Chapter 7

Arthur knocked lightly on Alfred's door, doubting that his boyfriend would be inside. Alfred had spotted some of his football mates and they'd proceeded to bore Arthur to tears with talk of Camaros and fantasy football stats. Arthur had decided to get an early jump on his schoolwork and retreated to his dorm room, but he soon realized it would not be much of a retreat with Francis as his roommate.

The door opened and sure enough it was Feliciano, looking a little rumpled, as if he'd dressed in a hurry. Arthur could just make out Ludwig sitting behind him on the bed, trying in vain to smooth the wrinkles out of his button-up shirt.

Arthur smirked.

"Right then. Alfred's not back yet, I suppose," he commented.

"Nope! Do you want to wait for him?" Feliciano offered. Ludwig scowled at him from the bed. A rather telling tent in the other boy's pants, combined with his flushed cheeks, made Arthur start snickering even more.

"Err, no, but thank you for the offer. You two have a nice time," he offered.

"We will! Ludwig was just about to—"

"FELICIANO!" Ludwig roared. Feliciano (immune to the shouting by this point) just grinned brightly.

"When he shouts my name like that, I'm supposed to shut up. Either that, or I've just made him really happy. I think it's the shutting up one this time, though!"

The dull smack could be heard as Ludwig's hand hit his face in a tired, exasperated sort of way.

Still holding back a grin, Arthur gave Feliciano an understanding nod and left them to return to their activities. Once the amusement wore off, however, it occurred to him how awkward it was going to be trying to schedule alone time with Alfred over the course of the next year.

Suddenly, a tiny form latched onto him from behind, nearly sending him tumbling to the floor.

"Arthur! You found me!" Peter said happily. Arthur's eyebrows twitched in annoyance.

"Peter, let me go!"

"I bet you were so worried when we were running through those bushes and you jumped over that really tall hedge, and I bet it scared you thinking I wouldn't be able to jump over. What were we running from, Arthur? I'm so glad whatever it was didn't get you!" Peter rambled. Arthur winced, prying the shorter boy off his midriff, only for the little urchin to cling to his arm, as tenaciously as if he had tentacles instead of hands.

"I wasn't running away from something. I was running away from you," Arthur replied glumly. "But you've found me."

"Arthur, when are you just going to recognize that I'm perfect for you?" Peter asked, eyes wide and googly. Arthur frowned petulantly down at him.

"Never. Will you go home now?"

"Nope!" Peter replied brightly. "If I'm going to grow up to be as cool as you, I have to be around you, silly!

"I suppose there's nothing to be done for it then," Arthur said with a sigh, as he fished his phone out of his bag. He speed dialed Yao.

"Hello?" Yao answered.

"Hello Yao. I don't suppose you'd be interested in a play date, would you? Preferably somewhere with a playground."

"Yes, that would be perfect. I am watching Raivis while Sofia and Natalia are back-to-school shopping with Ivan...god help him. There's a neighborhood park by my house. Will that work?"

"I'm too big to play at a playground!" Peter protested. His older cousin just shushed him.

"Yes, that's perfect. Meet you there in twenty?" Arthur suggested. His friend agreed, and Arthur sent Alfred a quick text telling him he was going to visit with Yao.

"Are you really taking me somewhere with you?" Peter asked hopefully. Arthur sent the message to Alfred and then sighed.

"Yes, I suppose I am. It's not as if I have anything better to do this afternoon, since classes don't start till next Monday. If you behave and let me talk to my friend, while you play nicely, I'll get you a treat."

"Really?" Peter sounded ecstatic, and Arthur had to admit, it was a little flattering that the younger boy cared so much about spending time with him. He was acting as though it was Christmas and his birthday all rolled into one.

"Well, let's get going. We'll take Alfred's car."

They drove the short distance to Yao and Ivan's neighborhood and after a few missed turns, Arthur spotted the playground. It was a very nice one, with four big play sets in bright colors, sand boxes, swings, slides and see-saws. In the backseat, Peter turned up his nose and pretended he wasn't excited.

