Chapter 3
Matthew wasn't sure how he always ended up in these types of situations. Well, he knew why—anyone that met him could tell instantly that he was different—but he didn't understand why everyone had to be so damned mean about it.
At his last school, he'd been invisible for years. Even though his parents were extremely wealthy, and he made excellent grades, he was somehow always overlooked. His teachers forgot his name, his peers didn't notice him, and nothing about him was special. Then, as he'd gotten older, the other boys got a little rougher. They didn't carry around stuffed animals anymore. They liked to tumble and wrestle in the dirt, and they learned how to play sports. They got dirty, and they got mean.
But Matthew never did. The girls in his year took a liking to him, because his hair was almost as long as theirs and he'd let them style it however they pleased. They didn't tease him for still carrying around his favorite teddy bear, and they liked reading and drawing and playing games of pretend. So Matthew became different. At times, even the girls excluded him, when they wanted to whisper about boys or share secrets, but the damage had already been done. The other boys labeled him as gay before Matthew even had a chance to figure it out on his own, or understand what the word even meant.
Now, years later, he was fairly certain they had been right, but as he'd never had his first kiss, he couldn't say for sure. He wanted to kiss a boy, though. He wanted to kiss his new roommate; the absolutely gorgeous boy that dressed so carefully, and actually spent time styling his hair, and spoke French in such a sophisticated way that Matthew could have listened to him speak all day. But just like the boys back home, Francis seemed to see right through him. He had acknowledged him, of course. He introduced himself with his amazing accent, and he even flashed him a gorgeous smile when he heard Matthew stutter out some weak French, pleased that he wouldn't have to speak English with his new roommate. But then the moment was over. The French boy went about unpacking, and calling various people on his cell phone, and then went to bed early.
Even Matthew's attempts to comfort the awkward American boy had blown up in his face. He'd never thought a kid that was as picked on and bullied as Alfred Jones would give the same treatment to someone else. Matthew had so hoped that he would be the one person in their year that might understand what it meant to be different, but he supposed it wasn't meant to be.
As he made his way through his first day of classes, it was exactly what he expected. As soon as he spoke, or moved, or even brushed his hair away from his face, the other boys knew…and they pushed him out. Even when the discussion had briefly turned to hockey in first period, which was practically Canada's national sport, they didn't seek his opinion on any of the teams back home.
A few girls gave him curious, encouraging looks, but Matthew wasn't interested. He knew he could befriend girls. He knew they were more mature and more tolerant in general than boys his own age, but was it so wrong to want just one guy friend?
Thoughts like that plagued him all day, as class after class he was overlooked by the random groups of boys that were knitting themselves into cliques. The athletic ones, the funny ones, even the nerdy ones didn't want to include him—they already took enough crap. The likely knew befriending him would only welcome more.
With a gentle sigh, Matthew left the dinner hall and crossed the nearly empty courtyard. The weather was not very pretty in London, and even though it had rained all morning, the stormy clouds were threatening to pour again.
"Hey, freshman! Come over here," a deep voice called. Startled, Matthew glanced up. A tall, muscular upperclassman was eyeing him like he was a sack of meat. It was frightening, and Matthew contemplated ducking his head down and just ignoring him.
But some stupid part of him wondered if maybe, just maybe, these boys were like him—maybe they wanted to befriend him. Ignoring his good sense, Matthew approached, hesitant as a baby deer. The tall upperclassman separated from his grinning friends and took a slow walk around Matthew, eyeing him up and down. He flicked the nose on the stuffed bear that doubled as Matthew's backpack. Matthew knew he'd get made fun of for using his old, elementary school book bag, but he didn't care. He liked it.
"You got a boyfriend, teddy bear?" the dangerous looking boy asked, invading Matthew's personal space. A few other underclassman had congregated outside the dinner hall, watching but not doing anything to intervene. Matthew turned his face away in distaste, flinching when the upperclassman ran his fingers down his bare arm.
