# Chap8 UsUk MapleTea (Ending?) #

Hehe. I dunno. MORE PLOT! XD I have to warn you, though, this is a shitty ending. But I can't be bothered writing more, so...Actually, this'll probably be the last chapter. Hope you guys enjoyed.

I accept requests for omakes and sequels :3

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"I can't believe you two!"

Matthew went to raise an eyebrow but then winced as the disinfectant was applied to a cut above his eye by a seemingly angry British teenager. Arthur's expression was...rather stormy, and he was unsettled by it. But most of all he didn't want to be in the same room as Alfred, who was sweeping up a broken plate, following the Brit's orders. The Canadian had been given treatment first, due to the blood dripping everywhere from his nose and split lip. Thankfully, Matthew wasn't the only injured one, though. Alfred was nursing some bruised ribs, by the sound of him wincing every time he bent over, and a bruise was coloring on his face in yellows and purples.

"What possessed you to do such things to each other?"

Arthur's lecture was met with silence from both brothers, as Matthew looked away from his searching green gaze and Alfred dumped the mess in the bin. The clatter of plate shards in the bin was the only noise made in the next five minutes, and Matthew realised faintly that Alfred was leaving the room. Arthur turned his head to watch, a disappointed look on his face as the American walked up the stairs.

Matthew decided that he needed to get out of here too. He used one hand to brush Arthur's away from him gently and shifted on his position sitting on the counter. Arthur standing between his jean-clad legs meant he had no hope of escape; and to tell the truth, he really didn't want to anyway. Even though the Brit was supposed to be telling him off, there was just a detached feeling in Matthew's heart, much like usual.

"You realise we're twins, right?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Matthew sighed. This was it.

"When I was little, I got sent to a school in Canada because I had...issues. I had to leave my friends, my family, everything. It was...really painful. Especially when I had to leave my best friend. I couldn't even bear to tell him I was leaving. I just...up and left. But Alfred, thinking he was doing the right thing, tried to take over my life with that boy. It helped the boy didn't actually know my name, and just assumed we were the same person, even if our personalities were completely different.

Then...when I returned, Alfred decided he didn't want to reveal the truth, which I would've agreed with, except...I still wanted that boy. And he had no idea who I was, what I was. But I was willing to fight to get what I wanted, and Al didn't like that. At all. But, Arthur...I didn't want to let you go. I loved you too much."

The moment Matthew stopped speaking, he was aware of wide green eyes fixed on him. Arthur looked shocked, stunned even, and wasn't moving, and the Canadian felt a slither of uncertainty before he shook it off.

Oh, fuck it. Screw Alfred and his games, Matthew was over it. With a yank of Arthur's sweater vest he crashed the other's lips against his and shut his eyes tightly. After a moment of what seemed like shock the Brit began kissing back, and Matthew wound his legs around Arthur's waist to pull him closer, fisting his hands in the soft material of the vest. The kiss was rough and desperate on the Canadian's part, and careful on the Brit's. Matthew's split lip tainted it, the sharp tang of his blood melting into it. He traced his tongue along Arthur's bottom lip, enjoying the contact. After a moment of thought Arthur's lips parted slightly, granting him entrance as their tongues touched tentatively. This continued for a long, hot minute until Arthur broke it off with a gasp.

"Matthew, what was...that?"

"Not sure. Why? Did you not like it?"

Arthur let out a shaky breath, a blush spread across his face. Matthew kept his own expression blank, even though on the inside he was dancing with joy. That had been the most amazing moment of his life, funnily enough. His heart was beating erratically, but it was in a good way, a way that made him feel like maybe he meant something for once. He let his legs drop down as he heard the front door slam open and shut, and assumed Alfred had gone out. Maybe he'd seen them.

"I...um...did you mean it?"

Matthew let out a short laugh. "I don't just make out with anyone, Arthur."

Arthur went a brighter red. "I didn't- I wasn't implying that-"

"Of course you weren't."

"I..."

"Tell me you don't want it."

Arthur trailed off, looking at him with an unreadable expression. Matthew felt a faint smile appear on his lips, and reached one hand up to push his glasses up his nose as he slid off the counter. Arthur's expression stayed the same as he gazed up, seemingly in thought. Then he took one of Matthew's hands in his own and reached the other to take the Canadian's glasses off completely. He laid them down on the counter and smiled faintly as well.

"Shall we?"

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Matthew realised with faint amusement as he pushed Arthur down on the bed that it was Alfred's bed they were doing this deed on. Then he also realised he really didn't care anymore. He didn't really have a place in this home; not any more. Green eyes, dark with desire, gazed up at him as Matthew unzipped his hoodie and yanked off his shirt. They'd already managed to discard Arthur's pants and sweater, leaving him in his underwear and a white button-up. And damn, did he rock that look.

"What if your parents come home?"

"They won't."

Arthur raised an eyebrow at the blunt abolishment of his question, but didn't really seem that bothered anyway. He wound his hands through Matthew's hair, enjoying the softness of the gold locks, and pulled him down for another kiss. They'd stopped being rough a while back, but desperation was still fuelling their desire and soon Arthur's hands had slipped down to Matthew's pants to play with the zipper. The Canadian felt his breath hitch as hands brushed his crotch. Then his pants were unzipped and pulled down with ease, his boxers soon joining them on the carpeted floor. Matthew tugged on the Brit's own boxers and they were removed as well. Then they stopped to look at each other, taking in the other's expression and asking a question accordingly.

"...Are you sure about this?"

"Would I have let it go this far if I wasn't?"

A laugh. "True."

### ####((sorry for skipping it, wasn't up to writing a smut scene today))

Arthur awoke to a warm arm around him and assumed it must have been Alfred, in his sleepy mind. He curled closer to the body and in return a cold nose pressed against the back of his neck. It wasn't unpleasant, however, and he found himself drifting back into unconsciousness again, the faint scent of maple syrup reaching his senses. The arm tightened around him and Matthew smiled in his sleep, dreaming of something.

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When Alfred got home, it was late, too late. He'd been out the whole damn night, and most of the morning. His parents weren't home, but that didn't change the fact he'd been out with Ivan again. Nothing good ever happened when he went out with the Russian, and he could only hope that limp he had was from a fight or something and not what he suspected it was. He groaned as he entered the house, smelling food and wondering who could possibly be cooking in his house. Soft voices reached his ears as he kicked off his shoes.

"So...Matthew, are you ever going to finish that painting?"

"Oui. When I get the time. But aren't you going to tell on me to the student council?"

"No. I'm going to join the club myself, I've decided. So really, there's no problems anyway."

"Are the student council going to be okay with that?"

And then he was treated to the sight of Arthur in nothing more than a loose, unbuttoned white shirt and British flag boxers, leaning against the counter and nursing a steaming cup of tea while Matthew cooked in nothing but jeans, the lack of a belt revealing a slim waistline. He said something to Arthur in an amused tone that Alfred couldn't hear and the Brit laughed and leaned over to kiss his brother lightly on the lips, and it was such a genuinely perfect and happy moment that Alfred felt his heart drop to the floor and shatter. He backed up a step, just a single step, and looked back at the door.

He'd lost.

It was over.

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"Did...did you hear something? I could've sworn that I..."

Arthur trailed off, a bothered look on his face. He set his tea on the bench and wandered over to the doorway, looking out into the hall but not seeing anything. Matthew pulled the maple syrup out of the fridge and raised an eyebrow at him in question, his glasses still sitting on the counter by request of the Brit.

"You what?"

"It's nothing. Never mind."