Chapter 16

"You are beautiful, you know?" Francis said with a smile. The autumn sunset highlighted his soft, wavy hair and his cheeks looked a little red in the cool air. Matthew smiled at the other boy's words and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

"I want it to always be like this. It will be, won't it?" Matthew asked nervously. Francis smiled at him again and leaned over, his lips coming achingly close.

"BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!"

Matthew awoke with a grimace of confusion. He slumped in disappointment when he realized it had just been a dream…and not one that even featured his current boyfriend. Feeling guilty, Matthew turned off his phone alarm and swung his feet over the side of his bed. Across the room, Alex continued to snore like a log, completely oblivious to the sounds of the alarm. His soft, white teddy bear caught his eye and Matthew pulled it into the circle of his arms. He hugged the bear and rested his chin on its head, still thinking absent thoughts of Francis.

Ever since he'd returned for the dance…to be Michelle's date…Matthew couldn't stop dreaming about him. He'd even mixed up Gilbert and Francis's names the day before. Luckily, Gilbert had laughed it off, but Matthew still felt terrible. As Matthew headed to the bathroom to start his morning, his phone beeped once more to remind him that Alfred's plane left today.

They still hadn't really spoken since he'd not so subtly alerted Mr. Allowick to Alfred's problem. At first, Alfred had avoided him, and then Matthew had gotten busy with hockey practice and doing stuff with Gilbert and Alex. He couldn't put it off any longer, though. He and Alfred needed to talk about everything, really. The eating disorder had shocked him, and he'd been doing a ton of thinking about it. Alex had made some insensitive remarks about it and Matthew had surprised himself by rather aggressively defending his old friend. For a moment, he'd been worried his outburst would cost him Alex's friendship, but the Cuban boy merely smiled and shrugged it off.

"I still don't see what's so great about Alfred Jones, but if that's how you feel about it, I'm glad you spoke up. If it bugs you, I won't talk about it anymore. It's really none of my business anyway," Alex had said casually. Matthew had been surprised, relieved, and a little proud of himself all at the same time. Last year, he would have never told someone off for anything.

Matthew replayed that memory in his mind as he brushed his teeth. He would likely have another confrontation with a friend today, and he was hoping it would end equally well. When he was showered and dressed, he woke up Alex and then headed towards Alfred's dorm.

When he knocked, it was Arthur who answered. He looked a little surprised to see him, but he smiled warmly.

"Morning, Matthew. Here for Alfred?" he asked. Matthew nodded and came inside, noting the suitcase half-packed on the bed.

"He's just finishing up in the bathroom. If you two wanted to talk some, I can finish packing his bag. He can't fold his shirts properly anyway," Arthur said. It was only because Matthew had known him so long that he could sense the nervousness in Arthur's voice. Being perhaps the most mature out of all of their friends, Arthur likely understood that Matthew and Alfred's friendship was on very fragile ground.

"Okay," Matthew said. He paused awkwardly for a moment, wanting to apologize for some reason, but not really knowing for what to apologize. The moment passed and instead he said a simple, "Thanks…for letting us work this out on our own."

Arthur blushed a little but smiled as he sat down beside Alfred's suitcase.

"Well, you know me. Alfred's the one that tries to run around solving everyone's problems. I try to stay out of it. We're growing up. It's natural that we fight a bit."

"Yeah…it sucks, though," Matthew said glumly. "Sometimes I wish things didn't have to change."

Arthur flashed him a small, half-smile. "I think you've changed in good ways this year, too. How are things with Gilbert?"

Before Matthew could answer, Alfred emerged from the bathroom in his towel. He already looked healthier than he had just a week before. He looked a little fuller and his eyes had that familiar spark of life in them once more. Alfred looked startled to see Matthew in his room and he blushed, hastily finding a T-shirt and pulling it on.

"Hey Matt! Didn't expect you to drop by," Alfred said. His words were partly muffled through the cotton of his shirt. Arthur gave Matthew an encouraging wink and tossed a pair of gym shorts to his boyfriend.

