Fragile

by axisofadorable

Hetalia: Yaoi: PruCan: Human AU MatthewxGilbert. This is the alternate version of my story Greedy. This one is from Matthew's POV. It's basically the same story, but hopefully different enough to be enjoyable. If you haven't yet, you should probably read Greedy first. Rated Maple. Oh, yes, rated Maple.

FRAGILE

Hetalia: Yaoi: Human AU: MatthewxGilbert

'Yo, Mattie.'

The sound of his brother's voice outside his door was always the first thing Matthew heard every morning.

Now he rolled over, blinking sleepily in the darkness, and listened to his twin calling him. 'Mattie? You awake?'

Alfred's voice came through the door as if he had his mouth pressed to it. He probably did. Alfred wasn't really the patient type.

'Yeah,' Matthew answered finally.

'I'm hungry,' Alfred said.

'Okay, Alfie.' Matthew slid his legs out of the bed, groping automatically for the long-sleeved T-shirt on his nightstand. 'Don't come in.'

'Why not? You naked?'

'Yeah.' Matthew pulled the T shirt on and then tugged the sleeves down over his wrists. He grabbed a pair of black jeans out of his dresser drawer and slid them on, too. 'Okay.'

Alfred opened the door as soon as the word left his mouth. 'You decent now?' he asked.

'Yeah,' Matthew said. 'Don't turn on the light, though.'

'Why not? I've seen it before.'

'I don't want to see it.' Matthew rubbed his eyes. 'Do you want pancakes?'

''Course.' Alfred grinned at him, and Matthew smiled back, suddenly happy that Alfred was here. He never minded cooking for his brother, even though Alfred could cook. He just liked it when Matthew did it. For Matthew's part, it was a way to take care of Alfred when most of the time Alfred took care of him.

'Hey,' his twin said, studying him from the doorway. 'You okay?'

'Yeah.' Matthew WAS pretty okay this morning. He didn't feel any need to reach for a pen, and as long as he couldn't see his walls they didn't bother him.

'C'mon, then,' Alfred said, spinning around.

'I have to brush my teeth,' Matthew told him. 'And my hair. And do some other stuff.' He saw that Alfred was fizzing with impatience, and quickly closed the bathroom door before Alfred could join him. 'Gimme a minute.'

In the bathroom, Matthew washed his face with cold water. He rolled his sleeves up and looked at his arms for a long moment, then pulled the sleeves down again, hiding his skin.

Quickly, he brushed his teeth and then grabbed a hairbrush to try and tame his every-which-way mop. His hair was way too long, but Alfred wouldn't let him cut it.

'You gotta have your own style, dude. And that's your style. It looks great.'

Matthew looked at himself in the mirror. He wasn't wearing his glasses, and the face he saw was Alfred's- except with a vulnerability that Alfred's real face would never have. Matthew's eyes were bigger, his bones sharper.

He pulled his sleeves down again, making sure they covered his wrists all the way. The feeling of the fabric against his palms reassured him, and he closed his fingers over the edges and squeezed hard. In the mirror he met his own eyes, and the lost expression he saw there muted into a kind of resolve.

''Kay,' he said aloud, though his voice was still too soft for Alfred to hear him.

When Matthew came out of the bathroom, Alfred bounded down the stairs ahead of him. 'Can we have chocolate chips in our pancakes?' he asked on the way.

'No,' Matthew said

'Why not?'

''Cause we're out.'

'Oh, crap.' Alfred snapped his fingers. 'Well, shiz.'

'They're still good without,' Matthew reminded him.

'I know that. Can we have sausage?'

'Yeah.'

'Sweet! Hey Mattie.' Alfred swung around on the banister and grabbed Matthew by the shoulders. He gave him a little shake, and grinned his effervescent grin. 'I love you,' he chirped.

'I know,' Matthew said. He took in his brother's blond bed-head, his faded 'America Hearts Me' T shirt, his glimmering blue gaze. 'I love you, too.'

His twin let go of him. 'Just so you remember.'

'I do.'

In the kitchen, Matthew grabbed his apron and some ingredients. While Alfred watched him, he began to mix up the pancake batter.

Alfred sat down at the kitchen table, backwards in his chair with his chin on the back of it.

'Hey, Mattie,' he said.

'What?' Matthew asked, cracking two eggs into the mixing bowl. He began to beat the batter with a fork.

Alfred sighed theatrically. 'Dude, I am SO bored... Will you come to Tony's with me after we eat?'

Suddenly Matthew felt tension stiffening his muscles. His heartbeat picked up, and he shook his head. 'I don't want to,' he said carefully. 'I don't like it there.'

'Why not?' Alfred asked, even though he already knew.

'It's loud, and there are a lot of people,' Matthew said.

'They won't hurt you,' Alfred told him.

'I don't like it,' Matthew repeated. His shoulders hunched a little bit and his beating of the pancake batter became faster and less smooth.

'Okay,' Alfred said quickly. 'You don't have to.'

Matthew slowed the fork down with an effort. He made his shoulders relax. 'I'm sorry,' he said softly.

'Dude, don't be sorry,' Alfred said. 'I just worry about you. All alone in this big spooky house…'

'It's not spooky.' Matthew poured melted butter into the batter and stirred it. 'I like it.'

The skillet on the stove began to sizzle, and he moved over to it with the bowl and began spooning batter onto the surface.

'BRB,' Alfred said abruptly. He stood up and rounded the table.

'These are almost ready,' Matthew warned him.

'That's cool. I just gotta whiz.'

Alfred blew out of the kitchen, and Matthew sighed.

Was Alfred pissed at him?

He'd said he wasn't, but Matthew wasn't sure.

He hated turning his brother down, but he hated Tony's more. The club was always packed, a seething pit of flashing lights, loud music and sweaty bodies. Alfred loved it.

Matthew would much rather curl up under his grandmother's quilt with his fat white cat and a good book.

He and Alfred might look alike, but they were total opposites when it came to personality.

Matthew jumped when a loud, obnoxious ringtone blared through the kitchen.

'Alfie!' he called, turning away from the stove. 'Your phone's ringing!'

'Get it for me!' Alfred yelled back.

Fuck, Matthew thought. He flipped the last pancake in the pan out onto a plate, then lifted the pan off the burner. 'Are you coming?'

'Just get it!'

Matthew put down the plate of pancakes and picked up Alfred's phone. Reluctantly, he pressed the little icon on the screen that answered it, then lifted it to his ear.

'H'lo?' he said. His voice was little more than a mumble, and he unconsciously turned his whole body away from the phone.

He hated answering Alfred's phone almost as much as he hated Tony's. The only reason he did it now was to make up for letting Alfred down about the club.

'Alfred?' the guy on the line asked. It wasn't anyone that Matthew knew, and his shoulders tensed up a little more. 'Um, Alfred's in the bathroom,' he said. 'Who is this?'

'Can you get him?' The guy hadn't answered Matthew's question. He had some kind of weird accent, and his voice was rough and scratchy in Matthew's ear.

'Who is this?' Matthew asked again.

'Just tell him it's the awesome Gil.'

'Gil,' Matthew said.

Who was Gil? Alfred had never mentioned a Gil. And who referred to themselves as the awesome anything?

'Gilbert,' the guy on the phone said, as if Matthew was stupid. 'Just tell him.'

Matthew bit his lip. He wanted to tell Gilbert to stop ordering him around, but instead he said, ''Kay.'

Putting the phone down on the table, he went to the door of Alfred's bathroom.

'Alfie, it's someone named Gilbert. I guess it's important.'

'Gilbert? Awesome!' The bathroom door opened suddenly and Alfred came out, looking pleased.

'Who is he?' Matthew asked.

'He's this cool dude I met. He's really freaky, like, awesome.' Alfred picked up his phone. 'GilBO! What's going on?'

Gilbert said something and Alfred cocked his head to the side. 'Oh, shit,' he said in response. And then, 'Hey, you had breakfast yet?'

Matthew's stomach did a somersault. Alfred wouldn't do that to him, would he?

But it seemed like he would. 'You wanna come over?' Alfred said into the phone. 'My brother's a great cook,'

Matthew shook his head: No, no, no.

Alfred didn't look at him. Matthew heard Gilbert's tiny voice answering, and Alfred finally looked over and winked at him.

'Yeah. Matthew,' Alfred said to Gilbert. 'He's a little weird but you'll get used to him. So, you wanna come over and chill? Dude, it'll be so cool. I was just thinking about you. Shit, have breakfast and you can stay here. For whatever. As long as you want. My brother won't care.'

'Fuck,' Matthew said softly. Alfred was doing this because he wouldn't come to Tony's, and because Alfred was bored. Sometimes his twin could be a bitch. He stared daggers at him, but Alfred only grinned.

