Chapter 18

Ivan stared distrustfully at the huge swarm of people in the Beijing airport. Even though he was only sixteen (though he'd be seventeen at the end of the month) he literally towered over everyone around them.

"At least I do not have to worry about losing you," Yao said with a small grin.

"And it will make others more likely to notice you—that is not a good thing," Ivan said. Already, his pale violet eyes scanned the airport as if expecting an ambush. Yao wanted to laugh at his paranoia, but considering how frightened and nervous his father had sounded during their last phone call, Yao realized Ivan's protectiveness might just be justified.

It was equally easy to spot Ivan's bodyguard/uncle. The hulking Russian man emerged from a shadowy hallway with a simple black bag in hand. The Chinese gave him a wide berth, and Ivan's uncle seemed to enjoy the worried looks he was inspiring. Ivan smiled at his uncle and Yao felt himself tugged forward, protectively tucked under Ivan's arm. Ivan and his uncle greeted each other in Russian, and gestured to him a few times. After a few moments, Ivan translated to English.

"This is the uncle I have told you so much about. Zakhar, meet Yao Wang. Yao, meet Zakhar."

Yao stumbled a bit over the foreign name, but inclined his head politely at the huge man. He wondered if Ivan would ever match his height and muscle mass. Zakhar said something deep and guttural sounding to Ivan, who promptly translated.

"He has a car waiting. We need to get you out of the open," Ivan said. Yao nodded, though he was unaccustomed to such security measures. Though his father had always been wealthy, he had never had such dangerous enemies before. There was a sizeable amount of money out on Yao's head, which was a fact almost too distressing to process. Perhaps noticing his worried expression, Ivan gave his shoulders another quick squeeze, and leaned down to speak to him quietly.

"You are mine. No one will hurt what is mine, da?" Yao flashed him a tight smile, somewhat reassured.

Despite initially thinking the Russians would stand out horribly, they actually had concealed themselves quite well in the bustle of the airport. As they progressed along, more and more of them seemed to crawl out of the woodwork. Soon, three terrifying looking men in dark suits trailed after them. Zakhar was the most dangerous looking one of all, and he walked directly in front of them.

"Your father has come through on his end of the deal. His men are everywhere," Yao exclaimed in pleased surprise. He felt incredibly safe, as if the feared Triads couldn't possibly pose any sort of threat now—not to his family, and certainly not to himself.

Finally, as they emerged from the airport, Yao spotted one of his father's men, his childhood tutor. He had worked for his father for many years, and he smiled sadly upon seeing Yao. He was accompanied by a burly Russian as well, and seemed less than thrilled with the arrangements. He greeted Yao with an admonishment in rapid Chinese.

"You should have stayed at your school. This is beyond dangerous. I do not care if the entire Russian mafia is here—it is not enough to guarantee the safety of your father's oldest son."

"Hello lǎo shī," Yao replied in English, for Ivan's sake. He introduced the older boy. "Ivan, this is my family's tutor, Gao Jian," Yao said. Ivan inclined his head and briefly shook the shorter man's hand. In shaky Chinese, he offered a greeting that seemed to surprise and impress the older man. Yao smiled proudly at Ivan's attempt. Further talk was saved for once they were inside the car.

"Some men remained at the airport. I take it your brother has not arrived?" Ivan asked. Yao shook his head. The middle child, his brother Xiao, was studying in Hong Kong, and was also expected in Beijing for the holidays.

"Did your flight go well?" Gao asked in heavily accented English. Ivan nodded with a smile and Yao shrugged his shoulders.

"I am ready to be home. I feel like I have not had a decent meal since I left," Yao complained. Gao continued to speak in English, though Ivan could barely understand him.

"Your mother is very excited for your return. She has cooked a feast," he said. Yao grinned happily in anticipation, and flashed Ivan an excited look.

"Now you can taste real Chinese cuisine. It is far superior to British food," Yao said. His old tutor smiled, and Zakhar coughed none-too-subtly. Ivan hastily translated what had so far been said into Russian. Ivan wondered how quickly his father's men would pick up Chinese living in Beijing—according to all negotiations currently in effect, it would be a long visit for many of them. It was likely that some would not be able to return to Russia at all, and China would be their new home. Yao felt proud of negotiating such a strong alliance, and securing professional and dangerous protectors for the people he loved most. Disinterested in their mundane topic, Zakhar leaned towards Gao's bodyguard and began conversing quietly in Russian. Ivan half listened to their conversation (which was vaguely referencing some Chinese prostitutes they had found) and Yao's conversation with his old tutor (which was most definitely not about Chinese prostitution), which alternated between slowly spoken, formal English and rapidly spoken bouts of Chinese.

Ivan was not accustomed to so many people talking around him at once, and was content to let the conversation drift over him until the Triads were mentioned by the old tutor. He perked up noticeably, his eyes narrowing. The tutor seemed a little alarmed by his sudden switch from daydreaming to glaring, and began to stutter slightly. Yao placed a calming hand on his knee, and Ivan tried to relax somewhat. It was hard, though, knowing that they were driving to a home that had been vandalized several times now by Triads—bloody and threatening messages left in their wake.

