A/N: I felt bad because I had this part written (and the end) but not what was technically the rest of the chapter so I…broke it into two. Wanted to get this out on Gilbert's (and my) birthday and let y'all know I'm still alive. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 5: Ropes Have Been Unbound

Matthew awoke to the sound of harsh intakes of breath and his mates' sudden movements. He had been resting his head on Gilbert's chest, Alistair curled around his back with an arm thrown over both of them, but found himself face-planting into the mattress. The instinct to immediately comfort them warred with his abject terror that what he knew they dreamed of had scared them.

He rolled onto his back, barely fitting between them, and opened his eyes. He found them both sitting upright, chests obviously heaving under their sleep shirts and turned away from him, Gilbert running a hand through his hair and Alistair jerkily tearing off his eye mask. Trying to swallow his fear, Matthew dared to tentatively touch their backs, starting with, "Are you o—"

They both flinched at the contact.

Matthew immediately snatched his hands away, using them instead to push himself back against the headboard, trying to give them space. His soul whimpered at their reactions, his careful internal lines between the human and Veela parts of him melting away, but Matthew fell silent. He was at a loss what to do besides give them time to process and—

He was so, so scared.

I need you, he thought at them desperately. Please don't leave me.

Before he could fully draw his knees to his chest, hands stopped his progress as first Alistair then Gilbert turned to look at him. They had nearly identical expressions of astonishment and…hunger on their faces, the latter easing Matthew's fears a little. He licked his lips and tried speaking again. "Are you okay?"

Both of their expressions sharpened into something predatory and Matthew only then noticed that he was seeing clearly without his glasses. Gilbert leaned towards him until his face was nearly all that Matthew could see. He said, voice rough with sleep and something else, "Happy Birthday, Matthew."

Gilbert kissed him, lips more insistent than Matthew was expecting. He happily responded, but was confused as to what exactly was happening. They had just flinched at the lightest touch from him. Why the sudden shift in mood?

Alistair picked up his hand and said, "Let's see, tha's sixteen kisses fer tha birthday boy?" He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Matthew's inner wrist and he distantly realized it was the same place Alistair touched him that fateful day in the study room.

Gilbert pulled released Matthew's mouth to all but snarl, "Each."

Matthew couldn't help the shiver that went through him at the tone but, for all that he was relieved by their renewed closeness, he still wanted answers. "The dream—"

Gilbert claimed his mouth again, cutting him off. Alistair answered the aborted question, touch quickly moving up his arm and across his chest, "—was feckin' perfect."

Matthew shuddered at his words, groaned into Gilbert's mouth, but he still needed to hear Gilbert say that he was fine with it, that the thought of Matthew claiming them in a year wasn't alarming now that he had an idea as to that would mean. He reached for Alistair with one hand while the other pushed lightly against Gilbert's chest.

Gilbert backed away a bit at the slight pressure and Matthew blurted before Alistair could take his place, "It didn't bother you? You both flinched when I touched you…"

The sharpness in their expressions as they watched him lingered and they both smirked at him. Matthew felt his heart start to gallop frantically at the intent in their eyes, at the lust lashing through him and begging him to drop his concerns.

Alistair rather abruptly stopped touching him long enough to tear his shirt own off and throw it somewhere into the room.

"The dream was overwhelming," Gilbert started, accent thicker than usual, eyes moving obviously down Matthew's body, "so waking up was jarring. But—" he looked distinctly smug when he saw the evidence of Matthew's arousal and Alistair came to lean over him. "—I only want you more, mate."

…And that was the end of rational thought for Matthew. He felt his fangs descend suddenly and snarled to Gilbert, "Shirt. Off." Alistair was kissing him then, laughing into his mouth.

Matthew was feeling very serious at the moment and resolved to make sure his Scottish mate only had breath to moan. He threaded his hands through Alistair's hair and pulled him close, pivoting them so that he was suddenly on top, straddling his torso. He licked into Alistair's mouth, lightly grazed his fangs across his bottom lip, and smiled when Alistair gasped. He felt hands on his hips, moving up his body to displace his shirt. He straightened and pulled his shirt off in one fluid movement, hair falling around his shoulders as he brought his arms down and flung the cloth to the side.

Alistair's green eyes perused him and Matthew froze as he fought the instinctual self-conscious urge to hide himself again. He couldn't help the embarrassed blush. Sure, Gilbert and Alistair treated him the same now as they did back at Hogwarts, when he had been little more than skin and bones, but that didn't stop the sudden flood of fear that his gorgeous mate would turn from him. Yes, he had been ridiculously restless and horny the past few weeks, but that just gave him an excuse for working out more to attempt to fill out his frame, to give Alistair and Gilbert more reason to like his body than whatever metaphysical Veela hormones playing tricks on their perception. Now, for all that he had aged and grown, he still felt ridiculously outclassed in the looks department. He forgot this when Gilbert and/or Alistair were actively touching him, but with Alistair just staring for a long moment…

"Mattie," Alistair said softly as he sat up smoothly, hands framing his waist. "Wha's wrong?"

The sounds of Gilbert moving only made themselves known to Matthew when they went silent. He felt Gilbert staring at him at Alistair's question and mentally slapped himself. Focus, goddammit! He yelled at himself.

Matthew rested more of his weight on Alistair's legs and shook his head. He brought up a hand and lightly cupped Alistair's cheek, his inhumanly sharp eyes taking in the curves, textures, and edges of the other boy's face. His mind recalling exactly what he would look like in twelve months and he stared at the human imperfection that was the boy he loved. When Alistair's brow furrowed in concern, Matthew said, and his tone was awed, "You're beautiful."

Alistair's breath hitched and Matthew turned his head, seeking Gilbert and finding him just outside of Matthew's reach. He was staring at them both with a stunned expression from too far away, so Matthew reached for him with his free hand. He hadn't extended his arm even half a length before Gilbert came to them. "So fucking beautiful," Matthew said quietly, almost to himself.

Alistair started pressing soft kisses to his neck, causing Matthew to melt against him. He sighed and closed his eyes, baring more of his neck to him. A hand changed the angle of his head a little as Gilbert kissed him again, before carding its way through his hair, at once keeping it out of the way and (when it formed a fist) pulling in a way that made him utterly boneless.

He moved hand to trace the curves of Gilbert's torso and received a bite at his lips in response. Gilbert kissed him harder.

Matthew wouldn't be able to accurately say who exactly made a groan rise in his throat, only that it happened because of them. Alistair responded by pulling Matthew against him and marking his neck with biting, sucking kisses that clawed Matthew's hands. Gilbert licked possessively into his mouth and Matthew heard over the sound of it all the slide of skin on skin that he was not responsible for.

He turned his head away to breathe properly and Gilbert kissed down his cheek, until he ran out of skin and moved naturally to kiss Alistair's bare shoulder. Alistair pulled off Matthew's neck to offer Gilbert an enthusiastically taken kiss and Matthew lightly ran his fingertips from Alistair's face down his neck and chest at the sight.

Need thrummed through him and Matthew reminded himself what day it was. He whispered, voice mostly stolen by the lust choking him, "Fuck me."

Rather than the no from the months before or the not yet from yesterday, they broke their kiss and looked at him with slowly growing, nearly identical smirks on their faces. The hands Alistair had clutching his hips moved over his bare back and down his pants. His eyes were playfully satisfied at Matthew's silent gasp as he leaned in and asked against his lips, "How?"

Hallelujah.

Matthew made a small, helpless noise at the question and bit his lip, considering, before he said, "However you want me."

There was a sudden hardness to Alistair's face and Gilbert came to kiss his cheek. He said, "This choice is yours, Matthew. What do you want?"

You! he wanted to shout, but he understood why Gilbert would say this to him, would insist on him making a choice. But he didn't know what he wanted beyond both of them, forever. Fantasies were just that and he wanted to make sure they enjoyed themselves. He didn't know what he was doing!

Maybe he should start at the basics?

Matthew felt his cheeks flare hotter and he moved back enough to see them both easily. He cleared his throat and couldn't stop from fidgeting as he ventured, "I-I want to know what you feel like when you're—"

There was a frantic series of knocks at the door, cutting him off. Gilbert's gaze shifted focus to glare at the entryway. His face morphed into a scowl when Alfred's voice came through, urgent and panicked, "Mattie, I'm sorry but this can't wait! Please open the door!"

