-But I know all I know is that the end's beginning.-
Shattered; Trading Yesterday
-Hetalia-
Francis called a few days later, on the next day of practice. The band had gathered at Alfred's house as per usual, though they'd decided to take a day off of actual practicing to celebrate their win.
They were crowded together in Alfred's bedroom, as it was biggest. Matthew was lounging on the bed, pillows at his sides to ensure he put as little strain on his injury as possible. Alfred had surrendered his desk chair to Arthur, and stood nearby, tossing McBurger around absentmindedly, while Gilbert sat by Matthew's feet.
"So it looks like you're back on bed rest," Gilbert said. The Canadian nodded.
"How bad is it?" Arthur asked. "I never did get a good look." Alfred saw Matthew bite his lip, glancing at the bedroom door.
"Go ahead and show 'em, bro," he said, stepping forward to push the door shut. Matthew stared at him for a long moment, clearly still worried about his mother coming in, before he gave in and nodded, raising a hand to unbutton the plaid shirt he was wearing. Alfred liked to tease him about his shirts. They made him look like a lumberjack.
"I can't move very much anymore because of the soreness," Matthew said as he slowly undid each button. "If I bend too far in any direction, it feels kind of like I'm being kicked in the ribs." He finished with the buttons and brushed the shirt open, revealing the red and purple remains of the dog's attack. Gilbert let out an appreciative whistle while Arthur hissed in sympathetic pain, leaning forward to get a better look.
"Maybe you should have taken it easier at the competition," Arthur said.
"Alfred? There's someone on the phone for yo- Oh mon dieu! Mattie, what's going on?"
All four boys jumped as Matthew's mother entered the room uninvited. Alfred's breath caught as their secret was discovered, and he glanced over his shoulder at Matthew, wondering what he would say. The others turned to him as well, four sets of eyes focused on him, waiting for an answer. Matthew winced and bit his lip before answering.
"I uhm...well...there was this dog...at the shelter-"
"Oh, Mattie!" his mother breathed, hurrying forward. "Boys, can you give us a minute?" she asked without even looking at them. She didn't wait for an answer either. "Alfred, I left the phone on the table. I'm not sure why he didn't call your cell, but there you have it." Alfred nodded, casting Matthew an apologetic look from behind his mother before turning to the door and leading Gilbert and Arthur out. With nothing else to do, he brought them downstairs to the living room and picked up the phone.
"Hello?"
"'Hello, Alfred," a French accent purred.
"Hey Francis. 'Sup?" Alfred asked, momentarily distracted from his concerns for Matthew.
"I would just like to say congratulations on your victory at the fair," Francis said. Alfred was slightly confused, though happy. Francis didn't usually pay him much attention.
"Er, thanks? I didn't see you in the crowd," he said. Arthur glared at the phone as if that would cause the Frenchman some kind of harm.
"What's he saying?" he asked, crossing his arms.
"Ja, what's up?" Gilbert's tone was much more welcoming.
"He says congrats. He saw us play."
"Oh, is there someone else there?" Francis asked. Alfred nodded.
"Yeah, the band's all over here. Matt's busy right now, though."
"You know he can't see you nodding, right?" Gilbert raised an eyebrow. Alfred ignored him.
"That is too bad. Be sure to tell him-"
"Just put it on speaker, git," Arthur said, talking over Francis.
"Oh, right." Alfred turned the phone to the side to press the button. "You're on speaker now, Francis," he said. "What were you saying?"
"I said to tell Matthew that I really enjoyed his singing," Francis repeated. Gilbert burst into a fit of snickers. Arthur smacked him in the head.
"Hey, hands to yourself, Blondie," Gilbert grunted, swatting back at the Brit, who easily sidestepped the attack.
"Why are you even calling, frog?" Arthur spat. Francis's laughter sounded over the line.
"As I was saying, I enjoyed Matthew's singing. I was hoping I could hear it again."
Alfred frowned in confusion. "You called to...hear Matt sing?" he said slowly.
Gilbert snorted and rolled his eyes. "When and where?" he asked. Alfred blinked, completely lost as Gilbert continued. "Will we have to bring our instruments or do you have some, and what's in it for us?"
"What are you talking about?" Alfred asked. Arthur looked at him like he was stupid.
"The frog is offering us our next gig, idiot," he said.
"What, for real?" Alfred looked to Gilbert for confirmation but the albino wasn't paying attention to him.
