Archive of Our Own

Let it be known that Matthew Williams-Jones does not like coffee.

He had always preferred tea over coffee. His twin brother, Alfred, would disagree with him heavily. The boy practically lived off of coffee, buying it almost every day. For Matthew, coffee was too strong to suit his liking. He preferred teas with subtle tastes to soothe his tongue.

With that considered, Matthew Williams-Jones should not be a regular at his local Starbucks.

…He was anyway.

He found himself frequently visiting the Starbucks on his college campus. He went almost every day. Granted, he first only started going when Alfred would drag him there, and Matthew would really have no say in the matter. But as of recently, he had been going on his own free will almost every single day.

And his frequent visits had nothing to do with the handsome, silver-haired barista who worked at Starbucks. No matter what Alfred said!

Sure, the barista was cute. But that was just an objective fact! Anyone would think so. He had the nicest shade of silver hair, almost like the moonlight. His eyes were a bright contrast to his hair, as they were bold and red. He was nice to look at, but that didn’t mean Matthew would go out of his way to order Starbucks every day, despite not drinking coffee, just to see someone he found slightly attractive. That would be absurd.

“Tall caramel frappuccino for Matthew?”

A voice called out, a German accent peeking out with every word. Matthew snapped out of his thoughts, turning to the counter where his drink was prepared. It was early in the day, an awkward time for 8 AM classes to not be over, but still too early for the 9 AM students to show up. So, the Starbucks wasn’t too busy, and it was just Matthew and a few other customers in the building.

Matthew walked over to the pick-up counter where the silver-haired barista stood, his hand still on the drink he had just called out. When Matthew approached, the barista’s red eyes fell on him, and Matthew could suddenly feel his face heat up.

“You’re Matthew?” The barista asked, his hand still on the drink. Matthew opened his mouth to talk, but found his mouth too dry, and no sound came out. Instead, he opted to nod his head. The barista lightly pushed the cup toward Matthew, giving him a wide grin and winking. “Enjoy your drink, Matthew.”

The barista walked away to prepare other orders, and Matthew could barely process what had just happened.

Despite the fact that his face felt like it was on fire, and his heart was beating so fast that Matthew felt he was going to die, his visits to Starbucks had nothing to do with how the silver-haired barista made him feel.

Absolutely nothing.

***

Matthew swung open the door to his and his brother’s shared dorm.

Alfred, the lazy slob he was, lay on his bed in nothing but his sweatpants from the other day, and his glasses were crooked on his face. A line of drool dribbled from his mouth and piled onto his pillow. His clothes were all over his bed and chair, and his backpack was on the floor, untouched. Clearly, Alfred had no intention of doing his homework anytime soon.

Matthew grabbed the pillow from underneath Alfred’s head, causing the boy to stumble a bit, but he was still sleeping. He whacked Alfred’s face with it as hard as he could. “Wake up!”

Alfred shot up, accidentally headbutting Matthew as he did. Matthew squawked, doubling over in pain. Alfred looked over, groggily rubbing his eyes, and then, once registering who it was, he smiled brightly. “Mattie! Good morning, thanks for waking me up, bro! What time is it even?”

“It’s ten minutes into your physics lecture; I’ll tell you that,” Matthew snorted, lightly massaging the spot Alfred had injured him. Alfred must’ve been really out of it, because he stared at Matthew with a bright smile for a good five seconds before fully processing what was said. Then, once it hit him, he scrambled out of bed, knocking over Matthew in the process. “No way! Please tell me you’re fucking with me; I cannot be late to that class. I’ll never hear the end of it from Ivan!”

“Remind me again why you like someone who does nothing but bully you? You’re both like elementary schoolers…” Matthew wheezed from the floor, once again in pain. Alfred stepped over him, well, more like on him, as he reached to grab his hoodie from across the room, which was somehow at the foot of Matthew’s bed.

“I don’t like him, I hate him, actually. And he definitely doesn’t like me,” Alfred said, throwing the hoodie over his head. “All he does is mock me for being a ‘stupid American’. Like, what do Russians even know anyway? What have they ever accomplished?”

“They were the first nation into space,” Matthew mentioned, getting up and adjusting his glasses. He knew he struck a nerve with his brother. As a kid, Alfred was obsessed with becoming an astronaut and learning all about the mysteries of space. Actually, it was part of the reason he chose to go into engineering for college. He wanted to go into aerospace engineering and work for NASA. So, Matthew knew bringing up one of Alfred’s favorite subjects and his supposed mortal enemy in the same sentence would bring nothing but rage.

He was right, because Alfred let out a whine and stomped his foot like a child throwing a tantrum. “Shut up, Mattie! I’m super late; I have to go.”

“Wait, Al, I was just joking! Sorry, eh?” Matthew said, not sounding the slightest bit remorseful. He reached for the coffee he had grabbed that morning. He handed it to Alfred, who was seconds away from walking out the door. “Here, I got this for you this morning. I ordered something extra sweet!”

“Aww, Mattie!” Alfred cooed, leaning over to condescendingly pinch Matthew’s face. Matthew frowned and swatted Alfred’s hand away, and Alfred grabbed his coffee from him. He took a long sip, licking his lips afterwards like a glutton. He even somehow managed to get whipped cream on his chin; Matthew decided not to point it out. Alfred looked over at him. “I’m surprised you even went to Starbucks this early. Isn’t your first class at 11 AM?”

“...Well, yes,” Matthew replied, lips suddenly becoming dry.

Alfred stared at him, giving him a good look up and down, before it clicked in his mind. “You went to see that cute bartender you like!”

“No, I went to be a nice brother and wake you up with one of your favorite Starbucks orders. Nothing more to it,” Matthew said, coolly brushing off the allegation.

