A/N: Oh my gosh! Is it! Could it truly be! YES IT IS! I have FINALLY updated this thing! OTL I am SOOOO SORRY! Now, I want all of you to go to The Fujoshi on FF and give her all your love, because her story (ironically named 'I'm Not Loving It') gave me motivation to actually kick my ass into gear. So love her with all your heart. Without further adieu, CHAPTER 7!

There were so many things he didn't know, so many things he wanted to know. Ivan kept so many things hidden from him, he wasn't open about everything and it was starting to upset Alfred. He understood that some things weren't happy memories that Ivan would love to talk about, but did that mean he didn't have a right to know? He had brought up his teacher's nighttime mutterings a grand total of once, not because he got an answer, but because the look in the elder man's eyes made him feel so guilty that he felt rather forced to back off from the subject. One couldn't blame him though; it riled up a bit of anger to hear another man's name on the Russian's lips. Who was Eduard anyway!

"Yo, Earth to Alfie?" a snappish voice cut into his thoughts. Blinking away the thoughts, he returned to see his lunch skewered and mashed all together. Ew; it did not look very appetizing. Looking up he saw his brother and Gilbert staring at him with raised brows. He totally forgot what they had been talking about before his mind started wandering.

"Damn it Al, you're so selfish sometimes!" Matthew growled, glaring at his brother with a weary eye. Honestly, Alfred had been ignoring him more and more since he got into a relationship with their teacher.

Gilbert snorted in a poor attempt of stifling a snicker, "You mean all the time, just more so since he thinks he's so grown up just because he fucked Mr. B."

"Excuse me?" Alfred's eyes narrowed.

Matthew slapped his forehead. Not only was his brother a total jerk, his boyfriend was equally stupid. "Gil . . . Cut the gas." Obediently, the albino hushed up, but kept his cheeky grin. "Alfred," Mattie continued, "We need to talk about this, but not here. Are you going to eat your . . . mush?"

Alfred frowned at his brother before standing up stiffly and throwing his ruined meal away and folding his arms, facing their table. Matthew sighed and followed after the other, giving a brief farewell to the irritating German at the table. Gilbert watched the two walk away in silence before disappearing out of the cafeteria. Great, now Gilbert was left all lonely and bored. He rested his head on the table and sighed. Why couldn't Mattie just be happy for Alfred, or better yet, Alfred act like the kid he was. Then people wouldn't be whispering about him.

"Excuse me, Gilbert?" a voice he knew only too well made him raise his head slightly. Damn it, why did it just have to be her!

"Yeah Liz?" he muttered, Elizabeta standing over him. She didn't even want him, and he didn't like her any more. He knew she was up to no good, especially with that conniving smile she wore. He would know it anywhere; he had inherited it from her after all.

Her hand gripped his shoulder, the manicured nails digging through the thin fabric of his summer shirt, "I couldn't help but overhear some crude, albeit interesting language over here at your table. Would you mind coming to my office and having a little chat with me?"

"You're fucking crazy," he pulled out of her bruising grasp, standing and walking away, "I've got nothing to say to you of all people. I do believe that the terms of you continuing to work at this school were that you would keep your hands to yourself." She watched him leave, glaring daggers at her son. He knew something and she wanted in on it. It had something to do with Ivan Braginsky and Alfred Bonnefoy and she would figure it out, with the help of her wretched child or not.

The two stood behind the classrooms, staring down each other, "Alfred, I've been trying to talk to you for a solid month now and every time I try to bring it up, I get cut off by something more important in your mind. Be it baseball practice or some other activity." The blue eyed twin stared at his brother, feeling extremely awkward. Mattie took a deep breath, "Alfie, I know about what's going on between you and you-know-who. I haven't told anyone but Gilbert, and he said he guessed as much. You don't ever really talk to me anymore. Where did my brother go?" He took the other's hand in his own and squeezed, catching the younger entirely off guard.

In all honesty, Alfred was ready to get a tongue-lashing, a skill Matthew inherited from their dad. He was also ready to argue and fight back, not get a lonely Mattie holding his hand and begging for attention. This was a new twist. "Mat . . . I-."

