Baaw, my house is cold and I'm hungry! ;A;

XXXX

"Quit being Alfred and get out of bed," Arthur ground out. After he had driven off in a rather sour mood, Arthur had enough time to think out what he was going to say to his old friend. Obviously he first was going to demand what happened after getting Francis to at least look at him.

The Frenchman simply replied by placing a pillow over his head. "Argh! Get! Up!" he demanded, stomping a foot on the floor. The mechanic continued to stubbornly keep the pillow over his head and Arthur soon had to stomp over and pry it off. "Francis, by God, what in bloody hell happened? It isn't like you to sulk!" he continued, furrowing his large eyebrows down at the college student.

"I am sick…" he muttered into the bed sheets.

"You are NOT sick!" Arthur exploded in a fit of intense irritation. "Sit up!" he then demanded and Francis reluctantly did so, sending the British pilot a sour look. "Now," he started with a sigh in an attempt to calm himself. "Tell me what happened."

"I saw Matthew with that guy," Francis started in a deadpan. Arthur nodded his head, having noticed that Matthew and Marco had been hanging out with each other quite a bit lately. "And I approached them—just for a friendly talk. When I said 'hi', Matthew flipped on me. Not sure why though," he shrugged his shoulders and Arthur nodded his head again. "I asked him why he got so angry and he told me to leave. I didn't of course, but when he got a bit angrier, I had to."

Arthur remembered how Matthew had flipped on Alfred as well out of seemingly nowhere—now on Francis? What was going on here? "And as I was leaving, I heard Matthew apologize to that guy about me interrupting their 'time together' as if I were some nuisance," Francis added, gaze falling to the ground as if weighed down by a ton of bricks.

"That's not like him," Arthur pointed out bluntly.

"Maybe he's tired of me."

"Belt up!" he irritation was rising again. Matthew and Francis weren't being themselves apparently. "You're not being you frog!" he said and Francis simply stared almost blankly up at him.

"Maybe I should leave him alone," Francis concluded, having refused to pick up the topic Arthur had started. Arthur pressed his lips into a thin line, holding his tongue for he had some pretty nasty words on the tip of it. Taking a deep breath in another attempt to cool himself, Arthur looked down at his friend.

"Nothing's going to happen if you don't do anything about it," he pointed out, all signs of irritation having vanished.

"Yeah, well Matthieu deserves to be with who he wants to be with," Francis muttered and Arthur refused to get angry again. Shaking his head, he decided that coming here was pointless other than getting the story out of Francis.

"Fine. I'll leave you alone too then," he said, back turned to Francis before he left the small room.

III

Even though it was lunchtime, Arthur felt like he could just go home and go back to sleep after returning from Francis's dorm. Stepping out of the truck that was dangerously low on fuel, Arthur sauntered wearily over to the hangar—being angry sapped quite a bit of energy from you. When he entered, the first thing he said was a demand. "Where's my phone?"

"Here…" Alfred grinned sheepishly, waving the phone in the air limply. "Uh…you don't look really happy with your results…" he added as Arthur snatched the device from his boyfriend's hand. "What happened anyways? I don't really think someone would be that angry at someone else for getting sick…"

"Matthew and Francis are having…complications," Arthur sighed. Furrowing his eyebrows and tilting his head to the side, Alfred asked what the problem was. "Matthew apparently freaked out on Francis when he was with Marco and demanded that Francis leave," he shook his head.

Alfred cocked an eyebrow. "Uh…that really doesn't sound like Mattie at all…"

"Yeah, well Francis isn't acting like himself either," Arthur huffed as he heaved himself on top of one of the crates. Ludwig approached the two, looking a bit curious.

"So…I believe it didn't go very well? What's wrong with him?" he asked, itching at the back of his head awkwardly, not exactly used to worrying about the French pilot giving his happy-go-lucky attitude.

"Oh just…relationship complications," Alfred answered, waving a hand in the air dismissively. "It's…complicated…" boy that sounded dumb. Ludwig nodded his head and sighed. "Hey Artie, I think I should go talk to Mattie because well…he's just being really weird right now," Alfred then suggested. "Where's my keys?"

Arthur fished out the keys and dropped them in Alfred's open palm with a 'you're low on gas' before leaning back on the crate. "But yeah, that does sound like a good idea—do it a bit later though, around dinner time maybe," he agreed. Alfred nodded his head, grinned and heaved himself up onto the crate as well, tugging Arthur closer to his side.

"I guess we all have out ups and downs eh?" he grinned at Arthur who sent him a look that clearly read 'do not mention it ever again—the crash'. Yao approached them, jumping onto the crates as well.

"What's up Arthur? You don't look very happy," he pointed out the obvious and Arthur could only roll his eyes. He didn't like repeating himself like stated earlier.

III

"Totally—ha, ha, awesome lock picking powers for the win," Alfred snickered as he shoved the door to Matthew's home open. Luckily for him, Matthew's home didn't have an alarm system though it really should giving how easily Alfred just got in. Thinking a bit more about it, Alfred hadn't been to Matthew's home in quite a while. "M'kay, where should I start? Mattie? Mattie—where are youu~?" he began trudging through the house, loudly calling for his cousin. He approached Matthew's bedroom door and knocked on it as loudly and obnoxiously as possible. "Mattie? You in there buddy?"

