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Sunder	By : tamasama Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 4271 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers: Hetalia. This is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to the lives of any persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. I make no profit from the writing of this work of fiction.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
CHAPTER SEVEN

It was about noon when Alfred finally began stirring. He groaned and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. He was tired and sore from the long, whispering argument he had been in with his brother the night before. That and the slightly too rough argument-sex that followed. He cleared his throat, it was still tender, and slowly opened his eyes.

There, staring at him from the side of his bed, was Ivan. Their faces were little more than a hand's length apart. The older man's breath smelled like booze and Winterfresh gum when he spoke. "Good morning, comrade."

Alfred shrieked and scrambled up and out of bed, hastily snatching his jeans from the loose headboard. Ivan just laughed and slowly stood, watching the younger man hop out the room with one leg in his pants and face bright red.

"Mattie, where the hell are you!" Alfred demanded, finally managing to get his left leg into the pant it belonged.

A quiet call of "in here" let him know to go to the kitchen. As he stomped through the living room he ignored a sharp yell for him to quiet down from Arthur, who was standing beside the futon only half awake. Ignoring the demand, Alfred stalked into the kitchen to find Matthew rummaging through the cupboards with an irritated look on his face.

"I really wish you wouldn't eat all the good stuff so fast." He grumbled, shutting the spray-painted door and making his way to the fridge.

"Ivan was in our room!" Alfred hissed, looking over his shoulder to see if he had been followed.

"Of course he was, I asked him to go wake you up."

Alfred grabbed his brother by the wrist and pulled him closer. He snapped through gritted teeth, "He was staring at me!"

Matthew yanked his hand away. "Oh boo hoo." He motioned to the open fridge. "We have no food, Alfred. How about you make yourself useful and go to the store?"

"I want that guy out of my house, Matt."

"Well it really isn't up to you." A long stretch of silence settled over them, both brothers staring each other down; Alfred glaring and clenching his fists in anger, Matthew looking bored yet stern.

After what felt like an eternity, Matthew finally broke the silence. "Go to the store and pick up some food. Take Ivan with you and explain things before you get back."

"What, you expect me to-"

"Yes."

"Hell no."

Matthew rolled his eyes. "Just do it, will you? I wanted to cook but we don't have anything and I'd really rather not wait until late to eat."

"Then take your bitch ass outside and get it yourself!" The argument went on like this for some time. Ivan came in and fetched a glass of water at some point, stopping the discussion in it's tracks, but the minute he left they started up again. Various threats and insults were thrown back and forth until, finally, Alfred caved.

"Make it quick." The younger sibling said, turning his attention back to the fridge.

Alfred leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest, huffing. Just then Arthur came into the room, his gaze shifting around the space and hands shaking lightly. He looked better than he did some mornings, the mornings where he would quake and sweat and stutter and pick at his arms repetitively. He asked if Alfred wanted to join him on some errands, a request to which the blond was forced to decline. Arthur just shrugged and left.

Not long after the Brit had gone, Alfred grabbed some of their stored-away money and went to the door. He turned his head to look at his guest, who was seated in the living room. "Ivan, Matt asked me to take you with me. Teach you some stuff."

"I am sure it will be great fun." Ivan said, following after the younger man. They walked a little way in relative silence, only the background noises of the city easing the tension. Ivan lit a cigarette and moved a little closer to Alfred, matching his steps.

"Dude do you need to walk so damn close to me?"

"Yes."

Alfred shot him a glare and moved a little to the left, only to be slowly followed. He spend up, slowed down, stopped suddenly, but nothing seemed to get the taller man out of his personal space. After some time he finally gave up, rolling his eyes. Ivan only gave a small chuff of a half-laugh past the smoke at his lips at the younger man's frustrations.

"May we stop at my apartment for a moment? It's not far from here and I would like to change my clothes."

"I guess so, yeah." Alfred conceded, pushing his hands into his pockets.

"Fantastic." Ivan flicked his cigarette ash away and a battered green Sedan drove by. "Just turn left up here and it will be three blocks down."

The area wasn't too much different from what Alfred was used to; gang tags on all the buildings, litter carried across the road by the wind. Various unsavory-looking people standing or walking around. Ivan's apartment was an ugly grey beast that stood five stories tall. Above the sea of graffiti that thinned as the wall became higher, there was nothing particularly interesting about the old building. Thin rectangular windows, broken front door that never fully closed, shaggy brown-spotted lawn. Ivan lead the younger man inside and up three flights of creaking steps to apartment number 56. The six had fallen crooked and there were five padlocks keeping potential burglars out. Once all of the locks were undone, Ivan invited Alfred inside and offered him a seat.

"Why's it so fucking dark in here?" Alfred asked, eyes owlish in the shadowed room.

"I blocked out the windows." Ivan explained smoothly. He shut the door, engaged all of the locks, and started for the dresser in the corner.

"Why?"

Ivan looked at him a moment as if thinking of something of some great importance. After a short time of awkward silence, he spoke quietly. "There is a crow that lives on the roof next door. I fear it was by them to spy on me."

They just stood there a moment looking at one another. Alfred unsure if he should take what he just heard seriously, Ivan somber in his conviction.

"You're just fucking with me right?" The American asked.