"I'm having a party on Friday at my place; a sort of celebration to the last days of summer. Come before seven and bring your instruments. It would be nice if you had a new song, but Bestialement will definitely be welcome," Francis said. Alfred could hear the amusement in his voice. He made a mental note to ask Gilbert to tell him again what exactly the French parts of that song were saying, whenever he asked Matthew his brother just turned bright red and refused to speak. Gilbert had told them once, but Alfred had forgotten already.
"Hold on just a bloody moment," Arthur said, cutting into Alfred's thoughts. "Why the hell would we want to go to your party?"
"You want to become famous, non? There will be quite the crowd, Arthur."
Alfred grinned. "Dude, that's perfect! We'll totally be there, Francis."
"Now hold on, I didn't agree to anything!" Arthur protested.
"Aw, c'mon Iggy," Alfred whined, turning back to the Englishman. "We'll get more fans."
"I doubt it," Arthur huffed. "It's probably just a ploy to take advantage of us somehow," he said, directing a pointed glare at the phone. From above, raised voices could be heard, muffled by the ceiling. Alfred looked up and frowned.
"Is that...Matthew?" Arthur asked, forgetting his annoyance apparently as he too looked at the ceiling. Alfred nodded, surprised to hear his step-brother shouting.
"That sounds like French," Gilbert said quietly.
"'Hello? Are you still there?" Francis asked. Alfred slowly turned back to the phone.
"Yeah, we'll be there," he said. "Gotta go right now." he pressed the button to end the call.
"Do either of you know what they're saying?" Arthur asked as Alfred tossed the phone onto the couch, staring back up at the ceiling.
"No clue." Gilbert shook his head.
"I suck at French." Alfred said. Arthur nodded.
The three boys stared up at the ceiling until the shouts eventually ebbed. An eerie silence surrounded them as they cast worried glances to one another, waiting to see what would happen next. They jumped guiltily when the living room door suddenly opened.
"Oh, you're done with the phone, then, Alfred?" Matthew's mother asked as she entered the room, very obviously pretending she didn't know they'd heard everything. Alfred hesitated for a moment, before pushing away the questions burning in his mind and simply nodded. They all watched, fidgeting uncomfortably, as Matthew's mother crossed the room to the couch. "Please remember to put it back when you're done next time," was all they got in response.
"R-right, sorry," he mumbled, nodding again. They watched her return the cordless phone to its dock and leave the room before they let out a collective breath, which none of them had been aware they were holding. They shared an awkward glance, unsure of what else to do.
"...We should tell Matthew about the gig," Arthur said eventually. Alfred nodded. No one moved.
-H-
Alfred pulled up to Francis's house just after six thirty on Friday night.
"Ready dudes?" he asked as he turned the truck off, looking over his shoulder at Gilbert and Matthew, who were unbuckling in the back.
"Of course the awesome me is ready," Gilbert said, grinning like the Cheshire cat. Matthew's response was far more subdued.
"Yeah," he mumbled, not looking up. Alfred let out a small sigh before climbing out of the truck. He really hoped the party could help cheer his step-brother up.
Alfred walked around the truck to open Arthur's door for him, something he'd started doing ever since their last date. He was beginning to think that Arthur didn't like saying what he really thought, so he had to try and catch subtle hints, something he wasn't all that great at.
His boyfriend hopped out of the truck and landed beside Alfred, offering him a nod of approval before going to the back of the pick-up to help unload the equipment, ignoring Alfred's outstretched hand. Alfred tried not to be too down about the fact that Arthur had once again avoided holding his hand in public. To be honest the limited amount of affection Arthur offered him wasn't exactly what he'd been expecting when the Brit agreed to go out with him. One kiss in over two weeks of dating was hardly what he considered normal, but, he reminded himself as he shut the door and half jogged to the others to help with the drums, Arthur was still recovering from the break up with Francis, and he wasn't always the most affectionate person anyway. Alfred tried to ignore the fact that all of that just sounded like excuses to him.
The drums were heavy, and there were too many for the four of them to even bring in all at once. Alfred had to set down the drum he was carrying - the heaviest one, because he'd insisted on carrying the big one - on the front step just to knock on the front door. Thankfully it didn't take Francis long to come and open it, but the Frenchman didn't so much as lift a finger to help them set up, aside from leading them to where he wanted them to perform.
