Matthew never had a problem with changing in front of Gilbert. It was comfortable, it was non-judgmental, and more than anything it felt safe. When the other guys were around, constantly looking and slapping and joking… it just made his skin crawl.

It wasn't that Gilbert didn't look and laugh and, alright, his friendly touches tended to linger, but coming from him it just made him feel warm with a pleasant sort of curl in his stomach.

He hated that it was different today.

"Gil, would you please stop glaring at me?"

Gilbert grunted from across the room where he was leaning dejectedly against the lockers. "I ain't glaring, Matt. I'm just wondering where your common sense went."

Matthew threw him a look. "My common sense is fine, Gilbert," he said icily. He pulled the jersey on over his padding before sitting, setting to work on the skates.

Gilbert wobbled over on his skate guards, kneeling in front of Matt to help with the blades. "Is it his looks? I mean, I get how some people could think he's so gorgeous and French and all, but I take one look at his face and all I can think is smelly cheese, cheating lying bastard, smelly cheese."

He looked up as he heard a small hiccough of laughter. Mattie was blushing brilliantly with a hand clapped over his mouth, hiding his smile and chuckles. Gil finished with the skates and kneeled up until he was eyelevel with the smaller, slouching Canadian. Quirking a sad, wry grin, he removed Matthew's hand from his mouth.

Watching Matthew's blush deepen from the sudden proximity and the gesture, he quietly said, "Birdie, he cheated on you with loads of different people, made you feel absolutely miserable, and you're still taking him back. Laughing at a joke made at his expense is the least of what he deserves."

"Gil…" Matthew stared back at him, his brow pinched and mouth slightly pouting in concern. "Nothing's official. I'm not… I'm not quite sure yet. But please, let me come to a decision on my own."

The albino nodded slowly in understanding. He could see the logic in that. If he pressured Matt to dump the prick, or told him his feelings too soon… it would either push the Canadian away, or never allow him the closure he needed with… Francis.

Gilbert stood, not allowing himself to think about how he had been close enough to steal a kiss, and pulled Matthew up off the bench. And goddamn if the kid hadn't overbalanced and fallen against his chest, hands meek and flat against his pectorals, eyes looking into his face wide and doe-like with surprise, somehow managing to look so enticingly innocent and adorable even with the bulky gear on.

Gilbert's brain was nothing but buzzing for a full five seconds while staring into his beautiful Birdie's face, and had he not been so completely stunned by the kid, he probably would have attacked his mouth and invaded his vital regions without even registering what he was doing.

He stood Mattie up straight to avoid doing just that, and though he missed the boy against his chest, he consoled himself with the thought that he had been the first to move away, not Matthew.

"Oh – eh – sorry about that…" Matt blushed and stuttered.

"It's fine, Mattie!" Gilbert waved his hand nonchalantly, as though he hadn't been seconds away from sucking on the Canadian's tongue. "Now let's go!" He strode out the door with Matthew right behind him, ready to kick some ass.

* * * * *

As Matthew slid out onto the ice, he couldn't help a small sigh of happiness. This was where he felt at home, a feeling so very rare in his life – as though he really belonged. On his way to the center with Gilbert, he saw Francis waving him over from the side, and grinning, he glided over.

"Hey, you!" Matthew chirped happily as he came to a stop.

"Bonjour, mon petit," Francis answered with a smile. "I just wanted to wish you good luck with your game."

"Thanks, Francis! I still have a few minutes to warm up though, eh?"

"And it's not like he needs it anyway." Mattie looked over at the new voice – it appeared that Gilbert had decided to take the detour with him. "Birdie's got it all under control!"

While looking at Gilbert, Matthew didn't the hostile glare Francis sent to the German. By the time he looked back, the Frenchman was gently smiling once again before leaning forward to the Canadian. "Un baiser pour bonne chance, oui?" (*) Francis purred, tilting up Mathieu's chin to give him a soft kiss.

He expected Gilbert to react badly to this movement, but he didn't see a negative reaction coming from Matthew. For the split second that he leaned in to the kiss, all hell broke loose from the other two men. Gilbert swore furiously and firmly pushed Francis' chest back, while Mattie yelped and suddenly skated – backwards – a few meters away in what seemed like a millisecond. Francis stared at the other blond in confusion.

"Mon cher, what's wrong?"

The Canadian looked distressed, and immediately skated back to the Frenchman. "Oh, I'm so sorry Francis, it's just –"

"Have you completely lost your mind, you idiot?!" The albino cut Mattie off to hiss into Francis' face. "Have you forgotten where we are? You're fucking lucky no one saw that. Not because I'm worried about your fucking safety – believe me, that's the last thing on my mind – but Christ! You'd make Mattie the main target of every single fucking homophobe who's about to get out on this ice!"

Francis' eyes widened as he turned to look at Matt. "Oh Mathieu, I'm so sorry."

Matthew smiled reassuringly and was quick to assure Francis that it was fine. "I'll make it up to you after the game, okay?"

Francis smiled back. "Perfect. I'll be waiting!"

Matthew skated to the center of the ice, followed by Gilbert who was having yet another glaring competition with Francis.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

* A kiss for good luck, yes?

Up next - we find out exactly how Matthew turns from such a sweet, timid boy to a hockey-puck eating machine. SPOILER: the answer is smexy ;D