CHAPTER IX

September took the place of August, and Alfred returned to school, although he had trouble focusing. Every day, he rushed home to spend time with Matthew and his friends.

The boy was a common face among them now, even with Roderich. Though, when he first met Matt after weeks of hiding out in his house, the atmosphere had been rather awkward. He had only recently found out about Matthew's situation because Elizaveta decided to finally reconcile. They had never told the Canadian about how Rod wanted to leave him behind when they found him, so it confused him to find shame in the Austrian's face.

On the weekends, they hung out and played football, but homework and school days made it difficult for everyone to get together. Alfred spent most of his time with his tenant at home. Sometimes, he'd even teach Matthew what he was learning at school, since it helped him get his work done. Matt didn't mind, and he even seemed to take genuine interest in the little lessons. The boy's sincerity and sweet smile always filled Alfred with unadulterated joy.

Matthew had been recovering, though there were still times when he woke up screaming from nightmares. Al could tell a hidden guilt was eating away at the Canadian from trying to let go of Toris. Matt had decided to pick up the searches again because of that guilt, but nothing had come of it so far. It was discouraging, but with Al by his side, he held onto hope.

Alfred wasn't sure how to describe their relationship. He wasn't sure if they were dating or friends or somewhere in between. Yes, he had told Matt that he could start life over with him, and the boy had accepted his offer, but what did that really mean? He'd never been put in a situation anything like this one, and the flimsy middle school dates weren't much experience. It was nerve-wracking trying to figure out what they were to each other.

The two would embrace and entwine their fingers, but Alfred wouldn't dare to go any further. Matthew was still sensitive to touch, as he shied away from the contact. Recently, though, he had been acting strange; restless and fidgeting, his face red and words sputtering.

The American didn't understand what was going on until one afternoon on the weekend, when he found Matthew lying on the couch again. At first, he'd feared that Matt was relapsing back into his depression, but that didn't look like the case. The boy's face was flushed and his eyes half-closed, almost as if he were sick.

"You feeling okay?" Alfred asked, placing a hand on Matt's forehead. It wasn't hot, but he sure didn't look well.

Trembling, Matthew mumbled something the other couldn't catch. "Sorry, what?"

"Pl-Please," he pleaded, his words stumbling between tepid breaths. "Please m-move back."

"What? What are you-?"

"Al, please. I-I can't guarantee I won't j-jump you."

Alfred's blue eyes widened as he understood the meaning behind the words. He obliged, stepping back a bit. Taking in the sight of Matthew curled up on the sofa, a blush rose to his face as he put two and two together.

"S-Sorry," Matthew apologized, "but I don't want to t-take any chances. I-I'm not used to, well, not being u-used every day, so I've been getting really, um, agitated. I've tried ignoring it, b-because……a-all I can think of i-is…you know, b-back then." He didn't bother telling Alfred about how he'd tried jerking-off to deal with it. That would be way too awkward, especially since, strangely enough, it was only a successful alternative when he imagined Al's hand on him.

"…Um, there's got to be something I can do to help, right?"

"A-Al, I'm sorry, but the best thing you can d-do is stay away and let me…c-cool down."

"…Okay," Alfred conceded, reluctantly walking away. Unsure where to go, he climbed the staircase, an idea coming to mind. Maybe Elizaveta would know what to do.

When he reached his room, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed her number. It rang a few times before she picked up. "Hello?"

"Hey, Eliz. It's Al."

"Hey, what's up? Gilbo and I are over at Rod's house."

Alfred heard a faint "Stop calling me that!" in the background. She really did enjoy teasing him about his name.

"I need some help, well, some advice I guess."

"Ooh, does this have to do with Matt? It does, doesn't it?"

"…Yeah, um, I thought you might be able to help me since I know you read those comics with the guys…together, and…yeah."

"Oh man, you've got to tell me what's going on over there."

He sighed, rubbing his forehead before answering, "Matt's acting kinda…strange."

"How?"

"I-It's like he's in heat or going through sex withdrawal or something."

Judging from the silence on the other end of the phone, Alfred figured his friend was waiting for him to say more, so he continued. "He's on the couch and his face is red and he doesn't want me near him because he's afraid he's gonna jump me or something and I don't know what to do."