After a brief moment of nothing, he tried to handle to find it unlocked. "Hm, awesome conveniences at the right time powers for the win," he snickered to himself again before pushing the door wide open. Nobody was in the room at the moment…

Humming, Alfred furrowed his eyebrows and walked into the kitchen—Matthew normally was home for dinner unless he went out with…Marco…He grunted angrily at the thought and opened a cupboard, taking out a glass. Holding it out, he let it dangle for a moment before dropping it, the thing shattering into multiple pieces.

Nothing.

Matthew always came when Alfred broke something. He better not be with Marco, and with that, Alfred left the house without cleaning up the shattered glass. Pulling out his phone as he went down the steps that led to the front door, Alfred speed dialed Matthew's mobile. There were about two rings before the third was cut off. "H-hello?" Matthew's voice sounded broken and tired.

"Mattie! What happened?" Alfred demanded, immediately beginning to worry about his relative when he heard the tone of his voice. "Where are you? Why do you sound like that?" he continued to question as he quickly jumped into the driver's seat.

"…Fiftieth and France…well, pretty close. In an alley is all I know…" Matthew answered and Alfred immediately jumped to conclusions. Was Matthew mugged? Did Marco beat him or rape him? He better not have rapped his dear cousin because he might have to start a fight over that.

"Okay Mattie…I'm coming so just stay put," he ordered sternly as he drove off. It took quite a bit of driving since there were quite a bit of buildings to look in between since Matthew had said that he was in an alley. He hit the brakes, causing the person behind him to honk their horn in anger when he spotted someone sitting with their back propped up against the wall in an alley. The person that was behind him flipped him the bird as they drove by, but Alfred paid them no heed, immediately parking his rusting truck and jumping out without cutting the engine.

"Dude! What happened? Did Marco do this? I'm going to—"

"No Alfred! No, he didn't," Matthew hastily interrupted, shaking his head wildly. He was lacking his glasses and had quite a few of bruises and cuts that were likely caused by a switchblade. "I-I was with Marco…I think a bit east from here and, and these four guys started flirting with me 'cause they probably thought that I was a girl and…" he blushed as he said that, but Alfred didn't tease him. "And then…" he sniffed. "And then Marco got really angry at them and we all got into this huge fight…I got hurt, obviously, and when I managed to get away since Marco told me to…just as I was turning I corner I think I saw a few police arrive on the scene…Al…Al I think they all got arrested," he sniffed again, fighting the tears that were likely threatening to spill now.

Alfred knelt down and hugged his cousin close as Matthew continued to sniff and look like he was about to burst out in tears every now and then. "A-and I'm was a jerk to Francis yesterday…He looked really hurt when I told him to leave, I-I just thought that he was assuming things kind of like how you were trying to keep me away from Marco yesterday and, and—"

"Arthur told me that Francis said he'll start avoiding you or something along those lines…" he knew it was cruel to bust it to Matthew, but the guy needed to know what he had done. Alfred guiltily closed his eyes as his look alike relative started sobbing brokenly.

"A-Al, I-I've lost a friend to th-the law and now, and now…!"

"Come on, can you stand? Let's go to the hospital and get these things checked out…I'm no doctor," Alfred changed the subject in hopes of getting Matthew's mind off of his current troubles. "C'mon Mattie, you were always the smart one when I was having trouble with Artie…I never really imagined that this would happen with you and Francis," he continued, voice thick with concern. Bonerfoy clearly wasn't the proper thing to call Matthew's boyfriend at the moment. "Come on…I promise, you won't have to stay for a night—these don't look that bad…"

"I-I hate that place…" Matthew's voice was laced with misery and slight dread at the idea of going to the hospital once more—they've visited it so much lately. First when Arthur and Matthew got shot, then when Arthur crashed, when Alfred fought Ivan and now. He vaguely reminded himself that Francis had probably been there more since he broke his finger not too long ago—he also vaguely remembered Arthur telling him that Francis crashed when he was trying aerobatics.

"I told you, they don't look that bad, you probably won't even be there for more than three hours, now come on—can you stand?" he asked as he started to stand himself, one hand firmly gripping Matthew's in an attempt to tug him up with him.

"Yeah…I-I can stand…" Matthew muttered, voice barely over a whisper and it reminded Alfred of when Matthew was an extreme introvert when he was young.

"Don't use that voice Mattie…you know I don't like it…" he said and Matthew numbly nodded his head.

III

Arthur approached Alfred and seated himself next to the taller. "Ugh…some things never change."

"Heh…it's like this place is our destiny…" Alfred grinned in a weak attempt to make himself sound lighthearted. Arthur rolled his eyes and leant forward to kiss Alfred quickly on the lips before leaning back and picking up a random magazine, not exactly caring about what it was on. Alfred simply snickered. "That's a women's fashion magazine Artie…"

Arthur quickly closed it and tossed it on the table before picking up a sports one, glaring over to top at Alfred who continued to snicker at his pilot of a boyfriend. He wished he could snap a photo with how comical it looked, he had the perfect angle at the moment. "So what happened? Why're we here?" he then asked.

