(A/N: Happy Easter! So, this story is starting to get heated up. If anyone thinks I need to move the rating up, I will.)

CHAPTER X

Matthew knew something was wrong. He'd known since the moment Alfred came down from the school roof's stairs, eyes red, but faking a smile for the sake of his brother. In the weeks that followed, it became more and more obvious. Gone was his confident, optimistic attitude, along with that beautiful smile. These traits only returned whenever Matthew entered the room, in the desire to assure him that everything was all right, disappearing right after he left.

He wasn't the only one to notice; their parents, their friends, even their teachers noticed the sudden change in Alfred's behavior. Every day, he dragged himself out of bed; didn't talk, smile, or laugh; only with Matthew. Al was actually focusing on schoolwork, using it to distance himself from whatever was upsetting him. Dad and Papa would look to each other, to their ailing son, and to Matthew, searching for answers no one had. The latter wasn't sure how long he could stand the stifling torment that plagued his brother. He had only seen him so dejected twice before: after the breakup with his girlfriend Jenna, and after his fallout with Ramón.

For days, he tried to convince Ramón to tell him what the conversation was about, knowing it was the cause of his brother's depression, but the Cuban refused.

"Why not?!" he'd shouted at him, aggravated as no one would tell him what was going on. Why did everyone insist on treating him like a child?

"I'm not at a liberty to repeat what we talked about to anyone, especially you," Ramón explained. "Look, I may hate the guy, but I said I'd keep my mouth shut, and that's what I intend to do."

"No! Don't! Don't intend! Please, just this once…" His violet eyes implored the Cuban to disclose what he was promising to conceal.

"Sorry, Matt, but I can't tell you."

Sighing and seeing as nothing was coming out of this approach, he attempted to get some information out of Yong Soo. Of course, this had to be the one time he actually followed directions and resisted eavesdropping.

When all else failed, he turned back to Alfred, desperate to ease his brother's misery. Matthew hated to see him like this. He missed the sparkle in his blue eyes, the flash of a genuine smile - all aspects of the confident persona now missing. No matter how hard Mattie tried to get his brother to confide in him, the American continued the façade. He put on that counterfeit grin Matthew detested so much and assured him there was nothing to worry about. It was as if Alfred didn't have any idea as to how much it hurt Matthew to see him suffer, when he didn't have to go through it alone. And if he did, he was purposely ignoring it in an effort to stop his brother from getting involved, for a reason the Canadian couldn't figure out.

As the earth was nearing the end of April, Matthew lay awake in the darkness, in only his boxers with the sheets pushed to the foot of the bed. The air was sweltering, and even with the window open, he couldn't find relief. Unable to fall asleep under the sultry conditions, he reminisced about the last few movie nights he'd shared with his brother.

They hadn't been the same, as Mattie was now the one who ended up clinging to his brother (which was somewhat difficult with his cast) and sneaking into his bed. Alfred's attention was never on the film for a single moment, and Matthew realized why the last time they'd carried out the tradition. Out of the corner of his eye, when Al probably thought he wasn't looking, he caught the boy staring at him with the most longing expression he'd ever seen. All he could surmise from that look was that Alfred was dying to unload his burdens onto Matthew, but he wouldn't allow it. If only Al knew how willing he was to let him.

Soon, light rapping sounded, and he turned his eyes to the door, already going through the elimination process in his head. It was a Thursday, and there wasn't a storm, so the only other option was that Alfred had a nightmare. His heart pounded with excitement, hoping that maybe his brother would finally open up about what was troubling him, and Matthew could alleviate the pain.

"…Mattie?" Al asked softly, and even in the faint moonlight, he could see the anguish in his brother's eyes.

"Did you have a nightmare?" He nodded, and Mattie couldn't help but smile sweetly as he patted the spot next to him. Alfred obliged and came forward, climbing up onto the bed. Matthew began shifting over onto his side to make room, only to be stopped by hands pinning him to the mattress.

Confused, he looked up nervously at Al, wondering what was going on. To his disbelief, Al lowered himself on top of him, resting his head on Matthew's bare chest. He found himself immobilized in the alarming situation, blushing as he realized both of them only had their boxers on. Wait, why was he even thinking about that? They were brothers!

"A-Al?" he stuttered, unsure what to think.

"Don't leave," Alfred muttered into his brother's chest, tears dripping onto the unclothed skin.

"Al, I'm not going anywhere," Matthew attempted to reason with him, rubbing his back with his right arm since his left was in the cast. Was this what had been bothering him? "You can get off."

