(Yay! I've finally reached the tenth chapter and it's FINALLY Christmas! Well...for them at least since Christmas was actually two months ago...anyway, lots of plotty stuff in here! Prepare to be amazed! *dramatic wave of hand*)
WARNING! There is going to be some sexual content due to France so yeah...
"...and finally, keep hands in sight at all times, in fact..." Alfred boldly grabbed Ivan by his wrists and pulled his arms straight up like you would if a cop came barging in demanding for you to put your hands up. Ivan glared contemptuosly at Alfred and put his arms back down at his sides. "Will you quit with your ridiculous rules and get your sorry arse in the car!" Iggy snapped impatiently from inside the ancient patriotic vehicle. Alfred rolled his eyes and slammed the trunk closed after giving Ivan and I an "I'm watching you" guesture. I made an exasperated sigh and took Ivan's enormous hand in mine and led him to the impossibly tiny seat behind the front seats. Ivan glanced at me as if he was saying "Are you kidding me?". I shrugged slightly and squeezed on inside the car, hugging my red under-armor duffel bag and Kumasua so there was possibly enough room for Ivan.
He looked like he devising a strategy for he shifted experimentially a few times. "Hurry up already! I'm freezing my jingle bells off!" Al cried impaitiently. Ivan smiled humorously. "Yours jingle?" I snorted and tried to hold back a laugh at the flushed look on my brother's face, but I ultimately failed and cracked up. Even Arthur chuckled. Ivan smiled smugly as he squeezed himself inside the backseat feet first. He then curled himself awkwardly so he could could actually fit inside the cramped interior and he slammed his door closed and leaned his head and shoulder against it. Ivan's massive leg was curled up in my lap and his other foot was behind my head. It was a very awkward position since I was pratically wedged right between his legs, dangerously close to yet to be explored territory. I blushed furiously and Ivan reflected it slightly and muttered a low apology.
Alfred glared at us venomously and shockingly didn't say anything snide. He simply turned back around and cranked up the radio. Ivan winced slightly as Ke$ha pumped through the speakers and Alfred continued to screech along. I pulled out my iPod and offered an earbud to him who gratefully accepted. We listened to some Apocolyptica, Lady GaGa, and Nickelback during our trip, making it much more bearable but a bit more awkward if it were even possible. Most of the songs I had were either very suggestive or lovey dovey. I skipped over most of them and mainly stuck to the rip-your-guts-out-with-a-spork rock. Ivan didn't seem to mind.
Before I knew it, the car was parked in the driveway of our modest suburban home that was slightly decorated with a few lights outlining the windows and doorway. It took a complex process and lots of butter (not really butter, I'm just kidding...it was a gallon of oil) to get Ivan out from the backseat. When we were all out and situated, we took our stuff into our house. It hadn't changed much really, except for the Christmas decorations scattered about and the fact that it was actually clean rather than a pit of chaos like it was before we left for college.
"Welcome to our humble abode," I said as sweeping an arm, guesturing to the main room. Ivan smirked slightly and took off his boots and coat when I told him to make himself at home. We stood awkwardly for a moment, feeling Alfred's eyes watching us suspiciously. We stood there for a while for I couldn't think of anything really to say or do, worried that I might throw Alfred right off his rocker. I glanced over toward my brother who glowered at us, as if he expected us to throw off our clothes and start spooning on the floor or something. Arthur then appeared behind Alfred and smacked him on the head scoldingly with a wooden spoon. Alfred yelped and rubbed a forming lump on his head as Arthur hissed something to him and drug him out of sight. I realized that I was holding my breath for some reason and I exhaled deeply as if it were a sigh of relief. I then took Ivan's hand and led him down the hall in front of us to my room. I kicked the door open to see that room was still that same as I left it. The hockey posters were still there and my nation's flag was still tacked up on the same slight slant of drywall above my bed.
"This is obviously my room as you can see," I muttered as Kuma squirmed in my arms, trying to get down. When I straightened back up from gently setting the cub down, Ivan was centimeters away from me. "I like your house," Ivan grumbled in his gruff voice. "It's warm and welcoming." I smiled and slid my hands up over his broad chest and laced my fingers around the back of his neck as his arms coiled around me. "Why wouldn't it be?" I asked as leaning my head against his chest, listening to the comforting thump of his heart. He shrugged his shoulders slightly. "I don't know...I guess I really never been inside a real home before." Confusion made my brow crease and I looked up to see his face clearly. "What do you mean?"
My question was ignored and suddenly my TV was utterly facinating to Ivan. He left my arms and crouched down to the drawer in the entertainment center the held my movies. I knelt down beside him to see what he was discovering in my collection of films. He soon found something I was worried he would find. "Are you serious Matvey?" He was holding the entire Twilight saga in his hand. I snatched the DVDs from his hand and hid them behind my back. "Alfred's idea..." was my brilliant, well thought out excuse. I can explain. The only reason I have read the books and seen the movies so that I can be an ass hat and point out all the flaws and utter cheesiness of the whole thing. It annoys the crap out of Alfred when I critisize it because he has a thing for Jacob Black/Taylor Lautner.