Yao had walked to the playground with little Raivis, who seemed over his flight sickness and very interested in the playground, but too afraid to explore.

"Hello Arthur," Yao greeted, his dark eyed gaze falling on Peter. "And who is this?"

"Hullo Yao, this is my little cousin, Peter. He's skipped a few grades and is attending World Academy this year. Peter, this is my friend from student council, Yao Wang."

"It's a pleasure to meet you!" Peter greeted brightly. Yao smiled at him. On Yao's hip, Raivis giggled brightly at Peter and reached out a chubby hand for him.

"Look at that, Peter. He must recognize how cool you are. Will you show him around the park?" Arthur asked. His little cousin seemed happy at the attention from the toddler and stretched out his arms for him. With a parental smile, Yao lowered the tot to the ground and let Raivis hug Peter.

"Maybe you remind him of someone he used to know—must be that blond hair," Yao commented. Raivis clutched his stuffed panda bear (the same one that Ivan had given to Yao for his birthday the previous year) and firmly latched his other hand onto Peter's uniform.

"Aww, you're not scared of the park, are you, lad? Come on then, I'll show you! We'll go to something easy first, like the sandboxes! They're my favorite part, actually," Peter enthused, proudly taking on the role of playground guide. With amused smiles, Arthur and Yao moved to a park bench nearby, where they could oversee their charges and talk without little ears listening in.

"How are you holding up, Yao?" Arthur asked.

"I am...not so sure. Life with Ivan is crazy," Yao replied. Arthur just nodded.

"I'd say. But you seem happy," Arthur suggested. Yao leaned forward, delicately resting his chin on his hand as he watched Raivis and Peter play games of make-believe in the sandbox.

"That is the strange part. I'm exhausted, and I'm overwhelmed, and it feels like some weird dream...but I've never loved Ivan more, and I feel like this is where I am meant to be. It isn't what I planned, but it's right. Does that make sense?"

"More sense than a lot of things I've seen lately," Arthur answered with a soft smile.

"How are things with Matthew and Francis?" Yao asked, as if sensing Arthur was referring to them. "I haven't seen anyone yet, except for you and Alfred," Yao explained.

"Matthew is okay. He's made a new friend over the summer—nice enough bloke, I suppose—though he and Alfred are like oil and water. I think they've got more in common than they realize, and they're both a little territorial over Matthew."

"It's good for Matthew, though. He needs loud friends to draw him out of his shell," Yao said.

"Yeah...as for Francis...well...it's not good, Yao. His parents divorced this summer and they tried to shield him from it, but they did a piss-poor job of it. His mother was crying to him on the phone every night, and his father was expecting him to choose between them for court proceedings, and he's got it in his head that he and Matthew had the same sort of relationship his parents had a long time ago. So he met this girl on the plane and she's a model-type, doesn't believe in monogamy or love, and now he's messing around with her. It can't end well."

"This girl...what's she like?" Yao asked. Arthur frowned.

"I don't know. Obviously, I'm a little set against her because of what she's doing to Matthew, but she was polite enough to me. Maybe she's the sort of person Francis needs right now. I'm just worried he won't find his way through this mess and back to the people who really care about him."

"You mean you and Matthew?" Yao confirmed. Arthur sighed.

"I think Matthew still loves him, and I think they were good for each other. I guess I'm just a hopeless romantic."

Yao smiled. "Then you're in good company. If you can't believe in love, what can you believe in?"

"Does Ivan ever talk about love?" Arthur asked. He immediately blushed, and looked in an embarrassed way at the ground. "I mean...that is...I don't mean to pry. He just seems so hard to me. I can't ever tell what he's thinking."

Yao shrugged daintily. "He's not as complicated as all that. He's had a hard childhood and he has some strange ideas about what it means to be a man, but he's got a good heart. He doesn't put much stock in pretty words, but he shows me that he loves me in other ways."

