Matthew felt accomplished.

He'd taken his Calculus mid-term that morning (confident he'd aced it), and he was ahead in all of his other classes. Now, returning to the apartment he shared with his brother, he figured he could spend the afternoon relaxing and not feel guilty.

"I'm home!" Matthew called, closing the door behind him. There was no answer, and seeing how Alfred's door was closed, he most likely had his headphones on, immersed in this week's virtual reality. Best not to bother him, in case he was recording.

Toeing off his shoes, Matthew puzzled over what he could do. He hadn't sat down to watch TV in a while. That sounded pretty good. And maybe something to snack on. His stomach twinged lightly, telling him that a full meal would be too much, but a little something would be most welcome.

But what should I get, Matthew pondered. He stood in the middle of the little kitchen, eyes glancing over cabinets and counters. Opening the cabinets and fridge to peek inside might help him decide, but Matthew resisted the urge. He already knew what they had. Then again, Alfred could have eaten anything and everything. Come to think of it, when was the last time they went shopping? Should he make a list soon?

It occurred to Matthew that he had been staring at the refrigerator for fifteen minutes, lost in thought and accomplishing nothing. He laughed at himself and checked to see if they had chips. There were Doritos and classic potato chips. He could munch on some of those while he watched TV. But wait, Matthew would bicker at Alfred for doing the same thing. "Chips are for meals, not snacks," he would say every time he'd find his brother gobbling down a bag and leaving crumbs all over the couch cushions. Really, Matthew wouldn't mind him snacking on chips, if it weren't for him being messy and able to eat a whole bag in one sitting.

Ice cream could be good then. They had enough left for one more bowl. And Matthew wouldn't be hypocritical if he ate some of the chips with the ice cream. He could toss some of the potato chips over the chunks of vanilla ice cream, then he could drizzle chocolate syrup over everything!

"Yum," Matthew said, smiling down at his creation. He totted the glass bowl into the living room and sat down to watch TV.

Hardly five minutes had passed when uncertainty twisted his stomach.

What if he did have an assignment and he was just forgetting? Or one of his professors might have posted something. Maybe he should check his email. . .

Alfred's bedroom door slammed open.

"MATTIE, DO I LOOK ATTRACTIVE?"

Matthew may have squeaked in terror. Just a little bit.

"Are you out of your mind?" Matthew demanded. Lucky for Alfred he didn't drop his bowl of ice cream. "What are you thinking, being so loud? We have neighbors."

"Let them hear! We have an emergency of epic proportion!"

"By we I assume you mean you. And do you have to stand in front of the TV? I'm trying to watch."

"Bro, this is more important than your stupid cartoon ninjas. Get with the program!"

"Says the guy who has religiously watched every episode of Dora the Explorer," Matthew countered. Unimpressed with the spectacle Alfred put on, Matthew paused his show and resigned himself to his snack.

"Don't rag on Dora, man. She helped me through Spanish classes in high school."

"Mm."

"Hey, what are you eating?" Alfred asked. Classic Alfred, with the attention span of a goldfish.

"Ice cream with potato chips and chocolate syrup."

"Eugh, why'd you get a weird topping like that? At least you left off the pickles this time."

"Oh, I thought I forgot something!"

"Dude, no, you should pair something better with ice cream. Like buttery popcorn! Wait, didn't I come in here for some reason?"

Alfred stood in the middle of the living room, lost in thought much like Matthew had been earlier in the kitchen. Matthew wondered if it would be too rude to get up and walk away before being dragged into whatever crazy plan Alfred had cooked up.

"Oh yeah!" Alfred exclaimed, snapping his fingers in triumph. "I need you to tell me if I look attractive."

". . .what?"

"Am I hot or what? Jeez, it's an easy question."

"Um, I don't think I'm comfortable answering that."

"Why not? Am I pretty? Just tell me I'm pretty."

Alfred leaned over Matthew, putting his face right in front of Matt's so that he could better judge Alfred's prettiness.

Matthew cringed back into the couch. "Could you not get so close to me when asking strange questions?"

"Then look at me. Do my clothes match? How's my hair?"

Matthew sighed and turned back to him. He pushed Alfred away to get a better look at him. Alfred complied and spun this way and that, posing to show off all his angles. A bit overkill, but Matthew took in his outfit regardless. Most days, Alfred wore a t-shirt and sweat pants, shorts, or jeans if he felt like 'dressing up'. "Jeans are not formal," Matthew would remind him. He didn't have to say that now though. Alfred had on a sandy sweater with a white collared shirt peeking out from underneath. If that wasn't enough, he had on khaki pants too.

"Why are you dressed like Dad?" Matthew asked.

Alfred smiled and ran a hand down his front to smooth out any wrinkles. "Spiffy, yeah?"

"You're even wearing a tie," he commented, staring at the dark green tie tucked under the sweater. "Who are you?"

"I'm you, just better in every way."

"Ha ha," Matthew said in a monotone. "No really, do you have a date or something?"

Alfred wiggled in barely contained excitement. "No, it's not really like that. Maybe. I dunno. But guess what happened! I contacted Arthur and he totally agreed to skype me today. Isn't that awesome?"

"Arth—you mean the cat guy?"

"Yes, Arthur. I'm gonna talk to Arthur."

"Alright, I get it. So why are you so worried about how you look?"

"I'm not worried," Alfred denied. He tried to look indifferent for all of a moment before he succumbed and started gushing, "He's just got a way about him, ya know? Like the way he talks, and what he says, and the way he looks, and he just—nnnnngggghh, I don't want him to think I'm some uneducated hobo."

"Boy, you've got it bad," Matthew sighed. "You look fine Alfred."

"Just fine? That means I'm ugly, right?"

"Alfred, you're not ugly. If I said you were ugly, then I would be saying I look ugly too, seeing as how we're twins, and I'm not ugly. . . I think."

"Yeah, you're right. You do look like me, just a boring, watered down version."

Matthew threw one of the couch pillows at him, shouting, "Would you just leave already and go on your skype date with the cat guy!"

Alfred cackled and retreated to the safety of his bedroom, throwing a, "Wish me luck, bro!" over his shoulder.

"That guy doesn't know when to grow up," Matthew said as he resumed watching anime and eating potato chip ice cream.

Sorry for the short update tease, but the legit stuff will go down in the next chapter. The next chapter is halfway done, so I'll get it up by this weekend.

A surprise Matthew point of view! Not even I was expecting it honestly. I wanted to keep switching between Arthur and Alfred exclusively, but it just wasn't working for Al at this part. Matthew's perspective came far more naturally surprisingly. I had fun with his, how worried and scatterbrained Matthew is. These different perspectives are pretty fun. I hope you guys don't mind. Someone even suggested doing a chapter from Jasper's perspective, which I'm seriously considering for later. But yeah, I want to flesh out Alfred and Arthur's lives a bit more, which includes the people around them.

Also, I still can't believe that it is completely canon that America loves Dora and Canada loves Naruto. These dorks, I can't even. And their weird tastes in food too. It's pretty canon that America likes some ridiculous food. I don't know about Canada, but he seems like the type to throw some weird things together and not even realize it's weird. Oh, and it's also canon that America has insecurity issues, so I wanted to reflect that here.