But Yao's father had not caved to their pressure, and he refused to let them take over his control of the trading district where the lower class citizens bought their goods and lived in tiny apartments. While it was not a glamorous lifestyle, until the threat of the Triads, it had been fairly safe. Now the neighborhoods were dangerous, tenants were looking to move, and businesses were feeling the pressure from Triad members seeking a cut of their profits.

"The situation is rapidly improving. With the Russians in town, the Triads are not so quick to make threats. Your house is under guard constantly, as are your father's more important businesses. The Russians patrol the neighborhood, doing what the police should have done months ago, and bloody up the Triads if they find them causing trouble," the tutor explained. Yao smiled in satisfaction. It had not been easy to organize, but Yao and Ivan had served as the primary negotiators, and their efforts appeared to be succeeding admirably.

"I am glad to hear all is going according to plan," Yao said. His tutor nodded, and glanced uneasily at his own personal bodyguard. He was leaning towards Zakhar, making a rather rude looking hand gesture and grinning a bit psychotically. Gao switched back to Chinese.

"As long as we provide cheap alcohol and easy access to women, they seem happy enough, but they are rather unrefined, and they make me very uneasy," Gao confessed. Yao frowned slightly, and Ivan caught the expression. He arched a curious, platinum blond brow. Yao hesitated a moment and then translated into English.

"Everyone is still adjusting to the presence of your father's men. There are bound to be some cultural differences," Yao said. Ivan smirked.

"We know how to handle cultural differences, da?" Ivan said in a tone that was simultaneously playful and lewd. Yao blushed, and his tutor glanced knowingly between them. Ivan's uncle and fellow mafia brother lapsed into silence, as if curious about what had been said to provoke such a reaction.

Yao tried to control his blush and wondered how the two of them were possibly going to survive the holidays without totally coming out of the closet. As if Triads and family members weren't stressful enough, now they would have to carefully watch their words and actions for fear of their rather…intimate…alliance being discovered.

USUK

Alfred flipped open his cell phone as another text message from Ivan appeared in his inbox.

"Arthur texting you already?" Matthew asked with a smile. The last of the students leaving for the holidays had left campus just a few hours before, and Alfred's mother had retired to her hotel for the evening.

"No, it's from Ivan. He says they got to Beijing alright, but he seems really worried about Yao. I don't care if he denies it—something is going on between them. There's no way that they're just friends," Alfred said. He and Matthew were currently lounging in Matthew's room, with a big stack of blank paper and a box of art supplies between them. Alfred was idly sketching as Matthew played a game on his phone.

"They're totally sleeping with each other," Matthew said. Alfred glanced up from the reply that he was typing to Ivan.

"How can you tell?" he asked. Matthew grinned mischievously.

"I have first period with Yao. This past week or so, he's been having a little trouble sitting comfortably in his seat…if you catch my drift," Matthew said. Alfred blinked innocently.

"What does a hard chair have to do with him and Ivan?" Alfred asked. Matthew rolled his eyes.

"His butt hurts? You can't think of why that might be?" Matthew said, his cheeks turning pink. Alfred resembled a hoot owl as his eyes widened in understanding.

"Oh!" he said. Matthew shook his head, perhaps in disbelief of Alfred's naivety.

"Yeah…and I seriously doubt that's what their fathers wanted them to 'discuss.' It's all kind of shady if you ask me. Probably best to just stay out of it," Matthew advised. Alfred erased part of his drawing, and read a return message from Ivan that made him snicker. He didn't share what the Russian had said, but he sent him another text.

"So…you're gay. Would you go for Ivan?" Alfred asked curiously. Matthew rapidly shook his head.

"Nu-uh! I know you guys are kind of close, but he can be seriously creepy! I don't really understand what anyone would see in him as a boyfriend."

The superhero Alfred was drawing began to take a more defined shape, and Alfred seemed to enjoy fleshing out the rippling muscles of his chest under a skintight costume.

"There's plenty to like about Ivan. He's built, for one. You think he's just husky because he's always got on so many clothes, but I've seen him with his shirt off and—"

"Wait. When did you see him with his shirt off?" Matthew asked.

"He trains with me. He's competitive, and he'd be awesome if they'd let him on a team, but his behavior last year ruined his chances to try out."

"So you guys work out together?" Matthew asked. He'd always wondered how Alfred and Ivan spent their time, but it made sense that it was something "manly." Despite his sweet nature, Alfred was sometimes overbearingly competitive. Arthur would frequently complain that he had to periodically stop playing their online shooting game because Alfred was taking it too seriously. Ivan, however, relished Alfred's company when the other boy was all worked up.

"Yeah. He knows a lot about weight lifting, but I can outrun him. I'd swap bodies with him in a heartbeat. I'm gonna catch up to him, though. I read about it on Wikipedia."

"Read about what?" Matthew asked, trying not to laugh.

"You know—puberty and stuff. I just haven't hit my muscle growth phase yet. I've got some hair coming in though. I'm totally gonna grow a mustache this year."

"That'll be…interesting," Matthew said, trying not to offend. It was obvious Alfred was being very serious. Matthew bit his lip to prevent himself from smiling.

