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Crushes never appear at the most opportune moment. You never run into someone you like when you're dressed ready to take on Hollywood - no. Fate waits until that one moment when you haven't yet brushed your teeth, your hair is a sweaty mess, your outfit is covered in black soot and you're running out of a burning building.
...Maybe he gets points for saving the currently unconscious man slung across his shoulder.
Alfred leaps over the fallen porch railing blocking the entryway and runs out of the house fire's range. As he throws off his heavy helmet and sets the man down to quickly check his vitals, his co-workers rush past him dragging along a gigantic hose and familiar sound of pressurized water spray joins the roar of the flames.
"Need help?" he hollers at them, but they simply wave him off. They only need so many people at the hose after all.
In the meantime, an ambulance screeches to a halt alongside the red fire truck, and the object of his affection is practically running towards him Baywatch-style (except fully-clothed and holding a first-aid kit instead of a life preserver), with his medium-length wavy hair shining pale gold in the moonlight, swaying with his hurried steps.
In a flash, the man is kneeling next to him in the frozen dirt path, taking an AED out of the first aid-kit and abruptly asking "Pulse? Breathing?"
Irregular, Alfred thinks, heart in his throat as he tries to form a response, his usual focus slipping away from the urgency of the situation. Absolutely breathless. Better take me away just in case.
Alfred can only manage to shake his head as the other blond rips open the unconscious man's shirt (Alfred's definitely stopped breathing at this point) and places the adhesive pads of the defib onto his chest, plugging in the connectors and switching on the device.
After the mechanical confirmation that a shock is recommended, Matthew checks once more for signs of life, before turning his head back towards the ambulance parked nearby and yells, "Lukas! We need a stretcher and an oxy tank!"1
"Charging," says the machine.
"Stand clear," Matthew says, and Alfred quickly backs away from the patient.
"Shock administered," says the machine, after a high pitched beep and a small jolt of the patient's chest. Matthew is on him immediately, performing the usual CPR routine.
The imposingly tall paramedic named Lukas has the stretcher ready by now, and he and Matthew lift the unconscious man onto it, and together they move him quickly into the ambulance.
Alfred, finally gathering his wits, picks up the forgotten medical supplies and runs after them, handing them to Matthew before he can shut the ambulance doors.
"Alfred," Matthew yells as the emergency siren blares to life, and Alfred lights up, his heart dancing with the red and yellow flashes around them. "We'll talk later," Matthew promises, as the ambulance begins to drive away and the back doors finally close.
He takes a moment to watch the vehicle carrying his half-brother zoom away, taking his heart in tow.
---
The two of them sit across from each other in one of the many cafés in town, Alfred nervously thumbing the screen of his phone, the last text he received still fresh in his mind:
Let's meet up - I'll be at the centre station by 5pm. You still like coffee right? - Matthew
Under the tiny table, Alfred's knees accidentally knock into Matthew's and he pulls back a fraction, imagining that he can feel the heat radiating off of Matthew's jean-clad legs. The sugary coffee is making him uncharacteristically twitchy, too many flutters travelling through his chest. He catches a reflection of himself in the window and his hand jumps to his short blond hair, self-consciously patting it down.
"So... are you settling in to the new place alright?" Alfred asks.
"Actually, everything's still in boxes," Matthew sheepishly grins. "Well except for Kumajirou's stuff, he's a laze-about dog but when I'm away on 24 hour shifts, he'll have access to everything he needs."
Alfred shakes his head. "I don't know where you found that dog - he's huge."
"But he's so cute," Matthew says, reflexively cooing at the air. It's the same facial expression he was wearing when he first introduced Alfred to the abnormally large, white, fluffy Great Pyrenees-Samoyed cross2.
It figures that his brother would come back from studying in Canada with an animal that could pass as a polar bear. He only recently moved back to their hometown after completing his two year education as a primary care paramedic, hoping to complete his three-year practical experience before moving on to advanced care paramedicine.
"You could always move in with me, you know," Matthew offers. "There's plenty of room."
Alfred forces a laugh to cover the rising thrill in his chest. That is a bad idea, my dear brother.
"What, and leave my ironic fire hazard of an apartment? I could never."
Matthew grins, shrugging and Alfred's gaze falls onto the curve of his brother's lips before flicking away in self-rebuke. "Consider it?"