"And what the hell are you thinking! Do you want to get Ivan arrested for pedophilia!" the lavender eyed Bonnefoy hissed under his breath.

Alfred frowned and retracted his arm and folded both over his chest, "Stupid age differences. He's only eleven years older, and what does it matter if I love him? I mean, I am perfect for him! He's so shy and childish really, and he's scared Mattie. He's scare being here, in this country, away from his sisters. And he doesn't even tell me this stuff, I have to sit and watch him to figure it out. I have to know him like a well-read book to know when he's worried or nervous and it is so annoying! He thinks I'm too immature, that I'm a child, and I know I don't understand everything but he could at least let it out!" Frustrated, he slumped to the ground, leaning on the side of the building, glaring as he watched the other students hang out in the distance before resting his arms on his propped up knees and hiding the lower half of his face. "If he'd let me, I could protect him. I mean, you know he's got the Royal Shaft."

"Alfred," Matthew sighed, sitting beside his moody twin, "I understand that you always have to be the hero or whatever, but it seems that he feels better when you're just with him. And I'm sure he can take care of himself, he is an adult."

The blue eyed boy glared at his brother from the courner of his eyes, "Don't remind me. But you know me Mattie, I have to protect everyone I care for. I have to always be there for them and I have to be able to do something. He won't even let me try. I don't know what to think, does he not trust me? Does he just want to forget that stuff? I mean, he says the name of other men in his sleep! What am I supposed to think!"

"Well, he is older than us, and you need to be mature about this Al, so it does make sense that he would have past lovers, right?"

"And still dream about them?" Alfred hissed.

"Okay, I get what you mean," Matthew sighed and went back to thinking, "Well, I'm sure he still has memories about the war that are vivid, and he did say there were people he never saw again. It might be that he is reliving it in his dreams. Papa says Dad does that all the time. Remember the time Dad was asleep on the couch when we were little and he started muttering curse words in his sleep? Papa's face was priceless."

Alfred laughed a little, oh yes he remembered the scene well; "You have a point, but is it wrong for me to want to bug the hell out of him? I mean, I'm real gone for him. I want him to be my everything and I want to always be with him and this is starting to become a sticky, gooey rant. Ew." The two laughed and spent the rest of the lunch against the wall watching the other kids hang.

"So you really love him."

"Not a doubt in my mind."

"So no fast girls?" Mattie joked.

Alfred shook his head, a dreamy smile gracing his features, "Nope, I'm jacketed."

Matthew looked over his brother before suddenly tackling him to the concrete, trying to dig his knuckled into the other's scalp, laughing and whining. "Al you kookie odd-ball!" he chuckled as his brother wailed for a truce.

Her nails dug into his scalp as she pulled back his head to force the violet to meet her blazing green irises. She hated him, everything about him. The way he took everything she came at him with and how he made her feel downright evil. It was just his Red mind tricks at work to make him back off, but they were getting stronger. As it way, tears were pooling at the courners of his eyes, silently begging for release of her bruising hold. She almost did too, until she remembered who he was; what he was. As a Communist, she could never be certain what he was planning. Even if his hands lay in his lap, twitching to perform the instinctual task of prying her hand off, she didn't trust him a bit, but if he lashed back she could get him on assault.

"I know what you're trying to do," he hissed into his ear, "Trying to be innocent, be a victim, and all you're planning to do is destroy what peace we have here. And picking on the Bonnefoy family; lying to their faces and making them feel safe with the likes of you. I cannot imagine how you live with yourself. Perhaps your kind truly has no conscious."

A whine was smothered in his throat as her hand twisted, "Ms. Héderváry, I-I have a class in a moment . . ." His voice was soft, though the tremors were easily discernable. As if to prove a point, the bell rang for the end of the lunch period. She released his ashen hair, her blood boiling. He stood and gave a timid smile; his sister always insisted he treated even those who hated him with kindness. He could hear the teenagers gathering outside the closed door, even hear muffled questioning voices. He always had his door open after lunch, though it was obvious why he didn't have the luxury today. Her hand lashed out, slapping the young man across the face for good measure.

