Chapter Nine:
A/N: And…we're coming along nicely. This chapter will mostly be an introduction chapter to Roderich and Elizabeta as well as more reflections of Matthew's past.
Matthew and Alfred climbed five floors to Antonio's apartment. Along the way Alfred complained bitterly about the elevator being out of service making sure to mention to his Spanish host that he should call a repairman.
When they reached Antonio's apartment, Matthew knocked on the door gently. It was a quarter to eleven and it was uncertain if the tenants were even awake. Luckily the lock clicked, the bolt was undone and the door swung open. On the other side was Antonio in a white t-shirt and plain red boxers.
"Oh guys," he stared at them, "Come back to get your stuff? It's packed in the living room."
Antonio's lack of excitement frightened the two North Americans as they braced themselves for the bad news. They watched him walk as a guide back towards the living room.
Lovino entered the room looking grumpy, "Yo! Antonio, who the hell is at the door? Don't they know it's fuckin' 11 o'clock at night!"
Alfred stood in the door and nudged Matthew, "Dude, they look totally unamused."
Matthew whispered back hastily, "Unamused isn't a word, Alfred."
The boys stood in the hallway and stared silently at Antonio and Lovino.
"Well?" Antonio looked at them, "You coming?"
"Um," Alfred started, but it was Matthew who broke the news, "I'm sorry Antonio. We were sightseeing all day and forgot to book a hotel."
The room fell silent. Antonio and Lovino stared at Matthew and Alfred, and the two North Americans stared back. It was so quiet the neighbour next door could be heard getting an item from his fridge and banging a body part into a solid object. His scream, what was assumed to be Spanish cursing, broke the tension in the Carriedo household.
Suddenly a huge grin broke out on Antonio's face. He threw his hands up in celebration, "That's great news!"
Alfred and Matthew blinked before exchanging glances. The Spaniard's reaction was not what they had been expecting. Making sure they were hearing him correctly Matthew asked, "Come again?"
"I said," Antonio restated, "That's great!"
"I...hate to ask but…" Matthew began. Before he could finish Alfred cut him off, "Why?"
"Because!" Antonio said still smiling away happily, "I got a phone call today from…a guy I know. He wants to come visit and is probably expecting to stay here."
"But then we're in the way." Matthew said with a frown.
"But that's good!" Antonio said with spirit. When he was met with confused expressions he explained, "You see I'm not overly fond of this guy who's coming. So, if you two stay here he'll have to find another place to stay."
"Oh," Matthew said blankly, but Alfred was more enthusiastic.
"Sweet, so we don't have to leave then. Good news for all of us." He turned to Matthew, "We don't have to move our stuff and Debbie can relax."
Antonio raised a brow, "Who's Debbie?"
Matthew sighed as Alfred left his side and made his way towards the living room, "His debit card."
"He named his debit card? Interesting." Antonio's eyebrow was still raised as he was trying to figure out why Alfred would do that.
"It's stupid." Lovino finally spoke, "Only living things should have names."
"Like your turtles?" Antonio poked his lover's tanned cheek with a sly grin.
"Don't touch my face!" Lovino jumped back fiercely.
"Okay, okay," The Spaniard threw his hands up and laughed. He pivoted and looked at Alfred who was shuffling around his stuff. "It's just after eleven guys so we should go to bed. I bet you two had a long day."
"We did," Matthew said with a smile. He pulled out the book he had bought and placed it on the round wooden side table, "There was a lot to see."
Antonio shrugged with an obvious ego, "Of course there was. We are in Spain."
While Matthew chatted away to Antonio about everything they had seen, including the cashier who spoke English, Alfred undressed himself. He removed his blue shirt then sat on the now pulled out couch bed to pull off his charcoal black jeans. When he was done he leaned across the bed, the tip of his head touching Matthew's back. Staring at the ceiling he wished Matthew would shut up so he could catch some sleep.
"Matthew," Alfred reached his arms up and around the Canadian's waist, "Let's go to bed, I'm exhausted."
"Really?" Matthew's blue eyes turned and look down at him, "I figured you'd be hungry."
As if on cue Alfred's stomach grumbled. The last time they had eaten was at lunch when Matthew had shared a bite of his fish with the American. The memory gave Alfred a wonderful shudder. "Yeah, we should get something quickly."