"…O-Oh my God, this is amazing."

Exasperated, Al told her, "Look, can you just tell me what I can do to help? It's killing me to see him like this."

Elizaveta let out a few giggles. "Well, besides the obvious option- meaning actually doing something with him- you could probably get him a lollipop or a popsicle to suck on. It might give him some relief."

He considered the suggestion, deciding it was actually a pretty good idea. "Okay, I think I'll try that. Thanks, Eliz."

"Anytime." She closed her phone, and looked to her friends, both of which looked confused by the conversation. "Come on," she declared, grabbing her video camera off the small desk. It was a good thing she brought it with her wherever she went now, just for moments like these. "I've gotta see this."

"Ooh, spying," Gilbert stated. "I like that. Rod, let's go!"

"No thanks," Roderich declined, "but I'd rather stay here." He had an inkling of what was going on, unlike the ever-so-impulsive albino, and it wasn't something he'd condone.

"Suit yourself." Gilbert shrugged and ran out after Elizaveta. Did he have any idea what they were going to do? Not really, but without Rod, it was a lot easier for him to make a move on her. Eliz was too awesome for the Austrian, so she needed someone that matched her awesomeness, obviously.

In the meantime, Alfred hopped back downstairs, stopping behind the sofa. "Hey, Matt?"

"Hm?" the boy weakly responded, the mere sound of Al's voice rousing him.

"Um, do you want to try, uh, sucking on a popsicle or something? To cool you down?"

Matthew blinked, gazing up at him. At this point, he needed release, and as long as he didn't force the other into anything, he didn't care how he got it. "Y-Yeah, sure."

He found the strength to rise off the couch and follow Alfred into the kitchen. Al pulled a popsicle out of the freezer and sat opposite Matthew at the counter. Ripping off the wrapper and lazily tossing it in direction of the garbage can, he held out the frozen treat. "Okay, here you go."

The boy took it with his hands, staring hesitantly at it. Slowly, his tongue inched towards it and gently touched the tip. He began a long lick from top to bottom, slithering back up and down the juicy surface. Alfred couldn't stop himself from watching the boy give the popsicle a blow job, one that would probably feel really good. To be stroked by that tongue…just, God.

It was so awkward licking the ice pop in front of Al. Why was that? He'd sucked real "popsicles" too many times for him to count, but simply tonguing the frozen treat with Alfred there felt different. It meant something.

After several shy glides, he let the popsicle pass his lips, sucking it fervently. Just listening to the slurping sounds, along with the visual image, was more than enough to turn Al on.

Juice dripped down from the melting ice treat, and Matthew switched back to licking to prevent the liquid from getting onto the countertop. It was getting all over his hands and face, and Al wasn't sure how much he could take.

Thankfully, the phone rang and he got up to answer it. "Hello?"

"Alfred, it's Dad."

"Oh, hey, what're you calling for?"

"I need you to go to the supermarket to restock the fridge. Unfortunately, my work is going to run late tonight, and you guys are going to need dinner."

Al opened his mouth to speak when Arthur interrupted, "And no, you can't just get take-out. It's already four, so you should head out soon."

Sighing, he answered, "Okay, I'll go to the store. Bye." He hung up before his father could return the goodbye. Looking up at him attentively, Matthew was still indulging in the popsicle when Al informed him, "I have to go get food and stuff. Will you be okay by yourself?"

Nodding, Matt mentally sighed in relief. Sure, he didn't like being in the house alone because he felt paranoid and vulnerable when Alfred wasn't around, but he'd be able to suck the ice pop and jerk-off in peace.

"Okay, let me just find my keys and-" Al stopped mid-sentence, his eyes attracted to the front door. Through the small paneled windows, he saw a video camera, along with Elizaveta and Gilbert. "Argh, again?"

Knowing they'd been spotted, the "spies" tried to escape, but they were no match for Al's heroic speed. He tackled Gil to the ground, Eliz just out of his reach. She stopped to catch sight of her fallen comrade, who was swearing loudly in his capture.

