WARNNG: Scenarios depicting sex. (non-explicit)

"You freak!"
Alfred's words broke the otherwise silent air.
"Come on then! Fight me, if you want to touch me so fucking badly!"

Gilbert watched in the background, his lips tightly pressed into a line. He parted his mouth to speak but simply couldn't; it was too much to see Alfred on the brink of another outburst. What was he to do? He winced when he saw Alfred's fist connect with Yao's face. Not on Yao's behalf, however. He was feeling pity for Alfred. He'd spotted the signs throughout the day and was expecting something like this to happen…Yao just happened to fall into the target line.

First it started with the name. Gilbert was the only one who knew of course, but family was a sensitive subject to Alfred - Matthew, in particular, was the taboo word. Nobody was to speak of him, no matter how close they were to Alfred. It would never end well. Ever since he died...things just weren't the same. Matthew's name went from a thing of joy to a curse word. A reminder of how lonely his brother was without him.
As an effect, of course, Alfred would mask his emotions. This would come out in several ways – each to an extremity. It appeared that Alfred was trying his best to mask his inner sadness in the form of taking on an obnoxious mask.

He'd had enough of watching. He refused to see Alfred destroy himself. Swiftly, he moved towards the American, taking a firm grip on the man's arm and pulling him back. Their eyes connected, blue onto burgundy and the Alfred let out the softest of sighs in response. He gave up hope, letting go. Taking a brief glance down at Yao, he allowed Gilbert to pull him away and out of the school.

Gilbert walked in front until Alfred overtook him and strode on without a single word. He knew the way things were by now. Of course he did, how could he forget? But the thing was that Alfred was the one that could. It seemed that anger and grief had hidden benefits if he looked hard enough.

In Alfred's case, anyway.

*.*.*.*.*

Yao panted, gasping for breath as he stood to his feet. Just what had all of that been about?
The boy decided that he didn't want an answer, not now. It was safe to assume that Alfred had gone with Gilbert, probably not to their lessons like they should. That was a benefit, however. Alfred seemed to have a very impressionable personality, one that would rub off on others and cause them to act the same way as him. Maybe without Alfred's guidance, the other students would take it easy on him. Maybe.

As the boy washed his face of the blood that spilled from his nose - sadly, something he'd grown very accustomed to, even quite skilled at doing quickly, he couldn't help but let his thoughts fall back to Matthew and Alfred. Who was Matthew? A cousin? A best friend? Had he moved away? Something worse? It was certainly something to ponder.

He pushed the sticky, blood-stained hair from his cheeks to get a better look at himself. Yes, it seemed much better now. Acceptable enough to face lessons, anyway. He wondered what he had in store next, pulling the lesson guide from his pocket. Yao was quite aware that his hands were trembling when he noticed that he had Astronomy next. Late for Ivan.

"...And as you can see here, this is the star Polaris, otherwise known as the North Star. It is the brightest star in-"
Mr. Braginski was silenced by the painfully loud door opening. Yao trotted inside, his anxiety clear.
"Sit down, Yao." ordered the teacher, his voice as stern as it always was in the classroom. In fact, it was rather unsettling for it to change so much depending on where he was.

Throughout the lesson, Ivan remained with an air of professionalism around him. It was as if nothing had happened on Friday; that the two hadn't shared a late night coffee and spent hours speaking about their personal lives. Yao wasn't sure why he felt the creeping ache of jealousy in his chest, but he didn't like it one bit.

"Very well, class. You can go now. Except for Yao, I need a word with you." the Russian's tone remained cold, businesslike. What had Yao done wrong? The Chinese boy waited until the class was empty before he made his way over to the man, shaking in fear.

"Y-Yes?" he murmured solemnly. "I'm sorry that I was late, aru! I just-"
"That wasn't what I wanted to talk about." Ivan's voice was now sufficiently softer. A quick glance into his eyes would show easily that all of the indifference had melted from his face.
"I've been hearing a few...rumors."

*.*.*.*.*

"You and I…we….we aren't that different, are we?" murmured Alfred, his eyes not leaving the spiraled iron cage in front of him.
A budgie flitted about in, beady eyes darting everywhere inquisitively as if it could read the situation. It was a gift from Matthew, charmingly named Gilbird. In many ways, against a flurry of unspoken "I love you"s and memories so vivid that they belonged on a screen, it was all that Gilbert had in memory of the boy.

