemed to work to achieve.

"Why?" Mattie demanded quietly, looking down at his smooth legs.

Alfred caught a hint of bitterness in his voice. His gaze came to rest on Mattie's shoulders, now slumped against the wall, and at second glance a deep red gash flashed out at him from among the jagged mess of crisscrossing scars that was too faint to catch from across the room. He reached out to trace the slash with his fingertips, feeling its roughness. Matthew shivered and pulled away, but Alfred had gotten his point across.

"Because I want to make you feel better," he murmured, now tracing a fresh slit on the outside of Matthew's wrist, where his watch would've been if he'd had it on. "And this isn't about being a hero; I just want to see you happy again. Why d'you do this to yourself, Mattie? I had a hunch you hadn't stopped after you told me way back in seventh grade, but..."

"Do you really want to know?" Matthew whispered. He still wouldn't meet his brother's gaze, knowing that what he was about to say was wrong wrong wrong, that he shouldn't be feeling it, that he was a monster and a freak for letting his broken heart drag him this direction.

"Of course I do, babe," Alfred replied, reaching out to put his arm around those beautiful, scarred shoulders, but Mattie yanked away.

"Don't call me that," he said sharply. "And don't touch me, either."

Alfred quickly withdrew his arm, slightly fazed by the sudden aggression. Matthew had risen from the bed to pace restlessly back and forth across the room, biting his lip.

"Are Dad and Papa still home?" he asked suddenly, stopping abruptly.

Alfred shook his head. "Nah, they're out. Prob'ly for most of the night on one of their dates, if you ask me."

Matthew's shoulders didn't relax. He started pacing again, fidgeting as he spoke.

"A-Al, what I'm about to tell you is... it's gross. I know. But you just have to promise me one thing." He looked desperate and scared.

"Anything," Alfred said determinedly. "If it helps you, I'll do it."

"Swear you won't hate me," Matthew whispered.

Alfred made a cross over his heart. "I swear as a hero, bro. I could never hate you anyway."

Matthew stopped pacing, took a deep breath, and forced himself to find words through the jumbled mess in his brain and the lump in his throat.

"Alfie, you already know that I'm gay. You've known that for a few years now. But there's also something else you don't know about how screwed-up I am."

"Stop it, Mattie, you're not screwed-up!" Alfred tried to interrupt, but Matthew plowed on.

"I started cutting myself in November of 2006. In seventh grade. You know why I started cutting myself, Alfred? Because I figured out I was in love with my own brother."

Matthew had stopped pacing; now he just stood with his back turned, head hung low and voice shaking as it all came pouring out, after being bottled up for so long.

"I had a dream of us kissing one night, and everything just took off from there. I couldn't stop myself. And I know it's dirty and wrong and disgusting for me to love you in the way I do, I just can't make it go away—"

He sounded more revolted and angry and frustrated than Alfred had ever heard him, voice quivering with suppressed rage and self-hatred before he broke off. Alfred could see him dragging his fingernails down his forearms, ripping up scars and scabs and even new flesh.

"Do you see, why I have to punish myself?" Matthew demanded, seething, digging another set of bloody marks into his skin. "I have to fight what I've become, every second of every single goddamn day. I'm a sick monster."

But Alfred had stopped listening by now. He got up off the bed, grabbing Mattie by the shoulders and spinning him to face him.

"Stop it, Mattie," he growled. "Now."

Alfred glared at him, shoving him back against the door behind them and pinning the slim, scarred wrists down on the wood. He saw the dragging scratch marks bleeding a little. Oh, God—why did Mattie hurt himself like this?

"You're no monster," he murmured, tone softening. "You're even more human than I am."

"Easy for you to say," Matthew muttered resentfully, not meeting Alfred's eyes and looking down sadly. Alfred sighed, heart aching to ease his brother's pain, and pressed a soft kiss to Mattie's smooth forehead.

And then another one, that lingered soft and chaste on the warm, soft skin and sent a little jolt of electricity through his stomach.

"I love you too, babe," he whispered.

It was true.

Matthew's eyes shot open, wide once more, and suddenly he slammed his head back against the door to get as far away as possible. What? No! This couldn't possibly be true—Alfred was just trying to make him feel better.

"You're lying," Mattie hissed.

"What'll it take you show you I love you?" Alfred breathed back against his lips, leaning down closer, making him shiver.

Matthew's heart was racing, fast and furious as though it was trying to pound its way out of his chest. His brain seemed to have stopped. But before he could kick it to life again, two small words had slipped from his mouth, breathless and hopeful:

"Kiss me."

A moment of dead silence. Alfred's face hovered not an inch from his own. The closeness was enough to drive Matthew into a frenzy. Warm, minty breath on his lips. The grip on his scarred wrists was not loosened.

