Alfred cast a longing glance across the bedroom at his PlayStation, then another glance to his bedside table where sat his PSP. With a sigh, he turned back to the laptop balanced on his knees. His games were just a few points and clicks away, taunting him from every angle.

But Matt was over to do homework (and he meant homework when he said homework) and It would suck to disappoint him – it had to be that look he gave Al, considering he could blow off homework just fine with Arthur breathing down his back, seething about "gentlemen needing an education" but it was different when people other than "mom" had a say. Sometimes Francis and Ludwig could get him to do his work, but not often.

Now Matt, he could just look at him and make him pick up a pencil. Call it what you will (Ludwig calls it "whipped" Feliciano refers to it as "amore" – whatever that means) but it just happens.

"How's it coming, eh?" His favorite sound broke Alfred from his trance, he leaned way back in his computer chair to stare -slightly upside down- at Matthew Williams. Canadian. 19 years old and adorable. Rounded glasses, curly strawberry blonde hair, blue-violet eyes, with a smile painted by angels and cheeks near constantly dyed pink.

"It's comin'. I'm on 367 words." He laughed lightly, an action that had become more of a habit, "So only," he paused, calculating, "243 left." He turned the screen to cater to Matt's standing height as he tilted his head to skim the text. With a nod he sauntered back over and seated himself in front of his own computer on the bed. Alfred watched for a second, before he got up, stretched, and crawled over the covers on his stomach to peak at what Matt was doing. He had the screen turned for his own eyes now. Matt had written a lot. He hadn't intended to read it all, but his brain sorta kept calculating by itself. He moved to rest his face on his hands and get ready for the long haul.

"Damn Mattie, this is good." He hadn't meant to use that little internal nickname out loud. He usually just called him Matt. He could feel his own cheeks getting hotter at that, but he took some comfort in knowing that Mattie didn't know he meant it as affectionately as he did. In all truth, he was head over heels for this guy beside him. His look-alike, as people seemed to think. It's an odd thing to have a crush on a member of the same sex, your best friend, and on top of that, they're straight. That's its own kind of loneliness. But, he smiled as he finished the last paragraph -Mattie was amazing- he could ignore that little bit of information right now. He could shove those naughty thoughts as far back in his head as he could while Mattie was over.

"That was great Matt. No teacher could give that a bad grade." He grinned broadly at the boy at his side. Matt's returning smile melted some little sensible part of him, and he let his shoulders go limp and rested his head on his own forearms. Then he rolled his head to the side so that it propped against Matt's knee and stayed there – there was a sick little satisfaction with this oh-so small contact. He didn't move aside from breathing and spent a few quiet moments thinking about what the fuck he was supposed to do. The steady clicking of computer keys trailed off and he felt Matt lean over, trying to see his face past his springy can't-do-shit-to-it English hair.

"Al?"

"Hmm?"

"What are you doing?"

"Layin'." He could practically see Matt's eyebrow raise and his eyes narrow.

"I see that, but why?" Oh well, time to be the loud, obnoxious American boy he was born(or spontaneously created?) to be. He turned his torso in such a manner that he could easily wrap his arms around the Canadian's waist, and so he did. He tackled Matt, hugged him, and giggled shamelessly.

"Because you're comfy!"

"W-what the Maple, Alfred? You're such a creeper." He rolled his eyes -Alfred could just see them in his head- and attempted to sit back up. He let him, but remained laid out behind him, twisted around him in a way. It was pretty uncomfortable. Matt looked back, face as red as Alfred has imagined.

"Whoa, Mattie, you got a fever?" It was corny, but it worked. Alfred jerked himself up and brought his hand to Matt's forehead.

"Wha- N-no!" He couldn't help but snicker at that. He loved Matt. He was utterly puke-rainbows gay for this Canadian -he'd learned that the more often you repeat something to yourself, the easier it is to hear. Then a thought struck him. He pulled his cell phone out and snapped a picture of Matt's upper face -centered around his eyes- and Matt, being the polite guy he is, let him.

"What was that about Al?" Alfred maneuvered out of the bed and laid himself out sideways in his computer chair, Matt crawled after him, watching as he pulled out his memory card and transferred that picture to his computer.

"I wanna know what color your eyes are."

"They're blue."

"No they're not." He spun back around while he waited on Photoshop to come up, very serious about this little subject. It was almost a childlike determination. "They're blueish. Blue's too boring of a color, like my eyes. Mine are blue. Yours are more... blue-violet. They're darker."

"Evil irises. Charming." Matt stuck his legs between the bed posts as the picture popped up on screen. Alfred pulled up the tool and found the average color in his eye. It showed up somewhere in the middle of dark blue and purple. So Al was right.

"You spend a lot of time thinking about this don't you?" Matthew couldn't help the question roll off his tongue. Honestly, he was flattered that Al spent to much time paying attention to him and noticing the little differences between them. Sometimes it could really get him down to get called Alfred. The Jones part he didn't mind, it was better than Williams.

"I guess you could say that," It was at this time that his grin got a little predatory and his eyes got a few shades darker. It was hot, but why would Alfred Fucking I'm-so-straight-I-could-get-any-girl Jones look at him like that? "then again, it's more of a reaction to think about you."