"Oh yeah, sorry, um…Mattie and Marco were just hangin' out hopefully and these four guys started flirting with him and stuff like that and…shit went down. Uh…Marco attacked them and Mattie got involved somehow and then he had to run away and he thinks that they were all arrested for a night or two or something like that and I picked him up and yeah. Now we're here."

"You're not the best story teller," Arthur muttered as he turned a page calmly. Alfred huffed and picked up another sports magazine with a 'what makes you better?'. They shared a brief moment of silent reading before a nurse approached them with Matthew following not too far behind.

"He's fine—just needs to let the bruises heal and apply this," she held up a tube of something. "to his cuts every morning. Other than that, he's perfectly fine, but it's good that you brought him here, those cuts looked like they could get infected pretty badly."

"Aw, awesome," Alfred grinned before glancing hopefully at his cousin. "See? You weren't here for more than three hours," he said, voice matter-of-fact. Matthew almost lifelessly nodded his head in response before Arthur stood up and motioned with his fingers for Matthew to follow him. As the two left, Alfred had left with receiving the rest of the information, sending Arthur a look of betrayal.

"What's with the face?" Arthur asked, raising in eyebrows in concern, voice thick with said emotion. Matthew averted his gaze to the tiles on the floor to his right.

He then answered Arthur so quietly he thought he had just imagined it. "I lost a friend and Francis is going to break up with me…"

Arthur straightened up, furrowing his eyebrows. "And what makes you assume that?" he questioned sternly, placing his hands on his hips. Matthew almost guiltily glanced at Arthur before back at the floor below him.

"They avoid you. Then they break up with you."

"No," Arthur immediately replied and Matthew glanced up at Arthur curiously.

Matthew then hardened, eyebrows creasing and a frown tugging at his lips. "I've seen it Arthur. I've seen it with Alfred over and over—I know the signs."

"Well Francis doesn't do that, according to his book, it's either stay with them, or drop them right away," he pointed out, head still held high.

Matthew's hard expression dissolved immediately, likely not up to keeping that expression for long. "…Well then he can't read…"

"Exactly," Arthur grinned slightly up at Matthew who raised his eyebrows in slight surprise and interest as he snapped his fingers in an 'ah-ha!' sort of way. "He can't read in your language, so he writes in his own."

III

The following Sunday, Arthur had managed to drag Francis out of his dorm room so he could confront Matthew. The Canadian was off somewhere and Arthur assumed that he was off with Marco again giving that he heard from the news that one was only charged for one night—immediately identifying the face on the screen as Marco.

They turned a corner and found Matthew and Marco just separating from a hug and Francis smiled solemnly. "I told you…"

"No. Go talk to him whether Marco's there or not—be selfish for once," he demanded, shoving Francis forward, Marco and Matthew spotting him. Arthur sighed and flipped his phone open to call Alfred.

"Eh, let's finish your story later," Marco announced, pointing to Francis who Matthew had already caught sight of.

"Ah…bon—" Francis started, but was cut short when Matthew threw himself onto the Frenchman. He muttered something before going in for a kiss only to be met with the palm of Francis's hand.

"E-eh?"

"Mm…you should save those for the one you truly love…" Francis advised, though his voice wavered in the slightest. Matthew was clearly shocked at Francis's statement and began stuttering the word 'are' over and over as be backed off slightly. Francis then glanced at the ground. "Why'd I even come here?" he muttered under his breath—it obviously wasn't supposed to be heard by both Matthew and Marco, and it obviously wasn't meant in the way Matthew took it.

"W-wha…?"

"No Alfred! This is a serious problem we're dealing with! You can talk about sex la—Francis, where in bloody hell are you—shut up Alfred! This is serious!" Arthur hissed before following after Francis, eyebrows furrowing. "Francis!" he stopped next to Francis's car as the Frenchman seated himself heavily in the driver's seat. "Why are you leaving?" he demanded—he was downright pissed now.

"I told you he was already with that guy," Francis answered blankly before closing the door and driving off.

"Francis you bloody wanker I'm going to—Alfred, I told you to shut up!" with a frustrated wail, Arthur snapped his phone shut and stuffed it into his pocket. He then pinched the bridge of his nose and forced himself to take a few deep breaths along with count to ten—normally it'd work. With a sigh, Arthur let his hand fall to his side and trudged over to check up on Matthew and Marco.

Arthur watched as Matthew cried loudly, Marco awkwardly trying to comfort him as his friend sobbed brokenly into his chest about Francis breaking up with him. Arthur frowned—those two completely misunderstood each other big time.

…Well that plan backfired pretty badly.

XXXX

I'm so cruel. Baaaw.

Fun Fact: Cafés were huge in Paris in the late 1700's. So popular that people spent more money on coffee than cheese (three million livres a year).