Ch. 4:

The next morning Alfred pushed Matthew off his bed, when the shocked Canadian tried to strangle him Alfred simply stated he wanted to go see the London Tooth.

"The London what," Matthew demanded, wondering what on earth his brother was talking about now.

"You know, the London Tooth. That wicked Ferris wheel," Alfred explained.

Matthew groaned as he ran a hand over his face, "It's called the London Eye, Alfred. And what does seeing that have to do with pushing me off the bed?"

Alfred smiled, "This is our first time waking up at this fancy hotel and I wanted to celebrate by giving you the old wakeup call we had as kids."

Ah, yes, that. Not too long after Matthew had joined the Jones family his disturbingly strong brother had decided pushing Matthew off his bed every morning would be a fun family tradition. He had stopped when they turned fifteen and Matthew could push back.

"Fine," he said when he realized Alfred was waiting for a yea or nay. "Let me get ready then we can go."

Alfred whooped with excitement and raced to his room to get ready.

Once both boys were ready they headed out, all the while Matthew tried to convince his brother that it was the London Eye, not the London tooth. But leave it to his brother to believe there was no difference.

But once they reached their destination even Matthew couldn't hold back a gasp of awe at the impressive sight. His brother pulled out his camera and started to take pictures, Matthew just smiling beside him.

As they walked toward the London Eye Matthew surveyed the crowd around them, looking at the families as they too took pictures and were waiting for a ride on the famous London sight. It was then he spotted a flash of blond hair.

Matthew stopped dead in his tracks and used his tall height to his advantage to look over the bystanders' heads, a smile spread across his face as he recognized a gorgeous head of hair.

"Hey, Mattie," Alfred's voice brought Matthew back to the present; his brother had stopped and was staring back at him. "Aren't you coming?"

"Oh, um," actually the London Eye was now the farthest thing from his mind. "I-I think I'll join you later." Then before his brother could protest he started slipping his way through the crowd, his eyes latched onto a beautiful Frenchman.

Francis looked up at the giant Ferris wheel, trying not to be too impressed.

Beside him Gilbert whistled and Antonio mimicked holding a camera and taking a picture of the sight.

"I wonder what would happen if that thing got loose and just started rolling," Gilbert mused aloud. Francis and Antonio looked at him with fear.

"I didn't say I was going to kick it and make it roll down the hill," Gilbert said with grudging annoyance. "I know I nearly broke that carnival Ferris wheel that one time but I was drunk and it was a long time ago."

Antonio shuddered and waved his hands, "Don't even mention that day."

"We agreed to never speak of it," Francis agreed, "Unless Toni and I can start bringing up that vixen that nearly dislocated your jaw."

Gilbert whirled around to fix Francis with a hard glare and the Frenchman smiled innocently, it had been years but Gilbert would never get over the day a young woman took him to the ground with one blow.

"What are we going to do after this," Antonio asked, rubbing his belly, "Please tell me the answer is eating."

Francis snorted, "In England? Please, I'd rather eat dog food from France then eat their "finest" cuisine."

"And there's the bitching," Gilbert huffed, "I thought you got over your hate for the Crown."

"I shall never get over that," Francis replied bluntly.

"Okay, rephrase, I thought you had a sexy conquest to get into…literally."

Francis cocked an eyebrow as Gilbert smiled at his own joke; bless him for he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. But he was right, without that little Canadian rose Francis was miserable.

Suddenly a familiar voice called his name; Francis jumped suddenly bracing himself to be tackled by a thick-browed maniac. But then he realized the voice wasn't British. A slow smile curved his lip as he turned to see who had called him; speak of the devil.

Matthew looked so out of place with his white hoodie that was adorned with a red maple leaf, but damn it all if he wasn't the cutest thing Francis had ever seen. The young man wore a small nervous smile, looking like he was waiting for permission to come any closer.

Francis flashed his most winning grin and he could tell the exact second Matthew's legs turned to jelly. "Mathieu, bonjour! I was just thinking about you, come here and meet my friends."

Matthew walked over and nodded to Gilbert and Antonio who surveyed him, "P-pleased to meet you."

