Adult-FanFiction.org : Anime

Matthew is Mine	By : flagfish Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 9710 -:- 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
- 40
- 41
- 42
Matthew and Alfred exchanged bewildered glances, Alfred partway through transferring the container of ice cream in his hands into Matthew's lap, when, moments later, there appeared at the entrance a mostly exhausted, completely naked, disoriented and disheveled Francis at Arthur's side.
He stared silently into the room for several seconds before, all at once, his eyes went wide, and, mortified, he gazed over his once-perfect kitchen with pure panic.
"...ma sauce aux canneberges...!"
...my cranberry sauce...!
he cried in despair, and then, moments later,
"…merde! Et ma crème brûlée…!"
…shit! And my crème brûlée…!
He and Arthur rushed together into the room, already blaming one another for the mess.
"Tout ça, c'est ta faute, pourquoi tu ne les a pas surveillés?"
This is your fault, why didn't you watch them?
"Oh, I was just a little preoccupied, if you've already forgotten—"
"Boy, Al, you're in trouble," Matthew softly whispered as he stared at Arthur and Francis scrambling to pick up the various tubs and tins upturned on the floor.
Still quite overwhelmed from everything that's happened, Alfred remained silent for a long time. His hand tightened around Matthew's, suddenly they were kids again, watching their parents duke it out—
Then, just as Arthur prepared to give the two of them a piece of his mind, there came the thundering sound of footsteps stomping down the hallway and heavily into the kitchen after that, and, to Alfred's astonishment, there came Ivan, running in mostly naked and struggling gracelessly to fasten his fly as his long scarf flapped and flailed behind him in his wake—
"Hide me…!"
He cried, practically pleading, as Alfred watched with uninterrupted fascination. Could it be? Had he lived to see the day that someone would actually take Russia down?
"Big Brother, I saw you—"
There came an ominous, malevolent voice, and Natalia stomped into the kitchen after him, large knife in hand,
"I saw you with those naked guys—"
Alfred's mouth slowly stretched into a grin; oh, inviting all the ladies turned out to be quite the brilliant move.
"He's right there…!"
He sang, smiling big as he pointed to the kitchen table, where Ivan had unsuccessfully tried to crouch behind one of the chairs.
Now on his feet with fists pumping, Alfred proceeded to cheer her on,
"Go for it, Belarus! Give him hell…!"
"It's them…!" Ivan cried in trepidation, large hand pointed accusingly at Arthur and Francis, "it's them, those are the naked guys you want...!"
Matthew stood quietly at Alfred's side, long fingers loosely intertwining in his, and they watched with quiet curiosity as Belarus chased both Russia and France out the door to the back yard, hurling profanities and threats of eternal vengeance.
For once, all was right with the world.
"What a woman…"
Alfred murmured dreamily, and Matthew frowned, slapping his brother's shoulder with annoyance.
"Liechtenstein was right, you know," he quietly said. They both felt so jealous of each other—
Alfred grinned, his hand tightening in Matthew's.
"That's right,"
he said, turning slowly to his brother. He brought his hands toward him, reaching for him with curious reserve as he brushed his hair behind his ears. They had both hurt each other so much, each of them indulging in intimacy without regrets and without shame, but sex really wasn't the same thing as love, my only beloved, my brother, I only ever really loved you—
The racket in the back yard, the low sound of music still emanating from the nearby living room, chatter at the entrance to the kitchen—
Alfred kissed Matthew very slowly, his long arms possessively sliding around the small of his back.
Arthur stood at the window together with Roderich and Vash, and Liechtenstein, also, the four of them staring with mute astonishment at Ivan and Francis trying to escape—
"You've made a terrible mess,"
Matthew whispered to Alfred, head tilted back as his brother slowly kissed his neck, "your clothes are all sticky—"
"Are they?"
Alfred mouthed back, lips moving wet against the tremulous skin, and Matthew merely nodded, unable to form any words, so Alfred continued,
"We don't wanna get your review order uniform all sticky, do we—"
"N-no—we don't—nnh! Al...!"
