Didn't Forget
It was something close to 5 in the morning when his doorbell rang, and kept ringing. Matthew rubbed the sleep from his eyes, running his fingers through his hair and wondering who the hell would be at his door today of all days, the day when he was most alone, despite the fire works and the joy of his people and being just another measly year older.
How old was he now? 143? 143 painful years of invisibility?
He sighed as the doorbell kept ringing, gathering himself up and leaving Kumajirou asleep among the soft cushions. He mumbled softly to himself, rubbing his tummy to get it to quiet until the person was gone and he could make pancakes and quietly sing happy birthday to himself before crawling back into bed to enjoy the national holiday.
"Coming, I'm coming." He opened the door, and was met with a bright white and purple flower in a little clay pot, its stem held steady by a little bamboo stick. And it took him a moment to realize that it was Alfred behind the purple flower. His eyes widened in surprise. Alfred.
Alfred was there at his door step, holding what looked suspiciously like a gift, blushing and grinning and eying him nervously. "Look, Mattie, I didn't forget this year! Do you like it? Is it good? I thought you liked orchids, so I got you one to put in your kitchen and–!" He faltered, staring into Matthew's suddenly damp eyes, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth, expression dimming. "Wh-what's wrong, Mattie? Did I screw up? Are you allergic?"
Matthew shook his head, steadying himself against the doorframe and taking a shaky breath. "Y-you remembered." he murmured, feeling an ache he thought he had buried long ago in his chest. Alfred, of all people, wasn't supposed to remember. No one was supposed to remember. Just when he had gotten used to the loneliness, the sadness, Alfred had to go and smash it with this... apparent kindness.
"O-of course I remembered, Mattie. I know I don't always...pay attention but..." Alfred had the decency to blush, eyes flicking to Matthew's soft lips as though he craved them before moving back to his eyes. "That doesn't mean I don't l-love– I mean, just because I don't always remember, or see...I mean –!"
"Alfred." Matthew hissed, hand fisting in the brown bomber jacket and pulling Alfred close. Alfred quieted, gulping softly as Matthew's tempting lips were practically presented to him, begging to be kissed, turned an appealing shade of red, left swollen.
"Yes Mattie?"
"Shut up, kiss me, and wish me a happy birthday." Alfred grinned his famous million kilowatt smile, pulling Matthew in for a sweet kiss right there on his door step, the orchid forgotten in his hand as he pushed Matthew against the doorframe, delving deeper. Matthew tasted sweet, and he savored it, memorized it, before pulling away and looking at Matthew's flushed face, listening to his quiet pants and feeling the hot breath against his neck.
"Happy birthday, Mattie." Somewhere in the distance, the sun started over the horizon.