hey guys. i was reading some fics, and i wanted a specific story and couldnt find anything that quite fit my taste, so i wrote it. at 2 am. sorry for typos, im too tired to correct it. here ya go.

face family, torn apart. canuk centered. ft. nyo!japan and belarus, tw rape, AND THAT IS NOT MEANT ANYTHING AGAINST [rapist]. I LOVE THAT PERSON BUT JUST NEEDED SOMEBODY TO SCAR MY BBY MATTHEW

3njoy pups

After the divorce, Francis recieved full custody of both of the boys, though, given their age, the boys both regularly visited their ex-stepfather, sometimes in secret. The divorce broke Arthur, and Matthew saw him slip into a state of depression. He missed his son. He missed his family. Alfred was, biologically, Arthur's son, but courts ruled that the boys would be in Francis' care, due to lies that the Frenchman told about alcoholism. Arthur drank, sure, and he drank more than Francis, but he was no drunkard. he never fell asleep with a whiskey glass in hand where the boys could get to it. He never drank when he was the only adult around. The only reason their marriage fell apart was vecause they married too hastily, not knowing each other long enough to realize the only thing they had in common was thay they liked dick.

Matthew was only 14 at the time of the divorce, but he could tell things were bad. He grew up seeing his Papa horribly upset, just breaking down randomly, it seemed. After school, the boys would visit, and Matthew watched through the car window as Francis drove them away, just long enough to see Arthur's shoulders hunch and his head bow.

It was heartbreaking to see a man break like that... but it was encouraging to see how strong he became afterward. It only took five or six years, but Arthur was better. He didn't cry. He didn't whine, lament, or wish. He grew after the divorce, into a stronger man, one who, in all honesty... became, almost, cold. Calloused. He was almost a whole new person. He didn't smile as often as he did when Matthew was young, and his thick brows seemed to always be positioned in the shape of a 'V'.

Maybe that's why Matthew visited even more. More than Alfred, even. Matthew visited the man throughout his depressive stage, and though Matthew had a few friends and got bullied, Arthur sympathised better than Francis, and he comforted better than Francis. Arthur had his own troubles to worry about, and yet, he was there for Matthew all the way, holding him tight and teaching him to be strong. Telling him that friends he meets now wont be there later, anyway. Bullies will get bored.

Arthur still struggled with how his son became just like one of the jocks, attitude and all. Alfred began ignoring his brother, and stopped visiting his father as much. Arthur became the 'Estranged Dad' figure, and he had to deal with that. But he always had time to brew some tea, grab the syrup, and sit down with Matthew, just so the boy could talk about his day.

Matthew never liked many people in school, and it wasnt until Matthew got older, and Arthur became more stable, that he began developing relationships. Matthew began to like a certain small, shy girl named Sakura. They talked a bit and ate lunch together, but when Sakura gave Matthew his first kiss, Matthew didnt feel it. This, of course, is a subject Matthew stumbled all over during a conversation with Arthur, to which the Brit said, "give it another go, if you still feel nothing, tell her and move on." And that's what he did. he stuck around and was with Sakura for a bit longer, until he confirmed his lack of attraction to the girl. The preparation of the let-down was a whole other matter between the Brit and his ex-stepson.

Arthur was there for anything. So was Francis, but Arthur was always Matthew's first choice to talk to. Except for the night of the prom. It was only Arthur.

Both boys had gone to the same Prom, Alfred's senior year, and Matthew's junior. Alfred had a date, of course. Her name was Natalia, the bustiest girl in his class, whom Matthew was sure he made uncomfortable with the constant grinding, keeping her hips tight against his the whole night. but

Matthew was far more uncomfortable. He went alone, because "you only get one prom!" So he sat, most of the night, chatting with a few friends he'd made about irrelevant topics, until his friend Gilbert, from Trigonometry, the one who got held back a year, appeared, clearly high or drunk or both.

Matthew did develop a small crush on him throughout the course of the year, so he was glad to see him.

Gilbert slurred his words and stumbled on his way to the spot next to Matthew, and he began talking up a storm, like he hadnt seen Matthew in years and desperately wanted to catch up. Matthew tried to keep up with the man as quickly as he could, and soon, he was invited to dance with Gilbert, and ge gently accepted, a light blush feathering colour on his cheeks. Gilbert was stumbling all over the place, and though he tried to dance, it was hilarious when he couldn't.

Eventually, Matt had to pull himself from Gilbert's grip to get to the bathroom. It was empty, which gave Gilbert all he needed when he followed Matthew back to the bathroom. Matthew was at a urinal and doing his business when a pair of white hands grabbed at his hips, holding it tight and a pair of hips pressed up against his. Matthew felt the erection against his behind, just through the fabric of their pants, and he finished, shaking off a bit and moving to tuck it back into place while mumbling something about washing his hands.

One of the pale hand stopped him, though, and grabbed Matthew's flaccid cock, massaging it and making it become erect, as he cooed soft things into his ear.

Matthew wriggled against him, pushing Gilbert's hands away, only earning a shove against the side of the urinal, which resulted in a large bruise along his side, trying to push him over, away from the porcelain and grabbing his small wrists with one large hand, bringing them tight above his head. the other hand reached for his pant button and undid them, puahing them down.

