It had been years.
Arthur had moved away from their old house, taking Matthew with him.  Alfred, old enough to go to college and wanting to go to the one in that town, had stayed.
Matthew was finally old enough to go as well and also decided to go to college there.  Alfred had offered to let him stay in his house.
And that’s were Matthew was now, finishing his last pancake on a nice Saturday morning.
“Matthew!”
Matthew turned in his seat at the sound of his name.  Alfred was standing there, looking like he was going to go somewhere.
Matthew soon found himself in a hug, but he made no attempt to escape.  He loved getting hugs from his older brother, knowing that he would never again get anything more.
It had been years, but Matthew still remembered Alfred’s touch in his dreams.
The hug ended much too soon, in Matthew’s opinion, but he said nothing about it.
“I’m going out today with Josefina,” Alfred said, “So you have the whole place to yourself!  No parties though.”
Matthew did not like Alfred’s girlfriend, Josefina, but then again he doubted that he would like anyone with Alfred.
He wanted Alfred.
“It’s not like I have enough friends to have a party,” Matthew pointed out.  Really, his only friends were Alfred and Cuba – as he insisted on being called – and the Russian student, Ivan, was sort of his friend.  But it was hard to tell what Ivan was thinking at any given moment.
Alfred scowled at Matthew’s pessimism.
“Don’t say things like that!”
“Well, it’s true.”
Alfred was just about to retort when the doorbell rang.
“Oh, that’s probably Josefina.  See ya, Matthew!”
Matthew just nodded, and sighed heavily when the door closed.
Much to his surprise, the phone rang not more than five minutes later.
Matthew picked it up, wondering if it was Alfred, and said timidly,
“Hello?”
“You’re depressed.  Why?”
It was Cuba.  Matthew was used to his best friend being able tell at just one word what Matthew’s mood was, although sometimes, like today it surprised him.  It really was a strange ability.  He could not tell Alfred and Matthew apart by sight, until they talked.
“N-no reason; I’m not.” He denied.
Matthew could hear Cuba sigh, even if it was quiet, and not meant for him to hear.
“I’ll be over in a few, no killing yourself in the meantime.”
Matthew opened his mouth to protest, but the phone had already been hung up.  A few minutes later, the doorbell rang again.  Matthew opened it and was not surprised to Cuba.
“Alfred!  I need to talk-”
“I’m Matthew.”
“Oh, I’m sorry Matthew!”
“It’s okay,” Matthew moved aside to let Cuba in, “I’m used to it.”
Cuba closed the door behind him and said,
“So what’s wrong?”
Matthew walked into the living room, looking down at the floor and avoiding Cuba’s eyes.  Cuba followed.
“Nothing’s wrong.”
Matthew was suddenly pulled into a hug.
“Then why do you sound so sad?”
Matthew sighed lightly.
“My brother…  He’s in love with someone.  And I want him to be in love with me.”
“Matthew, hey, I forgot-” Alfred’s voice trailed off at the sight of Matthew and Cuba hugging.  Matthew shut his eyes tight and refused to look at Alfred.
“I’ll just go grab my wallet.” He was quiet for once, walking past them.  Cuba hugged Matthew tighter.  Alfred returned from wherever in the house he had vanished to.
He ignored them as he walked by, and the door was slammed closed.  Matthew flinched.
---------
Alfred did not return until very late the next night.  Matthew had just finished writing an essay, and the door opening surprised him.
“Alfred, you’re home!”
Alfred glared at Matthew in a way that sent shivers down his spine.
“A-Alfred?”
Alfred grabbed Matthew’s shoulders and pushed him up against a wall.
“Why were you hugging that man?”
“C-Cuba?  Be-becau-” Matthew was cut off by Alfred’s lips.  Matthew pushed on Alfred’s chest.
I don’t want to say I’m sorry again.
“Alfred, don’t!”
Alfred pulled away.  His right hand moved away from Matthew’s shoulder and cupped Matthew’s cheek.
“I love you.”
“No, you don’t.  You’re drunk.  And if you love me, why are you going out with Josefina?”
“Because I can’t tell you.  Because I can’t tell Arthur.  Because I’m running away from it.”
Alfred kissed Matthew again, his hand returning to Matthew’s shoulder.  Matthew pushed Alfred’s chest very hard, and Alfred was wrenched away.
“Don’t Alfred!  Don’t use my love for you against me!”
Matthew ran to his room, closing the door behind him.  Alfred did not go after him.
The next day, a Saturday, Matthew stayed in his room.  About 5 in the afternoon, Alfred knocked on the door.
“Matthew.  I’m sorry.  I… I really do love you, Matthew.  I shouldn’t have.  A-again.  God, I’m such an idiot.”
The door opened slowly.
Don’t worry.
Matthew hugged his brother, looking up at him with red, puffy eyes.  Alfred returned the hug, surprised.
“Ma-Matthew?”
“I love you too,” Matthew said, a blush spreading across his cheeks.  Alfred kissed Matthew on the forehead.
“I broke up with Josefina last night, before I came home,” Alfred whispered, “Are you going out with-”
“I was never going out with Cuba.”
Alfred kissed Matthew on the lips, not drunk this time.
You never had to say sorry in the first place.