"Not at all, but what you do and do not believe is none of my concern. I will be back in thirty minutes."

Alfred nodded and watched the taller man disappear down a shallow hallway. The blond slowly wandered about the tiny apartment. He stopped in the kitchen to check the refrigerator only to find it locked. Who the hell locks their fridge? He thought, giving the door a couple firm tugs. The cupboards were stocked with canned meats and fish, chewy dark breads, and potatoes. Boxes upon boxes of powered eggs and milk took up the surprisingly large pantry.

Thoroughly dissatisfied with the meager offerings in the kitchen, Alfred moved on to the living/bed room. He vaguely noticed the surprising lack of cigarette butts or ash in the area. The entire place was cluttered, but strikingly clean. Alfred stepped over the mattress that lay crooked on the floor to get a closer look at the windows. Sheets of thick black paper were taped or stapled up, blocking all but the tiniest bits of light. Alfred pushed a piece back and saw that the windows had been nailed shut. He frowned; Well that's not weird as fuck or anything.

After a few more moments looking around (leafed through a stack of drawings, noticed a leaning pile of his own snuff films on the nightstand, found at least ten half-empty bottles of vodka stashed every which place) he finally sat down. The bed was as uncomfortable as he had imagined it being. He scooted back a bit to lean up against the wall. His movements kicked a bit of sheet away and revealed a few small blood stains. Alfred grimaced and put the sheet down over it so that he wouldn't have to come in contact with the dried fluid. He poked the computer on to check the time. Sighing softly, Alfrd flopped back against the wall with a pout. It had only been ten minutes. After a few minutes of just sitting there staring at the clutter on the walls, he started trying to come up with a beat-box tune.

Some time passed and just as he felt his scratch sounded perfect, Ivan's voice perked up from the hall. Alfred sputtered and immediately stopped what he was doing, bending a bit to try and judge whether or not Ivan had seen him doing something so embarrassing. "What?"

"Where is your cat?" Ivan repeated a bit louder from the bathroom. The door was cracked open and pale steam curled out of the opening.

"What cat?"

"The one you used to own as a child."

Alfred bit his lip a moment, expression softening. After a short time he looked back toward the bathroom, "She died."

"Oh?" Ivan cracked the door open a bit more now that most of the steam had cleared. He peeked his head out, silvery locks dripping. "How?"

"...Because I'm 'an idiot who can't follow basic instructions.'" He said in a mocking tone.

"Tell me."

"I thought Mattie already told you that story, it has to do with when we got into this."

Ivan's head retreated back into the confines of the bathroom. "He did not get that far."

"Well where did he leave off?"

"Leaving your home."

Alfred nodded and thought a bit. "Alright, so... We stole that dude's car and rode around for a while. You know, Mr. Blank or whatever the fuck. Just kinda kicked the shit, ya know? So yeah, we would just stop at some house in the middle of fucking nowhere. I'd get in first and Mattie would wait outside somewhere. We went in separately to be sure they don't catch us off guard. Like, if I go in and get shot then at least he's fine."

Ivan let out a grunt past the blue toothbrush in his mouth to show that he was listening.

Alfred crossed his legs into a pretzel shape and leaned forward on one arm to peek around the corner at Ivan. "So yeah, a long while back we broke into this old woman's house. She had to be like eighty or something... Oh yeah! We were like sixteen by this time. She was really nice. Gave me some candy after I pulled my gun on her."

"Such a pleasant-sounding woman."

"Oh totally. She was real cool so I told Matt I didn't want to knock her off. He wasn't too happy to hear it and it turned into a fight. Rolling around on the floor cussin' and yellin' like idiots in front of a complete stranger." Alfred placed his forehead in his hand and sighed.

"We acted like dumb little kids, it's a real shock we didn't get caught with how sloppy we could be."

"You were children, Alfred. Sixteen is still just a baby." Ivan reminded him, running a long shaving blade over his cheek.

"That don't matter much in jail."

"I suppose it doesn't." He agreed and finally came into the room.

"So anyway, after we were done fighting he ended up setting the whole house on fire! It just all went up like fwoof!" He threw his arms up to try and better express the destruction.

Ivan chuckled as he leaned up against the wall. He had changed into a simple dark gray long-sleeved T-shirt and a frayed pair of dark jeans.

"Old lady bit it." The younger man continued, "But whatever, she was gonna die any minute anyway, she was old as shit. So Matt was mad that I didn't kill her like he told me to and he wasn't talking to me. This might take a minute, if you wanna get going."

"Da, of course." Ivan said and offered Alfred a hand. The younger man sneered and waved it off before pushing himself up to his feet. They were back out under the heavy midday sun fifteen minutes before one o' clock.

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

Alfred was sixteen, a victim of hormones and sporadically growing limbs that rendered him quite clumsy. He was driving the old pea green minivan down highway 87. He, his cat Cally, and his younger brother were traveling from Chestertown to Stamford, New York. The van's windows were white with the splintered lines of frost that were allowed to flourish in the failure of the old vehicle's faulty heating. Alfred had a plush brown and tan scarf wrapped around his neck and was trying to squish himself further down into it to escape the evening's chill. He flexed his fingers and winced at the rub of his woolen glove's fabric over his chilly digits.

