Characters/Pairing: Maple Tea, MatFred, little FrUK.
Chapter: 1/1
Word Count: 2568
Warnings: This is NOT a USUK Fic.
Summary: Matthew's been best friends with Alfred since first year. He's been in love with Arthur since second. However, the 'Sparks' have different ideas.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. I WISH I did...
Matthew remembers the first time he met Arthur.
The train bounced and rumbled along, causing the boy to squeak at every little bump. He wandered along the narrow passageway, sailing by compartments. He still hadn't found a seat.
Behind enclosed doors, he could see people laughing and cheering. It made his heart clench, knowing they most likely couldn't even see him. How he longed to sit with friends of his own, to fit in, to not have to raise his voice to be noticed. The seats looked so soft, and warm, yet he had nowhere to go.
He approached the last door, peering in timidly. There sat an upperclassman, although which year, he couldn't tell. The older boy's attention was twined around the book in his hand, his large eyebrows furrowed together in an emotion Matthew assumed was frustration.
He slid the door open gingerly, stepping inside in one graceful movement. The other boy's head snapped up, a glare ready on his face. "Alfred, I-" He stopped short, his expression changing. "Oh. Hullo there, lad."
Matthew shuffled his feet, looking at the ground then off to the side. "Don't just stand there, git. Sit down!" He obliged, rushing to the booth across from the stranger. He sighed as his sore feet finally got some relief.
He opened one eye, taking in the Brit's appearance. The other also seemed to be studying him.
"... Aren't you going to introduce yourself, or are you going to stare at me the entire ride?" Matthew asked with dry humour. Arthur pierced him with his eyes. "Arthur Kirkland. Third year, Ravenclaw House."
He looks like a Ravenclaw, he had noted. Glasses perched low on his nose, a book in one hand and presumably a cup of tea in the other. The sweater vest he was wearing hugged his figure flatteringly, showing he was slender, yet still had muscle.
"My name is Matthew Williams. I'm a first year - Well, I'm going to be a first year." Arthur had chuckled at this, and returned to his book. The boy bared the silence, overjoyed with the flickering glances his new friend gave him.
When that hat had called out "Gryffindor!" Matthew had been convinced his ears had deceived him. Quiet, 'shy' Matthew, was suddenly thrust into the supposed 'Bravest' House at Hogwarts. Oh, how proud his Maman would be if she could see him now.
He flew towards the table, almost tumbling in the process, overwhelmed with the pats on the back, the handshakes, and the greetings he received. To say the least, he greatly enjoyed his fifteen minutes of fame.
Unexpectedly, many were still talking to him after the sorting and during the banquet. The Spaniard, who was a fifth year, across from him was was particularly amusing. He repeatedly turned around to the Hufflepuff table to tap an Italian on the shoulder, then hurriedly turn back, grinning.
Him, and the Scottish sixth year on the Canadian's side kept Matthew occupied. Who knew there where so many different types of smoking material?
"Ew," Antonio suddenly said, wrinkling his nose. Matt ceased his laughter. "What is it?" He asked, curious. He pointed an accusing finger at a boy a little ways down their table. "That boy! Most of his food is ending up on the table, and not his mouth!"
Clyde snorted, brushing back his long red bangs. "Like you weren't just doing that a minute ago." Antonio waved his arm dismissively. "That doesn't count," He said impatiently. "He's probably American!" Matthew stared him down. "So what?"
"It's so stereotypical!" "And we aren't?" Clyde asked, grinning. He gestured to his red hair, the trademark of his ethic background. "Clyde knows all," Matthew murmured, shaking his head and smiling gently. He stole a glance back at the boy, and thought about what Toni had said.
He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, though they couldn't go any farther up. He fiddled with his fingers, hoping he wouldn't lose the courage he had just gathered up before he truly accessed it.
"I... I'm going to go talk to him." He finally said. Antonio looked at him as if he were insane. Clyde just laughed and slapped him roughly on the back.
"Good luck, mi amigo!" "What he said!" Matthew huffed, indignant about them forcing themselves into the attention of the Whole Grand Hall. Of course, he did like it when he got attention. But this much of it was scary.