Ivan shook his head disapprovingly and continued to trifle through my movie drawer. Ivan continued to tease me at some of the movies I owned until Alfred interupted by rudely barging in without knocking. He was wearing a Santa hat and was chomping on two candy canes he probably scavenged off the tree while England wasn't looking. "Mattie," He garbled around the candy canes. "You might want to get in there before Iggy blows up the oven with his shitty cookies again." Ivan raised an eyebrow at me while I sighed slightly. Of course I had to take over the baking for niether America or England were capable of handling a spoon without making the batter somehow burst in flames. Trust me, it's possible and it has happened before.
I stood back up to my feet and walked out to the kitchen (closely followed by Ivan of course) where England was crouched over a thick cook book, scratching his head with the end of the spoon. He had something black and charred on a plate next to him and I swear to God it moved. "Trying to make cookies again Arthur?" I asked lightly, trying not to stare at the burnt lump that twitched again. Arthur made a frustrated noise and violently threw his spoon down on the floor with a loud clatter before storming out of the room. "He's in a spectacular mood is he not?" Ivan sarcastically rumbled from behind me when he stormed off. I chuckled slightly as I threw the thing the was the result of England's cooking into the garbage can after stabbing it a few times to make sure it was dead. I turned back to see Ivan looking down at the page England was turned to. "Why does he have a recipe for tacos out if he wanted to make cookies?"
I shrugged as shooing him away from the book and leafed through the pages searching for my favorite cookie recipe: maple cookies. "It goes to show how challenged Arthur is when it comes to cooking," I simply said as finding the directions for the maple delights. Ivan looked over my shoulder at the ingredients and immediately began to hunt around in the cabinets for them while I preheated the oven and collected the necessary utensils. We met up at the granite island with our findings and began to make the russet brown cookie dough. We had a few fights with the flour, making an enormous mess on the floor that Iggy would not appreciate at all. We also wrestled a bit playfully when Ivan tried and succeeded to steal a bit of the cookie dough while I was scooping it out on a cookie sheet.
While the batches of cookies were in the oven, we cleaned up our flour mess and washed and put away the dishes we used. It took a few hours for all of the cookies to be baked for we could only fit eight cookies in the oven at a time, so we basically joked around and had a little game of chase around the kitchen, which I do not recomend for we almost smashed the toaster. Once all the cookies were done and baked, we sat down on the couch for a while watching a Christmas rerun of The Big Bang Theory where Sheldon was freaking out about Penny getting him a present. That was when a rapping, tapping sounded from my chamber door ((A/N: Sorry about that...I couldn't resist the distorted Edgar Allen Poe reference...I really am a nerd)).
Confused, I got up from the couch and opened the door to see a very familiar man standing at our doorstep. The man had gorgous shoulder length blond hair and lovey dovey royal blue eyes. He was dressed in a form fitting blue jacket and red pants tucked into shiny knee high designer boots. He had a scruffy beard on his chin and his face was rather handsome. A wide smile appeared on the man's face and he cried with delight as showering my face with overly friendly kisses. "Matthew, mon cher! It's been so long since your big brother France had seen you! Look how tall and sexy you are! I bet you attract a lot of beautiful women! Tell me, are you still a virgin?"
I gaped at the man who claimed to be France and my big brother. Could he really be that person who sang that lullaby to me so long ago? When I looked at him a bit closer I did recognize him to be that particular person who took me in. Why hadn't I met him before? How did I end up in the care of England? "I see that you arrived Frog," Iggy's voice sneered from behind me. France pouted slightly like he had been hurt by Arthur's bitterness. "Aren't you happy to see me, mon cher?" He whimpered as moving toward my elder brother as if he were to hug him. England swatted him away as if he were a bothersome fly. "Shut up, you wine sucking ninny. Let's go to another room so we can discuss..." He trailed off and glanced from him to me awkwardly.
