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"Well you might as well make yourself comfortable, or were you planning on staying like this?" Matthew asked dryly, a smirk twisting his lips. Ivan blinked, becoming aware of their proximity. He stood directly in front of Matthew, close enough to feel the heat radiating off of his slender form. Blushing, Ivan reluctantly took a step back.

"Da," he mumbled and took back his previous seat at he table. Matthew, instead of leaning on the counter, hopped up on it, wiggling around to find a comfortable place on its ceramic surface. Once settled, he folded his hands in his lap and threw Ivan another crooked smile.

"You ready?"

"As I'll ever be," the Russian answered. Shortly after, the blond began.

~Matthew~

I ran faster than I ever had in my entire life. The tears in my eyes were so thick I had to trust my feet to carry me to my destination. The pounding on the ground became a methodic beat in my ears which was soon accompanied by the rain that began to fall-

"How…" Ivan began noncommittally.

"Stereotypical?" Matthew offered. "Yes, yes it was. I might have laughed had I been in any other situation."

"I'm sorry," Ivan replied guiltily.

Matthew smiled gently. "It's fine. Thinking back on it now, I guess it's actually pretty funny…" He laughed lightly to himself. His gaze shifted to Ivan, who nodded for him to continue.

By the time I stopped running I realized I had made my way to the outskirts of town. I shivered as the rain seeped through my clothes. I wiped the mixture of tears and rain from my eyes, finally becoming aware of where I was.

I looked up, seeing the drenched outline of a building. The rusty, abandoned structure stood hollow in the storm. I suppose I affiliated myself with it, because not moments later, I found myself pulling open the old iron doors. They groaned and creaked from lack of use, a sound that echoed through the metallic space. From the looks of it, it was an old warehouse, for what or whom I didn't know, but the vague outline of crunched metal awaited me in the darkness. The lighting from outside cast flashing beams of light through the various holes that decorated the ceiling. As I took hesitant steps forward, I glanced around at the foreboding content of the space.

Mangled iron beams jutted out from both the walls and the ground. Chains that had been used for god-knows-what lay strewn about in piles, while other sharp looking objects adorned the room. The almost horror-movie like scene sent shivers up my spine.

I jumped when something brushed past my leg. Not bothering to suppress my squeal, I looked down in horror. The emotion quickly faded when I realized what it was. My pet polar bear, Kumajiro, pawed lightly at my faded jeans, looking at me with a concerned expression.

"Wait, wait, wait." Ivan stopped him for a moment. "Did you just say 'polar bear'?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes," Matthew deadpanned.

"Your pet polar bear."

"Yes."

"…Carry on then."

Matthew eyed him curiously, obviously finding nothing odd about having an arctic creature for a pet. Ivan stared back at him. Must be a Canadian thing…he thought. A moment later, Matthew continued.

"As I was saying…"

Kumajiro pawed at me curiously. He must have followed me here, I thought. At the sight of my old friend, I broke down again. I picked him up, clutching him close to my chest as I cried.

"He just…and they…" My broken sentences came out as barely audible whispers. I didn't care that my glasses were getting smudged, I didn't even care that I could be arrested for trespassing, all I wanted was to cry. My whole body shook and I sunk to my knees. Kumajiro squirmed, loosening my iron grip, and looked me in the eye before licking some of the stray tears from my cheek. I traced my fingers through his white fur, more to comfort myself than him.

Muffled, yet audible, yells could be heard outside. But I paid them no head. The familiar tenor timbre was not something I wanted to hear right now. I cringed when that voice reached the doorway.

"Birdie…" Gilbert stood at the door, panting and rain-soaked. I refused to turn to meet his gaze. I remained on the floor, staring at the dirt, willing the fresh tears from my eyes. The crunch of his shoes became louder as he neared the place where I sat.

"Matthew…" he tried again. I heard a rustle behind me, knowing he had reached out to touch me. Not finding it in his heart to do so however, he crouched next to me in the dirt.

I began to absentmindedly stroke Kumajiro's fur while my other arm wrapped itself protectively around my knees. In my peripheral vision, I saw him try to form words that just wouldn't come out.

I cut him off. "What."

"Huh?" he answered dumbly.

"What could you possibly have to say to me after that? What excuse could you possibly give me that would make what just happened okay?"

