"Dude, who are you again?"

"I give up."

"Hey wait!" But it was too late. The little French-Canadian was already gone. Alfred groaned, covering his face with one hand. He'd done it again, hadn't he? One of the few times he got to see Mattie and Alfred had blown his chances with him once again. How many times did he have to screw up before Matthew stopped talking to him at all? The American boy had a queasy sinking feeling. This could have been the last straw.

"Why?" Alfred mused aloud, flopping onto his couch. "Why can't I just tell him?" Tony didn't give him an answer. He really didn't need to. The blonde knew exactly why he never said anything about his feelings for the Canadian. He was scared.

Mattie and Alfred had grown up side by side. Even if they weren't very close, Alfred had still noticed the other boy, even when the adults had overlooked him. His slight, shy companion never seemed to get angry or annoyed, so the brighter blonde often pushed his buttons, just to see if Alfred could make him snap. But Mattie never yelled or hit back. Well, almost never anyways.

Why did he do it? Probably because Mattie was just so . . . so wimpy! Because they looked so alike, he'd often get beat up for something Alfred had done. But Mattie just stood there and took the abuse. They had the same blue eyes, behind the same kind of glasses, nearly the same height and build, thought Mattie was shorter and thinner. Hell, both of them were blonde!

Arthur would say this was simply a narcissistic way of having a crush on himself, but Alfred didn't see it that way. He loved wimpy, pathetic, invisible Mattie, kind of because he was so useless. Sure Matthew got on fine by himself, but he was so utterly spineless. There was only one time when they were younger that Alfred had pushed him too far and it had ended rather badly. Matthew had apologized for weeks but it had taken longer for Alfred to recover, both from the shock and what he'd been told. How many things did Mattie hate about him?

"Who're you?"

Alfred jumped, pulled out of his thoughts by the unfamiliar voice. Next to him on the couch was Tony. But on the far side of the grey alien was a small, white, dopey looking polar bear Didn't that bear belong to Mattie?

"Kumajiro?"

The bear turned, "No that's my name. Who're you?"

Alfred smiled. He'd heard the little bear say that to Matthew all the time. Obviously, Mattie had forgotten him here when he'd left. How upset had he been to have left Kumajiro behind like this? Probably more so than usual. On a sudden impulse, Alfred got up and picked up the polar bear. Running out the door, he called to Tony, "I'll be back later!"

It didn't take long to get to the Williams house. Alfred stood on the bottom step and held the bear close for a moment, tucking his face into its fur like he'd seen Mattie do so many times when he thought no one was watching him. Kumajiro, he noticed, smelled like spearmint and pine trees. He smelled like Matthew, Alfred thought to himself, how odd. Getting over his sudden shyness, he reached up to the door and knocked. Minutes passed.

Long minutes.

The door finally opened. Mattie stuck his head out, "Alfred? How did you find my home?"

"I've always known where your house is, Dude. You don't live that far away from me you know."

"Sure I knew that. But you rarely come to visit me and you always have trouble with maps, and I kind of thought you hated me so I figured you wouldn't ever come to visit me. Aw, who am I kidding anyways?" Mattie trailed off into his usual mindless mumblings. It was another trait of his that made him so cute Alfred wanted to grab him and hold him tightly. Instead, he proffered Kumajiro.

"Dude, you left Kumajiro at my place."

"Oh! Stupid me, thinking you were coming to see me." Mattie took the bear and set him on the floor just inside the doorway where he promptly waddled off. "Thanks, Alfred." Alfred couldn't take this anymore. If he could face down Ivan, he could at least confess to his best friend!

Matthew Williams, part time student and full time wuss, didn't know how to react when his childhood friend suddenly jumped up the last few steps to the door and kissed him. Instead, he went limp and they crashed down, lips locked, onto the welcome mat. After a moment or two, maybe from shock or real affection, Mattie started to kiss back, but was back to full confusion when Alfred pulled away for air.

"What? Wh-what was that for?"

Alfred was bright red as he straddled the thin French boy. "Because I wanted to." He said, low and needy, "Because I want you." He added leaning down to catch those maple flavored lips again. Their kiss was hot and strong, melting the fear out of Mattie. Somehow, this felt quite nice, having his best friend on top of him, their mouths pressed together. When they finally broke apart again, both of their glasses were skewed and their clothes were tousled. Alfred thought this was a rather enticing look for the shy boy. Matthew started to get his breath back in him before he asked, "But *pant* why? I thought *pant* you didn't *pant* like me?"

The brighter blonde leaned in, licking and nipping at Mattie's neck. "Just the opposite, Bro." He whispered hotly against Mattie's neck, making his breath hitch in his throat, "I like you far too much."

"Ah! Ha-ah! Alfred!" Mattie panted; flushing several different shades of red as Alfred gently bit his collarbone. "You never, ahmm, looked at me, mMmm, before." He managed to squeak out when Alfred found a vein and began to suck on it. His shaking hands went up and tangled into the American male's hair as if he was hanging on for dear life. And with the way Alfred was going, he might as well have been. Al grinned and pulled himself level with Mattie again, capturing his mouth again.

"Don't worry, Matt. From now on, I won't look at anyone else."