Matthew was fifteen. Puberty had been much kinder to him, gently easing him between youth and manhood. Zits were a rare nuisance, and he was beginning to fill out rather well. He was only 5'6, but he would keep growing if Alfred's height seemed to have anything to say about it. It was nice to be getting bigger, made everything that much easier. Although he missed just being a kid, he loved to know that he was much stronger than before. He could actually hold a girl down on his own now, without requiring Alfred's assistance. He way lying on the floor in the back of the van that they were currently living in, the fingers of both hands threaded and resting on his belly. He was staring at the ceiling, quietly entertaining himself with silly little fantasies. Thinking of the smooth feeling of a sharp blade on a woman's tender skin, opening up her throat so blood could gush out so prettily.

Cally, getting on in her years, yawned hugely. She lay dozing on the passenger seat curled into a tight ball against the cold. Alfred insisted on keeping her, even after all of this time, and she was never much of a nuisance. She ate what was given, used the litter box in the back of the vehicle properly, and never tried to bolt away when they stopped in some place or another. She could be overzealous in her cries for attention at times, but was never irritating or loud.

"Jesus fuck we need a new car." Alfred complained, sneezing loudly onto the steering wheel. He sucked a long booger back up into his nose and grimaced.

Matthew wanted to scold Alfred for being so disgusting, but he was making a point not to speak with him. He swallowed his words and tilted his eyes up to watch the skeletal tips of trees slip across the window, the rest of their bony forms hidden from view. The ride was silent, awkward, and horrible thanks to the broken radio. Both boys were desperately in need of a break from their near-constant travels. Alfred sneezed again.

"We're running outta gas and holy fuck it's cold in here!" The pronunciation of 'here' tapered off into a long whine that was thick with congestion. Alfred topped it all off with another sneeze that sent a glittering plume, little droplets of misted snot and saliva, all across the steering wheel.

Matthew abruptly sat up, finally being driven to break his prolonged silent treatment. "Alfred would you please cover your mouth when you sneeze? That's so disgusting!"

"I told you I was sick and shouldn't be driving but you didn't listen." Alfred complained, using the back of his gloved hand to wipe a stripe of snot from his upper lip. To Matthew's great disgust, the greenish slime clung to the fabric and spread all over the older boy's cheek.

"Stop touching things, you're gonna get snot on everything! Hey, hey!" Matthew slapped Alfred on the shoulder and pointed to a small building a ways up the road. "Stop at that station."

Once they were properly parked and filling the tank, Matthew sent Alfred off to the bathroom to clean up. When the tank was full, he put the hose back into the slot and strolled inside to browse for a snack. He wandered up and down the aisles with his hood pulled up to give him some sense of security in the wide open area. He hated being seen, being spoken to, being scrutinized and judged. After a quick pass around the store, he found it empty but for himself, his brother in the bathroom, and the attendant. Matthew stopped and passively studied a rack of candy, glancing over to the man at the counter.

He was older, maybe fifty, with salt-and-pepper hair combed back smoothly. His watery blue eyes were set heavy in their sockets and red-rimmed with the cold that had been going around. He was watching a small television with a slight frown of boredom. Matthew recognized the program but couldn't remember the name. After a while he grabbed a can of Pepsi and a candy bar and brought them up to the counter. The clerk's name tag said Warren.

Warren scanned the items quickly. "That your van?" He asked, nodding his head back to designate which vehicle he was talking about. It wasn't necessary; it was two in the morning and they were practically in the middle of nowhere.

When Warren's gaze fell on him, Matthew felt his skin crawl. He immediately dropped his head, unable to keep up the eye contact. Matthew couldn't stand it. Something about the way the man blinked, or maybe it was the twitch of his lips when he smiled. He bit his lip a moment, collecting himself, before he looked back up and cast a slight smile.

Matthew could feel the venom towards the man churning in his stomach. It made him nauseous, he made him nauseous. The boy's smile faltered for a moment. He didn't like this guy, this Warren. Matthew frowned and pushed his hands into his pockets. They were supposed to be lying low after the whole house-fire situation, the heat was on too strong, one misstep could land them both in jail.

"I'm robbing you." The words were on his tongue as the idea popped into his head.

The attendant raised an eyebrow then let out a small laugh. "Yeah whatever kid, just pay up."

A few seconds passed before Alfred came out of the bathroom. Matthew backed up from the counter a few steps then turned his face to his brother to speak. "Alfred, we're robbing this guy."

"You sure?"

Matthew nodded, and Alfred returned the motion. The older boy reached to the back of his pants and pulled out the .357 Sig pistol he was very proud of himself for procuring earlier that year. He pointed it at the attendant and clicked the safety off.

"Hey, hey, hey now guys..." The old man sputtered out, raising his hands and taking a step back. "Take whatever you want, I'm not stopping you."

"Don't fuck up and I wont shoot you." Alfred said. "Now come outta back there and kneel down."

Warren nodded and slowly came out into the open space, then dropped to his knees with a bit of difficulty. His old bones weren't what they used to be. Once he was down, Matthew went around the back of the counter and eyed the register.

"How do you open this?"

"Pound, thirty-eight, no sale, enter." A few beeps filled the air before the register popped open.