"There are outlets here and here for your amps," he informed them as they set down the drums and let out a collective sigh of relief. "It is so good to see you again, mon ami," Francis said as he pulled Gilbert into a tight hug. Gilbert laughed and said something about it having been too long, but Arthur was quick to lead the others back out to the truck.
Alfred set to work re-assembling the set while the other three left to get the remaining drum and cymbals, and Francis stayed behind.
"So, you and Arthur are together now, oui?" he asked. Even Alfred knew that Francis had the answer to his own question, and he wondered just what he was getting at. Alfred decided to humor the older blond for the time being.
"Yeah, a couple of weeks now," he shrugged, re-attaching one of the smaller drums.
"And you are so close already that he allows you to kiss him in public?" Francis asked. Alfred frowned.
"Not really... That was our first kiss, and it was kinda a spur of the moment thing, y'know?" Alfred still wasn't entirely happy about that, especially when Arthur acted like it was the most scandalous thing in the universe afterwards. He wasn't sure whether he should feel guilty, or angry that Arthur was pinning the blame on him.
"Oh?" Francis smirked, saying nothing more as the others returned with the rest of the set.
"What are you 'oh'-ing about, Frog?" Arthur asked. Francis chuckled for a moment before waving it off.
"Oh, nothing. Don't worry your pretty little head about it, mon ami," he purred. "If you'll excuse me, I have a few more preparations to finish before the guests arrive." He turned and left them.
"What was he 'oh'-ing about?" Arthur asked Alfred. Alfred shrugged.
"No clue. He's kinda weird," he answered. That seemed to satisfy Arthur for the time being, and he went after Matthew and Gilbert to get the rest of the instruments.
The drums didn't take much longer after that to put together, but by the time Alfred was finished the others were already plugging in their equipment. Alfred stood up straight and stretched, a little tired since his usual mid-afternoon nap had to be cut short for this. His stomach growled and he hoped Francis would have food for the guests.
"We should test the microphone," Gilbert said, taking it from Matthew as Francis returned.
"The guests should all be here by seven thirty. I'd like you to perform around nine, so make sure you keep track of the time," he said.
"Ja ja," Gilbert waved him off. "We'll be ready. Who's coming anyway? Anyone fun?"
"You'll see," Francis smirked.
-H-
There must have been at least three hundred people in that house. Granted Francis was kinda rich, and sort of really popular. Alfred knew that there would be a large crowd coming, but he hadn't expected this many people. He'd thought the audience at the competition was big, but that was smaller than this. On the bright side, it meant they'd have plenty of new fans. On the even brighter side, it meant Arthur was forced to hold his hand as they moved through the crowd if he didn't want to lose him. Alfred made a mental note to thank Francis later.
The partiers mainly occupied three rooms. There was the living room, where the band had set up their instruments. Two long tables were laid out on either side with all kinds of snacks for hungry guests, while the pulsing roar of the music from the next room danced around them in it's more subdued form. Said next room held large speakers and looked like it was normally a ballroom, though now it was a heated mesh of teenage bodies and night club music. On the other side of the living room was the kitchen, where Francis had set out plenty of alcoholic drinks to please the law breaking tastes of the entirely underage party.
In other words, it had the makings to be a pretty kick ass party.
Arthur bluntly refused to go into the ballroom/night club, no matter how much Alfred pleaded. They'd lost track of the other two, but every once in a while Alfred thought he had seen the tell-tale silver of Gilbert's hair among the crowd on the dance floor, which only made him beg Arthur even more. Arthur seemed content to stay in the living room with slightly more composed guests, like Ludwig, who had apparently been dragged to Francis's by Feliciano, who was nowhere to be seen (and probably on the dance floor, Alfred thought bitterly to himself). The older blond was kind enough to let Alfred drag him into the kitchen, though he refused to allow Alfred to drink anything, which sort of defeated the purpose.
Alfred sighed and let Arthur be bossy for now, deciding it'd be best not to have another fight, lest their bassist walk out before they got to go on. He managed to entertain himself for a while with talking to other guests like Ludwig, but after a while it was just Arthur talking with people while Alfred just stood there, holding his hand and looking around in boredom.