But just when he thought Alfred would back away and leave, the impossible happened. A pair of warm lips pressed insistently over his own.

Holy God, Al had kissed him.

A hot, slick tongue carefully traced along his bottom lip, and Matthew finally moaned, kissing back before he could tell himself not to. His wrists were finally released and his hands found their way up to tangle in Alfred's messy, dark-blond hair. Oh, this felt so good, and yet so wrong... He'd waited so long to do this; he knew he shouldn't be...

"A-Alfred," Mattie gasped, pulling away from his lips for only a moment to breathe. "T-this is wrong..."

"Says who?" Alfred breathed huskily in his ear, nipping gently at the pale flesh. Mattie's lips were full and soft and sweet, his mouth hot and wet, body slim and strong against him. Alfred slid his hands down the smooth, bare sides and let them come to rest at his hips, pushing him back against the door and grinding against him with no mercy.

"Al, st-stop," Mattie groaned, though despite his protest he did just the opposite, sliding his hands to Alfred's flushed cheeks and pulling his face closer, turning his head for a better angle. Their mouths were crushed together; Al pushed closer still for a messy, openmouthed kiss, shoving his tongue into Mattie's mouth and running it over the inside of his teeth. Matthew shivered and moaned. His hand that wasn't steadying his brother's cheek slid back and around his neck, so Mattie could meet his tongue with his own. Alfred tasted warm and musky, slightly minty and wonderful. Matthew let out a low, dark moan. He pressed back against Alfred's body that trapped him against the door, rutting against his brother and grinding their hips together. His head fell back against the rough wood behind him, and he bit his lip, panting harshly.

"A-are you sure y-you want t-to do t-this?" he managed, trying one last time to make Alfred stop even though his body was on fire. The only reply he got was a low groan and a hot mouth on his neck, nipping and sucking all the way down to his collarbone.

"I want to make you feel great," Alfred growled, low and possessive. Something in his purring tone made Mattie shake with need, and before either knew what was happening, his boxers had been ripped off and thrown away somewhere in the room. A shiver racked his body as Alfred's hand traced light circles on his stomach, and then lower, just enough to tease the base of his throbbing erection...

"Mnnn... A-Al, aah..." Matthew groaned, feeling the heat pounding over him in waves. Alfred's cool fingers teased his tip, then slipped lower still, massaging his balls...

"Oh god," he moaned, teeth clamping down on his lip as he tried to muffle it in vain. Alfred's fingers had wrapped around his erection, giving it a torturously slow tug, and Mattie finally snapped; he growled, throwing his arms around his brother's neck and stumbling with him back toward the bed.

They tumbled down, Matthew on top, kissing Alfred feverishly and tugging his shirt and boxers off without even missing a beat. Alfred managed to roll over and trap his brother between his body and the mattress, enjoying the show as Matthew gasped and moaned, thrusting his hips upward to grind against his brother's erection in a frenzy, head thrown back in ecstasy and silvery-blond waves flooding over the pillow and his flushed face. His deep violet eyes were on fire with lust.

Alfred groaned softly, leaning down to kiss and suck at Matthew's smooth collarbone and smirking at the gasp he received in reply. His hand snuck downward to grab Mattie's rock-hard erection by surprise, throbbing and hot beneath his cool fingers. Matthew let out a cry of pleasure, back arching up off the bed, fingers tangling in Alfred's hair and hips thrusting with small, jerky movements.

"Hnnnn—! Oh God, Al—!"

Alfred carefully sat back on his knees, settling more comfortably between his brother's twitching legs and bringing his other hand down also to tease his balls. Matthew whimpered, writhing. When Alfred gently began massaging them, his teeth clamped down on his lip hard enough to split it open. Oh, God, it was so good...

"A-Al," Mattie panted, barely able to force the words out through the waves and waves of heat crashing over him. "Y-you might want to stop th-that... I d-don't know how long I'll l-last if you k-keep that up..."

Alfred gave a low, hoarse chuckle, voice rough with arousal. God, his brother was so damn sexy... He leaned down to kiss and nip at Mattie's ear, bringing forth another fiery moan.

"Fine with me," he murmured with enough lust to make Matthew writhe with pleasure at the low note in his voice. "Come for me, Mattie..."

Matthew's moan cracked, disintegrating into a string of desperate pants and gasps as felt the heat in his stomach increase tenfold, swelling and building and making him twitch. He was so close he would explode if he didn't come soon...

"Oh, God... A-Al, I'm s-so cl-close—"

Something finally snapped.

He let out a deep, satisfied groan as his body shook and he exploded in hot, white spurts all over his and Alfred's stomachs. Alfred's eyes were raging with lust as he watched Matthew's body rack with fine tremors, his head thrown back and chest heaving for air. When Mattie's ragged gasping finally calmed a little, he let his violet eyes open halfway, shooting his brother the sexiest smirk he knew how to make from his vulnerable position down on the bed.