"J-just let me go. I w-won't say anything about this," Matthew said shakily. The coarse, older boy was gripping his arm harshly now, whispering nasty phrases in his ear that made him want to cry.
Suddenly, a loud voice interrupted the scene playing out.
"HEY! Yeah! I'm talking to you! Get your grubby hands off, because it just so happens that he DOES have a boyfriend! A really badass one! And he'll…he'll…he'll totally beat you guys up!"
Matthew glanced up in surprise, startled to see none other than Alfred Jones coming to his rescue. He was skinny, and everything about him screamed loser, but his blue eyes were burning with something Matthew couldn't easily describe. The look in his eyes suddenly made Matthew feel like it was going to be okay, however unlikely that seemed.
The older boy released him, eyeing up his new victim. Matthew scurried backwards, slipping a bit on the wet pavement. He didn't need to worry though, because Alfred had boldly put himself between Matthew and his attacker. He was rail thin, but he was tall—he nearly matched the upperclassman in height, though he was definitely less intimidating. The older boy growled in annoyance at his show of courage and poked him hard in the chest.
"Oh yeah? And where's this big, bad boyfriend?"
"Err…you're looking at him! So…so back off!" Alfred pushed the taller boy with arms that resembled limp spaghetti noodles. Then he flinched, as if knowing what was coming. The upperclassman leveled him with a hard blow to his nose which made the blood start flowing. The upperclassman laughed, and his friends joined him to sneer down at Alfred.
"You stupid-ass American. You think you're a hero? Wanna save your cute little girlfriend? Well being the President's son doesn't mean shit here. Get in my way and I'll tear you up," the older boy threatened. Matthew began to pray that a professor would come, or someone would go for help at least, but it looked like nobody had even moved. If anything, the crowd of onlookers just got bigger.
Then Alfred did something really stupid. He touched his nose tenderly, wiped at the flow of blood uselessly with his shirtsleeve, and he stood back up.
The bullies looked surprised. "You honestly want more, you little shit? Get back down!"
He shoved Alfred hard, sending the boy sprawling to the pavement. Matthew heard, rather than saw, the skin of Alfred's arm scrape against the harsh cement. Despite that, Alfred actually looked up at him and winked one pain-filled, brilliantly blue eye.
Then he stood up again.
"You hit like a little girl. Is that all you got?" Alfred swayed a bit on his feet, but he was grinning.
"I'll kill you!" The bully roared, launching himself onto Alfred and pummeling him unmercifully. His friends joined in, kicking at Alfred's sides and inflicting as much damage as they could on the gangly teen.
A harsh shout broke up the fight, and Prince Arthur came running into the courtyard with a professor on his heels. The bullies were immediately chastened, and hauled off towards the Headmaster's office. Another professor helped Alfred to sit up, wincing at the damage the young boy had sustained. Finally processing what was happening, Matthew scrambled to help scrape his rescuer off the pavement. With the professor holding him up on one side, and Matthew bracing him on the right, they made their way through the silent crowd of onlookers towards the hospital wing.
The first few drops of rain began to fall, erasing the evidence of Alfred's brutal beating from the pavement.
Francis stepped away from the throng of chattering students and approached his old rival, who had run to fetch a teacher immediately, despite claiming in first period that his roommate was mentally retarded.
"Perhaps you do not dislike your new roommate as much as you claimed in class—you ran awfully fast to fetch him aid, Prince Arthur," Francis commented. He was not smiling. Rather, he looked at the scene of the crime with an anger burning in his eyes.
"At least I did something. Your roommate was being manhandled and you just stood by and watched. You're nothing but a coward, frog."
Stung by the words that rang a little too true, Francis watched as the proud British boy turned from his company sharply and strolled regally after his fallen roommate.
USUK
In the hospital wing, Alfred had a bandage wrapped efficiently around his nose (which the nurse informed him he was very lucky to still have in one piece) and he'd been given an ice pack for the fading bruise on his jaw. Matthew sat anxiously at the side of his cot, wringing his teddy bear backpack nervously.