“Uh-huh…” Alfred said, not convinced at all. He took another long sip, narrowing his eyes at Matthew. Matthew narrowed his eyes back, and the two entered a small staring contest while silently arguing with a shared look. Eventually, Alfred gave up and rolled his eyes, taking a final sip of his drink and smacking his lips quite obnoxiously. “Fine! Whatever. I’ll choose to believe you. Also, why’d you get me such a small size? I already finished the drink; now I have to go back after class.”

“I didn’t get you a small size! You’re just a pig when it comes to sweets,” Matthew retorted, his eye lightly twitching.

“Whatever! I don’t have time for this childish banter; it’s beneath me,” Alfred said, all of a sudden, trying to act morally superior. “You’re accompanying me to Starbucks after my class. Let’s meet at 10:50, okay? Maybe you can finally get the number of that guy you like.”

“I do not like him!” Matthew hissed, turning bright red.

Alfred burst out into laughter at Matthew’s reaction, cackling his way out the door. “Whatever you say, dude!”

The door slammed shut as Alfred walked out, and Matthew was left to stare at where he once was.

***

The time was 10:47 AM, and Alfred was currently talking Matthew’s ear off about his totally-not-crush in his physics lecture.

“He’s so annoying, Mattie! I walk into class late, right? I sat on the opposite side of the room from him. And as soon as I sit down, he moves his seat just to sit right next to me and stare at me the whole lecture. Like, what the fuck is his issue?” Alfred complained, animatedly throwing his hands up in frustration.

Matthew glanced to the side, trying to sympathize with Alfred’s poor love life, but he couldn’t bring himself to care in the slightest. “Right. You don’t have a crush on the hot, Russian guy who gives you all of the attention in the world, and grass is blue.”

“And you don’t have a crush on the bartender from Starbucks. Glad we got that sorted out!” Alfred rebutted.

Matthew flushed red again and nudged Alfred’s with his elbow. This caused his twin to laugh loudly, his voice ringing throughout the open air.

Alfred was always much louder than he was. He was outgoing, easy to talk to; he had many friends in high school, being the president of the student council and captain of the football team. He always had the spotlight, always had the attention of others; he was the one girls confessed to or had an interest in. Matthew was used to watching from the sidelines, but he couldn’t help but get jealous sometimes.

He wanted to be more like his brother. He wanted to be able to get others’ attention.

He wanted to be able to get that barista’s attention.

Matthew brought a hand to his blushing cheek, trying to regain focus.

Alfred looked over at him, curious about his behavior, and smirked at him. “You’re thinking about him, aren’t you? I can totally tell, dude, because your face gets super red! It’s hilarious!”

“Alfred, shut up!” Matthew whined, two seconds away from kicking him in the shins.

Once again, Alfred laughed obnoxiously loud, his chest puffing out as he did. His loud laughter seemed to attract some people who were nearby. Looking over, he saw his two friends walking over: Francis Bonnefoy and Arthur Kirkland.

Francis was kind of a weird guy. He was French and flirty, but now, thinking about it, those two words were practically synonyms. Matthew never minded Francis’ strange behavior. He had been living with Alfred for eighteen years of his miserable life; he was used to being surrounded by strange people. Francis was a sophomore attending college for interior design, and the two met at the shared art club they both attended. They were the only two people in the club who spoke French and became friends pretty quickly. Not to mention, Francis’s flirtatious behavior had never been aimed at Matthew, which he could greatly appreciate. He wasn’t sure if he could stand a French guy flirting with him; that would make him have to drop out and move somewhere far away in Canada.

His other friend was Arthur Kirkland. Arthur was first Alfred’s friend and is closer to him than he is to Matthew, but Matthew would still consider Arthur a good friend. The two liked to read together and meet up every few weeks to talk about whatever book they were currently interested in. Arthur seemed to be sensible only around Matthew, since he tended to get hotheaded and annoyed around Francis or Alfred. It was funny when he yelled, but Matthew did his best not to aggravate him on purpose. He also had super, weird, bushy eyebrows, but Matthew was nice enough to keep his mouth shut.

Also, small secret, which may or may not be a secret: Arthur Kirkland and Francis Bonnefoy were madly in love. They just didn’t know it yet!

Francis waved his hand dramatically, looking over at the twins with a wide smile. “Matthieu, Alfred, bonjour! Arthur and I were heading to Starbucks. Care to join us?”

At this, Matthew’s stomach fluttered, and he piped up with a little too much excitement. “Yes!” Noticing his own eagerness, Matthew blushed, clearing his throat to cover up his embarrassment, and he gave his friends a soft smile. “I mean, yeah, I’d like to join you guys. Alfred and I were heading over there already, so we might as well all go together.”

Alfred snorted, rubbing his nose. “You just want to see that bartender with the silver hair.”

“He’s cute, okay!” Matthew whined, not restricting himself this time and kicking Alfred in the shins. Alfred winced, jumping away and rubbing the spot Matthew had kicked. His smirk disappeared pretty quickly after that.

Francis was looking between the two twins, gears turning in his head, before a thought finally formed. He got closer to Matthew and placed a hand to his own cheek in thought. “Gilbert? You like Gilbert?”

Matthew slightly backed up to widen the distance of personal space between the two. His face turned pink, and he could literally feel the heat radiating off of him. “Um, I don’t know his name. But if that’s the guy with the silver hair and red eyes, then I think he’s kind of cute…”

“Kind of? Mattie, you drool over him every time you see him!” Alfred countered, laughing loudly again. Matthew’s eye twitched as Alfred’s laughter rang in his head, teasing him for his stupid crush. Frustratedly, he clamped a hand over Alfred’s mouth to shut him up. Then, like the disgusting person Alfred was, he licked him, causing Matthew to shriek in disgust and wipe his spit-covered hand on Alfred’s shoulder.

With all of the patience in the world not to resort to beating Alfred senseless, he switched his tongue to French, “Alfred’s being so annoying! Ugh, but yes, I have a huge crush on him. Do you know him? Can you set us up?”