'No, I'm serious,' he told Gilbert. 'It'll be cool.'

Well, that was that, Matthew thought. It was done.

He replaced the skillet on the burner and turned the heat back on. Then he picked up the bowl of pancake batter and began spooning more pancakes.

'Then it's settled,' he heard Alfred say behind him. His voice got louder for Matthew's benefit. 'Hey Matthew! Make enough for three.'

'Okay,' Matthew said without turning around.

'He doesn't mind,' Alfred said into the phone. He went on talking, something about a bird and pirates and Kumajiro, but Matthew hardly heard him.

What made his brother think he had the right to invite some stranger to come and stay with them?

Alfred knew Matthew wouldn't want someone else in the house, and usually he was really conscientious about it. He didn't even have friends over much, because he knew that Matthew was uncomfortable around strangers.

So what was this?

Was Gilbert a boyfriend?

Was this something different?

He wouldn't, Matthew thought. I know he wouldn't.

Alfred took the phone away from his ear and looked at Matthew, studying his face.

Matthew wondered if his roiling emotions showed on the outside. Probably not. He had learned to wear a mask early on.

'I'm gonna go get him,' Alfred said to him.

'Why?' Matthew asked.

'Because he's my friend and he's cool and he needs my help,' Alfred told him. He scowled a little bit, like Matthew was being mean on purpose.

'No, I mean, why are you doing this?' Matthew clarified.

Alfred sighed. This time it wasn't theatrics. 'Matthew, chill,' he said. 'It'll be fine. Gilbert won't bother you.'

'I don't want anybody here.'

Matthew knew he was being stupid. And selfish.

Why shouldn't his brother have friends? He hung his head suddenly, hiding behind his hair. 'I like it just us,' he whispered, almost too low for Alfred to hear.

'And it'll be just us again soon,' Alfred said. His voice had softened. 'This is only temporary, Mattie. He doesn't have anywhere to go. Hey, he had a fight with his brother and he's out on the street. And he has, like, a pet bird, man. They need a place to stay.'

I'm sorry, Matthew thought, feeling guiltier. I'm sorry, Alfred.

'Okay,' he said aloud. He flipped the pancakes before they burned.

'You okay?' Alfred asked, shoving his phone into his pocket. He sounded like he really cared, and the guilt just got deeper.

'Yeah,' Matthew said.

'Are you sure?'

'Yeah.'

Alfred leaned toward him. 'You're not going to flake out on me, are you? Gilbert's cool, I promise. He's really nice.' He sighed. 'And man, he is fine as hell.'

Matthew flicked a glance over. Alfred was grinning at him now.

'I don't care,' he said.

'I know you don't. But I do.'

'Do you like him?' Matthew asked suddenly.

Alfred's brows rose. 'What, like that? Nah.' But his brow furrowed, and Matthew couldn't be sure if he was telling the truth.

'Okay.' He scooped the last pancake out of the pan and began laying sausages into it.

'I'll be right back, okay?' Alfred said behind him. 'Hey, Mattie?'

'Yeah?'

'I'm sorry about this. I know it's freaking you out.'

'It's okay,' Matthew told him, turning around.

'Okay.' Alfred looked at him earnestly, then grinned again. 'Hey, you might like him,' he said. 'Hmm?'

'I won't,' Matthew responded. He poked a sausage with his fork, refusing to smile back at his brother.

Alfred grimaced, giving up. He picked up his jacket. 'See ya,' he said.

'Fuck,' Matthew said when he was gone. He wanted to go up to his room, but he forced himself not to. He had to stay downstairs and finish making the breakfast Alfred had promised to Gilbert. Even though his fingers itched for a pen, Matthew occupied them with a fork. He started beating some more eggs.

He'd make scrambled eggs, he thought, to stretch the breakfast enough for three, and maybe some toast too.

He hurried through the routine without the care he normally took, but the eggs still came out fluffy and the toast perfectly broiled.

Cooking normally made Matthew as happy as anything ever did, but he was too stressed to enjoy it right now.

I don't want someone else here, he thought. This Gilbert. Whoever he is. I don't want him staying here.

Technically, it was his house. He could have told Alfred no. But he never told Alfred no.

Matthew felt something butt up against his pants leg and he looked down at Kumajiro, his massive white Maine Coon cat.

Kuma looked up at him with bicolored eyes. 'Mao?' he asked.

Matthew bent down and petted the cat, running his fingers through the thick white fur.

Somehow, Kuma always knew when he was upset and came to find him. He was almost like a dog that way.

Straightening up, Matthew forked a sausage out of the pan and ran it under cold water to cool it. Then he shook the water off and bent down to offer it to the cat.

Kumajiro growled and seized the sausage in his teeth. Jerking it loose from Matthew's fingers, he backed away and began to drag the sausage across the kitchen floor. Under the kitchen table, he hunkered down to eat it, still growling.

Matthew almost smiled at his pet's antics, but his stomach was too knotted and he bit his lip instead. He was scared, he thought. Scared of having someone else around.

That wasn't normal, but since when had Matthew been normal?

He cooked some more eggs while Kumajiro was eating his sausage. He finished buttering the toast and the last stack of pancakes, and then put everything into serving dishes and set it in the oven to keep warm.

When the food was put away, he went to the sink to wash his hands.

He still felt sick to his stomach, and he knew he wouldn't be able to eat a bite of the food himself.

Everything's done, he thought. They're gonna be here any minute- I could go upstairs now-

The sound of distant voices at the front of the house told him he was too late.

'Fuck,' Matthew whispered.

The noise of an impending visitor roused Kumajiro from his sausage stupor, and he licked his whiskers, then ambled heavily forth to greet Gilbert.

Matthew felt like doing the opposite. He wanted to hide, but there was no exit from the kitchen except the one that led through the living room. He was trapped.

He was still running water on his hands. Quickly, he pulled them back from the flow and yanked his sleeves down hard. The material stuck to his wet skin, and he bit his lip.

He's going to think I'm weird, he thought.

I AM weird.

What should he do with himself? What was normal?

Should he start serving the food, or should he wait? Should he leave the kitchen to greet them, or stay here?

'This is why I don't meet people,' he said aloud. 'Because I suck at it. DAMN it, Alfie.'

As if he had been called, his brother appeared at entrance to the kitchen. There was another guy beside him. Matthew had expected Gilbert, but he still felt a quick burst of panic as he snuck a look.

He's tall, Matthew thought, his eyes traveling from Gilbert's beat up combat boots to the top of his messy white head.

Wow… He looks different.

Gilbert was wearing all black, which made the stark white color of his spiky hair even more startling. Alfred had said he was fine, but Alfred thought a lot of guys were fine. Matthew had not imagined anyone this striking when he had pictured his brother's friend.

He hadn't even known there were guys who looked like that.

Gilbert looked a little older than them, and he was beyond fine. He was gorgeous.

Thinking about Gilbert that way made Matthew feel weird, but he couldn't help it. It had never been a secret to him which way his tastes ran- In that one respect, he and Alfred WERE the same.

Matthew looked down at the floor, hoping Gilbert hadn't noticed his lightning fast survey. His hands felt suddenly empty and he grabbed a hand towel to dry them- more for something to do than because his skin was actually still damp.

'Hi,' he heard Gilbert say to him. 'I'm the awesome Gilbert.' His voice was the same as it had been over the phone, but Matthew could hear the accent more clearly now. German, he thought. He'd never met anyone German before.

'Hi,' he answered. Knowing it would be rude not to, he finally looked up and met Gilbert's dark stare.

Matthew had never seen eyes that color before- deep red, like burgundy. Maybe they were contacts. But Gilbert was really pale, too, and his white hair looked natural, not bleached.

He's unbelievable, Matthew thought. Man, I am so dead.

'Sorry to impose,' Gilbert said. His German accent wasn't too strong; it just added a little flavor to some words. 'Your brother says it's okay if I stay here for a few days.'

Matthew couldn't help noticing that Gilbert's T shirt was on backwards. The hair on the very top of his head stood straight up as if he had been pulling it. There was something on his shoulder, something yellow with little black feet, but it was hiding in the shagginess of the hair along his neck.

I'm staring, Matthew thought guiltily. But so is he.

He really was. Gilbert was looking at him like he really saw Matthew.

Suddenly the weight of his eyes was too much- Matthew felt as though Gilbert could see through the fabric of his T shirt to the writing beneath it. His heart plummeted and he felt naked.

That's why he couldn't look at Gilbert- because Gilbert was okay, and he wasn't.

Run away, Matthew, he thought. Run away, it's what you do best.

He would run away from whatever it was Gilbert had made him feel, and he'd forget about it. Eventually Gilbert would be gone. He just had to avoid him for a few days.