"Your turn," he whispered, getting up on his knees shakily and leaning in close to Alfred's ear to let his hot breath ghost there. "But first you have to help me get it ready for you..."

Alfred shivered in anticipation. It was only sheer willpower that kept him from coming at those words dripping from Matthew's swollen, kiss-bruised lips. He felt his brother grab his hand, smirking sexily as he raised three fingers to his mouth and began sucking them wonderfully, running his tongue over the sensitive tips...

Alfred barely contained his rough groan before the fingers were released with a pop and Matthew was turning around to get down on hands and knees, rosy ass completely exposed. He smirked invitingly back at Al, licking his bloody lips and giving his hips a tiny wiggle that did not slip by his brother unnoticed. Rather; it went straight to his groin.

Alfred reached out to knead one of those flushed pink cheeks with his hands, feeling its delightful firmness and the way it twitched slightly wherever his fingers moved. Matthew let out a small, shaky sigh, eyes slipping shut once again. He was growing hard again already, chewing at his abused lip even more for want of a better way to control the desperate need to moan. Alfred's fingers were teasing even closer to his entrance now, rubbing around the tight ring of muscle in maddening circles, and Mattie shoved his hips back as a hint. Oh, God, he needed to be taken, already—! He could feel himself twitching desperately, and it was becoming a battle to just keep still.

"Okay, babe," Alfred chucked roughly. "Just wait another sec..."

Good; so the hint had not been lost on him. Matthew felt one slicked finger push inside him up to the first knuckle and gasped a bit at the intrusion, his eyes squeezing shut as he forced himself to relax. Relax those muscles, don't concentrate on the pain, this part would all be over soon...

Alfred shoved the finger in farther, probing gently, and he felt hot muscles cramp around it before Matthew could stop them. He leaned forward against his brother's back to press a shower of soft kisses over his smooth, warm skin, using his free hand to massage his shoulders and distract him from the stinging pain of another finger being pushed inside next to the first.

"...Ow," Mattie whispered, rocking slowly back and forth against the alien intrusion, tentatively trying to ease himself back onto it. Alfred kissed his shoulder in sympathy, beginning to carefully scissor the fingers and rub over all the hot inner skin in an attempt to find that special spot that would have him screaming and writhing in pleasure...

Mattie moaned low in the back of his throat, more like a soft purr than anything, and Alfred could feel him begin to pant a little faster as his muscles gradually loosened and it was finally starting to feel good. But he still hadn't found that spot... God damn, where the fuck was it...?

Suddenly Matthew's entire body tensed, a fine shudder running up his spine.

"Mmmnnh! Al!"

He threw his head back, choking on his own breath, a desperate moan tearing its way out of his throat and his fingers clenching down on the sheets. His walls were pulsing and writhing around Alfred's fingers, sweaty blond hair sticking to his forehead.

Found it.

Alfred hurriedly shoved the third finger into Mattie's quivering entrance, watching as his brother squirmed in pleasure on the bed and beginning to slowly pump them in and out, pressing into that one spot every time. The reaction was immediate; Matthew was moaning unabashedly, hips jerking a little as he tried to press back on the fingers in time.

"Oh God, Al... more, p-please more..."

Alfred nearly came again.

To distract himself he pressed a trail of hot kisses down Matthew's back, feeling his brother whimper in disappointment and need when he pulled out the fingers. He tried to reach back and grab them again, but Alfred chuckled and gently smacked his hand away.

Instead, he lined himself up with Mattie's quivering entrance, twitching, needy and red. Matthew let out a heavy, lusty moan as he felt the head slip in, desperately rocking back against it and forcing in more, earning a gasp from Alfred. Oh God, he could feel every little thing; the hot throb of Alfred inside him, getting deliciously harder with every small sound he made, filling him so completely he could hardly breathe, barely think, needed him to move now or he would die...

"Oh, shit—Mattie... so tight..." Alfred groaned, a shudder racking his body as Matthew pressed back to bury him all the way to the hilt. He leaned forward to rest his heated forehead in the sweet curve of his brother's neck, whole body quivering with the effort of restraint. The body heaving for breath beneath him was slicked with sweat that dripped down Mattie's back in little streams, gasping and moving like an exhausted racehorse. Alfred's hips were shaking and beginning to twitch from the sheer will it took to not pound his god damn fucking sexy brother into the sheets right that very second. Oh God, he couldn't hold this out much longer...

Finally Matthew let out a low whimper, chest still heaving for breath and shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

"A-Al, please, m-move," he managed to whimper, rocking against the twitching erection buried so deep inside that the pleasure was choking him. He felt his muscles clench and quiver as Alfred slowly pulled out, and was left holding his breath for a split second before suddenly something big and hot and hard and oh God, wonderful slammed right back in, starting off with a fast pace so hard pleasure was eating Matthew from the inside out.