That was when he noticed that people were looking at them weirdly. Their eyes glittered the way Gilbert's did just before he pulled a really good prank, and they hid their mouths behind their hands, sometimes leaning over to whisper to the person beside them, watching Alfred and Arthur. They didn't do it when Alfred was looking at them directly, which was probably why it'd taken him so long to notice, but now that he'd caught it, he couldn't stop seeing it. Three out of every four people looked like they were in on some kind of hilarious joke, and Alfred wanted to know what was so funny.
"So you noticed too," Arthur said to him suddenly, dragging the blond from his thoughts. Alfred turned to look at Arthur and just managed to catch the subtle gesture the other made towards a few snickering girls in the corner.
"Yeah, what's that about?" Alfred asked, nodding.
"I told you I thought the frog would try something. I'll bet he's spread some kind of rumor about us to all the guests," Arthur muttered. Alfred frowned.
"I don't think it's anything that dark. They look like they're just in on some kind of joke," he said.
"Trust me, Alfred," Arthur said sternly, "Someone will try to humiliate us tonight."
Alfred didn't really think so, but Arthur seemed to know something he didn't. Maybe this sort of thing had happened to him before... he was brothers with Scott after all.
"What do you think they'll do?" he asked after a moment. Arthur shook his head.
"I'm not sure, but the way they're watching us, it's almost as though they're waiting for one of us to do something incriminating... Listen to me, Alfred," Arthur's tone changed to a very serious one all of a sudden. "From now on you are to be on your very best behavior, do you understand me?" This again. Alfred frowned, annoyed. The way Arthur talked to him sometimes was as if he thought he was a child without any manners. It was more than a little irritating.
"Yeah yeah, don't eat too much blah blah blah," Alfred said.
"Don't speak like that either," Arthur huffed. Alfred snorted and crossed his arms.
"Iggy-"
"And don't call me that. It's Arthur." Alfred rolled his eyes.
"Fine, Arthur, they'll know we're on to them if I start talking like I'm at a business meeting or something. I'll just be nice and mannerly or whatever and they won't have anything to make fun of, okay?" He didn't wait for an answer. "I'm hungry, so I'm gonna go get some food," he said, dropping Arthur's hand for the first time in around an hour. He immediately missed it, but he had to prove to these jerks and Arthur that he could use manners without having is boyfriend breathing down his neck.
Alfred tried to resist grinning as he approached the snack table. He could feel all the eyes locked on him as if they were shooting some kind of tangible beam at the back of his head. He calmly picked up a cookie and made sure to take small bites as he ate, scanning the crowd again as if he were still bored, though this new game was very entertaining.
Feliciano suddenly appeared, looking around for a second before bouncing over to him, talking a mile a minute.
"Ciao, Alfred! I was just dancing with some pretty ladies when I saw you looked lonely over here, and thought I should come talk to you! So here I am!" Alfred grinned, sure that this was a trap. He was glad they'd sent over someone as oblivious as Feliciano to try and make him slip up.
He took his time pretending to finish chewing his bite before he made a point of swallowing so there would be no question of whether or not he was talking with his mouth full. This was almost like playing spy; a threat could come from anyone and his every move had to be carefully measured. Alfred grinned at the thought.
"Hiya, Feli. Enjoying the party, then?" he asked, remembering it was polite to be courteous to others or some shit. The bouncy Italian nodded earnestly
"Si! Are you and your band really going to play for us tonight? I bet you're really really good!"
"Yeah, dude, we're gonna be awesome. I hope you like it." Humility or whatever. Well, sort of.
Feliciano carried on for a little longer before saying goodbye and disappearing. Alfred checked the onlookers from the corner of his eye and felt that many of them looked a little less smug. He grinned and finished his cookie.
A few minutes later Francis turned up in the living room and came to the mic. The music in the ballroom came to an end and the curious voices of the dancers echoed off the walls as they began to make their way to the living room to see what was going on. Alfred was shocked to see a blushing Matthew leave the dance floor, but he saw Gilbert cackling behind him and guessed the albino must have forced him to go in. Alfred chuckled and made his way to them, Arthur soon beside him.
"...ever make me do that again," Matthew was saying. Gilbert only laughed harder.
"'Hello everyone," Francis greeted, ending most of the conversations. "I hope you are enjoy yourselves." Three hundred cheers deafened everyone as the guests responded. There was hardly any room to even breathe in this crowd; Alfred wondered how the hell they had even all fit in the living room. "I would like to introduce the live band we have tonight," Francis continued, pausing to allow the crowd to cheer again. "Brother Complex!"
