This one's for you, christinemay.

xoxox

Matthew knew perfectly well how lonely it could be, entering a new school in a new land where you didn't understand the language. When he had first come to America, he spoke only French with a few words of English on the side. Because of that, the children at kindergarten avoided him, ignored him, thought him to be weird. He could speak English now, but the damage was already done.

And that was exactly the reason little Matthew had taken it upon himself to be friends with Ivan.

Ivan was a foreigner, only just arrived from Russia. And he didn't speak a single word English. The other kids were already wary of him, were already avoiding him like the plague. Matthew didn't want this stranger ending up the same way he did. He knew how lonely it could be, and didn't wish that upon anyone else.

So without hesitating, the little Canadian marched up to Ivan.

"Bonjour, I'm Matthew. Nice to meet you, Ivan."

The boy looked at him with big eyes, and Matthew noticed they had a pretty purple hue, much like his own. Only, where Matthew had more blue in his eyes, Ivan's were a bright lavender.

"Chto?" the Russian asked, furrowing his brow in confusion.

Matthew smiled gently, unfazed. He simply held out his hand, a gesture he had seen adults do very often when greeting new people.

"I help you learn English. Be my friend?"

He suddenly grew shy when Ivan kept staring at him, shrinking under his scrutinizing gaze. But then all of a sudden, the Russian smiled as well. His hand was taken with a lot more gusto than he'd expected, and Ivan shook it firmly.

"Matvey, da?"

"No no, Matthew! M-a-t-t-h-e-w."

"Matvey! Matvey, Matvey, Matvey!" Ivan giggled, and the Canadian couldn't help but join him at hearing that joyful sound.

And so their friendship begun.

They were an odd duo, Ivan and Matthew, Matthew and Ivan. They spoke to each other in Russian and French, somehow knowing what the other meant without having to understand. Matthew knew Ivan liked his plush polar bear, for he smiled and pointed excitedly at it while spouting his gibberish. Ivan in turn knew Matthew truly loved Maple syrup, for he had gotten really mad that one time someone tried to steal the bottle he'd brought with him.

Matthew was the one waiting for Ivan when their class had to do something outside, holding his hand and guiding him to the right place. Ivan was the one sticking up for Matthew when bullies tried to rip Kumajiro apart.

Ivan had a difficult time learning English. With no one that knew Russian, he could only guess at the meaning of some words. But Matthew was a patient teacher. Day in day out he would help the Russian discover new words, and very soon Ivan could name every object at their school. This did make for odd conversations.

"Flower" meant he wanted to be hugged, as there was a big teddy bear with a flower on its shirt in their classroom. "Scarf" meant he was cold, and wanted to sit closer to the heater while they coloured and made little craftworks. "Book" meant he liked listening to the sound of Matthew's voice, as their teacher often read a story from one of her books before school ended that day.

Matthew learnt to discover all these little meanings, and found himself to be truly happy with his friend. They were a pair, a duo, and together they would help Ivan find his own place here in the States. He didn't even understand more difficult concepts yet, like "outside" or "friendship" or "loneliness." But Matthew was determined to teach him.

It was exactly for that reason Matthew taught himself how to read. They didn't have to know that yet at school, but he wanted to find a better way to teach Ivan new words. If he could read English, learning new concepts would follow without a doubt.

"Mathieu? What are you doing, mon cher?"

Matthew looked up at his father with a smile, clutching a flashlight in one hand and a book in another.

"Reading, papa."

"You know how to read?" Francis asked, eyebrows shooting up in disbelief.

"Oui. I want to teach Ivan better English."

The Frenchman made a soft noise of understanding.

"All right then. Don't stay up too long, Mathieu. You can't play with your friend if you fall asleep."

"Oui, papa."

Francis closed the door with a smile.

They were an odd pair indeed.

xoxox

They stayed together throughout the entirety of kindergarten, Matthew slowly but steadily teaching Ivan all he needed to know. His vocabulary grew, and so did their friendship. Playing house and drawing pictures of each other, the first full sentence Ivan uttered being "Thank for friend, Matvey," which the Canadian silently translated into "Thank you for wanting to be friends with me when no one else would."

After kindergarten it was time for primary school. The two were overjoyed to meet each other again on the school bus, two young boys flying in each other's arms as soon as purplish eyes met.

"You're going to the same school I am!" Matthew exclaimed, smiling even when Ivan nearly crushed his bones in the tightest bear-hug he'd ever experienced.

"Da! More time for friend! Matvey, Matvey!"

Primary school was a lot like kindergarten. Hey ate lunch together, Matthew sharing his pancakes and Ivan giving him some of his pirozhki. In class they always stuck together, Matthew continuing to help Ivan with his English (which improved every single day, it seemed). They were truly inseparable.

Ivan kept defending Matthew when people made fun of him for bringing a plush to school, and Matthew defended Ivan when they made fun of his t-shirts with flower patterns. He knew the Russian loved flowers, and found nothing wrong with that.

They remained the best of friends until one specific day.

"Hey, they're holding hands! That's so gay!"

Matthew blushed at that, while Ivan looked at him with questioning eyes.

"What does gay mean?"

"It means you like boys…" Matthew quietly explained, having heard the word being used to describe his parents.

Ivan rolled his eyes up to the sky, contemplating the notion. Then he smiled.

"Then I am gay!"

Matthew jumped, staring at his friend with hanging jaw.

"You are? Since when?"

"Since always! I like you, da?"

Matthew's expression fell, and he shook his head.

"No, it's not like friends. It's when you love boys."

"Oh… Then I love you!"

Matthew shook his head a second time, looking exasperated.