"You're doing real well at not getting shot," Alfred leaned in a bit, squinting at the man's nametag, "...Warren. Keep it up and you might get to eat dinner with the lady tonight."

Alfred took a couple fidgeting steps and thought for a moment before speaking. "She hot?"

"What?" Warren frowned a bit, shuffling from his uncomfortable place on the floor.

"Your wife, she hot? Big tits, right? You look like a tit guy." He snickered to himself before Matthew harshly shushed him.

"His wife would be old." The younger boy pointed out as he stuffed the last few bills into a bag. "Where's the surveillance tapes?"

"Office in the ceiling above the desk. Please don't do anything to my wife."

"Ah, sick, you're right. Naw man, don't worry about your old lady." Alfred paced back and forth a few times, always keeping the gun trained on Warren's head. "You might not think it since I probably haven't made the best impression, but I'm a nice guy. I know about love," He thumped his hand on his chest a couple of times to emphasize his point, "and I respect that shit."

Alfred cast a quick glance toward his brother as he spoke the dreaded L-word. He hadn't been able to say it out loud yet and was worried Matthew had heard. From the sounds of his climbing around in the small office, he hadn't.

Once all of the tapes had been taken, Matthew hurried around the store grabbing food and items that they would need and packing them into plastic bags. When he was done, he dropped a couple of bags next to his brother to carry. "Shoot him and let's go."

Warren let out a little shriek of fear, and Alfred turned a bit to look at his brother. "I said I wasn't gonna shoot him."

"Y-yeah he said if I didn't do-"

"Shut up, Warren." Alfred snapped, waving the gun at the older man before he turned back to Matthew. "But I did say that, you heard me."

"So what? Just shoot him and let's go."

Alfred frowned and looked over at the kneeling man. Something about him reminded the boy of his father. Not the way he looked, no, Ron had looked a little like an old and blond Gregory Peck, whereas this guy just looked like a stork. No, it was something else. Maybe the fact that he was so old. The shitty job was similar. Regardless of what it was, exactly, Alfred found himself beginning to feel a kind of jetlagged grief. He had liked his dad, damn it. He bit his tongue, started to squeeze the trigger, then dropped his arm. Alfred sighed and ran his free hand through his hair, sniffling as some snot began to peek out of his nostril. "I don't want to."

Matthew narrowed his eyes. "Shoot him and let's go."

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"I don't want to. Warren's a cool enough dude, I don't want to shoot him."

"Give me that!" Matthew snapped, taking a few steps forward to snatch the gun from his brother's hand. He pointed it at Warren, not even bothering to cast the terrified man a glance. "When I say 'shoot,' you fire."

He squeezed the trigger and flinched when the gun went off, spraying the contents of Warren's head across a rack of magazines. The old man's body slumped backward quietly, as if he had grown tired of the exchange and decided to lay down on the cold linoleum floor for a nap.

Matthew pushed the gun back into Alfred's hands and snatched up a few bags before storming out of the shop. The older boy stood there a moment, shocked silent as the muffled sound of a fast food commercial filled the now quiet store. After a while he put the gun's safety on and tucked it back into his jeans.

When Alfred came out, Matthew was seated in the van's passenger seat and idly leafing through an issue of Blade. Although he tried to keep his expression passive the irritation he was feeling was clear in the way he would turn the pages just a little too harshly.

Alfred climbed into the driver's seat and started the van. "You're a fucking asshole."

"Just drive." Matthew snapped, refusing to look up from whatever article he was skimming.

Alfred rolled his eyes and put the vehicle into gear. About two hours of stifling silence later they pulled into a sleazy motel just off of the highway. Alfred parked the van a little ways from the front door, leaving it to idle as he ran inside to check in to a room. The woman at the front desk was half asleep, her head lolling as she struggled not to fall face-first onto the polished mahogany surface.

"Hey!" Alfred belted out, slapping the desk. The woman let out a harsh shriek and jumped, nearly falling out of her chair. She shot a glare his way, caught herself, and plastered on the most friendly smile she could muster up.

"Would you like a room?" She asked in a lilting voice that was as sweet to Alfred's ears as a pot of honey.

He had to clamp his mouth shut a moment and ride out a fit of immature giggles. Her face, oh god her face had been priceless. If her reaction was that strong over a little startle, he wondered how afraid she might be if he flashed, not pulled, only flashed, the gun peeking out between his jeans and boxers. The color would drain from her cheeks, he was sure, like it always seemed to with the younger ladies. What if he pulled it out? Would she scream? Probably not. She looked the type to fall silent, pliant, cooperative, anything to keep herself from getting shot. The kind of girl that when making out hot and heavy, all hands and lips and tongues, who isn't ready to move beyond a harsh session of aggravated dry-humping, would say "no" when her man's hand would slip into her wet panties. She would say "no" and be ignored, and she would clam up and shake and quietly repeat the word as her man pushed into her anyway. The kind of girl who would go home and cry and ask herself "was it rape?" again and again but never say anything, never even dump her man and move on to greener pastures.

Alfred liked those kinds of girls. Soft girls, quiet girls, weak girls. He wondered if he could get her to let him fuck her with his gun. Not fuck her for real, he didn't cheat, just the gun. He bet he could. He bet he could get her to fuck herself back onto it and moan and cry his name through her sobs and tears. If he said he wouldn't kill her if she did it, anyway.