"Francis is so lucky. He could grow a beard. I wonder if that's why Arthur's got the hots for him?" Alfred mused. Matthew's brows shot up in surprise.

"Arthur has the hots for Francis?"

"He's mentioned his hair before—kind of in a jealous, pissy sort of way—and he's said he really likes blue eyes."

"What about you? What do you like about guys?" Matthew asked, refraining from pointing out the obvious fact that Alfred also had very blue eyes. Alfred shrugged a bit uncomfortably, suddenly focusing intently on his drawing.

"Promise you won't tell Arthur? My answer might hurt his feelings a bit…if he really does like me as much as you seem to think," he said after a moment. Extremely curious, Matthew readily agreed to Alfred's condition. "I've thought about a lot of guys in school…but I probably think about Ivan the most. Well, it's a toss-up between Ivan and Berwald. But ever since I saw Berwald propose to his roommate, I've felt a little bad about…you know…thinking about him."

Matthew was a little surprised, and a little disappointed that Alfred wasn't super-attracted to Arthur. He found himself arguing for the prince's case.

"But Arthur has his own appeal. He's got gorgeous green eyes, and nice skin. I admit, he's a little on the short side…and those eyebrows are a bit…erm…defining…but he's…he's…"

"Arthur's pretty. So is Francis. Hell, so are you. Haven't you ever wanted to just…I dunno…get in a wrestling match with some really strong, muscular guy, and then it gets all…and you're all…and it's just really hard and sweaty and tough and…I'm guessing by the look on your face that's a no?" Alfred said with a bit of a grin. Matthew couldn't help it. He finally started chuckling.

"Let me get this straight. You fantasize about wrestling with some burly guy like Ivan and then having rough sex?"

"Not like…all the time. I saw how you and Francis were—all the cuddling, and the hand-holding. I'd like to do those things with Arthur—I mean, a guy like Arthur—and I don't picture myself dating a guy like Ivan…but I would really like to…err…wrestle with him."

"I think I get what you're saying…I guess I'm just lucky in the fact that the kind of guy I'm attracted to and the kind of guy I want to date are the same person. It's like that game where you have to pick, out of all the people you know, the person you'd marry, the person you'd go on a date with, and the person you'd have a one night stand with. I'd marry Francis, I'd date…well…let's just not go there… and I'd have a one night stand with Gilbert. I don't like his baggy pants, and he's obviously going nowhere in life…but his whole bad-boy act is kind of hot—only sometimes, though. Most of the time, though, I really just want to smack him," Matthew said with a smile.

"Gilbert? Seriously? He calls you butt muncher. Wanting to sleep with him is totally weirder than my wrestling fantasy. Anyways…I'd marry Arthur, I'd date you, and I'd totally have a one-night stand with Ivan…but only if I won and got to be on top. Man…I can't believe I just said that. I'm gonna go back to my drawing now. I'd like to pretend that whole conversation never happened," Alfred said, a bright flush darkening his cheeks. His phone buzzed again, and Matthew snickered.

"Better hurry and check your text from your wrestling buddy," Matthew said. Alfred hurled a pillow playfully at his friend, but flipped open his phone with a hint of eagerness Matthew had never noticed before. Matthew smiled and added, "But, yeah, I'd date you, too. Francis would probably never forgive me, and he'd claim I loved you more than him, but I've thought about it once or twice since we kissed. I mean, Francis is a much better kisser, but for your first kiss with a guy…it was pretty impressive. You certainly went for it. My first kiss was just a peck."

Alfred glanced up at him, almost shyly. He toyed with his phone in his hands, biting on the corner of his lip.

"Would you…ever want to do it again? I mean, I know you love Francis…and I'm not really sure what's going on with me…but it could be fun. Just to waste some time," Alfred said, feigning casualty. "And you could give me some pointers, you know, since you've done it more than me."

"I'm pretty sure Francis is trying his damned hardest to get into Arthur's pants right about now…so why not? I could give you some…err…tutoring?" Matthew proposed. He smiled a little naughtily. "It's probably not as fun as wrestling, of course, but tutoring can be very beneficial."

Alfred had set his drawing aside and steadily moved closer to Matthew during his response, still biting nervously on his lower lip.

"Before I decide if I don't want to be gay, I should at least give it a fair shot," Alfred explained, his blue eyes fixed hungrily on Matthew's lips. His friend smiled encouragingly and closed the distance between them, pressing his lips gently to Alfred's, his eyes fluttering shut.

Alfred, however, seemed to have only one setting when it came to matters of romance, and that setting was full speed ahead. Matthew let out a little 'oomph' of surprise as the over-energetic boy pushed him backwards to the bed, pressing wet kisses all down his jaw, and making Matthew feel a bit like he'd been tackled by a large, over-enthusiastic puppy.

"Err…Alfred…a little less slobber, please!" Matthew said. There was really no other word for it. Alfred pulled back for a just a second, blinked rather innocently, and then nodded with adorable earnestness. He went back to his task using less of his tongue and more of his lips.