"I'll finish packing for you. Why don't you and Matthew take a walk?"

Alfred looked nervous, but there was no arguing with Arthur, so he awkwardly pulled on his gym shorts and slipped on his sneakers. "Is it cold out?" he asked. Matthew shook his head.

"Not really. A little bit."

"Okay," Alfred said, as he also grabbed a sweatshirt off a nearby chair. Arthur looked a little surprised when he did so.

"Alfred, did you move my book? I was certain I left my favorite copy of Hamlet on that chair," Arthur said. Distracted by Matthew's presence, Alfred just shrugged.

"I'm sure it'll turn up. We'll be back in a bit, okay?" With one last nervous glance at Arthur, Alfred left the room with Matthew trailing behind him. Immediately, Alfred stuffed his hands in his pockets and began examining the ceiling. Matthew clutched his shoulder bag and bit his lip.

"So…" Alfred said after only a few moments of silence. He never could handle the quiet for very long. Matthew smiled.

"Alfred…Alfie…I owe you an apology," Matthew said, stopping in the hallway. It was hard, but he looked Alfred square in the eyes and tried not to stammer over his words. The blue-eyed quarterback blinked a little in surprise.

"For telling Mr. Allowick about me?" he asked. Matthew shook his head.

"Not that. You needed to talk to an adult about it, and I knew you and him were close. I'm apologizing for being part of the problem in the first place."

"What do you mean?" Alfred asked.

"Al, we've both been pretty stupid this year. You ignored me all summer—"

"But I already—"

"I know. Just let me finish, okay?" Matthew said, not willing to be overpowered for once. A little surprised, Alfred was quiet.

"You ignored me and that really, really hurt my feelings. But what I didn't realize at the time was that I was more hurt by what was going on with Francis and me…and I guess I took that frustration out on you. Then when we broke up, I felt like you didn't even care. My point is that I should have just told you how I was feeling instead of bottling all that up and making new friends. I mean, I'm glad Alex and Gilbert are my friends now…but I shouldn't have ever made you feel like you'd been replaced. That's how you made me feel this summer, but I know you didn't do it on purpose. I did do it on purpose, though, and that's why I'm sorry. I should have talked to you about why I was upset instead of making you feel like you weren't a good person and embarrassing you. I was just mad about Michelle, and about Francis, too."

"Wow," Alfred said. "I didn't know, Matt," Alfred replied. He scratched at the back of his neck a little sheepishly.

"Do you…I mean…do you think we can be friends again? Like the way we were?" Matthew asked nervously. Alfred gave him a huge smile and pulled him into a tight hug that surprised the more slender boy. "Ack! Can't…breathe!" he choked out. Alfred just laughed and ruffled his hair playfully.

"Of course we're still best friends. Always. But Matt…I think we still gotta talk about Michelle."

Matthew groaned and frowned a bit petulantly. "I don't want to," he said.

"Mattie…you know she needs our help."

"She stole my boyfriend. I don't care what she needs," Matthew said stubbornly.

"That's not true. Mattie…you're the nicest, most forgiving friend I have. You're kind to everyone. That's why I really look up to you," Alfred said. Matthew tossed him a weak glare.

"That's low, Alfred. Turn off the puppy dog eyes. Those only work on Arthur."

"I think they work on you, too, best friend. Hear me out about her? Please?" Alfred begged. Matthew let out a long, irritated sigh but he eventually caved.

"Fine. Tell me why I should care about the girl that destroyed the relationship I had with the boy I loved just like you love Arthur," Matthew said. Alfred winced at his wording.

"I know she did a really, really bad thing coming between you and Francis like she did, but she's really messed up, Mattie! Her boyfriend died and her parents are really hard on her, and she got in this really twisted relationship with the tutor her parents hired for her—"

"You're right. She sounds charming. Let me rush to befriend her. I mean, I've got a new boyfriend and she hasn't stolen him yet," Matthew said sarcastically. Alfred stared at him for a long time and then his shoulders slumped a bit in defeat.