“C’mon, no fair! You know I don’t understand French,” Alfred whined, tugging on Matthew’s sleeve. Matthew opted to ignore him. Attention was what the little pest wanted, so all he had to do was act like Alfred wasn’t there, and then he would stop acting out.

Matthew vaguely remembers learning French when he was younger. His mother was from Quebec, Canada, and grew up speaking French. When she married and had her two children, Matthew and Alfred, she tried to teach them both French. However, Alfred could never sit still for two seconds in order to learn the language, which resulted in Matthew being fluent in French while Alfred only knew a word or two.

“Yes, he is my friend from high school, but I don’t think he’d be good for you,” Francis said earnestly.

“You’re not my dad; no need to protect me. I can handle my heart,” Matthew retorted, slightly annoyed at the comment. He knew Francis meant well. The two sort of adopted an older-brother and younger-brother relationship, with Matthew going to Francis often for advice on college or relationships. However, that didn’t mean Francis got to dictate who Matthew went out with or not. He was eighteen! He could make his own decisions just fine.

Matthew looked over at Arthur to see if he had anything to contribute. He knew Arthur was fluent in French. Once in a conversation, Arthur had mentioned a brief period in his life when he used to live in France; thus, he learned the language to get by. He described it as his ‘dark years’. But Matthew was 99% sure he was just being dramatic. He was hoping Arthur would tell Francis off for his comment, especially since berating Francis was one of his favorite hobbies. However, when Matthew looked to him for backup, all the Englishman did was shrug, causing Matthew to turn away with a sour look on his face.

“Well, if that’s what you want. Now, come on, let’s go,” Francis said, switching back to English and waving his hand dismissively.

Matthew and Francis walked alongside each other while Alfred and Arthur argued about something stupid in the background. Matthew could tell Francis was saying something to him, but the younger was too distracted to fully listen.

Was it weird for him to go back to Starbucks just to see a guy he’s never talked to, spared from the usual customer service? He couldn’t help but shake the feeling that what he was doing was weird or creepy- all over some stupid crush! He wished he were more confident, like Francis or Alfred, so that he would be able to speak his mind and his feelings whenever he pleased.

They entered the Starbucks, and, shockingly, the building was empty with no customers. Usually, especially around 11 AM, there was a buzz of customers ordering their late-morning coffee for the rest of the day. Matthew figured he got lucky, as fewer customers meant there was a chance he would be able to interact with the bartender outside of just ordering.

The silver-haired bartender, or Gilbert (as informed by Francis), called out to the group entering. His greeting was more directed to Francis, as he waved him over and yelled out, “Francis, hey! What’s up, brohaus?”

Francis strided over to the counter, flipping his blonde curls dramatically and resting an elbow on the surface. He smiled teasingly at Gilbert, “Hmm, can I have a grande pumpkin spice latte with a side of you?”

Gilbert rolled his eyes but couldn’t hold back his amused smile. He stepped away from Francis, pretending to be offended. “Stop it before I report you for sexual harassment.”

The other worker in the room, a girl with long, flowing brunette hair that was adorned with a flower and bright, green eyes, bounced over to be included in the conversation. Her cheeks were flushed red, and she had an excited smile on her face as she asked, “Gilbert! Is this your boyfriend?”

Looking extremely disgusted, Gilbert and Francis shouted, “No!” at the same time and backed away from each other as if they had been shocked. Their behavior caused the girl (Elizabeta, as her nametag read) to giggle and walk away.

“And she knows I’m single too, jerk,” Gilbert muttered before refocusing his attention on the next person to order their drink, which was Arthur.

Matthew couldn’t help but feel warm at that information. Sure, maybe it was a given to already assume that Gilbert was single, as Francis would’ve already told him if he was taken, but it was nice to hear it directly from the source.

Now, Matthew wasn’t an expert at flirting. Actually, he wasn’t good at it at all. He had a boyfriend before, back in high school, but his ex-boyfriend was bold and outgoing. He was the one to pursue Matthew and make all of the moves. So, having to be the one to shoot his shot and attempt to get to know someone better was completely foreign to Matthew.

Pushing his nervous thoughts aside, Matthew approached the counter after Arthur was finished ordering. He looked at Gilbert, who was greeting him, but all Matthew could focus on was how red his eyes were. He never really noticed before, but they were a beautiful, enchanting shade of ruby red.

Gilbert blinked, snapping Matthew away from his distracting thoughts and trying to refocus. The barista laughed nervously. “Are you going to order like you did earlier? Or keep staring?”

“Like I did earlier?” Matthew echoes, shyly playing with the front of his hair and moving it out of his face.

Gilbert nods, eyebrows knitting together as he tries to recall previous information. “Yeah, didn’t I see you this morning? A tall caramel frappuccino, for Matthew?”

The blonde nods, surprised that Gilbert had even remembered that information. He saw how busy the Starbucks would get during the day. He was shocked that Gilbert didn’t immediately discard his name and order from his memory after taking his order.

“I thought so! The awesome me is never wrong.” Gilbert grins, and he looks oddly proud of himself. His confidence is practically radiating off of him.

Matthew tilts his head curiously, voice as soft as ever, “I’m surprised you even noticed. What, were you looking out for me?”

At this, Gilbert seems to falter. He turns red, and his nervous laughter amps up. He waves his hand dismissively, almost frantically, and no longer seems to be able to meet Matthew’s eyes. “It’s not that! It’s just– I don’t know. I think you’re very…. Noticeable? Because of your look… It’s nice. But anyway– what can I get you today?”

Gilbert is still nervously laughing, but it’s hardly audible over the ringing in Matthew’s ears. Did that seriously just happen?

“I’ll take a grande salted maple oatmilk iced shaken espresso…” Matthew is somehow able to spit out, despite the fact that he can barely process the situation he was in.

