Heyo!

This is another NorCan chapter because this ship is taking over the world (trust me. I've got a ship from zero to hero before *cough* Skitz *cough*) and also adorable factor.

You can probably guess from the awkward material here that I am very much single and have never actually gone on a date. All factual inaccuracies can be blamed on my relationship status.

Thanks to everyone that reviewed the last chapter (9 people? 9? THANK YOU SO MUCH!). May your maple syrup become your staple food.

P.S. NaNoWriMo starts tomorrow, but I'll try to write a third chapter for this when I have spare time. Let me know what you'd like to see in a review :)

Always For You: Pancakes Or Waffles?

Should he go dressy, or casual? A suit, or jeans and a t-shirt? Or in between? What was in between anyway?

It was official. Mattie was one hundred thousand percent screwed.

The blonde let out a high pitched whine, thumping his head against the wall. What had he let himself in for? Maple, even the mere thought of his impeding date (read: impending doom) was making his brain ache!

How was he even supposed to act even slightly normal tonight? When he couldn't even decide what to wear?

Canada was close to calling France for advice, before he shivered an retracted his hand. He had a clear idea of what the nation would say...

'Just jump 'im, mon petit Mathieu! Ohonhonhonhon-'

No.

The Canadian thumped his head against the wall again, before glancing at his reflection.

He'd done well until he'd climbed out of the shower. Then the costume worries had begun, attacking him with claws and pitchforks.

Was a suit too much? What if Norway didn't dress up and Canada put him off or if he did and Canada changed to jeans-

Why had his self-styled 'parental figures' never taught him how to dress for a date? England had barely been around, and then France only seemed to teach Canada the ways of 'l'amour' (which was basically the trick to sleeping with each and every nation in the space of a decade).

Google could only help him so far. And now Canada was standing in front of the only full-length mirror in his house, looking up and down and back up again. Eyes searching for every tiny imperfection that Norway might notice...

This couldn't be healthy. Canada pushed a hand through his blonde hair, avoiding his curl with accustomed expertise. This wasn't healthy.

Forty minutes later found Canada standing in front of the Norwegian's front door, hand poised over the dark oak wood to knock.

Canada took a deep breath, the memory of the kiss filling his head, before he closed his eyes and knocked three times, in quick succession.

When the front door was opened, all the air was knocked out of Canada's lungs. Norway was stood on the other side of the door, no apparent emotion on his face - much like normal.

But he was wearing a suit - a flattering suit, no less - and all of Canada's worries fluttered away. He hadn't messed this up.

"Are you ready to go?"

It took Matthew a few moments to realise that he was being spoken to, and his face flushed up as he nodded.

Always the gentleman, Lukas offered Mattie his arm, which the Canadian took gratefully. He glanced at the older nation out of the corner of his eye.

He wasn't sure what was appropriate to say in this situation. He'd been on a handful of dates, sure. But this felt kind of different - well, for one thing Norway hadn't mistaken Canada for his brother ('yet...' an evil little voice said in his head). And Canada had been the one to actually ask Norway-

"Do you prefer pancakes or waffles?"

Canada looked at Norway in abject amazement that he had actually asked that question. "Pancakes, of course!" he replied, slightly defensively.

A flicker of a smile played at the corner of Lukas's mouth. "I was just making sure that you had good taste," he said evenly.

Well. Maybe there was more to the Norwegian than first met the eye.

After a meal where the food was divine and the company only a little worse (mainly due to the maple syrup. Maple syrup won out over any and all companions), Lukas leant backwards in his chair, regarding the Canadian over templed fingers.

Come to think of it, he hadn't accepted a date for centuries. But then again, he had pulled the first move on the Canadian.

Matthew had just been kind enough to respond.

"I had a lovely time," Mattie was saying, violet eyes lit up by the little light above their table. "Thank you."

Lukas gave him a small smile and a quiet nod, standing up and offering the Canadian a hand. "As did I," he responded slowly. "Thank you, once again."

It got a little awkward after that, but the silence soon softened into a mutual pause, during which Lukas made an mental excuse about being cold to lean in closer to the comforting warmth of Matthew.

Luckily the Canadian didn't seem to mind, wrapping his arm around Lukas's shoulders as they walked along the street.

"Lukas?"

"Hmm?"

"Pancakes or waffles for lunch next week?"