But no, now was not the time. Matthew was waiting, they were both tired and hungry and had, admittedly, been getting sloppy. They needed to lay low.

He flashed her a charming smile and her irritation visibly lessened. "Yeah, one bed for the night."

He wasn't sure if Matthew intended on staying for and extended period of time, but he didn't want to pay for more than he needed to. They were perpetually strapped for cash, with good reason, and he was trying to save up to buy a Buck knife for Matthew. He was putting away little bits of cash here and there, mostly change, as not to spoil the surprise. Of course he could just steal one if they came across it, but he felt the effort of buying it meant more.

Alfred paid for the room, got the key, and tossed a little wink at the clerk before sauntering back out into the bitter cold. He brought the van around back, closer to their room. Both boys grabbed a few items that they needed and hurried inside, sighing happily when they walked into the small room's heat. The room was a generic affair with a large bed in the center against the wall, a television sitting on a faux wood dresser, a cheap-looking microwave and mini-fridge by the closet, the window touched with frost and presenting a pathetic view of the rear parking lot. A cramped bathroom was adjacent the front door.

Matthew went about putting their things away while Alfred ran back outside to grab Cally, her litter box, and two folded down bags of fresh litter and cat chow. By the time he got back inside the microwave was beeping. Matthew took two Styrofoam instant noodle cups out and placed them on the counter to finish cooking, pinning each of the paper lids down with a plastic fork.

Alfred dropped Cally on the carpeted floor and she began slinking around and sniffing things inquisitively. He set the box and food and litter down in the corner then threw himself down onto the bed with a loud sigh of appreciation.

"It's so good to lay in a bed for once!" He exclaimed, stretching out and yawning.

"I'm just glad we have heat." Matthew said and turned the TV on. The guide channel was on, scrolling lazily through the meager channel lineup. Matthew flipped it to the news then took up their dinners and came to sit at the front of the bed. Alfred sat up and took his cup and dug in hungrily, hissing and wincing at the painful heat on his tongue.

"You're gonna burn your taste bugs off." The younger boy said, twirling noodles around his fork and blowing them cool.

Alfred rolled his eyes and kept on slurping the long strips. On TV the anchorman was reporting the recent disastrous house fire. It had been deemed an accident. When they were both done eating Matthew disposed of their garbage while Alfred changed into a pair of pajama pants. The younger teen went to the scratchy old armchair in the corner and sat down.

Cally meowed loudly, craving attention, and began rubbing her body along Matthew's pant leg. He patted his thigh and she took up his invitation, jumping up lithely and letting out a long meow that rumbled with the sound of her purring. He went about petting her as he addressed his brother.

"We need to lay down some ground rules or we're going to get caught."

"Like what?"

Cally pushed her head up against Matthew's palm and meowed again.

"We need structure. I'll come up with the plans, you just do what you do best."

Alfred frowned a bit. "And what is that?"

"Helping me."

"And why don't I get to do any plan stuff?" Alfred asked, but relaxed a bit. He hadn't expected to be praised. There weren't many things that made him happier than being helpful to his brother.

"Because you're not good at it. So just do what I say, alright?"

Alfred bristled at that. His plans weren't always bad! He was just as good as his brother at making decisions! "No way, dude! I wanna come up with shit sometimes too, it's boring just-"

"Alfred." Matthew cut in, but was ignored.

"doing what you tell me all the time! 'Alfred, I want her. Alfred, shoot them.' All you do is-"

"Would you please just listen to me?"

"No! You think I'm stupid! Well guess what, Matt? I'm not!" The older boy snapped, hopping to his feet and pacing to burn off some of the anger that was building. "I might not'a finished school and I might not try to talk all fuckin' fancy like you but that doesn't mean I'm a god damned retard!"

"I never said-"

He pointed an accusing finger at his brother. "If you were so god damned smart we wouldn't be in this fuckin' situation anyway! We coulda' just jacked the car and left home, you didn't need to go giving me stupid fucking ideas and-"

"Alfred!" Matthew yelled (to the best of his own quiet ability, anyway). "Do you really think you could do my job? Your scores in math sucked, do you really think you could manage our money? Figure out how far we can drive, how long we can go, without stopping? Can you even read a map?

"You're brawn, Alfred. You're strength and muscle and damn good at talking to people, I'll give you that, but that alone doesn't cut it out here and you'll just end up getting us killed because you can't control your idiot impulses!"

Taking a second to let his words settle over the space like an acrid smoke, Matthew placed one hand on the cat's back and the other on her head. She arched her spine up into the touch, ignoring the argument. "You're an idiot who can't even follow basic instructions and I'll slit your throat and leave you to bleed out before I let your foolishness put us in prison.

"When I say to do something, you will listen or I swear I will make you regret it." He finished, tightened his grip on Cally's small head, and gave it a harsh twist. The cat's neck snapped, the rapid-fire pop pop pop of her fragile bones sickeningly loud in the quiet room. Alfred stood there a moment, registering what had just happened, then let out a high-pitched shriek of horror and ran over to snatch the limp animal from Matthew's hands.

