A/N: This was a cute little one-shot idea that I started a couple weeks ago for Canada Day. Unfortunately, I put it off, and it wasn't until I saw all the Canada Day birthday fics popping yesterday that I remembered about it. So... better late than never?
"A birthday is just another day where you go to work and people give you love.
Age is a state of mind, and you are as old as you think you are.
You have to count your blessings and be happy."
-Abhishek Bachchan
Matthew was awoken by a familiar tug on his sleeve. He groaned, placing a pillow over his head to block the incoming sunlight.
"Not now, Kumo." He mumbled to the polar bear, "I'll feed you in a…little bit."
His bear friend frowned, as he insistently tugged the Canadian's sleeve yet again. "I don't want food, what's-his-face is making a mess in the kitchen."
"Who?" Matthew peered from underneath his pillow blearily at Kumojiro.
"The one that smells of hamburgers," The bear wrinkled his nose in disgust, "That's who."
There was only one person Matthew knew that could fit that description. The Canadian wearily sat up in his bed, as he tried to groggily recollect the memories of the previous night. There had been a world meeting at Canada's place. Afterwards, Alfred had convinced them to share a quote-on-quote "bros night." Which including the usual being a movie marathon and excess amounts of candy. This naturally spiraled into the horror genre where Alfred clung onto his brother for dear life while insisting that he was "protecting Mattie from the creepy ghost."
It concluded around 2am when the power went out for a few seconds during the actual movie and Alfred was convinced it was all the in-movie ghost's doing. That was when Matthew decided to end their impromptu movie night.
Now it seemed that the loud American was trying to either make himself some breakfast…or conduct a science experiment in the Canadian's kitchen. You never knew which when it came to Alfred.
There was a loud clang that resonated throughout the house—spooking Matthew out of his thoughts.
"That's him." Kumojiro announced, as he yanked Matthew's sleeve yet again, "He's been up since 7am making that racket."
"Alright, alright, I'll take care of it," Matthew muttered as he slipped on his pair of glasses and threw the blankets off of him.
Matthew sleepily trudged his way into his kitchen. He blinked, standing still for a few seconds as he took in the complete and utter chaos that had occurred in the once spotless kitchen.
It was an absolute disaster in there. His kitchen drawers had been raided through for materials, the perpetrator carelessly leaving them wide open. Some of their contents were spilled awry onto the wooden floors of the kitchen.
Speaking of which, the floors had a completely separate—but related—mess spilled upon it. There were small mounds of white flour near the edges of where the countertops met the floor. Among the flour was a batter that suspiciously looked like pancake batter. It covered the countertops in its sticky mess from top to bottom. Some of which had even splattered onto top of the ceiling itself! The batter was thoroughly caked onto a small griddle that laid abandoned on the countertop.
On the countertops, not only was there the griddle, but there sat everything used to make the batter. A red-and-white mixer, that was lathered with the same batter that was on the floor and countertops (Matthew was beginning to wonder if there was any batter left that hadn't already been spoiled!).
There was measuring cups and spoons that laid spewed about the work space. The flour container, along with the rest of the ingredients' containers still sat around the mixer.
All-in-all, it was quite a sight to behold.
In the midst of what Matthew had once called pristine, there was a suspicious huddled figure in the corner of the kitchen. It laid there, curled up into a tight ball. Sobs of utter anguish heaved from the person's chest, the form was shaking profoundly.
"Al-alfred?" He timidly approached, placing a hand on the other's shoulder, "Are you alright?"
As soon as he felt Matthew's hand, Alfred immediately turned around and tackled him into a great hug. He tried explaining why the kitchen was such a mess, but Matthew couldn't understand him. He was speaking way too fast, stumbling and tripping over his words. Not to mention, Alfred looked like he was about ready to cry.
Canada was also trapped in a bone-crushing hug, to the point that America was almost choking him.
"Al-fred?" Matthew said with a strained voice.
"—yes?" His brother answered.
"You're….hurting…me." At once, Alfred immediately released his brother.
As he slowly regained his breath, his brother tried to apologize profusely for practically squeezing him. Of course, it was still only babbles as Alfred was still quite hysterical from whatever trauma happened in the kitchen this morning.
"Alfred," He once more placed a hand on the American's shoulder, "Alfred, calm down! I can't understand a word you are saying!"
It was only a few minutes later after he managed to get his brother take a few deep breaths and calm down to finally get some information out of him.
"So, what happened in here?" Matthew gestured towards the ruined batter. Which was, well, pretty much everywhere in the kitchen.
"It wasn't supposed to be like this!" Alfred vehemently exclaimed, "I realized it was your birthday today and I know how much you like maple syrup and pancakes so I was like, 'hey I'll make him breakfast in bed!' but then," here he took a deep breath,
"The griddle wouldn't work, at all! I swear, I did everything right, but it wouldn't cook the pancakes. AT. ALL!"
