Don't hate Arthur too much, you guys. He's just trying to be a responsible parent. And you can't blame him for being worried. XD And for the people who thought Lars would hop on a plane and follow him, tough chance. He doesn't really have the money, and it's not like he would be welcomed there. Besides, the Angst tag is there for a reason.
But at least there's fluff in this chapter? 8D And I'm thinking of doing a Halloween oneshot, since I love their costume designs so much. It will probably be late, because I'm slow, but yeah. I'll try to get it done at least. XD
The whole trip home Matthew didn't speak another word, apart from the absolutely necessary. And as if he didn't feel bad enough, Arthur felt the need to continuously lecture him about what he'd done. How stupid he had been to do this, how much money Arthur had to waste to come get him (which Matthew answered in his head with "You shouldn't have bothered."), and more that Matthew really didn't want to hear right now.
He looked out the window and managed to tune out Arthur for the most part. One thought never really left his mind; if only he had agreed to stay at Lars' place sooner, his father probably wouldn't have found him that easily.
He knew he had to leave Lars and go home eventually, but this certainly wasn't the way he had ever hoped to go. Especially not since he had planned to stay at least until the end of the summer. They didn't even have time for a proper goodbye. And oh, the ways in which he had wanted to say goodbye. He couldn't do any of that now.
Arthur elbowed him in his side and Matthew looked around. "Fasten your seatbelt," He instructed.
Matthew looked up and saw that the seatbelt light had jumped on, which meant they were about to take off. He fastened his seatbelt with much reluctance, playing with the thought that if he would refuse maybe they would kick him off the plane.
With the queasy feeling he already had in his stomach, the take off didn't go over particularly well for the Canadian. In fact, he could only just grab a paper bag in time to empty the contents of his stomach in, earning him another disapproving look.
During the rest of the flight Matthew got some time to himself, since Arthur (who should still had to be suffering from the jetlag of his previous flight) was sleeping soundly in the chair next to him. The uneasy feeling in his stomach kept him from getting any sleep himself. He just looked out the window to take his mind off things, but the Dutchman never left his thoughts.
He wondered how the other felt about this. Was he as upset as Matthew was? Perhaps he would just shrug it off and get on with his life. What had Matthew even meant to him? Back in the Netherlands it had been pretty obvious that they were a couple, even though they had never really agreed on anything out loud. It just felt natural to be together. He hadn't even ever told Lars he loved him, neither the other way around. There didn't seem a need to at that moment. They just let their actions speak for them.
Only that left Matthew to wonder now. Had he really been just a shag to Lars? Now that he thought about this, that sounded very much possible. He wasn't all that handsome, or talented, or interesting even. Not to mention that he couldn't stay with Lars forever. How could he have been more than a convenient shag?
Matthew mentally slapped himself for these thoughts. He shouldn't soil his memories like that. Thoughts like these were hard to stop though. He decided he would call Lars the first chance he got.
When Francis came to pick them up from the airport, he gave Matthew a quiet apology, because Arthur would certainly disagree with that. "I'm sorry, Mathieu. I tried."
Matthew shook his head. It wasn't Francis' fault.
A while later he came home to a brother who also seemed to be upset with him. "You didn't even bring me a souvenir?" He had asked. And Matthew mentally cursed at how simpleminded Alfred could be sometimes.
He didn't really come down from his room except for dinner. It wasn't like he was allowed to go anywhere anyway. His phone and computer had been confiscated, so he either spent his days by reading or blankly staring at the ceiling.
His backpack still laid unpacked in a corner of his room. Eventually he got sick of having to look at it though, so he decided it was time for some unpacking. This was easier said than done. The unpacking itself wasn't that much work, but the memories certain items brought with them made it harder. He avoided his photo camera all together, he knew it was just full of pictures of him and Lars anyway. Though that effort proved futile when he found some pictures they had made in a photo booth.
