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Matthew is Mine	By : flagfish Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 9688 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia, nor do I make any money from writing this story.

Chapter List
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Arthur sighed with resigned irritation as he padded at Alfred’s forehead with a piece of ethanol-soaked gauze.
“There’s no helping you…”
he murmured, and Alfred flinched at the burning sensation, gazing angrily at the empty cup in his hand, where now only ice had remained.
Legs crossed, Matthew observed from several seats away, burger long forgotten between his fingers as he watched Arthur nurse his brother’s wounds.
“This isn’t over…!”
Alfred announced, ice rattling in the cup as he gestured with his hand,
“What they did to Matthew was not okay…!”
Matthew, who was quite curious about what it was exactly that they did to him, was weighing in his mind the pros and cons of actually asking.
“Sit still,”
Arthur grumbled, because Alfred kept moving away from his incoming fingers, menacing as they held that dangerous gauze,
“this is what you get for picking a fight with Russia.”
Alfred stiffened all at once, finger pointed accusingly at the older boy.
“He totally started it, you were there…!”
He flipped his head in Matthew’s direction then, “Tell him, Matt…!”
Matthew, whose thoughts were elsewhere altogether, dutifully nodded in response,
“Yeah, that’s right…!”
he chimed in with a meek smile, oblivious as to what exactly he was agreeing on but certain no less that his brother really was right.
“You gonna eat that?”
Alfred asked, eyeing Matthew’s burger, and Arthur smacked him on the arm.
“You pig, you’ve already had two.”
“Hey! That hurts, you know!”
“Sure, Al, I’m not really all that hungry, so…”
Now placing a small bandage on Alfred’s forehead, Arthur turned toward Matthew,
“Don’t give him that, he’s become a right lard arse…”
“I have not…!”
“I think Alfred’s body is really nice,” Matthew said absently, still gazing out the window.
Arthur and Alfred froze in place, Arthur’s hand on Alfred’s forehead, Alfred with the cup at his lips, partway through trying to drink whatever water the ice cubes had melted into.
Several seconds passed before finally Matthew turned to face them, realizing suddenly what he’d said, and then proceeded immediately to blush.
“Ah—I mean—”
“A-ha…!”
Alfred exclaimed victoriously, hand flailing and ice shooting out from the cup and onto Arthur’s clothes,
“There you have it, now stop being a pain, I’m gonna have that burger.”
“Fucks’ sake, America…!”
Arthur cried in irritation, taking two steps back and shaking the ice off as he inspected the status of his blazer.
Alfred had hopped off the table, already on his way toward the burger Matthew was freely offering out, when he stopped partway there to gaze at a little envelope on the tabletop nearby.
“What’s this?”
He asked, hand reaching to pick it up. It was a pretty letter, disturbingly pretty, with nauseating little stickers.
“Oh,”
Matthew said absently as he turned his gaze to Alfred, “someone left this in my tray.”
Alfred’s eyes rolled suspiciously in his brother’s direction as he began helping himself to the seal.
“Hey, don’t open that…!”
Arthur scolded, still trying uselessly to dry himself off, “can’t you tell that’s a personal letter meant for Matthew—”
“Yeah, I don’t like the looks of this personal letter,”
Alfred replied, and Matthew watched with mild curiosity as his long fingers pried the thing open.
Alfred’s blue eyes darted back and forth in periodic saccades as he read the note, brow furrowing with time, and ultimately he raised his gaze back toward his brother in suspenseful silence.
He gazed back down at the letter, then back up at Matthew, then at the letter again, then at Matthew again.
“Matthew, uh…”
he said, turning his head aside and scratching the back of one ear,
“you, uh…did you…”
“Did I what?”
“Did…was…was there anyone else at the…when you and those guys…”
Matthew gazed back at Alfred cluelessly.
After staring at his brother for several seconds more, Alfred turned on his heels and made his way back toward Arthur.
“England, look at this,”
He said, holding the letter out to Arthur, and, after the older boy began reading for several moments, Alfred smacked him square in the back of the head.
“A-ha…!”
He cried triumphantly once again, and, reaching for the back of his head, Arthur snapped angrily,
“What the hell, you idiot…?!”
“So you’re interested in reading this, too…! England, really, I should have known…”
“You wanker, you handed it to me…!”
“You could have said no! But you wanted to! The truth comes out—”
“What does the letter say, Al?”
Matthew asked, growing curious now.
Two pairs of eyes turned to gaze at Matthew then.
“Matthew, this—”
Alfred exclaimed very seriously, holding the letter up like a symbol of freedom and justice,
“—is from a girl.”
Silence.
“I figured as much, Al.”
Alfred nodded conclusively, as to say, good, so we have an understanding.
He sat down across from Matthew, trying to figure out how to proceed from there.
“Does some girl fancy Matthew?”
Arthur asked, thinking this was really quite sweet.
Alfred scratched the back of his neck again.
“Oh yeah,” he muttered aside, eyes rolling, “the girls like him, all right.”
“Girls, plural…?”
Alfred put the letter down, fist slamming on the tabletop at once, and he grasped Matthew’s hands in his.
“Matthew, whatever you did at that party, you need to explain to—”
he looked at the letter again, then back at Matthew,
“—to Hungary and Taiwan that that was a one-time thing, and…”
Arthur was laughing now, and, quite annoyed, Alfred turned his head to him,
“What's so funny?”
Still laughing, Arthur replied,
“I wonder how France would feel when he knew the ladies preferred Matt…”
Alfred rose to his feet at once,
“Is this somehow funny to you? They think Matthew is some kind of…they want…they want his—”
He leaned close to Arthur, very softly whispering,
“—his services—”
“They want my what?”
Matthew asked with a charming note of confusion.
Arthur and Alfred turned to him in a moment of alarm.
“Nothing!”
They replied simultaneously.
Alfred slumped unhappily in his seat, head in his hands,
“God, this is all my fault…I thought it was just Russia and France, but now…”
“Yep, you really blew it this time, America…”
“Hey! This is more your fault than mine…!”
“My fault?! You were the one who…who…”
Matthew carefully reached for the letter. It was written on pink stationary, decorated with subtle, pretty designs, and it smelled a little bit sweet. He adjusted the glasses at the bridge of his nose, absently brushing the hair from his face as he read with quiet curiosity.
His heart raced; he blushed, biting the tips of his fingernails unawares.
“Holy shit…” he mumbled softly, and, suddenly aware of what his brother was doing, Alfred quickly rushed to his side.
“Don’t read that…!”
He exclaimed, but Matthew held it out of his reach when Alfred tried to take it away.
“I’m not done yet,”
he mumbled, obviously curious about the rest, and Alfred watched unhappily as he continued on.
By the time Matthew was finished reading, his face was beet red.
“Fuck…” he mouthed very softly, long fingers slowly covering his eyes.
Alfred watched in mute panic, wondering to himself for the umpteenth time how he’d managed to let something like this occur.
“Well—!”
He said at last, “Well what’s done is done, and we have to let those ladies know that this is not okay, and that whole night was not okay, and writing you a letter like this is not okay, and—”
Matthew gazed up at Alfred through the spaces in-between his fingers. He felt humiliated beyond words, and entirely astonished, and dirty, and very cheap—
—and he wondered just how he might go about telling his brother that he sort of felt like accepting the ladies’ invitation.
To be continued…
A/N: Despite what the events here may imply, I do not write hetero, and this story will remain yaoi only.
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Matthew is Mine