"You were amazing. I'm so sorry for yesterday. I thought…you see I…"
"Don't worry about it. I'm the one that sounded like a prick. I didn't mean it that way, though. I don't think gay people are freaks," Alfred explained. After a moment, he extended his hand. Matthew shook it happily. "Friends?" Alfred asked hopefully. Matthew fiercely nodded his head, his blond curls bouncing lightly around his face.
"Most definitely!" This was the scene that Arthur entered in upon. He arched an eyebrow at what appeared to be Matthew holding Alfred's hand.
"So you are his boyfriend?" Arthur asked. Matthew released the American's hand hastily.
"No, but I figured it would kill two birds with one stone. Now people will stop teasing you for being my boyfriend, and Matthew knows I definitely don't think he's a freak. I hope it doesn't ruin your chances of getting asked out on a real date, though," Alfred said, directing the last part towards Matthew, with adorable earnestness. Matthew blushed.
"I doubt it. Guys don't tend to notice me very much, even just to be friends," Matthew said. Alfred huffed in dry amusement, and then winced as the action seemed to hurt his tender jaw.
"Well hey, if they don't even give you a chance, they don't know what they're missing. People give me a chance and still decide they hate me."
"Don't put yourself down trying to make me feel better," Matthew said quietly but firmly. Alfred blinked up at him in surprise. "I saw something in you I've never seen before when you stood up to those guys. Alfred Jones, no matter what anybody says…you're special. You're going to be really great some day…and to me…you're pretty great right now." Matthew finished his statement by blushing, and ducking his head against his bear's soft fur bashfully.
Arthur, who was still watching quietly, tossed his head in annoyance.
"Well, I certainly don't mean to interrupt you two running off into the sunset together…but I suppose I must admit my initial judgment of you might have been slightly premature, Mr. Jones."
"Huh?" Alfred asked. "I can't understand you when you talk like something from a textbook."
Arthur rolled his eyes in true annoyance at having to repeat his words.
"I'm saying that I'm sorry I hit you yesterday, and I'm sorry I acted like you weren't a good enough roommate. I'm starting to think you might be the very best one here. So, rest up, and I'll see to it those idiots are expelled at the very least. You needn't worry over the matter any further."
"Thanks, Arty…means…a lot," Alfred trailed off as his eyes slipped closed. The nurse bustled back in.
"That's the pain medication kicking in. He'll be out for the night likely. Now that you've said your piece, you boys get out of here and let my patient get some rest. Alert the Headmaster that Mr. Jones did not sustain any serious injuries, just a few bumps and bruises."
"Yes, madam," Arthur replied courteously before gesturing for Matthew to follow him. The two boys made their way out of the infirmary.
"Why did you hit him yesterday?" Matthew asked. Arthur reddened a bit in embarrassment.
"It's dumb, truly…he…he was thoroughly annoying and then he called me short. I detest being teased about my height."
"Hmm…next time you should probably just tell him that. I don't think Alfred is the sort of guy that can pick up on subtleties."
"That's the understatement of the century. There is absolutely nothing subtle about Alfred Jones," Arthur decided. Matthew smiled softly, and hid it in his bear's fur.
"I've never had a boyfriend before. Alfred's not exactly how I pictured him, but he's kind of nice all the same, don't you think?"
Arthur swallowed nervously and walked a little faster down the hallway, deciding simply not to respond to such a bizarre question. Hadn't Alfred said it was just a way to get all their moronic classmates from spreading rumors about himself and Arthur? Matthew didn't really think he was dating the tall freshman now, did he?
Arthur didn't know, and quite frankly, he was a little too afraid to even ask.
A/N: Yay! I love hero!America, but I love this sort of hero even more, because it's one thing going into a fight knowing you're going to win, and an entirely different matter going into one knowing you'll lose. But uh oh, now it looks like Matthew has his eye on Alfred instead of Francis! I wonder how that will play out…lol. Seriously, I wonder. I should plan the next chapter.