"Un-fecking-believable," Alistair groused, arms coming to hug Matthew close as if to keep him from leaving the bed.

"Not now!" Gilbert shouted at the door, but Alfred just kept up with the knocking.

Matthew sighed, pleased to know that the spell was working at least. "He can't hear you, Gil. Hon, let me go. The sooner I get rid of him, the sooner we can get back to celebrating my birthday."

Alistair let loose a long breath but released him and gave Matthew room to climb off him. Matthew moved to the edge of the bed, wincing at his persistent hard-on, and tried to think of anything other than his two mates waiting in bed for him. He did not want to answer the door with an erection.

"Matthew, I'm really serious!"

Fucking hell. "What the fuck could be this urgent, this morning?" he muttered to himself. He looked down at himself and decided that he didn't need to find a shirt. Kinda wished he had a robe.

"Hmm, I don't think I told ye good morning, yet," Alistair said lowly, presumably to Gilbert. There was a shift in cloth and the wet sound of them kissing again behind him. Not helpful, guys!

Fuck it. He was just going to hide behind his door. He needed to be back on that bed ASAP.

The knocking didn't stop until Matthew unlocked his door and pulled it open about an inch—just enough to glare at his brother. "What!"

Alfred was a mess. He had his Veela eyes but they were wide with panic. His hair was in utter disarray, more than the usual bedhead called for. His hands were shaking and he nearly whimpered, "I need help."

"From me? Right this second?" Matthew asked, though his ire was banked since it was so obvious that something was freaking Alfred out. This interruption had a reason.

"Yes. From you…and you mates." Matthew heard them go still behind him, listening. "I need them to check their phones. I…I think they will be the first people to get calls about…about…" His voice was unsteady, eyes unfocused, hands gesturing helplessly and Matthew heard Gilbert and Alistair shifting in search of their phones.

Thankfully no longer aroused, Matthew withdrew his fangs and moved more fully into the doorway. "Alfred," he started, tone gentle now. No matter what had happened between them, he has never seen his brother act like this. He had never seen him this…scared. "About what? What's wrong?"

He heard Alistair curse a blue streak under his breath as Alfred swallowed hard. His mate said, "Arthur? Why are ye callin' me?"

Alfred, already pale, looked close to fainting.

"Wait, slow down. Wha' are ye sayin'?"

"Your mate?" Matthew asked Alfred softly.

"…One of them."

Horror slowly came over Matthew as he suddenly understood why Alfred was panicked. Matthew knew his mates, was in a relationship with them. Alfred…oh God. Not even Arthur knew he was a Veela and he was Alfred's closest friend. But that meant… "Who?"

Gilbert's confused voice answered the question as he said, "Francis? What's up?"

Matthew whirled around, eyes wide and astonished at his mates' uncomfortable expressions, and the nearly intelligible words from people shouting into their phones, made the situation all too clear.

Alfred had two mates. Two mates who had been sleeping together and, from what Lovino had said, had a rough break up last month.

One was the younger brother of one of Matthew's mates.

Out of all of the layers of realization and yikes happening at the moment, the only thing Matthew could think to say was, "You've been attracted to Francis this entire time but got on me for being with Gilbert and Alistair?"

Alfred cringed. "Denial is a river in Egypt? But can we focus here?"

Matthew sighed. "Yeah. What do you need?"

"Aye, Arthur, tha's quite a lot. Would ye mind holdin'?" Alistair said then pulled away, not waiting for the answer but even Matthew could hear the shrieked, yes, I bloody well mind, Alistair! "Wha' should I say? Trust me, he knows tha' dream was not just a dream."

"What has he said?" Matthew asked, not really knowing what to do either.

"He knows tha' I'm wit ye an' tha' Alfred isn't human, but tha's about it. He's…not pleased tha' he didn't know but I did."

"Would Alfred talking to him help?"

Alistair shrugged. "I can ask." He put the phone back to his ear and said, "Ye want ta talk ta Alfred?" He jerked the phone away at the vehement no! "Well, I don't know wha' ta tell ye. Why is this botherin' ye so much? It's not like he hasn't been part Veela this entire time."

"Let me run this back by you," Gilbert said into the phone. "You dreamed you had a kinky threeway with my boyfriends' brothers and am now freaking out about it?" A pause. "Yes, I said that with both boyfriends in the room."

Alistair tried to hold back his laughter and failed, badly. "Sorry, Gilly just said somethin' funny. Please continue wit yer panic."

Matthew was trying not to laugh. "You've been around Alistair too much, Gil."

"How am I in this situation?" Alfred said, rubbing his eyes.

"No, ye are most definitely panickin'. And fer what? Wha's really botherin' ye? If yer confused as ta wha' tha' dream was, maybe ye should ask Alfred….Yes, I had a dream. Do ye really want me ta tell ye wha' happened in it? Because I don't think ye do."

"How about no, Alistair," Matthew said, face heating. No one besides his mates needed to know about how the claiming ritual was to be completed for them.

"…Mattie said I can't tell ye anyway. Aye, he's here. Wha' do ye think we were doin' before ye called? It's his birthday fer cryin' out loud."

"Oh, you're upset that you didn't know they're part Veela? Francis, why would Mattie, let alone Alfred have told you that? When have you ever had a conversation with them long enough for them to feel comfortable telling you that? And you know people are stupid, would treat them differently because of it," Gilbert said, trying to reason with his friend. He quickly scoffed into the phone. "You're just worried you'll like the biting too much. Congratulations, you now know where those silver lines on our necks come from."

"Gross, Mattie." Alfred muttered beside him.

"Shut up, Alfred." Matthew threw back. You're just jealous my mates let me mark them, he wanted to say, but that would have been cruel at this point.

"Listen, ye have questions, I get tha'. Wha' exactly do ye…no, ye can't be forced ta do anythin'. Yes, he's still tha same boy ye've been pining afta fer how long?"

"He what?" Alfred said quietly next to him, going still.

Alistair looked at Alfred and said into the phone, "Och, don't deny it ta me. Ye've been after him like I'd been after Gilbert fer years. Ye could maybe have 'em now, if ye just talked ta 'em, like a feckin' adult. He'll only bite ye if ye ask….Yes, I asked but Mattie's givin' me a look tha' says I should stop talkin' noo."

Alistair grinned at him and Matthew couldn't help smiling back, shaking his head at him.

"…Francis." Gilbert hedged, his careful tone sobering Matthew and probably alarming Alfred. "What you're describing…that's not what being a mate is. That's not what Alfred is to you and it sure-as-shit isn't what Matthew is to us. The choices we make are just that—choices… We are not with him because of what he is!" The last sentence was sharp and anger flashed across Gilbert's face. Matthew flinched, the thought a little too close to home for him.

"Talkin' really is tha best way ta go 'bout this. Mattie helped clear a lot of things up. Hell, talkin' would have saved us a lot of time an' pain. Just talk ta him, yeah? Alright. Here, let me find 'em…. Yer welcome, Arthur. Yeah, Gran would be happy fer ye… ma, too." Matthew held Alistair's gaze as he pulled the phone away and held it out to Alfred. "Here. Don't feck it up."

Matthew could see that Alfred's hand was still shaking out of his peripheral vision as he took the phone from his mate with a quiet but obviously heartfelt, "Thank you." He heard his brother clear his throat and say as he left the room, "H-hey, Arthur. Umm…surprise?"

"Really?" Matthew said to himself as he heard Arthur's predictably loud retort of Surprise!? Are you taking the fucking piss right now!? He went to Alistair and hugged him tight, so thankful to have him here rather than being in Alfred's position. He cuddled into him, silently reveling in the privilege of touching his bare skin like this. Alistair held him in return and kissed the top of his head.

"Don't you think you should get all the information before you start jumping to conclusions?" Gilbert asked, irritation gone from his voice. "Or, hell, if you don't want to talk to Alfred, do you want to talk to Matthew? …Yeah, they're very different but he's the best source I have for this mate thing since you refuse to talk to Alfred. Okay. Yeah, I get that just…yeah, okay, here's Mattie." Gilbert had a troubled look on his face and a question in his eyes as he stood and walked over to where he was still wrapped around Alistair.

Matthew sighed, pulled away from Alistair, and said, "I'll take it. Just because he's an ass doesn't mean I'm going to be one."