As he continued to kiss him, Alfred slowly began to unfasten Matthew's belt, carefully undoing his buttons, he led him backward to the kitchen counter and then slowly lifted him onto there, Matthew's gentle hands carefully prying away Alfred's clothes—
By the time that half the crowd from the living room had gathered at the kitchen entrance, Alfred had Matthew on his back on the counter top, partway to naked, the two pressed against each other and kissing—
"I'm sorry,"
Alfred whispered,
"I'm sorry I called you those horrible things, I love you, Matty, I never meant to hurt you—"
Eyes closed, Matthew ran his hands tenderly over Alfred's slender back, affectionately, soothingly—his strong, big brother—
"I hurt you, too, didn't I, Al—"
he whispered, "I'm so sorry, too—"
"Why, Matty," Alfred mouthed, hands sliding gently over Matthew's flat abdomen, "why'd you have to do it, why'd you ever wanna get with anybody else—"
"I'm sorry,"
Matthew whispered again,
"It's like Liechtenstein said, I wanted the attention, I wanted to be noticed—I'm so sorry I hurt you, big brother—"
Poor little Matthew.
"How's this for attention," Alfred's voice came soft and humid against Matthew's lips, his long fingers gradually trailing their way farther down, "everyone's watching us, Matt—"
Very slowly, both brothers turned to gaze at the doorway, where a large crowed had gathered, the ladies slack-jawed as they watched, phone cameras running.
Alfred never stopped kissing Matthew. He never moved his hands away, the bundles of hair at his forehead falling softly onto Matthew's face, his lips still partly on his,
"Is this what you wanted, baby brother? Let's give them a show."
Matthew blushed furiously; now that all eyes were right on him for real, he was suddenly shy, helpless in Alfred's embrace as the older boy carefully disrobed him.
By now otherwise naked as the day he was born, Alfred tilted the rim of his cowboy hat just over his eyes, just almost to hide their faces as they kissed, "I'm not like Russia and France, but I'll take care of you, Matty."
Timid and shy, Matthew softly smiled back, wondering if he could really have done it with anyone else—now sober, aware, would he have truly felt protected with anyone but Alfred—
His long hair cascaded softly down as he tilted his head to kiss the older boy, "Please don't hurt me," he whispered, and Alfred's eyes twinkled with childlike curiosity—even though he knew that this was something Matthew said only because it was something that he liked to hear, it came inadvertently poignant just then—
"I'm sorry I hurt you,"
Alfred whispered, pointed tip of his nose buried in the crook of Matthew's neck,
"I'm so sorry, baby brother—"
His large hands continued gently to unravel the various bindings of Matthew's formal suit, he moved back along the counter as to pull off his riding boots and his trousers after that, yellow wisps of hair swinging over his forehead and lips slightly parted as he tugged open his red blazer to reveal his slender chest beneath, the ladies frozen in place and quietly murmuring stifled pleas for him to remove Matthew's briefs already, for the love of all that was holy—
Matthew kind of wanted him to do so, as well, aroused but terribly nervous all the while, unsure of how to handle all the attention now that he had it at last—
"They wanna see us kissing, Matty,"
Alfred whispered, and, clinging on to his brother's back for dear life, Matthew quietly nodded, dutifully reaching to kiss him again, his eyebrows rising to his hairline with innocent surprise when slowly Alfred's long fingers slid past the elastic of his briefs and trailed the length of his member under the fabric, Matthew's slender hips rising to meet him as of their own accord.
Alfred was aroused then, neither ashamed of his body nor attempting to flaunt it the way Francis or Ivan had theirs—accustomed to public attention as he were, he devoted himself entirely to Matthew now, gently stroking him beneath the white cotton cloth of his briefs, "Ready for me to take this off?" he breathed against his mouth, and Matthew continued kissing him in silence, clinging hard to his lips, far too nervous to either approve or deny him.
"Komm schon," Roderich said quietly to Vash, come on, "lass uns das nicht mit ansehen."
Let's not stare at all that.
Vash nodded, his hand closing by force of habit in his sister's, ready to tug her along out of the room—for a few moments, he held on—and then, quietly hanging his head, he released her, green eyes darting toward her in defeat.
"Du solltest dir das ansehen können, wenn du möchtest,"
You should be able to watch that if you want,
he quietly stammered—after all, there was no such thing as perversion or innocence, was there—his sister had said so, herself—everyone was curious about sex, there really was no—
Furiously blushing, he raised his eyes to Roderich's, nodding to him that they should go on—
—there really was no shame in that.