"You can't. When you love someone, you kiss them and stuff."

Ivan's smile widened, and without further ado he planted his lips upon the Canadian's.

"There! Now I love you! Am I gay now?"

Matthew started laughing, hitting Ivan playfully on his arm.

The Russian had just stolen his first kiss. And frankly, he didn't mind at all.

As long as it was Ivan, he couldn't find it in him to mind.

xoxox

Ivan kept being his 'boyfriend' throughout primary school, and Matthew kept humouring him. Being lovers apparently wasn't much different from being friends, as they still did the exact same things. He figured he should tell Ivan that he couldn't be gay because just kissing somebody didn't mean you loved them, but thought saddened him somehow.

So their so-called relationship kept dragging on and on, neither of them doing anything about it. Until they started going to highschool that is.

Both boys had grown so much since their initial meeting. From toddlers to young teenagers, baby fat and weird proportions replaced by zits and braces. Unattractive, awkward.

And yet for some reason, a girl tried asking Ivan out on a date. He refused of course, informing her he was already in a relationship. Matthew made a stone of his heart and decided it was time to tell Ivan the truth.

"We have to stop telling everyone we're each other's boyfriend."

Ivan looked at him with big eyes.

"What? Why?"

Matthew felt his resolve waver when he saw the hurt in the Russian's eyes, but knew this was for the best.

"We're not children anymore. What if you find someone you truly love? I don't want to chase them away because they think you're gay."

"But I am."

Matthew shook his head resolutely.

"You're not. You think you are because we hang out all the time, but you're not. Let's just be friends again. And you go back to that girl and tell her you want a date with her."

"But I do not want a date with that girl. I want you."

Matthew smiled, refusing to let himself cry when a sudden wave of desperation washed over him.

"You want me as your friend. Which I already am. You know I'll never leave you, right?"

"…Right."

"But we can't always be together. You should try meeting new people. Only me isn't good for you. I want you to see new people."

Ivan's eyebrows shot up, and then his face fell.

"…I understand."

And after that they were friends again. Ivan did as told, and asked the girl out. Matthew was proud of him. He knew this was for the best.

Then why did his heart ache at seeing Ivan with somebody else?

xoxox

Three years went by. Three years of them being just friends, of Ivan going on dates with just about any girl at their school. Three years of Matthew being more jealous than he ever would have imagined.

It came as a sudden flash of realization, as if somebody punched him in the gut. He did like Ivan as more than a friend. He was gay after all. Good thing he'd sent Ivan away before realizing this. Now they could at least be friends.

Or so he thought.

Matthew was more than a little surprised to find Ivan in front of his bedroom door one particular evening, expression fierce and panting as if he'd run all the way to his house (which he probably had).

"Ivan? Is something wrong?"

"Da. Something is definitely wrong."

Ivan marched into his room without waiting for an invitation. Matthew didn't mind, as the Russian often dropped in at unexpected moments.

"I did everything you said. I have seen other people. A lot of them. But I still think I am gay."

This again.

Matthew sighed and closed the door behind him, not wanting his parents or brother to interfere.

"What makes you think that?"

"Because I want to do this."

The Canadian turned around just in time to see Ivan standing right in front of him. His eyes were blazing determination, and so close Matthew felt he could drown in them. Ivan gripped his shoulders and brought their faces close, and Matthew could taste his breath as he parted his lips.

Ivan kissed him. It was a short kiss, not much movement going on. Yet it sent a shot of scalding heat from his lips all the way down to his toes. When Ivan parted, Matthew was already longing to be kissed again. Ivan had already stolen his first kiss all those years ago, but Matthew knew it had only been an appetizer of this one.

"I have to be gay, Matvey. Because ever since you said you only wanted to be friends, I have longed to kiss you like this. Dreamed of it, even."

Matthew blushed redder than his father's roses and bowed his head. Ivan's eyes saddened.

"I am sorry, Matvey. I do not think we can be friends anymore."

The blond's head shot up again, eyes growing to be the size of satellite dishes.

"What?! But why-"

"We cannot be friends," Ivan continued. "But we can be lovers. It is that or nothing."

And so they became lovers.

xoxox

They remained an odd pair throughout highschool. Ivan and Matthew, Matthew and Ivan. They stayed together, both as best friends and now as boyfriends as well.

They stayed together when Matthew's braces got removed. When Ivan won against Matthew's brother on a science fair. And this time, when bullies called them names and laughed, they agreed with a whole-hearted "Yes, we are gay. Deal with it." Together they discovered sex, like they had discovered English before. Forever inseparable.

They remained an odd pair throughout college. Even when Ivan went to a college in the Southwest of the States and Matthew to the Northeast. They sent each other emails and old-fashioned love letters, kissing each other breathless whenever they met face to face.

Even after college they were still head over heels for each other. As Ivan began working in a garden business and Matthew began teaching French.

When Ivan told him "Ya lyublyu tebya," Matthew replied with "Je t'aime."

And when Ivan asked him for his hand in marriage, of course Matthew said yes.

xoxox

"Matvey?" Ivan asked, head nearly void of hair and hands trembling as he sat in his rocking chair, staring at the flaming orange sunset.

"Oui, mon cher?"

"Would you have come to me had I known English?"

"Would you have come to me if I hadn't come to you?" Matthew shot back, face wrinkled and eyes squinted behind his glasses.

Ivan smiled, and squeezed his hand. They both knew the answer was yes. There couldn't have been any other way.

For they were soulmates, forever to be an odd pair of Ivan and Matthew, Matthew and Ivan.

They had lived a good life together, these two.

And they were happy.