Week 4: Gilbert/Matthew

As he waited for Gilbert in front of the hockey arena, Matthew was surprised at himself for not acting a nervous wreck, for once. Yet it made sense, because really, what’s the worst that could happen? It would just be him at a hockey game with a date and—

He froze having a sudden realization. It would be him. At a hockey game. Which would be perfectly okay if he were with anyone other than someone he was trying to impress. Matthew tried not to worry, telling himself that he just had to try not to lose himself in the game.

He didn’t think he’d be able to look Gilbert in the eye afterward if he embarrassed himself badly enough.

(fff- I suck at starting, don't mind me.)

Gilbert arrived outside of the massive building with the tickets for his date and himself. A date...the second full date with Matthew. He wasn't sure he could keep himself from smiling like an idiot. Instead, he allowed himself to fall back into his old faithful crooked half grin. At least he could look mischievous rather than like a smitten school girl.

He rolled his eyes, then spotted Matthew among other hockey fans. He waved his hand over his head to catch the young man's attention and progressed through the light crowd.

"Hey there." He smiled and handed the blond his ticket. "So...who's your choice to win?"

Gilbert was clueless when it came to most sports, and other than hockey's court similarities with futball and basketball, he didn't know much. He knew that teeth could go missing, white guys apparently excelled at it, and Canadians loved it.

(You rock at starting. I'm always so random.)

Matthew smiled as he noticed Gilbert among the crowd, giving a small wave. “Hello!”

“It’s against Pittsburgh, right? I think I’ll be rooting for the Maple Leafs instead, then,” Matthew said, though he couldn’t help but feel like it was an understatement. He was rarely, if ever, this passive about hockey, but he had to remember to control himself as to not freak out his date. He just had to convince himself that he could have a perfectly good time without doing anything that would cause him to make a complete fool of himself. And that was possible…right?

He checked his watch, figuring that they should probably head inside now.

He smiled. "Well then that's who I'll root for as well." Gilbert took in Matthew's body language and he seemed to look a bit nervous. "Hey, are you alright with this? Francis giving you too much trouble about going out with me?"

He began to walk slowly into the building, keeping an easy pace with the blond.

Matthew wondered if he appeared worried and if that’s what had caused Gilbert to ask. “It’s completely fine, you don’t have to worry,” Matthew said with a smile that he hoped came across as reassuring.

Though it was true that he was being given a hard time for choosing to date Gilbert, Matthew decided he wasn’t going to let it bother him. After all, it was really up to him who he dated and he had his...reasons.

By the time they had gotten to the stands, he had managed to relax more and stopped thinking about all the things that could possibly go wrong.

"So where are our seats? I was told these were toward the front, 'splatter zone' I believe I was told." Gilbert chuckled light heartedly at the joke--unaware of how truthful it could be.

He placed his hand lightly on Matthew's arm. He was really geeking out about the younger man if he was craving such simple physical contact with him. He wished he had brought Gilbird so he would have something to distract him from Matthew.

He pointed vaguely to a section of seats. "I think the were in one of those numbers."

"Really? That close?" The grin that had already begun to form on his face widened when he saw the area of seats Gilbert was pointing to. Center ice. Perfect.

Matthew looked down at his ticket, then at the seats a couple of times as if to make certain that they were sitting where he thought they were. Forgetting himself for a moment, he happily took Gilbert’s hand, leading him to the third row.

“These are really amazing seats,” he said excitedly, “I usually end up behind one goal or another, which isn’t the greatest if you want to see the whole game.” He wondered whether or not Gilbert had known how good the spot was when he bought the tickets. Not that it mattered; either way, he was extremely grateful.

Gilbert allowed himself to be lead by the hand, his face flushing slightly. He watched Matthew's smile trail ahead of him to their seats. He felt himself grinning in response. Good lord he was acting like a virgin school girl!

Gilbert shrugged, trying to hide his idiocy. "Well I asked for the best. I guess we got close enough." He looked around to take in the inside of the giant building. "Lucky I know people. This is really...cool actually." Not a bit sports fan, but Gilbert loved ice. So just the look of the ring was captivating enough for him.

“You guess? Well I think it’s perfect, thank you so much,” Matthew said, still smiling. And honestly, it took a great deal of self-control to refrain from throwing himself at Gilbert and hugging him to death. He never thought he’d be one for public displays of affection, but then again, he also never thought that someone who he was dating would get him such an awesome seat.

