AmeriCan: Cardboard Dreams

"Mmgh…what time is it…?"

"Dude! You're finally up! It's 9:30! There's an IHOP 'bout five minutes away, I figured we could stop."

"Mon Dieu! I can't look presentable in five minutes!" Matthew sat up and threw open the compact mirror on the sunshade. "Maple! Just look at my hair!"

"Jeez, Mattie, it's just a little bed head! I look like a fricken raccoon, yo. And plus, it's just IHOP. Not like we're going out on a date!"

Matthew tried to hide his blush from Alfred by digging around in the behind their seats for a brush. The concept of a date with his brother was oddly…pleasant. Finally he managed to find a comb, and pulled it through his hair, ripping out several knots.

"This is what you get for growing up around Francis." Alfred taunted, sneaking a glance at his own hair in the rearview mirror. Matthew chuckled, and the squeaked as he accidently combed his curl. His face went bright red, and he could hear the familiar "hero's" laugh through the blood rushing around his head.

"S-shut up!" he snapped, scrambling out of the pick-up before Alfred had even finished pulling in. He was about to let his brother have it (or try to), but then he smelled it.

Pancakes.

A (very long) minute later, they were sitting in the practically empty restaurant, Mattie having ordered so many pancakes the waitress was giving him weird looks.

After several minutes, she came back over with plates in hand. "H-here's your bacon and hash browns s-sir," She gave Alfred a shaky smile, and practically squealed when he grinned back. "A-and here's the f-first batch of pancakes. I b-brought you some extra syrup a-and butter too."

"Thanks, uh, Lily." Mattie glanced at her name tag.

"Wha-! O-oh! S-sure, just call me i-if you need anything!" She walked off, leaving the brothers with their food.

Alfred had already shoveled in half his breakfast by the time Matthew had buttered and syruped his pancakes. Tentatively, he took a bite.

…And promptly spit it back out.

"You call these pancakes? These are cardboard! And you wonder why I live in Canada! Us Canadians make TRUE pancakes! Not this crap!" Matthew threw down his fork in disgust.

"Bro, chillax and eat your stinking breakfast. Jeez. Another thing you get from growing up with Francis. Bad taste!"

Matthew snorted, "The only reason you can stomach this cardboard is because you were raised by Arthur."

"…Shut up. Maybe if you put another gallon of syrup and a couple more sticks of butter and take a spoon to it, it'll taste better."

"The syrup isn't any better. What do they put in here, maple tree bark?"

"Whatever bro, just shut up and eat the food." Alfred did the same, shoveling in the rest of his hash browns. Well, Alfred would have done the same, if Matthew hadn't continued complaining.

"Just look at them! Perfect circles! No pancake should look that perfect! It should look like you poured the batter onto a freshly buttered griddle, cooked it lightly on both sides so the center is still doughy, and then-mmph!" Matthew was cut off by Alfred's mouth on his own.

After a second, Alfred pulled back, releasing the front of Matthew's shirt. "Shut up, and eat the Goddamn pancakes." He growled, and called the waitress back over, smiling pleasantly. She, on the other hand, held the back of her hand to her nose, eyes wide. "Heh, sorry about him. D'you think I could get another order of hash browns?"

The waitress nodded and scampered away. Matthew stared incredulously at his brother, who gave him an innocent smirk.

"Whut~?"

"…I still don't want the pancakes."

"I guess I'll have to fix that," Alfred noted with a smirk, leaning back in to kiss his brother.

A/N : This was for my friend moxie2000 over on DA. Hope you enjoyed, please review~! Also, requests are open! Rules are on DA page, and there's a link to that on my profile. XD PM me if you would like one.