"C-Cally, hey.. Hey, hey kitty kitty kitty." He called to her, holding her close and trying to hold her head up from the unnatural angle it had fallen as if that would somehow bring her back. When she didn't respond he made a low-pitched keening noise and slowly sank to his knees, hot tears burning his eyes and slipping down his cheeks.

Matthew sat there a moment and let his brother cry. After some time of watching the boy weep and mumble the animal's name he slipped down from the seat and scooted over to him. He placed a hand on Alfred's shoulder. "She didn't feel it, I did it too fast."

Alfred slapped the hand away, hugging the animal tighter to his chest. "You killed her! Y-you fucking killed her and she never did nothing wrong to anyone!"

"Alfred," Matthew tried again and was once again slapped away, "Alfred, listen to me. Sometimes... Sometimes these things happen. Sometimes the things we like are taken and there's nothing that could have stopped it."

Alfred finally looked up at his brother, eyes red and shiny and a bit of snot starting to peek out from his nostril.

Matthew touched him again and wasn't pushed away. He took it as a good sign and pulled his older sibling into a firm hug. "Cally was a good girl, she really was. But you need to listen, alright? You need to listen to me and do what I say, alright?"

The older boy looked from Matthew to his cat and back again. "But why'd you hafta..."

"It's for the best." Matthew said, planting a soft kiss on Alfred's temple and lightly running his fingers through the teen's golden locks. He scooted a little closer and reached down to rest his hand on Alfred's crotch and nibble his neck. "How long's it been?"

Alfred swallowed loudly and squeezed his cat a little tighter. "Few days."

"S' been too long." Matthew corrected against Alfred's heated flesh, pulling his lips back to bite down firmly on the older boy's shoulder.

"I've been sick." Alfred hissed out through clenched teeth, wincing in pain when Matt's bite broke the skin. "Y-you're the one who said not to try anything so you didn't catch it."

Matthew gave a half-interested hum of acknowledgement, moving to gently pry the cat out of his brother's hold. He set her on the foot of the bed, patting her head affectionately, before turning his attention back to Alfred. He hooked his finger's in the waist of the boy's pajama pants and tugged.

"Dude, you killed my cat. What makes you think-" Alfred began with a frown, reaching down to push the offending hands away.

"Be quiet." Matthew deftly unfastened his own jeans and tugged them off. He slapped Alfred's hands out of the way and grabbed the hem of his pants again, this time giving them a strong tug. They slipped down around his thighs and he didn't complain this time around, just kind of grimaced and looked away. He was still upset of course but it was hard to ignore his torrential adolescent hormones. He tilted back to let his pants be slipped off completely.

Matthew sat himself on Alfred's lap, both of them nude from the waist down, and leaned in to pepper a few softer-than-usual kisses across his brother's lips and jaw line. He reached down between their bodies to take hold of Alfred's flaccid member and give it an encouraging squeeze. Alfred gasped quietly, more a puff of air than anything audible, beginning to come to life in his brother's hand. Matthew leaned in to nip and lick the shell of Alfred's ear while keeping up his hand's slow, deliberate pace until the older boy was fully hard.

The older teen hissed quietly when Matt's nails drug over his sensitive flesh. It hurt, but in a way that always made him twitch his hips up in a wordless plea for more. His brother scooted forward a bit, pressing their erections flush together, and Alfred let out a light moan at the sensation. Suddenly a thought flitted through Matthew's mind unbidden - it's only gay if the balls touch - and he had to struggle back an insane fit of laughter.

Alfred reached around to squeeze the boy's ass. "Matt do you think I could-"

He just shook his head 'no' and repositioned his hand in order to stroke them both at the same time and leaned in to capture Alfred's lips in a heated kiss. He deepened it, enjoying the decidedly 'Alfred' flavor that never failed to remind him of cola and something spicy he could never quite put his finger on. He pushed the pad of his thumb a little too firmly against the tip of Alfred's dick, smearing the little bead of pre-cum that was gathering there.

Alfred gasped into his brother's mouth. That had hurt, damn it, but it brought him closer anyway. It felt like it had been so long since he'd had some kind of release. He thrust up into Matthew's hand and let his hands rub over the boy's soft ass. Maybe someday he'd get a crack at it, but apparently not now. Disappointing but not terrible.

"You can fuck me when I'm dead." The younger boy would often say before rolling them over and placing himself in the driver's seat. Well Alfred didn't know about all that, but he was sure he would get his chance eventually.

Matthew's hand picked up speed and he broke the kiss, cheeks flushed and little pants coming through his slightly parted lips. He leaned forward to lay his head on Alfred's shoulder, thrusting his hips down to increase the friction. Wow, it really had been a while. He wasn't going to last nearly as long as he would have liked and he kept having to force the memory of that satisfying little chorus of snaps the cat's neck made from his mind lest he cum too early and embarrass himself.

"Shit Matt, I'm s-sorry but I'm gonna..." Alfred groaned out, grabbing Matthew's hips and trying to stop his movements.

"No, that's fine." Matthew muttered. Well, at least he wasn't going to go too fast and deal with his brother's rude jeering for the rest of the night. He squeezed their members tighter and sped his ministrations.