"Thank you, Liebling. He really seems disturbed and can barely speak." Gilbert handed him the phone then pulled him in to kiss his forehead tenderly before he could bring it to his ear.

Matthew wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed with his mates and just cuddle at this point, luxuriating in the privilege of having them be with him, but he had a job to do. He said into the phone, "Hello?"

"…Hello, Mathieu," Francis said, French accent heavy now and tone wary, distrustful.

Silence followed and Matthew felt awkward. He and Francis were always on friendly terms whenever the other boy remembered him and he didn't know if the distance was because of what he now knew he was or from shock of how he found out. Hoping to build a bridge, Matthew offered in French, "If it would make you more comfortable, we could speak in French. I can understand that this is all a bit shocking and I want to help as much as I can."

"…Thank you," came the French reply, so relieved that it sounded that he was close to tears. "I do not know what to think. The dream was so intense and fucking permanent and it feels like I'm trapped. I do not dislike Alfred, but we are not exactly on good terms. And apparently he is my keeper or master or something!"

Matthew frowned, thrown through a loop. "What makes you say that?"

"He bit me and said things that spoke of ownership and the scar would be permanent I could feel that much in the dream and—" Francis cut himself off and fuck, but Matthew hadn't really thought through what having that dream would be like for someone who knew absolutely nothing about Veela outside of the usual cursory information in textbooks. Matthew looked at Gilbert and Alistair, both of them watching him closely with uncomprehending frowns on their faces, and wondered if they would have had the same reaction if last semester hadn't happened.

"Francis," Matthew began gently. "What you saw in the dream was a Veela bonding ritual, a lot like our version of a wedding but with metaphysics rather than a legal contract. For non-Veela partners, it is when they accept the Veela as their mate willingly. You have a choice. Alfred does not. He is yours, but you are not his, as I am Gilbert's and Alistair's but they are not mine, not until the ritual."

Francis was quiet for a long moment but Matthew was patient and let him process this. He cleared his throat and said, "Then he is also Arthur's."

It wasn't a question, but Matthew answered it anyway. "It appears so."

More quiet. Eventually he asked, voice careful, "Is it true that you can go into a violent rage?"

Matthew frowned then a creeping understanding filled him and he felt nauseous at the thought. "Oh, my God. Francis, he cannot hurt you! Yes, we may have Rages and yes, you may be able to trigger them, but he would never—I can't even describe to you how unnatural him hurting you would be. I can't vouch for emotional maturity, but it goes against every cell in our bodies to hurt our…" The translation into French was imprecise and he hesitated.

"Your what? Mate?" The word was in English and spat out with disgust. "Like some animal?"

The casual dismissal of one of the most sacred and integral relationships in existence caused a spike of anger and he snarled, "I am no less of a Being just because I am not human. And I hesitated, not because I am ashamed of the word or whatever you think, but because the closest translation into French is soulmate and even that is not quite getting to it. You scoff at something that my mother waited centuries to find, that immortal Veela would die for, just because you do not understand it. I am trying to help you and would appreciate you not implying that my entire species is Feral."

"Mattie," Matthew looked at Gilbert at the word and realized that he had been pacing angrily. Gilbert and Alistair were sitting on the bed, watching him with concern. Just hearing him say his name cooled some of the anger in him and Matthew blew out a long breath. "You okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine," he said gently and it was true. His vision went back to his normal human blur and he retrieved his glasses from the bedside table

"…Mathieu," Francis said, drawing his attention. Matthew made a small sound of acknowledgment. "I think I may have overstepped and I am sorry for that." Matthew was surprised at the apology; he had fully expected Francis to get defensive. "For all that the dream was…intense, I do not recall feeling anything but safe and…well, concern for Alfred and Ar-Arthur in the dream. Now that I am thinking about it, truly thinking, nothing felt out of control, though I think Alfred was unwell?"

Matthew sighed. "Apology accepted. And yes, Alfred and I will be in dire straits if the ritual takes place on our seventeenth birthdays. I'm sorry, too. Talking about mates generally, and Gilbert and Alistair in particular, is about the only hair-trigger I have, anger-wise. I love them as individuals and treasure them as mates and the thought of hurting them or treating them poorly in any way…" Matthew shuddered in revulsion.

"So you will not hurt them?" Francis asked and Matthew was sure there was a second question wrapped around worry over his friends. Will he hurt us?

"Do not tell them this but…" Matthew looked at them, sitting on his bed, both more relaxed at his tone and casually touching as they lounged. Matthew continued with the surety and calm of a man heading to the gallows, "…I would literally rather die."

Francis was quiet for a long moment before asking with a dawning horror in his voice, "You almost did, didn't you? They had been so upset one day, utterly distraught that evening after the amortentia incident. I remember overhearing something about someone almost dying and it being their fault. That was you, wasn't it?"

Their fault?

Matthew paled, freezing where he stood and in an instant Alistair was up and pulling him back towards the bed, hands gentle and soothing. Matthew found himself speechless as he stared at Alistair, trying and failing not to be moved by his now deepening concern. He tried to school his expression and finally looked away as he fought the sinking feeling when he realized he had done something very, very dumb.

He never thought that they would blame themselves if he died, that they would take on that guilt if they couldn't save him from one of his rages. Regret, that he knew because Alistair had explicitly said so, but guilt? If they loved him as they said they did, as Matthew was really only starting to believe, then he needed to remember that.

He wouldn't give them a reason to feel guilty over his suffering, not if he could help it.

After a long moment where silence was apparently enough of an answer, Francis carefully said, in English now, "I have a lot to think about, but thank you. Really, I appreciate it."

Matthew shook himself, resolve set, and tried to focus on the immediate issue. "Of course. Any time you have questions, let me know. I'm sure Alfred would be happy to answer as well, but I can see if you weren't ready for that yet. If it makes you feel better, you were not the only one who got a shock this morning."

"…Arthur. He didn't know?" And that was a real question. Had Francis thought that he had been the only one who had been blindsided by this whole mess?

"No, he had no clue. Neither did Alfred, at least about who his mates were." Immediately after Matthew said it, he knew it was a lie. Either Alfred had been lying to Matthew or to himself because at the very least he would have known what his attachment to Arthur had likely meant.

Best not to explain that now, though.

"Oh." It was a soft and private sound and Matthew realized he had a question of his own for Francis.

Not wanting Francis to be hounded by Gilbert and Alistair if they heard, Matthew said in French, "May I ask you a question? You don't have to answer, but it may be something to think about."

"Yes, go ahead."

"During the dream, did you only feel safe with and concern for them?"

A long pause followed and it was long enough that Matthew looked at the phone to see if the call had dropped. Eventually, Francis said, "No, not only that. Thank you again, Mathieu."

"Bye, Francis."

He brought the phone down and flopped back onto the bed.

"Well?" Alistair asked, hand reaching automatically to smooth his hair back from his face. "How did tha' go?"

"I love you," he said, looking up at him before reaching out a hand to pull Gilbert closer to look at him, too. "I love you both and appreciate you so fucking much."

"…Tha' bad, then." Alistair said, the words joking but his expression telling him something else. It wasn't the wide smile that Matthew now knew was his alone. No, this was a look that smoothed any lines in Alistair's face, that had the corners of his mouth turn up just a little, and his eyes tender in a way Matthew had only let himself see last night in the hallway – as his boyfriend spoke in what had to be some kind of Gaelic to convince him that not only could he love him, but that he already did.

"He meant, we love you, too," Gilbert supplied, bringing up Matthew's hand to kiss the back of it. Matthew looked at him then and saw how Gilbert looked at him and Alistair with something that had to be devotion. Yes, he loved them, but the love on his face was different from Alistair's. There was determination there, a steadfastness and fierceness that never truly faded, no matter how caring and joy softened the expression. For some reason, Matthew couldn't help but be reminded of his mother and how her eyes at times seemed too ancient to be in her youthful face.

"I know." Matthew smiled at him, filled with a warmth at the words that was incredibly satisfying and radiated the feeling of home. He was so grateful for them that he couldn't see straight and he couldn't help but wonder how they saw him love them.

The tender moment was interrupted by a loud growling noise from his stomach. Both Gilbert and Alistair looked at Matthew's stomach (where a few love bites from their reunion slowly fading away), with a strange mix of amusement, apprehension, worry, and wariness. "Soooo, you two want breakfast?

Gilbert was having a bit of an internal moment as the three of them cleaned up and readied to head down to breakfast.