'It's fine,' he said, keeping his voice steady with an effort. 'Everything's ready. I'm gonna go upstairs, okay? You can serve yourselves.' He looked for Alfred, hoping his brother would understand, and saw that Alfred did. His twin nodded, releasing him.

Relief almost blinded Matthew.

Escape!

He made for the entrance to the kitchen, but then as he reached it Gilbert caught him by the wrist.

At the touch, fire shot through Matthew's veins. He almost jerked loose from the grip, but instead every muscle locked, and he froze.

'Hey,' Gilbert said. 'Aren't you going to eat?'

'I...' Matthew tried to say. 'I…'

He wanted to say, 'I can't breathe, let go,' but his voice wouldn't work.

Colors swam before his eyes.

'Hey, better let go,' Alfred said for him. 'He's gonna freak out.'

Gilbert's fingers started to release him. 'Sorry,' Gilbert began. 'I didn't mean-'

Matthew pulled his wrist free from the loosened grasp and bolted from the kitchen.

His heart was pounding, and he couldn't get enough air in his lungs. He took the stairs two at a time. When he made it to his room, he slammed the door closed and then pulled his glasses off and dropped them on the bed.

He wasn't surprised to feel tears of humiliation and self-hatred painting his cheeks. Of course he was crying. He was a fucking loser.

Whatever pretense to being normal he might have attempted today, it was over now.

Even though the light was off and the windows covered, Matthew's hands found the drawer of his nightstand and pulled it open. The pens inside rattled.

Matthew's fingers grasped one, and his other hand shoved his sleeve up. He began to write frantically, the ballpoint tickling his skin as it jerked over his arm. The words overran other words but it didn't matter.

Why, Matthew wrote. Why, why, why, why.

Numbers blurred in his head, and the repetition soothed him. Twenty times, thirty times, one hundred times. Until ink covered his skin. Until the question had an answer.

Somebody knocked on his door. It hadn't been long this time. Guiltily, Matthew stopped writing and shoved the pen in the drawer. With his other hand, he pulled the sleeve down to cover his inked-over skin.

'Alfie?' he asked.

The knock came again.

'Shit,' Matthew whispered. Getting up, he went to the door and opened it, expecting to see his brother's worried face.

It wasn't Alfred.

Gilbert stood there, his hand still raised to knock again, his weird eyes dark with concern or some other misplaced emotion.

Matthew swallowed a gasp. Instinctively he started to close the door, but Gilbert caught it in his hand.

'Hey, wait,' he said.

'P-please don't,' Matthew said. He couldn't close the door with Gilbert holding it, but he wasn't going to stand here and face Gilbert either. He was trapped again, and he hated the feeling.

'Don't what?' Gilbert asked him. 'I'm not gonna do anything. I just wanted to say I'm sorry.'

'For what?'

Matthew wondered if Gilbert could tell that he had been crying. He probably could. Fuck.

'For grabbing you,' Gilbert said.

'Oh.' Matthew swallowed. 'I- It's okay. I just can't… I…'

He winced.

God, I sound so pathetic. I can't even form a sentence.

But Gilbert just shrugged. As he did, the bird on his shoulder took umbrage at the abrupt movement and squeaked.

'Oops. Sorry, buddy,' Gilbert said. He put his hand up and then jerked it back. 'Uh oh. He's pissed.'

'Is that…' Matthew leaned forward a little bit, trying to get a look at the creature. He saw round eyes and a sharp beak looking out of a tiny face. 'Oh,' he said. 'He's cute.'

'Thanks,' Gilbert answered. 'So, hey. Will you come down and eat with us? Please?'

What? Matthew was thrown by the question. Why did GILBERT want Matthew to eat with them?

'I really don't-' he started.

'Please?' Gilbert asked again.

Matthew bit his lip.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gilbert glance at his mouth. His eyes lingered, and out of nowhere Matthew felt a little weird thrill in the pit of his stomach.

No, no, no, he thought. Gilbert was just being nice, right? Or maybe trying to make up for what had happened before.

But then Matthew thought- Even if Gilbert didn't really want Matthew to eat with them that bad, maybe it was rude not to.

'Okay,' he said finally. He pulled the sleeves of his long-sleeved T down over his hands and squeezed the fabric into his palms. 'I guess.'

'C'mon,' Gilbert said. He smiled. His smile was slightly manic, but still really nice. Matthew felt that weird little thrill again, and he sucked in his breath.

No, he thought more firmly.

Gilbert turned and went down the stairs, glancing back once to make sure that Matthew was following.

Matthew was, although he had a feeling that it wasn't in his best interests to do so.

He'd never been interested in anyone before now. It figured that it would be someone like Gilbert- impossible, unattainable and suddenly inescapable.

'Mattie!' Alfred called when they entered the kitchen. 'You came!' He looked happy.

'Yeah,' Matthew said. He tried not to sound as unsure as he was, but he was pretty dure he failed.

'You okay?' Alfred asked, peering at him.

'Yeah,' he said.

'You gonna eat?'

'Yeah.'

Alfred reached forward for a fist bump. 'Alright! Twin power! So what do you think of Gilbert? You okay with him staying here?'

I don't know, Matthew thought.

'I guess,' he said aloud.

'He's not gonna mess with you,' Alfred told him.

'I know,' Matthew answered automatically. He flicked a glance at Gilbert and saw Gilbert watching him. Gilbert hadn't touched his food.

Was he waiting for Matthew to eat?

Even though he wasn't hungry, Matthew filled a plate with pancakes and sausage.

He sat down across from Gilbert, because the only other seat was next to him.

'Will you be alright when I leave?' Alfred asked.

'I guess,' Matthew said, looking down at his plate.

Where was Alfred going?

Oh, right, Tony's.

For some reason Matthew had thought that now that Gilbert was here, Alfred would stay.

'Okay, Mattie,' Alfred said, as if things were settled.

He started eating again and Gilbert tried his pancakes, too.

'Wow, Matthew, these are AWESOME,' he said.

'Thank you,' Matthew answered. He took a bite himself and forced himself to swallow it. It joined the lump of nervousness that was already in his stomach.

'You made all this yourself?' Gilbert asked him.

'Yeah,' he said.

'You like to cook?'

'Yeah.' He dipped his head, hiding behind his hair.

I can't even make conversation like a normal person, he thought.

Glancing over, he saw that Alfred had finished the small mountain of food on his plate. The nervousness got worse, especially when Alfred abruptly stood up. 'Hey, guys, I gotta run,' he said. 'Gilbo, will you be okay? Matthew can show you where everything is.'

Matthew's stomach somersaulted and he put down his fork.

Was Alfred leaving him alone already? With Gilbert?

Oh, fuck.

'You guys have fun!' Alfred blew a kiss at Matthew, ignoring the panicked look on his face.

'See you later, Alfred,' Gilbert said, not sounding panicked at all.

Little did he know that he had been left alone with a freak.

Matthew wanted to protest the abrupt departure, but he knew that it was useless. For whatever reason, Alfred WANTED to leave him with Gilbert.

He glanced at the other man.

Gilbert's expression was thoughtful, and one side of his mouth had quirked up a little bit.

Matthew felt his cheeks flush. Sudden heat scorched his face, and he looked down at the table.

'Fuck,' he said. 'I have to-'

He stood up, and Gilbert got up too.

'Matthew, wait.'

Matthew blindly tried to go around him, and Gilbert grabbed him by the wrist. It was the same wrist he had grabbed before, and Matthew had the same reaction. He froze.

'Hold still a minute,' Gilbert said.

'Let go…' Matthew whispered. His heart was pounding and he felt dizzy.

'Not until you listen,' Gilbert said calmly. 'I don't know what's going on here, but we need to talk.'

No, we don't, Matthew thought. 'Gilbert, let me go,' he said.

Instead, he felt Gilbert's grip tighten on his wrist, and he heard himself make a small panicked sound.

'Matthew,' Gilbert said. 'Stop running away from me. You don't even know me.'

Oh, fuck, Matthew thought.

'Please,' he said aloud.

'Please what?' Gilbert asked.

'Let me go.'

Gilbert drew in a breath. 'Do you really want me to?' he asked. There was something different in his voice now. It had gone lower and softer.

Matthew had never heard that tone before, but his body recognized it. He felt that thrill again, the one that he had gotten earlier, when Gilbert had looked at his bitten lip. He lowered his head further, trying to hide the flush in his cheeks and the way he was chewing at his lip again.

'I…' he said.

I can't handle your hands on me.

I can't handle your voice when it sounds like that.

I can't have you this near me.

Instead, he said, 'Gilbert, PLEASE.'

Gilbert reached out and caught his chin between finger and thumb. 'What would you do if I said no?' he asked softly.

He knows exactly what he's doing to me, Matthew thought.

He's doing it on purpose.

