A/N: Not the smoothest chapter, sorry. And I love my cheap Daiso scarf :)

Side Story 4

"Tell me about this." Matthew teased carefully and tugged gently on Ivan's scarf. The two were sprawled out after a very satisfying make out session and maybe a little bit further in warm contentment. Alfred was gone… well, who cared, he was gone. And the house was silent.

Ivan's beautiful eyes slid open glassily and gave Matthew an adorably befuddled look.

"I purchased it at K-Mart years ago." Ivan replied sleepily and flopped back down.

Matthew squeaked, "You're kidding."

Ivan grunted and sighed. His voice was perplexed as he responded, "Should I be kidding?"

Matthew was still attempting to process… from K-Mart? He was homicidally protective of a strip of fabric that was probably made in some sweatshop in Malaysia FROM K-Mart? The same scarf he regularly caused bodily harm over and let no one touch it for fear of severed limbs… FROM K-Mart? The scarf he tended like a newborn was FROM K-Mart.

"Um, no. I just thought it held some deeper meaning." Matthew finally stuttered as he brain finished processing.

Ivan's eyes were now both open and he was starting to look annoyed.

"It does Matvey. I like it very much; it is not replaceable." Ivan's voice reflected his irritated look and he huffed, pulling the scarf out of Matthew's fingers. Did not replaceable mean some kind of double talk? Or did he mean that particular scarf was no longer made in China? Or did he really just like THAT scarf and wanted to keep it as long as possible?

"That's it?" Matthew realized he was heading into dangerous territory but it came out of his lips without warning. He'd been hanging around Alfred too long… talk first, deal with the spine-crushing consequences later with a laugh.

Instead of bringing Matthew into a bear hug of Death, Ivan started pouting. Matthew was wishing to be paralyzed from the waist (wait, waist, no, legs, yes, legs; there were important bits above the legs but below the waist) rather than see Ivan pout like a large, particularly angry child.

"Yes."

And that was the end of that particularly lame and spectacularly fail conversation. Matthew still spent several hours eyeing the scarf before he finally dozed off. Alfred's accusations of 'you think too much' was coming back to haunt him.

"Dude, he was totally lying to you." Alfred laughed obnoxiously and mashed a complex pattern into the controller executing a perfect killing blow, "Besides, didn't Wal-Mart annihilate all the K-Marts? They're like an extinct dino or something."

"Ivan wouldn't lie to me." Matthew muttered as he watched his electronic character writhe in the agony of defeat. Even as he said it, he knew Ivan certainly would lie to him, if Ivan thought it wasn't any of his business or for some other secret reason that only he could know.

"Sure—oh, ouch, did you even try? I killed you deader than dead man." Alfred crowed and gave a solid punch. When Matthew didn't punch back the grin slid from his face, "Bro, Ivan adores you. Quit being a chick and man-up. Be a little more insensitive, will ya?"

"Oh, and just who was wailing like a puppy who got swatted with a newspaper yesterday? The neighbors called the pound thinking you were killing an animal."

"See, this is exactly what I mean. Quit PSMing and being a passive-aggressive bitch." Alfred reprimanded with a flush, "And I was not wailing. I was expressing my distress in a gentlemanly fashion."

"Arthur would be rolling in his grave if he were dead."

Alfred chuckled half-fondly and have devilishly at the mention of his best friend, "Right now he's probably more concerned with the fact Francis is balls-deep."

"Or in the middle of another horrific break-up. They have managed to stay together for two and a half weeks this time. I think that's a record of some kind." Matthew rolled his eyes at his brother's crassness. Alfred just had to be in everyone's business—well, it was hard NOT to be in Arthur and Francis' business as they aired their dirty laundry off the school roof like a proud flag of discord.

Alfred shrugged and clicked off the tv, "You want me to ask Ivan?"

Matthew was horrified. He knew Alfred meant well, but his methods… they let a little to be desired. And since one of his chief pleasures in life seemed to involve playfully tormenting Ivan in a thick and sometimes emotionally painful manner… No, not a good idea. Not at all.