"Mmm…that's better. Oh! Um…not up my shirt," Matthew said, modestly pulling his shirt down, blocking off Alfred's wandering hands. Any further advice or instruction Matthew might have given was delayed, as Alfred returned eagerly to his mouth. Once again, he came on a little too strongly, and Matthew pushed lightly on his shoulders.

"Am I doing it wrong?" Alfred asked.

"No, just slow it down some. It's not a race," Matthew advised. This bit of wisdom seemed to fall on deaf ears, though, as Alfred delved back in with just as much excitement and enthusiasm as before. In fact, speaking of excitement…

This time, Matthew pushed him rather forcefully.

"Okay, this is getting a little weird," he said, indicating with a glance downwards that Alfred was tenting his pants. Alfred tried to conceal it, blushing hotly.

"I'm sorry! It's not you…well, I mean…it's kinda you, but it happens, like, all the time now. Yesterday, I was just talking to Arthur in the library—that's all—and I kinda squeezed his hand before he left, and it was one of those really nice moments, ya know? And then bam. All the sudden, the librarian is glaring at me and I had to carry a big dictionary in front of my junk until I could duck behind a shelf and think about Professor Simmons doing the chicken dance naked. Thank god Arthur didn't notice as he was leaving."

For a long moment, Matthew simply stared…then he burst out laughing.

"Shut up, Mattie! It's totally not funny! I can't help it if like, everything turns me on!"

When Matthew finally regained control of himself, he shoved Alfred towards the door.

"On second thought, I think it's always just going to be a little weird between you and me. Sorry I can't help you out with the kissing thing, but you should probably go back to your own room and…you know. Take care of that."

"Aww, but Mattie!"

"Try the pouting on Arthur the next time he touches your hand and you get a stiffy. I've noticed he doesn't seem to have much of a defense against those blue eyes of yours. That's probably the only advice I can give you. You'll just have to figure the rest out on your own."

Ignoring Alfred's amusing protests, Matthew firmly shut his door…and promptly giggled.

'Poor Arthur. He's going to have his hands full with that one,' Matthew thought. Absently, his eyes fell on Alfred's phone, currently buzzing half-hidden in his sheets. He retrieved it, and flipped it open curiously. The text from Ivan opened automatically.

What Yao doesn't know won't hurt him.

His eyebrows shooting up in surprise, Matthew hastily opened Alfred's sent messages, quickly scanning them. He just couldn't resist! The first had been from Alfred:

Having fun with Yao?

Ivan's reply was a little vague:

This place is dangerous for him, but I am here. He'll be fine. Why are you asking?

Alfred's reply was definitely flirtatious (or at least Alfred's version of flirty):

Mattie and I are talking about you, that's all. I was telling him you're pretty built, but that I'm totally gonna be stronger than you.

Ivan, perhaps very aware that Alfred had a thing for him, had no trouble picking up on it:

Don't get too jealous of Yao. We just like mixing our business with our pleasure. I haven't forgotten about you. In fact, I might think about you some tonight.

Matthew blushed, and clicked back hurriedly to see Alfred's response to that. Sure enough, it had been the statement that provoked the initial text Matthew had accidentally read:

What about Yao?

Matthew hurriedly snapped the phone closed, somehow feeling like he should warn Arthur that Alfred and Ivan's friendship was tip-toeing into dangerous territory. Matthew's feelings were almost a little hurt that he apparently wasn't the only friend Alfred was cozying up to, but then he realized he didn't really care all that much.

He did feel a little bad for Arthur, though. Arthur would certainly care about what Alfred had been instigating with his friends. Matthew frowned, however, as another thought occurred to him, 'Arthur is currently making out with my boyfriend. What do I care if the boy he likes is crushing on other people? It's not like they're dating, and it's none of my business anyway. If I want to stay friends with everyone, I really just need to stay out of it…and if I ever want Francis back, I really need to stop kissing Alfred.'

With this resolution firmly in mind, Matthew marked the new message as unread, and tossed the phone back on his bed. Alfred would no doubt return for it later.

USUK

Arriving home had been a rather loud affair. With awful timing, his three older brothers had arrived home nearly at the same time Arthur and Francis had pulled up. Not to mention, Arthur's oldest brothers, Colin and Dylan, were both married. Although Arthur's family home was large, when faced with the simultaneous arrival of seven people, all carrying baggage and Christmas presents, it suddenly felt very small.

"There you are squirt! How's it going at old World Academy?" Patrick asked, roughly musing Arthur's hair. The short prince glared in annoyance at his red-headed brother. Patrick was the family odd-ball in the looks department. With a brunette mother and a blond father, the best anyone could guess was that Patrick inherited his red hair from a grandparent.

"Fine," Arthur said, trying to dodge his brother's rough housing. Francis also looked concerned by the prospect of the hyper red-head ruining his hairstyle, and merely smiled at him politely as he inched away.

"Francis! I am so happy you've come!" Arthur's mother enthused. Despite not having seen her sons for quite awhile, she only had eyes for Francis. The French boy smiled graciously at her and returned her hug.

"How have you been?" Francis asked, real warmth in his voice. As his mother went about fussing over Francis, Arthur took a moment to give his father and his eldest brother, Colin, a hug in greeting.