The knowledge didn't help. His heart still felt like it was about to burst out of his chest, and he swallowed down a hot lump of terror and desire.

'I…' he said again.

'Matthew,' Gilbert said. 'What would you do if I said I wanna kiss you?'

Matthew bit his lip hard. 'Gilbert!'

He hadn't meant to say the other man's name in that raw, shaken voice. He didn't want Gilbert to know how close he was to breaking.

'Is that a no?' Gilbert asked. 'Or a yes?' He tugged Matthew forward a bit. 'Matthew? Look at me.'

'I can't,' Matthew said. He was trembling.

'Ah, fuck.'

Gilbert released his wrist suddenly, and before Matthew knew what was happening, Gilbert's hands were cupping his face. They forced it upwards.

He tried to resist, but Gilbert was stronger than he was. Their eyes met.

Gilbert's were intent, and his face was too close to Matthew's.

'Don't,' Matthew said automatically.

'Don't what?' Gilbert asked him. 'Kiss you?'

Matthew could feel his breath, and smell the ghost of maple syrup on it. Instead of turning him off, the scent made him wonder what Gilbert would taste like.

'Don't mess with me!' he said harshly. Why was Gilbert doing this?

'Alfie said you wouldn't!'

He tried to pull away, but Gilbert didn't let him go.

'I'm not messing with you,' Gilbert said.

'He told you I'm…' Matthew stopped. 'He told you. And now you're messing with me, and it's fucking mean.' He looked up at Gilbert, feeling the burn of tears prickling his eyes. 'So stop.'

'I'm not messing with you, Matthew.' Gilbert's angular brows drew down. He still hadn't let go of Matthew's face. 'God, do you have any idea how adorable you are?' he asked. 'That fucking apron you were wearing… That hair.. those EYES.' He grimaced as if he were in pain. 'Jesus. You're so gorgeous and you don't even know it.'

'Gilbert…' Matthew had no idea what to say to the flood of compliments. His mind was a blank. All he could think was- Is he serious?

It seemed that he was.

'Matthew,' Gilbert said huskily. He lowered his head, and Matthew felt moist lips brush the corner of his mouth. His breath left him in a shaky exhale. It turned into a whimper when Gilbert turned his head a little and his lips found Matthew's.

Gilbert's mouth was covering his, and Gilbert's hands were still holding his face still. Gilbert was kissing him.

Matthew didn't know what he was going to do about it, until his hands came up of their own will and fisted in Gilbert's shirt.

His own mouth opened, then- to cry out, to gasp, to kiss back, he had no idea which.

Then Gilbert's tongue slid inside.

Matthew felt as though every bone in his body had turned to liquid.

He was melting. The feeling that had tickled his stomach before in response to Gilbert's voice had turned into a full body ache.

I'm hard, he thought with sudden clarity.

Gilbert is kissing me, and I am harder than I get when I touch myself.

He made a desperate strangled sound and Gilbert pulled back as if it had been a complaint.

Matthew was guiltily sure that it hadn't been.

'Okay?' Gilbert asked him.

'G-Gilbert,' Matthew said. He wanted to ask what Gilbert thought he was doing, but he couldn't get his voice to come out for the rest of the sentence.

All Gilbert heard was his name. 'Oh, yeah,' he said. 'The awesome Gilbert, remember?' He slid his hands up over Matthew's cheeks and into his hair, burying his fingers in it. 'This is gorgeous,' he said.

Matthew let Gilbert run his fingers through his hair, until Gilbert stopped and fixed him with another red-eyed stare.

'Are you scared?' Gilbert asked him suddenly.

After a second, Matthew shook his head. No, he wasn't scared.

He was terrified.

'Are you sure?' Gilbert asked.

Matthew shook his head again, even though he really meant yes, he was sure.

Gilbert let out his breath. 'Okay,' he said. As if that had been permission, he slid his hands back down until they cupped Matthew's face again.

Then he leaned down slowly.

'Gil…' Matthew whispered.

He was supposed to say, Gil, don't.

Gil, stop.

Gil, wait.

Whatever it was supposed to be, he never got the chance to say it.

Gilbert was more aggressive this time. He sucked on Matthew's bottom lip, then bit down on it with just enough teeth. Then he stroked the tender spot with his tongue.

When Matthew opened his mouth in an involuntary gasp, Gilbert slid inside. His tongue circled the tip of Matthew's with a motion as dizzying as it was practiced.

Matthew's hands were still fisted in Gilbert's shirt. Somehow he had ended up against the counter with Gilbert almost straddling him.

Part of his brain was screaming at him that he had to make Gilbert stop. The other part was simply drowning.

No one had ever kissed him before, not unless you counted Alfred. Certainly no one had ever kissed him like this.

Matthew had known since he hit puberty that he was not attracted to girls, but there had never been anyone he wanted. Not until Gilbert.

And now this:

Now Gilbert, kissing Matthew as if he wanted to fuck him right now, right up against this counter.

Abruptly Matthew pushed Gilbert away. Unlocking his fingers from Gilbert's shirt, he splayed them on his chest.

'Stop,' he said.

Gilbert stopped.

'Let me go,' Matthew said. He could hear that his voice was shaking. 'For reals,' he added.

'Okay.' Gilbert let go and backed away, holding his hands out to his sides. He was breathing hard, and his lips looked as swollen as Matthew's must be.

Oh, my god, Matthew thought. What have I done?

He covered his face with his hands, unable to look at Gilbert anymore. 'Can you…' he said. 'Can you just… I need to go to my room.'

'Matthew?' Gilbert asked.

'Just, don't.' Matthew bit down on his lip hard.

It didn't work to stop the tears, so he pressed his fingertips into his eyes instead.

He could feel Gilbert close to him, feel the weight of his stare, but Gilbert didn't try to touch him.

'Okay,' Gilbert said. And then, 'I'm sorry.'

Without looking up, Matthew shook his head. This wasn't Gilbert's fault. Not really.

It was his own fault, for being fucked up, and for not seriously telling Gilbert no. For not being ABLE to tell him no.

For not even wanting to tell him no.

'I didn't mean to…' Gilbert said. He sounded seriously worried now.

'I know.' Matthew slipped toward the door. His chest hurt, and his fingers itched for a pen.

Gilbert felt bad now, probably felt like a rapist, and that was Matthew's fault, too.

Yeah, Gilbert had moved a little fast, but anyone else would probably have been okay with it- especially if they wanted Gilbert as bad as Matthew did.

Surely Gilbert could tell.

He must have thought that Matthew wanted him to…

Gilbert should have kissed Alfred. Alfred was perfect and beautiful and not crazy. Matthew wasn't.

'I'm really sorry,' Gilbert said again.

Oh fuck, Matthew thought, if you say it again I'm so going to cry right here.

And then I'll have to kill myself.

'S'okay,' he said aloud. He backed out of the kitchen. 'I'm going upstairs. You can hang out down here or whatever. Alfie will be back later.'

Would Alfred tell Gilbert why Matthew had acted so fucked up? Then at least Gilbert would understand that it wasn't his fault.

'Matthew…' Gilbert said. 'Please wait.'

Matthew stopped. He stayed with his back to Gilbert, so Gilbert wouldn't see his face. 'What is it?' he asked carefully.

'Do you… Do you want me to leave?'

Oh god, he sounded so lost.

'No,' Matthew said.

'Are you mad at me?'

'No.'

'I didn't mean to go too far.'

Too far.

Matthew almost laughed.

He tasted blood- he'd bitten his lip for reals this time.

'You didn't,' he said.

How far was too far?

For him, any far was too far. But Gilbert didn't know that. Couldn't know that.

Because Matthew hadn't told him. And he wouldn't tell him.

'Are you ever gonna talk to me again?' Gilbert asked.

'I don't know,' Matthew said honestly.

Gilbert didn't say anything else, and Matthew took the chance to leave.

There might not be another, and he could not spend a second more feeling like this- Like his heart was seriously about to break.

Matthew hurried up the stairs to his room, almost expecting to hear Gilbert's footsteps behind him. But Gilbert didn't follow him.

Apparently, Gilbert had gotten the point.

Closing the door, to his room, Matthew dropped face first on the bed and buried his face in the quilt.

His body still ached. Just kissing Gilbert had done that to him. He was never going to forget the feel of Gilbert's teeth on his lip, of Gilbert's tongue in his mouth.

He sobbed once, a bitter, broken sound, and his hand shot out, digging in the drawer for a pen.

With it in his fingers, he finally felt like himself again.

This time the word he wrote on his skin was a name.

'Mattie?'

It was Alfred's voice. Matthew lifted his head, and the pen rolled out of his fingers. They were numb from being clawed around it for so long.

'I'm in here,' he said.

The door opened a crack. 'Mattie… Are you okay?'