"She's grieving, Matt. Nobody's perfect. Maybe it's time to stop blaming her for what was ultimately Francis's choice. Francis let you go. Michelle just so happened to be the girl available when he made that really stupid choice," Alfred said, with surprising wisdom. The words literally hurt Matthew's chest, but he took a deep, shuddering breath and felt tears rolling down his cheeks.

"I don't understand…why I wasn't good enough for him," Matthew sobbed. Feeling a little misty eyed himself, Alfred pulled Matthew into another hug.

"Hey! Don't say that! You were good enough. Better than good enough. Francis was just a jerk and didn't realize it. You want me to beat him up? Because I can fly to France. I'll break his nose again." Matthew laughed a little against Alfred's sweatshirt and his sobs calmed to sniffles.

"I just want to be over him, you know? But I can't! Gilbert's sweet and funny and hot but I still…I still can't stop thinking about Francis. I don't want to love him anymore! He's insensitive and self-absorbed and…and…"

"And he's French," Alfred added, as if his nationality alone was an insult. Matthew gave Alfred a watery-eyed glare. The boyish blond smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "What? I mean, come on, he's really French. Ah-hon-hon-hon! Come sample this fancy wine! Let us nibble cheese while we do so and talk about how fabulous my hair is and the fact that I am already growing facial hair and Alfred isn't!" Alfred grinned mischievously while Matthew bit back his smile. "Come on—he sounds just like that, and you know it!"

Matthew settled on weakly smacking Alfred's shoulder, and pulling out of his hug with a roll of his eyes.

"He's not that bad. He's never told you to your face that he's better looking," Matthew's playful grin gave him away and Alfred played along, pretending to be offended.

"Matthew! Tell me I'm prettier than Francis. You have to say it right now. Say it or I'll give you a wet willy."

"A what?" Matthew said laughing, moving nervously away from Alfred's reach. Alfred advanced playfully, blue eyes alight with mischief.

"Say it, Mattie. Alfred, you are way better looking than my slimy ex Francis."

"Alfie…you are…not better looking than Francis," Matthew retorted, before spinning on his heel and making a break for it, dashing madly down the hallway. Laughing loudly, Alfred took off after him and caught him within seconds. They fell to the ground in a rough tumble and after a moment or two of wrestling, Alfred ended up on top. He hastily slicked his finger with spit and then fought Matthew's hands down.

"ALFRED! Don't you DARE! THAT'S DISGUS—GROSS! UGH! STOP IT!" Matthew shouted, as Alfred viciously poked the wet finger into Matthew's ear, despite the Canadian's squirming.

"Say it!" Alfred demanded. Matthew squealed in disgust as Alfred re-wet the finger that had just been in his ear.

"You are SO gross! Stop it, you FREAK!"

"If you just say it, the pain will stop. Tell me the truth, Mattie," Alfred taunted in a sing-songy voice as he wiggled the glistening finger closer to Matthew's face.

"You're prettier than Francis!" Matthew shouted, wincing, his face screwed up in revulsion. Further down the hallway, Arthur poked his head out of the dorm and rolled his eyes at what he saw.

"Children…the both of them," he muttered with a smile before returning to the dorm. Back at the end of the hallway, Alfred wiped his finger off on his sweatshirt and stood, offering his hand to Matthew. The Canadian took it and stood, still rubbing his ear on his shoulder. He glared weakly at Alfred.

"Gross," he emphasized again. Alfred just grinned.

"I gotta get ready to go. When we get back…think you'd be willing to talk to Michelle? You don't have to like her, but it would do you good to tell her how she made you feel, wouldn't it?" Alfred said hopefully. Matthew considered it, putting his blind hatred for the girl aside for a moment.

Alfred was right. If he didn't learn to talk to people about his feelings, he'd only be hurting himself in the long run. Besides, it had worked out okay with both Alex and with Alfred. He had a hard time believing things would go so smoothly with Michelle, but he had to be brave enough to try.