Antonio chuckled and pardoned himself to the kitchen. "You're in luck," He said as he returned, placing a plate with two wrapped burritos on the table, "I knew you two would be back, I just didn't know when so I went ahead and made you guys one just in case."
Alfred's mouth watered as he stared at the wrap overflowing with lettuce, tomato and chunks of chicken. He let go of Matthew and reached over for the plate. The action made Matthew frown and complain, "You only get one."
Placing the plate on the bed Alfred gave his partner a disappointed look, "I'm not trying to take your wrap, I just don't want to spill sauce on the sheets."
Matthew took a deep breath and conceded. He stretched out his hand and took the remaining burrito off the plate. Holding it tightly in his hands he took a bite. Delicious! He was so hungry he devoured the entire thing in less than two minutes.
After patting his stomach Alfred rolled over onto his front. He watched Antonio take the plate after dismissing Matthew's insistence, disappear into the kitchen and reappear only to travel through the room and into the attached hallway. The door to his room was visible from the angle Matthew and Alfred were at. He bid them a goodnight and entered his room closing the door behind him, but not before explaining that they would have to be up early to move their stuff into Lovino's room. Antonio wanted to give the full impression that all the living space was taken up.
Alfred, who was lying horizontally, moved himself to a vertical position tucking himself under the light, white covers. He watched, with much pleasure, Matthew taking off his red shirt and blue jeans. He laughed inwardly when the Canadian stopped, midway pulling down his pants, to blush at Alfred's stare. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. The uneasy expression on Matthew's face was a portend to his pulling on a white t-shirt over his nicely built torso.
The American moved back a bit to make room for Matthew to slide in beside him. The Canadian curled himself up under the blanket and fluffed his pillow before resting his soft, blond hair on it. Neatly positioned on his side, Matthew stared into the blue pools of Alfred's eyes. He smiled, "Good night, Alfred."
The blond opposite of him smiled back, whispering, "Good night Mattie."
)()()()()(
The rain poured heavily across the city of Montreal. Matthew sat at the window of his mother's downtown apartment watching the fat droplets hit the window. He looked down eighteen flights below him to see people scurrying around with wide-rimmed umbrellas. The damp smell of rain infiltrated the home, giving the place the unique aroma of a wet meadow. Huddled in his red sweater, the thirteen year old turned around to face the living room.
It was small, but cosy. The couch was a dark chocolate brown with a white cover draped across the top. A single light brown bear holding a red heart acted as an ornament. Across from the couch was a black entertainment set, with nothing but a small twelve inch colour television placed inside the main square cavity. In the cupboards underneath were all of Matthew's favourite DVDs and videotapes. The top, long rectangular space near the top housed a grey DVD/VHS player. Beside Matthew was an old brown rocking chair with wine-red cushions on the back and seat. The entire set up sat on top of a thick, plush French vanilla white carpet. The walls were white and, with the exception of a few portraits of Matthew and his mother and grandparents, were bare.
"Mathieu," His mother Élise gave a tsk as she entered the room from the kitchen, "You know you're not supposed to sit on the heater."
Matthew looked down and stared at the white iron bulk jumping out of the wall, he looked back to his mom and tried to justify himself, "I was just staring outside, maman."
"Yes, I know." She acknowledged, setting down a cup of hot apple cider with a green coaster on the black wooden coffee table, "But if you're not careful you'll end up burning your leg. I don't want you to get hurt."
"Okay, okay…" He got off and dragged himself to the couch. Reaching out for his cider he brought it to his lips and blew on it before taking a sip. Seeing the sparkling eagerness is his mother's eyes he smiled and complimented it, "It's really good, maman."
It had been six years since his mother had caught his father, Francis, cheating on him with Arthur. Since then the two men had continued seeing each other and, after a law was passed last year making same sex marriage legal, had decided to get married. Francis had invited his ex-wife to the wedding but she declined to attend. The divorce had been hard on Matthew. He was constantly being shuffled back and forth. For a while, about a year to two years after the separation, he had had to visit his mom in a mental institution after she attempted to hang herself from depression. Matthew cried all night in her arms begging her to never do it again. Even his father felt terrible and attempted to create some type of friendship for both his wife and Matthew's sake. It ended in failure – she shut him out completely.