Alfred returns the smile, blue eyes shining, "I will. Thanks Mattie. It's really good to have you back."
He quickly changes the subject.
"You know, it was pretty cool, running into you on the field like that. Between the two of us, the people in this town couldn't die if they tried."
"No way, not with Team Awesome on the scene!" Matthew says, barely suppressing his laughter at the childhood reference. "I can't believe I wanted to be an actuary. Being a paramedic is more stressful, but I'm glad I finally found a career with skills that I can take anywhere and really make a difference, you know? Just like you did."
Alfred wishes he could trap the brightness of Matthew's smile at that moment. It's soft and glowing, like a fireplace that warms the entire room.
"It suits you," Alfred tells him. That smile suits you.
---
Alfred dreams about the way Matthew kisses. Has dreamt about it since high school.
Gentle with intensity, he imagines. Feverous, but light.
A sigh in his sleep.
You kiss with the dynamics of a symphony.
---
A few days later, the station gets a call in the middle of the night about a house in the southern suburbs.
"How the hell did the medics get here before us?" Gilbert asks. The German firefighter had about five years of experience on Alfred and was currently on temporary assignment in their city. Though the Chief often grew irritated with Gilbert, even he could not deny that the man was a valuable addition to their team.
Alfred looks round, and sees that the other firefighter is right. The house is clearly not burning, but an empty ambulance is parked haphazardly on the snowy lawn, skid tracks in the snow leading to the tires. The lopsided mailbox post reads "Bonnefoy" just above the street number.
The name rings a bell, but Alfred cannot quite place it.
"Looks like a false alarm - let me check it out," he tells the others as he jumps out of the truck.
"You could at least stop to notice that your LIVING ROOM'S ON FIRE."
At that moment, the front door bursts open, and Matthew storms out, face bright red. Alfred catches him before he can wrench the ambulance driver door open. The poor man looks traumatized.
"Matt! Are you okay? What's the situation?"
"False alarm. Everything's fine, their Christmas tree just caught fire - went and knocked it into the fireplace, that's all - no WAIT -" Matthew says, desperately scrambling to stop Alfred from entering the house. "I put the fire out already, barely any damage done, you guys don't have to go in there."
Alfred stares at Matthew suspiciously.
"Mattie... do you know who lives here?"
Matthew looks more embarrassed than ever. "My cousin Francis and his uh - his boyfriend."3
"Oh." Oh. Right. He's met Matthew's infamous cousin Francis before. Francis is the only living relative on Matthew's mother's side and Matt tends to be very protective of him. The man is kind, but from what Alfred understands, Francis can be very - loving. Though over the past few years, the man has been concentrating all his - loving - on his English boyfriend.
Alfred doesn't want to know what Matthew saw when he ran in there. He shudders.
"Are you here all alone?" he asks, peering at the empty passenger seat.
"Yeah we heard the call and I was kind of in a hurry and... forgot Lukas at the hospital," replies a guilty looking Matthew.
"Well my shift's over in ten minutes anyway, maybe I can keep you company? Ride up in front with you - or in the back if you prefer," Alfred says, immediately trying to tamp down his wandering imagination, fighting an impending blush.
"The back's only for sick people," Matthew tells him amusedly.
Then strap me down and lock me in, Alfred feverishly thinks, his heart filling with longing tinged with shame. I've been in love with my own half-brother for six years - most would consider that sick beyond reason. At least he's been able to keep his distance.
"Oh but if you have tomorrow off," Matthew says, cutting through Alfred's inner-despairing, "you should come over and help me build an igloo in the yard - I thought it'd make a neat dog house for Kumajirou. You said you've always wanted to try right?"
Alfred couldn't turn down the offer if he wanted to.
"Igloo building? Why do you need my help, didn't you master that in Canada?" he ducks the predictable swat from Matthew's arm. "Kidding. I'm kidding! Of course I'll come over, Mattie."
"Great! Now you should probably go off and tell your team that they can go back to station now," Matthew says, purposefully avoiding eye contact and starting the engine.
"Gotcha. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Tomorrow."
---
We're consenting adults, we're only half-related, I'm not a freak, it doesn't matter, he tells himself that night. It doesn't matter.
But at the same time, he thinks that if he ever hears Matthew reject him using the word incest, a part of him would die inside. He doesn't want to see the disgust on Mattie's face, he doesn't want his brother to leave him.