Gilbert, his face burning red and his smile seeming stiff, nodded and punched in his order. He messily read aloud his total and disappeared to get started on the drink. His brunette coworker, Elizabeta, had returned and taken over the register. Not having seen the whole interaction, since she had previously been working on the drinks, she looked up, confused when Matthew hadn’t moved out of the way to let others order. She waved him along with her hand, and dazedly, Matthew stood off to the side to allow Alfred to place his own order.

Matthew glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone had just witnessed that interaction. He saw Francis and Arthur laughing at him, and Matthew turned red and looked away, embarrassed.

How did that just happen?

Gilbert called him… noticeable? His look was nice?

Was it a possibility that Gilbert could be interested in talking more? Like on a date, potentially?

The thought of it made Matthew want to melt into a puddle, and he buried his blushing face into his hands.

He just wanted his drink.

***

Later, Matthew found himself sitting on Arthur’s bed, quietly listening to Alfred and Arthur discuss something. He wasn’t sure what; his mind was elsewhere.

He still couldn’t process what had happened earlier. Was that flirting? Or did he just come across as so off-putting that Gilbert got nervous and backed away? He called him noticeable. Did that mean he looked so weird that he stood out? No! But he called his look nice. Whatever that meant.

It was all going to give Matthew a headache!

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door, and Arthur moved to answer it. With Alfred no longer being able to pick on Arthur, he moved next to Matthew, sitting almost uncomfortably close to him. This wasn’t unusual behavior for Alfred, as he tended to be a clingy person with the ones he was close with, but Matthew could tell by his twin’s body language that something was off.

At the door was Francis, grinning widely at Arthur once the door opened. “Ma chérie!”

“Frog,” Arthur spat, eyebrows furrowed in faux annoyance. He moved aside, allowing Francis to come in.

“Yo! Wassup Franny?” Alfred threw up a shaka sign while flashing an American smile at the Frenchman. Matthew waved politely.

“Bonjour! I actually only came here to invite Arthur to a hangout my friend Gilbert is having later this evening. You know, the barista from Starbucks that Matthieu likes,” Francis said. He then turned his attention to Arthur, reaching out to grab his hand. “Will you come with me, Angleterre?”

Arthur shot him a nasty look.

“Hey, I wanna go too!” Alfred shot up, waving his hands around like an excited child. He then nudged Matthew, poking him in his ribcage, where he was a bit ticklish. “And I’m sure Mattie’s dying to see your friend again.”

Matthew twisted away from Alfred’s touch and turned bright red. “Alfred!”

“It’s an open invite, so you guys can come if you’d like,” Francis said, turning over to where Alfred and Matthew were sitting. By the tone of his voice, it was clear the invitation to them was an afterthought. Actually, Matthew would be surprised if there were anything going on in Francis’s brain that was related to anything outside of Arthur. Francis turns his attention to Arthur, who’s looking at him a bit nervously, but Matthew can’t pick out why. “Will you come with me? Maybe we’ll have such a good time you’ll consider going back to my bed with me after the event’s over.”

What the fuck did he just hear?

Matthew, highly disgusted from being subjected to hearing Francis dirty talk in French, shakily spoke up, “U-Um, Francis. Y-You do know that–”

“You know I don’t understand what you’re saying, blood twat!” Arthur interrupted, gritting his teeth as he spoke. His face was completely red, and he couldn’t seem to look Francis in the eye. He was a bad liar, Matthew noted, but he decided not to think much of it. Whatever, those two were weird like that, it was probably some new way of flirting-but-not-flirting that they invented.

Francis laughed very Frenchly and tossed his hair. “All I said was, will you do the honor of going with me?”

“Sure, whatever, I’ll be there,” Arthur responded, crossing his arms.

“Great! Wear your tightest pants, will you?” Francis practically purred, leaning over to kiss Arthur on the cheek. Arthur screamed in a way Matthew had never heard before, and the Englishman tried to pry himself out of Francis’s arms. Matthew looked at Alfred, who was wearing the same shocked expression on his face at the noise of pure disgust that left Arthur’s throat. He sounded like a cat who got their tail stepped on. Francis scoffed at Arthur, pushing him away. “All I said was to wear something nice!”

“Don’t put your bloody lips where they don’t belong!” Arthur yelled, wiping away at the spot where Francis’s lips had made contact.

The two dissolved into an argument, mostly with Arthur yelling at Francis, and Francis laughing at his enraged reactions and brushing them off as ‘cute’. Matthew could see Alfred in his peripheral vision, laughing at the two arguing, as the arguments were almost straight out of a cartoon.

Matthew, on the other hand, sat on the bed in deep thought, wondering what was going on between Arthur and Francis that Arthur would lie about his ability to speak French.

Not to mention, his silly crush on Gilbert, that barista, was still plaguing his mind!

It was all too much.

He was going to vomit.

Distantly, he could feel Alfred shaking his shoulder. “Dude. Dude? Mattie, what’s up with you?”

Matthew snapped back to reality, looking over at his twin with a soft smile. “I’m fine, sorry. Just dozed off a bit.”

Alfred stared at him, narrowing his blue eyes. Despite them being almost identical twins, their eyes were the only thing that separated them. Alfred’s were blue while Matthew’s were violet. Matthew stared back, eyes wide, and the two telepathically communicated with just their eye movement. It was clear Alfred didn’t believe his bluff.

Francis and Arthur take a break from their own bickering to watch Matthew and Alfred argue with their eyes.

Alfred then let out a triumphant gasp. “Oh, it’s about that guy you like! That’s what's bothering you, isn’t it?”

“I did notice you two flirting earlier. That’s what it was, right?” Arthur butted in, now invested in the conversation. Francis’s hands were on Arthur’s waist, but the Englishman didn’t seem to mind the contact. “You had that man bloody flustered, didn’t know someone could even get that red.”

“We weren’t flirting,” Matthew says sheepishly, looking away from the group. “I think he just said something that embarrassed him, and that’s why he got flustered. It had nothing to do with me.”

“What if you made him so nervous, and that’s why he was all flustered?” Arthur said, his finger pointed to his lip in thought. “You are very good-looking, you know?”