Yao put his pencil down as he heard the ding of the washing machine. Sofia did a fair share of the housework, but her days were largely spent caring for Raivis. He was an active toddler, if not a bit on the shy side, and in the two months since they'd been living in the states, he'd begun to open up more with his new family…and get into more things that he shouldn't.

Despite being busy caring for such a big household (and it was definitely big now that Zakhar had returned from China), Yao was blissfully content. His grades hadn't lowered at all, but he hadn't rejoined any of his old extra-curricular activities. Instead, he spent his evenings doing homework and cooking big, Chinese dinners for his family of five. Zakhar had returned already knowing the situation between Ivan and Yao, and though he was at times unbearably crude about it, he accepted his nephew's choice with good humor. Ivan had always made his father proud, but Zakhar was absolutely besotted by his nephew. The two of them were peas in a pod, and Yao was relieved that Zakhar's return seemed to help Ivan cope with the loss of his father.

Nikolai Braginski was still missing. There had been no word from him for nearly two months, and the Braginski family was beginning to accept that no call would ever come. As Yao transferred the wet clothes into the dryer, he felt large hands land possessively on his hips.

Yao smiled to himself and turned his head over his shoulder, welcoming the passionate kiss Ivan gave him. While they had similar school schedules, on Tuesdays and Thursdays, Ivan had to go to class for about two hours longer than he did for remedial English and history.

When their kiss ended, Yao realized his loose, drawstring pants were now undone, and Ivan's hands had moved from his hips up under his silk shirt.

"Natalia will be home from school any moment," Yao protested. Ivan smiled, and his icy eyes flashed with lust.

"But she is not home yet, da?"

"Sofia, then, and Raivis…they've been at the park for nearly an hour. What if they walk in on us?" Yao reasoned. Ivan, however, just placed a hot, open mouthed kiss on his neck and pushed at his loose pants. They fell to the floor, the cotton rustling softly.

"Dorogoi," Ivan whispered huskily against Yao's ear. The Chinese boy heard this word often enough to know it was a term of affection—not quite "my love" but as close as Ivan was likely to ever get. It always made his stomach do funny little flips to hear Ivan's soft voice whisper such a word so intimately against his skin. His underwear hit the floor. Yao let out a little grunt of surprise when Ivan hoisted him up, essentially bending him over the dryer. Seeking a place to grab on, Yao accidentally turned the machine on and it began to rumble. A low moan of pleasure escaped his lips at the vibrating feel of the warming metal, and Ivan laughed wickedly in delight behind him. Yao shivered as a wet finger pressed against the top of his cleft and roved downwards, rubbing tight little circles around his hole. His moans increased in volume as he heard Ivan's pants being unzipped, and then a large, bracing hand curled around his slender hip.

"Open up for me," Ivan demanded, his voice deep and authoritative. It was a bit difficult, but Yao managed to get one knee on top of the dryer, leaving himself quite exposed and spread almost uncomfortably wide. All the while, the dyer rumbled away noisily beneath him and the vibrations made him grow impossibly hard. Yao gasped as the first finger slid in, quickly followed by a second. Yao flattened himself against the dryer as much as he could, biting his lip to contain the moans of pleasure as the machine hummed below him and Ivan's thick fingers began to pump in and out of him at a torturously slow speed.

"Ivan…Ivan…" Yao muttered in need, ready for more than just fingers. Ivan grunted as his slickened dick replaced his fingers and he thrust his hips sharply against Yao's backside. The dryer protested against the weight with a low, creaking noise, but continued to get warmer as it rumbled away.

Yao was close…so incredibly close…when the front door opened and he cursed rapidly under his breath in Chinese.

"We're back!" Sofia called out. Raivis could also be heard, begging for something he wanted from the kitchen…which was right next to the laundry room. Ignoring them, Ivan gave one last thrust and came hard inside Yao, smirking innocently against Yao's back as the other boy cursed once more in frustration. Ivan zipped himself back into his pants and Yao made an awkward grab for a hand towel, cleaning himself up hurriedly and righting his clothing. He was still painfully hard, and he smacked Ivan across the chest in annoyance before having to sneak out of the laundry room through the other door just as Sofia and Raivis entered the kitchen.

