Pitter-Patter

The rain softly pelted against the roof, creating a soothing effect for the young Canadian. Matthew sighed contentedly, snuggling into the plush covers on his couch. He loved rainy days and the calmness that came with it. What he especially liked to do was gather the softest, warmest blankets he could find and spend the night on his couch, and fall asleep to the gentle pitter-patter of the rain. The new couch he had bought had a pull-out bed, so Matthew was even more comfortable. He stretched lazily, taking up the whole mattress, then relaxed every muscle while sighing again. What pure bliss!, he thought. A lazy smile crept upon his face. Why can't every day be a rainy day? Matthew turned onto his side, with one hand under the pillow and the other pulling the thrice-layered blanket up to his nose. He allowed himself to get lost in the moment and hone in on the rain saying pitter-patter…pitter-patter…
Something pulled Matthew from his zone. He slowly sat up, looking around the living room. The rain was still there, nothing had fallen, he was the only one in the house…thunder perhaps? He shivered. He hated thunder, and lightning; the two came hand in hand. Just to be sure, he waited a moment, still and silent. The disturbance came again; a knock on the door. Matthew lifted an eyebrow. Who would be out at this hour? In a rainstorm, no less? He forced himself from the comfortable encasement of blankets and unlocked the front door. What met him on the other side left him in shock.
"Alfred?" Came his voice in its usual whisper-like tone. His brother stood on the welcome mat, totally drenched with an ashamed look on his face. Alfred couldn't even bring himself to look up at his brother. But this was to be expected; he liked to be self-sustaining, so the thoughts of asking for help appalled him. He took a deep breath and said "Ahh…Mattie? Can I crash here for the night? I kinda…y'know." Matthew nodded, understanding the feeling of being lost for words, and the feeling of defeat. "Come on in." He motioned the other out of the cold and shut the door to the storm.
"Here, um, I'll get some towels? You can change in the bathroom." Matthew scurried off to the hallway closet, hastily grabbing whatever he could find that would soak up water. When he returned Alfred was still standing in the entryway, looking lost and in the wrong place. Matthew threw him a towel. "You can take off your shoes, you know."
"My socks are sopping wet." He explained. Matthew huffed, thinking. Then he laid down a towel, and another, and another, making a line to the bathroom. He looked up. "Take off your shoes and walk on these." Alfred obliged, and when he got into the bathroom Matthew said "Just take off your wet stuff and put them in a grocery bag. There's some in the cabinet under the sink. I'll be back with dry clothes."
He ran down the hall, turned, and ran down another hall to his room. Matthew sifted through his clothes, trying to find a pajama set that Alfred would be content with. He knew AL would pretty much be content with anything he was given at this point, but still. He found a soft blue set with pastel yellow stars; this should be alright. Next he pulled out the top drawer, his underwear drawer. Hopefully they shared an underwear size too. He picked a white pair, and before heading back out grabbed another pillow to throw on the couch.
"Okay Alfred, I got some--holy Jesus!!" Matthew stopped and flattened against the wall at the sight of Alfred/ The American in question turned and snickered. He poked his head around the corner, and with a smirk on his face said. "You said to take off the wet stuff and put 'em in a grocery bag! C'mon, Mattie!" Matthew sighed, then smirked back. "Oh shut up. Just warn me the next time you're gonna parade around in your patriotic boxers." The Canadian rolled his eyes as his brother continued to laugh. Sometimes Al could—something soft whipped at him, and Matthew jumped away. Of course it was Alfred, twirling the towel from earlier and laughing loudly. Matthew sighed, but wasn't too upset. At least his brother wasn't moping anymore. He tossed the clothes one by one, Alfred picking them out of the air. "Thanks bro" He said and slipped back into the bathroom. He emerged seconds later donning the Canadian's clothes. Matthew let him lay on the couch as he picked up the bag of soggy clothing. The two of them would deal with that tomorrow.
When Matthew returned Alfred wasn't in the living room but in the kitchen, raiding the fridge. When he noticed the Canadian he asked "Got any food?"
"Like…?"
"A hamburger." Matthew mentally ran through a list of food in the house. "…Nope."
Alfred oaned. "Aww, come on! I didn't find any burger places up here at all! Not even a Micky D's! Can you believe that?" He shut the fridge door and sat at the table. "What do you have, then?"
Now Matthew was bent over, head in the fridge, as he tried to find a meal for his American guest.
"Cold cuts?"
"No."
"Half a pack of ramen?"
"Nah."
"Carrots?"
"No."
Matthew was lost. What else do Americans eat?, he thought. He hated trying to figure out how to feed Alfred; they usually went out to eat when they visited each other, so Matthew never had this problem. He spied a Tupperware on the top shelf, and peered into it. "Re-heated pancakes?"
Alfred thought about that. "Sure." He said finally. And so the pancakes were put on a plate and stuck in the microwave for six minutes. He turned to Alfred. "Want syrup?" The American nodded. "What would you like to drink?"
"Got any Dr. Pepper?"
"I have milk and water." Alfred thought.
"A glass of milk." After two more minutes he had everything he asked for, and Matthew watched as his brother ate. Alfred turned to Matthew, who was sitting on the counter. "You want some?" He asked through a mouthful of pancake. The Canadian shook his head, and help up his glass of water. "I got this." The American laughed a little. "Mattie, you know water can't fill you up."
"Alfred that's your food. You just came inform the cold. Just eat it, please."
He grumbled something like "Alright…" and continued to munch.
When they were finally tucked in on the couch Alfred wouldn't stop talking. "So you know who Japan released Pokemon Black and White recently? There's this thing on it called Game Sync, and it lets you make an online account and stuff and you upload a part of your save data to a world-linked thingy. You put your Pokemon to sleep and you can play with your Pokemon in the Dream World, which is online at the official site. I'm really excited, 'cause it was supposed to come out on March 31st but 'cause of the quake it was cancelled. I was really anxious to try it out too, so I was sad when it was—"
"Alfred, haven't you ever listened?" For once the American was silent. "To what?" he whispered.
"To the rain."
Alfred shook his head. "Nope."
"Well, try it." Both were quiet, honing in on the pitter-patter, pitter-patter. "…What am I listening for"
"How does it sound?"
"…Like rain? I dunno." Matthew sighed. "Like…isn't it calming?" The rain filled the silence.
"Yeah…" Alfred adjusted under the covers, moving closer to his brother. They both stared at the ceiling, listening to the water trickle off the roof, down the gutter, and into a puddle. The wind blew—it must have been gusting at about forty miles an hour. That made both brothers take deep breaths, and Alfred even wiggled his hand into Matthew's. They held hands under the covers, concentrating on the sounds of the storm as they fell deeper and deeper out of consciousness.
"It's nice…" Alfred said, before closing his eyes. Matthew nodded slightly. "Yeah…that's why I love rain." The American smiled. "I think I do too now." He said. But the Canadian hadn't heard, for he was already drifting further and further away. Soon Alfred joined him, as the rain continued its soft pitter-patter…pitter-patter…pitter-patter…

~End~