"Nur zu," Vash murmured nervously to his sister, go on, nevertheless not brave enough to meet her gaze, "auf sowas stehen Mädchen, nicht wahr?"
That's what girls are into, isn't it?
She merely gazed back in silence for several moments after the fact, finally nodding in agreement—that's right. Even if she was too shy to admit it to herself back at the first party, it was nice to watch, and it didn't make her a pervert or a horrible person to think so—it merely made her a normal woman.
"Danke, großer Bruder,"
Thank you, Big Brother,
she quietly smiled before turning on her heels and joining the rest of the ladies in the crowd—and, hands loosely intertwined, Roderich and Vash civilly made their way together out of the room.
Arthur wondered with subdued curiosity whether or not he should be watching all this.
Without removing his gaze from Matthew's face, Alfred slowly pulled the white cotton briefs down along his brother's long legs, affectionately, tenderly—those two had always loved each other, Arthur fondly thought, and even though he'd been quite intimately involved with Alfred, himself, he felt somehow intrusive just then; for some reason, he just couldn't stick around and watch—
He wondered how far Francis and Ivan had gotten by then, his body was still sore, wonderfully sore from Ivan's ministrations, his thighs were still wet—loosely tying his waiter apron back around his narrow waist, he stepped out into the back yard, there was no sign of the two of them there, nor of Natalia, maybe she was still chasing them out all this time—
Up on the counter, Matthew's long legs bent in modesty as Alfred gently laid kisses on his abdomen, his stomach, his white, bony hips, Matty, I love you, the both of them still wearing their hats, the mountie and the cowboy, otherwise you might never have told them apart—
Matthew gasped aloud when Alfred slowly kissed his member, lovingly, possessively, cheeks flushing crimson as he raised his head just enough to see what his brother was doing, the girls began crying out impatiently for Matthew to straighten his legs so that they also could see—and, embarrassed, he silently complied, murmuring apologies as was his nature, beginning to lose concentration as Alfred took him carefully into his mouth—
Natalia had beat Ivan good.
She gave Francis a good whooping, too, he just barely escaped as she very nearly cut his bits and pieces off with her knife, he thought she was very sexy, actually, if only she wasn't so far bent on castrating him—he tried to negotiate, explaining that, quite unfortunately, he really saw no action from her brother that night, that it was really Arthur she wanted, but to no avail—
She left him beaten and bruised and a bit cut and scratched, and completely in love, lying naked and senseless out in the orchard a few blocks away, and Arthur now bent over him with quiet contentment, poking him gracelessly with a long wooden stick.
"Oi, looks like she got ya,"
He murmured with partial amusement, still poking the stick down at Francis even after he'd opened his eyes.
Francis growled irritably as he gazed back in the darkness; his whole body hurt, his back felt completely stiff and his vision was partly blurry at first.
"Yeah,"
he murmured, voice hoarse and subdued, lips slowly stretching into a smile as the memory gradually returned,
"Yeah, she got me good."
All at once, he suddenly flipped his head up to gaze at his groin in a panic, and then, with a tremendous sigh of relief, he fell back down on his back, silently whispering, "Ah, Dieu merci—"
Oh, thank God—
Arthur snickered; this was priceless, he would've vowed then to make fun of Francis for the rest of his days, if Natalia had only been anywhere remotely near the only person to ever express the desire to castrate the guy.
"Well, see ya,"
Arthur said evilly before throwing the stick to the ground, rising to his feet and beginning to walk away, while Francis weakly reached out his hand after him,
"Hey…you're not just gonna leave me here, you little punk…!"
Arthur shrugged his shoulders without turning around, pacing down between the trees, apron flailing lightly in the night air, still vastly amused and snickering as he walked.
Francis then proceeded to hurl expletives at him in both English and French, menacing as he shook his fist, and then when that didn't work, eventually his curses turned to miserable pleading and whining in pain, until finally Arthur turned around in irritation and threatened to kill him if he didn't shut up.
Francis smiled in relief.
