Hi. It's been a while since the last update. (Again) I had problems with the chapter. And guess what...this thing has already 69 (haha) followers and 40 favourites. It's just...wow. This isn't even good, MapleTea isn't a popular pairing but still...wow. I have to thank you all for everything and stuff like that...*blush*I don't like the roll of this chapter too much, but it's necessary. EVERYTHING IS.

Other things, there will not be too many chapters after this. Maybe five, six at most. I have hard times coming up with new events, and writing them down becomes harder and harder. I have new ideas for fanfics that I am desperate to get to use, but I want to finish this thing first. There will be more MapleTea from me, I promise that! This fanfic has made me love it more than I could imagine, it's my second OTP. But anyways, onto the chapter.

"Ye look like shit", Alistair announced when he walked into the headmaster's office where there already were Arthur, the headmaster himself, Francis and Francis' father. He always had been oh-so-subtle...especially in the kind of situations where you had to be careful, for example picking up your younger brother from the school after he has been in a fight.

Oh, that happened to be now.

Jolly buggers.

Mr. Bonnefoy didn't even look at Alistair, nor did he look anywhere. He looked like he was bored to death, but no wonder. How many times had they been here because of Arthur and Francis fighting? No one remembered.

"Good day, Mr. Kirkland. Please sit down", Mr. Stein (nicknamed Legolas), their principal, motioned Alistair to sit on a green plastic chair next to Arthur, a stern look on his face. The redhead did what was told, and took his usual place between his brother and Mr. Bonnefoy. Arthur didn't look at him, he was too busy glaring at the table. His eye was black, and there were small scars on his other cheek, probably a scratch. Francis wasn't any better; his nose was larger than usually, and stains of blood were on his shirt. Mr. Stein began his speach, which had been heard too many times before.

"Mr. Kirkland and Mr. Bonnefoy, Arthur and Francis were caught fighting-"

"Again", the three men said simultaneously. Someone might have found it funny, but not them. It had lost its effect around the 7th time (which was ages ago).

"Yes, and as we all know", the headmaster glared at the two students, quiet yet murderous as ever, "fights are not allowed in this school, or any other. There will be consequinces if this rule is broken."

"Yeah, yeah, on we go. Just give the lads detention and that should do it for a while", Alistair said, earning a nasty look from Mr. Stein.

"Mr. Kirkland, we have to move on to bigger punishments than detention because that seems to have lost its effect on these two. If neither of you, or more likely both of you since you seem to be quite keen on each other, are seen fighting, you will be expelled."

Both Francis and Arthur flinched, lifting their eyes on the headmaster. Had they really gone this far?


"So whose fault was it this time?" Alistair asked almost non-chalantly and started the car. It answered with a coughy roar. Arthur remained silent.

"Come on, don't be such a lassie. Just spit it out and move on with yer life."

Still, no answer from the blonde. Alistair shook his head and reversed to get from the parking spot.

"It can't be that bad. Ye've fought so much ye'd think ye have ran out of reasons already. Was it the usual, Francis happened to look poofy?"

"Not the usual at all."

Ah, finally, a little bit of life. This was good, he was beginning to open up. Just a small push and that should do it.

"What was it then?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Ye have to."

"No I don't."

"But ye do. I am yer big brother, so ye must do what I say."

"That doesn't make any sense!"

"It does. Now shut up and tell mi what's wrong."

"I can't do both-"

"Ye know what I mean. Don't be such a bitch."

"I'm n-"

"Ye are, and that's final."

Arthur rolled his eyes. Talk about a supportive brother. He still refused to tell what was going on. Not that Alistair would give up that easily. He overtook a blue Ford, and returned to pestering Arthur.

"Was it about your mystery love?"

The younger one flinched, turning his head to see Alistair.

"How did you guess?" he asked, annoyance making his cheeks reddish. Alistair shrugged.

"It wasn't the usual", he said, and casually flipped the bird to the same Ford he had overtaken as it speeded past them. Arthur frowned and looked away flustered.

"So will ye now tell mi what happened or will I beat it out of ye?"

"How about this: I will not tell and you will shut up."

"Wasn't in the options."

"See if I care."

Silence fell to the car. Alistair stopped talking, but kept glancing to see Arthur's blushing face.