The next thing he pulled out was a shirt. An orange one, way too big to belong to himself. He had borrowed it from Lars at some point, and apparently never returned it. That had been the same day as those pictures actually, he recalled. He brought the shirt to his face. He could still smell the other's scent on the fabric.
Their hands intertwined, arms swinging slightly, they walked through the streets of Amsterdam. Matthew couldn't get enough of it. All the buildings looked so pretty and old. It was unlike anything he saw when he was home.
They got to a beautiful fountain. Lars had to smile at the way Matthew looked at it.
Matthew spotted a photo booth and tugged on Lars' arm and pointed at it. "Let's do that."
Lars chuckled. "Don't you have enough pictures yet?" Though he followed the Canadian into the booth.
They had to sit close together in the small room, but neither of them really minded that. Matthew put a coin in. "Smile," He said. They were slightly blinded by the flash it made. Though by the time of the second flash neither of them was smiling anymore. This was because Lars had grabbed Matthew's chin and occupied his lips with something better than smiling. Matthew blushed brightly. "Lars!" He quickly looked around, only to find out that nobody could see them because of the curtain anyway.
Lars laughed softly, practically pulled him onto his lap and kissed him again. They fooled around a little bit with some kisses and a few touches, but Matthew wasn't very comfortable with doing this here. Eventually he led them out of the booth with bright red cheeks. Cheeks which turned even redder at seeing that some of what they'd been doing had been caught on camera. Lars just seemed amused as he pocketed the pictures.
He and Matthew sat by the edge of the fountain for a while, sharing some ice cream and playfully splashing each other with water. That is, until Matthew lost his balance and toppled backwards into the water. He surfaced, gasping for air and scrambled out of the fountain. The first thing he registered after he did so was Lars. Who was laughing. Very hard.
"D-don't laugh!" Matthew wanted to yell at him, but it only came out in a soft voice. It also had no effect on the Dutchman, who continued to laugh at him for another good few minutes before standing and patting Matthew on the shoulder. The grin on his face never left though, which earned him a slight punch in the shoulder.
"Sorry," He said, but didn't sound that way.
"Fuck you," Matthew pouted as he tried to squeeze the water out of his shirt.
Lars chuckled. "That can be arranged," He moved in closer to the Canadian, wrapping an arm around his waist and getting his own clothes slightly wet in the process, a mischievous smile on his face. He placed a kiss on his cheek, then moved his lips to his ear and whispered against it. "Let's go back to my place and I'll help you out of those clothes."
Matthew gave him a light push. "Pervert," He said, but didn't object when Lars lead him away from the fountain.
As soon as they got to Lars' place and the door closed behind them, Matthew started to remove his clothes. He had to get into something dry soon, but didn't want to drip over the whole floor. He knew how sensitive the Dutchman was about keeping things clean. It took him a moment or two to realize he had a spectator. As he dropped his shirt on the floor he saw Lars was watching him with a smug smirk on his face, clearly enjoying the show.
Apparently he took the blush which appeared on Matthew's face at this as an invitation to the undressing-fest. With no more than two strides, he closed in on Matthew and backed him up against the wall. The Canadian gasped slightly as he felt the other toy with the hem of his pants. Lars took this opportunity to bring their lips together and let his tongue invade Matthew's mouth. Matthew hummed into the kiss approvingly. As Lars undid his belt, Matthew worked on getting rid of the Dutchman's shirt. They broke the kiss momentarily so he could pull the slightly damp thing over his head.
Lars showered Matthew's neck and collarbone in small kisses, revelling in the little sounds he was awarded with. A shiver ran through Matthew's body, reminding Lars of the fact that he was still cold and wet. "You should take a shower," He said as he backed off the other a bit.
Matthew gave him a small mischievous smile. "Then what are we waiting for?" He gently took Lars' hand and pulled him in the direction of the bathroom.
On the way they shed the rest of their clothing. Their bodies were pressed close together in the small shower stall, their hands exploring each other as the warm water washed over them. Lars moaned loudly as Matthew's fingers brushed past his cock. He kissed the boy hard, starting to stroke his member in return.