"Aaahn! Yes, yes! Fuck yes!"

He was barely clinging to his sanity, fists clenching in the sheets, teeth clamped down on the pillow to keep his cries of ecstasy at bay as Al's pace began to pick up even more, but Alfred leaned forward against his back and pulled it away from shaking arms.

"No one's home but us," he panted, breath hot against his ear. Mattie choked on a moan. "Let me hear you, Matt."

At that second, he slammed right back into a spot that made white stars explode across his brother's vision, groaning when Mattie arched and let out a loud cry.

"Yaaah! Th-th—"

He wanted to tell Alfred that was the spot, there, but he was suffocating on the words, vision blurred and still dancing with glowing spots as Alfred pounded into him from behind, thrusts desperate and relentless. Soft, heavy grunts escaped his lips and mingled with Mattie's shrill cries and desperate, throaty moans to form a wonderful, filthy melody of sweat and sex.

Matthew's hips were working of their own accord, jerking back to meet every thrust and drive his brother deeper, deeper than before; it was so much, too much, and his shaking arms finally failed, letting his shoulders collapse onto the bed. His legs would have given out long ago, but Alfred had a steel grip on his hips, so hard he was sure it would leave bruise marks for a week. He let out a scream of pleasure, feeling Al grow even harder inside him at the sound, feeling his hot muscles cramping and twitching around the rock-hard length and the pure, unbearable ecstasy of being thoroughly fucked into the mattress. His eyes squeezed shut, voice growing louder and louder as his throbbing prostate was nailed almost bruisingly hard, sending wave after scalding wave of heat searing through his quivering body.

"A-Al," he moaned, the heat winding up far too tight, dangerously tight, panting and gasping with its sheer, agonizing bliss. "Oh, God... s-so close—A-Al! A-ALFRED!"

Matthew screamed louder than he'd ever thought was humanly possible for his weak vocal cords, throwing his head back and yelling it to the ceiling. The coil in his stomach finally snapped, hard, jolting his body and ripping ragged bursts of sticky white cum from him as he came harder than he ever had in his life. He just barely managed to stay upright, Alfred's fingers clamped onto his hips and his pace slowing a bit to watch his brother come, down on one shoulder and writhing in pleasure on the bed. His face was slicked with a thin sheen of sweat, flushed and red, and his lips were swollen and bloody as his twitching limbs finally calmed and he let out a soft moan.

"Oh, Al... come for me, please... yes..." he whispered, too spent to raise his voice any higher as his hips began to shake in the absence of the fiery adrenaline that had been keeping him going this far, the heat from his orgasm slowly curling away and sending shivers up his spine. He smiled a little in bliss as he felt Al let out a heavy groan and let his hips snap forward, the hot, rich cum filling him to the brim.

"S-shit, Mattie—you're so fuckin' beautiful," Alfred gasped breathlessly, feeling his brother's body shaking and heaving feebly for breath beneath him. Finally he pulled out, bracing himself against Matthew's scarred, sweat-slicked shoulders, and immediately his brother collapsed. Alfred smiled through the exhausted haze, falling next to him and rubbing his sweaty back. Matthew managed to roll onto his side heavily, smiling a little and utterly spent. He could feel Alfred's cum seeping out of him, warm and wet. It was a wonderful feeling.

"...That was the best sex of my life," he whispered, violet eyes flickering open again to meet Alfred's blue ones, and he laughed quietly, smiling back.

"Good, 'cause I gave you my best, babe," he whispered in reply, tucking a sweat-drenched lock of Mattie's soft blond hair behind his ear.

Matthew looked away for a minute, smile fading and suddenly looking a little sad. "D-did you really mean it?" he asked softly, almost as though he was afraid to hear the answer. "What you said about loving me?"

"Yep," Alfred murmured, gathering his brother's limp and shaking form into his strong arms and gently kissing Mattie's bitten lips, licking away all the blood. "Every word."

"Even my scars?" Matthew whispered fearfully. He'd clearly been shunned for them before, and it made Al's heart ache to think about it. Deep violet eyes shone brightly under the silvery moonlight, slowly slipping closed in exhaustion.

Alfred chuckled, tugging the Canadian flag blankets up over them and winding his arms protectively around Mattie's slim, smooth waist to pull himself close against the limp, heated form. He nuzzled his face into his brother's sweaty hair, inhaling the thick scent that still lingered from his fresh shampoo and letting his eyes fall closed as well with three last, quiet words:

"Especially the scars."

Oh, and by the way, I think I owe all Alfred's fans an apology. I realize he's terribly OOC in this, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway! I've always thought he'd do anything for Mattie, so, yeah... guess that's where it came from.

Anyway, thanks for reading.

Review?