(A/N: I can't even explain to you guys how much I wanted to cry while writing this chapter. I had "Run" by Snow Patrol on repeat practically the whole time. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this installment, and I'll see you all next week!)
CHAPTER XI
Matthew waved Toris goodbye for the night, the Lithuanian leaving with Feliks after a hearty celebration. The friends had spent hours partying, popping sodas and pizza and just enjoying life. Elizaveta and Gilbert had to leave early, so there had only been four of them for the rest of the evening. It was past nine at this point, and the two figured it was time to head home.
Closing the door, the Canadian looked to Alfred, sprawled out on the couch with a blanket lazily thrown over him. He was surprisingly tired, not that Matthew wasn't. After all, it had been a long and eventful day. The boy gazed fervidly at the fire in the hearth before slowly walking toward the couch. With hesitation, Matt poked the other's shoulder, catching his attention. "Sorry, can you move over a bit?"
"Huh?" Al groggily mumbled. "Oh, oh sure." He sat up on the sofa and scooted over to make room. His friend sat down, sharing the blanket with Alfred as he gripped his knees in apprehension. Matt knew that the other was tired, but he wanted to get this off his chest before morning came.
"S-So…" he began, incredibly nervous, "we found Toris."
Alfred felt the words pierce his heart, his mind now fully awake. How much he'd dreaded this conversation, but it was bound to come up eventually. His aching spirit begged him to defer it, a request he wished he could grant, but knew he couldn't. He would just have to be strong and prepare himself for the separation that would come as a result of this reunion, ironically enough.
"…I know that you- you made a deal with your dad about…this…about what would happen when we found Toris."
"Y-Yeah," Al replied weakly, his determination already fleeting, "we did."
"I'm sorry, but…I can't go through with it."
The American's eyes widened at the revelation, unsure if he had heard the boy right. He stared at Matthew, who was uneasily wringing his hands, focused on the floor. "E-Even if Toris wasn't going to stay with Feliks, I- I just can't leave. I-I…I care about you t-too much. I don't- don't know if it's…l-love, but it's so- so strong and I can't just…ignore it. I don't want to ever l-leave you-"
"I don't want you to leave either," Al declared, the words bursting from his mouth before he could even think. This time, Matthew looked to him, then to his hand as the other entwined their fingers. "…Wh-When I said that you could start life over w-with me, I-I meant it. I-I argued so hard with Dad to let you stay when you decided to stop looking for Toris. I mean it- it wasn't like he was going to throw you out; it's just he didn't know what to do, and everything just felt so crazy and… The point is…I l-love you, Matt, and I want you to stay."
Matthew gazed at him, the one he'd craved now belonging to him. His heart let itself be vulnerable, and he pondered how it'd once feared Alfred, afraid of his mere open touch. Now, that fear had disappeared and been replaced with trusting love as he inched forward. Alfred followed suit, mirroring the other in edging closer. Ever so slowly, their lips brushed together in a feathery kiss, soon leading into something much deeper.
The Canadian wrapped his arms around Alfred's neck, taking control in the lip work. He was more experienced, although it burned him to think of why that was, so he pushed the thought away and focused on his bliss.
As the two became more and more enraptured in the caress of their lips, Matthew felt his sexual withdrawal coming back to overtake him. He couldn't ignore the heat that struck him, but his mind called out, warning him not to force himself onto the other. It was so hard not to just start grinding against him.
At the same time, Alfred was telling himself the same thing, finding it more difficult to resist the Canadian with each second that passed. His own form of the heat was enveloping him, fueled by his passion for Matthew.
When the two finally pulled their lips away, they were both out of breath, panting hard. A trembling hand placed itself on Alfred's thigh, its owner's face flushed and amorous. "I…" Matthew began, his breath labored, "I don't think I can- can handle the…tension between us."
"I don't think I…I can either," Alfred agreed breathlessly, his arms around the other's waist.
Fixing their eyes on at each other, the two acknowledged their mutual desire.