"Igual que aquí," Antonio replied, taking Matthew's hands and shaking them, "That means 'same here' in case you didn't know. Francis was right you are really cute."

Matthew blushed and Francis hid his smirk, Antonio was, as always, his star wing man.

But glancing at Gilbert who only gave Matthew a nod, Francis noticed the albino was looking Matthew up and down like he was his next meal.

Catching Gilbert's eye Francis gave him a warning glare that clearly said 'I saw him first.' Gilbert only smiled and chuckled.

"Are you here to ride the London Eye," Matthew asked, turning to Francis.

"Yes, but I'd welcome a way out of it." Francis suddenly grasped Matthew's warm hands, the Canadian went even redder. "Want to come with me? There's something I want to show you."

"Oh-um…B-But what about your friends," Matthew stammered and Francis knew Matthew's mind had gone exactly where he wanted it to.

"You two don't mind if we don't go, do you," Francis asked.

Antonio smiled and gave a thumbs-up, "Of course not, you two kids have fun."

The Spaniard headed onward, Gilbert lagging behind. He winked at them, "But if you don't have fun, you know where we are."

Francis narrowed his eyes at his friend's retreating back; Gilbert could at least wait his turn.

"They seem nice," Matthew mused kindly.

"Nice," Francis echoed in disbelief before turning his attention back to Matthew with a sensual smile, "Shall we go?"

"Oh, sure," the boy still looked uncomfortable but didn't resist when Francis linked their arms together, "But I can't stay out too late, I kind of just ran away from my brother and if I stay out too late he'll start freaking out."

"Why did you run away from him," Francis asked with his head tilted, asking questions was a good way to warm them up, and to find useful information about your conquest.

"W-well I…" Matthew kept his eyes on the ground, "I saw you… and I just….yeah."

Francis smiled, "Consider me flattered." Perhaps this conquest would be a little too easy.

Matthew's eyes lit up like violet stars as he saw Francis's 'surprise', though Francis hoped he was just a little disappointed it wasn't what he had thought it was.

"An ice skating rink," Matthew breathed, looking at the building with rapture, "How'd you find it?"

"Well I just kind of stumbled upon it after I ran into you yesterday," Francis explained, "I thought it might remind you of your homeland." And by Matthew's expression Francis's guess was right on the money.

"It does," Matthew breathed, "I haven't seen an ice skating rink since…" Matthew stopped, swallowing and Francis wondered what he was about to say.

"Can we go in," he asked and Francis chuckled, he really was adorable.

"I didn't bring you here just to look at it."

Looking like an excited child Matthew took Francis's hand and all but ran into the building. Francis did not realize that Matthew had expected him to skate as well.

"I'd rather not," Francis said as Matthew stood on the ice, balancing perfectly like it hadn't been years since he skated.

"Why not," Matthew asked, smiling in a teasing way, he was a completely different person on the ice it would seem.

"Because I don't like it when gravity turns against me," Francis replied, eyeing the ice warily, "And something tells me standing on slippery ice will not help that problem."

Matthew laughed, "Please try it, just for a little bit." His eyes twinkled and Francis suddenly found himself caving.

Well, people are more likely to sleep with you if you do what they say, he mused to himself as he pulled the unflattering skates on.

He held onto the railing for balance, still not willing to step onto the ice, meanwhile Matthew had started doing spins and figure eights while Francis had gotten ready. For a moment the Frenchman wondered if the little Canadian was mocking him.

Matthew skated back to Francis and extended his hand, "It's no fun over there."

Francis took the boy's hand and allowed himself to be pulled onto the ice, immediately he starting sliding and slipping. "Not fun, not fun," Francis repeated over and over, his face would've hit the ice if Matthew hadn't caught him.

Great, just great, he brought the Canadian here to warm him up and he was going to spend his time looking like a complete ass.

"Are you okay," Matthew asked, looking genuinely worried.

Francis smiled reassuringly even though he didn't feel okay, "I'm fine, but I told you I'm not good at it."

Matthew smiled as he helped Francis stand up, "You just need to practice that's all, when I was little I slipped and fell so many times I lost count."

Francis laughed lightly, "I bet you were the cutest little kid." He could imagine a shy, quiet little boy who never let his mother's hand go.