Alfred had to take Arthur's hand again and lead the Brit as he shoved his way through the crowd to make it to the instruments. He could sense Gilbert doing the same with Matthew behind them. He was panting from the effort of shoving so many people aside by the time he finally fought his way to the mic.
"Alright, 'sup everyone?" he greeted the crowd once he'd caught his breath. The teens cheered in response. "Okay, so I'm Alfred, this is my brother Matt, and that's Gilbert, our awesome friend. This British dude is mine and he's Arthur, and we've got the best band you've ever seen, so get ready to rock!" Arthur shook his head at him as the crowd cheered and laughed at the American's little speech. "You good, Mattie?" Alfred asked softly, leaning over to talk in Matthew's ear so none of the partiers would hear. Matthew swallowed and nodded. Alfred handed him the mic and went to his place behind the drums.
"O-our...ahem," Matthew stuttered, clearing his throat to start again. "Our first song is Bestialement." The crowd clapped, and a few people who'd apparently heard them play before cheered. Gilbert led in and Alfred grinned as he saw the curious looks of the partiers change into impressed expressions, and then into excitement as Matthew began singing.
"Ne fait pas un bruit, sauf si tu cries mon nom,
That's right, baby, not a single sound.
Ne dit rien, sauf pour m'en demander plus.
C'mon, baby, whatcha waiting for?
Here we go, up and down,
Side to side, don't turn around,
Just remember not a sound,
Sauf si tu cries pour plus.
Laisses-moi te baiser
Comme une salope,
I'll show you what,
Your lungs are for.
Just open up
Et demande m'en plus,
While I raise the stakes."
Alfred didn't know if it was the fast beat, or the chords Gil had composed, or the tone Matthew took whenever he began singing, but something was driving the teens wild. Even if they didn't speak French, they had enough to go on to tell that there were some pretty sexual phrases falling from Matthew's otherwise completely innocent lips. As always happened when hormonal teenagers, rock music, and sexual implications were mixed, the young partiers were dancing and grinding against one another. Alfred felt like this was their initiation into the world of rising rock stars. Something about making teenagers of various states of intoxication dry hump one another made them real members of a band, rather than some guys goofing around on instruments for the hell of it.
"Ne fait pas un bruit, sauf si tu cries mon nom.
That's right, baby, not a single sound.
Ne dit rien, sauf pour m'en demander plus.
C'mon, baby, whatcha waiting for?
Tonight, it's just you and I,
Roulons entre les feuilles,
Nous faisant crier l'un l'autre.
My hands are tied, I'm gonna die.
Et tu continues à gémir pour moi,
Baisons bestialement.
Tell me that you want it now,
Tell me all about how,
You love the sweat across your brow,
Quand je te baise comme ça.
Take control and show me why,
Tu veux me sentir en toi,
Comment es-tu si étroit,
Chaque fois que tu me baises?
Ne fait pas un bruit, sauf si tu cries mon nom,
That's right, baby, not a single sound,
Ne dit rien, sauf pour m'en demander plus,
C'mon, baby, whatcha waiting for?
Tonight, it's just you and I,
Roulons entre les feuilles,
Nous faisant crier l'un l'autre.
My hands are tied, I'm gonna die,
Et tu continues de gémir pour moi,
Baisons bestialement.
Baises-moi comme une salope, comme une salope, comme une salope.
I can go another round. Do you have the guts?
Baises-moi comme une pute, comme une pute, comme une pute.
Or even better, let me do it. Let's hear you beg some more.
Tonight, it's just you an I,
Roulons entre les feuilles,
Nous faisant crier l'un l'autre.
My hands are tied, I'm gonna die,
Et tu continues de gémir pour moi,
Baisons bestialement."
Matthew was the reddest Alfred had ever seen once the song ended, and the American burst into a fit of laughter along with Gilbert as the crowd went insane with cheers. Whatever impressions they'd had earlier that night were long forgotten now that they'd seen the band play, and Alfred wasn't finished with them just yet.
"Hey Mattie," he called over the roar as Matthew reached for the microphone to start the next song.
"Yeah?"
"Lemme do something, 'kay?" Matthew looked confused for a moment before he worked out what Alfred meant. Alfred loved that his step-brother could read people - it made things a lot more easier when he was trying to do something sneaky. Unless, of course, he was trying to do something sneaky to Matthew, but he wasn't this time, so that didn't matter.
