Missing Maple: 2P Canada and Reader:
The door opened and your senses were assaulted with the musky smell of maple syrup, beer
and embalming fluid. Your nose crinkled but it soon melted into a smile as your boyfriend of three years wrapped his flannel plaid clad arms around you.
"You smell like peaches," he grunted.
You blushed. "Thanks," you said, stepping into his small house.
You still couldn't get over how his house was decorated; a moose or deer head above every door and a garbage bag stretched with beer bottles by the couch. Most unsettling of all was the grey wolf named Kuma that slept on the leather recliner.
"I think you might be Canadian," you mumbled. Matt chuckled and sat down on the couch. You joined him and the two of you ended up watching a comedy movie. Half way through, Matt grew bored and wrapped his arms around you. You twirled his strawberry blonde ponytail and leaned in for a kiss. Matt in turn smirked and kissed you.
A moment later you were able to taste him and grew concerned. He tasted like beer
.that was it, not even a hint of maple. You pulled away, red in the face and panting, "Matt," you breathed. "Why don't you taste like maple syrup?"
He shrugged, "I guess I haven't been eating any pancakes lately." He held you closer and nuzzled your neck.
"Have you been eating?" you teased, but grew concerned when you were greeted by silence. "Have you?"
He chuckled, "Yes I've been eating. Maybe I just don't like sausage with maple syrup. " He leaned in for another kiss.
You gave him a swift peck on the mouth and climbed off the couch. "You like maple syrup with everything."
"True," he said. Taking a sip of his beer, he returned to watching the TV while you went to the kitchen.
Half an hour later the oven bell dinged and Kuma's head popped up over the chair; now alert to the smells that filled the kitchen. He scrambled off the couch and circled your feet as you removed the cookies from the oven.
You tripped when you tried to avoid stepping on Kuma's tail and fell backwards. Suddenly a pair of arms caught you from behind and your boyfriend's chocolate brown eyes widened at the sight of maple cookies. "Can I have one?" he asked. He sounded innocent almost childish, but also hesitant as if you were going to smack him away.
"I made them for you," you said, regaining your balance.
Matt reached out and pried three warm cookies from the baking sheet. The heat didn't seem to affect him and he tore a chunk out of the first cookie. His face fell and he marveled at the cookie, his usual crooked smile looked soft and he devoured the rest of the cookie.
"Marry me," he said, grabbing two more cookies and giving you a swift kiss.
You hid your smile by looking down at the cookies, "Okay," you said.
Matt stopped in his tracks back to the TV and turned. "Or we could elope."
"That would be fine with me," you said dishing the rest of the cookies onto a plate.
"A Vegas wedding," he suggested, slowly creeping up behind you.
"It would save money."
"If I didn't lose it all at the slots," he said wrapping his arms around you.
You turned and plucked a cookie from his hand. Taking a bite you smirked, "When do we leave?"
Matt set the cookies down and pinned you to the counter, smashing his lips against yours. You could finally taste the maple. He pulled away and wiped the crumbs from his mouth. "Right now," he said grabbing your hand, shutting off the oven and pulling you out to his truck. Kuma followed close behind.