"Still making good grades?" Colin asked. His wife, a very pretty girl that Colin had met during his own days at World Academy, also stepped forward to give Arthur a hug.

"Top marks," Arthur replied, though it came as no surprise to his family, who had always known him to be a studious book worm. Dylan worked his way through the crowd of family (and Francis) and greeted his youngest brother.

"I see you survived your first semester. Mum says you haven't even run home every weekend like we all thought you would," Dylan said. Out of all his brothers, Arthur had the most fights with Dylan. Patrick was rough and rowdy, but he never took much interest in Arthur when they'd all been growing up. He'd always been outside, playing and getting dirty, running the grounds from morning till dusk. Colin had been much older, but Dylan had been just old enough to be jealous of the way Arthur was babied, and bigger and stronger enough to do something about it when their parents weren't watching.

Apparently, Dylan's new wife shared Dylan's dislike of Arthur—she pointedly avoided greeting him. Of course, Arthur had been a bit rude to her the summer previous, when he'd found her to be boring company and clearly only after his brother's fame and wealth. The two of them had gotten married against their parents' wishes, as they were both fairly young still—just in their second year of university. All the tabloids suspected they'd be divorced before the end of the year, despite the flashy wedding they'd had.

Francis sidled up to him. "Your family gets larger and larger. Can we not slip away to your room?" Arthur nodded and they somehow managed to untangle their baggage from the massive pile and take the stairs up to Arthur's expansive rooms.

Upon entering, Francis flopped gracefully onto Arthur's bed.

"Your room hasn't changed a bit since you were six. Still nothing but dusty old books and that beloved tea set of yours," Francis remarked amusedly. "It's like my grandmother's room…except my grandmother has better taste."

"That is quite enough. You needn't worry about my dusty books, as you'll be staying in your usual room, and you won't have much reason to be in here," Arthur said primly. Francis waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"But we are dating now, no? I may not care for the books, but I'm very interested in your bed," Francis all but purred. Just as Arthur was beginning to get a little flustered, there was an energetic knock on the door.

"Oy, Francis, your mum just got here!" Patrick called as he passed. Francis sat up in surprise.

"My mother? What is she doing here? She and my father were supposed to be travelling over the vacation."

"Well, you know them. Maybe they had a fight and she changed her plans?" Arthur mused. With an annoyed sigh, Francis dragged himself off the bed to go investigate. Already, they could hear the overjoyed, excited chatter of their mothers reuniting downstairs.

Grateful to have the room to himself for a moment, Arthur sunk into his favorite armchair near the window and flipped open his phone. No messages yet from Alfred. He wanted to text him, but he wanted Alfred to text him first. Of course, that was just silly, as they texted each other all the time and their exchange in the library certainly hadn't changed anything…

'But it feels different now…he's finally acknowledged that there's something between us,' Arthur thought hopefully. He shot himself down quickly, though. 'No. He just warned me to be careful with Francis. That doesn't automatically mean he wants to be with me instead. All this love rot is utterly confusing!' Arthur griped silently. He hesitated a few moments and then pulled up an empty message box on his phone.

Hey. Just got home. Is it too early to come back? lol

There. That was simple and normal enough. That didn't imply that he had feelings for him, or that he was already missing him, or that he really wished he'd invited Alfred home with him instead of Francis. Almost instantly, his phone buzzed with a reply from Alfred.

This is Mattie. Al left his phone on my bed. He's showering right now.

Arthur blinked at the seemingly innocent message that made him seriously want to go straight back to World Academy. What had Alfred been doing on Matthew's bed? The rational part of Arthur knew they'd probably just been hanging out together there, and nothing had happened at all, but it certainly sounded suggestive. Why would he need to shower afterwards if they'd just been sitting there, not-kissing?

This time, it was Colin who popped his head in the room and interrupted Arthur's fretful musings.

"Who's so important that you're ignoring your family to text? Dating someone so soon?" Colin asked teasingly. Arthur predictably blushed and snapped his phone closed. He'd have to get Francis's opinion on the text message later, when his brothers weren't so eager to make up for all the teasing he'd avoided by being at school in the previous months.

"It's nothing important. I just don't like all the chaos downstairs. I'll come down once everyone's settled in," Arthur said primly. Colin just gave him a fond smile and came further into his room, leaving his rolling suitcase by the door. Colin was fairly good-looking, the tallest in the family with a thick head of auburn hair. He'd gone to university in Scotland, where his wife's family was from. While he didn't sound totally Scottish, Arthur thought his accent had definitely changed a bit since he'd moved there. It was strange to think that the older brother who had helped him learn to tie his shoe laces and picked him up from kindergarten in his first car was now married and working, living far from home. It was almost to the point where Arthur only saw him around Christmas time.

"How has it really been at school? Are you doing okay? Making friends?" Colin asked. Arthur smiled a bit sadly at him, at the same time the thought crossed his mind that Colin would make a good dad some day.

"It's been good, truly. I like my roommate a lot," he said. Colin grinned knowingly.

"I know. Whenever I call mum and ask about how you're doing, she says all you talk about is Alfred-this and Alfred-that."