Of course, that annoyed Arthur greatly.

Curse on big siblings for knowing the perfect ways of annoying the shit out of your system.

"His name is Matthew."


Matthew knew it was going to be a hell to go to school after yesterday's incident.

He had expected to be stared, whispers surrounding him where ever he went, weird looks, being called "a poof", "fag", and that sort of things, his friends avoiding him, general awkwardness, possibly even physical violence. He had prepared for that; he could cope it. He had to cope it.

It turned out to be lot worse.

Instead of everything he had been dreading for, he met silence. Utter, unbreakable, perfect silence that seemed to form a barrier around him, muting everyone he passed. No "poofs", no "fags", no "want some dick in your ass".

Nothing.

Not even a single "hello".

It was eerie to hear everything so clearly. The air conditioning humming, the ruffling of the clothes, the ticking of the clock, the footsteps from across the room, the books moving in the backpacks, the breathing- every sound seemed to be so there, making Matthew shiver.

He knew exactly why the silence was there. Everyone thought Arthur was a batshit-crazy bastard who would beat the living shit out of them if they said something wrong. They thought Matthew would tell him if someone called him a fag. They were afraid.

Still, that did not stop them from staring him.

He didn't meet anyone's eyes, he was afraid of what he might find in them. Disgust. Hate. Amusement. Pity. Empathy. Relating. Jealousy? He didn't want to know. It sickened him. All he wanted from high school was to stay invisible, not gain a reputation as that someone of something. Now it had been flushed down the toilet.

Much like his lunch.

And breakfast.

And yesterday's dinner.

He had been vomiting a lot. The situation made him horribly anxious, and his body reacted by being sick whenever it could. Alfred had been questioning him if it was something else, his imagination running wild. Of course, Matthew had tried to calm him down, telling him it was just because of his nervousity, but the other twin wasn't easy to convince. He was sure Matthew was going to die because of some illness and there was nothing to do. Matthew had looked at his twin dryly and told him not to watch "Mystery Diagnosis" anymore.


"Hello Mattie", Arthur smiled, sitting on the trash where he had took Matthew weeks ago. The Canadian returned the smile and climbed next to his boyfriend. He pecked a soft kiss against the Briton's lips, earning a chuckle.

"How was school?" Arthur asked, a careful tone in his voice.

"Fine", Matthew uttered a hurried answer. It was a lie, both of them knew it. Neither wanted to speak about it, so they let the subject go.

"Want to go somewhere? I haven't got hockey practice today", he asked, kind of hoping for Arthur being busy. He wanted some time to think, process what was going on in peace. The same time, he wanted to be with the punk, to hear him say everything was allright and there was nothing to worry, things were going to be just fine.

Arthur hummed quietly, not looking at Matthew. Then he turned his eyes gaze on the Canadian, a ghost of a smirk on his face.

"How about this. We go to my place."


"Oi, Arthur! Come here for a sec."

Alistair was sitting in kitchen, trying to figure how to fix the toaster. Faint smell of smoke was in the air, due to unsuccessful attempt of making a breakfast. The redhead had a knife, which he was using to screw the toaster open. Arthur peeked out of the bathroom, a toothbrush in his mouth, and looked at his brother dryly.

"You're going to die if you try that."

"Am not, now gimme a hand and tell mi where I put the instructions of this damned thing", he growled and hit the toaster harsly.

"You burnt it."

"...of course."

"Was that all or is there something you actually wanted to say?"

"Aye, I'm going to visit a friend of mine in another town. It will take late, I might even stay for the night. So ye're alone here tonight."


Of course this was the perfect opportunity he had been waiting for. With Alistair gone, Arthur could actually spend some time with Matthew without the fear of someone seeing them. They could finally relax, no glancing around to see if someone from school was near, no hiding behind the bushes, nothing. Just being.

That was, of course, if Matthew said yes.

The Canadian had been awfully quiet for a few moments now, and that was growing a nervous root in Arthur's stomach. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea after yesterday's events, maybe the lad wanted some time for himself. Arthur was about to tell him they could do something else, when Matthew finally spoke.

"Why the hell not. Let's go."

We all know what you are thinking about the next chapter. I will not promise you anything...he, he, he.