"No. You'll leave if I do." Alfred shook his head to further express so, and his blonde hair grazed his brother's nipple. Matthew let out a little squeak at the contact, flushing harder at how he was reacting to such a simple touch. And Al was his brother! His brother!!

"N-No, I won't."

"Yes you will. You'll leave. You'll leave with him."

"Him?"

"Ramón," Al bitterly spat out the name.

So he was afraid Matthew was going to leave with the Cuban. Just what the hell was he babbling on about? "Don't tell me you're still upset that I'm friends with him. Honestly, why do you hate him so much?"

"…I don't want him to hurt you," he asserted, deliberately avoiding the question.

"He's not going to hurt me."

"He'll hurt you. He will. He doesn't care. He never cares."

"Al-"

"Just stay here," Alfred insisted, pulling himself up higher to rest his head in the crook of his brother's neck. Matthew's face flared up even more as hot breath met the sensitive flesh, unable to stop himself from letting out a quiet moan. His skin was gradually gaining in fervency, his nipples beginning to harden. Then, in horror, he realized they weren't the only things hardening. His brother was turning him on. …His brother was turning him on.

Al tensed up, and Matthew's face burned more than ever before in mortification. "…Are you hard?"

"H-How would I kn-know?!" he sputtered, realizing how ludicrous his flustered response was, in that he would have to know. Of course, Al could tell, likely because with the position they were in, that it was prodding him. Wait, from the way he was laying on top of Matthew, it would be prodding against his own…Ohhhhh; these thoughts were doing nothing to help control him.

"Well, something is poking me in the crotch, and I don't think you have a screwdriver down your pants."

"Uh, u-um, well, I do," Matthew lied, trying anything he could to get out of this predicament. Hopefully, Al was too tired to use common sense. Judging from the drowsy slurring of his words, that seemed to be true.

"What?"

"I have a screwdriver down my pants."

"…Why?"

"B-Because…I didn't want the maple syrup to get lonely." God, he'd never been good at improvisation, but this was pathetic. Oh well, he'd have to wing it for now and hope that Alfred bought it in his weary state.

"You also have a bottle of maple syrup down there?"

"N-No, just maple syrup. Spread over my, uh, thighs."

"…Can I lick it off?" he breathed into Matthew's neck, sending a pleasant shiver down his spine and rousing him further.

"Wh-What?! N-No! No, don't be stupid!"

"But it's sticky, right? Isn't it making you uncomfortable?"

There were several things making Matthew uncomfortable right now, but he tried to push them out of his mind. "No, I, uh, like it. I like the stickiness. It feels nice."

Alfred snickered softly, raising his head up from the nook of his brother's neck to smile up at him. Oh God, it was that genuine smile he'd coveted to see again for so long. However, the moment was broken once Al mumbled, "That's so kinky, Mattie."

Face flaring, he ordered, "Sh-Shut up and go to bed."

"Okay…" Al conceded, returning to Matthew's neck and nuzzling it a bit before drifting off. Soon, Matthew felt the rhythmic rising and falling of his brother's chest. Relieved, he took deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself. God, he'd just dodged the bullet there…and that was the problem. He shouldn't have needed to dodge that bullet in the first place.

Just recounting what had just happened was humiliating. He was so ashamed; it was as if his body had drifted away from him, unbound by the kosher laws. How excited he got from the simple contact of their skin…it was so wrong. Alfred was his brother, maybe not of blood relation, but it was still completely unacceptable to have that kind of reaction…and even worse to like it.

Oh, God. Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God, oh God, he'd liked it. He had since the moment Al pinned him down, although he didn't realize it at the time. And once his brother's breath danced on his skin, Matthew was absolutely craving it, secretly pleading for more and more inside his head.

…What exactly was it that he was craving: the physical intimacy between them, or the emotional? Either way, it was just plain wrong…but he wanted both. Finally, after weeks, he'd seen Alfred's authentic smile again, and that made him feel so…high. The whole situation had made him feel on cloud nine…but it was wrong.

But it felt right. Matthew liked how close he was to his brother, and he didn't want him to ever leave. He wanted to hold him, bathe with him, sleep with him; just anything he could to spend more time together. All because he loved him.

…That was it: he loved his brother. Loved him more and in different ways than one should love his brother, but loved him so nonetheless.

Matthew looked to his brother's sleeping face, his parted lips, wondering if such adoration could ever be right. As he bent down to steal a kiss in the night, he made his decision.

Yes, yes it was right.