Matthew blushed at this, covering his face embarrassedly.

Alfred wraps an arm around Matthew’s shoulder, nudging into him. “Yeah! We’re basically identical twins. So, if I’m good-looking, that means you’re good-looking too!”

“I just don’t know how to talk to him… I don’t know how to put myself out there; he probably won’t notice me again,” Matthew sighs, bringing his knees to his chest.

Francis, who had been unusually quiet, especially about the topic of romance, approached Matthew. He ran a hand through the younger man’s curls; they had similar hair textures, and Matthew looked up at him. Francis was looking at him strangely; it wasn’t quite pity, but it was something close to it. “Matthieu, you’re more special than you think. Just be yourself, mon cher, and he’ll like you the way you are. I’ve known Gilbert since high school, and by the way he was acting earlier, I can tell he’s already interested in you.”

“You think so?” Matthew asks, voice quiet, like he can barely believe what he’s hearing.

Francis nods, pulling Matthew into a hug. Matthew rests his head on Francis’s chest, allowing the touch. It was nice and comforting and warm.

Alfred, who apparently can’t handle attention not being on him for more than five minutes, joins their hug. Francis laughs and lets him in, wrapping his arms around both of the twins, while Matthew leans his head against Alfred’s shoulder. The American looks over at Arthur, who’s watching uncomfortably off to the side. “Artie! Get your buttocks in here!”

“No, I think I’m alright.” Arthur backs away slowly.

“C’mon, mon lapin, you know you want in on this,” Francis says, reaching out to pull Arthur into their group hug.

Arthur groans, but allows himself to be hugged anyway. Alfred is grinning as wide as he can, Francis laughs at Arthur’s scrunched-up face, and Matthew is smiling, a warm, fuzzy feeling spreading in his chest.

And though he’s only known Francis and Arthur for a little over a semester, he feels like he’s known them forever.

They feel like family.

***

Alfred was supposed to be the one driving him and Matthew to Francis’s friend’s party.

Keyword: Supposed.

Currently, Alfred was sitting in the driver’s seat, looking for somewhere to park. One hand was on the wheel, and the other served to continuously punch Matthew in the shoulder. “Are you excited? Are you gonna get some? Are you gonna totally wow him, and you two are gonna make out like–” Alfred lets go of the wheel to hug himself, making gross, sloppy, kissing noises, “Oh! Gilbert! I love you so so much!”

Matthew jumps across Alfred to take the wheel, doing his best to navigate without crashing into anything. “Alfred! Shut up and drive– what are you doing?!”

“Oh! Gilbert! Let’s run away and get married!” Alfred uses a high-pitched voice to mock Matthew, and he’s still pretending to make out with the air.

Matthew lets out a frustrated sort of scream as he begins hitting Alfred, beating his shoulder relentlessly. “Alfred! Look at the fucking road! What the fuck are you fucking doing?!”

Alfred slams forward, grasping the wheel and jerking sharply into a parking spot. He’s wheezing as he parallel parks. “Jeez, Mattie. Where did you learn to curse like that?”

“From you!” Matthew shouts, pinching his nose bridge. He’s very obviously annoyed, but he pushes it down for the sake of having a good night.

Alfred finishes parking and hops out of the car, swinging his keys around. “Let’s go party it up!”

Matthew couldn’t be bothered to respond. He ran through possibility after possibility in his brain, thinking of every outcome that could potentially happen tonight.

His distraught state must’ve been noticeable, as Alfred looks over at him and raises his eyebrows. “Mattie? Are you still fretting about talking to him?”

At first, Matthew can’t bring himself to respond. But, slowly, he nods his head.

Alfred sighs, clicking his tongue and wrapping an arm around his twin’s shoulders. “Tsk tsk. You’ve got to stop worrying about that sort of stuff. I’m sure he’ll like you plenty. And if he doesn’t? Then he’s an idiot, and you’ll always have me, dude.”

Matthew turns to look at Alfred, his violet eyes watery, and a grin on his face. “Aww, Alfie…”

“Eww! Okay, never mind, forget I said anything.” Alfred pushes Matthew away as the other tries to hug him. “Mattie, stop– stop! I’m leaving you, okay, bye forever.”

Alfred runs away and makes it to the door, knocking frantically to be let in. Matthew tows behind him, arms still stretched out as he’s making grabby motions with his hands. Luckily for Alfred, the door is answered before Matthew has the chance to tackle him in a hug.

It’s Kiku standing at the door, in a shirt that reads ‘I Paused My Anime to be Here’, and his face is emotionless. Kiku was a friend Alfred made in his math class, as the two bonded over nerdy interests such as anime and Japanese fighting games. “Alfred, hello, it’s nice to see you. And… um… Forgive me, I can’t recall your name.”

He looks at Matthew, embarrassed. Matthew is only slightly annoyed, but he doesn’t let it show. “I’m Matthew.”

Kiku nods haphazardly. Matthew has a feeling he won’t commit it to memory.

The two enter the apartment and glance around. Alfred immediately goes off with Kiku as they take their space on the couch and begin scrolling through movies on the television. Matthew noticed Gilbert sitting next to his coworker from before, Elizabeta, and next to an Italian boy with dark brown hair and a fiery temper.

Gilbert is laughing, fixated on what the boy is telling him, and he’s smiling so widely that it should almost be unfair to look that happy. The brunette boy next to him is blushing furiously, punching Gilbert in the shoulder, and spewing out insults so quickly that they’re almost unintelligible.

It’s a familiar pain, Matthew realizes.

No one had noticed that he was even there.

Matthew sits on the edge of the couch and keeps to himself, quietly watching everyone else interact. He picks up on a few names. The boy Gilbert is excessively chatting with is named Lovino, and his cursing seems to be nothing out of the ordinary, as no one bats an eye at his language. His younger brother is Feliciano, who seemed to be in a relationship with Gilbert’s younger brother, Ludwig. The two Italians were friendly with another brunette sitting near them, Antonio, who seemed to be Spanish. At least, that’s what Matthew could only assume.

