A/N: What happens when you're fed up, have read too many PruCan fics, and have a song in your head that you can't get out?
This happens. Works best if you listen to the song Teenage Sounds by Neon Trees! I own nothing~ ~Amity
Matthew Williams stormed into his house, recounting all the ways it went wrong. First, he had shown up late to the meeting again, because of the coffee maker refusing to co-operate, again. He needed to buy another one, and they were so expensive, sheesh. After, he had trudged through the meeting unnoticed, stressed, and tired, he had chosen to stop at a Starbucks close by. It wasn't Tim Horton's, and when he finally went through the long line, some hoser had hit his elbow mid-drink and spilled piping hot maple coffee all over him.
He had to deal with the stain on his shirt for the rest of the meeting- not that anybody noticed, and the one time he was, he was laughed at because apparently it was funny he looked like Alfred with coffee all over him. He was then stuck in traffic on his way back.
So yeah. He was in a mood, sue him. Throwing off his coffee stained shirt, not bothering to toss it in a hamper and pulling on an old t-shirt that Gilbert had got him one day. He grinned despite himself, it was funny the way he stressed the fact that the color was Prussian blue, the best kind of blue. He flipped open his laptop, clicked on the 'Bad Day' playlist, and hit play, cranking the volume up all the way, letting the angry guitar of the song Teenage Sounds by Neon Trees wash over him.
While it was pathetic, Matthew knew, one-person dance parties were the way he cheered himself up. Sometimes, Kuma... something or other joined in on the act too, but usually it was just him. The guitar kicked in, and he started just simply moving to the beat, mouthing the words.
"I'm sick of living under everybody's shadow...
I'm sick of everyone's success, I know it's shallow..."
Matthew nodded to at the words- they were just so relatable- and started really dancing, swishing his hips, jumping back and forth, and singing along. It always started slow, but always picked up after.
"I'm sick and tired of always feeling second best..."
He was in the element, air guitar solos, hairbrush mic... he whipped his head back and yelled the next lyric along with the band.
"I'm tired of never ever making any progress!" Canada punched his fist up in the air, yelling it at the top of his voice.
Gilbert parked his beat up- but still totally awesome- truck into what he thought was Matthew's driveway. He'd been there enough times to drive there with his eyes closed, but this place was different. Music blared from the house, loud enough for Gilbert to feel the vibrations from even outside. The neighbors were no doubt unimpressed. Gilbert opened the unlocked door with a call of "Birdie?" and was greeted by the blaring music, ten times louder than outside.
What was louder, though, was the sound of someone singing along, almost more angrily than the singer himself.
"I'm sick of everybody saying to be happy..." A bitter laugh and a crash. Gilbert carefully padded up the stairs and located the source of the music and crashes, and almost laughed out loud.
Matthew was there, jamming out and throwing anything that wasn't breakable. His face was a mix of anger and happiness, annoyance and bliss. Gilbert couldn't help but sway a bit in the doorway, watching with a smile as Matthew danced and sang.
"Now all the cool kids on the block...
Where's all the original thought, tell me!"
At the last syllable, Matthew crashed into Gilbert. He opened his eyes and blushed bright red at being caught in the act, and Gilbert laughed, took his hand, and danced as wildly as Matthew was, singing with a heavily accented voice. He knew the song too, heck, he showed him the song. Matthew only swayed for a little at first, but then gave up and dissolved into wild spinning and jumping, yelling along with him.
"We're making all the noise,
We're making teenage sounds!
Yeah, it's the same old,
Song and dance!
We're sick of everybody trying to be famous!"
Red eyes and violet eyes were both alight, singing along with the words, alternating verses.
"The truth is hard to swallow, when it's true..." a Canadian voice crooned.
"The truth is hard to swallow, when it's choking you..." a thickly accented German voice shot back. Matthew was pretty good at the singing, but Gilbert, who was never gifted with a good voice, was pretty bad. They shot the two verses back and forth, and at the last scream of the singer and pure musical chaos ensued, angry crooning and guitar in the background, Gilbert leaned in and kissed Matthew. They kept at it for a little, and at the last shout of "Rock is Dead!" The two pulled back.
The distinctive beginning of 'The Kind' by Flyleaf kicked in, and Gilbert smirked at Matthew. "Where'd you learn to do that Birdie?"
Matthew poked his tongue out at Gilbert. "Wouldn't you like to know?" He grinned. "Wanna do it again?"
Gilbert nodded, offering his hand to Matthew, which he took and held on to as they spun and jumped and sang, song after song. When the playlist finally stopped and they collapsed on the couch, sweating and breathing heavily, throats hoarse from the singing, Matthew privately thought that one person dance parties are way better with two.
A/N: Aw... I ship them so hard... anyways, review if you liked it! Or review if you hated it! Or review if you don't care! XD Anyways, the song Teenage Sounds by Neon Trees and The Kind by Flyleaf are both not owned by me, but they are fab songs and good for when you're angry, so I recommend them... anyways, Amity out! ~Amity