Gilbert flinched at the biting venom in my voice. "Mattie I'm sorry-"

"Sorry?" I stood up now, fire blazing in my eyes. "You think a simple apology is going to make all of this better?" The albino stared at me in a loss for words. I could slowly feel the pain in my chest turning to rage as I stared down at my boyfriend's pathetically guilty face. I practically spat my next words. "How long?"

"What do you mea-"

"How fucking long have the two of you been sleeping together?"

He bowed his head, refusing to look me in the eye. "A few months." He answered quietly.

Blind fury coursed through my veins, so much that it cut my words short. I stood there, hands balled into fists, staring at him as the words sunk in. I couldn't even bother to ask 'why'. I didn't want to know, it was too much already.

Gilbert finally stood, rubbing the back of his neck. "You-…you weren't supposed to find out like this."

"And how the fuck was I supposed to find something like this out?"

Gilbert didn't answer. Instead, a tense silence filled the room, clashes of thunder the only sound breaking the atmosphere. "Mattie, please come home. We can talk about this in a more civilized manner."

"Civilized? You want to talk to me about being civilized?" My voice rose in pitch, becoming hysterical.

He reached forward to grab my arms. "Birdie, please listen-"

With a loud, and almost soothing sound, my palm made contact with his face in a harsh slap. "Don't fucking touch me. Just get out." And for a moment, it looked like that was going to be the end of it. His hands left my arms, just barely ghosting over my flesh as he did so. He turned away from me and headed for the door. All the while, I stared at the hand I had slapped him with, remembering the feeling of when it made brutal contact with the plush skin of his cheek. Kumajiro nudged me from his position on the ground, and as I stared into the black orbs of his eyes, a sudden rush washed over me. I clenched my fist and spoke to my pet in a low voice. "Kuma…" the bear's ears perked up at the sound of his name. "Sick 'em."

Black orbs blinked in understanding and a low growl escaped Kumajiro's throat. The bear took off and Gilbert had little time to even look behind him before sharp claws collided with the side of his head, effectively knocking him unconscious.

I approached him slowly, marveling at the blood that gushed from his wound. His white hair seemed to be made for the red gems that now decorated it. I lifted his head from the ground, smiling softly. He's wearing a crown of his own blood.

"How poetic…" I muttered. My fingers touched the crimson liquid as the smile fell from my face. "How pathetic." In one swift movement, I grabbed him by his hair and dragged him along the dirt floor. I eyed the space around me, finally seeing the tools I had at my disposal. My head snapped back to look at my bear, now my partner in crime so to speak. "Come on Kuma, we're not done yet."

He groaned, his voice long, drawn out, and painful. Gilbert's head twitched, trying to rouse himself back into consciousness. He blinked, eyes stinging from the light shining on him from some unknown source. Another muffled groan escaped his lips and the silence afterwards gave way to the light scuffling of my shoes. His eyes snapped open, senses springing to life. The bewildered German finally became aware of his surroundings.

Gilbert hung by his hands in the centre of the filthy room, completely nude. The long string of chain that bound his wrists was tied to a rusted pipe in the ceiling, suspending him above the ground. The rusted lamp above him cast a dull sheen around the warehouse, its presence blinding him to the rest of the space.

His voice sounded hoarse in his throat. "What the fuck…"

My own voice sounded sickeningly sweet. "You're finally awake then, love?"

Gilbert's eyes struggled to focus in the light. "M-Mattie?"

I stepped into his line of sight, an arms length away from him. A small smile still clung to my face, though I was fully aware of how puffy my eyes must have been. But I was done crying now.

Gilbert tried again. "Mattie what's going on?"

I closed the distance between us, wrapping my arms around his bareback. "Are you sure you're okay? You took a nasty spill…" Gilbert was suddenly very aware of the thick oozing substance that was starting to dry on the side of his head. I watched his eyes widen as dread began to pool at the base of his stomach. I started to absentmindedly stroke his pale skin.

"Mattie what's going on?" he managed to get out smoothly, fear creeping into his words.

I chuckled. "You tell me. You're a very smart when you're not fucking my father." Sugar seemed to drip from my words, I sounded so sweet. Beneath his rib cage, I felt Gilbert's heart begin to beat faster.