About ten minutes later, Francis and Arthur show up together.

They’re holding hands.

Matthew doesn’t think they even notice it.

Antonio and Gilbert happily greet both Francis and Arthur, who finally let go of each other and sit next to their friends. Matthew can’t help but bitterly wish that someone had greeted him when he walked in. Even a small wave or nod would’ve been nice.

He was always invisible, somehow a background character in his own life. He tried not to let it bother him, but in moments like this, when he wanted nothing more than to just be noticed, it really stung.

Matthew gets up and leaves the living room, looking for the bathroom or somewhere to hide. He’s certain no one will notice if he leaves.

Walking down the halls of the small apartment, he opens a random door.

It’s a bedroom, not a bathroom. A part of Matthew tells him he should just walk out and open another door for the bathroom, but another part of him is curious about what the bedroom looks like.

So, he wanders in, scanning the information available to him. There’s a bass in the corner, clothes randomly thrown in places, but it’s not so much that it’s gross. The walls are a dark gray and covered in posters of different movies and bands. Most of them are German, Matthew notes, as he can’t read the content of most of the posters.

There are photos on the dresser next to the bed. Matthew leans to look at them.

It’s a picture of Gilbert when he was younger, holding baby Ludwig. Gilbert's eyes are shining with pride, and he’s holding his baby brother close; his smile is missing a few teeth. There are more photos of Gilbert when he was younger. Another one contained a younger Gilbert, maybe late elementary, playing with a young Lovino. The two are playing in mud, well, more like Gilbert was covered in mud, and he was trying to get some on Lovino, who seemed to be backing away from him.

The photos are undeniably sweet. Matthew thinks that–

“What’cha doing in my room, stranger?”

Matthew whips his head around, staring at Gilbert, who was leaning in the door frame. His face turns bright red as he backs away from the photos, his voice coming out weirdly high-pitched. “I’m so sorry! I don’t mean to snoop! I was just looking for your bathroom, and I accidentally came in here and—”

“Whoa. I’m just messing with you; it’s chill,” Gilbert says, walking into his room and sitting on his bed. He pats the spot next to him, and Matthew sits beside him. “My room is awesome, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s cool,” Matthew spits out, awkwardly laughing to punctuate his sentence. Awkward. Everything about him was awkward. He didn’t even know his palms could produce this much sweat. He was going to kill himself. He can’t help but ask, “That brunette boy, Lovino, I think? You’ve known him for a while?”

Gilbert nods. “He’s my childhood best friend, pretty weird guy, but I still love him.”

“Love,” Matthew echoes.

At this, Gilbert blushes red. “Well, not like that. He’s not… the kind of guy I’m into.”

Matthew looks at Gilbert expectantly. “The kind of guy you’re into?”

“Yeah, my type is a bit different than that,” Gilbert says, stretching his arms out. He lies down on his bed, vibrant red eyes making contact with Matthew’s violet ones. “Blonde, soft-spoken, wavy hair. You know? Boys like that.”

Matthew lies next to him and doesn’t realize how close their faces are until he turns his head to face him, only to be met with a few centimeters distancing them. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Gilbert is looking at him intensely, and Matthew can’t help but wonder if he’s dreaming. “And you?”

“Me?”

“The kind of person you like.” Matthew doesn’t miss how Gilbert glances at his lips, then back at his eyes.

Matthew scoots closer, if possible, and the two are staring at each other as the blonde is about to reply.

Before he can utter a word, the door swings open. Francis is standing in the doorframe, looking a bit dazed, but his eyebrows raise at the scene in front of him.”You guys can’t wait until everyone leaves first?”

“We weren’t going to do anything like that!” Gilbert protests, getting up from the bed and making his way to Francis. He pushes him, the two stumbling out of the room, and leaving Matthew alone.

He can very faintly hear the two argue through the closed door. He doesn’t pay too much attention to it. He can tell the two are talking about him, but he can’t make out the words.

The click of the door opening causes Matthew to look over, and Gilbert is there, his face flushed and seeming embarrassed. Matthew can’t help but wonder what Francis had possibly said to him.

Gilbert flops onto his bed, lying on his stomach, and he’s looking up at Matthew. “Sorry about that. I didn’t even know Francis could be overprotective like that. It’s sweet how he worries about you.”

Matthew hums, a little saddened. He knew his friends cared about him, but sometimes he still felt alone. Francis and Arthur were nice, but they were always so absorbed in each other, and Alfred had tons of other friends, while Matthew just had Alfred. Gilbert seems to notice his reaction and slightly nudges him. “Did I say something wrong, Matthew?”

The way his voice sounds with his accent makes butterflies swarm in the blonde’s stomach. Matthew lets out a soft sigh. “No, you didn’t. It’s just– I know my friends care for me, but a lot of the time I feel like an afterthought to anyone. Even when I walked in today, no one noticed me, no one said ‘hi’ or even turned in my direction. It’s like I wasn’t even there.” Matthew brings his knees to his chest as he talks. He then realizes he’s sort of bringing the mood down, so he blushes and turns to Gilbert, waving his hands frantically. “But it’s fine! It’s something I’m used to, so it doesn’t really bother me.”

Gilbert shifts, sitting up to face Matthew, covering his own face, which seems to be turning redder by the minute. “I– Um. I notice you all the time. I think… you’re really… pretty. And when you walked in today, my friend, Lovino, was making fun of me because I couldn’t muster up the courage to go talk to you. But screw him, because now here I am alone with you, in my bed,” he stops himself from talking, letting out a weird cough. “Not like that.”

Matthew giggles at Gilbert’s phrasing, and he tilts his head, eyeing the boy up and down. “It’s true, though, isn’t it?”

“It’s true?” Gilbert’s brain seems to short-circuit as the blonde scoots closer to him, placing a hand on top of his.

