Gilbert has a little secret. It's very cute, and fluffy, and adorable (and it's not Gilbird; everyone knows about him) and…everyone teases him mercilessly about it. Well, almost everyone.
"Dios mio, Gilberto! Really? Really?"
"Shut up Romano!" the albino whined, clutching the miniature black and purple PillowPet cat tightly to his chest, lower lip pushed out adorably. "She's cute, damn it!"
The Italian's laughter grew even louder and mocking, amused by his brother's boyfriend's brother's weakness for cute and fluffy things. "And it's a girl? How ridiculous can you get, Potato-Bastard?"
"But she's my pride and joy in my life, why shouldn't she have a name? Or a gender, for that matter," Gilbert sniffed, tipping his head up proudly.
"You need a new pride and joy," Romano giggled wickedly, turning away. "You're so stupid, Potato."
"Bah," Gilbert growled, holding his PillowPet tighter. "I'll go talk to someone else, dummkoff."
"Do yourself a favor and don't take your stupid cat with you, idiota," Romano snickered, wandering into the kitchen.
"And don't you say anything, Ludwig!" Gilbert yelled to his younger brother (who was undoubtedly listening in one of the nearby rooms). "I know you think she's stupid too, but it's your fault!"
"Vhat?" came a startled exclamation from the hallway, followed by the blonde poking his head into the living room. "How zhe hell iz it mein fault?"
"You suggested it," Gilbert replied, sticking his tongue out.
"I vas being sarcastic!" Ludwig sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Zhat does not make it my fault, Bruder."
"Does too."
"It does not."
"It does too!"
"Does no- oh, never mind…" the German sighed and headed to the kitchen.
"Just for that, I'm not going to warn you!" Gilbert yelled poutily.
"Warn me about vhat?" Ludwig asked worriedly, glancing back. He pushed open the kitchen door and was rewarded with a shriek ("AHHHH POTATO BASTARD WHAT THE FUCK") and a flying frying pan.
"That," Gilbert smirked, stepping over his collapsed and groaning brother on his way to the front door. His PillowPet was tucked firmly under his arm. "Gilbird~" he whistled, and the fluffy yellow bird came flying from wherever, nesting contentedly into Gilbert's silver hair. "You're such a good birdie," he cooed, petting the yellow creature lovingly. "Oh!" Grinning, Gilbert planted his fist into the palm of his other hand. "What a great idea! Let's go find Birdie!"
And thus began Gilbert Beilshmidt's quest to find 'Birdie'. AKA Matthew Williams, Canadian-Extraordinaire, and the man that Gilbert may or may not have a deep crush on. Like, deep deep. Despite the nearly five-year age difference, and the fact that Matthew was not exactly currently the legalest of ages.
Such a shame the beautiful blonde was always so hard to find…
It took nearly eight minutes of walking for Gilbert to realize that it was Thursday, so Matthew was probably still at school.
It took another three minutes of cursing for him to realize that it was four o'clock in the evening, so he probably wasn't in school anymore.
It took five more minutes of exaltation for him to figure out that he had no clue where Matthew would be anyway…
After ten minutes of depressed moping/wandering, Gilbert spotted a familiar blonde head. It was, however, not the blonde head he wanted, but was something that would lead him one step closer to his goal.
"Oi! Stupid Amerikan!" Gilbert called tauntingly, waving his arms (forgetting about the fluffy black and purple cat clutched tightly in one hand).
The blonde turned with a jerk, 'Freedom Fries' hanging from his lips, to glare at the person who had insulted him. And then he blinked, chewed, swallowed, and broke out into his trademark grin. "Hey, Stupid Prussian! How yah been, man? And nice cat." His grin sharpened into a smirk.
"Eh?" Gilbert's gaze drifted to his left hand, and he blushed. "Oh! Um…" he pulled his hands behind his back shyly. "I'm good… You?"
"Pretty damn good," the seventeen-year old smirked, waving him over. "Want some fries?" he held up the greasy red paper-cup-like thing.
"Ah, nein," Gilbert shook his head, putting his free hand on his hip.
"So you looking for Franny or Mattie?" Alfred asked, taking a long suck off his straw.
"Guess," Gilbert rolled his eyes.
"Well," Alfred drawled, licking the grease off his lips. "Francoise is out on a date with her girlfriend, what's her face. That Spanish girl, Antonia?"
"That's her name, yeah," Gilbert nodded, leaning on one of the metal chairs around Alfred's table.
"And I'm not telling you where Matthew is," Alfred said with a smirk, making Gilbert groan in frustration. "Go find him, if you really want to."
"Damn you, Alfred!" Gilbert cursed, stomping away.
"Don't lose your pussy, Gilly!" Alfred called after him mockingly. "It might be the last one you ever get!"
Gilbert's ears burned, but he kept his head held high and proud, cuddling his PillowPet closer to his chest. "Fuck you, Stupid Amerikan… Fuck. You."
"Nah," Alfred laughed, "I'm sure you'd have much more fun with Mattie, Stupid Prussian~!"