It's nights like these when his dreams really decide to torture him, his subconscious transforming into an erotic reel of images that leaves him in broken arousal.
That night, Alfred shudders awake, the image of his half-brother naked and tangled amongst several fire hoses still vivid in his mind. Horrified at himself, he recalls how Matthew looked stretched out, wanting - tightly ensnared by hoses that Alfred had tied around his limbs. The sighs and gasps continue to reverberate inside Alfred's head. Sometimes Matthew even calls him brother.
He wonders what it would be like to press Matthew against the fire truck, to kiss and touch him until his body flushed as red as the vehicle behind him. He wants to feel Matthew want him too.
Throwing an arm across his eyes, his imagination decides to indulge him further, his darkened room becoming the background for his repressed desires.
Shame is for the daylight.
---
Matthew's house is spacious, with a high ceiling and wide-windows. Large packing boxes are still piled in each room and dusty white tarps cover old, unused furniture.
"Mattie, it looks like a ghost lives here," Alfred says, shivering even though he's dressed in full winter gear. "And your backdoor looks like it's falling apart."
"I know!" Matthew defensively replies. "I'm working on it. And I don't really have a plan for each room yet, so I've only unpacked the essentials."
Alfred peers sideways into a guest room, jumping (and certainly not screaming in terror) as a big, white blur rushes past him.
"There you are Kuma! Sit! Sit!" Matthew commands as the large dog bounds towards him, plopping down on his hind legs, with his tail happily wagging on the hardwood floor. "Good boy," he praises, ruffling his fur and feeding the dog a big fish-shaped treat.
Alfred watches them from afar, the joy in Matthew's deep violet eyes could shine through a storm.
By the time Matthew looks up, he finds himself being regarded by two sets of puppy dog gazes, and his cheeks lightly flush.
"Don't tell me you want a treat too Al," he teases.
Alfred clears his suddenly dry throat, and picks up the snow spade, pretending to inspect it casually. "Does helping you build an igloo get me a reward?"
"If you manage to keep it from collapsing, then maybe." Matthew works a toque onto his head, and gestures towards the door.
In the backyard, a circle of snow blocks is already arranged and stacked on top of each other, with the middle ground slightly dug in. The blocks already forming a wall that hinted at a dome shape.
"You already started the igloo?" Alfred asks, surprised, his breath visibly puffing in front of him.
"Yeah, I've been working on it a bit at a time, it takes a while to make but together we should get it finished no problem in about an hour or two."
After some short instructions from Matthew, they get to work with Alfred cutting out compressed snow blocks with a saw, while Matthew arranges them, cementing them with patted snow. Eventually Alfred joins Matthew inside the igloo, to help close the top of the dome.
"It looks great in here!" Matthew says, inspecting their handiwork. Save for the light from the entrance, and a small ventilation hole in the roof, the igloo is quite dark. Alfred crouches down beside Matthew as he lights a small candle, setting it down in a small nook they made in the wall.
The candle flickers along the curved walls of snow, and Alfred notices just how cramped the space is - especially for the two of them. Matthew's legs are practically on top of his.
"What's wrong? Getting overheated?" Matthew grins.
"Yeah it's warmer in here than I thought it'd be," Alfred admits.
"Aw, let me help you with that," Matthew says, suddenly flipping over and cramming a handful of snow down Alfred's jacket.
Alfred yelps and flails around, trying to dislodge Matthew's (hysterically laughing) weight and the quickly melting snow when his arm and foot meet the wall with a hard thump.
He freezes, waiting for the entire thing to come down over them and breathes a sigh of relief as the snow structure stays up.
"Don't worry, we did a good job," Matthew says smugly - laughter finally subsiding as he moves off of Alfred.
There's a small pause, then before Matthew can defend himself, Alfred is on top of Matthew, giving him the coldest facewash he can manage. Matthew is yelling at him, hands pushing at his face in turn, and the two wrestle like this until they are breathless, freezing and too hot all at once.
Beneath him, Matthew is taking in gulps of air in between snickering and shivering. His toque had fallen off during the struggle, and his wavy, blonde hair messily fans out on the ground. Alfred can feel his brother's chest rise and fall against him, and feels the warmth radiating from his flushed cheeks against his own. He hasn't let himself be this close to Matthew in years, hasn't trusted himself to be.