“We’re alone now; that’s what matters, right? Even if we’re both awkward about it?” Matthew says, a sudden wave of boldness running through him.

Their hands intertwine as they inch closer and closer to each other. Matthew has no idea what is happening right now, how he’s alone with Gilbert in his bedroom, and how they’re about to kiss despite talking for maybe twenty minutes, but he’s not complaining. If this is what it means to be bold and put himself out there, then he would do whatever it takes. Plus, there was never any harm in kissing for the fun of it!

It didn’t truly matter, though. Whatever they were about to do, because it got interrupted. Again. A loud bang on the door, and it flew open, revealing a drunk, incoherent Alfred whose entire face was red. “Mattie, are you hoeing yourself out in here?!”

“Alfred?!” Matthew shot up, almost falling off the bed to get away from Gilbert, who seemed flustered from being walked in on, again. “What are you doing? Get out!”

Alfred hiccuped, throwing himself on top of Matthew and wrapping his arms around him in some sort of bear hug. He started whining, his breath reeking of alcohol. Matthew’s nose wrinkled in disgust as he tried to push Alfred off of him, but his twin was a dead weight from being tipsy. “You can’t date! I take back everything I said earlier; you’re too young to date! You gotta wait 'til you’re thirty or forty! Maybe even fifty…”

Alfred F. Williams-Jones. His twin brother who he loved dearly. His twin brother, who was always in the limelight; he got attention so easily from the world, like he was the Earth and the Sun revolved around him. Matthew felt like the moon, which only got to shine off of a backhanded ray of light from the sun. Nothing ever purposefully shone on him, and no one ever showed him attention.

Yet Gilbert was letting him bask in it.

And Alfred, the little attention-seeking, annoying, joy-sucking bitch, was taking this opportunity away from him.

Matthew’s eyebrow twitched as Alfred held him tighter, still drunkenly shouting about how Gilbert was bad for him and how he should refrain from dating. He could see other people standing in the doorway, intrigued by the commotion happening. Kiku had his digital camera recording, Antonio was peering curiously, Ludwig was pinching his nose bridge, Feliciano was hiding behind Ludwig, and Lovino had his arms crossed, seemingly annoyed by the shouting.

Suddenly, Matthew snapped, letting out a strange, frustrated yell as he shoved Alfred off of him with full force. “Alfred, get off of me! I’m so sick and tired of your– your bullshit! That’s what it is; it’s fucking bullshit. It’s always some stupid bullshit with you. You’re so incredibly annoying that it’s almost fascinating. You’ve gotten anything you’ve ever wanted and more since you were born; everyone caters to you, everyone pays attention to you, everyone likes you. Yet the moment I get someone’s attention, me and me only, of course, your fat fucking self has to come in and ruin it.”

Alfred was staring at him in shock, as if the yelling sobered him up. Matthew was aware of everyone else in the room getting deadly silent and watching the two, but he didn’t care. This had been bubbling in him for way too long, and he couldn’t stop the words from flowing out of his mouth: “Are you not spoiled from attention enough? Are the constant parties and hangouts you’re invited to not enough for you? I understand that you’re fucked up in the head and have delusions of being a hero, and I’m your sidekick, but surely you’re smart enough to know that this is real life, and I’m my own person outside of you? Is your stupidity just an act, or are you seriously like that? Because I’ve been giving you the benefit of the doubt and playing it off as a joke, but maybe you’re genuinely just fucking stupid.”

Matthew was going to take a deep breath in and attempt to calm down, but Alfred was still staring at him with that stupid look on his face, and it angered Matthew all over again. “So, for once in my life, let me have this. Let me have this one thing. Can I have this one thing? Actually, why are you still in here? Get out– Alfred, get out! Get the fuck out! Did you not hear me the first one billion times? Stop staring at me and get the fuck out of here! What are you–”

In the blink of an eye, Alfred was on top of Matthew, grabbing his shoulders wildly with his eyes squeezed shut. Matthew’s breath hitched in his throat as he attempted to kick Alfred off of him, but he could vaguely make out drunken babbling on Alfred’s part as the boy pinned him down. “That was– That was so mean! Why would you–?”

Alfred opened his eyes, tears spilling out of them, and hiccupped as he cried. He took a quick break to rub at his tears and continued pinning Matthew beneath him, pressing against his body quite harshly.

He didn’t end up doing much damage, as Kiku had dropped his camera and was attempting to pull Alfred off of his twin. However, Kiku was significantly shorter and smaller than Alfred, so his attempts were futile. Ludwig stepped in to help, pulling a drunk, sobbing Alfred off of Matthew and dragging him out of the room. Gilbert sat up, lifting Matthew up from the mattress, and helping him sit while rubbing his back. Feliciano hummed, seeming a bit disappointed. “Aww, I kind of wanted to see them fight…”

“It’s okay, Feli. Next time,” Antonio said, patting Feliciano on the head. (What did next time even mean…?)

The crowd then dispersed, leaving Gilbert and Matthew alone again.

Matthew was holding a hand over his own neck, delicately touching where Alfred had been choking him. Gilbert was looking over at him, concern in his bright red eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Matthew mutters. He then turns pink, looking at Gilbert embarrassedly. “Oh maple, I’m so sorry you had to see that! We normally don’t fight like that. We usually don’t fight at all. I’m seriously so sorry you witnessed that…”

“It’s okay; I’m glad you’re okay,” Gilbert hummed, leaning against Matthew softly. He grinned at him slyly. “And you know? Seeing you pissed off and yelling like that, it was pretty hot. You were awesome, Matthew.”

Matthew blushed. “Really? You thought me losing my temper on my brother was… hot?”