"…I've never b-been with someone," Alfred confessed, averting his eyes nervously. He glanced back to the boy, who smiled sadly at him. "What is it?"
"…I like that," Matt explained. "You're so…pure."
"Matt," Al addressed him, lightly kissing his lips, "you're pure. Your heart is so pure, and that's what matters."
Matthew took in the words, captivated by Alfred's sincere voice. Resting his head in the crook of the American's neck, he began to tug off his lover's jacket.
"D-Do we need…protection and, uh, lube?" Al asked, blushing profusely as he helped pull his wrists out the sleeves.
"…He, he always made sure the clients were clean and used a condom, and he had us regularly tested just in case. But…then…those guys who…raped me…"
"But that was like, a month and a half ago, right? Don't you think if you caught anything it would've shown up by now? And didn't Dad take you to get tested after we…found out, and you were clean?"
"I…I know, but…I'd still feel better if you used protection, just to be safe. Besides, it's just so much cleaner since the…stuff doesn't…get everywhere and…stuff, so get one for me, too. And, uh, we should use lube so that it's not so…rough."
"R-Right," Al agreed, not wanting to hurt his lover.
"Do you have anything?"
Taking a second to think, Alfred replied, "I don't, but my dad might. I don't really know how far he is in his relationship with Francis. I can check, and if not, I could try and find my keys to run to the store. But, um, I, augh." It was so difficult to speak to him without getting his tongue twisted.
"What?" the Canadian inquired, confused as to what the other was getting at.
"It's just…I know that I want to do this, but…are you sure you want to? I mean, with…you know…your past…"
Matthew smiled sweetly, his history receding from his mind. It was strange to him, too: somehow, he felt confident in this; in control of how the past would affect him. Hours before, it had haunted him with pain. But now he felt strength, as if he wouldn't let his previous use get the better of him.
He answered with something he'd never felt in any instance involving sex before: "I want this."
"O-Okay," Alfred affirmed it, nodding his head as he got up from the sofa to search for supplies. Trotting up the stairs and down the hallway, he entered his father's room, trying to figure out where he would put such materials, and if he even had any. Maybe they're in the bathroom, he thought, making his way onto the tiled floor. The American ransacked his dad's drawers, finding a suspicious black bag. He pulled the zipper open, revealing a plentiful amount of condoms and bottles of lubricant.
A bout of shock hit him, acknowledging that his dad was sleeping with someone, and it could only be one person. "Well," Al spoke to himself as he picked out two condoms, "they don't call it the 'French letter' for nothing." After also taking a lube bottle, he zipped the bag back up and lazily threw it into his father's drawer, closing them all.
On his way down, Alfred turned off every light, including those on the first level, so that the only source of luminosity was the crackling fireplace. That was only if you didn't count the moon, but he drew every curtain to shroud their session from its radiance. He climbed back onto the couch, where Matthew was waiting patiently. "Dad to the rescue," Al joked, laying out the supplies on the side. Inside though, he was shaking with the knowledge of what they were going to do, having trouble believing a situation that seemed so surreal.
"Speaking of your dad, did he ever say when he'd be back?"
"He just said late. He'd call if he was coming home now or before ten, so we have time."
"…We'll probably be too tired to get up afterward. Will he see us?"
"I bet he'll be too tired to notice, and the fire should be out by then."
"Then…" the Canadian began, lying back on the sofa, "shall we start life over?"
Alfred nodded, leaning over Matt as he asserted, "Let's be recalled to life."
"Ah, you've been reading Dickens."
"A Tale of Two Cities. I had to read it during freshman year."
The boy smiled up at him with warm affection. "…Recalled to life…I like that expression."
Matthew raised him arms, letting Alfred tug off his sweatshirt for him, dragging the t-shirt up with it. He pulled off his lover's shirt in return, revealing the slightly toned torso. Both were only in their jeans, and Matthew suggestively raised his spread hips off the couch. "You can t-take them off," he offered, wanting Alfred's hands all over him.
