Thanks so much to everyone following this story! You guys are amazing. And thanks for the kind reviews! I'm glad everyone approves of Alfred. He's actually starting to steal the show it seems... But its okay, 'cause its Alfred. Thats how he rolls. XD
Btw, a little Francis/Alfred? -evil grin- I'll think about it. Don't hold me to it though.
Warnings: previous warnings apply
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership.
"Aw, c'mon Mattie. Don't be like that." Alfred wheedled from where he was perched on Matthew's kitchen counter, heels idly smacking against the dark wood of the cabinets. "You needed it."
"Fuck you, Alfred." Matthew snapped moodily, taking a vicious sip of his Iced Capp every so often.
"It was for the best, bro." The other blond scolded, reaching into the box of Timbits and pulling out a handful. "You're one hairy mofo."
"Alfred—" Matthew scowled, shuddering in memory of the way the matronly beautician yanked each strip of wax off his chest.
"But I guess you have to keep warm somehow since its always winter here." The superpower shrugged, shoving the bite-sized treats into his mouth.
"Its not always winter." Matthew snapped, before muttering under his breath, "And I'm surprised you even feel cold with all that extra blubber around your middle."
"It's muscle!" Alfred exclaimed, bits of half-chewed donut spewing onto the once spotless tile.
"Your ass disagrees." The northern nation countered earning a gasp from his brother.
"You wanna talk about asses?" Alfred shot back. "Fine! You've got some junk in your trunk, baby brother."
"I play hockey! Have you even seen Sidney Crosby's ass? All hockey players have the same problem—"
"Oh, sure." Alfred snorted. "Its all hockey's fault. Its not at all because you eat poutine before bed—"
"One time, Alfred, and Alexandre wouldn't stop sobbing. Remember that time Louise made all that gumbo and you were pissing fire for weeks? We all do things we regret for our states and provinces—"
"Like the time you did that naughty Mountie calendar—"
"We agreed to never talk about that." Matthew said darkly. "Or I will tell Anthony who his real daddy—"
"Okay, okay." Alfred laughed awkwardly. "We'll go back to talking about your fertile prairies. When was the last time you waxed? You were like a fucking lumber jack, Matt."
"I can't believe I let you talk me into it!" Matthew wailed, gripping his hair and leaning forward onto the table.
"There, there, Mattie." Alfred cooed, slipping off the counter and walking behind Matthew, pulling the other nation flush against him and adjusting his head so that it was tucked into the crook of his neck. Then he proceeded to pet the other's hair comfortingly. "It still looks natural and I bet Arthur would really like it."
"…You think so?" Matthew asked quietly after a beat of silence.
"Hells yeah! I mean, body hair can be such a turn off."
"…Cosmo?"
"Never led me wrong before." A beat of silence, then, "Want to plan Phase 'Come hither' of Operation Daddy!Kink now?"
"…"
"…C'mon, broski, you could work on your Sexy Face technique."
"Alfred. I'm part French. I think I'm fine." Matthew said flatly.
Alfred rolled his eyes. "Matt, Matt, Mattie, Matt." He chided, before continuing in his annoying 'smarter than you' voice. "Arthur doesn't want to do the nasty with you because you're half French and are inherently capable of doing all that shameless, kinky shit. If that was the case, he'd already be balls-deep in the your St. Lawrence River."
Matthew resisted the urge to deck his brother.
"No. He wants you because you're you. But because you're you, he doesn't want to give into his incest-tastic fantasies. You can work him over with that French pansy-ass softcore crap all you want, but you won't succeed. You've gotta seduce him with that true Canadian spirit of yours. First, you've got to somehow convince him that you're not his baby anymore. Then, you've got to make him admit that he wants you. And then…" Alfred snickered conspiratorially, suddenly breaking from the frighteningly shrewd voice he had been using. "…then, baby bro, you'd better make sure you have a lot of lube."
"Calme-toi, mon lapin." Francis said boredly, flipping through Parisian newspaper.
Arthur merely snorted, continuing to twirl the plastic knife he had gotten with his airline dinner as he warily watched the other nation. "I wouldn't trust you as far as I could throw you, frog."
"So…four metres?" The blond asked blithely.
Arthur glared at him darkly, jade eyes sharp under furry eyebrows. "Ha ha." He scowled.
"I am not going to do anything to you." Francis huffed, putting down the paper and glaring back at the island nation. "You have my word as a gentleman."