He swallowed. " Matthew, let me go."

"Oh but I cant do that! You're barely conscious and bleeding, and we haven't had our fun yet." I paused, chuckling as I surveyed his body. "Plus I don't think you're in any condition to be running around town," I said, letting my eyes roam freely over Gilbert's naked form.

The German's red eyes widened in horror as my hands began to wander, my gaze hungrily devouring him. Gilbert began struggling against his bonds in vain, clear panic beginning to rise within him.

"Matthew this is fucking insane, let me go!"

This earned him a steely glare and slap to the face. "Don't you tell me what to do, I'd hate to have to ruin that beautiful face of yours."

Gilbert's words died in his throat in sheer terror. Finally, he spit up a string of semi-coherent words, staring at me all the while. "What are you going to do to me…?"

"I don't know," I answered. "But I can tell you two things. One-" I cupped Gilbert's cheek gently. "It's going to hurt, a lot. And two…you are probably going to die." My voice took on the tone as if I were speaking to a child. Tears welled up in the German's eyes and my smile widened. "Don't cry, love."

I backed away, shrinking back into the darkness to retrieve something. Out of his sight, my cheerful façade melted away. What am I doing? I repeatedly asked myself. I am not this person, what the hell am I doing? My hands started to shake as I looked around. It's too late to go back now…I have to go through with this. I glanced down at Kumajiro. He just sat there with his head cocked to the side. I looked to his right, seeing Gilbert's clothing in a jumbled heap. I picked up the jeans that Kuma had begun to paw at and noticed that, firstly, they were my Papa's, and second that a long, brown belt still hung loosely in the loops. I practically ripped the leather from its confines, accidentally hitting myself on the arm in the process. I winced at the pain but then stopped. For a few brief moments I glanced between my arm and the belt. I failed to force down a crazed smile that my lips had started to become all too accustomed to. I patted my bear on the head before turning back to…what do I even call him now? My boyfriend, my ex, my victim…? No, victim seemed to real, too incriminating. Yet all the same it felt powerful. It filled me with a sense of control I'd never felt before.

I reemerged in the lamp light before Gilbert, brandishing my new weapon and mindset. I advanced on him, masking my face with the old chipper expression. "I was thinking of starting with something a little more blunt, but I felt it might be too soon for that." My index finger traced the outline of the worn belt idly. "But this will do nicely."

Gilbert's struggles began to intensify. He attempted to rouse his limbs from painful slumber, thrashing about despite the constant throbbing that was sure to be pounding in his skull. I had to admit it was rather humorous to watch, considering the best he could accomplish was a vague twitch in his legs, creating a dying, wiggling fish motion.

I paid this no mind, and I began to stroke the flesh of his waist with the course leather of the belt. For no other reason than I felt like it, I smacked the strap across his skin, earning me a sharp cry of pain from my ex and a lovely red mark on the snowy expanse in front of me. I grinned. I repeated the gesture a second and third time, delighted with the outcome each time. I slowly stared to circle Gilbert like a hawk, treating the belt like a whip, enjoying myself far too much for my own good.

I brought the leather down more forcefully, my confidence increasing with his screams. The blows became faster and harder, decorating pasty flesh and painting it red. The strap came down on the German's shoulder especially hard with a loud crack, and Gilbert screamed loud, his voice driven more by terror than pain. I frowned at this, then chuckled.

"You know I've always loved making you scream," I practically giggled. "I mean, generally not in this context but fun nonetheless." I traced Gilbert's throat with one slender finger. "And while I love hearing your voice, I'd hate for someone to come and find us. I've only just gotten started." With that said, I wrapped the belt around his neck, pulling the loop tighter until I heard Gilbert gasping for air. All the while he chanted a nonsensical string of, "No, no no no Mattie, please."

I sighed in exasperation. "Yes dear, yes."

The noises that escaped Gilbert's mouth were strangled whispering at best, significantly lower in volume due to his new collar. With that done, I scurried back into the darkness to retrieve my next object. There was the sickening sound of metal scrapping against concrete, and when I reappeared in front of Gilbert, I was carrying a crowbar.

"Here we are," I mumbled. The albino paled considerably, looking as if he were going to vomit. I smiled sweetly. "Let's begin."