Matthew began fighting and yelling, the music drowning out his cries and the man holding him much stronger than himself. He felt Gilbert's hand move to his own pants, and soon, a hot piece of meat againat his cheek, and after the sound of his spit, it was tearing him open, making him bleed, his insides raw and pained.

Matthew never cried so hard or screamed so loud. Gilbert was rough and went deep, and Matthew could have sworn he blacked out. But he knew he didn't.

He felt it each time Gilbert hit that sweet spot, despite the raw pain pulling at his insides, and he felt himself ejaculate, probably after Gilbert already had twice.

When Gilbert was done, Matthew was still crying, and the older man turned him around, kissing him on the lips. "Now, tell me that wasn't fun," he cooed, and left, leaving Matthew to slip to the floor and sob, the words echoing in his mind.

Still lying on the floor, Matthew gathered the strength to pull his phone out to call Arthur, simply mumbling into the speaker that he needs help.

And Arthur came.

Matthew managed to pull his pants up and get off the ground, but it hurt to walk. So Arthur spent the five dollars to park, and came into the venue bathroom where Matthew stood against the wall, far from where it happened. Arthur didnt ask. He saw Matthew's tears and helped him out, quietly, hushing him when the cries came out with each step. Arthur didn't care that there would probably be blood on his new car's seats.

The British man helped Matthew into the townhouse that he called his home, and drew a bath as soon as he coukd, helping him get into the shower in his other bathroom first. Arthur took his suit, threw it into the wash, got Matthew new clothes, towel, and helped him into the bath when he showered everything off. He swore that baths would help soothe anything, and.. it did, to an extent.

Matthew stayed the night, not sleeping, just watching mindless sitcoms on the telly with Arthur, though the older man did doze off a few times.

Matthew never told Francis. But soon enough, he told Arthur. He even told him how his body enjoyed it. He told him how dirty he felt. How used. How he hated that his body got off. He cried a lot that day.

And he saw Gilbert every day. He never said anything to anybody but Arthur, and Arthur asked if he could step in, but respected when Matthew said no.

But that was three years ago. Now, Matthew was studying biology online from a college across the country, and he was better, for the most part. he never said a word about Gilbert. But he never talked to him again. He had his nightmares, but he never screamed. He'd even found a boy he liked, though he never made any moves toward. Arthur was there most of the time to talk with Matthew about it, and he encouraged making a move, but never told him to.

Matthew was looking to move out, but rent was incredibly high in California without a roommate, so, upon an offer by Arthur, Matthew moved in. this made their tea time much easier, and Arthur's home was closer to Matthew's job.

On his 21st birthday, he got a cake from Arthur, and Arthur bought him a bottle of. maple whiskey. Matthew really liked that, compared to alcohol he'd had in the past. Matthew was a little more than buzzed, like Arthur, when they both sat down to watch a movie. Matthew ended up passing out (no doubt because of six shots of hard liquor), and Arthur ended up helping him into his bed, until he was stopped, with a small voice mumbling, "stay."

So he did. He stayed. He curled up in bed with him, falling asleep soundly. When he woke at dawn, however, he was faced with Matthew's soft violet eyes right in front of his emerald ones, lighting up with the rising sun highlighting each tone.

"You're not my dad." he mumbled quietly after a few moments.

Arthur paused and swallowed, wondering if this was a dream. "No.. I'm not."

"Then why is it wrong to be with you?" he asked in a softer voice.

Arthur hesitated for a long time. "It.. isn't."

There was an unbearably long pause, and then it hit Matthew. Arthur was there, amd always would be. So he leaned forward, and gently pressed his lips to the Englishman's, hesitating before shutting his eyes.

Arthur saw this day, so many years ago, and never did anything but care for him and be there when he was needed... and he still got here. Matthew's lips were soft and gentle, Arthur dared to venture farther, pressing forward slightly, and sucking on his bottom lip.

It took a moment for them to stop and look eachother in the eyes, and thats when Matthew realised that he had what he wanted all along. And Arthur realised that all this waiting... was really worth it in the end.

Arthur ended up leaving the bed and making breakfast- pancakes, of course, and leaving some out for Matthew before he left for work.

He didn't come home after work right away. He went to a bar with some buddies. He drank a few pints, and once he was buzzed enough, he started asking questions about the morality of his situation. Was it okay to bone your ex-stepson who is half your age?

"I kissed him, John. I kissed him on the lips," he admitted, head in his hands. All the boys at the pub laughed and told him to shake it off.

"There's no relation, mate, no worries."

Arthur returned home, only slightly inebriated at this point, to a confused Matthew. Arthur went and passed out on his own bed. Matthew couldn't get him up. But, at 4:12 AM, he got himself up, and went to visit his roommate. He poked Matt a few times to wake him. "Okay. I love you, Matthew. Now, just... tell me back."

That wasn't hard at all, even if Matthew was half asleep. "Arthur... I love you too.. I always have.." he mumbled, stretched a little bit, and moved his arms up to pull his ex-step father down for a gentle kiss.