Chapter 20: A Change in Pace

It was Tuesday again. Exactly one week since Gilbert was forcibly reminded about is (lack of) place in the world and decided to disappear. He should still be in the binge eating ice cream/drinking himself under a table phase of heartbreak; maybe even in a state of emotional confusion which bordered on comatose.

But when Gilbert woke up with an overwhelming ache, it was physical rather than emotional and it covered the entire expanse of his body instead of being centralized around his heart. With a groan, he rolled over in bed, lamenting the soreness of his muscles. If he thought he was in pain yesterday…

Yet, when he remembered why he put himself through hell the day before, Gilbert smiled, just a little. The knowledge that he was the first person to do something selflessly for Matthew made him fell like a superhero and, for a moment, could wipe the pain away. Of course, that moment was fleeting and Gilbert was back to being in a breathing body ache in less than a second, but he didn't regret his actions. Not. One. Bit.

Still, stretches and a hot bath seemed necessary if he was to be moving like a human rather than a poorly oiled machine today. Maybe even a massage… thought successfully diverted.

Gilbert honestly could see no way skating today would be easy or enjoyable. The bet dictated that he does whatever Matthew wanted for today and tomorrow and Matthew dictated that hockey was their activity. He was honor-bound to follow though and he fully intended to. Just…after a long, hot bath.

Matthew was already downstairs, cooking up a late breakfast as he hung up the phone. The phone call he just ended was expected, if a bit late. Excited about the news he received, Matthew began to hum whatever tune came to mind and glanced briefly at the clock, noting the late hour. He allowed himself to sleep longer than usual, feeling a little exhausted from the activity of the past couple days, but happy. He was a firm believer that variety was not a bad thing and French toast with bacon, eggs and strawberries seemed like a good change. If anything, Gilbert's body would surely appreciate the protein after yesterday.

Speak of the devil, Matthew thought as signs of life began to filter through the ceiling indicating that his friend had emerged from his sleep. The smile that appeared on his face wilted as he noticed a change in the usual nature of the sounds. Gilbert always moved purpose, haste, and feline grace. His footsteps were quick and light, not the sort to cause the haltingly clunky noises filtering down through the ceiling. Yet, clumsy they were and a sudden set of thumps followed by a barely audible groan suggested that Gilbert had actually managed to trip over something, perhaps even his own feet. Matthew winced as he realized the cause in the sudden change to his friend; Gilbert must be significantly sore from yesterday's activities. It only made sense, he supposed. Even though they technically weren't human, the skills Gilbert had learned and had pushed himself to practice for hours the day before took a toll on his body and his progress was astonishing. But that sort of effort should not be duplicated and, Matthew knew, that is exactly Gilbert would do, specifically for him. Why, he couldn't say because it was a completely bizarre concept he had to face: someone going through extraordinary lengths to do something for him.

Mathew had known for years that he was unremarkable. It was just a fact that was ingrained into his psyche from a young age. Alfred was the strong one, the troublemaker, the prize to be fought over viciously. Later, he became the boisterous leader who forced the world to notice him. But Matthew? Matthew who? If he allowed his invisibility to upset him, he would never be anything but. He had accepted it because what else could he do?

So when Gilbert looks at him in a crowd like he is the only one who matters, when he pushes past pain to do something to make Matthew happy, when he seems content just to be with the Canadian, everything Mathew has known about himself for centuries is called into question. If Gilbert can see him for who he is, why not everyone else? Why not Francis, the man who styled himself as a father but gave him up effortlessly? Or Arthur, who became like a second brother? Or even Carlos, with whom he had so much potential? Matthew's hands tightened painfully around the frying pan and spatula, bringing him back to the now slightly burned piece of French toast in front of him and the sound of someone descending the stairs to his right.

Schooling his face, Matthew turned to Gilbert with a welcoming smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Taking in the tightness around Gilbert's eyes and mouth, even the smile faded. "Gil, are you-"

"Morning, Birdie!" Gilbert responded enthusiastically, obviously trying to act like everything was all right. He was failing, miserably. His posture was too stiff and his eyes were too distracted. He telegraphed his pain to anyone who took the time to look and Matthew was no exception. "Smells good. What did you make?"