He instinctively moves in closer, and Matthew stares back up at him, probably questioning his serious demeanour. Trying to lighten the mood, Matthew lifts his head, to nuzzle his nose against Alfred's, an imitation of the Eskimo kisses that were so familiar in their childhood.
But it's too close, too warm and Alfred's self-control melts away like heated ice, and when Matthew pulls back, he quickly follows, finally stealing his brother's soft lips for his own. He uses Matthew's sharp intake of breath to fit his lips snugly against his. One hand keeps steady on Matthew's shoulder, while the other wanders up to his cheek, using his thumb to gently smooth the remaining snow water droplets away.
A sick triumph overtakes him and he revels in every moment that Matthew doesn't push him away. Euphoria spreads through him, as he begins to press against Matthew with more fervour.
A splintering of wood rips through the air and they get two warning barks before the igloo collapses on top of them, covering the two of them in cold snow and an over-enthusiastic dog, lapping at both their faces.
Alfred lifts himself by his elbows, shaking the snow out of his hair, the cold sending jolts along his skin, freezing his very core as he realizes what he's just done.
It only takes one look at Matthew's wide eyes, before he bolts up and runs for the gate.
---
He screens all of Matthew's calls, deletes his texts without reading them.
He doesn't want to be rejected, he can't bear it.
He dreams of nothing.
---
He doesn't see Matthew for two weeks.
They get a call about a suspicious fire that starts up at one of the older restaurants in town, and the blaze quickly goes out of control. The problem is that the restaurant owners lived above in an apartment above the dining section.
Alfred bursts inside, with Gilbert right behind him, the corridor is thick with smoke and heat. They carefully make their way towards the back of the restaurant, where the kitchen stairs lead up to the living space. The elderly couple who owns the restaurant is already there, coughing and trying to help each other down the steps with smoke stinging their eyes. Meanwhile, the other side of the kitchen is ablaze, spreading quickly to the stairs.
Alfred nods at the fire exit at the base of the stairs, and Gilbert approaches the couple, holding out his hands to steady them. Alfred is a step behind when a large BOOM brings the top of the heavy burning doorframe down onto his shoulder and arm. For a moment he is pinned to the ground by the frame and he pushes painfully against it, as the flaming wood digs into his uniform. Gilbert rushes to help him up, and he shrugs him off, nodding at the couple again.
Hot pain blisters across his shoulder and arm as he instinctively clutches at it. The fire exit is locked, but Alfred swiftly gives a well-placed kick near the lock causing the door to CRACK and swing wide open.
He helps Gilbert as best he can with the restaurant owners, and they make their way to the front of the building where the others are battling the blaze.
"Alfred?" he hears a yell, and Matthew is sprinting towards him a horrified expression on his face.
Seeing that the paramedics had arrived, Gilbert immediately runs off to help hose down the restaurant and panicking, Alfred tries to follow but the German pushes him back.
"No! Stay here and get your arm checked - I'll go and help them out." Alfred is frantic now, but it's too late to get away.
"Alfred!" he hears again, and there's a hurried tug at his helmet. Matthew lifts it off of him, pulling his brother to the side, and sits him down a bit away from the elderly couple being checked on by Lukas and another pair of paramedics.
"Your arm it's - let me just -" Alfred yelps as sharp jabs of pain travel up his back.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Matthew chants under his breath. He rips open a first aid kit to find a pair of scissors, quickly setting to work on cutting off his sleeve and a section of the fabric over the shoulder.
Exposure to the cool, winter air serves to soothe the pain in his burning skin for only a moment and he clenches his teeth as Matthew generously applies ointment to his wound.
Their close proximity only fills him with shame and Alfred shuts his eyes, as gentle hands grip his upper arm, applying gauze and winding a tight bandage around it.
"Luckily it looks shallow, but we should get the burn checked out by the hospital just in case," Matthew tells him, leading him into the ambulance, helping him up the step. Alfred nods, but avoids making eye contact. He dreads to hear what Matthew will say next.
"Alfred." He cringes, but the voice is soft, concerned. He waits, keeping his eyes shut so he doesn't have to see the pity in Matthew's. Alfred's eyes fly open in surprise when he feels a smooth lips press a kiss to his brow.
"We'll talk later," Matthew promises, giving him a small smile as he hops out of the ambulance, and closes the back doors.