"Oh," Arthur replied, still blushing. Yao glanced at him and grinned.

"I didn't mean like that, but I suppose he does in that way, too. No...it's little things like how he fusses if I don't eat, and when I'm brushing my hair, sometimes he'll just watch me, as if I'm the most beautiful person he's ever seen."

"Wow," Arthur replied. Yao smiled happily.

"Yeah," he agreed.

"I don't think Alfred has ever slowed down long enough to lovingly stare at me. I think the most romantic thing he does is that sometimes he'll warn me before he tries to fart on me, or if he's feeling particularly generous, he'll go for a few days without making fun of my eyebrows," Arthur whined, mostly just to lighten the mood. Yao giggled behind his hand and Arthur grinned.

"I've seen Alfred stare at you. Do you remember last year, when we'd study together in the library? It was when you were hanging out with the upperclassmen and you and him were broken up. Sometimes, I'd catch glimpses of Alfred hiding in the shelves, just watching you read."

"That's hardly romantic. The tosser was supposed to be doing his own studying while I was in the library."

"He always thought he was being so sneaky. I guess he was, if you never noticed him."

Arthur smiled knowingly. "I might have noticed him...a few times," he confessed.

Peter and Raivis had moved from the sandboxes to the slides, and they catapulted their young bodies down the plastic with total abandon and joy.

"I wish I was still more like that," Arthur said a bit longingly. "I feel like we'll be done with school before we know it, and then we'll be finding jobs and getting married, having children, doing our taxes...it's kind of a scary thought."

"Don't get too ahead of yourself, Arthur. If he's good for anything, Alfred will certainly keep you young."

Arthur chuckled, because Yao was entirely right. Having Alfred in his life was a little like being immortal, sharing a world with him that was perpetually new and shining.


It was Madeline after Michelle, and Francine after Madeline. He even went a few rounds with Gilbert, who at least stuck around long enough to smoke a cigarette with him afterward. The weekend passed in a blur of hasty fucks and acrid smoke.

"Ya know, I can get you some stronger shit, if this isn't cutting it," Gilbert offered. Francis shook his head and inhaled deeply from the European cigarette, blowing the smoke out his nose. It was late Sunday night. School would start the following Monday, but Francis didn't really care. He felt like an electronic device that had been unplugged too long, and had finally shut down.

"So you tapped that Michelle bitch, huh? She's got a fine ass. Was she tight?" Gilbert asked. Francis shrugged, uncaring.

"A little sloppy. She's not as experienced as she wants everyone to think she is," he said.

"Yeah. She's a total slut, though," Gilbert replied. Francis tossed his smoking companion a disapproving frown.

"Don't call her a slut just because she won't sleep with you," Francis said.

"Thanks for that," Michelle voiced, as she turned the nearby corner of the building and flashed a smile at them. Francis wondered how much she'd heard, and then decided he didn't care.

"Hey gorgeous. I was talking about another Michelle. Not you, baby," Gilbert said with a wink. Michelle just rolled her eyes and accepted the cigarette materials that Gilbert passed to her. She manipulated the cigarette paper a little messily, but it held together well enough.

"I hear you've been making the rounds this weekend, Francis. Good for you. Forgotten about the ex yet?" she asked. Francis drew the cigarette to his mouth and didn't answer.

"Hell no. He's being a little bitch about it still. Man, I don't see what the big deal is. Fuck that big, scary Cuban dick. You want your Teddy Bear back, then man up and go get him. Catch him in the hallway, shove him up against a locker, and tell him you're gonna pound his ass till he can't walk. Then make him call you daddy," Gilbert suggested with a lewd wink. Michelle gave him a disgusted look.

"You're a real freak, you know that Gilbert?" she replied.

"I'm a freak for you, sexy. What do ya say? Wanna meet Big Gilly?"

"Charming, but no thanks," Michelle replied.

Francis ignored them, for the most part, and focused on taking long, slow drags on his cigarette.

