Cozy in Their Own Little Rocket

Snuggled up on his over stuffed armchair, with his feet daintily tucked up under him, Matthew twisted into, what looked like, a very uncomfortable position, whist napping on one lazy afternoon. Snoring lightly as he flung one of his legs over the arm rest, arching his back like a tabby cat, and almost kicking Kumajirou in the snout. He gave out a small mewl as he turned and curled, even more, into the push velvet chair.

Today was a good day. Alfred was gone to some world meeting, along with Francis and Arthur- one where Matthew would just have been forgotten- and would not be back until tomorrow.

He had intended to curl up and finish a particular piece of literature that had caught his eye. But, seeing as how the book was now on the floor, bookmark astray, and hot tea gone cold, fate would not allow it. Or the amazing fantasy world of his dreams. Because just when he had saved the emerald Pikachu from the evil penguin-like Mudkips and saved Dame Ash Ketchup from the monstrous Charmanders, Alfred burst through the door, into the room, making quite a ruckus. Thus, waking up a groggy Matthew from his dream land.

Groaning, he untangled himself with minimal damage and hauled himself up out to the chair. Bed head ablaze, glasses askew, and disoriented he was dragged into the Den for "family bonding time" as Arthur had put it.

Twirling one of his golden tresses Matthew was yet again curled in a corner of the couch with Alfred in between himself and Francis. Not trusting the poor French-man with his own son because of past "family bonding time" events.

Kumajirou lazily strode into the room looking for his overlooked master. Spotting him, he clambered up on to his lap, and licked his Matthew's hand wanting attention. Which was soon answered when his ears and head were stroked as Matthew watched the ongoing fight that Alfred and Arthur engaged in.

"I am not a stupid little colony! You uptight ass!" Alfred yelled tossing a pillow at Arthur's head. Barley missing by a centimeter.

Francis chuckled his strange, adorable laugh. Said pillow hit him dead on. Now Matthew broke out in giggles, thus earning a pillow to the face, too.

A pillow war had broke out. Matthew and his darling brother, Alfred, against the oldies, Francis and Arthur. Pillows flew, feathers rained from holes gained by grabbing just a little bit to hard, chuckles, giggles, and snorts were heard all around the house, battle cries were yelled, yelps of pain were high pitched and mainly from Arthur and Matthew, glasses were abandoned, and Kumajirou was no where in the mess of feathers and sleepy people. In the end Alfred and Matthew had won. Beating the ones who had once concurred them.

Feeling worn and the tingling afters of pure happiness were the only things left in the heaping mess that was to be clean on another day. Right now, they were cozy in their own little rocket bound for no where.