"Oh. I don't talk about him that much," Arthur said with a blush. "I might have mentioned him…once or twice…"

"Well, I think it's great you've finally made some other friends your age. Nothing against Francis, but the two of you have always been a bit like oil and water."

"Heh…funny you should say that…" Arthur began. He was about to confess to Colin that he and Francis were dating, but he hadn't been able to continue. He had no idea why the urge to say it had suddenly overcome him so strongly, but he held his tongue at the last moment.

"Yeah?" Colin asked, encouraging Arthur to continue. He was distracted, however, by his wife calling for him down the hall. "We'll talk again later, okay, Arthur?" And Colin was out the door, leaving Arthur feeling flustered. He hadn't thought about telling his family what he'd learned about himself since going to World Academy, but now it seemed like a fairly obvious thing to do. Were the holidays a good time to do it, though? What if it made his mother and father upset? He didn't think it would, but he had no way of knowing. Dylan would most certainly be a twat about it. He wished he could tell everyone except Dylan.

'And I wish it was Alfred here meeting them all instead of Francis,' Arthur thought glumly. Somehow, even though Francis was smooth and always knew just what to say, Arthur would have rather had the sweet, never-faltering support of his best friend at his back.

"Arthur, honey! Come down stairs so Madeline can get a good look at you!" his mother called. With a sigh, Arthur headed back towards the stairs. He should have known better than to think he'd be able to sit around thinking things over in such a busy, noisy household. Maybe he could slip away a little later and give Alfred a call to hear his take on it all. Talking things out with Alfred usually helped him clear his head.

He was downstairs for nearly an hour listening to everyone talk after that. Francis's mother had indeed had a fight with her husband and had left him in the Alps, deciding instead to come visit her best friend and her son. Arthur eyed Francis and his mother a bit nervously all night. In the past, the two of them had been inseparably close, but growing up had lead Francis to discover things about his parents' relationship that made him question his long standing loyalty to his mother, and now he found himself estranged from his father and disappointed in his mother.

It was all rather messy, and not for the first time, Arthur thought Francis's parents should just hurry up and get divorced already, instead of dragging it out for years and tormenting Francis in the meantime. It made him incredibly grateful for his own parents, who'd always been sensible and loving with each other. They were rather boring, but at least they were stable and predictable.

Watching his mother and her friend was certainly interesting, though. It was true what they said about opposites attracting. Madeline was a pretty woman, though she swore everything from her toes to her eyebrows needed altering. She was naturally stylish, though prone to being a bit too thin. She was reserved and a little shy with people she didn't know, but with her old friend, she was loud and expressive—just like Francis. By contrast, Arthur's mother was homely and rather plain looking. Her one feature of note was her rather pretty green eyes, which she'd given to both Patrick and Arthur. She was short, had always been a little plump, but her quiet, steady confidence had won her the heart of Arthur's father even though scores of glamorous women were always throwing themselves at him as a younger man.

He wondered if his own relationships would be as successful as that of his parents, and somehow doubted it. Already he was dating the wrong person, and he'd made a total mess of his first kiss. Distracted by his family, Arthur had forgotten all about the text he'd sent to Alfred until his phone buzzed in his pocket. He flipped it open eagerly, off in his own little world.

Why do you want to come back? It's not bad at home, is it? Is Dylan being an ass?

Arthur smiled at how Alfred knew his family without having ever met them. He'd opened up a lot to Alfred about his brothers and his parents, even without realizing he had. With a soft smile, Arthur replied:

He's warming up. I wish you'd come instead of Francis. His mum is here, though.

Arthur waited for Alfred's reply and re-read Matthew's suggestive message in the meantime. Finally, his phone buzzed.

My mom is making me get braces tomorrow. Lame!

Arthur winced, and was about to type something back about how ridiculous Alfred's mother was being, when his phone was snatched out of his hand.

"Let's see what's so interesting that Arthur hasn't said a word all night?" Dylan teased, scrolling easily to Arthur's inbox. Arthur reached for the phone ineffectually, but Dylan was already reading Alfred's messages…including the one about himself.

"Hey! What have you been telling your little boyfriend about me?" Dylan said, clearly genuinely angry now instead of just teasing. Their mother was trying to calm them both down—ordering Dylan to return the phone and chiding Arthur for talking poorly about his brother. It was no use, though. Dylan and Arthur were already scuffling, though Dylan clearly had the upper hand. Much to Arthur's annoyance, Francis was laughing at him, as he always had when Dylan teased him as a kid.

"Stop laughing, you arse! You could help!" Arthur accused.

"Watch your language, Arthur," his father scolded. With his face trapped under Dylan's sweaty armpit, Arthur didn't give a crap about his language. Finally, Colin snatched the phone from Dylan and Patrick helped tug him free. Arthur's eldest brother handed him his phone back and then lightly cuffed Dylan on the back of the head.

"Ease up on him, Dylan. It's not your place to out him."

"Wait! What?" Arthur said, trying to regain his bearings. His mother cleared her throat nervously and tried to make an obvious topic change.

"No! We're not changing the subject! What was that supposed to mean?" Arthur demanded. Colin shifted uneasily, as if he were wishing he'd just kept his mouth shut. His wife was glaring at him, and Dylan was snickering.