We wouldn't say he was a particularly selfish person. Hedonist though he was, he didn't take pleasure at the expense of someone else. He aimed to be more neutral than good generally, taking the path of least resistance if it was available and not otherwise reprehensible. He took what he could, when he could, because that was how the world worked, right?

All things considered, Gilbert had never felt more grateful in his entire fucking life.

Dressed, he waited for Matthew to fix his hair into something mildly controlled. He watched him gracefully flip his hair into an elastic and felt the near panic of the realization that he just as easily could have never made it here. Gilbert could be on the other side of the world, alone and confused instead of surrounded by love he never thought possible.

Gilbert was lucky, incredibly so, and understood just how much after his conversation with Francis and witnessing Alfred's harried response. The thing was he didn't believe that good things came without a price, had thought that they had earned their happiness by the hurts they endured to get here.

He had vastly underestimated just what he had. Now, deserved or not, he was determined that nothing and no one would take it from him.

Alistair came to his side and wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him into his side. "Alright, Gilly?"

Gilbert pulled him close and took his mouth. Alistair was here and Gilbert kissed him because he could, because a year ago he thought he would never be able to freely. Mine, Gilbert thought as Alistair kissed him back after a second of surprised stillness, memorizing the slightly different taste of his toothpaste. You are mine, too.

"Oh," came a soft exhalation and Gilbert slowly broke the kiss to look at Matthew staring at them with wide, glowing eyes over the rims of his glasses, cellphone halfway to his ear. He licked his lips and said, "Don't stop on my account."

A voice started playing through Matthew's phone, just loud enough in the room's silence to be easily audible.

"Happy birthday, bastard. Call me when you eventually crawl off your boyfriends' dicks."

The message ended there, Lovino apparently knowing how to make a point when he wanted to, and Matthew's face turned bright red. He quickly deleted the message and Alistair laughed, pulling away from him to bend over a little. Gilbert held back, but it wasn't pretty.

Matthew looked mortified. "You heard that?"

"Oh, yeah," Alistair said, grinning at him then moving forward to pull him into a bear hug. "Baby, don't be embarrassed!"

"If I could stop, I would!" he said, burying his face against Alistair's shirt.

"I mean," Gilbert said, drawing out the words to tease. "He didn't say anything that wasn't already on the plan. If I remember correctly, you weren't exactly interested in leaving the room much."

"Guess that's true…" Matthew said, sighing and pulling away from Alistair. His face was still a little red but he smirked at them and said wryly, "I would probably be less embarrassed if we hadn't been interrupted earlier."

Unprepared for Matthew to return the teasing, Gilbert didn't know what to say. Alistair managed, "Ye mean, ye would actually be…"

Matthew nodded with bright eyes at their reactions. "Oh, yes," he said, walking towards the door now. "I'm excited to know what you feel like. I'm certain its better than I imagined in my…explorations."

It was Alistair's turn to stare after Matthew, poleaxed, but Gilbert caught him around the waist and lightly tickled him. At Matthew's adorable giggles, Gilbert said lowly against his ear, "Playing with fire, Mattie."

"Good." Gilbert would have had something smart to say, but he felt Matthew's stomach rumble.

Right. First things first.

"We'll finish this later. You need to eat."

"Yeah, yeah," Matthew sighed but he did open the door and walk through. The smell cooking food hit them at full force and Matthew hurried towards it's source.

Gilbert let him go and Alistair was at his side again. "So, I've been makin' plans. I think it's best if we coordinate."

Gilbert looked over at his devious boyfriend and saw a familiar, near feral look. Gilbert felt similarly but… "Not the first time."

"There will be others."

"Agreed." They shared sharp smiles and followed Matthew downstairs.

Matthew's parents were well into cooking breakfast. Matthew himself was standing next to his father at the stove, munching on some stolen morsel. Helena was at the kitchen's island, deftly chopping strawberries with a knife that was probably a bit too big for the job, and she smiled at them as they rounded the corner. "Good morning, boys."

"Morning," they chorused, with Alistair of all people going a step further to ask, "Do ye need any help?"

Gilbert barely resisted the urge to stare at his boyfriend. Polite though it was, Alistair's anxiety over saying the wrong thing made him more reticent to volunteer anything. Maybe he was getting more comfortable with Matthew's family?

A minor miracle considering his past, all of which remained a touchy subject, even with Gilbert.

"Not for now, thank you," she said, smile just a tad brighter. "I trust you both slept well…?"

Gilbert had the grace to blush and Matthew turned to shoot an exasperated look at his mother who blatantly ignored him. "Mom…"

"Aye, sweet dreams an' all," Alistair answered with a coy quirk of lips. Helena laughed, clearly delighted.

"Lovely! It would be awkward if we had been wrong, no?" Her expression froze and she quickly sobered. "I'm incredibly happy for you. I could wish no better for my son."

There was sorrow mixed into her words now and Jonathan was at her side immediately. Gilbert understood, because even that note of sadness was touching. "Darling," he said, and it seemed to convey more.

She shook herself but didn't wave her mate off, even leaned into him a little. "Yes, I know." Gilbert shared a glance with Alistair and she answered their silent questions. "I have excellent hearing. I could hardly ignore Alfred's reaction this morning, even if I have yet to see him.

"Thank you for helping him, by the way. I know he has not been the most reasonable when it comes to you."

Gilbert cleared his throat, shifting on his feet. "It was no problem." Alistair made a vague noise of agreement.

Jonathan cut in before it could get any more awkward, Matthew tending to whatever was on the stove silently. "Please, sit down. You too, Mattie. The birthday boy should relax, right?"

"I don't mind, dad," Matthew said weakly as Jonathan lightly nudged him out of the way. He snagged another piece of bacon on the way out.

They filed into the dining room and Gilbert sensed tension growing between them. For all that they couldn't act on it now, none of them had forgotten what they planned to do once they were truly alone again. Alistair sat down nonchalantly—if you didn't know him well. Posture a little too alert and body facing them both, Alistair watched Matthew all but wiggle from the joy of eating. And Matthew, well. He certainly didn't need to suck the grease off his finger while holding Gilbert's stare and sitting in Alistair's lap, now did he?

"Careful," Gilbert said lowly, not forgetting how his mother had just mentioned how sensitive her hearing was.

Matthew raised his eyebrows at him, challenge and unabashed joy shining in his violet-ocean eyes. "Hmm?"

Matthew relaxed into Alistair who had automatically brought his arms around his waist like their boyfriend needed steadying. He rested his head against Alistair's shoulder, his slight smirk softening into a contented smile.

Alistair kissed Matthew's forehead. "Nothin', Mattie."

Gilbert, for all that he wanted to hold on to the slight pique, melted at the sight. Matthew was too adorable and nothing got to him quite like Alistair being incredibly soft with him. Gilbert sighed and closed the distance between them. He laid a gentle hand at the back of Matthew's neck and leaned down to kiss Alistair's forehead. His redhead scrunched his nose at him and mischief bubbled in him.

"This seat taken?" Gilbert asked before doing his best to sit on both Matthew and Alistair.

Matthew laughed and Alistair let out an undignified squawk at the sudden extra weight. The two had conflicting reactions with Matthew hugging Gilbert to him and Alistair working to shove him off.

For all that Alistair was (barely) managing the situation, the chair had no such compulsion and the resulting jostling was just enough with it's lopsided load to tip over. There was enough space in the dining room so there weren't many chairs at the table, leaving Gilbert to instinctively reach for the table to steady them.

They still ended up in a pile on the floor with a series of thuds. It was quiet for a moment before Helena called out, "Is everything okay over there?"

Matthew burst out laughing. Alistair called out, "Aye, sorry."

And he promptly tackled Gilbert lightly to the floor. Gilbert could have fought him but didn't, figuring he deserved it. Instead, he joined Matthew in laughter.

Alistair opted to not respond further to Gilbert and Matthew's teasing beyond fighting a smile. In fact, he seemed to take every opportunity to cuddle, reaching instinctively to Matthew and more deliberately toward Gilbert. One thing that never ceased to surprise Gilbert was how much his best friend soaked up physical affection like a sponge, especially considering how standoff-ish he was to pretty much everyone else.

Case in point, Alistair barely acknowledged Alfred when he finally came downstairs about halfway through breakfast and handed him back his phone with a soft, "Thanks."

