Hi, all! Red here. So this is a little one-shot I wrote quickly last night instead of studying for a Physics midterm.

Hope you enjoy~

Sunlight peeked in through the cracks in the curtain, bathing Matt's face in its golden rays. Matt groaned softly and turned his back to the window, not wanting to be woken up anytime soon. A quick glance at the clock told him that it was only a little past seven; not nearly enough sleep after the hockey game he had played last night.

Gil had come to cheer Matt on from the stands as he joined the Canadian hockey team on the ice, proudly wearing his country's national colours. Matt and his team were hoping for a good play today; beating this team was all that stood between Matt and the finals, where he expected to face off against Ivan and his team. The Russian was pretty good, Matt would give him that, but he was better and Ivan knew it. But that didn't stop either of them from playing their hearts out come game time.

The game that stretched hours was filled with tense moments, the Prussian sitting at the edge of his seat and screaming madly in support of his boyfriend, confident the usually invisible Canadian would be anything but. He watched in awe as Matt owned the ice, swerving around other players and maneuvering the puck like that hockey stick was an extension of his arm.

Gilbert's eyes widened as Matt took some strong checks into the walls, into other players, and Matt had even started a fight on the ice when one of the opposing team's players refused to back down. Gil grinned as he watched the fight unfold, cheering Matthew on in German as they exchanged blows, going at it until the referee came to pull them apart.

When the game had finally come to an end, Matt's team being the obvious victors, the Canadian covered the blades on his skates, unlacing them and running over to Gil. "We did it!" Matt said cheerfully, his voice returning to its normal near whisper. "Next week I face off against Russia."

Gil pulled him into a bear hug, not hearing Matt's soft whimper of pain. The Canadian's body was bruised and banged up from the intense game, but that didn't stop him from enjoying the victory he and his people had won. His body would hurt for the next day or two, but with a little rest, he knew everything would be fine.

He was looking forward to meeting the large Russian on the ice, playing an intense game that usually turned physical fast.

"I knew you could do it, Birdie! The way you flew on that ice…nobody can stand up to you!" Matt laughed softly, feeling his cheeks heat up at the praise Gil kept laying on him. He may have been a different person on the ice, but as soon as the final buzzer rang and the teams had shook hands, he went back to being the same shy, soft-spoken Canada he always was.

Gil had insisted on taking Matt out for a few rounds of beer—and dinner if he wanted—to celebrate, but just the walk out to the car was tiring Matt's bruised body out. After a little back and forth between the two, he had talked Gil into postponing the celebration for a few days so he could relax and get some much needed rest.

Matt's muscles ached as he tried to get back to sleep, turning and shifting this way and that in the bed. Half-asleep, he reached a hand out, expecting his fingers to brush over the warm skin of the sleeping Prussian, but his hand fell on the cool sheets of their bed instead. "Eh?" he mumbled softly into the pillow, not quite sure if it was real or a dream.

His hand groped around a little more, and he ended up with the same result each time: nothing. It was safe to conclude the Prussian wasn't there; Matt figured he must have gotten up to go to the bathroom or search for some food. Gil would come back to bed when he was ready or wake him if he was needed, so Matt didn't feel too bad about trying to drift off again without him.

His dreams of sleep were promptly shattered as the light scent of something baking wafted into the room, causing Matt to shift around in bed. "No, I didn't order pancakes," he mumbled softly, running a hand through his hair.

When the smell of what he could now identify to be pancakes only got stronger, he opened his eyes, sitting up straight and reaching for his glasses off the nightstand. He blinked several times, indigo orbs adjusting to the light and he surveyed the room.

"Gil? Gil, are you in here?" The room was still minus one albino, and Matt frowned a little. Was the smell in the kitchen because of Gil or was he just hungry? Either way, he slid off the bed with a soft groan, muscles aching under his weight. He wrapped the light fleece blanket over his shoulders, the fabric just dragging along the floor despite his height.

He took each step slowly and carefully, the sweet scent of the pancakes urging him forward. The whole house smelled like his favourite breakfast and his stomach growled as he made his way over towards the kitchen.

Gil was standing over the stove, wiping his forehead. He left a light trail of batter just above his eyebrows, barely noticeable against the white of his skin. A cloud of smoke was rising from the pan, followed by a harsh string of German curses. Quickly he attempted to salvage what was left of this batch of pancakes, three out of the four of them being burnt beyond salvation and quickly tossed out. One, luckily, had made it to golden brown like he was hoping for and he slid it onto the plate with a grin by the meager few that didn't suffer the same fate as the three recently discarded ones.

Matt hugged the blanket tighter around himself and laughed softly, the albino quickly turning to face him, fixing his ruby eyes on the blond.

"Mattie? What are you doing up?" he asked quickly, moving to try and cover the stove and the already baked pancakes.

"I was looking for you; you weren't there when I woke up, so I was curious… That and I smelled something awesome."

Gilbert smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. "I was trying to surprise you, but these damn pancakes have a mind of their own!" He sent a glare over his shoulder towards the breakfast, trying to scare them into cooking properly.

Matt laughed, a little louder this time, and strode over to him, taking the spatula out of his hand. "It's not that hard; I'll teach you the secret to the best pancakes you'll ever have."

"But I wanted to make them for you!"

"But you already made some! I'm sure they're as awesome as you are." Matt leaned over, kissing Gil quickly on the cheek before turning to the stove, pouring even amounts of batter onto the pan. "If you get the maple syrup, I'll have these done in no time."

Gil pointed towards the table, the large glass bottle of the Canadian's favourite syrup already waiting for use. "Done already. Come on, Birdie; you don't think I know you by now?"

Matt smiled. "You're right; I should have known. Anyway, let me show you how to make them…"

Fifteen minutes passed and the two eased over the large stack of pancakes to the table, sitting down next to each other. Matt's stomach growled as he opened his mouth to thank Gil for all this, earning a laugh from the latter as he pulled pancake after pancake onto his plate.

"Talk later, Mattie. We've got an awesome breakfast to enjoy."

"Je t'aime," he said, drowning his pancakes in syrup until he couldn't see them anymore.

"Ich liebe dich," Gil said back around a mouthful of pancakes, moving his seat closer to Matt as they enjoyed their breakfast. "And next time I'll make them this good before you can wake up."

"I can't wait."