'Yeah.'

'Can I come in?'

'Okay.' Matthew felt the bed sink down under Alfred's weight and then his brother's arms went around him. Alfred smelled like shampoo and car exhaust, and chewing gum from his breath. Peppermint. He squeezed Matthew tightly, and after a moment Matthew hugged him back. 'I'm okay,' he said again.

'Matthew, Gilbert told me what happened,' Alfred said.

'Oh.' Matthew didn't know what to say to that. He rested his chin on Alfred's shoulder and wondered what Alfred was thinking.

Was Alfred jealous?

Pissed?

Hurt?

He had no idea what Gilbert was to Alfred.

He hadn't even thought about that.

Now he felt doubly guilty, for possibly hurting his brother.

But, 'Was it that bad?' Alfred asked him.

'Was what that bad?' Matthew asked. He was lost.

'Gilbert,' Alfred clarified. 'Is he that bad of a kisser?'

Matthew looked at his brother, and saw Alfred grinning at him. 'Alfie!' he said.

'So he's not that bad?' Alfred asked.

'Alfie, did you know he was gonna do that?'

'No,' Alfred said. 'Well… I kind of thought he liked you, but I didn't know he'd do that.'

'He doesn't like me,' Matthew told him. 'He doesn't even know me.'

'He wants to.'

'No, he doesn't.' Matthew pulled out of Alfred's arms. 'If he knew me, he wouldn't want to kiss me anymore.'

'Yeah, he would.' Alfred leaned forward, trying to see Matthew's face. 'Do you want him to want to?'

'No,' Matthew said.

'Are you lying?' Alfred asked.

Matthew didn't answer.

'You do want him to,' Alfred said. 'Wow, Mattie. You really like him, huh?' His grin had softened into a genuine smile.

'I can't,' Matthew said quickly.

'Yeah, you can,' Alfred told him. 'You should. Gilbert's awesome, and he's really into you.'

'I don't know him,' Matthew said.

'You could get to know him.' Alfred sounded hopeful, but Matthew shook his head.

'Uh uh,' he said. And then he sighed, frustrated. 'I wish he wasn't staying here.'

'Did you tell him that?' Alfred asked.

'No. Of course not.'

'That's good, 'cause he feels really bad. He didn't mean to upset you.'

Upset him. That was one word for it. What Gilbert had really done was run over him like a bulldozer. And he had liked it. 'He didn't,' Matthew said honestly. 'I mean… He kind of moved a little fast, but… It wasn't awful.'

'I bet it wasn't,' Alfred said. 'I bet it was really good. Wasn't it?'

'Yeah, I guess.' Matthew remembered Gilbert's tongue sliding against his. He blushed. Alfred leaned forward and looked at him closer.

'Wow,' he said. 'I do believe my little brother has lost his kiss virginity.'

'Shut up.'

'Seriously, though, are you okay with things? Gilbert said you were upset.'

Matthew shook his head. 'I just… I don't want him to know. About me.'

'Mattie, he won't care.'

'Alfie, please.'

'I'm not going to say anything,' Alfred said. 'But you should. Tell him what's bothering you. If you want him, you should have him.'

'I don't want him.'

'Yes you do.'

Matthew bit his lip. 'Alfie, I can't,' he said. 'I can't want him. It hurts too much.'

'Mattie, don't cry.' Alfred hugged him again. 'We'll figure this shiz out, okay? Talk to Gilbert. You don't have to tell him everything. Just tell him you like him. He thinks you hate him now.'

'I don't hate him.'

'I know you don't, but he doesn't know that.'

'Where is he?' Matthew asked reluctantly.

'At work,' Alfred said. 'I dropped him off a little bit ago.'

'He works?'

'Sure. He works at the Pet Mall.'

Matthew had no idea what that was. It didn't really matter.

'Oh,' he said,

'I'm picking him up at 4. So you'll be asleep. But in the morning, can you talk to him?' Alfred leaned close again. Matthew caught a whiff of peppermint.

'I guess,' he said.

'Okay, Mattie. Love you.'

'I love you too.'

Alfred got off the bed. 'You hungry?' he asked. 'You want some burgers or something?'

'No, I just wanna sleep,' Matthew said.

'Okay. I'll wake you up in the morning.'

''Kay.'

Matthew heard his door close. He rolled over again and put his face into his pillow.

How was he supposed to talk to Gilbert?

How was he supposed to even look at Gilbert?

But Alfred had said that Gilbert really liked him.

Someone else might fuck with him, but Alfred never would. Not about something like this.

No one ever seemed to see Matthew. He was always in his twin's shadow.

But Gilbert had met Alfred first, and it was Matthew he wanted.

That strange, shivery thrill ran through Matthew's body again. He wrapped his arms around the pillow and pretended that it was Gilbert he was holding.

'I wanted you too,' he whispered. 'I really did…'

But it could never happen. Not in real life. He knew that much.

'Mattie. Wakey wakey.'

It seemed like no time at all had passed since Matthew had closed his eyes. He opened them anyway. 'Okay.'

This time Alfred didn't come in.

Matthew got out of bed.

He brushed his teeth and took a quick shower, then put his pajama pants back on and grabbed a fresh long-sleeved T from his dresser. He could tell even in the dark that it was his favorite. The material was worn thin and soft, the plasticky logo almost indistinguishable now.

Matthew pulled the sleeves down over his wrists, then ignored the stab of guilt as he grabbed a pen and wrote Gilbert's name on the wall next to his headboard. It didn't even show up against all the other words written there, but it made him feel better.

What was the point of pretending to be normal, when he knew he wasn't?

Outside his room, he blinked at the brightness of the light. Apparently, it really was morning. Matthew rubbed his eyes with the back of one hand, then yawned and walked barefoot down the stairs to the kitchen.

'Alfie?'

'There you are.' Alfred bounced upright from where he had been resting his cheek on the tabletop. 'I'm hungry, make me pancakes.'

His hair was sticking straight up, and he looked adorably rumpled. Matthew felt a surge of love for his twin.

''Kay.' He got the mixing bowl and flour out of the cupboard. 'Is Gilbert eating?'

'Yeah,' Alfred said. 'I'll wake him up when you're done.'

''Kay.' Matthew started the pan heating, then cracked an egg into the bowl. 'Is he… Did he say anything else?'

'Nah. He was pretty wasted. I think his job really sucks.'

'Oh. That sucks.'

'I know, right?' Alfred drank some orange juice. 'Hey Mattie?'

'Yeah?'

'Are you gonna talk to him?'

'I don't know.' He started beating the batter. 'It's probably better if I don't say anything. We can just pretend it never happened.'

'I don't think Gilbert wants to pretend that.'

'Maybe it's not up to him,' Matthew said. He stirred in the melted butter. 'You can call him now. This is almost ready.'

'Okay.' Alfred finished his orange juice and got up.

In a few minutes, though, he was back. 'He's taking a shower. I told him it was okay. He was pretty dirty.'

'It's fine,' Matthew said. Even if the respite was brief, it was a relief.

The pancakes were almost all cooked by the time Gilbert walked into the kitchen. He was wearing a pair of Alfred's black jeans, and one of Alfred's America shirts. The pants were just a little too big for him, and hung low on his lean hips. He ran his hand back through his wet white hair, making it stand up in spikes.

'It's pancakes again,' Alfred said. He looked over at Gilbert and grinned at the sight of his own clothes. 'Mattie loves 'em, so it's all he ever cooks for breakfast.'

'I could make something else, if you want,' Matthew said. He snuck another look at Gilbert and then scooped some more pancakes onto the plate he held.

'I love pancakes,' Gilbert said.

'Mmhmm,' Alfred replied in a suggestive tone. Matthew shot a quelling look at his brother.

'Here,' he said. He set a plate of pancakes down for Gilbert and then picked up a bottle of maple syrup from the middle of the table. 'Syrup?'

'Yes, please,' Gilbert said.

Matthew took the lid off the syrup and started pouring it onto Gilbert's pancakes. 'Say when.'

When the syrup began to be overkill and Gilbert still hadn't said anything, Matthew stopped pouring. He looked away from the plate and into Gilbert's face. 'You didn't say when.'

'Sorry,' Gilbert said.

Wow, Matthew thought. Was he… Yes, Gilbert was blushing. His pale cheeks were flushed pink, and his eyes were a little wide.

Matthew unconsciously licked his lips. His eyes caught on Gilbert's, and his heart began to race. He bit down on his lip, and Gilbert's fork banged into his plate. They both jumped.

'Okay, guys,' Alfred said. 'Is it just me, or is the sexual tension through the roof?'

'Shut up, Alfie,' Matthew said. He felt his own cheeks heat up, and mentally cursed his brother, who was grinning like a maniac.