"Let's not get into a rush now, mon cher," France said with a wave of his hand. "We'll get to that after I catch up with Matthew." France then turned to me and pulled me into the living room, babbling random and very disturbing not to mention VERY personal questions the entire way. He then saw Russia lounged on the couch watching Sheldon irritate the daylights out of Raj and Howard. "Who's this?" He asked. I felt my face heat up as Ivan snapped his head around to glare at the flamboyant visitor. "Uh, Ivan, this is my...big brother I guess, France. France, this is Ivan, my...uh..." I trailed off as I felt my cheeks pratically burst into flames. France seemed to understand what I was trying to say. "Boyfriend?" He said with an enthusiasm I hadn't expected. "So you don't swing toward girls after all? I should've known. He is quite cute. Has he popped your cherry yet?" He waggled his golden eyebrows suggestively as I intelligently stuttered in embarrassment. Ivan's face was just a red as mine, but not neccessarily for the same reason as me. "You poor dear Matthew," France cooed, not waiting for an objection from me. "It must have been painful, assuming that his-"
"No! We haven't done anything like that!" I interjected while my face flushed as red as the ornaments on the tree. Before France could say anymore perverted things, Alfred walked in gobbling the cookies Ivan and I made earlier and gulped down an absurdly large mug of ridiculously chocolately hot cocoa. "What's going on in here? I heard Mattie shout something about 'not doing anything like that'." He said around four whole cookies he crammed into his mouth. "Bon jour America!" France cried as throwing himself at Alfred who desperately tried to escape the embrace but failed. While he was distracted by Alfred, I sat down next to Ivan on the couch. "Sorry about that, I didn't know that he would be so...yeah..." I muttered awkwardly as hugging him. "It's fine," Ivan growled as glaring at the Frenchman who now harrassed the American with embarrassing and intrusive questions.
The hours dragged by as I soon got to know more about my new found big brother. He babbled constantly about his home and how beautiful and romantic it is there. He is also, obviously, very, very perverted and air headed when it came to logic. Yet he is pratically an expert on STDs and other gross things that I've could've gone my entire life without knowing. Besides those disturbing contributing factors, he was okay to be around. When the clock hit around ten, Alfred suggested that we should watch a horror movie or play some gory videogame which Ivan reluctantly agreed to. We ended up playing Mario Kart instead of watching the rest of a slasher movie Alfred picked out because Al was screaming like a little girl within the first ten minutes of the movie. I didn't mind playing GameCube because that movie sucked anyway.
After my second victory in Sherbert Land, I excused myself to get something to drink. When I passed by Iggy's room, I heard him and Francis talking. Curious, I paused and pricked my ears outside the closed door.
"You promised Frog. Tell me or I will rip those greasy whiskers right off your chin!" Arthur snarled.
"I know, I know..." France sighed, sounding uncharacteristically tired.
Silence.
"The reason I gave Matthew to you is a long story," Francis began finally.
"I loved that child since the day I found that poor boy in the snow. A delightful child he was. Matthew was so charming and cute as a child that even I couldn't resist..." France sounded slightly guilty toward the end where trailed off.
"What do you mean Fr - no. Oh no, please tell me you didn't-"
"Non, I admit that I had very wrong feelings for the child when he grew a bit older, but I swear that I did nothing to Matthew." France's voice was raw and bitter. "I would never forgive myself if I had given in to my desires and that was precisely the reason why I gave him to you mon cher Arthur."
I was frozen where I was standing, shocked. How-why-what? My mind was thrown into a tailspin as stood completely flabbergasted of what I had just heard. It all made sense now. Long forgotten memories were now running through my confused and tangled thoughts. Pictures of France smiling and laughing down at me as I made a wild grab for the scruffy hairs of his beard, curious of what it would feel like. More happy memories flashed by but was instantly darkened when I remembered the last time I ever saw him until now. He looked very grim and tired as he laid me down on a cold doorstep and tucked a letter inside my plush blanket that swaddled Kuma and I.
Without thinking, I opened the door and threw myself at an ashamed Frenchman perched on the corner of England's bed. I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed him as hard as I could. For some reason, I started sobbing into France's blue jacket and I felt his hands pat my back comfortingly. Little did I know, France's hands began to head south toward strictly forbidden territory and I didn't realize it until I heard Ivan shout something vulgar from behind and wrenched me away from France's arms. He flung me back against the wall and continued to grab the Frenchman's collar. "Don't you EVER touch him again you bastard!" He spat in France's surprisingly grim face. He looked over at me with tortured blue eyes and he looked like a withered rose. Drained and fragile. "I'm sorry Matthew, please, even though I do not deserve it at all, forgive me."
That made Ivan even more angrier and he slammed the Frenchman down on the floor and was about to strike Francis across the face when I screamed, "STOP!" Ivan paused for a moment and looked up at me with an expression of pure malevolence. "What is that matter with you Ivan?" I snapped as approaching him threateningly. "He apologized! Let him go!" I was begging now, tears still running down my face.
"No," France said as shaking his tired blond head. "I deserve it Matthew. I deserve to be beaten to a pulp." Ivan looked confused for a moment, not sure if he should listen to me an let him go or go on ahead and beat the crap out of France. After a few moments of confused silence, he made an angry roar and ran from the room and apparently went on outside for I heard the door slam angerly. I quickly forgot about France, worried about Ivan for I've never seen him get this angry before. I ran after him, wondering bitterly what the hell his problem was.
((Well, that was kind of sketchy, but I think you guys will be satisfied with the plottiness though :) Please don't flame me about making France a sicko pedophile because I couldn't come up with anything really else and it seemed to kind of fit him (no offense to France or anything). Anyway, the next chapter should be the end my friends :())
REVIEW PLEASE! 8D