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Alfred x Matthew	By : flagfish Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 2284 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia, nor do I make any money from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Alfred x Matthew
- 2-Chapter 2
- 1
- 2
"Don't touch it,"

Arthur said, lightly batting Alfred's hand from his forehead. Face screwed with mild dissatisfaction, he carefully slid the other boy's hair from the damp skin of his forehead, still hot from the game before, and reached with his other hand to dab at the large, red scrape with alcohol-soaked gauze.

Alfred hissed.

Two feet away there sat Matthew, yellow hair disheveled and helmet under one arm, other hand pressing ice to a bruise on his chin.

"You boys play too rough," Arthur sighed, but there was no use pointing it out; even as the twins sat there nursing their wounds, there clearly was no regret; there clearly was satisfaction there in their eyes.

"Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow on the ice," Matthew hissed under his breath, the hand still on his helmet partly pointing, and, gazing from in-between Arthur's fingers, Alfred nodded, chin tilting defiantly as he muttered back, "buddy, it's on—"

"Hey, hey…!"

Arthur said, "That's enough taunting for one night, Alfred, I want you to sit still—"

Just barely attentive to the older boy's words, Alfred continued to glare at his brother, Matthew quietly glaring back. Arthur shook his head, the slender digits of his hand attentively at work as he peeled the wax paper away from a band aid before placing it on Alfred's forehead, combing stray wisps of hair aside; already Alfred's fingers were reaching to inspect the bandage, and again Arthur had slapped them away, turning his attention to Matthew now and proceeding to take the ice pack away from his chin.

"Let me see."

It was around that time Francis walked into the locker room, still wearing his coat, car keys dangling out from one hand. His gaze altered from Alfred to Matthew and back, and then he raised the hand that was carrying a plastic bag, with a large paper bag inside it.

"I got takeout…?"

He said, as though it were a question and not an announcement, as though he weren't sure, considering the circumstances, if such a thing were really fine. I come in peace, it seemed to imply.

Matthew's eyes rose toward Francis, chin tilting up so that Arthur could better inspect the wound, and then Francis came closer, as with mild interest to assess the severity of the damage.

"France, can you hand me that ethanol there, on that bench—"

Arthur asked, turning partway around to get it, himself, and Francis took a moment to scan the area to see what it was he was asking for,

"The what?" he asked, and then "this?"

Alfred was dabbing at his band aid, lips pressed together, he still could taste the blood on them from the inside—it was a good game. Matthew was winning, but then Alfred caught up—they'd been at a tie when they both collided so hard that they had to stop playing.

Needless to say, this meant it wasn't over. Needless to say, soon as Arthur got out of the way, they'd be back out on the ice, showing each other what's what. Alfred was only momentarily distracted by the prospect of dinner, hardly able to contain his impatience as Arthur proceeded to clean Matthew's wounds.

Ten minutes, Matthew mouthed, and, cracking his neck, Alfred already was pointing one hand, and Arthur saw, turning his head toward Alfred and then back at Matt, and then he called out, "Hey…! No one's going out there again and that's that…!"

Francis watched helplessly as the brothers clearly ignored Arthur, glaring bloody murder from across the first aid kit on the bench, Matthew mouthing profanities and Alfred already up on his feet in order to put him in his place—

Matthew slammed his helmet down on the bench, also rising to his feet, and soon they were pushing each other, the silent curses turning to audible words, until there ensued the next fight—

Matthew grasped at Alfred's jersey with proficient ease and pulled it over his head, and what happened after that, neither Arthur nor Francis could really intervene, the both of them cursing, Francis dropping his bag to the floor and Arthur rising irritably from the bench, the both of them uselessly trying to pull the twins apart, but it was too late by then—

—it ended with Alfred having Matthew beneath him on the floor, belly down and one arm locked behind his back, calling out for him to say how much Canada sucks, and Matthew, even as he squirmed beneath him in pain, clenched his teeth and shouted back, "Fuck you, Alfred—"

"Leave it," Francis sighed, standing with both hands at his hips and gazing irritably at Arthur across the way, "leave it, just let them be, they're both adults now," and he had to talk loud enough to be heard over Alfred and Matthew's curses and shouts, and finally Arthur resigned, annoyed that his various efforts at sorting things out had all been in vain.

"Yeah," he said at last, gazing unhappily at the brawl that proceeded on the floor, "sod it, let's go eat supper."

To be continued…
- 1
- 2
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Alfred x Matthew