"Oh, come of it already, Arthur. Mum's been teasing you about this Alfred kid all semester. The whole bloody country saw those pictures of your little visit to grandmum," Dylan said. "Besides, we all know your bent."

"So why didn't Alfred come? Of course, I'm thrilled Francis is here…but I was rather hoping to meet this boy of yours," his mother said with a nervous smile. Feeling ambushed, Arthur felt his cheeks turn a fiery red.

"I'm not dating Alfred! You think you're all so smart—shows what you know! Francis and I have been dating for…for ages! So you can all shut the bloody hell up!" Arthur shouted, before storming out of the kitchen rather dramatically. Because of this, he missed the surprised and then elated looks on both Madeline and his mother's face.

Sitting between them, Francis looked absolutely horrified. It was too late for him to run, though.

"This is too good to be true! I'd always hoped…" Madeline started.

"I thought when Arthur was a boy we'd lost our chance for our kids to get married, but now they will and it's going to be just the cutest thing!" Arthur's mother enthused happily. Nearby, Arthur's father merely looked resigned, as if he'd known all along his son would come out of the closet one day and had merely been waiting for it to happen. Colin laughed at his mother's antics.

"I think you're making Francis feel a bit smothered, mum. Let the poor lad go talk to Arthur. You know he's going to be a in right snit after all this. He'll probably be furious with me all week," Colin said. His wife shot him an irritated look.

"Colin, you really shouldn't have teased him like that. Arthur's a very sensitive boy," she said, only to be cut off by Dylan.

"And it's about time we stopped babying him. We were never allowed to play with our phones during family time," Dylan said. His mother waved at him to hush.

"Arthur is different from you boys. He's never made friends as easily and he's so mature for his age. I've had to make exceptions for him. Now you stop giving him a hard time, do you hear me Dylan?" his mother demanded. Feeling a little overwhelmed, Francis left the room, ignoring all the questions and comments that trailed after him. Instead of going after Arthur, he lost himself in a random hallway (Arthur's home was a castle, after all) and pressed the speed dial for Matthew.

"Hello?" Matthew answered. He sounded happy that Francis had called. Francis, in turn, was happy and calmed just by hearing his voice.

"Matthew, it was a terrible mistake to come here. You won't believe how Arthur has just made a mess of things. To make matters worse, my mother showed up without giving me any notice, and now she and Arthur's mother are downstairs planning the nursery for my and Arthur's first child."

"Oh, wow! Um…that crazy, huh?" Matthew said. Francis slid to the floor, the phone cradled against his jaw.

"I bet you're with Alfred now, aren't you?" he asked, not knowing why he had to purposefully pick a fight. Sure enough, Matthew sighed tellingly.

"He left earlier, actually. I was just about to take a walk." Francis frowned.

"It's too late for you to go out walking alone, even if the campus is practically empty," Francis fretted. He could practically hear Matthew's amused smile. Matthew always loved when he fussed over him. It came quite naturally to Francis to do so, though he'd never cared what his romantic interests did in the past.

"I'll be careful, I promise. I'm glad you called," Matthew said, in his soft, lilting French. Francis closed his eyes, just letting the voice on the other end surround him, like a warm blanket.

"I think I was stupid for breaking up with you," Francis said. He frowned a bit at how pathetic he was being. Only one day away from Matthew and he was already caving like a house of cards. "But Arthur is so loud, and his family is tiresome, and my mother looks awful and I just wish I was with you now instead of here," Francis added. There was a long moment of quiet on the other end of the phone before Matthew replied.

"I still think being apart for a bit will be good for us…but I do miss you, more than I can really say," Matthew's soft voice said. Francis smiled, reveling in the comfort of slipping back into such easy familiarity with Matthew. The days that they had spent fighting had been horrible. Francis felt drained and tired of it all.

"How much do you miss me?" he asked, a little babyishly. Matthew was smiling when he replied, Francis could tell, because it always amused him when Francis pouted.

"You know I love you, Francis. When you come back, can't we put all this behind us and go back to the way we were?" Matthew asked. Francis smiled, finally ready to make amends, and let his jealousy of Alfred go. It was not worth losing Matthew over.

"I love you too, mon cher. I will tell Arthur we are done. I've been foolish, haven't I?" Francis asked. He delighted in the delicate laugh this statement earned from Matthew.

"Just a little. I was at fault, too. I should never have kissed Alfred."

"Then we are together again?" Francis asked. Matthew, however, was quiet for a long time on the other end of the line. Finally, he replied, crushing Francis's mood of happy elation.

"Let's wait till we can talk face to face. You're having a bad afternoon and you're under a lot of stress. I just want us both to be sure we're doing the right thing," Matthew said. Francis scowled into the phone.

"You just want to make me suffer for breaking up with you. You're punishing me," Francis accused. Matthew sighed.

"Francis, don't be that way. This really isn't about you. I just want some time to be on my own—to think about things. So much has changed this year, and I just need some time to get my head wrapped around it all. I love you, though. I promise everything will work out okay once you're back at school. Just give me some space right now. You're always saying I don't talk to you…well, now I'm talking. I need a bit of a break, but I don't want it to be forever."