Al obliged, his fingers fumbling with the zipper as the other let out a satisfied sigh when he finally undid it. Awkwardly pulling off the jeans, his mind took delight in the arousal perking up from his lover's boxers.
Taking one of Matthew's hands, Al led it to his own jeans, groaning when his own erection was released from the denim constraints. Fingers teased each other's waistbands, pulled down at nearly the same rate so that they were fully exposed. The last time Alfred had seen the other naked was the first day they met, when he'd cleansed his soiled skin. That simple awareness caused the American to shudder slightly, with Matthew gripping his hand and whispering calming words.
Finding stability in his lover's voice, Alfred smoothed his trembling hands across Matthew's chest, brushing over his nipples. He occasionally tweaked the pink buds, addicted to the Canadian's quiet squeaks as the pinches sent electric jolts down his spine.
In a daring move, Al bent down to Matt's neck, kissing and putting pressure on the tender skin. He was rewarded with delectable whimpers.
"Aaaaahn, Alfred," Matt moaned, finally understanding why they were called love marks as the American suckled his neckline. "Ah, A-Alfred…"
The sound of his name on Matthew's lips was driving him over the edge, and he moved down to ravage his collarbone. Shifting beneath him, Matt caused their cocks to rub together, both groaning at the contact.
"A-Al," the Canadian breathed, "y-you can start."
"St-Start?"
"You know, pr-preparing me."
"O-Oh, right," Alfred stated, his heart pounding uneasily. As he reached for the bottle of lubricant, he realized in dismay that he didn't really know how to prepare him.
The expression on his face must have explained it all, for Matthew said, "Here, let me show you." Taking the bottle from him, Matt squeezed some gel onto his fingers, kneading them together.
Alfred observed intensely as his lover circled around his anus for a few seconds before slowly pushing his index finger in. "Unh," Matthew grunted softly as he pressed inside as far as he could. After a month and a half without any use, his hole was pretty tight, but it would loosen up soon. "Y-You see," he explained, "you just…push it in and wait for me to get used to it. When I'm ready, you put in another one and start stretching me out. Usually you put in three fingers and then…the real deal. Okay?"
"Y-Yeah," Al answered, watching anxiously as the other pulled out his finger and handed him the lube. In the back of his mind, he realized fingering Matthew could pass any infections on to him, but again, the boy had been tested and proved clean. The Canadian was just paranoid, not that it was necessarily bad to be, but common sense was the predominant reasoning in this setting.
He imitated Matthew in warming up the gel between his fingers before cautiously pushing one in, surprised by the tautness. "Y-You okay?" he asked, looking at the mild discomfort on his lover's face.
"I-I'm fine," Matt murmured, nodding his head with closed eyes. "Just let me get u-used to it."
They waited about half a minute, while Matthew breathed deeply as the dull ache gradually became pleasurable. "O-Okay, p-put another in."
Al obliged, carefully pushing his middle finger inside as the Canadian mewled. After waiting a little, he started moving his digits apart, earning a sharp gasp from the boy. Matthew moaned as the fingers stretched his entrance, the feeling pleasant for once in his life. Anxious, Alfred inserted his third finger, causing his lover to utter a low, guttural groan.
"Ahhhn, ah, A-Al, ahhh." The boy started rocking against the digits, yearning to start the real work. Al shakily pulled them out, to which Matthew complained, and groped around to find the condoms. When he grasped them, he brought one to his mouth, deftly tearing off the wrapper with his teeth. Thanks to health class, he actually knew how to do this part.
He positioned the ring over Matthew's cock, pulling it down carefully to unravel the latex sheath. After pinching the tip so that it would collect his semen, Al ran his hand over the erection as Matt mewled in delight at the gentle strokes. In return, he sat up and took the other condom to put on his lover. With the latex gliding down Al's arousal, the American moaned, the feeling as if someone was wrapping his dick in a second skin.
As Matthew fondled him while haphazardly slathering on the lubricant, he inquired, "M-Matt, how do you, unhhh, want to d-do it?"
