“Making pancakes….” You muttered to yourself. “Mattie knows I can't cook…”
You pouted a little but then sighed. You were doing this for your sweet Canadian, whose brother took him out drinking with a Briton and a Frenchman. And of course, he was hungover. Imagine a drunken mountie trying to get your goods.
You blushed, careful not to imagine him coming up behind you.
You turned on the stove, putting the skillet over the flame and adding the pancake mixture. Just like he told you, you waited for each side to cook before flipping each side.
Ready for the plate, you set up the breakfast tray. You almost forgot the maple syrup. Maple!
Matthew was certainly rubbing off on you.
“Good morning Mattie…” You put the tray on the dresser and patted his head.
He sighed and opened his eyes, smiling as soon as he saw you.
“Good morning (Name).”
“I tried making pancakes.” You laughed sheepishly. “They're nothing compared to yours though.”
“That’s okay.” He chuckled sleepily. “Did you bring the maple?”
“Yep!” You cheered, much like Feliciano, holding the bottle out.
“Give me a sip please.”
“Of course, let me open it.” You fidgeted with the cap, but it wouldn't seem to budge.
Maple syrup covered your entire body. Matthew's eyes widened and you blushed in embarrassment.
“I'm sorry Mattie. Let me just go clean up.”
“No, just… come here…” He said, his voice deeper.
“But the bed-”
Matthew climbed out of bed and silenced you with a kiss. Without warning he clamped his mouth against your neck, wiping up the syrup.
You let out a gasp. He chuckled darkly.
Pushed against the wall, he lifted up your shirt and kissed your stomach, then moved to under your-
Your hands moved to his back, then up to his neck. Then you pulled his curl which followed by him pressing against you hard, roughly, and desperately.
Matthew was certainly rubbing off on you now.
Something besides syrup was sticky now. Matthew pulled off your pants and your shirt, tossing them somewhere.
“I asked for a sip but I got more than that…” He said with an accent, and you saw his French side coming out.
“Mattie!” You whined.
“Ah, ah ah. Sweetie….” He put a slick finger against your lips, making you shudder. “Tais-toi et laisse -moi manger mon petit déjeuner.”
This… sexy.. side of Matthew certainly made you speechless.
So Matthew ate his breakfast, but not the one on the dresser.
“Mattie.” You said, frowning at the cold tray and your messy hair.
“Why are you mad?” He said blissfully through sticky sweet teeth and lips.
“I'm not mad. I just forgot something.”
“What did you forget?”
Kumajiro was at the foot of the bed, looking traumatized as he had heard everything.