A/N: This chapter took me way too long. I hope you guys haven't already forgotten about this fanfic… I changed a few things in the last chapters. However, that's not really relevant for the story etc. It were just some things that annoyed me. Reviews or whatever are always welcome~ I'll try my best to get the next chapter out a bit faster.


"Oh hockey pucks..." Matthew cursed under his breath as he stood before the gate of the rose park. He had forgotten to take the umbrella with him in his excitement of meeting Francis again. He checked the time on his phone. It was almost 5 pm. He couldn't go back to get it now. It would take half an hour to go from rose park to his house and back. Francis could arrive at any moment now. He sighed and leaned against the fence.

"Bonjour mon chéri." The smiling Frenchman said as he appeared before Matthew. "How are you today?"

Matthew jumped up slightly. He had been standing there with his eyes closed for a few minutes and hadn't expected Francis to suddenly appear before him.

"I'm fine, and you?" Matthew sighed. He felt so nervous yet so calm at the same moment. Nervous because he didn't want to screw this up. Calm because, well, he didn't knew why he felt calm. Maybe it was because the park had this relaxing atmosphere, or the gentle weather? Or maybe Francis' presence...

"I'm very happy, especially now I see you again." Francis winked at him and placed a kiss on his hand, just like he did when they first met. Matthew blushed a bit. Had Francis really felt it necessary to do that? Then the Frenchman smiled.

"Shall we take a walk through the park?" Matthew nodded but when he wanted to go he felt a big hand on his shoulder, making it impossible for him to walk away. He looked at Francis, who looked past him with a frown on his face. Then he was turned around by the hands of the stranger and locked into a big hug.

"Matvey! It's been such a long time. How are you?" Matthew's eyes widened. The accent of the man. He couldn't really see him since he was almost being crushed... but, was this Ivan? He pushed himself away to look at the other. He was right. It was Ivan. He hugged him again. The man strongly smelled like vodka. What was he doing here? Five years ago Ivan had moved back to Russia. He had been Matthew's best and only friend in middle school. Back then the Canadian even had a small crush on the strange Russian. He had confessed, but Ivan hadn't liked him back, not that way. They stayed good friends after that though, Ivan hadn't found it weird or creepy. Which Matthew was really grateful for. They still had contact over mail. So Matthew was really surprised that his childhood friend had come to the country, without telling him.

"Ivan, what are you doing here? I thought you lived in Moscow now." Matthew took a step back and looked at the other again. He had a rather big suitcase with him. He probably was on a holiday or something like that.

"I'm traveling the world. I lost something some months ago and now I'm searching for it." Ivan smiled at him. Matthew frowned. Did he even want to know what, or probably who… he lost? "And I noticed you standing here while I was searching for a place to sleep. What a coincidence, da?" Then the Russian turned to Francis. "Matvey, who's this?"

Matthew turned around and looked at Francis. Oh crap, Francis. He almost forgot that he was here with Francis. This probably wouldn't leave a good impression by the Frenchman. Surprisingly enough, the Frenchman looked like he didn't mind at all. He shook Ivan's hand and introduced himself.

"I am Francis Bonnefoy, it's a pleasure to meet you." Ivan nodded and also introduced himself. Then he looked at Matthew.

"Matvey, do you know a good but cheap hotel?" The Canadian thought for a bit. He didn't really know any of the hotels in his city. But he could let Ivan stay in his apartment. He didn't have a second bed, but he wouldn't mind sleeping on the floor. He had a camping mat so that wouldn't be a problem. His apartment might be a little small, but he was sure that if he would clean everything, it could fit.

"Uhm, if you want you can stay in my house for a while. I won't mind."

"That would be great!" Ivan smiled and looked at him. The Russian still had the same childish smile.

Matthew looked around a bit. He didn't know what to do. Ivan probably wouldn't leave anymore. He chewed on his bottom lip. It had become a habit that he picked up from his work in the bookstore. He could take both of them to his house. Maybe he could make some pancakes for them. It didn't sound like such a bad idea...