Arthur snorted indelicately. "You're up to something, wanker."
"This is hardly the first time I've abducted you."
"No. But this is the first time you've allowed me to keep my trousers."
Francis smirked. "Would you prefer to not have that luxury?" He raised his hand, wiggling his fingers teasingly towards the other's belt buckle. "I could—" He snatched back his hand as the plastic utensil swung forward and whooshed past, almost very nearly severing his pinky finger. "How uncouth." The Frenchman pouted. "You wound me, cher."
"Not yet."
"We're only going to visit Mathieu. You know, the cute one?"
Arthur stared hard at him, mouth set in a scowl. "Wh—"
But Francis was already digging into his man-purse. Finally, pulling out an envelope with a flourish, he announced, "Voila!"
Arthur raised an eyebrow as Francis shoved a picture of two grinning blonds in his face. "This one," here he pointed a neatly manicured nail at the blond with bright blue eyes, "is Alfred. He abandoned you for freedom, liberty and—"
"Fuck off."
"—and this one," Ignoring the angry Englishman as he usually did, the older nation pointed to the blond with a long curl bouncing in front of his face, "is Mathieu. He likes maple syrup, hockey, and going to the shooting range. You stole him from me and destroyed his taste buds."
"One." Arthur began irritably, snatching the envelope and ruffling through its contents—intent on finding and destroying any pornographic images the other might have of the two younger nations. "I did not steal him. You gave him up willingly enough. You're just jealous that he likes me more…" He trailed off, catching sight of the downright devious smirk on the other's face. "…What?"
Francis just chuckled, leaning back against his seat. "Pas de quoi." His lips were still twisted into that insufferable grin. "So, you won't confuse the poor boy for Alfred?"
"Of course not!"
"So you cleaned thoroughly right?" Alfred asked sternly, blue eyes sharp behind steel-rimmed glasses.
"Yes." Matthew sighed.
"And what do you do with his balls when your mouth is full of cock?"
The violet-eyed nation, ears scarlet red and clinging to Kumajirou, muttered something into the bear's soft fur.
"Didn't catch that, Mattie."
"Fondle them." Matthew hissed, lifting his equally red face for a brief second before burying it back into the white fur.
"Matt. I know this is embarrassing—"
"No shit!"
"—but I'm just trying to help." Alfred sighed.
"And I appreciate it, Al. Really." Matthew sighed. "But I don't understand why you won't let me put on some clothes. You know Arthur hates it when we dress slovenly or not at all."
Alfred quirked an eyebrow. "But we just woke up." He gestured to his Batman boxers. "Iggy should be happy I even bothered to put on anything. I sleep like Mother Nature intended—in the nude."
"…You know, there is some Francis underneath all that Arthur and Antonio." Matthew noted. "…But, no. I've been awake."
Alfred stared at him before launching across the room, forcibly dislodging Kumajirou from Matthew's lap as the superpower began to tousle Matthew's hair, ruffling the curling strands under his hands and between his fingers all while avoiding his brother's flailing arms.
The bear growled in annoyance, contemplating biting the obnoxious blond.
Before puling away, Alfred roughly pinched the soft skin of Matthew's neck a few times before dragging his nails down the other's smooth chest, eliciting a yelp and numerous curses from the nation. Then, grinning like a madman, Alfred said, "And now you look like you just rolled out of bed after a long night of doing the vertical tango."
"…Don't you mean horizontal?"
"You say affordable universal healthcare, I say socialism, Matt." Alfred said dismissively.
"Ah, hello!" Matthew said breathlessly after he threw open the door (he had just barely made it to the door after the doorbell after tripping Alfred). "Francis, Arthur. How was your flight?"
"Magnifique." Francis said lowly, azure eyes tracing over his former colony's pectorals and abs down to the sparse golden curls trailing teasingly into the waistband of his rose-print boxers. "Are those new boxers?" He asked distractedly.
Matthew blushed.
Arthur, on the other hand, was taking in the other's disheveled appearance and the barely-there pink splotches on the other's creamy skin.
"Sup?" Alfred said lazily, popping out from nowhere and draping himself across Matthew's shoulders. He scratched boredly at his own bare chest before glancing slyly at his brother. "Damn Mattie. He really did a number on you." The scripted words (that he never cleared with Matthew) flowing easily from his mouth.
Francis couldn't hold back and facepalmed when Arthur practically stiffened next to him.
Matthew looked mortified.