"You sure?" was the only protest he got as he walked around the drums, bringing his stool with him.
"Totally," he said, sitting down. Matthew nodded and lowered the mic stand for him while Alfred turned to Gilbert.
"What, now?" Gilbert raised an eyebrow. He'd let the albino in on his little surprise, since he was better at composing songs, and Alfred wanted this to be perfect.
"Yeah. I wanna show Francy-Pants up," he said. Gilbert laughed and handed over the red and white instrument, taking a step back so Alfred would be the main focus of the crowd's attention.
"What are you up to?" Arthur asked as Matthew stepped back to stand with Gilbert. Alfred just grinned and turned to the mic.
"I'd like to dedicate this brand new song to Arthur Kirkland," he said. The crowd burst into a fit of 'aw''s and Alfred spotted Francis looking rather surprised in the background. Arthur looked completely stupefied as Alfred started playing the song he's written just for him.
-H-
Alfred knew they'd won when Francis's mood seemed to have completely shifted to one of defeat.
"I told you he was behind it all," Arthur said smugly some time after their performance. "The damn frog must be jealous of us, seeing as how he and Jeanne broke up so quickly." Alfred hadn't even known Jeanne had left Francis - he didn't really keep up with that kind of stuff - but he nodded in agreement.
"Probably."
"First sane thing that girl's ever done, I'll guarantee you that." Alfred shifted uncomfortably, part of him wanting to tell Arthur not to be mean to the girl and feed the negative rumors that had been going around. He was still debating speaking up when Arthur pressed on. "I think we should leave now, though. At least you and I. Who knows what else Francis might try."
Alfred nodded. If Arthur wouldn't let him go dance or drink, he didn't have much left to do anyway. He'd already talked to nearly everyone in the living room, after all.
"What about Gil and Mattie? They'll need a ride home," he realized.
"I'll bring Matthew home for you if you like," Ludwig offered. Alfred had almost forgotten that he was there. "I have to stay and make sure Gilbert doesn't drink himself into too much of a hysteria anyway. The dance floor will only distract him from the beer for so long."
"Alright, thanks! Just try to be quiet if you bring him back after midnight. His mom'll probably yell at us again if he gets caught breaking curfew," Alfred said. Ludwig nodded and promised to be careful before Arthur led Alfred out without saying goodbye to Francis.
Thankfully they'd already loaded the instruments back up in the truck, because Alfred had lost track of Matthew and Gilbert again and he definitely didn't want to do all that heavy lifting with only Arthur to help. He buckled up in the front seat and was ready for a peaceful drive home (and maybe more than a good night kiss) when Arthur began speaking to him.
"We'll have to be more careful from now on," the Brit said, and Alfred instantly knew that despite his totally romantic song, there was no way in hell he'd be able to bribe Arthur into making out with him once they got back to the house. He tried to hide his disappointment.
"What d'you mean?" he asked carefully. He had a bad feeling they were sailing towards dangerous waters. They'd only just stopped fighting, damn it!
"I mean we can't have anyone making a fool of you in public. We have fans now, and while we may have stopped Francis this time, with fame comes jealousy, and there will be more like him who think they can gain by ruining your reputation." There was that tone again. The tone he used that made it sound like he was talking to a five year old. God, Alfred hated that tone.
"Dude, I totally handled that. We've got nothing to worry about," he said, glancing at him from the side.
"You wouldn't have handled it if I hadn't pointed out to you just what was going on," Arthur said.
"Hey, that's totally not fair! I noticed people were staring at us."
"Yes, about an hour after they'd started." Arthur crossed his arms. "It won't always be that obvious, Alfred. From now on you should stick close to me at events like this so that-"
"-so that you can baby-sit me like I'm a ten year old and tell me I can't have any fun?" Alfred cut in.
"-so that I can protect you!" Arthur finished.
"Well excuse me. Sorry I don't remember being the girl in this relationship," Alfred huffed.
"I didn't call you a girl," Arthur said, exasperated. Alfred snorted.
"You might as well have. The only people who need protecting are girls and children," he said.
"Alfred," Arthur said.
"So which am I?"
"Alfred, you're being very childish. Not to mention rather sexist."
"At least that has the word sex in it," Alfred pouted.
"You're not even making sense anymore, Alfred," Arthur said.