"Oh, you're back! And helping with laundry? What a sweet little brother I have!" Sofia praised obliviously. Catching the tail end of the conversation, Yao scowled as he hobbled up the stairs. Ivan's reply just barely reached his ears.

"Da. Yao loves when I help him with the laundry," Ivan said innocently, no doubt grinning like a wolf.

"Stupid…fat…western…ass!" Yao huffed, as he reached the top of the stairs and winced at the sticky feeling between his legs. He needed a shower—a cold one.

"I'm just going to go put away these clothes," Ivan's voice said, drifting up from the laundry room. Yao's eyes narrowed further. Now the jerk was bringing dirty clothes back upstairs that Yao had already hauled downstairs just for an excuse to mess around with him in the bedroom.

Feeling petulant (while secretly loving these games of cat and mouse that they played) Yao locked the bedroom door and collapsed on their big bed, wiggling out of his clothing and stroking himself just the way he liked. He gave Ivan a few minutes to make it up the stairs and then he let out a low, husky moan. The door knob wiggled and Ivan's dark laughter reached him.

"The door is locked, my little panda," Ivan called out in the voice that Yao knew meant he was in a playful mood.

"That's because you don't actually have clean laundry to put away, you liar!" Yao called out. He was very close to coming again, and so far lost in his pleasure he didn't think he could stop to unlock the door even if he wanted to.

Of course, there were perks (or drawbacks) to dating a criminal. The doorknob rattled a moment more and then it was open, and Ivan was tucking a credit card back into his wallet. His eyes lit up in appreciation when he saw just what Yao was up to in the bedroom, and after securely shutting the door behind himself, he tossed the laundry basket aside uncaringly.

"Hands off," he said. His dark eyes lighting with fire, Yao shook his head and only pumped faster. Ivan's smirk transformed into an innocent, cheery smile and then he was on the bed with a dirty tie in his hands. He was rough as he pinned his smaller lover and forced his hands to the headboard, efficiently securing them in place with the tie. Yao strained his wrists, berating Ivan in rapid, angry Chinese as his lover spread his legs and began to finger him again. Yao tossed his head back against the pillow and rolled his hips against Ivan's hand, eyes squeezed shut tightly in pleasure. He was about to come just from the stimulation to his prostate alone, but then Ivan slowed his pace teasingly. Yao whimpered.

"When I tell you to take your hands off what is mine, what should you do?" Ivan asked sweetly in his ear. Yao cursed him again, trying in vain to wiggle against the fingers filling him but offering no pleasure. At the further show of rebellion, Ivan withdrew his fingers completely and dropped his mouth to Yao's swollen nipple. He licked it and blew over it, teasing it with his tongue and teeth, knowing it was not nearly enough stimulation to tip Yao over the edge. Yao retaliated by biting Ivan's shoulder—hard.

Ivan just laughed, darkly, even as a little blood smeared across his collar bone. He claimed Yao's mouth harshly, tasting his own blood on Yao's lips and forcing Yao to take his tongue down his throat. When the kiss ended, Yao was panting for breath, sweating and desperate, so close to release that it was physically hurting.

"I belong to you…I'm yours…please…please!" Yao relented, pressing a small, apologetic kiss against the hollow of Ivan's throat. His bigger lover smiled in pleasure and kissed him more gently, spreading his legs and entering him a second time. Yao gasped against Ivan's mouth and came quickly as his lover mercilessly pounded against his prostate, Yao's slender legs thrown over Ivan's broad shoulders. When he'd come so hard he nearly blacked out, Ivan pulled out and lowered Yao's boneless legs back to the mattress. He roughly undid the restraint and freed Yao's bruised wrists. He gave his precious treasure only a moment to recover before he propped Yao up against a pillow and crawled up his chest. Bracing his upper body against the headboard, he waited expectantly. Yao panted a few seconds more and then tilted his head up, giving Ivan's arousal a lick from base to tip. He placed slender, delicate hands on Ivan's pale thighs and began to suck him off in earnest, still breathing hard as he obediently accepted Ivan's impressive length. His lover thrust deep into his mouth and came without warning, nearly causing Yao to choke. Having quite a bit of practice by this point, though, Yao managed to swallow and weakly wiped at the little bit that spilled past his lips when it was done. Ivan rolled off him and reached for the pack of cigarettes on his nightstand. Ivan smoked more and more these days, usually with his uncle, but he'd recently started smoking in the house…much to Yao's annoyance. No matter how many times Yao threw away the cigarettes, they'd pop back up in Ivan's drawer.