Alfred's arrival made the atmosphere at the table tense, Helena and Jonathan clearly unclear how to broach the topic with their son and Gilbert clearly taking the path of discretion.

Helena rose and hugged him, quietly wishing Alfred a happy birthday. It was an emotional moment and Gilbert felt extremely out of place. He didn't like Alfred, had no reason to considering all the stuff that had happened in the past. On some level—and he knew it was a fucked up level, okay?—he kinda thought Alfred's situations with his mates was karma coming to roost, especially since Matthew was too good to have ever thought to pull what Alfred had attempted to.

Gilbert really didn't want to think about how he was supposedly made for Francis, one of Gilbert's best friends, and Arthur. He had jokingly considered the possibility of the latter before but it never struck him as anything but weird considering his current relationship. It wasn't quite the word for it but…two sets of brothers dating each other squicked him out and Gilbert was overall not a fan.

Not that he was going to say anything like that out load unless asked. He, unlike some people, knew when he needed to mind his own damn business. And his business was being there for the boys he loved, not offering unhelpful opinions about shit he couldn't change.

Matthew, proving once more how differently he treated his brother, swallowed around a mouthful and asked, "So? How'd it go?"

Alfred scowled at him but answered begrudgingly, "Could have been better."

Alistair looked over at Gilbert, their eyes meeting in a shared thought of, Hardly could have been worse. His boyfriend then continued being very interested in his breakfast and Gilbert didn't blame him one bit.

Being elsewhere would not be a bad thing. He was finding the food on his plate utterly fascinating at the moment.

Alfred continued, "How did, um. Was Francis okay?"

Gilbert froze at that, taken aback by the genuine concern in his voice. He looked to Matthew, hoping he wouldn't have to answer no, he was rightfully freaked the fuck out. Matthew was looking at his brother with compassion.

"Yes, he's fine. Shaken but nothing unexpected. It's all a shock and he needs time to process," Matthew answered gently.

Alfred looked at him, having apparently directed the question to Gilbert the first time around. "You talked to him?"

"He wanted to talk to someone in French," Matthew hedged. He was distracted from the half-eaten mountain of food on his plate. There were so many reasons Gilbert wanted them to speed through this meal and Alfred wasn't exactly making this efficient.

Jonathan, surprisingly, helped him out. "Why don't you get a plate, Alfred? I'm sure you're starving, and you need to start eating more."

"Alright." Alfred left to help himself and Matthew dug back into his food. Gilbert lost his appetite but worked on finishing off the little (but necessary) protein that was left on his plate. Alfred called from the other room, "What did he say, Mattie?"

"Nothing worth repeating," Matthew said casually, but his expression turned hunted and he really started going at the remaining food on his plate with gusto. It was impressive, damn near scary how much he could put away now when he put his mind to it.

"That's not what I asked," Alfred snapped as he came into the dining areas and sat down. Gilbert shot him a reproachful look. He needed to watch his tone with Matthew after everything that he had put him through.

"That's the answer you're getting," Matthew replied.

"Mathieu—" Helena tried but Alfred was louder.

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Alfred—" Jonathan warned.

"Dad! But he's my mate! I should—"

"He's not your anything," Matthew said calmly, causing everyone to look at him in mild surprise. He was staring at his twin with a serious expression, maintaining eye contact as he wiped his mouth deliberately with a napkin. "You are his and you're not entitled to him in the least. You need to change your mindset starting now to prove that you're worth connecting with to him."

Erm, what? Gilbert startled at the phrasing, having learned the hard way that he really needed to pay attention to how Matthew of all people said things. He glanced at Alistair who (as usual) was on Matthew's other side and his other boyfriend was staring hard at Alfred and probably hadn't caught the nuance in Matthew's words.

Right. Alistair had more of a reason to pay attention to Alfred than Gilbert. Then again, if Alfred was in some alternate universe fated to be with Ludwig instead, Gilbert would be pretty fucking attentive, too.

What a mess.

"I know I'm not entitled to him, obviously!" Alfred shot back as he poured maple syrup over his pancakes. "Excuse me for thinking you would want to help me out."

"He's helped ye out more than ye would have fer 'em," Alistair said lowly, muted rage shifting his features.

He had a point. "All of us have," Gilbert added, glaring at him at the reminder. They may have moved past the whole Quidditch Incident, but it sure has hell wasn't forgotten.

Matthew dropped his fork with a sigh and reached out to touch them both. Gilbert easily took his hand as Matthew said to Alfred, "I am helping you. Me keeping his confidence give him someone to talk to about this that has firsthand experience and a healthy relationship with their mates. Me breaking it means he might not feel like he has anyone to talk to about this, which is definitely unhelpful."

"…That makes sense."

"I usually do," Matthew said and God, but Gilbert loved him. He lightly squeezed his hand before letting him go, wanting to escape the table as soon as possible and usually that depended on Matthew finishing.

Matthew tucked back in and Alistair glared at Alfred a second longer before he started tapping at his phone. Jonathan and Helena exchanged a loaded glance that ended with a small, fluid gestured by Helena. Jonathan said, "So, about your driving tests…"

Matthew groaned quietly but Alfred perked up. He had mentioned at a couple of points during the summer about practicing, but he always waved it off in conversations. Gilbert knew driving made Matthew anxious and couldn't blame him after experiencing the ride from the airport, but he didn't realize he would be taking an exam about it soon. "I can take it today?" Alfred asked.

"Well, I'm sure it would be good to get out of the house for a bit and—"

"Yes!" Alfred actually fist-pumped and Gilbert had a new appreciation for Matthew's fear of driving. If this country would give Alfred the ability to operate a multi-ton vehicle now, then he severely doubted the skill of everyone else on the road.

"Jon," Helena said warningly but Alfred cut in.

"I'll be calm, I promise, mom! I haven't gotten road rage or anything before!"

Her expression screamed doubt. "We'll see how you handle waiting in line for the test. It is Saturday, after all. You know what that will be like."

"It'll be fine," Alfred said, clearly giving his best puppy-dog look to his mother, which seemed over-the-top compared to Matthew's and—

Wait.

They would be gone. Assuming Matthew would be staying here with him and Alistair…

Gilbert looked over at his mates, Alistair's eyes finding his in clear understanding and Matthew taking a sip of tea to (badly) hide his smirk.

"Mom," Matthew started with a smile, "I'm sure Alfred will do great."

"See! Mattie agrees—wait." Alfred narrowed his eyes at his twin. "Why do you agree?"

"I know you'll complain every day you don't have your license now that we can get them." Matthew's smile hadn't wavered, and Gilbert loved him.

"He has complained a fair bit 'bout yer excitement over drivin'," Alistair admitted, lying through his teeth. Matthew had only mentioned it in passing, but Gilbert nodded helpfully.

Matthew snorted a little but tried to cover the laugh by clearing this throat. "May we be excused," he asked his parents, ignoring the suspicious look Alfred was throwing all of them.

His father looked long suffering and mildly uncomfortable, but humor sparkled in Helena's eyes. "Just put your plates in the dishwasher."

"Thanks!" Matthew said, jumping up and hurrying away to the kitchen. Gilbert got up at a more sedate pace as both he and Alistair thanked them for breakfast. They followed Matthew to the kitchen and Gilbert was unsurprised to see Matthew laughing soundlessly to himself. He tried to sober when they entered, but then there was one of those moments where something seems very funny but no one could laugh. Gilbert had to bite both of his lips and Alistair was shaking with silent mirth. Matthew put a hand to his mouth.

"Stop laughing," he whispered to Alistair over the sound of the water rinsing their plates.

"Ye stop," he replied. They all had managed to straighten their faces, then looked back at each other and lost it again. Gilbert started herding them upstairs.

About halfway to Matthew's room, they heard a shout of, "Oh, gross!"

Matthew let out a full belly laugh that echoed in the stairwell. Alistair, who was ahead of them on the stairs, looked over his shoulder with a sharp grin and retort on his tongue, but he froze when he looked at Matthew. He looked like he'd taken a bludger to the head and Gilbert recognized that look, had worn it more than a few times himself.

Gilbert coughed pointedly, shaking Alistair from his fuck-he's-beautiful daze and was rewarded with a rare blush from him. Matthew was still laughing, likely hadn't noticed anything amiss—not that anything was, per se. He never seemed to notice when one of them would have to just stop to stare at him, overwhelmed with affection and awe for their mate.