"You were going to make me pancakes for my birthday?" Matthew asked, a bit amazed.
Alfred nodded, "Yeah, and it was gonna be this cool little breakfast tray with the pancakes and orange juice and a hand-made card and everything!"
As the American trailed off into a rant about his cooking mishaps, Matthew zoned out for a moment there.
He had been wrapped up in his paperwork lately that he himself had entirely forgotten about his birthday. HIS OWN BIRTHDAY! Who does that kind of thing, did that make him a terrible person?
Well, it wasn't as if he did anything particularly special. He wasn't flashy like his brother who insisted on hosting an extravagant party every year on his day of honor. Which was unfortunately a mere three days away from Matthew's, thus the latter birthday tended to get overshadowed a lot by Alfred's.
It wasn't that Matthew really minded. He wasn't too keen inviting the whole world for a birthday party and preferred things to be more personal and be spent with close friends and family. He didn't have to be surrounded by people every year to celebrate his birthday. In fact, a simple acknowledgment via a well-meaning card was enough for him.
But Alfred's attempt really warmed him. The fact that the American had remembered his birthday and decided to do something about it was very touching. Even Alfred had failed…suddenly Matthew's eyes lit up in recognition. He now remembered where Alfred's attempt had gone awry, and it wasn't even his brother's fault!
He started laughing hysterically, which caused Alfred to pause what he was saying and stare at him.
"Uh, Mattie? You okay?" He asked, cocking his head to one side, "'Cause you're kinda creeping me out."
"I'm fine," Canada gasped as he wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. "It's just, I just realized that my griddle has been acting up lately, and I've been meaning to replace it for weeks! I'm just sorry it bit the dust on you!"
Alfred started chuckling, "I don't understand why you're one apologizing to me when I'm the one who trashed your kitchen!"
They sat there on the ground, for a moment, just laughing to themselves about the comedy of errors that took place.
"Hey!" Kumojiro complained from the sidelines, as the laughter began to die down, "Are you gonna clean up and make breakfast or what?!"
"Such a whiny, grumpy bear." Alfred mused.
"You could describe the same about Tony," Matthew jabbed back.
"Stop ignoring me like I'm not here!" With that, the tiny polar bear head-butted Alfred's pant legs.
Alfred sighed, as he stood up and brushed off some flour from his jeans. "I'm sorry your surprise birthday breakfast didn't go as planned."
"That's alright." Matthew shrugged. "it was the thought that counts."
"Hmm, perhaps I could get you a new griddle for a birthday present." Alfred lightheartedly joked as he enclosed Matthew in another obligatorily birthday hug, "happy birthday Mattie, sorry it's off to a sucky start."
"That's okay," Matthew smiled, "Just next time, leave me to the pancakes."
Omake:
It was about 10am once they had cleaned up the entire kitchen. Canada had fed his bear a few pieces of salmon to keep the bear from complaining to much from the delayed breakfast. Alfred had made a snarky comment about him spoiling Kumo from which Matthew retorted infamous mishap involving his pet whale. That had shut his younger brother up for a few minutes at the very least.
They were now finally making breakfast for themselves. Matthew, true to his word, had stuck to making the pancakes (this time on a frying pan rather than the griddle). While Alfred made scrambled eggs and cooked the ham, which he insisted calling "Canadian bacon" just to annoy Matthew.
"You don't know how relieved I was when you told me that it was not my fault that the pancakes wouldn't cook on the griddle for me," Alfred remarked, "for a moment there, I thought my cooking was becoming just as bad as Arthur's!"
"Is that why you were having a panic attack when I found you?" Matthew raised an eyebrow.
"Wouldn't anyone have a panic attack about their cooking skills being just as bad as Arthur?!" Alfred cried out, over-dramatically.
"Well you might as well, since your taste buds are just as bad as his." Matthew quipped, "Anyone who can eat a hundred-year-old fruitcake and still claims it tastes good has something seriously wrong with them."
"Hey!" Alfred exclaimed, "That was for science! And after everything else we taste-tested, the fruitcake tasted the best out of everything else! Plus, who can go wrong for fruitcake, hundred years old or not?!"
"Just shut up and cook your eggs before they burn." Matthew said, with a gleam in his eyes.
A/N: I admit it, I had a similar accident with involving a griddle and pancakes that caused inspiration for this fanfic. It wasn't as bad as Alfred's mess, but I was so done with it I wanted to curl up in the corner and weep. Fortunately, it was the griddle's fault, it was like fifteen years and on it's last legs. I hope you enjoyed the fic, and feel feel to leave a review and any critiques you may have! :D