Gilbert walked downstairs to the smell of pancake batter, clad only in a pair of very skinny jeans. He tread carefully, any noise he made might alert Mattie. And that would ruin his fun.
Mattie was standing at the counter, mixing batter- of the pancake variety, what else?- in a bowl and humming to himself, standing in a slightly slanted position to avoid putting any possible strain on his rear, which felt a little sore after the night before. He flicked his soft, blonde hair out of his face and continued stirring, oblivious to the grinning albino behind him.
"Gotcha!" Gilbert grabbed Matthew around the waist from behind and spun him around.
"GIL!" Matt clutched the bowl for dear life; if he let go now then his kitchen would never be the same! When Gilbert finally decided to stop spinning, and instead plant little kisses along the back of his neck, Matt sighed in relief and tried to go back to cooking. But that was easier said than done when his lover was holding him close- really close. "Gil, I need to make pancakes, and I can't do that if you're hugging me!"
"You know what, Birdie?" Matthew could feel Gilbert's huge grin against his cheek.
"What?" 'Birdie' asked, slightly apprehensive.
"You look like a woman." With that comment, Gil let go immediately and vaulted over the island in the middle of the kitchen to get to the table.
"I swear, if you weren't-"
"Totally able to kick your ass in a fight?"
"No, let me finish! If you weren't-"
"The man that fucked you senseless last night?"
"NO!"
"The reason your ass is so sore right now?"
"WILL YOU SHUT UP!"
"… Are you really that pissed about me insulting your masculinity? Because you really are kind of feminine."
Matthew didn't even dignify that comment with a response.
"But, you know, it's ok that you're a woman. Because you're my woman."
And that, Matthew reflected, was the kind of twisted Prussian logic that kept Gilbert from getting destroyed in a mandatory revenge game of hockey. And because he was pretty damn hot with no shirt on.