Matthew had told Alfred he would have to prove to Francis he was worth talking to, worth being around. Gilbert needed to make sure that Matthew never felt like he had to do the same with him and Alistair. Matthew never had to prove his value to them and, considering what he knew would happen in a year, Gilbert had an idea of how to convey that.

They were barely into Matthew's room when Alistair turned and pulled Matthew into a kiss, the laughter dying in the latter's throat at the touch. Gilbert saw from where his hands held Matthew's face gently that Alistair was shaking. He closed the door behind him, sealing them away from the rest of the world, and Matthew made a questing noise of concern.

Alistair broke the kiss gently and Matthew immediately asked, "What's wrong, honey?"

He shook his head minutely and said, voice thick with emotion, "I love ye."

Gilbert's breath caught at the words and oh, they made him ache.

"Oh," Matthew gasped just before Alistair kissed him again, steadier now and with intent. Gilbert watched at Matthew pressed closer to him, withdrawing only far enough to take off his gasses and drop them to the carpeted floor. He stayed rooted to his spot by the door, transfixed as Matthew urged Alistair's t-shirt up his torso and eventually over his head, using the break to return the love declaration.

He knew that they—the three of them—were meant to be a unit, but Gilbert did wonder at the other, less fulfilling possibilities sometimes. He didn't mind it, knowing that he lived with the best possible outcome, but he took moments when he could to see what Matthew and Alistair would have been like without him. And goddamn, but they were beautiful, soft in a way that made Gilbert pine for them, the longing bearable because he knew all he had to do to be included was approach.

He was lucky, so fucking privileged to be able to see them like this, the pain a certain kind of pleasure, like watching your favorite artist create a piece you'd never see the end of. Together, Matthew and Alistair were a masterwork of almost everything Gilbert had ever wanted and he needed to protect this fragile paradise. He didn't have another option.

They broke the kiss and Gilbert's brooding. Without prompting, both of them looked over Matthew's shoulder to the mere feet that separated Gilbert from them. Matthew's eyes were glowing and starting to dilate, a welcome sight if he'd ever seen one.

Alistair gave him a mildly annoyed look, letting go of Matthew so that he could take the half step towards Gilbert to grab his shirt and pull him forward.

"What?" Gilbert asked with a smile, because he already knew the answer. "You were having a moment."

Matthew sighed and pulled him into his arms. Alistair said, "It's not a moment without ye, idgit."

Gilbert found himself soundly kissed before he could respond, which was just as well because that statement left him without a rejoinder. Alistair took the opportunity to continue, "Tha closest I've ever felt ta havin' a home since me ma died is when I'm wit ye both. Don't doubt tha'."

Matthew broke the kiss with a startled sound and looked at Alistair with wide eyes. Gilbert was doing the same, seeing his trepidation and sincerity.

Gilbert didn't know what to say, what he could possibly say to that, but he tried. "I love you more than I knew was possible."

Matthew made a wounded noise deep in his chest and they both looked at him with some urgency, because the last time he had made that noise was the night before. To Gilbert's alarm, there were tears in his eyes that began to fall with a blink. Wrong, Gilbert felt to the very core of himself. That was wrong, Matthew should never cry.

"Baby—" Alistair said, voice as distraught as Gilbert felt at the sight but Matthew shook his head and smiled.

"Two things," he said, voice watery as he started moving backwards. "First—fuck!"

Matthew had stepped on his glasses, jumping away from them before they could break under the pressure. Alistair caught him automatically and Gilbert leaned down to scoop up the offending article. "Ye okay?" Alistair asked.

Matthew laughed harshly, but there was a smile on his face. "Yeah. I was going to say something romantic, but I think the moment's lost."

"It's only lost if we say it is," Gilbert said with a frown, wanting to hear what thought had brought those tears to his eyes.

"I wanna know," Alistair said softly and Matthew melted at the tone. Interesting, Gilbert thought. Useful.

"Not much more romantic than being happy with the fact you have parts of my soul," Matthew said in a rush, looking away from them, embarrassed for some reason. He tried to turn out of Alistair's arms, but he held tight. Alistair wrapped himself around him and nuzzled into his neck. Gilbert caught his smirk at Matthew's visible shiver.

"And the second thing?" Gilbert asked. He put Matthew's glasses on the closest bedside table. Matthew hesitated, giving Gilbert enough time to come in front of him and encourage him to meet his eyes with a hand to his cheek.

Matthew licked his lips and, when he began talking, Gilbert saw a hint of his fangs. "I'm getting a little desperate and can't say what I'll do if we don't move this along within the next five minutes."

Need wove its way into his voice, and who was Gilbert to deny him…anything really.

"Gladly," Alistair answered, hands moving beneath Matthew's shirt. Visible relief made his eyes flutter shut and Gilbert kissed him because it was easier than anything else. "Ye never did tell us wha' ye want, though. Start wit tha'."

Gilbert broke the kiss and reveled in Matthew's rapid breathing. "You said you wanted us to fuck you, Liebling. Tell us how."

Blood rushed to his cheeks and he shuddered, "If I'm yours—"

"If?" Alistair snarled archly into Matthew's ear and Gilbert saw Matthew's pleasure at the possessive tone, was close enough to hear his shaky gasp.

He opened his eyes and met Gilbert's steady gaze with bright eyes, just a hint of a smile to his parted lips. "If I'm yours, then you should claim me."

They proceeded to do so.

As Alistair had suggested the week prior, they couldn't spend all their time in bed. For all that his mates were determined to prove him wrong (especially Matthew with that venom, heaven help him), they really needed food and water and actual clean up rather than convenient corner-cutting spells.

When they went downstairs the first time at mid-morning, Matthew's family had gone, presumably getting Alfred his driver's license and giving them time to be alone. (The latter was throwing Alistair through a bit of a loop. He supposed that Helena, of all people outside the three of them, most wanted to see them formally mated when Matthew turned seventeen and was taking steps to enable that, but it still struck him as a little too easy.)

Thanks to Matthew's foresight in bringing up a ridiculous amount of snacks and water during that first venture, they didn't leave his room again for any length of time until early evening. Everyone was definitely back and Helena had looked inordinately pleased when she saw them, asking what they wanted to order from their go-to Italian place.

They were sitting at the dinette table in the kitchen, looking over the menu, when Alfred said from the very edge of the room as a greeting, "No offense, really, but you both reek."

Alistair couldn't help frowning at him, somewhat startled because Alfred had mostly behaved himself while he and Gilbert had been here. It wasn't like they hadn't showered. Next to him, Matthew stilled and lifted his head slowly to stare at his brother.

"Alfred!" Jonathan said, shocked and disapproving of his son's words, even as he moved automatically to be between his children.

"It is okay, Jon. Alfred cannot help what he is sensing, but I can help him understand it." Helena sighed and suddenly looked tired. She leaned against the kitchen island and continued, "Mathieu, I know you can't control it but Gilbert and Alistair smell very strongly of you, assumingly because you had sex with them for the first time since your dream."

"Mom!"

"Helena!"

Alistair sat there, frozen as an involuntary blush heated his cheeks. He was distantly aware of Gilbert's breath going out of him in a whoosh, as if he'd been punched. He hated to admit weakness to himself, but Alistair so was not going to meet anyone's eyes right that second.

He had known that everyone knew what was going to happen after breakfast, but did she have to say that out loud?

Matthew shifted uncomfortably beside him, shocked out of his stillness, as Helena blinked at Alfred and her mate. "Excuse me?" Matthew asked, voice high.

No one answered her for a heartbeat. Then Jonathan made a mildly strangled sound and said, "You didn't have to put it like that, sweet."

She blinked at him again, uncomprehending. "It explains the change in their scents, dear. Is not the fact that our son is so loved by his mates not a blessing?"

The three boys in question sunk lower in their chairs as a unit. For God's sake, Alistair thought. It wasn't that he didn't love Matthew but he hadn't expected his mother to be so…blunt about it. Were all parents so accepting?

Surely not. The fact that she wasn't upset about it was a gift horse he shouldn't check the mouth of, yet… Did she have to keep saying it out loud?

"Yes, but—" He cut himself off then shook his head, face pale. "Never mind, it's a human…cultural thing. Please continue."