“Cool? You mean the actual rink and everything?” Matthew was usually too focused on the actual game to take in much of the rest of the surroundings, but now that Gilbert mentioned it, he gave it a good look. He hummed thoughtfully, “Oh, I see what you mean.”

Gilbert half smiled as he sat down. "Yeah, I know it will be crazy in just a short while, but for now the place is peaceful." He winced at how dorky he sounded. He never talked like this. Francis would never leave him alone about it. Antonio would try to understand, but he doubted the other man would actually take the time to fully listen. And, he wasn't in the habit of actually...confiding in his dates.

He looked around and spotted someone with hotdogs and drinks. "Eh...want me to get you anything to eat or drink?"

Matthew listened to Gilbert, nodding, “Even though I don’t mind the craziness, or this kind of craziness, anyway, yeah. I agree, it’s nice when it’s peaceful, too.” He had almost begun space out thinking about it when Gilbert mentioned food.

“Hm, okay, can you—“ Matthew hesitated, the thought of how much the tickets must have been just occurring to him now. Although it wouldn’t be that much additional money, he didn’t want to feel as if he were mooching off of Gilbert.

“Actually, I can get it. You just sat down, after all,” Matthew said, despite having sat down as well. “Do you want anything?”

Gilbert smiled. "Uh sure. If they have corn dogs..." He just moaned to express his love. "And some form of beer. Rootbeer, birchbeer, or even you know, beer." He grinned at Matthew.

He kicked his feet up onto the unoccupied seat back in front of him. He leaned back and placed his hands behind his head with a stretch. "Ah."

“Beer and a corn dog, got it.” Matthew walked the short distance, returning a couple of minutes later after figuring out a way to carry back the soft drink, beer, hot dog and corn dog without dropping anything. He’d considered getting a beer as well, but remembered that he was supposed to be controlling himself. Alcohol would only make that more difficult.

He chuckled quietly as he noticed Gilbert finding a way to make himself comfortable. “Well someone looks relaxed,” Matthew said, handing Gilbert the beer first since it was moments away from slipping out of his hands.

Gilbert took the drink and corn dog from Matthew and pulled his legs back to allow the other male to slide past him to his seat.

"Thanks so much." He drank some, then gestured to the corn dog. "Do you have any idea how bad these are for a person's health?" He gazed lovingly at the wrapped dog on a stick, then took a bite and moaned. "God, it has been a while."

That's when his eyes flicked to his date. Ah, crap. He'd nearly sounded like he was orgasming over a freakin' corn dog. He loved his food a bit too much. A light blush creeped up his neck and into the tips of his ears.

“No problem,” Matthew said as he sat down again. He was just about to allow his thoughts to wander when Gilbert made a sound that was so unexpected that it almost made him spit out his drink. He quickly turned his head to look at the other man, who seemed embarrassed, but was doing nothing more than eating a corn dog. Was that the reason why he…?

Well, it was reassuring to know that his biggest competition was a corn dog. He chuckled at the thought, but stopped when he realized that Gilbert could take that the wrong way. “Ah! I didn’t mean to laugh, I’m sorry!” he said, completely mortified.

Gilbert watched Matthew out of the corner of his eye, then swallowed the lump of corn dog he'd forgotten was still in his mouth. He took a long gulp of the beer quickly, wishing for once that he had a lower tolerance. Gilbert drank a lot, it was part of his genes, but he was hardly drunk.

"S'okay." He said as he lowered the drink to the cup holder. "Well, at least now you know I am orally oriented." He laughed then winced at the bad joke, and his face grew more red. Crap! He would be suave, damn it. Even if he forced it. He needed to think up some smooth phrases.

Oh Lord he was in trouble here.

If anything, Gilbert looked more embarrassed now than he had before. Part of Matthew wanted to say something comforting while another part wondered if he would do less damage if he said nothing (there was a third part that wondered if what he said about being orally oriented was true, but that was beside the point).

Matthew opened his mouth after finally deciding to say something when he was interrupted by the beginning of the American national anthem. Of course it would.

Before the second anthem played, he reminded himself over and over that he had to try to not make a fool of himself.

Gilbert decided not to stand since...well he didn't really care terribly. Though he supposed he was rooting for the same team as Matthew, so maybe he should stand?