Francis chewed delicately on his bottom lip, trying to understand why Matthew would want to be with him and apart from him at the same time. Still, what the other boy said was true. Francis had accused him of not communicating, and now that he was, it would be hypocritical of him to dismiss Matthew's wishes simply because they didn't make any sense.

"Okay. I don't really understand, but I can wait till after vacation. I'll end things with Arthur. You're the only one I want, Matthew," Francis said softly. He hoped Matthew would make a similar statement about avoiding Alfred, and only wanting to be with him, but none came.

"Okay. Try not to get too stressed, and be sensitive to Arthur. Coming out to his family couldn't have been easy, no matter how he acts about it," Matthew said. "Be a good friend to him now when he needs one and Alfred can't be there."

A little annoyed that their conversation was ending, once again, on the subject of Alfred, Francis promised to take care of Arthur in Alfred's stead and hung up the phone.

Down a few hallways, Arthur had locked himself firmly in his room and called Alfred. As tears built up in his eyes and slid down his face, the phone rang and rang.

"Answer, Alfred!" Arthur begged. His friend's voice finally replied.

"Hey!—"

"Alfred! I'm so—"

"Superman here. I can't get to my phone right now, 'cause I'm busy saving the world!" Before the beep could cut in, Arthur's own voice echoed in the background of the recording, "Alfred, you twit, leave a proper message so people aren't confused when they call you!" And Alfred's amused voice continued, "Fiiiiine. You've reached the phone of Alfred the Twit. The real reason I can't answer the phone is that I'm busy pestering Arthur. I'll call ya later! BEEP!"

Alfred's obnoxious beep noise was followed by the actual beep. Arthur had forgotten all about Alfred's silly answering machine message, and it surprised him by how cheesy they sounded. Feeling a little better despite everything, he smiled through his tears.

"Hey Alfred. Give me a call when you get the chance, okay? Things got really weird at home and I—"

Arthur heard the beeping indicating someone was trying to call him. "Oh, bollocks, I think you're calling me right now." He clicked over, hoping to hear his friend's real voice.

"Arthur? You call?"

"Yeah, did I wake you?" He felt a little guilty as he heard a massive yawn on the other end.

"Yeah, but no biggie. I'd barely fallen asleep. Are you okay? You sound upset."

"It's just…Dylan read your text message—read quite a few of them, actually—and he started teasing me about it and he just practically outed me, and everyone's acting like it's no big deal, like they already knew, and I suppose I should be happy they aren't upset but it's still so bloody awkward and—"

"Easy, easy, Arthur! You just came out. That's a pretty big deal. It's no wonder you're a little on edge, but its okay, right? Nobody's yelling at you, or giving you a hard time, are they?" Alfred asked. Arthur sniffled a bit, trying to regain his composure.

"No…no, everything's alright technically…but they also know I'm dating Francis," Arthur said. Quite endearingly, Alfred huffed in annoyance.

"You're not really dating him. He's just being a dick to Matthew and you got in the crossfire."

"We are dating, Alfred," Arthur replied, an amused smile tugging at his lips. He could practically see Alfred rolling his eyes at him.

"Fine, whatever you say. If you wanna count your fake boyfriend—"

"He's not my fake boyfriend!" Arthur protested. Despite the topic actually being a little sensitive between them, Arthur could tell Alfred was arguing with him just to make him feel better…and it was slightly disturbing to realize it was actually working.

"Okay, so your temporary make-out buddy until you get a real boyfriend. I'll settle on that," Alfred replied magnanimously. Arthur snorted.

"You're just jealous because I invited Francis instead of you," Arthur said with a smirk. His best friend (predictably) began to pout and whine.

"Arthur, you have to say that you like me more than Francis. Say it or I won't let you hang up the phone," Alfred sounded ridiculous, but it made Arthur laugh.

"And if I refuse to make such a ridiculous statement?" Arthur asked. Alfred laughed.

"Then I guess you'll have to talk to me all night. Feeling any better?" Alfred asked. Arthur realized he had stopped crying at some point and actually did feel perfectly relaxed. He got more comfortable in his armchair and watched the freshly fallen snow pile up on his windowpane.

"I do now. Thanks, Alfred," he said quietly. His best friend smiled, though Arthur couldn't see it, and prattled on expertly.

"Oh, hey, I have a super funny story to tell you!" Arthur ignored the quiet knocking on his door and focused instead on Alfred's voice, just letting it soothe away his stress and worries. In the hallway, Francis lingered a few moments before deciding he would talk to Arthur about everything in the morning. It could wait until then.

A/N: An extra long chapter to make up for the extra short one last week. So I had fun with this chapter. There will probably be another few chapters about the break, as it's going to be a busy two weeks for everyone. But yeah, so finally a more vulnerable side to Arthur starting with his drunken neediness and now we see how sensitive he is around his family. I hope you liked this chapter, even though it had disturbing foreshadowing for some IvanXAlfred, lol. :P Oh, and I'm starting on the next chapter now, so you can expect it up later this evening.

Colin – Scotland - 26

Dylan – Wales - 21

Patrick – Ireland - 19

Arthur – Britain - 15