He actually did stumble this time as he made his way towards that boy. His face flushed an even deeper tone of red.
He finally forced himself into the seat next to the 'American'. "H-Hallo..." He breathed out. The blond turned to him, and a sparkle appeared in his eyes. 'Oh, crap...' Was Matthew's last thought as the other stuck his hand out and said, "Alfred F. Jones!" All to cheerily.
The leaves turned brown, once again, and Matthew was going back to Hogwarts, once again.
He walked into a compartment and propped his feet up onto Ivan's lap. Ivan became of of Matthew's best Friends last year, after Alfred and he had pulled a prank on a group of Slytherins. Needless to say, the prank went Horribly wrong, and Ivan ended up saving both of their Arse's.
A few others joined them. Toris, a small Hufflepuff, walked shyly into their area, sitting on Matthew's side and avoiding eye contact with Ivan. "H-Hello, you two!"
He frowned. Matt knew that Toris and Ivan lived close to eachother. Last year, they had been best friends, just as close, maybe even closer, as Al and himself. A few even thought they were dating ("W-Which is absurd!" Toris would blush). What ever had happened, he didn't think he wanted to know...
The last one to join their compartment was Arthur. Matthew had seen him in the corridors a few times last year, but he hadn't spoken to him at all since that first time. Arthur looked just as shocked to see him there as the other was. Blushing, for some unknown reason, Matthew waved shyly.
And when Arthur waved back, smirking, and his heart beat just a little bit faster, he leaned back into the seat, going as far back as he could go.
When they boarded off the train, Arthur approached him wordlessly. They walked to the Castle like this, in silence, never leaving the other's side.
"I don't like you hanging out with him," Alfred grumbled from Matthew's bed. "Tough luck." He said simply, holding up his freshly cleaned sweatshirt. "If things go my way, we'll be doing more than 'Hanging out'." Alfred gave him a kicked puppy look.
"Not going to work, Al."
"Dammit."
The first time Arthur takes Matthew out on a date, the boy is on cloud nine. Arthur has achieved sixth year, and Matthew has finally reached Fourth. Arthur is also the seeker for his Quidditch team, and pulls some strings so they can have the whole pitch to themselves.
Yes, it's cheesy and cliche, but Matthew loves it.
Arthur, thankfully, decided not to cook for this. And yeah, when he presents Matthew with a beautiful cloak, so warm and soft, and perfect for him, the Canadian thinks he might be in love.
And yet... When their lips finally meet, Matthew is left with something to be desired.
"I can't believe it! You were dating him, and you didn't even tell me? I thought we were friends, Mattie!" Alfred yells at him.
Matthew's managed to steer Arthur and his own relationship away from Alfred for a year now, although he doesn't know why. Like Alfred said, they're friends. Best Friends. Why wouldn't Matt tell him? Why wouldn't he want to?
When Alfred pushes him up against the wall, Matthew is a little afraid, and his back hurts a little bit. But the silent sobs shaking Alfred's shoulders are far more scary and painful. "A-Al...?" He whispers. The American looks up, cheeks wet and eyes glistening.
"I like you, Matthew!"
And then Alfred's lips are upon his own, and there it is, that spark... But with the wrong person.
Then he's pushing Al away, far far away, far far too soon.
"I-..." Matthew covers his mouth in horror. And then he's running...
Far Far away...
It's the next date with Arthur that makes him break.
He bursts into the dormitory, conveniently empty besides the one he wants, the one he needs; Alfred.
Before he knows it, their teeth are clashing and glasses clinking together. Alfred rips off Matthew's shirt, the buttons flying, and he in turn rushes to pull the American's jeans off.
There'll be talk in the morning, but all Matthew can think about is how much he loves Alfred and never noticed. Actually, maybe he knew all along.
He takes Alfred's fingers into his mouth and sucks on them, covering them with saliva until they're perfect. His lover is a little awkward with him, going too soft at times and too hard at others with his fingers, but Matthew loves it all and cries in pleasure when his sweet spot, that little bundle of nerves, is hit.
He's about to tell Alfred that he'll come too soon, but, almost as if they're in tune with eachother, the other silently nods and withdraws his fingers.
