Warning: Homophobia! Language, UsxUk, mentions of past FrUk, fluff.

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't ask.

Author's notes: Sorry for the great absence, I had a major writers block on this story. I really didn't know where to go from here, I also kind of fell out of the fandom for a while. I'm back now, though I still won't be updating regularly because I'm going on exchange very soon. Hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter ^^.

Chapter 10:

In which relationships are mended.

~O~O~O~

He stands in the doorway, sighing as he runs one hand through those golden strands. A nervous tick, one that Arthur had long forgotten. Francis keeps his hand buried in his hair, long locks tumble through the gaps between his fingers like sand. It saddens Arthur that he had once been so familiar with the way his friend moves, the Frenchman's body language seems so foreign to him now. Arthur then remembers an other body, shifting against his back in the depths of the night. Warmth spreads through his fingers at the thought as he fumbles with the lock on his door.

"Arthur, what where you thinking?"

His back's turned towards Francis when the man first speaks and thus he cannot see the expression on the Frenchman's face. Though he can hear the waver in those words. When he finally brings up the courage to look Francis in the eyes, he can feel the age difference between them like a weight pressing on his shoulders. It annoys him.

"I can do whatever I want." He states defiantly.

This earns him a sad little smile. He suddenly notices how defeated Francis looks. The man normally takes such good care of himself. 'Maybe a bit too good.' Arthur thinks to himself. Now Francis looks like he hasn't shaven in at least two days, bags underline his eyes, his clothing looks like it was just thrown on. It makes Arthur hesitate a bit.

"Arthur…" Francis' voice is soft but strict, like a parent. A tone the Englishman would have never thought he would hear from the frog of all people "Arthur, Arthur… are you messing around with L'Amérique?"

Francis has this weird habit of giving people nicknames according to their country of origin. It was something that had started very early in their childhood. Arthur never understood why Francis did this, but after a while it started to grow on him. Just an other one of those quirks that always pulled at his heartstrings. Francis takes Arthur's silence as an affirmation and frowns.

"Oh, mon Dieu Aides-nous." He mumbles as he rubs his eyes, like he is wishing the world would go away. "Je m'excuse, for taking advantage of you back then. I probably set the wrong example."

Francis didn't dare to look him in the eye, opting instead to seat himself quietly on the couch. Arthur takes a few steps back, leans against one of the pillows and sighs.

"You know, I should actually thank you. If it wasn't for you I would have never figured out who I truly am. Before you, I just kept denying a significant part of myself. I don't think I would be who I am today if it wasn't for you."

Francis' mouth twitched a bit at this "Non you would still be filthy rich and live in a mansion with servants at your beck and call."

Francis' half smile turned into a full blown smirk as Arthur slid down to poke him in his sides. "You know that's not what I meant!" The Brit said as he bumped his shoulder against the frog "I mean that if it weren't for you I wouldn't have been this…happy with myself."

Francis quirked an eyebrow, making Arthur's scowl fall back in place "You didn't just come by to apologise, did you frog?"

"Ah non." the Frenchman replied as he fished a piece of paper out of his pocked "Angleterre, are you still looking for a job?"

~O~O~O~

It was getting dark by the time Alfred reached the house. He had taken a bit of a detour on his way home… alright a lot of detours, but he just didn't wanted to be confronted by Mattie and his endless questions. Alfred had managed to avoid him all day at school. He could hear him now: 'So you spend the night at a 'friend's house'?' 'How was it?' 'Was he/she a good kisser?' Alfred blushed a bit as he realised that yes, according to his past experiences, Arthur was a good kisser. Alfred was fully prepared for his lil bro's cross-hearing when he opened the door. What he didn't expect was total silence and the smell of meatloaf cooking in the oven.

'Oh god.' Alfred mentally groaned as he walked into the dining area to see his dad, stepmom and a very quiet, hunched-over version of his brother. His parents had their patented fake toothpaste-commercial-smiles on, which generally meant that his brother and mommy dear had a fallout.

"Sit down sweetie." His stepmom said as she moved to get the meatloaf out of the oven. Alfred reluctantly took his place at the table. His brother flashed him a quick smile, but Alfred knew that look in his eyes.

"So how was practice this Saturday son?" His father said as he leaned his big muscled arms on the table.

Alfred was busy staring a hole into the ebony wood as he replied "Great! I mean definitely uneventful, but yeah, really good."

'No that was totally not wierd at all.' Alfred's inner voice remarked, it sounded suspiciously like a certain Brit. Only Mattie seemed to notice Alfred's miniature panic attack though, his father was already distracted by the food on his plate.

"Can I be excused?" He asked as he put his fork down after a few bites.

"You need to eat more hon, how else are you going to get yourself a nice girlfriend?" their stepmom's comment was supposed to sound casual, but to Alfred it felt like she had just activated a tripwire. His brother's gaze could have melted the icecaps single-handedly, but just as Mattie was about to snap their father loudly announced that he was up for seconds. Alfred tried to catch his bother's eyes, but Matt ignored him.

Later that evening Alfred snuck into his brother's bedroom and let Mattie vent his anger on him. Afterwards they leaned against each other on the beanbag in front of the Matt's TV.

"You know…" Matt said "I figured out you liked boys when we started watching those re-runs from Saved by the Bell. You had the biggest crush on Zack."

"Did not!" Alfred sputtered as he threw a pillow at Mattie. This only made his brother laugh.

"Did too! You used to growl every time he and Kelly got back together!" The pillow was returned to Alfred with full force. Who then grabbed his brother and proceeded to tickle him to death.

"Ok! Ok! Enough!" Mattie gasped "I still need to be able to breathe, eh? … Alfred?"

"I hate this." Alfred replied, a dark look came over him "That they're still trying to be the perfect family." He rolled of Mattie to lie down next to him.

Matt sighed and they continued to stare at the ceiling for a while. Fluorescent stickers of the planets and stars glowed dimly above them, a reminder of the time when he and Matt still shared this bedroom.

"They're just in denial, Alfred. Like you where. They had a certain view of you, dreams and expectations and suddenly you won't be able to fulfil those anymore. That's what scares them, they don't know what to expect from you."

"It shouldn't be any of their business." Alfred grumbled as he felt that familiar pit in his stomach.

"If only things where that simple."

Matthew slowly moved to hug Alfred, who let himself get pulled into it. For the first time in a while Alfred felt like there was something watching over them, even if it where just his plastic stars.

~O~O~O~

Author's notes: After all this drama I was in the mood for something else, so I thought this was perfect timing for some brotherly bonding.

French:

L'Amérique - America

Oh, mon Dieu Aides-nous. - Oh, my God aid us. (/ help us)

Je m'excuse - I'm sorry/ I apologise

Angleterre - England