Élise had managed to move on however. Some serious counselling and encouragement from her mother had helped her come to terms with her shattered life. Shortly after Matthew's tenth birthday she enrolled herself at one of the city's many colleges where she took secretarial courses. When his eleventh rolled around she was preparing to graduate with honours. Both Matthew and her mother attended the ceremony and applauded her as she walked the floor to receive her diploma. Shortly after she received a job as a book-keeper for a small downtown automobile business that sold used cars.
She was glad to be doing something with herself. Before she could finish her social science degree at McGill University Francis had swept her away on her feet. After they were married she discontinued working and had little experience outside of being a housewife.
"Aren't you going to have any?" Matthew asked. His mother was sitting politely on the sofa watching him enjoy his drink.
"Non, merci amour." She answered him in her native tongue. She was content sitting there watching Matthew instead.
"So," The teen placed his empty mug on the table, "What did you want to do today, maman?"
"Well," She looked out the midsized window. It was still raining, "We can't go outside today, my dear. We could still go out though; we'll have to drive."
His mother's brown station wagon had worn down a few years ago and had been replaced with a blue Ford focus. Matthew liked the little car with leather seats. He wondered if she would still have it when he turned sixteen. He looked forward to the opportunity to drive it one day.
"Why don't we just stay in," Matthew grabbed the black converter on the table. He pointed it at the television, "The Montreal Allouettes are in Calgary playing the Stampeders. We can watch that."
Élise shrugged playfully, "Why not." Her brown hair was now longer and wavy. She wore golden hooped earrings and had a chunk of bangs off to one side. The weight she had lost during her depression years had started to come back and she looked healthy and well.
Matthew turned up the volume so the Canadian Football commentators could be heard. Getting into the game he barely noticed his maman picking up his mug and carrying it to the parallel kitchen to be cleaned. Despite having a dishwasher she insisted on washing by hand.
The rain was endless outside. As the fourth quarter of the game was coming to a close Matthew looked at his watch. It was just past ten at night. He had to be up early tomorrow to be picked up by his father. His weekend with his mom was coming to an abrupt end. Normally he would spend Friday evening, all Saturday and Sunday morning and afternoon with her but her boss had scheduled a mandatory staff meeting that she was required to be at on Sunday. He would have to say goodbye to her hours sooner than he had hoped to.
Hoping to get in as much time with her as possible he asked if she would like to play a quick game of monopoly. Hugging him she declined saying it was too late for him to be up.
"But maman," he argued, "all the boys my age stay up this late."
"Not you, Mathieu," She kissed him on the forehead, "Now go. Bed."
Grudgingly Matthew got up off the couch and turned left down the short hallway. His mother's apartment had two rooms. Hers and Matthew's. Sometimes his room would double up as a spare if she had guests during the week while he was away with Francis. He wondered what it would be like to live with his mother full time. He knew it would not be possible for a long time however. She had been denied full custody after she fell into depression. Her attempted suicide made things worse. The judge had felt it was a bad environment for Matthew. Matthew's opinion differed. He felt not being there was a bad environment for her.
He entered his room on the right, across from his mother's. The sheets were fresh since his mother had made the bed that day. She made the bed with new sheets every day Matthew was there. It was her way of trying to make a few short days feel like an extended week. Tossing off his cotton white shirt with the Montreal Canadiens logo into his blue laundry hamper he pulled down the comforter. He removed his blue jeans and discarded them along with his t-shirt. Pulling on a pair of blue checkered pajamas bottoms and a blue t-shirt he climbed into bed after flicking the light switch off.
Before he drifted off Élise came in to the room through the cracked door and ran her slender fingers through his soft hair, "Je t'aime, my baby, Je t'aime." She tucked him in then removed herself from the room, looking back once more, lovingly at her son.
There was no sun climbing into Matthew's room upon dawn since he had no window. The only thing there to wake him was his mother. She did so at 8:50am. Grumbling he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stirred himself out of bed. Slugging halfway down the hall he made his way to the bathroom where he had a quick shower and changed into fresh clothing. Returning to his room he packed his things while his mom made breakfast.
