Character(s) or Pairing(s): America, England, Canada, America/Canada, America/England.
Warnings: Language and sexual situations.
Summary: Alfred and Arthur continued to date and existed as a cheery couple, having their intimate moments behind closed doors and constantly holding hands in public, even at school...
“What the hell is wrong with you!? You can’t do things like this, Mattie, you just can’t. It’s tearing me apart!”
“You’re being torn apart? What about me!? You don’t love me anymore and I have no one else to turn to, I’m alone!”
“I still love you, damn it, but like a brother. And I want to help you, to support you! You’ll hurt yourself even more otherwise! We need to get you some therapy or something… anything!”
“No! I don’t want anything from you or Dad or a therapist! Leave me alone, like I’m meant to be!”
They didn’t speak after that. A final, mutual glare was exchanged and they walked out of the kitchen through the two separate doorways. When their father returned from work later that evening, they both came down to greet him at the front door, their smiles painfully false.
“… And you’re sure everything is all right at home?” Arthur questioned his boyfriend, reaching over across the couch to squeeze his hand for what seemed like the millionth time. The action had become so frequent during this conversation that Alfred was beginning to become annoyed with it, wondering if he should have come for a visit in the first place. No, that wasn’t the issue here - they should certainly be spending time together, like they were at Arthur’s house in this very moment, though it was a mistake to be discussing Matthew and his current condition. It had been a week since that bloody, rainy day, he had nearly pushed the memory out of his mind completely!
In fact, Alfred had realized that it was such a mistake to talk about his twin, he hadn’t even informed Arthur of the self-cutting incident. That would be too much. He only wanted to be concerned with Arthur, who he was loving more and more each day, and not with Matthew, who was steadily becoming less and less a part of his life. It was easy to ignore and forget about someone who spent the majority of their time locked away in their room, pouting or cutting. Whatever, he couldn’t bring himself to care much after that fight, his disaster of a twin no longer in his line of sight. All he could see was those gorgeous emerald green eyes, half-lidded and leaning toward him…
‘Tell Dad that I have to stay after school for some French stuff. It’s AP work, you wouldn’t understand.’
Alfred made a face at the snobby text he had received walking home from school, he walked by himself nowadays, silently vowing to relay this information to his father, but for their poor old man’s sake, not because he was happy to oblige to Matthew. Hmph. He hardly fretted over what his twin did at this point, he was too upset with him, and he would be content as long as their father’s feelings weren’t hurt. That’s why he would trot into their home with a grin and chirp about how sweet Matthew would be studying extra hard after school today, and that everyone should be so proud.
Little did he know, if he ever found out what his twin was actually doing, his disgust for him would manage to skyrocket higher.
Matthew had sent the text to Alfred after he had slowly finished packing up from his last hour of the day, having typed it while he shuffled amongst the Academy’s many corridors. The text was half of a lie - indeed, he was headed to his French classroom, though not for any cram session. In reality, he wasn’t quite too sure as to what exactly he was seeking out, and yet he had confidence he would find it. That confidence soared when he squeaked open the door to his French classroom, his teacher peering up from behind a stack of assignments and initially greeting him with a smile.
“Bonjour, Mathieu,” Monsieur Bonnefoy said in accompaniment to the smile, addressing his student by his French-given name as was done during class time. He swiveled his chair away from the stack of assignments and removed his black-rimmed reading glasses, tucking them into the pocket of his dress shirt. “What can I do for you?”
Matthew suppressed a shiver. He knew that he shouldn’t be trying to get cozy with his twenty-six-year-old French teacher, but he honestly believed that he had nobody else in his life, and that transition from eloquently-executed French to barely-accented English never failed to stun him. And, oh, damn, those glasses on him looked fantastic, they gave him a beautifully blended air of intelligence and compassion - he wish he hadn’t taken them off! After watching the man tuck a few stray blonde locks, disturbed by the movement of his glasses, back into his ponytail, he cleared his throat. He stepped forward and shut the door behind him, also subtly locking it so that they wouldn’t be interrupted. This was far too important, whatever this was.