'Just eat,' he said. He set another plate of pancakes in front of his twin. 'I'm going upstairs.'

'Please don't,' Gilbert said, looking up from his plate. 'Stay and eat.'

Shit. Gilbert was looking at him with puppy dog eyes.

'Okay,' Matthew said reluctantly. He pushed back the curl that was dangling in his vision and then pinched his lip between his thumb and forefinger. Fuck, this was going to be harder than he had thought.

He knew one thing, though. He wasn't going to be able to talk to Gilbert. He couldn't even look at him.

Going back to the stove, he loaded some pancakes off the platter onto a plate for himself and then drowned them in syrup.

'Are you okay?' Alfred asked when he sat down.

'Yeah,' Matthew said.

'Cool.'

Alfred turned his attention back to his own plate. His pancakes were disappearing at a rapid pace. Before Matthew even finished his first one, Alfred was licking a last bit of syrup off the edge of his fork.

Matthew looked over at him, about to ask if he wanted more, when Alfred stood up.

'Gotta go,' he said.

What? Matthew knew damn well Alfred didn't have anywhere he had to be. 'Alfie-' he started.

'Seeya, twinsie,' Alfred said. 'Bye, Gilbo.' He blew them each a kiss and then practically threw himself out of the kitchen. 'Love ya!' he called as he disappeared.

'Damn it,' Matthew said. His fingers twitched, wanting to wrap around a pen. He couldn't be alone with Gilbert. He couldn't!

'Does he always do that?' Gilbert asked curiously.

'No. I think he's doing it on purpose,' Matthew said without looking at him. 'I'm gonna go.'

He stood up.

'Cause you don't want to be alone with me,' Gilbert said. He sounded almost accusatory.

'I CAN'T,' Matthew protested.

'Why not? Am I that scary?' Now Gilbert sounded hurt.

'No…' Matthew said, even though he should have told him yes.

'Then why? Gilbert asked in a small voice. Matthew glanced over and saw that he was squeezing himself down in his chair, as if he were trying to look smaller physically, too. It didn't really help, but the attempt gave Matthew a sharp pain in his chest.

Poor Gilbert. He had no idea what he was dealing with.

'I just want to talk,' Gilbert said. 'So why are you always running away from me?'

'Because I can't…'

Matthew's voice trailed off. He couldn't what? He didn't even really know what Gilbert wanted from him.

'Can't what?' Gilbert asked.

'Can't do this,' Matthew said finally. 'With you.'

'Do what with me?'

Gilbert wanted him to say it.

Gilbert wanted specifics. Well, he wasn't getting them.

'Gilbert,' Matthew said. It was a warning, but it didn't have the desired result.

Instead, Gilbert sat bolt upright in his chair, not trying to look small anymore.

'Say it again,' he said.

'Gilbert-' Matthew started. He wasn't sure what he was going to say, but the words died in his throat when Gilbert's eyes locked with his.

He knew that look. He remembered that look.

'Oh, yeah,' Gilbert said. His voice had gone all husky again, too. He stood up, and Matthew took a cautious step back.

'Matthew, don't run away,' Gilbert said. 'Please.'

Matthew closed his fingers around the fabric of his cuffs and squeezed them. 'Gilbert, don't,' he said.

He couldn't take a repeat of yesterday. He COULDN'T. He'd snap.

'I'm not gonna hurt you.' Gilbert didn't move, but his eyes stayed locked on Matthew. 'I swear,' he said. 'Just, please. Come here.'

'Why?' Matthew asked.

'Matthew.' Gilbert's voice had dropped an octave. 'Come. Here.'

Oh, fuck, Matthew thought. Don't do it. Don't do it.

But he did.

When he got within reach, Gilbert took him by the shoulders. His grip was light, but it still made Matthew's heart pound against his ribs. He closed his eyes and shivered.

What was this? He had never felt anything like this before.

'Jesus,' Gilbert said in a strange voice.

Matthew felt something brush his eyelashes. Something wet.

Gilbert's tongue?

He made a small noise at the touch.

'Are you crying?' Gilbert asked him. 'God, I didn't mean to make you cry.'

'I'm not crying,' Matthew said. He didn't think he was, anyway.

'Are you sure?' Gilbert asked.

'Of course I'm sure,' Matthew said, although he wasn't really one hundred percent certain.

Gilbert ran his hands down Matthew's arms, rubbing them gently through the fabric of his shirt. It felt weird, but not bad.

'Talk to me,' Gilbert said. 'Tell me how you feel.'

I can't, Matthew thought. 'Uh uh,' he said aloud. He realized that his voice was maybe too quiet for Gilbert to hear, so he shook his head too.

'Why not?' Gilbert asked him.

'I don't want to,' Matthew said.

'Why?' Gilbert asked.

'I don't want to.'

Surely that was reason enough.

'Matthew, you are killing me.'

Matthew shivered as Gilbert leaned down to him. He felt Gilbert's lips graze his cheek.

He was killing Gilbert? What about what Gilbert was doing to him?

Gilbert's lips were soft. He could feel Gilbert's breath on his skin- a little bit fast, as if Gilbert was having trouble dealing with this, too.

'Matthew, kiss me,' Gilbert said in his ear.

'Fuck.' Matthew's fingernails bit into his palms.

'Please?' Gilbert asked.

'FUCK,' Matthew said again. Then his hands were in Gilbert's short white hair. He fisted a double handful as his open mouth found Gilbert's. Gilbert immediately slipped his tongue inside.

Matthew stumbled backwards, dragging Gilbert with him. He came up against the oven, and he whimpered at the feeling of Gilbert's tongue filling his mouth.

Gilbert must have misinterpreted the sound, because he pulled Matthew sideways so that he was up against the counter instead.

That almost undid Matthew even more than the way that Gilbert was kissing him, but Gilbert's kiss was more than enough to undo him all by itself.

Matthew felt as though he was falling over a cliff. The only thing he had to hang onto now was Gilbert. But Gilbert was falling too.

He drew back, gasping for breath. 'We keep doing this in the kitchen,' he said. His voice was ragged and sounded half drunk.

Then he leaned down and took Matthew's mouth again.

When Matthew couldn't handle the kiss anymore he dragged his lips away from Gilbert's and leaned forward until his face rested against Gilbert's neck.

'God,' he said. 'What are you doing to me?'

'Same thing you're doing to me,' Gilbert told him.

He put his hand under Matthew's chin and lifted it.

No, Matthew thought. No, I can't take any more.

When Gilbert's tongue slipped along his bottom lip, his whole body jerked. 'Ah!' he said.

'Hey.' Gilbert licked him again, slower, and then let go of his chin to put both hands on Matthew's hips instead. 'Here, feel this,' he said.

He pulled Matthew forward, until their lower bodies were flush together.

With Gilbert pressed into him like that, Matthew caught his breath. 'Gilbert,' he said.

'Yeah,' Gilbert answered.

Gilbert was hard.

Matthew could feel it against his thigh.

He was hard, too. Could Gilbert feel him?

Gilbert lowered his head and put his mouth on Matthew's collar bone, and Matthew heard himself make a small, frantic noise.

At the sound, Gilbert moved his hands from Matthew's hips up to his stomach.

'Matthew,' Gilbert said against his neck. 'I'm gonna touch you. Okay?'

'Um...' Matthew said.

Sensation was overwhelming him. The feel of Gilbert's breath on his skin, the sound of Gilbert's rough voice in his ear, the touch of Gilbert's hands edging under his shirt…

The skin of his belly twitched as Gilbert's fingers ran over it and he made another small involuntary whimper.

'It's okay,' Gilbert said, sounding a little breathless. 'It's really okay, see?' His hands moved higher, easing up Matthew's chest. 'Does that feel good?'

'Gilbert,' Matthew said.

Is that really me? Do I really sound like that?

'Gilbert,' he said again.

Gilbert's forehead was against his shoulder.

Gilbert was breathing hard, too. His hands had stopped moving, his palms resting on Matthew's chest.

Gilbert must be able to feel Matthew's rapid heartbeat, the way that Matthew couldn't catch his breath.

Had he stopped?

Did Matthew want him to have stopped?

'Fuck,' Gilbert said. 'Matthew? Are you okay?'

Matthew opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out. He shivered at the feel of Gilbert's palms against his skin.

His nipples had drawn tight, and he was painfully, achingly hard.

If Gilbert stopped now, he might die.

If this went any further, he would die.

I can't, he thought.

I can't…

Gilbert took his hands out from under Matthew's shirt and drew back from him.

'Mattie?'

I don't want him to stop, Matthew thought suddenly, desperately. I want to him to go all the way. I don't care what happens after. I need this. I need him.

Please.

'Matthew,' Gilbert said again.

Gilbert was still waiting for an answer.