"Um, what?" Matthew managed while thinking of the bazillion distractions he could have used. Actually, the easiest one would be 'blah blah blah Natalia…' It could be oh no, the space aliens are autopsying Natalia, go save her! And Alfred would go charging away off-topic.

"About the scarf." Alfred sighed in exasperation, "You're such a space-case."

That was rich coming from the King of the Clouds.

Matthew thought about it (burying his doubts with a bulldozer for the moment). Didn't he trust Ivan? Who cared where his scarf came from… the one he wore in all weather and treated like it was spun from gold and baptized with precious spices.

"That's okay…"

"Dammit, now you've gone and got me all curious too." Alfred grumbled, "I hate being all nosy and stuff."

Riiiiiiiiiight. Like a pig hated rolling mud or a middle aged house wife hated soaps.

Well, there was no stopping him not that he had a personal, vested interest.

Matthew stared at his brother. He pushed down the hysterical need to roll on the ground clutching his stomach. Instead he managed a fairly even, "Nice shiner."

"You should see the other guy." Alfred retorted with a wince.

Matthew made himself act normal and doodled on the margin of his math homework, "I'm sure Ivan looks pristine. What'd he say?"

"He punched me." Alfred whined.

"And?" Matthew knew Alfred was being melodramatic. Ivan took jabs at him all the time. And the shiner, while unattractive, really wasn't that bad. Although Ivan didn't usually leave marks, so he must have been really irked. It was just as likely Alfred walked into a stop sign while reaching down to pet a kitten or got smacked in the face by a vicious old lady who really needed help to the cemetery and not across the street.

Or Ivan really did deck him harder than usual.

They were all viable scenarios when concerning his brother.

Alfred sulked. Yeah, Ivan actually did punch him this time.

"Wow, you must have really pissed him off. He hasn't punched you hard enough to bruise in a month and a half." Matthew whistled and a giggle slipped out.

Alfred shot him a half-dirty, half-pained glare, "I don't have the luxury of sticking my hands down his pants when he's pissed like that."

Ouch.

In his current snit, sympathy or condolences wouldn't go far, but Matthew had to try anyway. It was partly his fault after all. And Alfred was his brother and Ivan was his boyfriend. And Alfred was uncharacteristically angry, truly angry at the moment.

"Do you need some ice? We're fresh outta raw steak."

A small smile broke through his brother's nasty scowl.

"Ice it is then. I slaughtered the last cow in our backyard to make some leather a week ago." Alfred teased back, still a bit dark, "And tell your douchebag boyfriend assault is a punishable offense."

"Tell him yourself." Matthew called over his shoulder as he went to get a bag of ice.

"So, y'know, isn't the jackass cooking? Not that I care, the bastard would be the world a favor by frying and all, but we're in a sauna." Gilbert complained pointing at Ivan, who despite being in the oh-so-delicious nude, still had the scarf around his neck. Gilbert had given up on his 'be nice to Ivan for Matthew's sake campaign' a week after Christmas. It degraded into pretend nice then into subtle (for Gilbert) insults. And then reverted to outright criticism. Same same.

"He got some nasty scars or is he a leper?"

"Why don't you ask him then?"

Gilbert paused to consider, "What'd he say to you, oh-revered-boyfriend."

"K-Mart."

"What the fuck? Matt-Man, that makes shitall sense." Gilbert hissed and chuckled darkly.

"You're telling me." Matthew wasn't going to get into this with Gilbert. He just wasn't. He was just going to nod and take a step back when the fists went flying.

"Uh-oh, trouble in paradise?" Gilbert pressed eagerly. His shit-eating grin was in full-force, "Up for some good, hard, angry sex? I have a tight schedule, but for an old flame, I'm more than happy to make some time."