Description
"Well you might as well make yourself comfortable, or were you planning on staying like this?" Matthew asked dryly, a smirk twisting his lips. Ivan blinked, becoming aware of their proximity. He stood directly in front of Matthew, close enough to feel the heat radiating off of his slender form. Blushing, Ivan reluctantly took a step back.

"Da," he mumbled and took back his previous seat at he table. Matthew, instead of leaning on the counter, hopped up on it, wiggling around to find a comfortable place on its ceramic surface. Once settled, he folded his hands in his lap and threw Ivan another crooked smile.

"You ready?"

"As I'll ever be," the Russian answered. Shortly after, the blond began.

~Matthew~

I ran faster than I ever had in my entire life. The tears in my eyes were so thick I had to trust my feet to carry me to my destination. The pounding on the ground became a methodic beat in my ears which was soon accompanied by the rain that began to fall-

"How…" Ivan began noncommittally.

"Stereotypical?" Matthew offered. "Yes, yes it was. I might have laughed had I been in any other situation."

"I'm sorry," Ivan replied guiltily.

Matthew smiled gently. "It's fine. Thinking back on it now, I guess it's actually pretty funny…" He laughed lightly to himself. His gaze shifted to Ivan, who nodded for him to continue.

By the time I stopped running I realized I had made my way to the outskirts of town. I shivered as the rain seeped through my clothes. I wiped the mixture of tears and rain from my eyes, finally becoming aware of where I was.

I looked up, seeing the drenched outline of a building. The rusty, abandoned structure stood hollow in the storm. I suppose I affiliated myself with it, because not moments later, I found myself pulling open the old iron doors. They groaned and creaked from lack of use, a sound that echoed through the metallic space. From the looks of it, it was an old warehouse, for what or whom I didn't know, but the vague outline of crunched metal awaited me in the darkness. The lighting from outside cast flashing beams of light through the various holes that decorated the ceiling. As I took hesitant steps forward, I glanced around at the foreboding content of the space.

Mangled iron beams jutted out from both the walls and the ground. Chains that had been used for god-knows-what lay strewn about in piles, while other sharp looking objects adorned the room. The almost horror-movie like scene sent shivers up my spine.

I jumped when something brushed past my leg. Not bothering to suppress my squeal, I looked down in horror. The emotion quickly faded when I realized what it was. My pet polar bear, Kumajiro, pawed lightly at my faded jeans, looking at me with a concerned expression.

"Wait, wait, wait." Ivan stopped him for a moment. "Did you just say 'polar bear'?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes," Matthew deadpanned.

"Your pet polar bear."

"Yes."

"…Carry on then."

Matthew eyed him curiously, obviously finding nothing odd about having an arctic creature for a pet. Ivan stared back at him. Must be a Canadian thing…he thought. A moment later, Matthew continued.

"As I was saying…"

Kumajiro pawed at me curiously. He must have followed me here, I thought. At the sight of my old friend, I broke down again. I picked him up, clutching him close to my chest as I cried.

"He just…and they…" My broken sentences came out as barely audible whispers. I didn't care that my glasses were getting smudged, I didn't even care that I could be arrested for trespassing, all I wanted was to cry. My whole body shook and I sunk to my knees. Kumajiro squirmed, loosening my iron grip, and looked me in the eye before licking some of the stray tears from my cheek. I traced my fingers through his white fur, more to comfort myself than him.

Muffled, yet audible, yells could be heard outside. But I paid them no head. The familiar tenor timbre was not something I wanted to hear right now. I cringed when that voice reached the doorway.

"Birdie…" Gilbert stood at the door, panting and rain-soaked. I refused to turn to meet his gaze. I remained on the floor, staring at the dirt, willing the fresh tears from my eyes. The crunch of his shoes became louder as he neared the place where I sat.

"Matthew…" he tried again. I heard a rustle behind me, knowing he had reached out to touch me. Not finding it in his heart to do so however, he crouched next to me in the dirt.

I began to absentmindedly stroke Kumajiro's fur while my other arm wrapped itself protectively around my knees. In my peripheral vision, I saw him try to form words that just wouldn't come out.

I cut him off. "What."

"Huh?" he answered dumbly.

"What could you possibly have to say to me after that? What excuse could you possibly give me that would make what just happened okay?"