"I will have you removed from the town, just watch me," she hissed before her heels clacked away, sharp as her tongue. She pushed herself through the door and the hall filled with his students went quiet. Even a blind person could tell that she was not in a mood to be addressed. Gilbert glared at the woman as she passed as the students watched her.

"Children," Ivan's voice called them back, "Come and take your seats. We have much to go over today." Alfred heard the stress in his voice, and was the first through the door to see his beloved teacher. Anger gripped his chest, absolute rage and a crushing pain. His blue eyes honed in on the three nail marks that cut into the soft skin of his cheek, slender tendrils of blood mixing. He wasn't the only student either; there was absolute silence in the classroom as everyone stood at the door. Ivan looked at them questioningly before his hand flew to where he had been slapped, pulling back with thin sheen of scarlet. He blinked in surprise before smiling reassuringly, "It is nothing a band-aid cannot fix. Take your seats everyone, it's fine."

"Boys," Arthur broached on the drive back home, "Are you two feeling well? You've been silent this entire time."

Before Matthew could divert the conversation, Alfred snapped at the bait, "Yes there's something wrong! Why can't Ms. Héderváry leave Ivan alone! What is her problem, why does she hate him so much? What did he ever do to that hag? Do you know she hit him today, right before class too? He was bleeding from her banshee nails!"

Arthur's eyes widened at the news. He knew Elizabeta was, to put it nicely, conservative, that was taking it too far. To hit the poor man when he's only trying to do his job, what was she thinking? Especially with how upset the twins were, and Alfred was obviously infuriated over the event. In effect, it upset Arthur twice as much. "I will call Ludwig on the matter. The bloody hell does that woman think she's doing?"

The last week of school had been so very calm, especially after that scenario the week before. Ivan smiled as the teenagers in his class talked happily with each other, many coming up and wishing him a happy summer. Some even bringing presents for him, mostly food. He sat on his desk and Alfred beside him, pressed snuggly to his side. He liked seeing Ivan without his scarf all the time, it made him look more open. Their hands were discreetly placed on one another behind their bodies, since no one was allowed behind the teacher's desk anyway. It was only the first period and so much energy in one sitting was absolutely exhilarating. Mornings with Ivan were always pleasant, but the hyper levels were bouncing off the charts.

"Dad and Papa wanted to invite you to a picnic next week, Gilbert and his dad are going to be there too and everything is going to be awesome," Alfred explained cheerfully before looking to his teacher, "And I'll be graduating this time next year."

Ivan smiled and hummed in contentment, "But not until your eighteenth birthday."

"And I will be getting awesome birthday s-."

"Mr. Braginsky," the small Swiss girl said sweetly, holing a box with a ribbon tied around it, "I made these for you. I hope you have a wonderful summer."

Ivan detached himself from Alfred and took the box from the blonde girl, "Thank you very much Lily. I hope you enjoy your summer as well." She giggled and gave him a quick hug, all the girls did and it was rather irritating to Alfred that he couldn't do the same in public without getting those weird stares his parents got whenever they left the safety of their town on trips and such. Of course, it would be weird for Ivan too, since he had to play the role of an adult at school. The girl retreated and Ivan placed the box on the desk behind him before the two returned to their previous position.

"Alfred," Ivan scolded lightly, "we don't talk about that here."

Alfred waved it off, "I know, I know. I got carried away. But you know what I mean."

"Of course I do," Ivan teased, pinching the teenager's wrist playfully, "And yes. You will get a present for your birthday." The bell rang and the students all waved farewell as they left to their next class. Before the next class arrived, Alfred cupped Ivan's chin between his fingers and gave him a delicate kiss on the lips. Ivan's eyes fluttered closed and they shared the moment.

A feeling crept up Alfred's spine as it slowly deepened, the chance of getting caught was so tempting, "Ivan," he panted, pulling close only to be pushed back.

"You have class," Ivan sighed, panting as well.

Groaning Alfred jumped off the desk and grabbed his bag before turning back at the door, "When though? You suddenly became prude!" A book flew toward the American as he ducked behind the door laughing, "I got it, I got it! I'm going!"