“I just… wanted to chat,” he responded with, choosing to skip out on any possible chances to use French. Besides, the romance language sounded much better when Monsieur Bonnefoy spoke it. He drew in a deep breath, moving to sit at one of the two chairs near the teacher’s desk, the khaki fabric of his uniform pants rustling, almost whimpering, while he sat down, as if conveying his anxiety for him. The breath drawn from earlier was released, “I feel like, like you’re the only one I have to talk to. I’ve been having some troubles at home lately. It… It’s mainly my twin not being as supportive for me as usual. We’ve grown apart in a time when I need him the most.”
He waited, hoping to be accepted. On the subject of Alfred, the taller of the twins had actually assisted in this push toward Monsieur Bonnefoy for comfort, stemming from that tension-filled day when he had jokingly paired him and Matthew together.
Monsieur Bonnefoy blinked, setting the pen he had been holding on top of the stacked assignments. He then blinked for a second time, also thinking in the process. Aquamarine irises, nearly the same shade of blue as Alfred’s and certainly darker than Matthew’s, scanned over the boy in front of him. Right, he had to remember that, that Matthew was a boy. An extremely emotionally fragile boy and his student. Careful now, keep on the ball here.
“Oui, Mathieu, I understand. I have noticed that you’ve been more quiet than usual in class, and have been frowning more often,” he stated in truth, since it was part of any teacher’s job to note the behaviors of their students. He put on a slight frown of his own, rubbing thoughtfully at the stubble on his chin and saying, “But I’m here for you. We can talk about your twin - Alfred, isn’t it? - and the problems with him as much or as little as you would like… I’ll help you in the best way I can.”
It was his turn to be accepted, placing his right hand on Matthew’s nearest thigh and giving a light squeeze, awaiting a reaction. His gaze glinted. This is where he was beginning to push boundaries, so quickly and prominently, although so worth it if he was successful.
“… That’s exactly it, Monsieur Bonnefoy. I-I’m lonely, Alfred found someone special when I had just lost my own significant other,” Matthew explained, forcing himself not to cry while additionally forcing himself to stand and rest both his hands on either of his teacher’s shoulders. The bold move was done under the safety of a locked door in a windowless classroom, done to display how serious he was. It was now or never. He went on, licking his lips and bending forward, “I’m without a boyfriend and without a twin to comfort me. He’s off having fun while I sit at home, wishing… wishing I had his social and sex life. I’m not a weepy virgin, as hard as that is to believe, but I’m stubborn and know what I want.”
He was panting softly when he finished speaking, partially from his sexual excitement, something he hadn’t felt in a long while, and partially from his sheer nervousness of the situation. Anything could happen now, it all came close to overwhelming him, and he found himself unable to make proper eye contact, his head inclined downward… It wasn’t until Monsieur Bonnefoy’s fingers tucked under his chin and raised it that the contact was made. Crucial contact with unspoken promises and desires.
Although it was the older and more experienced of the two who initiated their following actions with a kiss, it was Matthew that wound up taking charge. He was the one who chose to sit in Monsieur Bonnefoy’s lap and straddle his hips, who furthered the kiss by adding his tongue into the mix, who firmly pressed and rubbed his backside against the bulge in the pants beneath him. He breathed feathery moans and groans every chance he had. And it wasn’t that he was aiming to be like some schoolgirl slut, he just wanted relief from the stress and heartache he had been dealing with over the past couple of weeks. It wasn’t fair that Alfred, damn him and that boyfriend of his, was getting off these days without him, why couldn’t he make something for himself? In his rather warped mind, he saw absolutely nothing wrong with taking this limited, drastic option of fucking around with his French teacher. Hey, it had a pleasant ring to it, and he was being satisfied both mentally and physically, his mind now understanding that his twin wasn’t the only one seeking happiness, his body heated and tingling in the most sensitive of places.