Gilbert flinched at the biting venom in my voice. "Mattie I'm sorry-"

"Sorry?" I stood up now, fire blazing in my eyes. "You think a simple apology is going to make all of this better?" The albino stared at me in a loss for words. I could slowly feel the pain in my chest turning to rage as I stared down at my boyfriend's pathetically guilty face. I practically spat my next words. "How long?"

"What do you mea-"

"How fucking long have the two of you been sleeping together?"

He bowed his head, refusing to look me in the eye. "A few months." He answered quietly.

Blind fury coursed through my veins, so much that it cut my words short. I stood there, hands balled into fists, staring at him as the words sunk in. I couldn't even bother to ask 'why'. I didn't want to know, it was too much already.

Gilbert finally stood, rubbing the back of his neck. "You-…you weren't supposed to find out like this."

"And how the fuck was I supposed to find something like this out?"

Gilbert didn't answer. Instead, a tense silence filled the room, clashes of thunder the only sound breaking the atmosphere. "Mattie, please come home. We can talk about this in a more civilized manner."

"Civilized? You want to talk to me about being civilized?" My voice rose in pitch, becoming hysterical.

He reached forward to grab my arms. "Birdie, please listen-"

With a loud, and almost soothing sound, my palm made contact with his face in a harsh slap. "Don't fucking touch me. Just get out." And for a moment, it looked like that was going to be the end of it. His hands left my arms, just barely ghosting over my flesh as he did so. He turned away from me and headed for the door. All the while, I stared at the hand I had slapped him with, remembering the feeling of when it made brutal contact with the plush skin of his cheek. Kumajiro nudged me from his position on the ground, and as I stared into the black orbs of his eyes, a sudden rush washed over me. I clenched my fist and spoke to my pet in a low voice. "Kuma…" the bear's ears perked up at the sound of his name. "Sick 'em."

Black orbs blinked in understanding and a low growl escaped Kumajiro's throat. The bear took off and Gilbert had little time to even look behind him before sharp claws collided with the side of his head, effectively knocking him unconscious.

I approached him slowly, marveling at the blood that gushed from his wound. His white hair seemed to be made for the red gems that now decorated it. I lifted his head from the ground, smiling softly. He's wearing a crown of his own blood.

"How poetic…" I muttered. My fingers touched the crimson liquid as the smile fell from my face. "How pathetic." In one swift movement, I grabbed him by his hair and dragged him along the dirt floor. I eyed the space around me, finally seeing the tools I had at my disposal. My head snapped back to look at my bear, now my partner in crime so to speak. "Come on Kuma, we're not done yet."

He groaned, his voice long, drawn out, and painful. Gilbert's head twitched, trying to rouse himself back into consciousness. He blinked, eyes stinging from the light shining on him from some unknown source. Another muffled groan escaped his lips and the silence afterwards gave way to the light scuffling of my shoes. His eyes snapped open, senses springing to life. The bewildered German finally became aware of his surroundings.

Gilbert hung by his hands in the centre of the filthy room, completely nude. The long string of chain that bound his wrists was tied to a rusted pipe in the ceiling, suspending him above the ground. The rusted lamp above him cast a dull sheen around the warehouse, its presence blinding him to the rest of the space.

His voice sounded hoarse in his throat. "What the fuck…"

My own voice sounded sickeningly sweet. "You're finally awake then, love?"

Gilbert's eyes struggled to focus in the light. "M-Mattie?"

I stepped into his line of sight, an arms length away from him. A small smile still clung to my face, though I was fully aware of how puffy my eyes must have been. But I was done crying now.

Gilbert tried again. "Mattie what's going on?"

I closed the distance between us, wrapping my arms around his bareback. "Are you sure you're okay? You took a nasty spill…" Gilbert was suddenly very aware of the thick oozing substance that was starting to dry on the side of his head. I watched his eyes widen as dread began to pool at the base of his stomach. I started to absentmindedly stroke his pale skin.

"Mattie what's going on?" he managed to get out smoothly, fear creeping into his words.

I chuckled. "You tell me. You're a very smart when you're not fucking my father." Sugar seemed to drip from my words, I sounded so sweet. Beneath his rib cage, I felt Gilbert's heart begin to beat faster.