"Nngh, god Matt, bite me!" Alfred yelped out and Matthew complied without a word, sinking his teeth into the teen's shoulder and harshly scraped his nails over Al's dick, careful not to scratch his own. With a strong shudder and moan-turned-cough Alfred came, shooting his spunk up between them and across Matt's hand. The younger boy quickly followed suit and they sat there a moment, breathing hard and waiting for the after glow to wear off.

"I'm tired." Matthew muttered without lifting his head.

"No."

He scooted back a bit to look his brother in the face. "What do you mean 'no?'"

"You're not going to bed yet, we still gotta bury Cally."

"Just put her in the fridge for the maids tomorrow."

"No way!" Alfred snapped, "We're gonna give her a proper-a-a-ACHOO!"

A plume of snot exploded out directly into the younger boy's face. Matthew sat there a moment, staring shocked and wide-eyed at his brother, who stared right back before bursting into a fit of hysteric laughter.

After they were cleaned up of various bodily fluids and the inevitable fight that broke out on the floor, they wrapped the cat's corpse in a towel and grabbed a shovel out of their van. When they pulled the door open, a harsh and icy wind blew in and made them wince. They were both tired but Alfred insisted on giving the poor creature a proper burial. Wind howled and snow crunched under their feet as they went past the parking lot and out into a thick patch of Birch trees. They were both quiet for the walk, save for Alfred's occasional sneezes and Matthew's quiet queries of where, exactly, they were going to be burying her and if they were close. A little more than a mile of walking later, Alfred finally deemed a small clearing in the trees to be the best place. He and Matthew played a quick game of paper-rock-scissors to see who would be digging.

"You should say something." Alfred said a good half-hour later, dropping the shovel to the side and loudly sucking snot back into his nose. The sun was starting to climb over the horizon, painting the sky pink and red.

"Like what?" Matthew asked, standing next to him and looking down at the little hill of dark soil that marked the fresh grave.

"I dunno, anything."

The younger boy cleared his throat and thought for a moment before speaking. "Cally was a good cat, and... um... She was getting old anyway so I suppose this isn't too bad."

"You're a jerk." Alfred muttered, reaching out and snatching Matthew's hand in his own. He winced a bit from the pressure, having developed a couple of blisters from gripping the shovel's wooden handle for so long in the bitter cold.

"Sorry."

Alfred just shrugged and a dog bayed in the distance. After a long time he took a deep breath and spoke. "I love you, Mattie.

The younger boy turned to look at him, somewhat shocked, before cracking a little grin.

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

"Ah shit, I'm gettin' all sappy and romantic on ya." Alfred laughed, stretching his arms over his head enough to audibly crack his back.

"Romantic?" Ivan asked, slowly lifting an eyebrow.

"Well yeah dude, with the snow and the sun comin' up and all that romantic movie shit."

"I do not mind, your affection is quite clear." He said, digging in his pocket to retrieve a smoke.

"You're actually cooler with it that I expected. Arthur flipped his shit when he found out." Alfred said, chuckling at the memory. "Oh and you might not want to light that, we're going in here."

Ivan nodded and put his cigarette away, recognizing the destination; The smut shop that he popped in to every now and again. "Why are we here?"

"Well Mattie asked me to show you the ropes and shit so I thought I should explain some things. This place is on the way to the store so I thought it'd make sense to drop by real quick. So me and Matt'll record our shit sometimes and we sell it to Ludwig, the guy who owns this place. I call him Luddy sometimes because it pisses him off. He doesn't say anything about it anymore but yeah, totally fucking hates it." Alfred explained, pulling the door open and stepping inside.

They were greeted by the soft tinkling of the door bell and a loud yell of "shut the damn door you're letting the AC out!" Ludwig wasn't in that day. The counter was manned instead by a guy with white hair and striking red eyes. He was dressed casually in a faded pair of blue jeans and a T-shirt sporting a humorous logo. His hair was tussled and unkempt as if he had been sleeping not more than five minutes ago.

"How the fuck do you expect to get any business just yelling at potential customers like that!" Alfred yelled back.

"Potential customer my ass," the man returned, "you never buy shit you broke fuck!"

"Ivan," Alfred turned a bit to catch the taller man's attention, "this is Gilbert, Ludwig's pissy little albino-freak brother."

Gilbert flipped him off.

"Gil, this is Ivan. He's Matt's... Acquaintance." The word was bitter on his tongue.

Gilbert flipped Ivan off as well. "Any friend of Al's is a piece of shit."

"He's not any friend of mine." Alfred grumbled and Ivan just cast him a disarming smile. "Anyway, any more pay on that last vid?"

"If it were up to me you wouldn't see a god damned a dime." Gilbert sneered, poking a code into the cash register and popping it open. He pulled an envelope from under the bill tray and tossed it.

"You're a real bitch, you know that?" Alfred caught it and tucked it into his back pocket and turned to leave. Gilbert just huffed and waved them off dismissively. Once they were back out onto the street, Ivan spoke up.

"He doesn't seem to like you very much."

"He's a moralfag. Not enough to rat us out or anything since Lud appreciates our business, but still." The younger man explained, pulling the envelope open and riffling through the bills.