“I thought you were just pretty docile and laid back, which I already thought made you super cute. But seeing that side of you? Seems like you’re full of awesome surprises,” Gilbert says. He then gets quiet and clears his throat, “And, you know. I’d really like to get to know you more. As I said, you’re super cute and awesome. And I’m super cool and awesome. So, it’d be totally awesome if you let me take you out one night. Like… a... date…”

Gilbert is bright red at the end of his sentence, and he’s slightly covering his burning face. Matthew looks at him with wide eyes and reddened cheeks of his own. “Yeah! That’d be awesome.”

“Awesome.”

The two laugh, and the atmosphere is awkward, but it’s a nice type of awkward. One that forms only when you really like someone. And Matthew was sure that he really liked Gilbert.

“I should probably get going, though. And deal with… my brother,” Matthew says, grimacing as he does. Gilbert nods in understanding, as he was also an older brother. Sibling fights were nothing new to him. Matthew turns to Gilbert again, still a bit shy. “Did you want my number, maybe?”

“Yeah! Yes, so we can plan out our totally awesome date.” Gilbert hands his phone over to Matthew, and the blonde shakily types his number in. He’s still not entirely sure this isn’t a fever dream, and he’s genuinely giving his number to the boy he’s found cute for a few months, but if he’s dreaming, he doesn’t want to risk the chances of waking up.

They wave goodbye to each other, and Matthew is smiling on his way out, unable to keep his stomach from fluttering and his face from burning up.

And then he steps into the living room, and all his good feelings fizzle out.

Alfred is slumped over on the couch, half-asleep, and Kiku is awkwardly patting his back. Everyone else is sitting on the opposite side of the couch from him, still drinking and pretending like he isn’t there. Matthew can feel the embarrassment pooling in his stomach, and he rushes over to where his brother is lying. “Alfred. Wake up; we’re leaving.”

“Five more minutes,” Alfred groans out, refusing to turn over and look at his twin.

The face of annoyance Matthew makes is indescribable.

He yanks Alfred’s ear, tugging it harshly. Alfred yelps, sitting up and looking at Matthew, teary-eyed. A small part of Matthew feels bad, but then he looks at Alfred’s stupid face, and any part of empathy he may have had for his brother disappears. He takes Alfred’s wrist, tugging him along, and says a short goodbye and apology to the group before leaving.

Their walk to the car is silent. Alfred is pouting, blinking the tears out of his eyes, and Matthew can’t bring himself to say anything. Alfred is still drunk, so Matthew is the one driving this time. He intends to drive straight back to their dorms, in complete silence, and sleep off his anger until one of the two of them apologizes.

Although it was true that the two of them normally didn’t fight, Matthew was the type of guy to keep his grievances to himself in order to avoid conflict; the fact that they did argue was nothing new. Usually, when this sort of thing happened, one of them would fold within the next few hours, or even the next day. Then, it would be like nothing happened, and the two would be alright again.

Speaking of.

Alfred was sniffling in the passenger's seat, arms crossed with a childish pout on his face. Matthew rolls his eyes internally, or, he might’ve actually done that. He didn’t mean to, really; it just sort of slipped out.

“...Are you mad at me?”

Alfred’s voice comes out so impossibly small that it almost makes Matthew take his eyes off the road to look over in shock. It’s out of character for his brother, very much known for being loud and outgoing, to mumble so quietly as Matthew tended to. If Matthew were any more delirious than he already was, he would’ve thought he just hallucinated Alfred saying that.

Matthew sighs, “Well, yeah, I guess I am.”

“‘M sorry… I didn’t mean to ruin your guys’ date,” Alfred says. He sounds like he’s nodding off, close to succumbing to slumber. Him being so tired and tipsy gave Matthew the belief that his brother was being truly honest at the moment in such a vulnerable state.

“It wasn’t a date; we were just talking,” Matthew countered, focusing on the road ahead of him.

“Just talking… alone… on his bed,” Alfred snorts at that, drunkenly giggling to himself. He then stops, his giggles fading, and the awkward silence returns. He gnaws at his lip as he asks, almost embarrassedly, “Did you mean everything you said?”

“What?”

“About me being annoying and an attention-seeker and stuff.” Alfred sounds like he’s about to cry again. He sniffles, exhaling a shaky breath as he collects his thoughts and continues speaking, “I mean, yeah, I talk to a lot of people. But most of those people don’t actually like me. They think the same: that I’m annoying and stupid, but I’m not stupid. I have to dumb myself down into some loud, blabbing idiot just to get people to like me. Or else, they’ll just leave. No one really gets me, well, no one but you. I thought at least you liked me. I’ve always considered you my best friend, Mattie.”

Matthew immediately pulls over, putting the car in park and unbuckling his seatbelt. He reaches over and hugs Alfred, almost instinctively. It takes a moment, but Alfred moves to wrap his arms around Matthew as well, and the two are wrapped in a tight embrace.

“Of course I didn’t mean it, Al. You’re my best friend too.”

Alfred’s snot and tears get all over Matthew’s shoulder, but he doesn’t seem to mind. It’s nice to hold his brother like this. He got on his nerves a lot, but Alfred was his best friend, and Matthew wouldn’t want anyone else as his twin.

Once they finish their crying, Matthew continues their drive home, and the silence is more comfortable now. Alfred was a very weird person. It was true, Alfred could be self-centered and selfish, and tend to forget about others around him. But Matthew loved him, he loved him and his flaws, because who else would be there for him when no one else was? Who else would spend hours playing video games late into the night, or sneak extra ice cream at night when it was past their bedtimes?

No one better than his twin brother, of course, his built-in best friend for life.

Alfred passes out on the way back home, like a baby who's cried itself to sleep. Matthew finds it endearing. In the midst of his thinking, Matthew gets a notification on his phone, and he glances at the text briefly.

[unknown number]

hey matthew!! Its gilbert, i had a lot of fun talking 2 u even if ur brother was a bit psycho. wanna grab dinner sometime soon? i know an awesome italian spot nearby!

Matthew couldn’t help but smile upon seeing the text.

Maybe coffee wasn’t too bad after all.