After a few nerve-wrecking weeks of nail-biting, studying, freaking out and having no social life whatsoever, the final exams were off to a start. They had English for a starter, which was not a problem in any way for most. Then a day off, and then Maths and Arts, another day off, and Chemistry on a Friday. Week one was nothing to be afraid of. What Matthew really dreaded was the week after that: Physics.
The Wednesday before the Physics exam, Abel dropped by to go through the entire book one more time. He had agreed to do that on the condition that Matthew would take the rest of the day off to get his head back together. They'd hang out in the city afterwards and have some time to relax. The weather was very nice, so there was no reason not to.
The two walked the crowded street of Brussels, hand in hand since Abel insisted, and Matthew couldn't help but feeling a tiny bit looked at. There were quite a few people their age taking the advice to take some time for themselves the day before their exams and right after. The others were either mothers with very young children or very old people. And when looking around, Matthew very clearly noticed the occasional strange looks they got.
Abel made it rather obvious he really didn't give a shit (as usual), whereas Matthew did consider other people's feelings.
Luckily, the park around that time of day wasn't nearly as crowded, making it a nice quiet place to sit down, talk and forget about the world.
"So what are you going to do next year?" Matthew asked.
"Civil Engineering across the border." Abel answered, toying with that one strand of Matthew's hair that always refused to lay flat.
"Going back home, are you?"
"Sort of. It's a few kilometres north of where I used to live, but yeah. Going back to good old, cold, rainy, populated with stingy little bastards, Nederland."
"That's not exactly a way of selling your country."
"It was enough selling for Luds and Gil."
"They're going with you?"
"Yup. Moving across the border alone would be boring. What about your plans?"
"I'm gonna study Medicine. But I'm staying in Brussels, so that's gonna be lonely."
"Don't worry, Matty." Abel said, kissed his temple a few times to reassure him. "I'm staying here until I've got a room there. And that might take a year or two, or three." He backed his words up with a tight hug around the shoulders.
Matthew laughed. "Sounds like you're really eager to find a room."
"Duh. I wouldn't want to leave my snuggle-bunnies alone."
"Your snuggle…bunnies?"
"Yeah, Vlekje, Snoetje, Nijntje and the biggest, most huggable and snugly of them all, Matty."
Matthew weakly slapped his shoulder, laughing very quietly and not protesting against being kissed. Not at all. Even though they had done this many times before, every kiss they shared was another small special moment.
Without even thinking, Matthew parted his lips, somewhat hesitantly, but he didn't pull away when he felt Abel's tongue carefully against his own. It was only shy touching at first, but soon after, it became gentle stroking and cheeky experimenting. It felt a bit strange, but also…soft. Much softer and gentler than he'd expected.
Light tingles spread through every inch of his body, giving his cheeks a deep red glow and making his chest feel pleasantly tight.
He became a bit light-headed, even, or was that just his mind fluttering?
After three hours of sitting in the exam hall, Matthew's legs were stiff and his back felt extremely uncomfortable. It was such a relief to finally walk out of the school's gym. It was time to go home again. He was strangely glad there weren't any seats left on the bus, because his back was killing him from those uncomfortable wooden chairs, and he was sure he wouldn't be able to sit for a week. When he'd get home, he'd take a nice warm bath to shake all the stress from the past weeks away and finally relax. He'd only have one more exam, and that was French. And if there was one subject he could do blindfolded, it was French. Think about the relaxing bath, he told himself.
Unfortunately, his father had to spoil his plans the moment he got home. "Ah, Matthew, you're here too. Sit down." Jonathan said in a serious tone from his spot in the arm chair.
Alfred was already in the living room, but also he didn't know what was going on. Either way, it wasn't hard to notice that whatever the news was, it wasn't pleasant. Matthew sat down next to Alfred.
"In the past few weeks, you may have noticed things have been a bit chaotic around here. The reason for that is..." Their father paused to find his words. "The main office has decided to retreat from a few locations on this continent because of the economic crisis. One of those…is the location here in Belgium."
"So you're fired?!" Alfred shouted mild panic.
"No, no, I'm not fired. I've managed to keep my job, but it means I've been transferred back to the main office in Ottawa. In other words: we're moving back."
Matthew took a few seconds to tell himself what that meant. Moving back. To Canada. Back home.
No, it wouldn't quite reach him yet. It was a little too surreal.
"Okay." Alfred whispered next to him, his voice for once not loud and energetic but soft, broken and bitter. It wasn't a comment to let everyone know he agreed, because he didn't. It was a comment to tell himself the message came across, that he had heard it right.