"Because we're oh so similar?" Matt's heart was fluttering now, because organs have that annoying way of knowing when they're being spoken to, but he kept the atmosphere light. His voice was laden with sarcasm and both boys laughed. They both knew it was such a lie.

"But no seriously, why do you?"

"In all honesty, I'm your hero dude. I'm supposed to think about my damsel."

Two things registered to Matthew then. 1.) your Hero. 2.) my damsel. Despite the obvious possessiveness that didn't strive in a normal friendship, all that Matt let spew from his rather tight throat was,

"I am not a damsel, Mr. Hero."

"Aw. But you'd make such a cute damsel. Your hair is longer, and you have that curl." He reached out to poke at it. Again, it occurred to him that he'd just been called cute, and that Al had picked out another difference. But he just kept vomiting words when he should have been blushing and stuttering.

"You've got a cowlick too. Why can't you be the damsel?"

I think it's called denial.

"Because I'm the hero!"

"I don't see any cool powers. No claws. No telekinesis. No webs."

"You're gonna make me go get that Captain America shield aren't you? Besides, I'm the kind of hero that helps old British men cross the street and save little kids from the ocean.

"Peter fell in the ocean?" Matt's face was utterly serious about the safety of Alfred's younger brother. Alfred, on the other hand, had struck a Superman pose.

Alfred started laughing then, and it was one of those contagious laughs that caught on to every voice box in hearing distance. Nothing was really very funny, it was a because-I'm-happy laugh. When it died down Alfred saved his work, closed the laptop and sprawled out on his bed beside his beloved Mattie.

"Matt, I'm thirsty."

"Your coke's over there."

"Get it for me?" He put his hands together in front of his chin and pouted. "Please? If you love me?"

"I'm j-just doing this because you said p-please. Okay?" His face was bright red as he pulled his legs out of the bars and walked across the room. Alfred was very smug. Not only had he made his Mattie blush, but he had the perfect view of Matt's ass.

"Damn Mattie, swing those hips." He crowed as Matt spun around, red as a tomato and glaring viciously. His eyes were watering from the laughter and he shoved a pillow over his face to try and stifle the noise. To no avail, the inevitable happened and his laugh stopped short in his mouth. Alfred F. Jones, hero to crabby old British men and whiny little British kids, snorted.

Matthew, on the other hand, was quite enjoying the show. Alfred was squirming around and laughing hysterically -albeit at his expense- it was well worth it when that certain noise popped out. His face quickly became very very red and very very aggravated. Then he sneezed and covered his face back up in the pillow.

If you listened closely you could hear "dammit" mumbled into the cotton.

"You're such a nerd, Alfie."

WAIT! Did he really just say that? No! No, dammit, no! He brought his hand to his face and muttered certain things to himself in French his Papa wouldn't approve of.

"What was that?" Consider him elated. Mattie had a nickname for him too? Really?

"N-nothing! I mean, uh, I just meant you shouldn't look so angry. It was just a snort.

Denial. Alfred narrowed his eyes a little, then raised an eyebrow, "Oh? And why is that?"

"It's not a bad thing, I mean, it's kind of, um,"

"Yeaaah?"

"I mean, somepeoplethnikit'scute." He tried to look suave now, so he forced his nerve wracked shoulders to lift and drop -a poor excuse for a shrug- and placed himself back on the bed -with Al's coke- like nothing happened.

"Really? Do you, Mattie?" By now every cell in his body was on cloud nine and he could feel his ability to process the world around him properly dissolve. It was hard to imagine Matt didn't feel the same now, but it would freakin' break something if he scared him off.

"I-" Well. Now or never. "do actually. That was adorable Alfred." He closed his eyes as he said it, a habit he picked up from his Papa. As he turned back to the screen, he felt a sudden weight on him – and it wasn't all that uncomfortable... He jerked his head around to see Alfred hovering above him, a smile plastered from ear to ear. He'd been tackled and pinned.

"I got something to tell you Mattie, and don't laugh," his bottom lip poked out with that last phrase and he was suddenly rather serious. There wasn't any light dancing off his eyes or his glasses from this angle. But you could see the glow on his hair around his face. Alfred was possibly the most erotic angel he'd ever seen, "I'm gay."

The only fathomable reaction Matt could manage was a nod. His insides were too busy processing. His stomach was gooey and there were about a thousand butterflies hammering the insides on his chest wanting to bask in the glory of the moment. His heart was pounding, trying to supply blood to his brain as it tried to make logic out of the most illogical situation. Aside from that, some other organ was doing flip flops of joy, trying to pick which corny romantic things it wanted him to do. His brain had rather detached itself and his mouth had been given the fire-at-will command.

"I am too."

By now, all he managed to make sense of was that this statement made Alfred smile, his eyes got darker and soon Matthew's mouth was relatively busy being massaged. Someone was making noise, and it wasn't just Alfred, because Matt's systems had shut down completely and his other mildly intelligent organs were leading the way. And eh,that was juuuust fine.

A/N:Oh the cheese. Get it away, it buuuurns! XD I hope you guys like this~ It took maybe two hours to write, another day to go back and re-read it myself. I even had a beta reader this time. I'ma so happeh. This was fun to write, and honestly based of a little of my own life for once. 3

Happy Wednesday!

-RHT