"I lost him. You lost him, too." Alfred continued, his hand reaching out to trace the budgie's home. Gilbert's eye twitched. Was he hearing things correctly? For once, Alfred had acknowledged how his friend felt out loud. That even though Matthew was his brother, it wasn't just him exclusively who was left empty and alone when he was gone.
"Yes." he replied shakily.
"You loved him just as much as I did, didn't you?"
Gilbert didn't answer that question. When his vision finally focused on the small, yellow animal inside its cage, Gilbert came to realise that his eyes were streaming with tears. He yanked his hand across his face, forcibly removing any evidence of his emotion. But it was too late; Alfred had already seen.

Alfred edged closer, one hand brushing against Gilbert's damp cheek.
"It isn't okay to cry. Stop." he growled.
The German wanted to laugh at Alfred's words. They were so typical of him, even in a situation like this. But still, he didn't respond.

And yet before he knew it, Alfred's lips were crushing against his. His eyes widened a fraction, taken aback and unsure. He edged back slightly, sweaty palms grasping against the carpet. A growl escaped Gilbert's throat as he shoved the blonde away.
"What the fuck?!" he snarled, face heating up in anger and shame.
Shame for feeling comforted by such a stupid action.
"What the fuck was that for?"

Alfred remained silent, rubbing his chest with the impact of Gilbert's shove. He simply stared blankly back at the cage like nothing had happened. He was numb already, he didn't care.
Gilbert scowled, fiercely wiping his lips. He felt sick, empty and wrong. But still...

"Do it again." he spoke quietly.
Silence.
"Did you not hear me? Do it a-"
Gilbert was hushed once more by Alfred's mouth, stiff and unmoving against his. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to think of something, anything other than what he was doing. Something to ease the pain, and he was sure that Alfred was doing the same thing. He allowed himself to fall back onto the carpet, breath hitching when the American pressed his body against his.

It wasn't romance, nor was it love. There was no lust in the action, no hidden desire buried beneath the touch. They were simply seeking comfort and solace in one another in the only way that words did not have to be used. Alfred's shaky hands moved to his belt, unbuckling it within seconds. He refused to look Gilbert in the eyes and Gilbert averted his own gaze in return, ashamed as he began to undress himself.

Perhaps if he squinted, Alfred's naked body could have been mistaken for what he imagined Matthew's to be. But the curl in his hair was the wrong way, and the shine to his skin was too dark to be the pale tone of Matthew's that was so familiar. It felt all wrong to be inside of him, but it was enough to ease the pain. Just enough.
His hands reached out to stroke Alfred's thighs, though he still refused to look at the squirming American beneath him.

"N-No." whispered Alfred in monotone. "Don't touch me. You don't have to touch me."
Gilbert nodded. He was right. Alfred had the same intentions as him. To fill the empty hole that was tearing him apart inside out at the thought of Matthew.

From below, Alfred screwed his eyes shut and tried to concentrate on how it felt. The sensations in his body were dulled completely by his own anguish; no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't make it feel any different. In fact, he could hardly feel it at all. It didn't even shock him that he was allowing Gilbert to be inside him in such a way. He wasn't gay. He just didn't want to feel empty. It didn't matter that Gilbert refused to look at him, that he was murmuring 'Matthew' as he thrust inside of him. It didn't matter that his gaze didn't leave the birdcage.

None of it mattered.

Eventually Gilbert found his release, silently and shamefully as he pulled out and placed his head in his hands. He turned to his friend after a short while, searching for words that he knew he'd never be able to say. Alfred did the talking for him.

"I'm going now."

He left Gilbert alone, his heart heavy and his mind littered with thoughts of Matthew.

*.*.*.*.*

Le Author's note~!

Firstly, a short apology! This chapter is more of a character development on Gilbert and Alfred's part. It is also not a PrUs fic. Just so that I don't confuse people, da?
This chapter was rather hard to write. It's a little different from the others and rather risqué compared to them. I hope that it isn't too bad. I will provide warnings in the future.

Next chapter: Upload date will probably be a week from now. There will be a lot less of Gilbert and Alfed and a lot more RoChu. I felt it necessary to capture a bit of the bullies' side of things. It will become clearer soon.

Thankyou to everybody who reads and reviews. I am writing this story for fans of the pairing and Hetalia in general, and I will only continue to write if I know that it makes you happy, remember!:3

Thanks for reading!