That was the moment the message finally reached Matthew as well. And it hurt. A lot. It felt like someone had opened up his chest and just punched him straight in the heart.
"Can't we move out?" Matthew asked out of the blue. His voice was louder and clearer than he had anticipated after the long silence, and everyone looked at him. It made him shrink back into the couch a little. "You know, Al and I moving out so we can stay here to go to University?" He asked, very carefully as though he was saying something completely bonkers. In a way, he was. What 17-year-old would move out and live and ocean away from his parents?
"We've looked at that, we really did." Ellen said. "But for that to get done we should've started the searching and the paperwork about half a year ago, if not longer."
"Then why didn't you?"
"If I'd known this would happen, I would have." Jonathan assured them. "I didn't have a clue either until a week ago."
"Why didn't you tell a week ago?!" Alfred snapped.
"I didn't want to bother you guys with this until your exams were over. There's no need to stress you out more than you already are."
"I've still got French tomorrow." Matthew said with a knot in his throat so big, that his voice came out as a strangled squeak. Seconds after, Alfred stood up without saying a word, left the room and slammed the door so hard the windows were shaking in their sills. He stomped upstairs, where he also slammed his bedroom door. Within that same second, they could hear him shouting and throwing things around his room.
Matthew tried to think of something to say to break the listening to his brother throwing a temper-tantrum, but he couldn't even get one word into his head. With a deep sigh, also he stood up and left to his room where he collapsed onto his bed in defeat. He tossed his glasses aside and stared at the ceiling that was now a big white blur.
And finally it actually sank in: They were moving back to Canada.
When he was nine and his parents had enthusiastically announced that they'd be moving to the United States, he'd cried every second he was alone. Just not to let anyone know how much he didn't want to. Alfred was over the moon about it, so Matthew had pretended to be as well while it fact, he swore he'd be the happiest man in the world the day they'd go back home.
Imagine the hopes he got when the surprise came three years later that they were moving again.
And imagine the disappointment he felt when it was revealed that not Canada, but Belgium was their destination. And again, Matthew had been as reluctant as Alfred was excited.
All these years, he'd had the idea that all he wanted was moving back to their small, cramped, but always homey apartment in Ottawa where he'd spent the first nine years of his life. Until he'd spent a few years in Brussels. Until he'd made actual friends for the first time in his life. Their parents had told them that it was only for a while, and that they'd have to go back after two years. Which became three. And four. And even six. Based on that, they'd sort of taken living in Belgium for granted.
And now his wish to move back came true, at the worst time possible. All the joy he should probably be feeling seemed to disappear into the background as the only thing he could think about was the fact he'd be leaving his friends here behind. Leaving Abel behind and probably hardly ever seeing him again.
After French that day, he went straight home and dropped himself onto his bed. It was finally over. There was time to calm down and forget the stress of the past year. It seemed a bit strange, though. It was over so quickly. He'd been nervous, dreading this moment for weeks and weeks, but the exams themselves had passed in a heartbeat.
He only had a few minutes to think about that, before his mobile phone rang. The chorus of All to Myself by Marianas Trench. That meant Abel was calling. "Hey, sweetie."
"Hey, Matty. How did your French exam go?"
"Well enough. Eight, at least. I think."
"That's more than 'well enough', that's super!"
Matthew shifted nervously in his spot. Despite being with Abel for more than eight months and being showered with compliments, he still wasn't used to them. "How did Chemistry go?"
"I don't know. I'm not sure."
"Did you get the question with the chromatography?"
"I think so. Was it supposed to be 3,3,4 methyl-octane acid?"
"3,3,4 Trimethyl-octane acid."
"Shit. I keep forgetting that. And what about Physics, Matty? How'd that go?"
Of course he'd ask about Physics. They had spent hours trying to get him to understand the stuff, and there was always something he didn't get or he would miss. "Not sure. I got question five wrong all the way. I got 10,8 Tesla."
"Yeah, that's not right. If you want to build a magnet like that, fine, but inform entire Europe beforehand that they'll be stuck without electricity for a while, will you? But ugh, my brain is dead now." He sighed, and Matthew could hear the dread through the phone.
"Can we meet at your place tomorrow? We need to talk."
Abel paused. The choice of words was worrying, to say at least. The last time he'd heard those words coming from Matthew's mouth, it was about ten seconds before breaking up with him. "Sure. Around twelve? I'm not sure if I'll be out of my bed any earlier."
"Sure. Bye."
"Bye."
Matthew sighed after he had hung up. Surely Abel would spend this night going out drinking with his friends. Those guys never returned before two in the night, so he'd probably be out cold in his bed until twelve.