Ivan's eyes narrowed as he watched Alfred count his money. His fingertips twitched a bit and he frowned. Once the blond had counted the bills, four hundred and eighty dollars, he tucked it into his jeans pocket and started off down the road.

"How do you know he wont tell anyone about you?" Ivan finally asked and Alfred just shrugged. A few minutes of walking lapsed in silence, and soon they found themselves at the nearest grocery store; a crappy little hole-in-the-wall type place with harsh florescent lighting and grey-stained tile floors. Alfred grabbed a hand basket and pulled a crumpled shopping list from his pants pocket.

"Where the hell is the per-mah-se-on." He wondered aloud, looking at the signs that hung over the aisles.

Ivan peeked over the man's shoulder, which wasn't hard due to his height. "Parmesan."

Alfred snatched the paper away, crumpling it in his fist. "Like you'd know, commie. You can barely speak English."

Ivan frowned but let the insult go. There was no point in pushing it into an argument, especially if he ever intended on giving the boy a go. Ivan eyed him up and down as they wandered through the aisles. Alfred didn't seem to like him very much, but that didn't really matter. The man seemed to obey his brother fairly well, so if Ivan could warm Matthew to the idea he probably wouldn't need to use any kind of force.

"Alfred," Ivan piped up in the frozen food aisle. "Have you ever slept with any men other than Matthew?"

The man in question dropped a bag of frozen corn into the basket he was carrying and turned to cast Ivan a slightly offended glare. "Hell no, I don't cheat and I'm not a fag like you. Why do you just assume I'm a homo?"

Ivan was taken aback by the response, as well as somewhat offended. "You enjoy having sex with Matvey, yes?"

"Obviously, and his name is Matthew."

"That sounds a bit gay, Alfred."

"Naw man, being a fag is a sin," Alfred scoffed. "Besides, I love tits too much to be gay."

Ivan trailed after the younger man as they made their way up to the counter. "I did not take you for the religious type."

Alfred elbowed a teen out of his way and took a place second in line. He dropped his few items on the belt without care to any sort of order before he spoke again. "A'course I am man, God's my bro."

"Murder is a sin, Alfred."

The blond rolled his eyes. "Pfft, if the Lord cared He would have struck me down a hell of a long time ago."

Ivan let it drop and Alfred finished checking out. He dropped the bags into the older man's arms with a rude comment about how Ivan needed to make himself useful and beckoned him to follow out of the store. The walk back was a fairly quiet deal that allowed Ivan all of the time he wanted to vividly imagine how, exactly, he was going to make Alfred regret his offensive treatment. Every now and then Alfred would pipe up about various things; That they paid their friend Arthur rent and a small fee to be allowed to scope for people in his club, that they kept themselves afloat by stealing objects of value from their victims as well as shooting videos, that they made a percentage of however much money their videos sold at Ludwig's shop, how frustratingly difficult it could be keeping their faces out of the public eye in order to retain their freedom to move about without a disguise. By the time they walked into the brothers' house it was just past three o' clock.

Matthew greeted them with a pleasant smile, then reprimanded Alfred for making their guest carry everything. Said man just shrugged and went into the living room to play video games and complained loudly about how old and terrible their television was.

"Ask Arthur to get us one." Matthew recommended as he handed drinks to his brother and Ivan before disappearing back into the kitchen to cook.

"He's a greedy cunt." Alfred grumbled but still sent the text. They ate over an old Western film and polite conversation was carried between Ivan and Matthew. Every now and then Alfred would interject something rude aimed at their foreign guest for the most part he held his tongue. Whether he was too interested in the movie or he feared Matthew's irritation was up for debate.

When the sun was starting to set Ivan stood and announced that he was leaving.

"Oh? Where to?" Matthew inquired.

"I have work in the morning so I am needing to try and sleep. I will see you again, thank you for having me."

"Good riddance!" Alfred called back at him then went back to watching cartoons.

"Shut up, Alfred." The younger sibling turned to smile at his guest. "Well feel free to come around whenever. Would you mind swapping cell numbers?"

Ivan, of course, didn't mind at all. After a moment of quiet typing Matthew got a text and added the number to his contact list. With that Ivan said goodbye took his leave. Outside of the house he took a deep breath and pushed his hands into his pockets. He started home and for a moment felt the strong sensation of being watched. He looked around himself and frowned. It was them, he just knew it. How they found him so far from Russia he didn't know, nor did he care to find out. He just ducked his head, pretending that he hadn't noticed, and kept on home. He walked a little faster than normal, intent on getting home as quickly as he could. If they were going to come and try to take him he would rather it happen in the protected fortress of his own home than out in the open.

When he finally reached his apartment he let himself inside and slammed the door shut behind himself and engaged all of the locks. Hopefully that would keep them out, at least for a little while.

A/N:

Cally

Born: Chapter four - Died: Chapter seven

Your trusting nature will be rewarded in cat heaven.

I do not own: Axis powers: Hetalia, Winterfresh gum, Pepsi, Glock guns, Blade magazine, Buck knives, or Styrofoam brand polystyrene.

Holy shit guys, I suuuuuuck at doing anything quickly. Sorry for the slowness, my muse was literally gone for a while there. Couldn't do anything. Shit sux, I sux, we all sux. Or whatever.
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