"You're an asshole." Matthew couldn't catch it before it went out. Way too much time with Alfred. He needed to get his mind-mouth filter tuned soon; this could get embarrassing to his quiet, friendly reputation. And then how could he pull a Jaws on some poor, unsuspecting dumbass? It just killed the look of surprise if they were expecting it.

"That's the part of me you're interested in anyway." Gilbert retorted, showing his canines.

Matthew looked him up and down slowly then laughed softly, "There may be some other useful parts too."

"Damn straight, and in great working order they are." Gilbert gave a sexy, cocky smirk.

"You sound like a used car salesman."

Gilbert's look melted into outrage and he stuck his tongue out. He leaned closer to Matthew and draped an arm around his shoulders, pushing their hips together, "Well, then I've got a deal for you…"

"Gil…" Matthew warned seeing Ivan ambling over towards them. His warning tapered off as his eyes (and his body) greedily watched as Ivan walked towards them with a full frontal view. He clenched his fists and swallowed slightly, feeling the sweat drip down his face and a very familiar, potentially embarrassing sensation building between his bent knees.

"You're gonna drown Matt-Man." Gilbert said waspishly, "Your brother is an idiot to think you were a virgin."

Matthew licked his lips and didn't reply. In his mind's eye, he was already running his hands down firm outer thighs then back up over solid hips before migrating back down at an inward angle. Given Ivan's generous proportions, it wouldn't take long for his questing fingertips to reach curly hairs. And from there it'd be easy to get to the real prize.

Of course, he forgot how fucking obnoxious Gilbert could truly be when he got riled. Which was a lot of the time. Really, how could he forget? And this time Gilbert was pouring on the irritants like an arsonist poured on the gasoline.

"Hey, Upgrade."

Matthew winced. Just because Ivan was well-endowed... he felt his face flame and it wasn't with desire anymore.

Ivan cocked his head, giving Gilbert a level look. The two were hardly best friends, but they seemed to have a pact of non-aggression where they could actually co-exist in the same room with minimal bloodshed. Usually.

This was going to be an Alfred, take two. But with more gore and less grudging acceptance. And Matthew sure as hell wasn't going to offer Gilbert an ice pack at the end of it.

"What's the deal with the scarf?"

Ivan's hands instinctively flew up to his neck and clutched the fabric possessively. His face hardened and he glared. Dark waves were starting to vibrate off him, but Gilbert ignored it all.

"Scars, birthmarks? Yer momma try to strangle you as a child? Someone hang you?"

Okay, Gilbert was going to need more than an icepack.

And Matthew still didn't feel sorry for him.

Ivan's face morphed into a childish smile and he giggled softly. Definitely bad signs. He made no move to remove his white-knuckled grip from the scarf but took a step towards them. Matthew backed up leaving Gilbert to his fate. He wondered if he could order a Gilbert-sized spatula because that might be the only thing that could peel his remains off the ground.

"In case you didn't notice, there's no need to be wearing a stitch in here. So you must be covering something!"

Ivan suddenly relaxed and loosed the scarf.

"Perhaps its time for revenge." Ivan hummed in a gleeful voice and Gilbert looked justifiably nervous for the first time.

"I'm too awesome for revenge."

Ivan's face didn't change from his look of sardonic amusement.

"Never mind this shit." Gilbert bluffed. Definitely the wrong thing to do with Ivan. Ivan loved calling bluffs. It was like a hobby of his.

Ivan took a few more steps before lunging forward with shocking speed. Gilbert was expecting a tackle and flung himself back and to the side. Unfortunately, Ivan seemed to have learned a thing or two from watching all of Alfred's inane football games because he followed easily and slammed into Gilbert full-force. With a powerful thrust of his shoulder, he sent the albino flying and skittering into a pool with a terrific splash. And a terrific scream of manly bits boiling to the point of impotence.

Ivan watched with a peaceful smile, "You are better swimmer, da?"

Then he wandered off leaving Matthew laughing hysterically like a demented hyena leaving Gilbert frying like a lobster in the hot pool.

