CakeWalk

The thought which constantly resurfaced in his mind was that there had to be an easier way of doing this. No one could really expect for two people to carry this cake. Not from the inn to downtown. It was stupid. So why were they doing this? And why did Alfred appear to have no second thoughts about doing any of this?

"A little higher, eh! I don't want to be wearing cake!"

"'Kay... is that good?"

"Yeah." For now, Matthew thought wearily. They were far too lopsided. Not themselves, no. They were pretty fair matched in height, Matthew had to admit. Though the town of Hearth was not too big, down town was still down. Slightly. And he and Alfred were a little less matched in their ability to judge slopes. Matthew did not know which one of them kept getting off, but it did not really matter.

This cake was going to fall and they were going to be so screwed.

"Careful there!"

"Oh, sorry!" Matthew turned it slightly, looking up at the cake. Roderich must have put so much work into this. It made him sick to think that they were likely going to drop this before it could be eaten, or even just admired. It was a mixture of this and a failed attempt of covering up awkwardness on Alfred's part that kept the both of them quiet.

At least, until Alfred spoke.

"How'd you do it?"

"Do what, eh?" Matthew asked, mind not completely on the conversation as he was too busy watching the cake, mind telling him that he was going to be wearing it at any moment.

"Get with Ivan." Matthew nearly stopped, but now that they had some sort of constant motion going he thankfully just kept going. "I mean... stay with him. I'm not judging your tastes or anything, that's not what I mean. I just... I..."

Matthew tried to keep up with what Alfred meant, tried to figure it out. When his mind lit on something, however, it nearly made him drop the cake again. "Wait. Are you telling me you've never been on a date before?"

From the other side of the cake, Alfred was quiet. Matthew stared at it, trying to imagine what Alfred's face looked like.

"Eh?"

"It's not that I haven't," Alfred suddenly said. "I've been out with girls before, at college, but I wouldn't call those dates. It was more that they would drag me out to a club or a movie or something. Only occasionally would it be one on one. But I wouldn't call those dates either. At least, not the sort that I... I just don't know."

The man who acted like he was probably the most popular person who lived anywhere and he had never been on a date? Matthew tried to wrap his head around that. Hell, Matthew had been on so many dates during college, he could have regretted half of them if he had not been as high then. "Is that why you don't ask Kiku out?"

"No," Alfred said firmly, but quietly. "I don't ask him because... I just... I'm scared, Matty."

He had only known Alfred for a few months. Thinking about it that way, this did not seem appropriate to be talking about together. At most they were brothers adopted by a couple that split up shortly after having them. That was what Matthew's mind tried to tell him.

Alfred really seemed like his brother. A few months told him that much. They had already come that far. It was strange, but true.

"Of him rejecting you?" Matthew asked, wanting to mention that Kiku was practically flipping out over Alfred as much as he was over Kiku, but managing to shut himself up in time.

"No. Whether he feels the same way or not, I know we'll still be friends."

Matthew was certain if Alfred sounded any more mature then that childish (an act, was it?) demeanor he usually liked to display, his own mind would probably break.

"It just hurts. I dunno why."

And there it went.

From the corner of his eye, Matthew saw the corner. Stepping past it, he saw Gilbert. He still saw Gilbert as Gilbert ran into him.

"Fuck!"

Matthew managed to stay on his feet, though Gilbert had not. He could see Alfred leaning into the wall, but still holding the bottom platform. Gilbert sat up and pushed up on one side of the bottom, straightening it out in an instant.

"Got it?" Gilbert asked, panting.

"Yeah!" Alfred called out his affirmative. Matthew looked at his own side. Perfect still, he could almost not believe it.

"Not a scratch, eh!" Matthew agreed. Gilbert got to his feet and moved about them.

"Sorry 'bout dat!" he put his hands up in a small form of surrender before turning and running off again. Alfred coughed.

"He was just smoking. A lot. Damn, he's probably all nerves strung out."

"Let's just get this inside and down before it does fall over," Matthew sighed. Speaking about nerves, Matthew knew his must be shot. They made it to the door, where Alfred somehow managed to balance his side of the cake and open the side door. It was a total of thirty six steps (Matthew had to think of something) before they set it down on the table.

"Piece of cake!" Alfred laughed, as if nothing disastrous or awkward had happened or almost happened. Matthew sighed, looking up at the cake once more.

Then he blinked. "Alfred?"

"Yeah?" Alfred asked, walking to stand beside him. Matthew nodded toward the cake. Alfred looked at it. And blinked. "Issat...?"

"...I think so."

Ever so slowly, the cake looked like it was crooked. Matthew had to swallow to keep his heart out of his throat. Alfred propped his hands on his hips. "Goddammit," he said plainly.

Matthew was certain that was an understatement.


Notes:

Downtown is down? Do not ask, I still have no idea where anything is in this town. Floating houses we still have.