After a quick conversation involving the preferred use on Monsieur Bonnefoy’s first name, Francis, instead of his formal name, and involving the confirmed privacy of them in the classroom, the situation turned to it’s high point.
“I don’t have any lube or condoms here, Mathieu, so… What would you like--?”
“How about I just suck you off? You can return the favor when I’m finished.”
“… Oui, let’s do that. Get under the desk.”
Soon enough, Francis was having one of his naughtiest fantasies fulfilled - a lovely young man, underage and a uniformed student, was relieving an erection for him with his mouth. It was made all the better by he himself being able to arch back comfortably in his chair while whispering sweet nothings in French, the words especially beautiful because they were comprehended by Matthew. He sighed in delight.
When he finally released and it was time to switch roles, Matthew was made to lie face-up on the desk, the stack of assignments pushed aside. He whimpered and squirmed and begged for more once he had caught his at the end of his climax, nearly driven into another orgasm at the sight of Francis, lips dripping with his semen and tongue darting out to sweep it up. He blinked at his teacher, innocently and expectantly.
They made arrangements to meet again, though, of course, certainly not in the classroom in the afternoon. They would most definitely be meeting at Francis’ condominium in the less affluent half of Manhattan, where he assured Matthew of wonderfully romantic things such as red wine and roses…
“What’s more, we can play out whatever kink or fantasy you want there. Cross dressing, bondage, chocolate syrup, whatever you would like,” Francis purred at Matthew as he stood to leave, trusting him immensely with no threats to not turn him in for sexual assault of a minor or what have you. This was fine with him, as it was consensual and enjoyable. He merely smiled and waved, the motions mimicked by the boy opposite of him. “Au revoir, mon doux.”
In the next few weeks, in the next few months, everyone’s lives went on as if nothing was amiss. And, when it all came down to it, there really wasn’t anything too terribly wrong. Alfred and Arthur continued to date and existed as a cheery couple, having their intimate moments behind closed doors and constantly holding hands in public, even at school. The majority of the students and staff members didn’t have any issues with this, and there was no longer a need to hide it from Matthew. The quieter of the Jones twins had grown out of being his sibling’s lover, his problem. There were no more unwanted bedroom advances, or self-harm incidents to be dealt with, he was his own, fairly independent person who treated Alfred with respect and brotherly love. He had friends that he had made without his twin and maintained his excellent grades, French in particular.
His relationship with Francis was kept in the dark, and Matthew was kept perfectly happy, their steamy midnight encounters and the compliments he received during Francis’ homemade gourmet meals in the evenings before brought a new light to his eyes. He had his own life, no matter how twisted it may seem.
“You’re going out with Arthur tonight?” Matthew asked his twin, walking slowly down the stairs of their home to the first floor, having recently awoken from a nap and rubbing at his face. It was a Saturday afternoon in December, he could be lazy if he chose to be! “Do you want me to tell Dad when he gets home?”
This time around, Alfred was perfectly inclined to answer him when the matter of who he dated was brought up, hearing no hatred in the other blonde’s voice, “Yep! There’s no football practice this weekend and Arthur says he can get us into a pub downtown, so we’re going to try and drink… And, heh, yeah, tell Dad I’m out, but not about the alcohol, okay?”
“You know,” Matthew started as a final thought, relaxing against the banister while watching Alfred pull on his bomber jacket at the front door, “I was thinking of going out tonight, too. You see, there’s this great guy…”
Alfred turned in his direction and grinned, “Oh, really? Good for you, Mattie. I hope you do go out tonight, have a little fun, but don’t do anything stupid and illegal like me.”
Obviously, when he stated ‘stupid and illegal’, he was referring to the alcohol. However, when his twin opened his mouth and spoke, he didn’t catch what was being referred to, not that he would have managed to handle it.
“Illegal? Well, I don’t think I can avoid that.”
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Here's the final part, everyone! I hope you all enjoyed the story and I'm sorry that I can't write any more for this. >.<;;