He shook his head. Naw, it wasn't really [/i]him[i] to stand. He ate his corn dog slowly as he waited for the game to begin. He relaxed his leg and found his knee was barely touching Matthew's. He left it there, then looked over to the young man, wondering if he had noticed.

Matthew stood for the Canadian anthem before sitting down again, watching the ice since he knew the game would begin shortly. Yet his attention was diverted when he felt something brush against his knee and remain there. He looked down to see Gilbert’s leg close to his own.

He made no effort to move his knee away and instead glanced at Gilbert, only slightly surprised to find him looking back at him. He gave his date a small smile and turned, a bit reluctantly, back towards the rink.

Gilbert felt himself grinning at the small exchange, the leaned back into his seat to watch the game commence. He actually felt a little excited because it was his first attendance to a professional sport game of any time. He also felt his man points go up. He drank his beer as he finished off the corndog with much affection.

He watched as the game began.

It was clear to Matthew from very early on in the game that he would be unable to watch the match in a laid-back way. So he tried the next best thing by trying to appear relaxed while actually watching the game intently. He doubted it was working very well; he could have sworn that he made really odd faces every time someone almost scored a goal.

When the Maple Leafs scored, however, he cheered loudly, yelling ‘Fuck yeah!’ before he came to his senses. He liked to think that Gilbert couldn’t have heard him over the other fans but he couldn’t be too sure.

Gilbert raised an eyebrow at his date. He was beginning to worry that Matthew might be getting sick or something. He was fidgety and looked nearly constipated in expression.

Then, when the other fans cried out, so did Matthew. Gilbert did a double-take. The young man was usually so quiet and laid back. He snorted and felt his lips curl upwards.

It was actually sort of hot. Gilbert could now tell that Matthew was holding a lot back, and he wondered if the stereotype about Canadians and hockey was so true it could encompass this sweet blonde man.

Matthew avoided looking in Gilbert’s direction, not wanting to confirm that the albino had noticed him acting strangely. Remembering that he had to have self-control, he exhaled slowly, taking it down a couple of notches. And went pretty well, too, until the Pittsburgh team scored their first goal.

After that, without really meaning to, he started to let himself get away with more and more. Though he was able to have a bit of self-control at the same time.

That is, if ‘self-control’ meant allowing himself to pull a one-eighty personality change. Maybe there was something in the back of his mind objecting to how he was acting, but he was yelling too loud to hear it.

Gilbert barely watched the game at all. Instead he spent his time watching the emotional ups and downs on Matthew's face. The kid was like a different person when it came to hockey, but it wasn't something that was being instilled. It was completely natural, and Gilbert found that fascinating.

And the man had a mouth! Good God, the albino himself hadn't heard a few of the creative curses Matthew was throwing out. Nearly made him blush. He'd seen a few crazed futball watchers in his time, but they had nothing on this sweet blond hockey fan.

It was sick, and very perverse, but Gilbert's thoughts turned from innocent humor with a mix of astonishment, to sex. Like...would this carry over to a bedroom with a TV and a live game on? Or would Matthew be too distracted and want to simply watch the game? Would Gilbert be able to convince him to try it? Would the rage be sustained for a short period of time after a game? If so, could he somehow work that into sex?

Gilbert was amazed he felt slightly ashamed for thinking about the other male in such terms without his knowledge. For all he knew, the Canadian had no interest in sex right now--which is truthfully what he suspected. He felt the tips of his ears grow slightly red, and he pulled his legs up to sit with his knees at his chin.

It wasn’t until the second intermission before the final period when the rational part of his mind took over long enough for him to remember that he was with Gilbert and to realize that he had most likely screwed things up for himself.

“Well, shit. That did not work out the way I meant it to,” he sighed and could feel himself shifting back to his normal temperament. He wondered if it would make the situation easier to deal with, or if it would only make matters worse. When he opened his mouth to speak again, he had a strong feeling that it would be the latter.

“You probably think I’m insane or obnoxious or…I don’t even know,” he said quietly, looking at the floor that had somehow become more interesting in the past couple of minutes, “So I wouldn’t blame you if you…you know, if you didn’t want to…”

Matthew trailed off, burying his face in his hands out of sheer embarrassment and mentally kicking himself over and over again. He was such an idiot and he blew it and Gilbert wouldn’t want to see him again and…