"You know, he's not going to tell you." Alfred mumbled through a Big Mac. His manners had improved since his courting of Natalia, so he only sprayed crumbles in his immediate radius instead of going for the world spitting record.

"Why are you two so curious?" Toris asked warily as he slowly ate a fry, "It's just a piece of clothing."

"It's suspicious, that's why. That big guy never takes it off! It's like sewed into his skin or something. Oh my God, he could be one of those robots Kiku told me about… Mattie, tell me…" Alfred's eyes were wide and Matthew almost bought his act until he realized what Alfred was angling for.

"Go get laid Al. Really, it's none of your business. You're awfully nosey for someone who's banned us from the couch. But to answer your question, no." Matthew rolled his eyes.

"Ivan's not going to tell you." Toris shook his head, ignoring the indecent lunchtime talk politely. Matthew knew he was right. Ivan was remarkably closed-lipped about certain things. "But perhaps you could ask someone who knows him best."

Why didn't Matthew think of that? This is why Toris got it from every angle; he was too damn sensible. Murphy's Law ensured that he was screwed at every opportunity because he was so all-knowing and prepared! It just begged a ball-kicking.

Natalia was not an option; she has stopped flashing her knife at him but he didn't trust the uneasy truce they had conducted around Alfred. He liked his soul whole and unmutilated. But Katerina was a lovely option. She was just so sweet and willing and… not like that… although the might work in Toris' favor if he ever got too it. And Ivan didn't kill him. And now Matthew was thought-rambling. Stay on task here—scarf, scarf, mysterious, sexy Ivan's K-Mart scarf!

"She's meeting me later. Would you like to come Matthew?"

"Sure!"

"He said Matthew, you dumbass." Matthew scowled at his brother and elbowed him. Alfred cocked his head, "No, he said 'you.'"

Toris gave a soft smile, "Alfred, you have something else to do."

Alfred's eyes widened, "SHIT! I'm late."

They watched him scramble to throw away his trash and bolt out the door.

"When did you become his personal secretary?"

Toris just sighed.

So Matthew went with Toris to meet Katerina. He was surprised the two were actually meeting up in a public place. He felt like the awkward third wheel and was fail at playing cupid. But he decided to get his question out and scat. He was sure this was a rare moment of free time for the two; Toris didn't talk about it but Matthew gathered the two were scrambling fiscally.

"Ivan's scarf?" Katerina cocked her head and frowned, "I don't know. He didn't have it when he left Russia. Natalia may know."

And Hell would freeze over before Matthew asked her.

It was a week before he got up enough nerve to track down Natalia (it wasn't hard; Alfred practically had a star chart of her movements). And now they were staring at each other in uneasy silence. Finally Natalia sighed and made to get up.

"Wait!"

"If Alfred requested…"

Oh great, now she thought he was his brother's messenger? Even Alfred wasn't that lame. Mostly. He never had a wingman do his dirty work, and Matthew wouldn't have agreed anyway.

"I-Ivan…"

Her eyes got icier and he was waiting for the fangs to pop out. She slowly sat back down and folded her hands before her, looking suspiciously like an unmoving Sphinx that riddled the hero.

"You have chosen an unwise topic."

Oh boy did he know it. That fleeting moment of pseudo-friendship from the previous fall was long gone. It was slaughtered in the womb. He really didn't get her. She didn't seem to want Ivan anymore, but she was still pissed at him for having Ivan. How did that make sense? Women were just crazy.

"Look." Matthew sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. It was a girly habit he had picked up from Francis. Francis did it to look good for the ladies; Matthew did it when he needed a haircut. Natalia looked. Well, did her creepy stare thing. How did Katerina, Ivan, and Natalia all come out socially retarded? They made Gilbert look well-adjusted. "I just want to know about Ivan's scarf."

Natalia looked at him suspiciously, "He purchased it when he first came to America."

"At K-Mart?"

REALLY? So Ivan wasn't lying; he really was attached to a $2 scarf from K-Mart made out of fake material.