"Sex. S-E-X. You know, that thing people who like each other do? I'm pretty sure Matthew sang a whole song about it, though he might have been singing about swimming, I dunno, don't speak French. That's not the point! Sex, Arthur. Apparently the only form of it I'm gonna get from you is you saying I'm sexist."
"When the bloody hell did this become about sex?" Arthur asked. Alfred groaned.
"It's not about sex," he said.
"But you just said-"
"It's about the fact that you treat me like a little kid! Half the time I don't know if you're my boyfriend or my babysitter." Alfred sighed as he pulled to a stop in front of Arthur's house. "Look, Iggy, I really like you, and I want this relationship to go somewhere. Maybe not right now, but like, one day in the future, maybe. But in order for that to happen, you need to realize I'm not a kid anymore," he said seriously, giving Arthur a pleading look.
Arthur held his gaze for a long moment. For a few seconds Alfred thought the Brit was about to tell him he wanted to break up. The silence burned him as he waited for a reply.
"I'll be late to practice tomorrow," was all Arthur said in response before he got out of the truck. Alfred sighed and watched through the rear view window as Arthur went to the back and pulled out his guitar and his amp. Alfred followed him with his eyes as the Brit walked up to the front door and disappeared inside.
Alfred sighed again and drove home.
A/N: I can never say thank you enough for reading this story! Thank you, thank you, thank you. This chapter is by far the longest yet, totaling at 5,439 words, not counting this author's note. I really hope you enjoy it as much as I do.
Here you have the entire set of lyrics to Bestialement, which Petit-Arc-en-Ciel was so kind to edit for me. It rhymes in its English form, but some of the rhymes are lost in translation. To be fair, Gilbert wrote it in English.
This chapter is a bit jam-packed with allegories. We have hints at Jeanne's burning at the stake in her having broken up with Francis, and Arthur's bad-mouthing her and the rumors are a reference to the fact that she claimed to speak to God, and was burned for heresy, considered crazy by the English. We also see the French and Indian War (which I believe is called the Seven Year's War in Europe?) I am aware that the timeline of the allegories in this story is a little messed up. I hope it doesn't bother anyone too much. We have the Proclamation Line of 1763, too (Arthur told Alfred to stick close to him; England told the colonies not to go beyond the Appalachian mountains), and kind of sort of the Quartering Act, as Arthur becomes overly protective.
Each chapter seems to bring in more reviews, and I'm beside myself with surprised joy each time to hear how much everyone likes Brother Complex. Thank you all so so so much for leaving those little notes for me; I can't possibly tell you how much getting these reviews brightens my day.
To the guest reviewer, gueeeesties: I can't even form a coherent response to your review at the moment. Thank you, thank you, thank you! I am far from perfect, and entirely unworthy of such a compliment, even if it's directed at my writing. I am very glad you like this story so much, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thank you so much.
Thank you so much Hornet394 for all your work.
Translations for this chapter (I'm sorry most of Bestialement is in French... Gilbert is too amused by the thought of sex.):
Ja: German; Yes (used as yeah)
Non: French; No
Bestialement: French; brutally
Oui: French; Yes
Mon ami: French; My friend
Ciao: Italian; Hi
Si: Italian; Yes
Ne fait pas un bruit, sauf si tu cries mon nom: French; Don't make a sound unless you're screaming my name
Ne dit rien, sauf pour m'en demander plus,: French; Don't say anything unless you're begging for more
Sauf si tu cries pour plus.: French; Unless you're screaming for more.
Laisses-moi te baiser: French; Let me fuck you
Comme une salope,: French; Like a slut
Et demande m'en plus,: French; and beg for more
Roulons entre les feuilles,: French; Rolling between the sheets
Nous faisant crier l'un l'autre,: French; Making each other scream
Et tu continues à gémir pour moi,: French; And you continue to moan for me
Baisons bestialement.: Fucking brutally
Quand je te baise comme ça.: French; When I fuck you like this
Tu veux me sentir en toi,: French; You want to feel me inside
Comment es-tu si étroit,: French: How are you so tight
Chaque fois que tu me baises?: French; Every time you fuck me?
Baises-moi comme une salope, comme une salope, comme une salope,: French; Fuck me like a slut, like a slut, like a slut
Baises-moi comme une pute, comme une pute, comme une pute,: French; Fuck me like a whore, like a whore, like a whore
Thank you so much for reading.
~VV