"Don't you dare…light that…" Yao fussed, still short of breath. Ivan just smirked at him before pulling out a cigarette and flicking his lighter expertly. "Ivan…" Yao warned again, weakly raising up into a sitting position.

"Shut up, dorogoi. I like to smoke after I fuck you. I worked hard. I think I earned it," Ivan gloated. Recovering his strength, Yao straddled Ivan's lap and boldly took the cigarette out of his lover's smiling lips.

"I said no," Yao insisted. Ivan raised an eyebrow, still smiling. He gave Yao's ass a little squeeze and then spanked him lightly.

"Mmm, and if I don't listen to your nagging?" Ivan asked. Yao lifted his chin imperiously and glared down at the taller boy.

"Then the next time you shove your dick in my face, I'll bite it off," Yao threatened. Ivan laughed hard at this and kissed him, smiling against his mouth. His hands skillfully undid Yao's hair tie and freed the silky strands. He hummed contentedly against Yao's mouth as he played with his smaller lover's hair. Yao relaxed against Ivan's broad chest, knowing he'd won the battle over the cigarette. As much as Ivan liked to boss him around in bed, they both knew who called the shots the second their lovemaking was done.

Yao pulled away from the kiss when he heard a persistent buzzing coming from the general vicinity of Ivan's pants.

"It's your phone," he said.

"Let it ring," Ivan replied, nibbling slowly along Yao's shoulder.

"It could be Natalia. She should be home by now," Yao said, already slipping out of Ivan's hold to fetch the phone. A glance at the caller I.D. revealed it was Alfred. Not ready to give up his comfortable perch just yet, Yao snuggled back against Ivan's chest and let Ivan continue to pet him as he accepted the call from Alfred.

"Talk," he ordered gruffly. Alfred's rather obnoxiously loud voice could be heard even by Yao.

"My plane is about to take off, but I got a favor I need to ask," Alfred said.

"No," Ivan replied, clearly still feeling playful. Yao rolled his eyes.

"Seriously! It's kinda weird, and Arties swears it's just Peter messing around, but when he went back to his old room, the door was unlocked. It kinda makes me nervous. And Artie swears he left his book on the chair in your dorm room, but it's missing and he can't find it anywhere. Just in case someone's trying to mess with him, will you check up on him this next week?" Alfred asked.

"Da, no problem," Ivan replied. Yao had perked up at that, his brows knitted in concern.

"Thanks man, see ya in a week!" Alfred said, before saying goodbye and hanging up.

"That doesn't sound good," Yao said. Ivan nodded. He rubbed Yao's bare back a few moments and then absently kissed at one of his bruised wrists, almost apologetically.

"We could spend the night back up at the school…just to make sure. Zakhar can watch the girls and Raivis," Ivan suggested. Smiling at Ivan's softer, protective side, Yao nodded approvingly. He pressed a kiss to the corner of Ivan's mouth.

"Let me just pack up my homework and throw some clothes in an overnight bag."

A/N: I'm not dead! I've been so ridiculously busy it's not even funny, but I've got the rest of the winter break now and nothing to do but write and play Skyrim. Expect either one or two updates…or expect me to switch into writing beast mode and crank out like twelve chapters. It's happened before! I'd actually really like to wrap up this year so I can focus on some other projects for awhile. Poor Diane Long has been waiting on me for months, but I'm hoping we can get our fic out really soon, so keep a look out for that one. It's a 9/11 hurt/comfort fic, and I think it'll be awesome if I can ever get my ass in gear!