Matthew gasped for air. The small steamy room with Lars in such close proximity made him slightly dizzy and he felt his legs go weak. It was a good thing the other had such a strong hold on him. It wasn't long until the heat became too much and he came all over Lars' hands. The Dutchman wasn't far behind.
For a while they merely stood in each other's arms, catching their breath and letting the hot water clean them off. They shared a few sweet kisses before washing up quickly and stepping out of the shower.
Lars handed Matthew a towel. "I'll see if I got something that'll fit you," A small smirk formed on the Dutchman's lips. "Unless you'd rather walk around like this."
Matthew could see that Lars wouldn't have any problem with that last option at all. He shook his head. "I'd like some clothes, please."
Most of Lars' clothes were way too big for Matthew, but he managed to find an old orange shirt and some boxers that wouldn't be too bad. They were still rather baggy on him, but it'd do for now.
They popped in a movie and spent the evening cuddling on the couch. Matthew couldn't help but fiddle with Lars' hair, despite knowing the Dutchman's dislike of people messing with it. "It's so soft now you haven't got it all gelled up," Surprisingly, Lars didn't shake his hand off and just shrugged. Matthew took this as an invitation to continue. Lars turned out to enjoy feeling the other's hands run through his hair. His head was leaning comfortably onto Matthew's chest. The film had ended already without them noticing, and the sky had turned dark.
"You want to stay here tonight?" Lars offered.
Matthew hesitated. "Isn't it a little pointless to get a room in a hotel if I don't sleep there?"
"Just call them and say you're spending the rest of your holiday here."
Matthew chuckled, until he caught the look in Lars' eyes and realized he was being completely serious. "Wait, what... really?"
Lars nodded. "Your clothes are still wet, and you can't go back to the hotel in my boxers. Stay here tonight at least."
Matthew nodded a bit shyly. "I'll think about it, but I'll stay for now," he leaned down to give Lars a peck on his lips, which the Dutchman happily accepted.
Tears had started to roll over Matthew's cheeks. He clung to the fabric for dear life. Heavy sobs made his body shake as he tried to keep it down so nobody would hear him. He grabbed his large stuffed polar bear and pressed his face into its fur.
He could've stayed there for a long time, hours maybe even. That is, if there hadn't been a knock to his door right then. Matthew tried to choke his sobs back and wipe his tears away. Not that it was any use, it was obvious that he was crying and the tears just kept coming. So when Francis stepped into the room and saw his boy like that, he sat down next to him and took him into his arms.
"Oh Mathieu. Shhh, it's alright," The Frenchman spoke soothing words as he rocked them back and forth. He stroked Matthew's back and just let him cry in his arms until he calmed down.
"I'm sorry," Matthew said, even though he wasn't sure for what. Call it a force of habit.
"Me too, Mathieu," His father answered. Francis spotted the strip of slightly crumpled photo's in Matthew's fingers and gently took them from him. He raised an elegant eyebrow as he looked at the pictures. "You hadn't told me he was this handsome."
A light blush appeared on Matthew's face. "...Yeah."
Francis glanced at the door before taking his cell phone out of his pocket and pushing it into Matthew's hands. "Call him."
"Wh-what?" Matthew uttered in surprise.
"Call him," He repeated. "Don't let Arthur see you though. He'd kill me."
Matthew looked at the phone in his hands with doubt. "I can't just call him. He doesn't want to speak to me."
"But Mathieu, don't say that. It wasn't your choice to leave." He lightly stroked Matthew's hair.
"He probably forgot all about me already," Matthew hoped this wasn't true. Hell, he practically begged to every god he knew that this wasn't the case. And even though he knew Lars didn't have a way of contacting him, he couldn't help but feel just a bit abandoned.
"No, he hasn't. I'm sure he'd be heartbroken if he didn't hear from you again," Francis placed a soft kiss on his forehead and walked to the door, looking back before leaving to give Matthew a small wink. "I know I'd be."