"So what did you come for? I think Francis has officially worn out his dick for the night," Gilbert informed with a salacious wink. It was then that Michelle pulled a bottle of expensive looking wine from her shoulder bag.

The label caught Francis's eye, and Michelle smiled.

"I thought it might catch your attention. I stole it from my parent's wine cellar before I left. Wanna share a glass with me, boys?" she offered. Francis smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Oui. Let's celebrate the start of a new year. It's off to a fantastic start, no?" Francis said, pushing tiredly off the wall and throwing his cigarette butt to the ground, where he smoothly extinguished it with the toe of his designer shoe.

"Is there any chance we'll all get fucked up on wine and have a threesome?" Gilbert asked. Michelle just smiled a little mysteriously over her shoulder as she followed Francis.

"Maybe. Only one way to find out, stoner-boy," she said in a sing-song type voice. Delighted, Gilbert trailed after them, eager as a little puppy.


The rumors reached Matthew, too, over the course of the weekend. Unlike Francis, his weekend was incredibly tame. When the first day of class was over, he tried to hang out with both Alfred and Alex at the same time, but after spending the entire hour breaking up petty arguments about things such as which super hero was really coolest, who the best baseball player was, and whether or not Cuba and Mexico were the same place, he finally announced that he was going for a walk by himself.

Matthew should have learned his lesson. Weird things happened to him when he went on walks.

He was rounding the corner when he saw them. Francis was in a shadowy alcove with a girl Matthew vaguely recognized from French club. It was broad daylight, only four in the afternoon, but the girl's panties were around her knees and she was moaning quietly against Francis's shoulder as he fucked her against the wall.

Matthew hoped the absolute disgust and revulsion showed clearly enough on his face. Startled by a spectator, the girl broke away, tugged up her panties, and ran. Clearly annoyed, Francis pulled up his pants and then slumped against the wall. He still didn't realize Matthew was there.

"Stupid bitch," Francis muttered lowly, as he pulled papers and tobacco from his pocket. He rolled a cigarette all under Matthew's horrified gaze.

"Francis..." Matthew finally said quietly. Matthew had been a bit surprised that Francis hadn't been in any of his classes. Now he knew why—the other boy simply hadn't gone. He looked hung-over, and he clearly hadn't shaved in a few days.

Finally, he spotted Matthew. He sunk to the ground, uncaring of his expensive (though wrinkled) clothes, and reached out for him. His eyes were so full of pain and desperation that Matthew couldn't help himself.

"Francis...what are you doing?" he asked confusedly. When he reached the other boy's side, he was tugged downwards, into Francis's lap. The other boy smelled bad, like wine and smoke and sweat.

"Don't leave me," Francis begged.

"W-what? Francis...you have to s-stop this! Since when do you smoke? It's not good for you," Matthew chided. But Matthew's scolding fell on deaf ears. Francis had buried his scruffy face in Matthew's neck and was bawling.

"Finally! Thank God you found him, Matthew," Arthur said, suddenly appearing on the walkway.

"Arthur, what's going on with him?" Matthew asked. Arthur froze, biting his lip, looking like a boy who was in way over his head.

"He...he got a terrible phone call this morning. His father...well...he..."

"He killed himself. Haven't you seen the news? It's all over the fucking papers. The affairs, the parties, the scandal—it's all just so fucking interesting! They're calling it the biggest thing to happen in France to the monarchy since the revolution," Francis choked out the words against Matthew's skin, clutching his former love too tightly.

Arthur stood waiting, staring at him as if to see what his move would be. Francis clutched him so tightly he felt his skin bruising. The hot tears running down his throat splashed onto his shirt collar, and Matthew couldn't do it. He couldn't be Francis's lifeline or his punching bag.

Pulling harshly, he freed himself from Francis's grip.

"I'm t-terribly s-sorry, Francis, but I c-can't. I h-have to g-go. I'm sorry!" Matthew offered uselessly as he turned and fled, tears already running down his cheeks. From where he stood, Arthur sighed in a sad way and walked towards Francis. On the opposite side, Michelle slipped out from behind a nearby pillar and joined him.

