To Lose a Canadian: PruCan

It was much too early for this. Gilbert cracked one red eye open and quickly closed it again. The sunlight that was filtering weakly through the partially closed curtains was just a bit too bright for his liking. He snuggled back under the covers when he noticed a problem: there was a certain Canadian warmth missing.

Gilbert groaned, not wanting to venture from beneath the deep red down comforter but not wanting to go back to sleep without his favourite fiancé to cuddle with. He knew it was a tendency of the Canadian to steal all of the top blanket and huddle in some obscure corner of the bed.  All Gilbert had to do was find him.

Now finding a person on a bed shouldn’t be that hard but this bed was special. Matthew had wanted just a normal bed, one big enough for the two of them with modest pricing and accented with modest blankets. He regretting ever letting Gilbert accompany him to the store. Gilbert had wondered off while Matthew was looking at the decently priced queens when he found the mother of all beds. He couldn’t even cover the whole thing if he tried. Matthew had had to deal with Gilbert’s puppy dog eyes and begging until he gave into his fiancé’s ridiculous wishes and bought the extra-large bed (approximately the size of a king and a full smashed together.)

First thing that Gilbert had done when they got it home was through red and black accents all over the bed then dive under the heavy covers. Matthew had walked up and poked the lump now taking residence in his bed. With a yelp he was dragged forcefully under the covers into the small burrow-like area the Prussian had made. Gilbert shoved his way into the Canadian’s space, snuggling his cold nose against Matthew’s neck and bodily wrapping around him. Matthew had merely laid there for a moment before he registered what had happened and pressed a kiss to the silvery locks, settling in for a nap.

It wasn’t until a few mornings after they got it, when Gilbert discovered the sheer size of the bed. He had woken up and sat up, feeling at a loss without the blond strands tickling his nose like they usually did whenever Matthew slept on his chest. He had patted down the covers, searching for the other, even considering getting out of bed to search the house when he noticed a small bundle off on the side of the bed. The sneaky devil had managed to escape Gilbert’s death grip sometime during the night and pull the throw blanket over himself as he migrated to the very far edge of the bed. If Gilbert didn’t know the Canadian and his sleeping habits, he would have said a simple twitch would have sent Matthew crashing to the floor but the man rarely moved in his sleep and could sleep without danger anywhere.  Though this time around, Matthew had moved, which Gilbert did not like.

It became a daily occurrence for Gilbert to awake to find the Canadian curled in some small corner. At times he would simply watch the other sleep with a soft smile on his face. He couldn’t believe that this wonderful man wanted to spend the rest of his life with him. Him! Of all people! He, who had enough emotional baggage to drag down the most sane and normal person; let alone someone who had problems of their own. But Matthew didn’t care about that. Gilbert had helped him when he was in a time of need and now Matthew would always be there in return. The day Gilbert had set eyes on Matthew as he leaned over the edge of that building in the cold night he knew he had seen an angel – minus the fluffy white wings and glowing halo. Gilbert may have been the one doing the saving at the moment, but if only Matthew knew all he did for Gilbert then he would see what a saint he truly is.

Other times, Gilbert would slowly sneak up on the slumbering body and then pounce. He would proceed to roll back with a sleep deprived blond in tow and make his mighty blanket fort once more. Gilbert may have enjoyed this method but it was not one of Matthew’s favourites; most of the time Matthew would end up getting up and making his way to the kitchen, sleepily making his coffee and maple syrup before grabbing the ingredients for pancakes. Gilbert would groan and follow, not wanting burnt food and especially not wanting a burned Birdie. A sleepy Birdie was always better than an injured Birdie.

This morning Gilbert felt different. He knew Matthew was somewhere off to the side but he didn't want to wake the other fully and didn’t want to remain awake himself. He threw an arm out of his warm cave and started to clumsily feel around. He found something warm and soft but the tail told him it was Krieger wrapped around the little tan puff ball known as Paix. His feathery friend chirped wearily at him from atop the white blob that grumbled at the disturbance as Gilbert’s hand passed close by. How the hell could Gilbert find all the animals easier than he could his fiancé!?

Gilbert pried open his scarlet eyes once more and peeked out from under the covers. His hand snagged a black blanket then snaked its way underneath finally feeling skin. Gilbert crawled over and gently pulled his lover back to the centre, encasing them both in the blanket cocoon. There was a muttered saying as the blond curled around his newfound warmth as Gilbert kissed his head.

‘Morning Gil,’ Matthew mumbled sleepily.

‘Morgen Birdie, though I think we should make our morning wait a bit longer,’ Gilbert replied.

Matthew nodded drowsily; his eyes still closed, and let his head drop back to Gilbert’s chest, his breath already slowing.

‘Oh Birdie, one thing though,’ Gilbert paused, repressing a slight snicker, as he got a hummed reply. ‘Either we have too many animals or we need a bigger bed.’