"Come on, England…"
He beckoned with a slightly pathetic grin, "Help Big Brother back in the house…"
"I'd rather you stayed out here and died. She should've cut them off, really…"
"You really say such horrible things…"
"Nothing short of what you deserve…!"
"Come and give Big Brother a kiss."
"Ha! I'd rather kiss a horse's arse."
"Is that what you're into…England, you pervert…"
"That's it! I'm leaving you here to rot!"
"Hey, hey…!"
XXX
Soft, wet sounds emanating throughout the large expanse of the kitchen, the room otherwise strewn in completely silence, all the ladies watching as, gingerly, carefully, Matthew lapped at Alfred's member—
Up on the counter, Alfred carefully brushed back Matthew's long hair, silently mouthing inaudible words, eyes glazed with arousal; Matthew looked docilely up, the fluid glistening clear out the corner of his mouth and trailing down to his chin, he didn't dare move his gaze away as he continued to have at him, and when finally Alfred asked him in the softest of tones if he could put it in then, Taiwan and Hungary somehow had heard, and they both went into terrible fits of squealing and cheering behind their phone cameras—
Alfred quietly shushed them, not because he at all minded the feedback, but because it was making Matthew blush even more, Alfred remembered how his brother reacted on reading their letter requesting his "services" some time before that—
—although, ultimately, deep down, Matthew had wanted to accept their request—
When finally the racket from the audience subsided, Matthew gazed toward his brother, slowly allowing the glittering member out from in-between his lips, and, licking carefully at the fluid, he timidly nodded at Alfred, voice near inaudible as he murmured back that it was okay to put it in—
—another series of cheers, this time a little more stifled but still loud enough to earn them a roll of the eyes from Alfred's direction, which they found charming, as well—
Very gently, Alfred laid Matthew back down, gently kissing him all the while and lapping at the fluid on his lips, carefully sliding the wet tip of his member just outside his entrance as Matthew slid his feet farther apart—
Matthew's eyes fluttered shut, long arms coming all around Alfred's neck in an innocent show of affection, his voice issuing forth very stifled and soft there against his brother's mouth—he blushed at the pleasant sensation and the profanely wet sounds from beneath—
Alfred's voice came forth just as innocent, it may as well have been their first time all over again, so wholesome, those two—no, sex wasn't the same thing as love, but theirs was a genuine show of love all the while, Alfred never stopped kissing Matthew as he slowly moved in, the both of them quietly gasping against each other's lips—
From somewhere far off, there came subtly the low sound of classical piano, Vash standing idly at Roderich's side while the other boy engaged at the task, long fingers running with composed proficiency across the ivory keys.
"Mach weiter,"
Go on,
Roderich quietly said without raising his eyes, "Setz dich."
have a seat.
For a few moments, Vash hesitated—then he finally sat, face stern as always but inwardly tingling alive, the slender digits of his hand shaking just a little as he raised them to the keys.
Out in the orchard, Arthur grumbled with vast irritation as he helped Francis walk, allowing the older boy to lean on him for support along their way, informing him exactly of how much of a pain he was all throughout their journey back to Francis' house.
They stopped just outside the glass doors leading to the kitchen, squinting at the warm light emanating from within, slowly rousing from their current argument as they realized just what they were looking at—
Francis' expression softened, for once affectionate and not perverse—
He tilted his head just enough to murmur the words at Arthur's ear, "Tout ça, c'est ta faute," this is your fault, you know, "pourquoi tu ne les a pas surveillés?"
Why didn't you watch them?
Arthur watched transfixed for a few moments more, eyes glistening wet with tender affection—it didn't feel like he was watching something perverse;
"Il s'aiment vraiment, ces deux là,"
They really love each other, those two,
he quietly murmured to Francis in response—but it did feel like they were intruding on something intimate—and even though a whole bunch of women were intruding, just the same, those were France and England's two little boys, after all—Arthur quietly laughed as he pulled Francis away from the kitchen door and around to the side of the house.
"Come on, let's get you cleaned up, you filthy wine bastard."
To be continued: Epilogue
—
Credit for the lines in French goes to Iosane and Maikichelorrain; credit for the lines in German goes to LumCheng and Seiichirou_uta - thank you all so much!
- 40
- 41
- 42
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Matthew is Mine