"Possibly. I am unsure. Why does this matter?" Natalia relaxed and looked almost curious. It made her look a little softer, more human and less ice princess. She raised an eyebrow when he didn't answer and a small smile tugged at her lips fondly, "Shall I tell you?"

Matthew was instantly suspicious. Natalia didn't just offer up choice bits of prime rib information for nothing. There had to be a catch somewhere, a hook. And he was desperate but not stupid. Not desperate enough to be stupid yet anyway.

"That'd be nice." Matthew said meekly, trying to interject enough hope and pleasure but not sound like he was acting. Of course, he sucked at acting, and that's exactly what he sounded like. Damn Alfred for garnering all the talent genes in the womb. He added for effect,"You know, if you wanted to tell me?"

"I do not wish to tell you anything; however, I would consider an exchange."

Shit.

That's all Matthew could think. And for good measures: shit, shit, shit, deal with the devil, shit.

"Depends on what you want."

Her smile widened.

Matthew caught Ivan up by the scarf and tugged him down. Ivan followed it obediently and let Matthew place a not-quite-chaste kiss on his lips. But then he gently pulled the scarf out of Matthew's hands and fussed about putting it back in place. Matthew leaned against him, hindering his movements and generally letting his hands go in distracting places.

"I know your secret." Matthew hummed and Ivan scowled, grabbing his fingers as they inched under his coat. He was so funny about his 'secrets.' Sometimes it hurt Matthew that he locked parts of himself away, but the scarf thing… "Why didn't you tell me that the scarf was the first thing you bought when you got here? It's not sissy to make it symbolic like that."

Ivan continued scowling and the pressure on Matthew's fingers increased. Matthew winced but didn't try to pull away. Instead he leaned harder letting Ivan feel his nearness, physically and emotionally. Sometimes he wondered why he bothered with words; Ivan always responded better to action. Maybe that's why he was originally drawn to the dynamic brother of reckless action first. Alfred did more action and less thinking than the average college student, and that was saying something. And this was when he was sober.

"Matvey is wrong."

What. No he wasn't. He had done his homework, gone into dangerous territory to gather top secret spy information. Of course he wasn't wrong.

He looked up to see Ivan with a child-like smile on his face.

"I am especially fond of this scarf because… I like this scarf. They no longer make them in this color and it is quite comfortable." Ivan chuckled as Matthew's mouth dropped open. That fucking bastard. Of all the shallow and asinine reasons… well, okay, the reason was more valid that usual, but still!

"What if it rips? Then you'll have to get a new one." Matthew pointed out with a smirk of his own.

Ivan chuckled, "I have many more. Surely Matvey did not think it was the same scarf?"

Matthew narrowed his eyes and huffed in aggravation. He couldn't decide who he was more pissed at: Ivan for being such a mindfucker or himself for falling for it. He should be having an S&M mindfuck orgasm out of this one. Trust Ivan to break bones over a falsely created illusion of the sacred. Oh wait, this was Ivan, nothing was sacred.

"Matvey is angry?" Ivan had let go of his fingers and placed big hands around Matthew's waist, holding him a little bit firmer than he was confortable with. His soft laughter died and he looked unsure again. Matthew instantly felt guilt. He hated the wronged puppy look.

"No. I was stupid for not believing you the first time. Sorry." Matthew mumbled into Ivan's coat, his face burning with embarrassment at being such an ass. Alfred really was rubbing off on him.

Ivan carefully unwound half the scarf and looped it around Matthew. It was incredibly warm and soft. Matthew gave a smile and snuggled into it. It was moments like these that he knew that their relationship was strong enough to weather douchebaggery and fits of temper. And it could only get better with time and openness. Ivan was a quick study after all. Now if they could just work a little more in the bedroom, it'd be perfect.

", I can't find my favorite boxers! Did you wash them? Did you? They're gone. I neeeeeeeeeeed them. They're my lucky boxers. Mattie, Mattie…? Aggh, sock eating alien, why did you eat my boxers?"