As he entered the kitchen his mom placed a plate of bacon and scrambled eggs on the plastic white table. Matthew pulled up a seat and thanked his mom for the meal before scarfing it down. As a young growing teen he was very hungry, very often. Almost as if on cue the doorbell rang as he finished up.
His mother sighed bitterly, "That must be your father. Go get your things Matthew."
The blonde took off down the hall while Élise opened the front door to her apartment. She was surprised to find Arthur standing there. And the surprise was not a good one. She bitterly loathed him for his part in the affair. He knew Francis was married and did nothing to stop his advances. She felt disrespected by him.
"Hello Élise." He said politely. His posture and tone hinted at how nervous he was to be standing face-to-face with her, "Francis wasn't able to make it so…I came instead."
"I don't have anything to say to you, Arthur." She responded dryly.
"Yes," he dropped his eyes to the floor. He was still ashamed over his involvement, "I supposed as much."
Matthew was back in a flash, "Hi Arthur." His red backpack was slung over his shoulder and a baseball cap of the same colour was perched on his head. His muscle shirt was also red and his knee length jersey material shorts were black.
"I'm ready to go." He said with a smile. Over the last year Matthew had started referring to Arthur as "dad" on occasion. At first the Brit felt awkward about it but gradually grew comfortable with it. Most of the time however, he was just Arthur. Matthew knew however, to never call Arthur 'dad' in front of his mother. It would break her heart. He knew how weak she was emotionally and didn't want to cause her more pain.
Walking down the hall on the reddish-purple carpet towards the elevators Matthew turned around and waved goodbye to his mom who watched from the doorway, "Bye maman! I'll see you next weekend!"
She said nothing. She just smiled.
)()()()()(
"Matthew," The Canadian wiggled in his bed, feeling the skin of his cheek being probed, "Matthew!"
Mumbling incoherent words Matthew's eyes opened. Staring back at him were the deep blue eyes of his travelling partner. Sitting up he murmured, "Alfred?"
"Yup," Alfred grinned at him, "It's me."
"What time is it?"
"Time to get up." The American responded with enthusiasm. He was already fully dressed, with his things packed into his suitcase, "Antonio wants us to start moving stuff around now."
Matthew looked at the bags on the ground. Alfred was already neatly packed, while Matthew's cloths from yesterday were still folded on the floor. Looking up at the American he blinked, "I'm…not sure what's happening."
"Well," Came a voice from the kitchen. It was Antonio bringing in a plate of over-easy eggs with toast, "Alfred got up first so he got first dibs and he chose the bedroom. That means you get the couch."
Matthew frowned, "That seems hardly fair."
Alfred shrugged, "But Mattie, you looked so cute and peaceful sleeping there. I figured you liked the couch."
The smug look on the American's face told Matthew a different story. Whether he liked it or not however, Alfred had beaten him to the punch. He took the plate as Antonio handed it to him and dipped his toast into the creamy yellow centre of the egg. He bit into it and chewed and swallowed before asking what he had to do.
"Well," Alfred jumped up, "What I'd like is for you to pack your stuff up."
"Why?" Matthew asked with a hint of sarcasm, "Am I being kicked out?"
"Not entirely," His blonde counterpart replied. He smiled brightly at the Canadian, "I want to share the bedroom with you."
"But won't that break the illusion?" Matthew asked after having a second bite.
"Not if they can't see it," Antonio sat on the end on the bed, "Well just leave your bag off to the side and tell them you're sleeping in the living room."
"But then what's the point in moving to the bedroom at all?" Matthew wondered out loud.
Alfred bounced his shoulders up again, "I dunno. A better place to sleep maybe?"
Feeling slightly irritated Matthew put down his plate and crossed his arms, "Well maybe I don't want to share a bedroom with you."
Frowning Alfred looked Matthew in the face, "Aw, don't say that Mattie. I want to share the room with you. Originally you were supposed to stay in the living room, but I wanted you with me."
"Why?"
"I dunno…because." Alfred answered the Canadian's lightning question.
Turning his attention back to the plate on his lap above the covers he said, "Well, we'll see."
"So anyway," Antonio raised his voice, reminding them of his presence, "Perhaps we can get moving now. Those two will be here shortly."
Two hours later, nearing eleven o'clock in the morning, the gang of four found their chat being interrupted by the ringing of a doorbell.