"Francis, I'm going to show Ivan where my house is. But you can also come, of course. I can make pancakes for all of us, or something like that. If you want that. I'm sorry, eh…" He looked at the Frenchman. If it bothered the man he certainly didn't show it.

"Non, I don't want interrupt your reuniting. However, I'll call you later. You still have my umbrella." He said the last with a playful wink. "Au revoir Matthieu, Ivan." Francis made a small movement with his hand that probably was some sort of goodbye wave.

"Eh, yeah. Goodbye." Matthew waved at the Frenchman and then turned around to face Ivan.

"It's just a half hour walk from here to my house, or would you like to take a cab?"

"Walking is fine." The Russian picked up his suitcase again and waited until Matthew started to walk. While they were walking they talked about all kind of things. It turned out that Ivan had met this Chinese man in Russia. The man, Ivan called him Yao-Yao but Matthew assumed that it was just Yao, was a merchant that travelled around the world to sell all kind of Chinese products. From what Matthew had heard it didn't really sound like a job that fits in the modern days, and he also wondered where Yao would get this 'inexhaustible' provision of Chinese stuff if he just travelled around without going back to China once a while. But Ivan didn't know about that and just said that Yao's business was going rather well because people found it amusing and kind of special. So the Chinese had stayed in Ivan's city for a while. And Ivan probably had started to get feelings for the man. Though he didn't exactly tell Matthew that. However, when Yao had left to go sell in the other cities, Ivan had started to follow him. And now he was standing here. In Canada. Because that was where Yao would have been last seen. Ivan hadn't told Matthew that he would be coming to Canada, simply because he hadn't known that he would go to the country. Matthew found it a rather weird idea that the Russian would go travel a world to search for someone. It seemed that Ivan had been running from country to country for over half a year now. He had asked why his friend hadn't just called the Chinese to talk to him, instead of stalking him and throwing money around. But Ivan said that he had lost the phone number. Matthew also wondered where Ivan got all that money from, but the Russian didn't want to tell that and avoided the subject. All in all, Matthew found it a bit of a hopeless project.

He sighed as he opened the door of his apartment. "It's still a bit of a mess, but I'll clean it up soon." He let Ivan go in first and after he closed the door he saw the Russian looking down at Kumajiro.

"So you still have that bear." Ivan tried to pet him but the small bear growled at him and he pulled back his hand. "He doesn't seem to like me very much." He said with a sad face.

"Don't worry, he just has to get used to your scent, hopefully." Matthew hung up his jacket and walked to his living room, with Ivan behind him. He pointed at his 'bed'. "You'll sleep on the couch, don't worry, it's actually a bed. I just have to unfold it." Ivan nodded.

"Okay, but where do you sleep?"

Matthew scratched the back of his head. "I'll sleep on the ground. I've got a camping mat so it's no problem."

"Ah, thank you for letting me stay here." Ivan smiled at him, and Matthew noticed that he really hadn't changed a bit.

~

Francis sighed as he handed the umpteenth hotdog to a lousy customer. He gave the man his change and watched him walk away. Then he leaned with his hand on the work table, but immediately pulled his arm away. He had placed his hand in a spot that was drenched with mustard and other food which he wasn't sure of what it exactly was. The Frenchman shook his head in disgust and washed his hands. Michelle probably had left that there. He really didn't understand why his boss ever had employed her. Probably because she was a student and thus rather cheap to hire. But still! She could at least clean up her workplace after she was done with her shift. It wasn't rare that Francis would stand on food. And it didn't amuse him, it even had ruined his shoes once. Michelle also could barely fry the fries well. The Frenchman didn't mind her though, she was a horrible colleague, but fun to talk with. And rather stubborn. He hummed a little song that he always had loved as child as he cleaned up the mustard.

He looked up at the clock. Just one hour and he would meet his friends at the bar. It had been a while since he had seen either Antonio or Gilbert. He smiled as he remembered the things they did when they were still teenagers. They had giving their parents quite some heart attacks, he was sure. He chuckled as he turned around to help another customer.