'Oh… Um, yeah,' Matthew said.

That obviously wasn't enough of an answer.

'So… Do you want to do this?' Gilbert asked plainly.

Matthew jerked a little at the question. 'Don't ask me,' he told Gilbert. 'If you ask me, I have to say no.'

'Why?' Gilbert's hands landed on his shoulders, his thumbs stroking Matthew's tense muscles. 'Why do you have to say no?'

'Because…' Matthew said. 'I've never…' Oh, shit, he hadn't meant to say that, but honesty forced him to go on. 'And I don't even know you, and you're gonna get tired of me and I'm not gonna get tired of you. Fuck.' He slid out from under Gilbert's hands and rubbed his eyes hard. 'Damn it!'

'Matthew?' Gilbert asked.

'Fuck,' Matthew said again. He raised his eyes to Gilbert's face, trying not to wince when he felt a tear roll down his cheek. Great. Now he really was crying. 'Why'd you do this to me?'

'Oh,' Gilbert said. He had a strange intent look on his face. It made the hair stand up on the back of Matthew's neck, and his already hard dick got even harder. His stomach flipped over and he felt like he might pass out from the sudden rush of blood to his lower body.

'Only 'cause I wanted to,' Gilbert said. 'So bad.' He grabbed Matthew by the wrist. 'I bet you I won't get tired.'

I'm done now, Matthew thought. I don't think there is any going back from this.

He let Gilbert pull him out of the kitchen and up the stairs, but when they reached his own room, he stopped.

Gilbert wanted to do it in his room?

'Here?' Matthew asked. He paused in the doorway, unwilling to open it.

'It's yours, isn't?' Gilbert asked him. 'Do you not want me here?'

'It's not that.' It wasn't that he didn't want Gilbert in his room… In his bed… Matthew shivered again. 'Just… Keep the light off,' he said.

'Okay.'

Gilbert didn't seem to have a problem with that. In the room, he dragged Matthew down onto the bed as if he'd been doing it for his whole life. He wrapped Matthew up in his arms and just held him.

'Oh,' Matthew said. It felt nice. He'd never imagined that Gilbert would do something like that.

'You smell good,' Gilbert said in his ear. 'And you feel good. I want you so bad. You just don't know. As soon as I saw you, I wanted you.'

'Oh,' Matthew said again. His heart was racing and the feel of Gilbert's breath in his ear made him quiver.

Cuddling was nice, but this was what he had come upstairs for, wasn't it?

Gilbert kissed him.

'Gil…' he said. Gilbert's tongue played with his, and he dug his fingernails into Gilbert's back. 'Ah.'

'Are you okay with this?' Gilbert asked, pulling back.

'…Yeah,' Matthew said.

'Are you sure?'

'Yeah.'

He wanted this. Wanted Gilbert.

'You can take off your shirt,' Gilbert said.

Matthew's muscles locked suddenly. 'Do I have to?' he asked.

''Course not,' Gilbert told him. He drew back and yanked his own shirt over his head, then dropped it off the edge of the bed. 'You don't have to do anything you don't want. But you can touch me, too, you know.' In the next moment, he grabbed both of Matthew's hands and flattened them against his chest.

'Oh,' Matthew said once more. He could feel warm skin and smooth muscles. Gilbert's chest was pale, and slightly damp with sweat, and he felt amazing. 'You're…'

'Awesome?' Gilbert asked.

'Yeah,' Matthew said. When Gilbert let go of him, his hands strayed further, mapping the contours of Gilbert's chest. Gilbert in real life was even sexier than Matthew could ever have imagined him.

Is this really me, he wondered? Touching someone like this? It can't be.

'Mm,' Gilbert said. 'Feels nice. You can go lower if you want.'

'Gilbert!' Matthew almost pulled his hands away.

'Hey, it's gonna happen,' Gilbert said. Suddenly he rolled over, pinning Matthew under his weight. His mouth came down on Matthew's, and his tongue found its way inside. Matthew's hands were trapped between them, but Gilbert's weren't.

They eased under the hem of Matthew's shirt, stroking across his stomach. His skin jumped, and he wondered if he had made a noise.

If he had, Gilbert's kiss had swallowed it.

'Has anyone ever done this?' Gilbert asked suddenly, sliding downwards away from Matthew's mouth.

One hand pushed his shirt up, and then Gilbert's tongue licked across his belly.

'Ow! No!' Matthew yelped. He put his hands into Gilbert's hair to push him away, but what Gilbert was doing felt so incredible that he couldn't.

'Shh…' Gilbert licked him again, slower this time. His tongue slid dangerously close to regions that no one but Matthew had ever even touched before. 'You're gonna want to take these off,' he said.

'Gilbert.'

'What?'Gilbert asked.

'You're making me crazy,' Matthew told him.

'I know,' Gilbert said. He looked up at Matthew and grinned. 'Has anyone ever jacked you off? Other than you?'

'N-No,' Matthew said. 'Jesus, Gilbert!'

What kind of question was that?

Apparently, the Gilbert kind.

Without asking for permission, Gilbert reached for Matthew's jeans and undid the snap.

'Okay, I've never done this for anyone but the awesome me, so bear with me here.'

His hand slid inside before Matthew could protest. It closed around Matthew's dick.

Matthew felt himself come up off the bed as if Gilbert had touched him with a cattle prod. Then his shock turned to an agony of pleasure as Gilbert squeezed him.

'Mmm..' he gasped.

Alfred had said that having sex was like touching yourself, but better.

He was right, Matthew thought.

'Fuck…' he said. 'Gilbert.'

He was going to come. He could feel it. 'Gilbert,' he said again, with some effort. 'If you don't ease up, I'm gonna…'

'Go ahead,' Gilbert said.

The way he said it almost made Matthew come right there. Then Gilbert leaned over and breathed his hot breath on Matthew's chest. 'I want to feel it,' he said. He slid his hand down, still squeezing, and then slid it back up.

'Fuck,' Matthew said. 'Fuck, fuck. Oh, shit.'

'Coming?' Gilbert asked.

'…Yeah,' Matthew breathed.

'Good.' Gilbert bent his head, and his tongue slid over Matthew's nipple.

'Gilbert!' Matthew came up off the bed again, and his whole body drew tight. It felt so good it almost hurt. 'Ah!' he said. He felt everything clench and let go, and he knew he had just come all over Gilbert's hand.

Oh, fuck, he thought. Oh fuck, that felt good… But I shouldn't have…

'Okay,' Gilbert said. He drew his hand out of Matthew's jeans and wiped it off on his own pants as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. 'Okay, now my turn, please? Just touch me a little. It's not gonna take much.'

He dropped onto his back beside Matthew and lay there, waiting.

'O-Okay,' Matthew said. He sat up. He still felt shaky and weak, and he knew that his fingers were trembling. He hoped Gilbert couldn't feel it. He touched Gilbert's chest with his fingertips, tracing the arch of his ribs.

'Feels nice,' Gilbert said. 'Lower, okay?'

Matthew moved his hands downward, to where the skin pulled tight across the concavity of Gilbert's belly. It felt good, but his stomach was starting to knot up. He didn't know how to do this. Didn't know how to touch Gilbert, how to do to Gilbert what Gilbert had just done to him.

He slid his fingers lower, to where a trail of silver hair disappeared into Gilbert's pants.

'Are you scared?' Gilbert asked.

'Maybe…' Matthew said.

'Don't be. It's just me.'

Matthew reached Gilbert's waistband. He had to do this, and he couldn't fuck around. Just do it, he thought.

With shaky fingers, he slid the button out of its hole and then grabbed the zipper pull. His fingertips brushed Gilbert's dick through the fabric. Gilbert was hard. The zipper went down, and Gilbert was already pushing at the fly. He made a small urgent sound when Matthew touched him. 'Please,' he said.

'Okay.'

Matthew pulled down the waistband of Gilbert's boxers, and Gilbert's dick popped out. He was bigger than Matthew had expected, and for a second Matthew just stared at him. He'd never seen anyone else's dick before, not counting Alfred's. He and Alfred were twins. It wasn't weird for them to have seen each other. But this was a little weird.

No, it's not, Matthew thought. It's Gilbert.

Before he could change his mind, he leaned down and took it in his mouth.

Alfred had done this. 'It's like eating a popsicle,' he told Matthew. 'Just don't bite, and man, it drives them crazy. When someone does it for you, you'll know what I mean.'

Doing it for Gilbert, Matthew knew what Alfred had meant.

'Jesus CHRIST,' Gilbert said hoarsely. His back was arched up, pushing him deeper into Matthew's mouth, and his head was pressed back into the pillow so hard that his neck made a continuous arc.

'Matthew,' he said. 'Ah, ah, Matthew… Oh Matthew. Oh fuck. Ahhhh FUCK.'