Matthew blushed and grinned, "Thanks, I'm sure you were too, a cute kid that is."

"Oh no," Francis replied as he tried to take a step in these hazardous shoes, "I was an absolute spoiled rich kid, a total brat."

Matthew laughed, looking even more at ease, "I'm sure you weren't that bad."

"If you go and say that to my grandmother I am pretty positive she'd slap you," Francis said, smirking. But he realized Matthew was giving him a sad look.

"What's wrong," Francis asked, stopping.

He asked quietly, "Why were you raised by your grandmother? What about your parents?"

"Oh, they were too busy," Francis replied easily, "They owned the finest restaurant in Paris I'll have you know. I only got to see them in the morning and late at night."

Some may say it was a sad childhood but Francis hadn't really mind, his grandmother was the one who taught him how to wiggle his way into a lady's heart. How to get into her bed Francis had to find out on his own.

"Oh," Matthew said quietly, "I see." He still looked depressed.

Not liking how this was going Francis opened his mouth to speak, but then gravity decided to try and push him down and with a yelp he wrapped his arms around Matthew's neck before he fell.

"Sorry," Francis apologized, and then realizing he was pressed against Matthew who had his hands on his waist he decided…maybe he wasn't so sorry.

"Its fine," Matthew smiled tightly, his face was flushed from having Francis so close their noses nearly touched, but the Frenchman could still detect a hint of sadness in Matthew's eyes.

He cocked his head to the side, "Did I do something wrong?"

Matthew blinked, "Hmm?"

Francis made it back onto his feet but keep his arms around Matthew's neck, the boy was so tall, "It's just, you suddenly looked so sad when I mention my grandmother."

"Oh. I-I'm sorry, it's nothing, I'm fine." The boy smiled but it still seemed forced,

Francis went to pressure him to tell him the truth when he recalled the last time he had allowed a fling to get deep. And he had nearly had his eyes scratched out. Oh no, I will be having none of that again, thank you.

The two spent what seemed an hour skating, well, Matthew skated, Francis just tried not to fall any more than was necessary, and sadly…he fell a lot.

It got to where he was in a bad mood because he knew someone who made an ass of himself this much was not getting exactly that anytime soon.

"Can we stop yet," Francis all but begged. He was hugging the railing and breathing hard while Matthew still skated around like he had never been off the ice.

"But you've already gotten so much better," Matthew assured, coming to stop by him. Just then an eight year old skated past and waved at Francis, "Hi Mr. Clumsy guy."

Francis waited until she had skated away before looking at Matthew, "No, I haven't."

"Just one more song," Matthew urged, clasping his hands together and looking at him with big violet eyes.

Francis smiled tiredly, reminding himself why he was doing this, "Okay, one more song."

The ice skating rink had been playing music all day, but most of it was fast-paced pop songs, not necessarily bad, but it wasn't Francis's style. However, to his surprise, the next song to play was a slow song. He watched with rising interest as the younger kids skated off the ice, while the teenagers and adults paired off.

He turned back to Matthew to see the boy was also watching the skating couples, a faint flush to his cheeks and a twinkle in his eye.

An idea struck Francis and he smiled. Clearing his throat to get the Canadian's attention he slowly extended his hand, "Mathieu, may I have this dance?"

The boy's cheeks flushed scarlet and a small smile curved his lip, "A-Are you sure? You might fall."

"Then I'll have you to catch me," Francis winked.

Matthew chuckled and took Francis's hand, their fingers intertwined and Matthew pulled Francis to his side. Remembering he couldn't stand on ice, let alone dance, Francis wrapped his arm tightly around Matthew's waist. Matthew brought his own hand to Francis's hip, his face red and looking like he expected Francis to pull away, the Frenchman gave Matthew's waist a tight squeeze. Smiling he spoke, "Don't look so terrified, I won't bite."

Matthew chuckled nervously, "Sorry." He started skating as smooth as possible when he was pretty much dragging Francis. "It's just… I've never danced with anyone."

"What, never," Francis looked at him with surprise. When he shook his head Francis prompted, "Not even on an actual dance floor?"

"Never," Matthew replied, looking away in embarrassment, "No one's ever wanted to dance with me before."