Helena looked confused then made a physical push-away gesture. "I only have honesty to offer, but I do apologize if I made people uncomfortable. In any case, because Alfred has started his transition to adulthood, his senses are sharper to things he would not have picked up before.

"Alistair and Gilbert," she looked at them. Alistair tentatively met her eyes and found them kind as she smiled a little. "You have always smelled a little of Matthew to me, for he is yours and you keep him close. But where this morning it was more subtle, you are now covered in his pheromones. Think of it as the difference between burning a lightly scented candle and putting your face directly into a bouquet of roses. For me, and any other mated Veela or Being with sensitive noses, it simply marks you as his. It shows that you have at least partially accepted his claim on you, and that you are not open to other advances. For Alfred, as one who is yet unbonded, the smell can be mildly repulsive."

"Mildly?" Alfred said under his breath and Alistair winced. Not a good sign.

There was another moment of quiet when Gilbert cleared his throat and started, "Sorry, but can I ask a question?"

"Of course!" Her face brightened from subtle movements in her expression. Her eyes displayed her happiness, likely that Gilbert wanted to engage in discussing this, but very few muscles on her face moved otherwise. It told Alistair two things: Helena had a very tight lid on how she expressed her emotions (Would Matthew have to do that? Be that controlled of himself? Constantly? He doesn't do that now.) and Alistair needed to pull himself together and pay attention.

"What do you mean by partially accepting his claim?"

She hummed and tilted her head to the side, considering but there was something not human in the gesture if you knew what to look for. It wasn't as sharp as it could have been, but there was something distinctly avian in the movement. After a moment she straightened her head and asked, "Do you mean if anything has changed because you had sex?"

"…Yes."

"I…don't need to be here for this," Alfred said, trying for diplomacy as he began inching his way further out of the room.

"You will need to know this, too," Helena argued rationally.

"Yes, but—"

"We can fill him in later. I'm sure Alfred leaving would ease everyone's discomfort a little," Jon interjected calmly, looking steadily at his mate. "How about we go order at the restaurant, hmm? Get a variety and maybe some ice cream on the way back?"

She stared back at him for a moment before understanding seemed to dawn on her. "Oh, very well. We will need dinner anyway."

"Thanks!" Alfred said as he quickly fled towards the side door.

"We will have to talk about this soon, however!" Helena called back, but with amusement in her voice. Jon smiled at her before stopping on his way out to kiss her briefly in farewell.

"It'll be fine," he said quietly before leaving. As he walked out of the room, he said, "Text Alfred with anything in particular you all would want, Mattie."

"Thanks, Dad," Matthew said, subdued and Alistair squeezed his hand beneath the table, hoping to reassure him. They had to be touching because of Matthew's venom anyway, but now it was at least useful.

It would have not taken long for Alfred and Jon to leave, but Helena wasted no time in getting them back on track. "Now, Gilbert, back to your question. Nothing that you have done thus far is permanent. The fact that you now smell strongly of my son means that you and Alistair are positively considering being his mate. You may feel more drawn to him, but, as in all things, Mathieu will be most affected."

"Aye, about tha'…" Alistair started, sitting up fully. "I get tha' this will be hard on him. How will Mattie feel differently?"

She glanced at Matthew, a quick weighing look, then said to them, "He began this by relying on you both. He's now conditioned to seek you almost exclusively to relieve the internal havoc he feels."

Helena focused on Matthew again, gentleness in her expression now. "Your instincts see physical intimacy with them as a way to ensure your bond. They are parts of you, my darling, and the part of us that seeks our mates cannot be quieted easily, especially in times of stress. And you've never experienced the stress of physical maturing as quickly as you are about to."

Alistair read between the lines. Matthew was going to be sex crazed for the next year. Like it might actually make him more likely to lose control of himself if he's too horny.

It was going to be a year of the weeks that had led up to exams.

Alistair was still processing but Matthew asked, "Will nothing else help?" His voice was carefully empty, too neutral not to be alarming, and Alistair looked at him. He was wide-eyed and pale.

She frowned at him a little. "Keeping up with physical exercise and such will help exhaust you, but this is one of the few safe ways."

"What are the others?"

"Mattie…" Gilbert said, tone suspicious and with good reason. Everyone had narrowed their eyes at Matthew's question.

He had the nerve to shrug. "I want to know my options in case of an emergency."

Alistair frankly had concerns over what Matthew would qualify as an emergency. He loved him, but he didn't quite trust him with his own safety at this point.

That was a worrying thought.

Helena shot a Look at her son, one that somehow got across parental worry and her fury over Matthew's past antics when it came to his health. Matthew slumped a little in his chair at it but she still said, "Anything that would let your instincts override everything else would help. Outside of intimacy—which is not limited to sex, obviously-that only leaves danger and violence."

Rages. The very thing that had almost killed him this year.

Right. Looks like he was getting laid and cuddles a lot over the next year. Alistair was fair from complaining, though he wished it didn't have the edge of necessity. For all that his body pushed him, he didn't want Matthew to feel like he had to sleep with them for any reason other than pure desire.

Oh.

That had been Matthew's argument for not telling them a bunch of things.

Huh. Maybe he owed him an apology.

Then again, unlike him and Gilbert, Matthew was the poster child for self-sacrifice. Better not to encourage that.

Apparently, his mother had the same idea, her voice dry and eyes sharp as she added, "As long as it is not an emergency of your own design."

"I wouldn't do that, mom."

"Have you not already?"

Matthew slumped further in his chair. "That was different."

"How so, Mathieu?" Helena snapped before closing her eyes and taking a deep, long breath. Matthew looked miserable, prompting Alistair to lean into him. He knew she was just worried, but that was no reason to make Matthew feel like this.

Gilbert spoke up, saying carefully, "He didn't understand what would happen then, ma'am. Mattie promised that he wouldn't do that again to a lot of people and we trust him."

Do I?

Maybe not with this one thing, but no one needed to know that.

Helena sighed and rubbed at her temples. "Please, Gilbert, it's Helena. And I have the closest understanding to what this will be like. I know how it will feel like you are losing control of your life, Mathieu, and how you might want to fight that. But you will need to learn to walk the line of what is control and what is obstinance. There is no shame in asking for help that you need, or in accepting it."

She looked at Matthew with a laser focus and continued, "I am sorry you have to deal with this. Now that you do, however, I want you to understand that the choices you make have serious and immediate effects on your health and sanity. It is a responsibility that few people consciously deal with ever, let alone at your age. I want you to remember that, and the impact those choices have on the people you love. I guarantee you that everyone wants you to be happy and healthy; almost anything else is secondary."

She was right, mostly.

"Wha' could be more important than tha'?" Alistair asked.

She looked at him and her mouth quirked to the side. "To him? You and Gilbert's health and happiness."

Oh, geez.

Alistair just stared at him and Gilbert made a low noise in his throat. "Well," he said stridently, "Matthew being okay is a big part of that."

"I know that, sweetheart," Matthew said before straightening abruptly. He continued gently, "Maman, you know I'm not the one with control issues."

She let out a long breath and leaned heavily against the island. "I am aware. He's getting the same speech from me later."

"You think he won't get the help he needs?"

"I don't know. I do know it would take a miracle to get your brother to ask in the first place. He's too much like me for his own good."

Helena shook herself and any darkness that started to cloud her expression vanished. "Did you have any other questions?"

"Aye, erm." Alistair cleared his throat. "Is there a way ta mask Matthew's scent on us?"

Matthew startled and pulled his hand out of Alistair's. When Alistair looked at him, offended being the gentlest word for his expression. "Wha'? I'm not denyin' ye or tha' we're together. I just don't want ta announce ta yer brother every time we have sex."

Matthew's nose wrinkled at the idea and he looked slightly mollified. "I'm not sure," Helena said, amusement plain in her voice. "I'll look into it."

Later, after dinner and when they could be alone again, Matthew hugged him and asked, voice small, "Does it really bother you?"

"Wha's it?" Alistair asked, confused at the non-sequitur.

"That you smell like me to mom and Alfred and anyone with a sharp nose?" Matthew looked up at him, eyes wide and careful. Alistair held him tighter and kissed his forehead.

"Of course not, Mattie, jus' like I don't mind wha' it means. I'm yers, an' I have accepted yer claim ta me. I'm only not a fan of bein' told I 'reek'."

His answer made Matthew happy enough that he tackled Alistair into Gilbert, who then fell onto the bed. Things progressed very nicely from there.

