CanadaxReader: Pancake Vandalism

WARNING: Contains curse words, and some sadism.

Without paying attention, you started chatting as soon as you entered the room.
"Hey, Al! I'm so sorry about crashing here last night without telling you! You know about my nightshifts, and your place is just so much closer to—"
As you finally realized what was happening in front of you, you felt the blood drain from your face.
You cleared your throat, once, twice, before yelling at the two men in front of you.
"What the hell is going on here?!"
"I—but—"
"I'll leave you two to whatever you were just doing. Have a happy fucking holiday. I hope you burn in hell." You walked out, slamming the door behind you.
You didn't need explanations.
This boy, Alfred F. Jones, your boyfriend—no, your ex-boyfriend—had been making out with a spiky haired green-eyed guy in Alfred's room.
The only thing on your mind was getting out of this stupid house.
Right now.
Down the stairs, to the right, out the door. Simple enough…
Well, maybe if it weren't for what looked like two feet of snow in front of the door.
And to top it all off, it looked like you wouldn't be able to see much farther than the tip of your nose out there, because of the huge amount of snow falling.
You tried to take a deep breath and count to ten, but failed before you had reached four seconds.
"FUCK!"
Your shriek echoed throughout the whole house, and you were silent for a while. You knew that if you opened your mouth again, you would lose it.
Unforunately, a figure creeped down the stairs, an Alfred clone, and tapped your shoulder nervously.
"Um… are you… are you okay? I heard some screaming."
As hard as you were trying to keep your composure, you burst into tears.
"A-Al… that prick… he… he was with another g-guy…" Your voice sounded hoarse and every word was said between sobs.
"He's my brother, I know how he is," the Alfred clone said sheepishly. "So Arthur and Alfred were…?"
"Y-yeah." You cringed in disgust at the thought of them together. "Arthur's the green-eyed spiky-haired guy?"
"Yes. Also, I'm Matthew. And, I… I don't think you should get out of the house in this weather." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and seemed to be lost in thought for a bit. "If you want, you could stay here with me for… a bit. Do you want me to go fix up some pancakes?"
You decided you liked this Matthew person a lot better than Alfred right now. He was kinder, a lot more helpful, and definitely less arrogant.
"I'll help you." You needed to get your mind off Alfred and Arthur anyway.
The two of you sauntered into the kitchen, chatting as you went.
You learned that Matthew loved pancakes above anything, that most people didn't notice him, and that he used to date Julchen Beilschmidt, one of the most popular girls in school, in secret.
In fact, said girl had cheated on him several times.
As you were chatting, you were also working on the pancakes, and you were putting one in a pan when  you noticed something strange.
With a drip going off to the side that looked oddly like a cowlick, this pancake's shape resembled Alfred's head.
Wistfully, you mentioned this to Matthew, and you never expected what he replied.
"I… you should burn it… Yeah, burn it! It'll do you some good…"
You considered this for a few seconds. It was like a sort of peaceful protest, wasn't it?
You smirked. "Hell yes."
In silence, you and Matthew watched the Alfred-pancake slowly turn black and then crumble in the pan.
"We're evil, aren't we?" Matthew looked worried for a split second, then his face became amused.
Your conversation was interrupted by muffled bickering, footsteps and the slamming of the front door.
"They're gone outside?"
"Yeah." Matthew rolled his eyes. "Those hosers better be shovelling!
"Mattie." You grinned somewhat evilly and put your finger on the tip of his nose. "That was not my point. I mean, they're gone. Pancakes aren't the only thing we can burn now…"
With a flash of his eyes, it seemed that Matthew understood exactly what you wanted to do.
"N-no… vandalism is against the law…! Well… maybe…" Matthew flashed a tiny smile.
"I'll take that as a yes." You quickly grabbed Matthew's arm, forgetting all about the pancakes on the stove, and ran up the stairs. "Let's go break stuff!"

A lot of mangled furniture, a cracked window, walls that read 'ALFRED JONES IS A FAT PUSSY' in permanent marker, a broken closet door, and and a ruined stereo later, both of you were lying on the floor, exhausted but thrilled.
"That," Matthew breathed between pants, "was so stupid."
"Trust me, if we're not dead by the time your idiot brother and his bastard boyfriend come home, the reactions will be worth the pain." You laughed.
"We'll see…" Matthew had switched back to his worried, anxious self.
You rolled over to him and fell on top of him into a hug without thinking.
"Oh, Mattie!" You giggled. "Next time one of us has a dick boyfriend or girlfriend, we have got to do that again!"
His eyes glinted, and he smirked. "Nope, not gonna happen."
You fake pouted. "No? Why's that?"
"Because," he began, his smirk growing wider, "I'm not a dick."
You processed what he was saying and your face turned beet red.
"Wait, what?"