"Clearly they were either blind or had terrible taste," Francis replied, genuinely surprised that no one had ever showed this adorable Canadian interest before.

Matthew smiled sweetly, "Thanks, but its okay I'm used to it."

"It would certainly explain you're adorable shyness," Francis remarked with a half-grin.

Matthew turned his eyes to his feet but Francis could see that his happy little smile was still in place, he was warming himself up to the Canadian.

As the slow song drew to a close Francis had an idea, "Spin me, Mathieu."

The boy blinked at him, "Huh?"

"Spin me," Francis repeated, "I can handle it."

Matthew shrugged his eyes doubtful, "If you say so."

He pushed Francis away to twirl him under his arm, and for just a moment Francis was actually skating, but then his left foot lost balance, and with Matthew still holding his hand they both fell to the ice in a yelping tangle of arms and legs.

"I'm so sorry, Francis, are you okay," Matthew asked in panicked concern, looking down at Francis.

The Frenchman blinked; slightly dizzy from the fall, then noticing Matthew's face and the position they were in he burst out laughing.

The Canadian looked at him with surprised concern, "W-what's so funny?"

"Nothing it's just-" Francis rubbed Matthew's legs with his own, reminding the boy they were tangled together, "If I must fall this is the way to do it."

Matthew blushed, "Y-yeah…I guess so."

Francis continued to laugh and after a moment Matthew joined him, lying on his back and laughing up at the ceiling. Francis couldn't help but think of how nice Matthew's laugh was.

They finally pulled themselves together when a skater came over to ask them if they were okay.

"I guess we better go now," Matthew decided, making it look easy as he got back onto his feet. Francis however, was not even willing to try at this point.

"Need some help," Matthew asked, a teasing smile playing on his lips, he had really nice lips.

Francis held his hand up to him, "Yes please."

Matthew hauled Francis to his feet, but instead of letting Francis walk off the ice he lifted the Frenchman onto his back. Francis blinked in surprise, shocked by how strong the quiet boy was, he wrapped his arms around Matthew's neck and chuckled, "What's this for?"

"Can't have you falling down again," Matthew said still skating easily with Francis's on his back. "I already feel bad how many times you got hurt because of me."

"This skating rink was my idea," Francis reminded him, "Besides-" he nuzzled Matthew's neck, "You're worth it." He grinned when Matthew shuddered.

But all too quickly they reached the end of the rink and Matthew placed him down. Francis was grateful to get those God awful skates off his shoes and be able to walk without the fear of falling.

"Thank you," Matthew said as they left the rink, he was smiling warmly, his eyes sparkling like diamonds, "I really appreciate it, I haven't had this much fun since…well, for a long time."

Francis grinned at him, "You're most welcome, Mathieu, I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. However I can't but feel a favor is in order."

"Oh," Matthew asked, stopping and looking slightly worried, "What kind of favor?"

Francis waited for a delicious second before answering, "A dinner favor of course. Would you care to join me for dinner tonight?"

"Oh, oh sure," Matthew smiled, "Where are we going?"

Francis sighed, "I can't say, I'd like to take you to a place with good food, but we're in London…"

"Well…I can cook," Matthew said, "How about you come to the hotel I'm staying at? You can meet my brother and I can cook you something nice."

Francis placed his hand over his heart, "You'd do that for me?"

"Of course," Matthew replied immediately, then as if that was a weird thing to say he quickly added, "I m-mean, you've been so nice to me. It's the least I could do."

Francis squeezed Matthew's shoulder, "You're so sweet, I thought I'd starve during this trip." He trailed his fingers down Matthew's arm to his fingers were he laced them together. Matthew smiled, his face flushed.

"I-I should be getting back then," Matthew said, "There's so much to do, please come around eight." With obvious reluctance the Canadian pulled away and headed down the street, Francis waved bye.

"By the way," Francis called, making Matthew stop, "I did it."

Matthew furrowed his brow, "Did what?"

Francis grinned, "I made you laugh a real laugh."

The Canadian blushed then laughed again, "Yes, I guess you did."

It wasn't until Matthew was completely out of sight that Francis realized he probably would've gotten away with a kiss.