"Ugh," Lovino grumbled in a low voice, "They're here."
Antonio hesitated momentarily, but the second set of rings got him moving. He dragged himself towards the front door and opened it, "Roderich! How nice of you to come over!"
"Yes, yes," The fancily dressed young man waved the Spaniard aside, inviting himself in. He was followed by a young woman with long brown hair.
Roderich Edelstein was the same age as Antonio and the two had known each other for a fair length of time. Antonio had taken some college classes in Italy where he was roomed with Roderich, a native of Austria. The suite they shared housed five people – Antonio, Roderich, Lovino, Lovino's brother Feliciano and Ludwig, a German cousin of Roderich's.
The Austrian was slightly shorter than Antonio but it was hardly noticeable. He was very well dressed in a whitish-blue button up shirt, with the base tucked neatly into his dress pants. Since it was hot outside he did not bother to wear a jacket. His black hair was combed neatly, save for a strand of hair defiantly sticking out at the top. His glasses made him look both smart and sophisticated.
Taking off his dress shoes he waded into the apartment, watching where he stepped. His stare towards the ground gave the impression that he was worried the apartment was not clean and that his clear white socks were vulnerable to dirt in the carpet.
Behind him was the cheerful young woman. Antonio had met her before. Her name was Elizabeta Héderváry and she was Roderich's fiancée. She was outfitted in a sunshine yellow dress with a wide brimmed, white sunhat. She happily followed her fiancé into the Spaniard's living room without any sort of acknowledgement to Antonio. Her silver chain, covered in different shaped charms, made a clinging noise as she passed.
Roderich was standing in the living room when she joined him. He was staring at the couch deciding whether or not to sit down. It was obvious by now that he was, in his own way, snubbing Carriedo's home. Elizabeta suggested they sit down but he was hesitant. Finally Lovino pushed himself away from the wall he was leaning against and muttered that he would get chairs from the kitchen.
When he returned he placed them down opposite of the couch, in front of the coffee table. Matthew had already been occupying one of the seats of the sofa, with Alfred sitting on the couch's bulky ledge beside him. Roderich looked at them both individually before taking his seat on the stiff wooden chair. Elizabeta sat down next to him.
"Well," Antonio had collected himself at the door and came in behind his guests, "I guess we're all here then." He crossed the room and sat down on the chesterfield next to Matthew. Lovino opted to go back to leaning against the corner of the wall at the bedroom hallway.
The room grew quiet momentarily as no one could think of anything to say. Antonio broke the silence for the second time by introducing his guests. Looking at Roderich he raised his hand to gesture to Matthew and Alfred, "These are my new friends, Matthew and Alfred. They're on vacation right now so I told them they could stay here." He added on for good measure, "This was long before I knew you were coming."
"Yes, of course," The Austrian spoke in his thick accent. He lowered his head and played with his glasses in a sophisticated way, hoping, it seemed, to show some irritation.
"Sorry man," Antonio shrugged, "I can't just kick them out, you know?"
Roderich gave an exasperated sigh loud enough to nearly drown out Elizabeta's question regarding where they would now stay. He looked at her, "A hotel. Which," he added just for good insult, "would be better suited to us."
Antonio twitched an eye, internally coaching himself to stay calm. During his first year of college when he chose to study in Italy, he had shared a dorm with Roderich. He was well tuned to what the Austrian's personality was like. He was snobbish, sombre and a nag. He knew less about Elizabeta.
"So," he changed the subject, "tell me more about yourself, Miss Héderváry."
"Oh," The brunette woman looked at her fiancé for approval. He nodded his head, not bothering to look at her, "Well, I'm from Hungary. I met Roderich while I was visiting my cousin in Germany."
Antonio raised an eye but Lovino asked the question, "Are you fucking kidding me? That potato bastard is your cousin too?"
Elizabeta was stunned by Lovino's language. Antonio apologized, "I think what my friend was trying to say-" He was cut off by a snarky noise coming from the back of Roderich's nose. Antonio looked at him, slightly aggravated.
"What?" The black haired Austrian cocked his head. He gave a wicked grin as he pushed up his glasses, "Everyone knows, Antonio. Lovino isn't just your friend. He's more than that."