She looked shaken by what she'd overheard, but determined.

"I can help," she offered. "He's my friend...or the closest thing I have to one here," she said quietly. Arthur reluctantly dropped his scowl.

"Fine. Let's get to it, then."


Alfred came to Arthur's room after he heard what happened from Matthew. When he reached the room, Arthur and Michelle had just gotten Francis out of a shower and they'd tucked him into bed. He looked strangely small under the covers, and Alfred didn't have it in him to tease him like he normally would. He looked to Arthur for guidance on what to say, like a lost little boy.

"It's alright, Alfred. Francis will be okay," Arthur reassured. But they all doubted the words. Francis didn't look like he was going to be okay, and he certainly hadn't acted that way over the past weekend.

"I knew that he loved her. I knew that he wouldn't be able to live without her," Francis whispered brokenly. Arthur had cleaned him and dressed him, and given him headache medicine, but that was all he knew to do. Alfred looked even more helpless, as he and Francis weren't even very close.

It was Michelle who sat down beside him, pulled him up, and hugged him fiercely. He began to cry hard against her shoulder, and she rocked him a little awkwardly.

"Could you give us some time?" Michelle asked. Arthur and Alfred's eyes met and they moved to the hallway without speaking, wordlessly granting her request.

"I've got you. Hey, listen to me. Listen. The first guy I ever loved died. He was perfect, you know? I was only fifteen, but he was everything. It was so stupid, too. A car wreck. Then he was gone. My parents pulled me out of school because I was failing everything. They hired an expensive tutor but I...I convinced him to sleep with me. He told my parents I was doing better. For two years we...he was, like, twice my age. He convinced them it would be good for me to study abroad. Really, I think he just wanted to cover up what we'd done. I think he started feeling guilty. He had a wife, you know? And a kid. It's just a really fucked up world sometimes. So...I understand. I understand not being perfect, and I understand doing stupid things that you know aren't good for you, but you do them anyway because you feel—"

"Numb," Francis replied.

Michelle held him more tightly, a few tears now slipping down her cheeks, too.

"Yeah. Numb," she agreed.

"Thank you," Francis said quietly, sincerely.

"Any time," she replied. Francis stared at her, at the pretty tears clinging to thick, dark lashes, and marveled how it was possible to look so beautiful even whilst crying.

He kissed her, then, and she kissed him back.

"I love him," he whispered brokenly. He didn't know if he was talking about Matthew or his father. It kind of felt like both.

"I know," Shell replied, as she pulled off her school vest. Francis undid the buttons on her blouse, until her firm, small breasts were revealed to him, nestled inside satiny black triangles of thick lace.

"I'm too broken for him now. I'm just broken," Francis admitted, his deepest, darkest fear sounding hollow in the afternoon sunshine that filled the room, sneaking past the drawn shades.

"It's okay to be like that. Sometimes we can't help it," she replied. She kissed him then, warm and wet, her body molding against his as they fell against the rumpled sheets. They rolled, so he was on top of her, and her loose pony tail came undone. Her dark hair fanned over the white sheets.

"I'll be leaving soon, for the funeral," Francis said.

"Yeah. I'll be here when you get back," Michelle offered. Francis unclasped her bra, and kissed tenderly down her chest. She was so warm, and so very, very beautiful.

"Promise?" Francis asked. Michelle tangled her fingers in his damp hair and arched her chest against his lips and whispers.

"Yes. You're not alone. I understand. I can give you what you need."

"Okay," Francis replied, and for the first time since Matthew left him, he felt something crack inside, and just a little bit of relief poured out and soothed him.

USUKUSUK

"We can go to Ivan's room. He said we can use it, since he and Yao don't need it," Alfred said quietly. Arthur entwined his fingers with Alfred's and nodded. When they reached the room, Alfred fished out the key and opened the door. The room felt strangely empty, almost unwelcoming.