Matthew stared at him for a minute then pursed his lips. Fine, he thought. We won't talk about it. "Strawberries, eggs, French toast, and bacon. Yours comes with a side of aspirin." He cast a sharp look at the Prussian as he opened his mouth to protest the inclusion of painkillers. "You're not fooling me, Gil. Could you please get yourself something to drink that's not orange juice?

Gilbert, fairly shocked at the sternness in Matthew's voice, could only chuckle as he recognized statement as a politely worded order. A small smirk appeared as he responded with a bemused, "Yes, sir."

Matthew just rolled his eyes at his friend as he finished the last of the toast and flipped the bacon. "I've decided what we're going to do today."

Gilbert looked up from the refrigerator and frowned at Matthew. "What do you mean? I thought you were going to teach me how to play hockey as part of the bet."

Matthew smiled a little as he plated the last of the food. "The deal was that the winner decided what we would do for the next three days. So we'll do whatever I want today and tomorrow, and I don't want to teach you hockey today."

"Is apple juice okay with you, too?"

"Sure."

Gilbert poured two cups of juice and couldn't fight the urge to tease the Canadian. So he made a considering noise in the back of his throat, inviting the predictable frown from Matthew who was retrieving the pills from a drawer on the other side of the kitchen.

"What?"

Placing the glasses on the table, Gilbert grinned as he wiggled his eyebrows at Mathew and said, "Whatever you want, huh?"

Matthew turned red in an instant and gave him a light shove while barely managing to sputter out, "Gil! You know I didn't mean it like that!"

"Right," Gilbert teased as he sat down stiffly. His legs were more than happy with his new position though his bum protested. He couldn't help the slight cringe on his face.

Matthew sat down with a mixed expression of annoyance, amusement and concern. "You're lucky you are in pain right now, otherwise I would be tempted to withhold pancakes until further notice."

Gilbert paused in raising the painkillers to his mouth. "You wouldn't."

Matthew responded with a 'try me' expression on his face as he took the first bite of his food.

"Okay, so maybe you would. Truce?" Taking in Matthew's easy (if a little smug) smile, all was well again. Gilbert began to eat. "Thanks for breakfast, by the way."

"It's no problem. I like cooking."

"It's still appreciated. So, if we aren't skating today, what are we doing?"

"I just got a call from the airport. Apparently, your bike is waiting for you. I was…well." For some reason, Matthew was suddenly embarrassed about his desired activity for the day. He felt his face heat up and he fixed his eyes on his food. "We need to go pick it up today."

Gilbert heard what wasn't being said and asked in a serious tone, "Would you like me to take you for a ride, Birdie?"

Matthew looked up and deep blue met crimson over the food which was forgotten for the moment. "Yes," Matthew said quietly in what was nearly a whisper. Gilbert read the word from his lips more than actually hearing it. His pulse began to pick up and tension grew until Matthew blinked and began to stumble over his words to normalize the space between them. "I mean- if you wouldn't mind? It's just I never been on a motorcycle and-"

"Birdie, I would love to take you. But my bike was custom built for one, I'm sorry. We could try to squeeze two but I don't think that-"

"No, no. It's fine. It was just a thought, that's all." Mathew tried to laugh it off but his disappointment was evident. "We still should go pick up your bike in any case. Then I'm all for a quiet day at home, if you don't mind."

Gilbert chuckled. "Not at all. But we could always rent one. A bike equipped for two, I mean. It wouldn't be difficult."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course," Gilbert resumed eating his breakfast with new purpose. "Wow, this is good. Do you mind if I take a bath first? It might help with the soreness- which isn't all that bad, by the way. I'm fine; I just need a little R&R before I do something too strenuous."

Matthew didn't look any less concerned than he did when Gilbert first mentioned being in pain, but he could take a hint. "Help yourself."

A/N:

Now beta'd by the wonderful and patient Masterliful! All other mistakes are my own.

Thanks for reading.

Song: See next chapter (which this is technically a part of)