He swallowed. " Matthew, let me go."

"Oh but I cant do that! You're barely conscious and bleeding, and we haven't had our fun yet." I paused, chuckling as I surveyed his body. "Plus I don't think you're in any condition to be running around town," I said, letting my eyes roam freely over Gilbert's naked form.

The German's red eyes widened in horror as my hands began to wander, my gaze hungrily devouring him. Gilbert began struggling against his bonds in vain, clear panic beginning to rise within him.

"Matthew this is fucking insane, let me go!"

This earned him a steely glare and slap to the face. "Don't you tell me what to do, I'd hate to have to ruin that beautiful face of yours."

Gilbert's words died in his throat in sheer terror. Finally, he spit up a string of semi-coherent words, staring at me all the while. "What are you going to do to me…?"

"I don't know," I answered. "But I can tell you two things. One-" I cupped Gilbert's cheek gently. "It's going to hurt, a lot. And two…you are probably going to die." My voice took on the tone as if I were speaking to a child. Tears welled up in the German's eyes and my smile widened. "Don't cry, love."

I backed away, shrinking back into the darkness to retrieve something. Out of his sight, my cheerful façade melted away. What am I doing? I repeatedly asked myself. I am not this person, what the hell am I doing? My hands started to shake as I looked around. It's too late to go back now…I have to go through with this. I glanced down at Kumajiro. He just sat there with his head cocked to the side. I looked to his right, seeing Gilbert's clothing in a jumbled heap. I picked up the jeans that Kuma had begun to paw at and noticed that, firstly, they were my Papa's, and second that a long, brown belt still hung loosely in the loops. I practically ripped the leather from its confines, accidentally hitting myself on the arm in the process. I winced at the pain but then stopped. For a few brief moments I glanced between my arm and the belt. I failed to force down a crazed smile that my lips had started to become all too accustomed to. I patted my bear on the head before turning back to…what do I even call him now? My boyfriend, my ex, my victim…? No, victim seemed to real, too incriminating. Yet all the same it felt powerful. It filled me with a sense of control I'd never felt before.

I reemerged in the lamp light before Gilbert, brandishing my new weapon and mindset. I advanced on him, masking my face with the old chipper expression. "I was thinking of starting with something a little more blunt, but I felt it might be too soon for that." My index finger traced the outline of the worn belt idly. "But this will do nicely."

Gilbert's struggles began to intensify. He attempted to rouse his limbs from painful slumber, thrashing about despite the constant throbbing that was sure to be pounding in his skull. I had to admit it was rather humorous to watch, considering the best he could accomplish was a vague twitch in his legs, creating a dying, wiggling fish motion.

I paid this no mind, and I began to stroke the flesh of his waist with the course leather of the belt. For no other reason than I felt like it, I smacked the strap across his skin, earning me a sharp cry of pain from my ex and a lovely red mark on the snowy expanse in front of me. I grinned. I repeated the gesture a second and third time, delighted with the outcome each time. I slowly stared to circle Gilbert like a hawk, treating the belt like a whip, enjoying myself far too much for my own good.

I brought the leather down more forcefully, my confidence increasing with his screams. The blows became faster and harder, decorating pasty flesh and painting it red. The strap came down on the German's shoulder especially hard with a loud crack, and Gilbert screamed loud, his voice driven more by terror than pain. I frowned at this, then chuckled.

"You know I've always loved making you scream," I practically giggled. "I mean, generally not in this context but fun nonetheless." I traced Gilbert's throat with one slender finger. "And while I love hearing your voice, I'd hate for someone to come and find us. I've only just gotten started." With that said, I wrapped the belt around his neck, pulling the loop tighter until I heard Gilbert gasping for air. All the while he chanted a nonsensical string of, "No, no no no Mattie, please."

I sighed in exasperation. "Yes dear, yes."

The noises that escaped Gilbert's mouth were strangled whispering at best, significantly lower in volume due to his new collar. With that done, I scurried back into the darkness to retrieve my next object. There was the sickening sound of metal scrapping against concrete, and when I reappeared in front of Gilbert, I was carrying a crowbar.

"Here we are," I mumbled. The albino paled considerably, looking as if he were going to vomit. I smiled sweetly. "Let's begin."