On the last word, his hips bucked hard and Matthew swallowed before he could choke.

'I always swallow,' Alfred had told him. 'Spitting is rude.'

Wow, Matthew thought, letting Gilbert go and wiping his mouth. That was weird, but… Not awful.

'Holy fuck,' Gilbert whispered when he had caught his breath. 'You didn't have to do that.'

'I wanted to,' Matthew said.

Gilbert reached for him and pulled him down, until he was half lying on Gilbert's sweaty chest. It felt nice, not weird at all.

'Are you okay?' Gilbert asked.

'Yeah,' Matthew said.

'Man, Alfred is gonna kill me.' He didn't sound too worried, though.

'No, he won't,' Matthew said.

'Then Ludwig will.'

'Who's Ludwig?' Matthew asked. He'd never heard the name before.

'My brother,' Gilbert told him.

'Oh.'

'But you know what?' Gilbert said. 'I don't care. 'Cause I've got you.'

Matthew drew in his breath. Did Gilbert mean that? He had figured that Gilbert wanted to sleep with him, but this sounded like more than that. 'Are you sure?' he asked.

'Yeah,' Gilbert said.

'But I'm weird… And you don't even know me.' It was too much to hope for that Gilbert liked him like that.

But Gilbert seemed serious. 'I'll get to know you,' he said. 'And I don't care if you're weird. Maybe I'm weird, too.' He pulled Matthew a little closer. 'How do you feel about me?' he asked.

Matthew bit his tongue. Then he opened his mouth. It wasn't fair not to tell Gilbert the truth.

'Like if you weren't here, I couldn't breathe,' he said.

Gilbert squeezed him hard. Then he loosened his grip a little and put his face into Matthew's hair. Matthew could feel his warm breath seeping through the strands. It tickled, but he didn't want to move.

'Let's sleep, okay?' Gilbert whispered. 'I wanna hold you. We can shower later.'

'Okay,' Matthew whispered back. He let his own head come to rest on Gilbert's shoulder.

I've never been this happy, he thought, closing his eyes. I'm so happy I don't want this moment to end.

Then he thought- I must be dreaming, 'cause this would never happen in real life.

If he was dreaming, then he didn't ever want to wake up. He could feel Gilbert's heart beating under his cheek, and Gilbert's arms were still wrapped around him like a warm blanket. Gilbert's shirt smelled like Alfred. It smelled like home, but maybe that wasn't because it smelled like Alfred, maybe that was because it was Gilbert wearing it.

You're so dumb, Mattie, he thought. If you don't want to wake up, then that means it's okay to fall asleep.

'Mattie. Hey, Mattie.'

Matthew surfaced to the sound of his brother's voice, as usual.

That was the only thing that was usual, though.

Matthew hadn't slept with anyone else since Alfred had stopped sleeping in his bed when they were twelve.

He could feel every inch of Gilbert's body pressed against his, enough to tell easily that Gilbert was happy to wake up with him.

Gilbert's warm breath ran over his ear as Gilbert mumbled, 'Five more minutes,' and tightened his arms around Matthew's ribs.

'Mattie!' Alfred called, louder.

Before Matthew could answer him, or even remember why he needed to, Alfred opened the door and flipped on the light.

'Alfred, no!'

Matthew tried to jerk upright, but Gilbert was still holding onto him.

'Oh, shizznap,' Alfred said.

Matthew's cry and Alfred's response had finally been enough to rouse Gilbert. He sat bolt upright.

'What is it?' he exclaimed.

Matthew squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't want to see the walls. More than that, he didn't want to see Gilbert when Gilbert saw the walls.

'Fuck, Mattie, I'm sorry,' Alfred said. 'I didn't know he was in here with you-' His voice cracked in the middle. 'Oh shit… you mean he didn't see it...?' He silenced himself- even Alfred knew how serious this was.

Don't look, Matthew thought. Don't look, don't look, don't look.

He was shaking, and he felt a tear tickle its way into his nostril.

It was too late. Of course it was too late.

Gilbert would have looked. Anyone would have looked.

What did Gilbert think of him now?

Not even Francis, their adopted older brother, or Arthur, Alfred's boss who had practically raised them, knew this part of Matthew.

Only Alfred knew it. Alfred, and now Gilbert.

Matthew had told Gilbert that he was weird, but that could never have been enough to prepare him for the sight of Matthew's walls. It even made Matthew sick to look at them, and he was the one who had done it.

He tried to hold in the first sob, but a small sound escaped him anyway.

It was too late to say, 'Don't look,' but he couldn't stop the words that poured out of him. If he had had a pen, if Gilbert had let him go, he would have written them across his skin in the color of blood.

Don't see me.

Don't see what I am.

I can't change it.

I know, because I've tried.

'Matthew?' Gilbert asked.

'Don't look,' Matthew said again. 'Don't look.'

'Matthew.' It was Alfred's voice now. 'Show him your arms.'

No, Matthew thought. Please, no.

But he felt Gilbert take hold of his arm, and then Gilbert's warm fingers pushed his sleeve up. Cold air touched his blackened skin and he shuddered.

He whimpered first, a desperate, breathless plea. And then he found a word.

'Don't!'

He tried to pull free from Gilbert's hold, but Gilbert didn't let go.

Dimly he heard Alfred say, 'Gilbo.'

Gilbert didn't move. 'What is it?'

'My brother thinks he's crazy,' Alfred said.

Matthew had never heard his voice so level. Even through his own misery, he heard the unusual tone of Alfred's voice and it made his stomach twinge with worry.

'He thinks he's fucked up, and that nobody will ever love him because of it,' Alfred said. 'I tell him that the only crazy part about him is the part that thinks that. But he doesn't believe me.'

'Alfred,' Gilbert said in a voice almost as strange as Alfred's.

'What?' Alfred asked.

'I love you,' Gilbert told him. 'But, get out.'

'Got it.'

Matthew heard the door close.

Alfred had left him with Gilbert.

He tried to curl into a ball, but it was impossible with Gilbert still holding onto his arm with one hand and gripping his shoulder with the other.

He felt Gilbert's mouth approach his ear, the tickle of Gilbert's breath in his hair.

'Matthew,' Gilbert said, so close that his words could not be ignored. 'You're not crazy. You're not fucked up. You're beautiful and amazing, and I've never wanted anyone the way I want you. You think nobody will ever love you? Well I think you're wrong. Because I fucking do. You don't want me to read that stuff? I won't. Not until you ask me to. And if you never do, that's okay, too. But don't ever think there's something wrong with you, 'cause there's not. You're perfect.'

The words entered Matthew's ear one by one, and then the whole of the sentence came together and slammed him in the heart.

'Gilbert,' he whispered.

Instinctively, he turned around and pressed himself into Gilbert's chest.

He wanted to say something back, but the only word that would leave his mouth was Gilbert's name.

'Gilbert, Gilbert,' he said.

'It's okay, Mattie,' Gilbert answered. 'I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere. Ever.'

Matthew's tears were making Gilbert's skin slick under his cheek, but Gilbert didn't seem to care. He pulled Matthew closer, held him tighter, and kissed the top of his head.

'Hey,' he said after a moment.

Matthew had calmed down a bit. 'Yeah?' he asked. His voice shook a little, but at least he could speak now.

'I love you,' Gilbert said.

He sounded so serious that Matthew twisted around until he could look up into Gilbert's face.

Gilbert was looking back at him. He looked as serious as he had sounded.

'Gilbert… I love you, too,' Matthew said.

Now Gilbert smirked a little. 'You've only known me five minutes.'

'I don't care,' Matthew told him. 'Besides, you said it first.'

Gilbert laughed out loud. 'I really love you,' he said. He sounded happy.

'I love you too,' Matthew answered again.

'Do you love me enough to have sex with me?' Gilbert asked.

Matthew blinked at him. 'I already did that.'

'I mean, again,' Gilbert said.

'Gilbert!'

'Matthew!' Gilbert leaned toward him, eyes sparkling.

'Don't tease me,' Matthew said, drawing back a little.

'Oh, no?' Gilbert rolled on top of him and licked his ear. 'Not like this?'

'Gilbert…'

'Or like this?' Gilbert moved his head and directed a quick nip at Matthew's bottom lip. His hand slid under the edge of Matthew's shirt, tickling his stomach.

'Oh… Gilbert,' Matthew said.

'Or like this?' Gilbert slid his hand downward and palmed Matthew through his PJs.

'Oh, fuck,' Matthew said.

'Or like this...' Gilbert leaned in and kissed him slowly.

Matthew had never imagined lying on his own bed in his own room with the light on and with somebody licking their way down his neck.

He thought dizzily that there were most likely a lot of things he hadn't imagined, and that Gilbert was probably about to show him most of them.

.