Indeed, the next day when Matthew rang the doorbell and Judithe let him in, Abel was just busy dragging himself off the stairs in his pyjama trousers and with his messy hair down. Matthew couldn't resist a snigger at the sight.
"Good morning, Sleepyhead."
"Huh? Whu-Oh. Morning Matty." He weakly responded. Okay, he had a hangover alright.
Judithe didn't seem to approve of his manners. "Abel, you swine! Get back to your room and get dressed!" She snapped.
"Nah, Matty doesn't mind. Right?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Of course I don't mind having to stare at your bare chest the entire time."
"Ugh, okay. Fine." He ran upstairs again and came back later, fully dressed with his hair in the normal gravity-defying spikes.
"Second chance, Cutie." Matthew announced and hugged him. "Good morning."
"Morning, Matty." He weakly responded, his words muffled into Matthew's shoulder. He was clearly tired from the previous night. He nearly dozed off on Matthew's shoulder and couldn't even begin to think about protesting against being called cute.
"How late was it?"
"Six." He grunted, and Matthew patted his head. "Careful, it's still wet."
Matthew chuckled and let him go. "I don't get how you get your hair to stick up like that in the first place."
"Well, erm…Hair gel. Lots of hair gel. And hairspray. Tons of hairspray."
"Abel!" Judithe screamed from upstairs. "Have you used all my hairspray for that ridiculous porcupine-hair of yours again?!"
Abel pouted innocently, looking around with the biggest shimmery eyes he had ever managed.
"Noooo?" He responded, to which Judithe threw a towel off the stairs, straight into her younger twin's face.
"You're horrible!" She shrieked.
Much to Matthew's surprise, Abel's hair had survived that towel-attack. "How much hair gel?"
"Enough to beat her and my mother summed up in monthly expenses of hair products." In other words: He was stingy with everything, except his hair.
The couple took their favourite spot on the couch. For a change, Matthew wasn't the one using the other as a pillow. It was Abel this time who lay down with his legs dangling over the armrest and resting his head on his boyfriend's lap.
Matthew smiled down at him, stroking his chest in slow circular patterns. He felt that somewhat bony chest slowly rising and falling under his hand. If only he could be meek like this a little more often. It was a welcome change, and he was so adorable looking like he was about to doze off.
He leaned down and softly kissed his forehead, right on the scar above his eyebrow. In reaction, Abel shifted a little and put both his hands on Matthew's.
While Matthew had actually come here to tell him he would be moving away, he just couldn't bring himself to break the peaceful state his boyfriend was in.
Still, Matthew himself wasn't all that peaceful, and that didn't go unnoticed.
Abel lazily tucked Matthew's hair behind his ear and stroked his neck with just the tips of his fingers.
"Hmm. What's bothering you, liefje?"
Matthew was afraid to answer.
"Hey." Abel sat up again. "Matty, what was it you needed to tell me?"
It took a few good beep breaths and a hard swallow to get himself to speak up. Why was this so hard?
"The company my father works at had to cut back on foreign branches, and he is transferred back to the main office..." Matthew had to force himself harder with every word he spoke. "in Ottawa. And Al and I have to move there with them."
Abel didn't immediately respond. Also he needed some time to let it sink in before he got it clear. He didn't look at Matthew.
"You're going back home, hm?" He finally asked, in a very neutral tone, but his thumb starting to draw small circles on the back of Matthew's hand betrayed that he was anything but.
"Yeah, we are." Matthew sighed. How he hated having to tell him this. He hated it so much. "Though I have to say I've got some mixed feelings about it."
"So do I."
"When will you be leaving?"
"The morning after the gala."
"So soon?" The words sounded incredibly pained.
Matthew felt terrible for him. He was painfully aware of how much impact this would have on their relationship. Things weren't going to get easy, but they'd manage with just the weeks off, right? They'd pay each other a visit of multiple weeks a year and stay in contact through e-mail and phone calls. Right?
It wasn't anything to look forward to, but better than no contact at all.
Abel hugged him around his shoulders and pulled him back as closely to his chest as he possibly could. That alone told Matthew more than a thousand words could. He was afraid to let go.
Trying to be at least a little comforting, Matthew leaned back against his boyfriend and stroked his forearms. "I know." He whispered, right at the moment Abel pressed a kiss to his cheek.
~o~o~o~
I'm sorry, you guys. I suck at fluff, and especially kisses. Please don't start a witch hunt on me?
Liefje = Little love/sweetheart.
Yes, it's time to break the happy couples apart. Muhahaha!
Please review?
