This was a story for a secret santa gift exchange in the PruCan livejournal group. The original prompt was "Canada doing ecological studies for his government and dragging Prussia out into the woods with him. Basically a camping fic, but with things like water sampling and helping local scientists with population counts, tagging animals, things like that, because I think Canada is secretly a science nerd like his brother, only he likes the less flashy stuff." I'm not a very scientific person, so I did my best! Happy Holidays everyone for whatever you worship!
"Hello, Rana Aurora," Matthew Williams lay on his stomach on a large slab of granite. It overhung a bend of a lake where the water barely moved. A thick layer of rust shaded pond scum covered the area. In it lived a small population of Northern Red-legged Frogs, or Rana Aurora. Gripping his notebook tighter as a male swam towards a female, Matthew scribbled down the frogs' mating rituals. Just as the male crawled up on the female's back, rustling footsteps broke the silence and the frogs scattered back into the water.
An albino man with a smug smile on his face tromped down the hill breaking twigs and kicking up dirt. It was Matthew's boyfriend, Gilbert. He waved to Matt while screaming at the top of his lungs, "Hey! What's taking you so long? I got the fire going and plenty of marshmallows to roast!" Even more frogs dove back into the scummy deep to hide.
"Shhh!" Matt sat up and placed a finger over his lips. "Please keep your voice down. You're scaring my specimens."
"Oh, my bad," Gilbert jumped up onto the slab. Picking up a flat stone, he skipped it across the lake. The scum on the surface broke up around the stone before it finally slipped into the water. "Come on Matthew! This is so boring!"
"Stop that!" Matt hissed back pointing his ball point pen towards his boyfriend. "You're going to disrupt the frogs. You have already disrupted them! Also, that algae is very important to their ecosystem. You know it can strain out pollutants from the water. It's a source of food and-"
"All I heard was blah blah, blah blah blah!" plopping down on the rock beside Matt, Gilbert nudged him. "You know instead of watching these little frogies breed, we can do something along those lines. I only pack us one sleeping bag."
Matthew rolled his eyes and chose to ignore the albino as he flopped back on his tummy. Though it wasn't the most exciting work, he had agreed to help his brother out with research. America was looking for alternate forms of energy and included Canada in this mission. Even though Matthew knew that there was nothing in this lake that would count as alternate energy, he loved watching frogs in their habitat. The amphibians had no cares in the world, no political debates to prepare for, and no boyfriends to bother them about cooking breakfast. It felt like his own little piece of geeky heaven… until Gilbert opened his mouth.
"Maaaaatt," Gil whined and poked his back. "Maaaaaatt, come on. I want to eat marshmallows!"
"Then go eat them!"
"But I want you to make them for me. I always burn mine."
Leaning back over the edge, Matthew frowned. All of the frogs were gone, scared away by his loud boyfriend. "Fine! I'll make your damn marshmallows! Apparently sticking something on a stick and holding it over a fire is way too hard for you." Hopping up, he quickly tiptoed back up the hill careful to not make too much noise.
"What did I do this time?" Gilbert hustled after him, disrupting everything around him. "Is it so bad that I want to spend a little time with you?"
Matthew whirled on him, "We live together. I see you every day."
"Exactly. It's time for you to make dinner." Gilbert shrugged as if this was a common fact. "I really would like some smores for dinner or maybe we can roast up some hotdogs."
Matthew stopped and stared at him. How could he just assume that it was Matt's role to always cook? They had never actually sat down and talked about their roles in the relationship. Over the last three years of dating, it became unspoken that Matthew had the woman's role in the relationship. He was like those frogs. The female would sit there and shove out everything in her body, giving life to the future. Matthew would do the same. He cooked, cleaned, worked, and was the bread winner in the house. He was always on bottom and took it. Gilbert, like the male frogs, swam into his life, pump his seed into Matthew, then would go downstairs and watch television. He didn't have a job, mooched off his boyfriend, and expected life to be dandy. Crossing his arm, Matthew calmly spoke. "No."
"What?" Gilbert stopped and looked to him. "What's the matter?"
"I'm not going to cook dinner. You do it."
"I'm bad at that stuff," Gilbert whined again, making his boyfriend's skin crawl. "Just do it for me."
"No!" Matthew held his ground. "I will not be your frog!"
"My what?"
"Your frog! Your female frog!" Storming up the bank, he left Gilbert in the woods. He stomped into the camp and flopped onto the log by the fire. Eyes burning, he fought to not cry, but the tears welled. Crossing his arms, he hunched over as his shoulders shook.
For once, Gilbert didn't speak. He strode up into the camp and watched his boyfriend for several moments. What the hell did Matt mean by being Gilbert's frog? He didn't ask too much from his boyfriend other than to make dinner…and breakfast and lunch. But that wasn't a lot!
More thoughts streamed through the Prussian's head about his life over the last few years. For example, he would take off his clothes to shower and leave them on the bathroom floor. He never picked them up, and somehow they would reappear in the closet, clean and pressed. Matt always did that for him without complaints.
And when it came to sex… well, that was something that they just didn't talk about. Their first time, Gilbert had topped Matthew easily. Ever since then, that's what always happened. Gilbert sighed and picked up a marshmallow. He always burned them, because he would stick them right in the flame and ignite them. This time, he thought as he jabbed the sweet onto a stick, I'm taking my time. Besides, Matthew wasn't paying attention.
Hovering the marshmallow over the flame, he turned it slowly until it was finally golden brown. It took the longest five minutes he had ever experienced, but it was worth it. A graham cracker and thick piece of Hershey's chocolate later, Gilbert had made a smore. He sat beside Matt and nudged him. "Hey love, you can have the first one."
Lifting his heavy head, Matthew sniffled and eyed the smore, "You made that for me?"
"Yeah, and it's not even burnt."
"I don't…"
"Want a smore?"
"Not that."
"Want to be a frog?"
Matthew took the smore and held it close, "I'm a man too."
Gilbert opened his mouth and closed it again. Wrapping an arm around his boyfriend, he pulled him close and kissed his forehead. "I know you're a man. If that's the problem, I'm sorry. I know that I can be…"
"Overbearing? Insufferable?"
"I was going to say tough," Gil sighed and hugged Matt closer. "We'll work on this. I'll try and learn how to cook, though I can't promise to be as good as you. And when I undress, I'll throw my clothes in the hamper."
"That would be great," Matt tapped the smore with his finger watching the marshmallow stick to the digit. "It would be a big help."
"Tonight, when we do it-"
"Who says we're doing it?"
"-You can be on top."
Matthew stared at Gilbert unsure what to say. With a little smile, he bit into the smore and licked his lips. "I would like that if you don't mind. And this is very good, you know. You might make a good girlie frog yet!"