I haven't written anything in over a year, so this is effectively my return to fanfiction. And it's kind of awful. Anyway, it's just a little thing that came to me in Chemistry class the other day. Hope you enjoy! I don't have a beta, so I apologise for any spelling/grammar mistakes.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own Hetalia.

When Matthew woke up, the first thing he noticed was the cold. It crept around the edges of the duvet, stroking his skin with its icy tentacles, and chilled him to the bone. He frowned to himself. Gilbert was usually so warm. Matthew opened his eyes, fumbled for his glasses and shoved them on. Ah. His boyfriend's side of the bed was bare and empty.

When he'd pulled on socks, thermals and one of Gilbert's hoodies, Matthew trudged downstairs. At the doorway to the kitchen, he paused and smiled softly to himself. Gilbert was bent over the stove, singing along to the radio (which wouldn't have been so bad, except that it was playing "Dancing Queen") and stirring something in a pan. "Hey," Matthew called out, and the albino looked up, startled. Then his face broke into a broad grin. "Hey," Gilbert replied, "I made you porridge. I tried to make you pancakes, but… well, it didn't end so well." At that point, Matthew noticed the pancake stuck firmly to the ceiling directly above his boyfriend. Gilbert chuckled uneasily.

"Thankyou," Matthew said as the Prussian scooped porridge into a bowl for him. "I put maple syrup in it," was the reply, "I know you love it." Matthew couldn't help but smile as he slipped the warm, sweet mixture into his mouth. It was moments like this that reminded him how lucky he was to have Gilbert. "So what's the occasion?" he joked, then his eyes widened as his boyfriend blushed and looked away.

"Um… well, the thing is," Gilbert stuttered, "I- you know this family dinner thing? I, um, won't be able to go. Sorry. I have really important work stuff to do." Matthew put down his spoon. He'd been dreading the event for weeks, and having Gilbert there was the one thing he'd been counting on to make it bearable. But if he had work, there wasn't really anything either of them could do about it. "Okay," Matthew said, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach.

Half an hour later, Gilbert was standing in the doorway to their house, watching Matthew walk down the path towards the car. "Wait!" the albino suddenly called out, and rushed after the blond man. Matthew half-turned to face him, a resigned expression on his face. Gilbert bent down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "Have a nice trip," he whispered. Matthew blushed a furious red, silently squeezed his boyfriend's hand, and got into the car. Gilbert smiled to himself as the vehicle drove away. Matthew tasted of maple syrup.

It was getting dark by the time Matthew returned. He pulled the car over to the kerb and slowly eased his way out of the seat. He was completely exhausted. The family dinner had begun with his brother arriving dressed as Superman, and ended with his Papa throwing cranberry sauce at his father, missing, and hitting Matthew right in the face. It had taken over two hours to get home, the traffic was horrible, and he stunk of Thanksgiving food. All he wanted was a long, hot shower, Gilbert, and bed. In that order. With heavy feet and cold hands, he pushed his way through the front door and into the house.

Gilbert was nowhere to be seen, but there were strange noises coming from upstairs. Weird, excited yelling sounds. Matthew slipped off his boots and coat and started to climb the stairs as quietly as he could. A nervous swallow made his throat fluctuate. What was going on? The noises grew louder as Matthew approached Gilbert's bedroom, and as he eased open the door his hands were shaking.

Gilbert was sitting at his desk, tapping furiously at his computer keyboard. He was so engrossed with whatever was on the screen that he didn't even notice Matthew's presence. Surrounding him were what seemed like hundreds of bowl of half-eaten food, most of them containing at least two mashed up sausages. Matthew walked towards his boyfriend; slightly dreading whatever was on the computer screen. When he came to stand behind Gilbert, close enough to read the letters, his eyes narrowed. "Zombie Unicorn Attack?" the Canadian demanded, "You blew off a dinner with my family so that you could get to level 47 on Zombie Unicorn Attack?"

Gilbert slept on the couch that night.