Antonio bit his tongue before smiling, "Well aren't you clever, Roderich. And here I thought you were an easy man to fool." Score, Antonio! That'll teach the asshole to keep his mouth shut.
But Roderich wasn't done with him. He huffed a laugh nasally, "You're an easier man to fool for not noticing that everyone was already aware. Trying to hide something in plain sight…"
Antonio opened his mouth to reproach his guest but Lovino raised his voice, "Who cares! Just answer the question."
Roderich gave him a quiet but indignant stare as Elizabeta explained, "Yes, you see I'm a cousin of Ludwig's on his mother's side while Roderich is a cousin on his father's side. We're related only through the marriage of external family members. That's all."
It was a decent enough explanation though Alfred couldn't resist, "I bet it's going to be awkward at your wedding for your cousin though."
Roderich examined the American from his socks to the loose, out of place strand of hair at the top of his head. Despite the Austrian's elegant upbringing, being the son of a wealthy orchestra conductor, he was unable to hide his impressions of the young man. His narrowed brow and calculating eyes screamed that Alfred was culturally inferior.
Since he had taken the time to analyze the blond he thought he'd do the same for the other. The blue eyed boy in the green shirt looked vaguely familiar. "Where are you from again?" Roderich asked.
"Oh," Matthew looked into the sharp, purple eyes watching him, "I didn't say. I'm from Canada."
Roderich hummed. Where had he seen this boy before? He could've sworn…
"So," Antonio cut through his thoughts like a sharp knife, "What kind of business brings you here, Roderich?"
"The business of music as always," The Austrian crossed one leg over the other, "As you know my father is a well-known conductor and he's been asked to lead a symphony here in Spain."
"That doesn't explain why you're here." Lovino said rudely.
"I'm here," Roderich said, controlling the tempo and pitch of his voice, "because my father has accepted but is currently busy. He's left me to do the paperwork."
"Roderich is his personal assistant!" Elizabeta added with a brightened smile.
"Well isn't that nice." Antonio smiled back, though it was obvious he couldn't have cared less.
"Yes," the Austrian commented, "It is nice to know that I have a future. The arts are still important and have actually been a growing appetite in places like China. With more experience I'm sure I will be able to book my own performance as a pianist."
"Oh wow," Matthew's eye lit up, "You play the piano? That's great."
Roderich nodded in acknowledgement to the Canadian before looking back at Antonio, "So tell me, Antonio, what kind of future do you have with maps?"
The Spaniard gritted his teeth, "Maps always need to be updated so –"
"…So you'll be doing small contract work."
Sensing the tension Elizabeta tugged at Roderich's shirt, "I think we should go find a hotel now. By the time we find an available room and book it it'll be lunch. After that we can check in."
"Maybe we should have lunch together." Matthew suggested, but a nudge and a look from Alfred told him that wasn't a good idea.
Roderich stood up and gave a single nod to the group before turning on his heel and leaving the living room into the hallway. Elizabeta followed his footsteps with a bounce.
Antonio, Matthew and Alfred followed them to the door to give a proper goodbye.
"Hopefully we'll see you again before you leave." Matthew said politely.
"By the way," Alfred said as Roderich had his foot out the door, "What are your names? You never told us."
Roderich looked in dead in the eye, "I figured Antonio had told you. It's Roderich. Roderich Edelstien. This is my fiancée Elizabeta Héderváry." She smiled at mentioning of her name.
Nothing more was said other than a quick "bye" from Antonio. The door closed behind the guests and the Spaniard was thankful for their departure.
Notes:
~Same-sex marriage was made legal in Canada in 2005. Canada is the second nation, after Netherlands to legalize this type of union. To alleviate confusion from chapter five decriminalizing homosexuality and making it legal for two people of the same gender to marry are two different things. Canada decriminalized homosexuality in 1972.
~The Montreal Allouettes and the Calgary Stampeders are part of the Canadian Football League. There are eight teams in total (for now…). The six others are: B.C. (British Columbia) Lions, Edmonton Eskimos, Saskatchewan Roughriders, Toronto Argonauts, Hamilton Tiger-Cats (My favourite team!) and the Winnipeg Blue Bombers. They play in the summer months because like hell would they be able to play in the snow. Most CFL stadiums are outdoor stadiums.
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