"Why am I not surprised?" Alfred asked, a bit pissed that his friends liked to spy him. They'd videotaped Matt and him plenty of times, but this was first time they'd caught anything mildly sexy.

"Hey, get the fuck off!" Gilbert shouted, struggling to get out from Al's weight.

"Al, don't get your panties in a bunch," Eliz told him, making sure not to inform him that she was still taping. "Even though we went over the speed limit, the popsicle was already in Matt's mouth when we got here. Of course, I still have a great yaoi film in the making here, especially with that face you were making while watching him suck off."

Alfred blushed furiously, unsure of whatever expression he'd had, except that it had to be suggestive. He knew by now that there was no way to get her to delete her beloved footage, and he'd have to get over the fact that it would end up in some gay documentary she was making.

"Get off!" the albino continued to persist.

"Gil, I'll get off if you drive me to the store. Dad wants me to get food and I don't feel like finding out where the hell my keys went."

"Yeah, sure, whatever." True to his word, Al got off and let Gilbert brush himself off.

"Eliz, go inside and keep Matt company. And don't videotape him. He's got enough on his mind as it is."

"Yeah- you," she retorted playfully, but complied as she jumped up the porch steps. Entering the household, she found Matthew watching the doorway alertly, the popsicle in his hand. "Al and Gilbo are going to the store, so we're gonna spend some time together." She took a seat next to him and focused the camera on him. Who cared what Al said? "So how's it with you and Al? Are you dating? How did you feel sucking that popsicle? Did you wish it was him?"

Matthew attempted to shrink away from the intimidating lens. Aside from being bombarded with all of these embarrassing questions, now he wouldn't be able to get release for a while. "I-I guess…" he answered, bashfully averting his eyes.

"You guess what? That you're dating or that wish you were sucking him off instead?"

"I-I don't kn-know…"

"Oh come on, you can do better than that. Or maybe you'd rather he finally do you up the ass?" Surely, she was infringing on his privacy at this point, but he wasn't going to say no. And this was perfect documentation for future generations of fangirls. It had to be done.

Immediately, he cringed, shaking his head back and forth. "…No, no I don't want that…" He could entertain the thought of giving Alfred a blow job, since a part of him secretly wanted to, but not sex. All that did was revive the painful mental images of rape and use, even if he pictured Alfred in the place of all those filthy men.

Elizaveta sensed that she'd crossed into territory better left alone. Figuring she shouldn't continue this line of questioning, she turned off the camera. "Um, we can do this later, if you want."

"Yeah," Matthew agreed, trying to block out his sorrow. He began to suck the popsicle again, but it wasn't the same as before. Now, the bitter citrus taste only sickened him with the memories.

. . .

"Why are we at the Farmers' Market?" Gilbert complained as they walked through the open bazaar. "It's all vegetables and they don't have any shopping carts to ride around on. I wanted to ride a shopping cart!"

"Stop whining," Al demanded, although he also would've liked to ride a shopping cart. They were just so much fun! "Dad's trying to learn to cook better, and he likes the Farmers' Market because their vegetables are less expensive, so he can burn a lot more for the same price."

"Augh, but ol' Artie's not cooking tonight. You are!"

"Yeah, I know. Believe me, I'm still gonna order take-out. I have to make it look like I refilled the fridge, though."

Alfred may not have liked the food at the market, but he liked how open it was. There was a lot of space to move around, and it was fun to eavesdrop on others' conversations. Two people next to them were eyeing the greens.

"Like, look at this cucumber," the flamboyant blonde…guy told the other. "We should, like, totally put slices on our eyes like a facial."

"Oh, I don't know," the other wavered, and something about his shoulder-length brown hair caught Alfred's attention. He wasn't sure what was setting off the little bell in his head.

"Come on, Toris, it'll be totally awesome, like seriously to the max."

The boy's appearance clicked with the name, and Alfred's eyes widened in disbelief. He gaped at the boy, looking to Gilbert for confirmation. The albino's red eyes were just as large. Returning his attention to the brown-haired guy standing a few feet from him, he tried to form words. "…T-Toris?"

He turned around at the sound of his name, and Alfred saw the inquisitive blue eyes land on him. Dear God…this was Toris.