Alfred looked like he was a goddamn genius.
"My baby bro is such a baller." Alfred said proudly, ruffling his Matthew's hair before reaching down and soundly slapping the northern nation on the rear before whirling on his heel and disappearing into the house.
Matthew's mouth opened and shut wordlessly several times, bright indigo eyes flickering over to Francis.
Francis's heart keened for the young blond, truly. And he was about to step in and try to ameliorate the situation, when Arthur spoke.
"Matthew. Go clean yourself up." He said curtly. "I raised you better than this."
"Al…Al was just joking." Matthew said weakly. "We just woke up."
Arthur looked skeptical, but his expression softened minutely. "Regardless, go put on some proper clothes. Can't be running about in your skivvies all day."
"What? I was trying to make him jealous!" Alfred defended. "Cosmo says—"
"Fuck your Cosmo." Matthew hissed. Alfred looked scandalized.
"Matt—"
"That was the most half-assed plan—"
"I'll come up with something better."
"Please don't." Matthew growled before shoving Alfred out of his room.
"He was jealous, I know it." Francis whispered as he walked past Alfred. "Well-intended, chou, but poorly executed."
"Where are those two?" Arthur asked suddenly, looking up and not seeing Alfred or Francis nearby. "I don't trust them." He had a feeling those two were up to something but he couldn't quite place what exactly…
Matthew shrugged, leaning past Arthur and pulling a brightly decorated jar closer to him. His hand brushed against the other's arm.
Both men smiled shyly at each other at the contact.
"You bugged your own brother's house?" Francis asked incredulously.
"Safety precaution." Alfred replied distractedly. "Back when Mattie was being a little passive-aggressive shit about Vietnam and fucking Cuba. He knows I've been watching him. He humors me by keeping these cameras running. And its not like he doesn't have me bugged."
"You're brothers."
Alfred looked up from his laptop and gave the other a flat look. "I'd rather we mutually spy on each other than go to war with Mattie. He's kind of a douche when he wants to be. And he has a mean left hook."
"But still—"
"Hey, you can lecture me when you stop being European." Alfred said flippantly. "You guys go to war over such stupid things."
"Lines of succession and maintaining the balance of power is hardly stupid—"
Alfred rolled his eyes and made a 'blah blah blah' gesture with his hand. "I'm almost done hacking back into this if you're done."
Immediately, a view of each room popped onto the screen and both nations leaned forward in anticipation when they caught sight of Matthew and Arthur talking in the kitchen.
"Push him onto the counter and kiss him." Alfred urged, scooting closer to the scene as though the decreased distance would enable the figures on the screen to follow his command easier.
"It truly has been a while, hasn't it?" Arthur asked wistfully.
"You've been busy. We all have." Matthew said kindly, leaning back against the countertop.
Arthur looked at him fondly. "I'd make time for you. I hope you know that, my boy."
"Awww." Alfred cooed as the conversation trickled through the speakers.
Francis looked impressed. "So he hasn't lost his charm."
"He had charm?" The superpower looked disbelieving.
"Once upon a time." Francis said dryly.
Matthew smiled at his former guardian.
Arthur, suddenly assaulted by vivid memories of that dream, held his breath, overcome by the urge to press closer and see for his self if Matthew's skin was as smooth as it seemed in the dream.
"Oh bollocks." He thought frantically, feeling the slow unfurl of desire in his stomach. "Steady on, old chap, steady on."
He didn't want to let his perverse desires get the best of him.
"Don't ruin it. Don't ruin it!" rushed through his mind loudly and he very nearly missed Matthew's words.
"—pancakes okay?"
Arthur jerked back, looking at Matthew in confusion. "Hm?"
Matthew stared at him in worry. "You and Francis haven't had breakfast yet." He said slowly. "Would pancakes be fine?"
"Um, yes, of course, love." Arthur said quickly, missing the way Matthew's lips twitched upwards at the common endearment. "You do make excellent pancakes."
This time he caught Matthew's smile, full and bright, before the boy ducked away to gather his ingredients.
My, the boy had a lovely smile.
Alexandre is Quebec. Anthony is New York (who is his real daddy? -shot). Louise is Louisiana (I am so original XD)
I'm surprised no one mentioned the little allusion to "Vive le Quebec libre" in the last chapter. Haha, but its okay. I hope this last chapter was still good. I don't know how long this will be. I'm having way too much fun writing it.
Still worth continuing? XD