Matthew woke up in the middle of the night with an urgent need to use the bathroom. He wiggled his way free of Alistair and Gilbert to their annoyed, sleepy grunts and managed to climb out of bed without waking them. For the first time, he deliberately switched his eyes with a pointed thought or two, just to see in the dark without his glasses. He had managed to locate a robe at some point during the day, so he pulled that on before leaving the room. He didn't know how long he had until his venom and physical absence would make them uncomfortable enough to wake, so he needed to be quick.

It was only a few minutes later that he, about to re-enter his bedroom, heard the soft sound of the refrigerator close from the first floor. There was only one member of their family that was known to eat in the middle of the night like this and something was urging him downstairs. Matthew gave one last glance to his door before turning to the staircase. He could probably use a midnight snack anyway.

Matthew went to the kitchen and wasn't surprised to find Alfred at the table drinking some of the protein shake their parents made in big batches throughout the week. The only lights on were from the appliances, so Matthew felt more comfortable leaving his eyes as they were. Alfred had done the same routine for so long that he probably never thought to put the lights on now.

"Hey," he said as he approached, snagging an apple from the island on his way to the table.

"What are you doing up?"

Matthew raised his eyebrows at him. "Polite."

"Don't you have mates to get back to?" Alfred asked, sullen.

"Sorry for caring about you, then," he snapped before turning on his heel.

"Wait," Alfred said quietly. Matthew half turned back to him then pointedly took a bite out of his apple, waiting. "I'm sorry, okay? And thanks. For caring."

Alfred looked miserable, so Matthew shrugged off his annoyance and came back to the table. "Be a shit brother if I didn't." He flinched and Matthew sighed. "I didn't mean—"

"Yeah, you did, and you're right. I was a being shitty. And you haven't been."

It was quiet for a moment and Matthew chewed another bite, trying to figure out how to approach this. Alfred stared into his half-empty glass, clearly not seeing it. Eventually he said, "You want to talk?"

Alfred visibly hesitated before sighing and running his hand through his hair. "Nah but I probably should. You might be the only person who gets it."

"Mom—"

"Is mom. You're not." Alfred took a breath and said in a rush, "I didn't want to have a mate."

Matthew reacted like he'd been slapped, something in him twanging at just how wrong that statement was. Still, Alfred wanted understanding. Matthew could try.

He blinked at his brother and calmly said, "Why didn't you?"

"It's so much…" Alfred trailed off, hands waving listlessly in front of him. "Bullshit. You have to go through so much bullshit for something you didn't get to decide in the first place. Fate is fine as a narrative device in a fairytale, not for real life. How much of who I am was decided so I could be perfect for someone else? How much of me is me?"

Okay, yikes. Matthew was singularly unprepared for this kind of philosophical discussion. He had dismissed it outright because thinking about the predestination of it all didn't stop the fact that he was happy and loved Gilbert and Alistair.

But Alfred was not Matthew.

"I thought about that, too, when I figured out they were both my mates. Hell, I was ready to fight it when I thought Gilbert was my only mate, if it meant we could all be together anyway. I think it deals with physical changes at attraction, not your personality or personhood, Alfred. I don't love them because I am attracted to them, or because I am their mate. I love them for who they are and how they treat me."

Alfred's face twisted in contemplation and Matthew had a thought. "Before you found out for sure, did you want to be with them, or at least Arthur?"

"How do I know if my liking Arthur is real, Mattie?" he asked, and Matthew was taken aback by the vulnerability there. "If Arthur is my mate, how do I know I really like him and it's not the universe pushing us together?"

Matthew frowned at him. "Why does that matter? Isn't you being happy the most important thing? So what if you were made for him if you like him for who he is?"

"But it wouldn't be real!"

"If it feels real, then why not?" Matthew shot back, because if Alfred's years-long feelings for Arthur weren't real because they were mates, then why would his feelings for Gilbert and Alistair be different? "Fate does not negate free will!

"Let's take your view of a second," Matthew said, changing tracks as he saw Alfred begin to get frustrated. "Say you love Arthur now—don't look at me like that, we both know you do—but you refuse to be with him because you're his mate. You ignore how Arthur apparently feels about you, too, and you're both miserable. You go through this year without a clear outlet for your stress, you hit our birthday alone and deal with that, then you spend the rest of your life knowing that you let your perfect romantic partner go because you went against what the universe made you for solely because it wasn't something you made happen."

Alfred stared at him, stunned. Matthew took a deep breath and asked, "Is that what you want, Alfred?"

He took another bite of apple to give him a reason to not start yelling at his brother how fucking stupid that was.

Matthew stared him down and continued munching at the fruit in his hands, wanting an excuse to leave the conversation having made a point that he thought would get through his brother's thick skull.

Eventually, Alfred said quietly, "I'm not supposed to have a mate, anyway."

…Where to even begin? "That's…an opinion."

"What?" Alfred frowned at him. "I didn't think I would at least, when you said you had two. We've split basically every non-human trait between us. If you had two mates, that should have meant there were none left for me. I should have been safe."

"We didn't split everything."

Alfred held up a fist. "The point." Then he held up his other hand. "You."

His open hand flew over and around his fist.

Why was he trying to help him again? "Fuck off. That was a huge assumption to make and you know it. It doesn't matter what you think should be, only that you deal with what is. And, like it or not, you have two people that you are bound to on a physical and metaphysical level. Wanting it to be different won't make it so.

"Look," Matthew said, sighing as he stood, "I want you to be happy. I want you to stay sane. But that's something only you can control here."

"I don't control shit," Alfred said, glaring at him. "They do."

Point there, kind of. "You can control how you behave. And—"

"Mattie?" Matthew turned his head sharply and saw Gilbert at the foot of the stairs, now wearing pajamas but rubbing his arms like he was cold. He was wincing and Matthew started to go to him.

"Think about what I've said," he said absently as he quickly threw the apple core in with the compost and went to take Gilbert's hand.

"You call that control?" Alfred said, disgust failing to cover the fear on his face as Matthew took Gilbert's hand. His mate relaxed and pulled him closer, though he didn't step to leave the room. Gilbert blinked and frowned at Alfred.

Matthew scowled, then realized that he had probably torn down whatever argument his words had tried to build with that one action. Fuck. "I bit him, Al."

Alfred scrunched his nose up at that. "Didn't want to know that, thanks."

"My venom makes it uncomfortable for them to be away from me for some time after it's introduced to their system. It probably woke him up."

Alfred's face cleared a little and Gilbert said, voice heavy with sleep, "Wait a second. You think we control him?"

"I think he can't control himself," Alfred hedged, clearly not prepared to talk about this with someone else.

Gilbert glared at him and there was real anger on his face. He stepped toward Alfred and hissed, "All he does is control himself."

Alfred startled and Matthew squeezed Gilbert's hand, "Angel…"

"No, Matthew," full name, he was serious then, "You damn near kill yourself because you wanted to deal with your Rage without us and he doesn't think you're in control?"

Matthew recoiled from the rage and pain in his voice, only just remembering to keep his hand. Gilbert kept going, stepping in front of Matthew now to quietly yell at his brother. "He had to keep his emotions in check throughout his OWLs and you think that's nothing? You think he's anything but careful with us? You'd think Alistair and I were glass for how treats us. Just because you're insecure about your limits doesn't give you reason to take it out on Matthew, ever."

Oh, my.

"Come on, Gil," Matthew shakily said and began pulling him gently towards the stairs. "No need to wake up Alistair for taking too long."

Gilbert easily turned and put an arm around Matthew's shoulders, pulling him closer to kiss his temple. "Alright."

Matthew quickly herded them up the stairs. When he made it back to his bedroom, Alistair was sitting up in bed, scowling at nothing. Great.

Right before he closed his door for the night Matthew caught, at the very edge of his enhanced hearing, "He almost died?"

Matthew winced. That was a problem for a different day. For now, he had two cranky mates to coax back to sleep.

A/N:This is the birthday chapter, I guess.

Lots of life changes for me. I use they/them pronouns now. I finished law school and passed the bar. I work full time. Life's a struggle.

Chapter title is from Florence and the Machine's "Howl." My blood is singing with your voice/I want to pour it out/The saints can't help me now/the ropes have been unbound.

The second half of the chapter take a different song now. When the story is complete, I'll go back and merge the chapters and no one will know, right? Right.