In response, the Canadian climbed onto his lover's lap, positioning himself above Alfred's cock. He figured it'd be easier on Al if he took control, since he was the one with experience. "R-Ready?" Matt asked.
Alfred nodded jerkily, mentally preparing himself for what was to come. Within seconds, his dick was enveloped in the tight warmth of his lover's ass, and he groaned at the hole contracting around him.
The moment Matthew was entered, panic overtook him, pain shooting up his spine and reminding him of all the agony he'd endured from being used. Overwhelmed, he began to cry, shaking uncontrollably as he dug his fingernails into Al's back. This was the exact opposite of what he'd wanted to experience in his first time with Alfred. Now, all he could focus on were the searing memories as he wept, his trembling legs wrapped tightly around his lover's torso.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Alfred apologized, running fingers through the sobbing boy's hair and making soothing circles in his back. "I-It must really hurt. I'm so sorry. I-I'll take it out if you want."
Matthew snapped back to reality, his watery violet eyes wide as he realized Al was concerned about him; worried he was hurting him. He found his resolve restored in the knowledge that Alfred loved him and would never want to harm him.
"N-No," Matt managed to make out through his sniffling, "i-its okay. It- It's just reminding me of b-back then. B-But I'm okay."
The American sighed in relief, asking, "S-So it doesn't hurt?"
"J-Just a little," Matt admitted, rubbing his eyes, "but I can h-handle it. Just give me s-some time."
Al let him adjust to the member inside of him, whispering words of love and massaging him. It was hard to ignore the tightness around his cock, but he was more concerned about Matthew's wellbeing.
After a few minutes, the Canadian lifted his head off of his lover's shoulder, wiping away the last of his tears. "O-Okay," he asserted, "l-let's start."
"Are you sure?" Al asked, not wanting to push him.
"Y-Yeah," Matt answered, starting a slow rock on Al's erection.
"Ahhhh, M-Matt- ahhn," the American sighed lustfully at the rhythm and the hole clenching around his dick. He kept the pace with his pelvis, afraid to speed it up.
"I-I'm no- ohhhh - n-not fra-fragile, A-Al- ahhhhn," Matthew moaned in the cadence of their hips. "Y-You can go f-f-faster- ahhh!"
Wanting to please his lover, Alfred complied, noticing his own sounds were getter louder as their tempo increased. He began thrusting into Matthew over and over to milk out those shameless moans, the other's cock repeatedly brushing against his stomach.
"Ohhh, ohhhhh, A-Alfred, Al- AH!"
Matthew saw stars, realizing his lover had hit his prostate. In all the times before that he'd been rammed there, there was only intense pain, but now it filled him with wanton pleasure. "A-Al, a-again!" he demanded, unable to stop the smile erupting onto his face. Submitting to his love's desire, Alfred thrust again and again, the cries of "Again!" filling the air every time. Matthew felt tears spring to his eyes, but they were of ecstasy. This was lovemaking; not sex or rape, but love.
The two's sounds increased with their rhythm, practically slapping their skin together in the now erratic thrusts. Alfred stroked his lover's length fervently as he wanted them to peak together. Never before had he felt so close to someone; so in love.
"A-Al!
"M-Matt!"
Waves of fleeting warmth washed over them, collecting in their abdomens until they came, their climactic cries within seconds of each other.
Out of breath and energy, they collapsed onto the couch, holding each other as their racing hearts calmed. Alfred pulled out of his lover, liking the strange squelching noise the movement made. He reached for a tissue, taking the condom off of his cock and wiping the cum off of his tip. Matthew imitated him, lazily throwing their used supplies on the floor.
They clung to each other, and Al pulled the light blanket over them. He turned on his side to face his lover, smiling tiredly in the afterglow. "Hey, Matt?"
"Hm?"
"Welcome to your new life."
Matthew grinned, cuddling close as they drifted off to sleep, the fire waning in the hearth until only dying embers remained.
Two men, two nationalities, two definitions of purity; one life begun anew.