"I miss London," Arthur said. Truthfully, he missed his mother. The news of the suicide had shocked him. He'd known Francis's father well, though not as well as his mum. But still, it was a terrible note to begin the school year on. He just wished he could go home for a few days.

"Homesick already?" Alfred asked, with put-upon lightness. Arthur gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

"Don't try to cheer me up, love. Just kiss me?" Arthur asked. His handsome boyfriend seemed grateful for the advice and eagerly wrapped him up in his arms, kissing him deeply so that Arthur felt it all the way down to his toes. Alfred gently kicked the door shut, and pulled Arthur's sweater over the shorter boy's head, breaking the kiss long enough to do so. Arthur made short work of his buttons, while Alfred pulled off his T-shirt and unbuttoned his khakis.

"You gonna leave me soon?" Alfred asked.

"I...I suppose I will. The funeral will be this week," Arthur pulled Alfred's callused hands around his hips and pressed against the other boy's muscular chest.

"I can go with you...if you want. I'm just...well...forget it. I'll go, if you need me," Alfred said, trying and failing to sound resolute. Arthur peered up at him with some fondness in his gaze.

"I'm guessing you don't handle funerals well?" Arthur verified. His boyfriend shuddered.

"My grandma's funeral was awful. I was eleven. Everyone was crying and wearing black, and they made me go look at her and I got really scared and I started crying, and then it just sort of turned into laughing, and I couldn't stop and my mom was so embarrassed. My grandpa decided I was soft in the head after that...whatever that means," Alfred confessed in a rush.

"You don't have to go, Alfred," Arthur said. "I'll be fine."

"Thank god," Alfred replied, hugging Arthur tightly in gratitude.

"Besides, Francis will be enough of a mess without dealing with both of you," Arthur reasoned.

"I'm sorry," Alfred offered. Arthur just shrugged lightly in the circle of Alfred's arms and tilted his mouth up for a kiss.

"Don't be, love. You can't really afford to get behind on schoolwork, anyway. I'll probably be gone all week. You've got to study—not get wrapped up in excursions around Washington and playing football with your friends."

"Alright," Alfred agreed, only because he knew Arthur would worry about leaving him alone otherwise.

"And call me," Arthur added, sounding a little shaky. Alfred nodded and flashed a bright smile before startling Arthur by sweeping him up off his feet and carrying him to the bed. He dropped the other boy onto the mattress, where he bounced a few times before Alfred happily plopped on him.

"I'll call every night and every morning," Alfred promised. "And I'll go by your classes to get your make-up work," Alfred added. Arthur gave him a huge, proud smile.

"Look at you, being all thoughtful and romantic," he praised. Alfred just grinned, and stole another kiss.

"I try, honey," he replied, still grinning.

"I love you, Alfred Jones," Arthur replied sweetly. His boyfriend slanted his mouth over Arthur's lips and kissed him deeply. When they parted with a wet little sound, Alfred bumped his nose against Arthur's more rounded one, and gave the other boy one of those sunshine smiles.

"I love you, too, Artie," he replied. In that moment, Arthur pitied anyone who had never felt the way Alfred made him feel. He thought of Francis, and even of Michelle, and of Matthew, who had known the feeling and lost it somehow.

He vowed then and there that he wouldn't lose what he had with Alfred, no matter what life threw at them.


A/N: Bonus chapter! Lol, can you tell things took a surprising (but kind of wonderful turn) with the ex? Now everyone's falling in love again. :P Well, except for Francis, but even he got a little bit of comfort. Oh, and a few notes on Seychelles. I have big plans for Michelle in this story, which actually involve Alfred (not in the way you're thinking). So, I promise I'm not Seychelles-bashing because she has a vagina. She's just got to be a little less innocent and wide-eyed and more like Francis to connect with him in this part of the story. From what I get of her character though, I completely acknowledge that she's OOC. In the game, she seems very sweet and innocent, and in the few strips I've seen, she comes off that way, too. So sorry! I needed her a little edgier for this fic.