He's about to use his hand to spread his precum around, but Matthew grabs it and does it for him, giving him smooth, long strokes, until Alfred is panting and his full length is covered with the makeshift lubrication.
He gently places the tip at Matthew's entrance, swooping down to capture his lips again, so as to distract him from the pain. He cries out against the kiss, squeezing his eyes shut, but a few beads of tears leak out of the corner, and Alfred kisses those away, too.
It's a still a bit awkward, like the preparation, but it's so full of love that Matthew wants to burst. He feels everything Alfred had been holding back, and he himself looses all restraint.
Al comes before he does, but the feeling of having him come inside him finally makes it too hard to bare, and while Alfred came with a grunt, Matthew let's out something a bit more like a scream, mixed with Alfred's name.
Alfred slowly slides out, and crawls over to cuddle Matthew. "... I love you, Matt." He whispers. He moved a slick piece of hair out of his lover's eyes. "... I think I love you, too."
"It was bound to happen sometime..." "Faggot!" "You owe me fifteen bucks," Was all Matthew heard as he slunk down the hall, staring shamefully at his feet.
He should have expected to bump into someone.
However, he was not expecting it to be Arthur.
He took one look at the other and dropped all his books, darting for the nearest exit.
It was times like these that Matthew would sulk in the Girls' Lavatory, on the Second floor. The only one there was Moaning Murtle, after all, and no one bothered him.
But he didn't cry this time. He didn't deserve to cry, when this was all this fault. So he thought. And Thought. And Thought.
He didn't know how long he sat there, but the only time his silence was disrupted was when Murtle herself came floating slowly out of the wall.
"Are you feeling sorry for yourself?" She asked. "What do you know?" He snapped. "Everything." She stated simply. She sat beside him. "You shouldn't, you know. It's your own fault." "... I know." "What are you going to do now?" "... What?" Matthew asked. "And people say you're smart," She said impatiently.
"You can't keep leading them on forever. It's one, or none."
Matthew didn't take his eyes off the floor. A few tears dropped down, splashing silently onto the wooden floor.
"... I understand." Came the whisper. It was full of sorrow and regret, but he truly meant it.
Matthew's head snapped up, his eyes wide. He had expected yelling. Cussing. But not a quiet good-bye. No, definitely not. The other smiled sadly.
"You love him."
Matthew looked away shyly, then look back up. "I loved you, too, you know. I still do. But..." "You can't have both of us." He nodded. "Exactly."
The boy cupped his face to bring him in for one last kiss, and then they both departed.
"Aliyah, you get your arse back here!" Matthew yelled after his daughter. Said daughter had darted away through the crowd of steam and smoke. He sighed, knowing it was a lost cause.
How such a high-strung girl had ended up in Ravenclaw, he'll never know.
The same went for Aliyah's rather immature twin, Alice, who was also in Ravenclaw; They both belonged in either Slytherin, or Gryffindor.
Matthew's husband came forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Jeez, Mattie, you shouldn't worry so much."
He rolled his eyes. "I can't help it, Al. They're already fourth years; Can you believe it?" "Hell no!" Alfred chuckled. "No matter how cliche this line is, it's seems like we were changing their diapers just days ago..."
Matthew sighed contently, leaning against the love of his life. He paled considerably when he saw a sight he wished he didn't; Aliyah making out with her... Girlfriend.
"Oh, God!" He exclaimed, covering Alice's eyes. She whacked it away. "Dad, she does that all the time. Get used to it." And then stalked away to do God Only Knows What.
"... Did you know?" Alfred looked away. "... You knew and you didn't tell me?" There was fire in his eyes. "M-Maybe..." "You're in for a world of pain when we get home, Alfred Jones."
As they were about to leave, they saw Arthur ushering a boy that looked remarkably like himself, but the eyes were bright blue; Matthew choked on his tongue and Alfred burst out laughing when Francis hugged Arthur from behind and waved the boy goodbye.
Matthew waved at him, grinning. After a pause, Arthur waved back.
And that's the end! Sorry to those who Expected permanent Maple Tea~
Oh, and that little boy who's England and France's child? That's Sealand~ XD
Ciao!