"Hey Aru-Man," Gilbert leaned heavily on the counter in front of the Chinese male, the cat flat on it's stomach on said countertop. "Ha-"
"My name is Wang Yao, not Aru-Man," Yao said simply, glaze flicking up from the piece of black cloth he was diligently stitching on. "So please do not call me that."
"Sorry dude," Gilbert shrugged uncaringly, unconsciously rubbing his fingers through the cat's fur. "So do you know where Honda is? Or better yet where Matthew is?"
"Kiku-Chan is out on a date with Herakles-Kun," Yao said simply, gaze flicking down to the black cat. He giggled, and asked, "I did not know you liked such Kawaii stuff, Gilbert-San. You seem to be of a much more macho persuasion. At least, you used to seem so."
Gilbert turned red again, hunching his shoulders. "Shuddup…baka." It was the only word his knew in Japanese, other than 'konnichiwa' and 'sayonara'.
Yao laughed even more, covering his mouth with his long sleeve held up by a narrow, feminine hand. "You amuse me so, Gilbert-San. No, I don't know where Matthew-Kun is. I recommend trying Alfred-San."
"I did," Gilbert huffed, crossing his arms. "He wouldn't tell me sh-" his gaze flicked to the tiny oriental child sitting on the counter, who had also been sewing, but had paused to gawk at Gilbert. "Um, he wouldn't tell me anything."
"Then try…" Yao pursed his lips thoughtfully, "hm, ah!" He lit up, smiling brightly. "Try Ivan-Chan, he always knows where everyone is."
"Mkay!" Gilbert nodded and skipped off, making Yao giggle again.
"Ah, Fairy-San," Yao snickered, shaking his head. "They always seem to have a taste for such kawaii things." He knew this from personal experience, of course, because no one loved cute things more than Wang Yao.
No one.
"I hear you are looking for little Matvey, da?" Ivan asked curiously, leaning on the edge of the ice rink. His hair was stuck to his face with sweat, running in rivulets down his face and neck.
"Um, yeah…" Gilbert nodded shyly, suddenly rethinking his decision to find Ivan. Why would he actually go looking for the man who had made his first three years of high school a living hell? It was like purposefully grabbing a hot pan from the oven with bare hands! STUPID.
"I have not seen him," Ivan said, grabbing his water bottle and taking a long drink. "Nice pussy, by the way. It suits you, Gila."
"Shut the fuck up," Gilbert huffed, turning away. Exactly: stupid idea.
"Why don't you try his papa," Ivan called. "He might like to see your pussy as well."
"Arthur's straight, dickstick," Gilbert grumbled quietly, feeling stupid for even trying to ask Ivan where Matthew was.
"Nyet," Ivan smirked, skating away easily. "He's bi~ Didn't you know that? He was dating a man for the longest time!"
Gilbert knocked hesitantly on the door to the Kirkland house, knowing that Arthur would be there (because he always was there, being a writer and all).
"Agh, coming! Hold on a -ah shit! Um, hold on a minute!" There were the sounds of a scuffle, a "Damn it Peter give me back my shirt you ungrateful brat!" and then the door opened, revealing a sweaty and flustered Arthur Kirkland. "Oh, Gilbert! I'm sorry, Matthew's not here right now; would you like me to tell him you stopped by once he gets home?"
After taking a moment to gape at the sweaty and shirtless Arthur, Gilbert closed his mouth with a snap and shook his head. "I was actually wondering if you could tell me where he was…?"
"Oh, of course!" Arthur smirked and stepped back, allowing the albino in. "Excuse my appearance, I was just cleaning the fireplaces. I didn't want to get my clothing dirty."
Gilbert then noticed that the Englishman was wearing a pair of stained and ripped jean shorts that were just a little too big for him, slipping low enough to show some bright neon pink underwear that looked distinctly feminine in nature. "So you stole some of…Alfred's pants…?"
"Of course," Arthur laughed, leading the self-styled Prussian into his study. "Just let me check my calendar and I'll tell you exactly where he is. You could have just asked Alfred, you know."
"I did," Gilbert pouted, crossing his arms with his PillowPet clutched close to his chest. "He wouldn't tell me anything!"
Arthur snorted, "that certainly seems like Alfred…" he flipped open the large black leather planner sitting on his desk, eyes scanning swiftly down the pages. "Thursday, Thursday… Ah! Here we are~! He has hockey practice today, so he'll be at the high-school's rink."
"Aw, thanks man!" Gilbert exclaimed in relief, breaking out into a heart-felt grin. "I owe you big time."
"No," Arthur shook his head. "He needs to be picked up in about a half an hour anyway; you can do it for me and we'll call it even."
"Awesome!" Gilbert pumped his fist in the air. "You're the best, Arthur~!"
"Thank you," Arthur smirked, leading him back to the front door. "It comes naturally, you know. Now, you can keep Matthew as long as you like, just bring him back before dawn, alright?"
"Okay~!" Gilbert grinned, skipping away gaily.
"Oh, and, nice pussy, Gilbert. I didn't know you had one."
"Gottverdammt, not you too!" Gilbert yelled in frustration, turning back to the door. But it was already shut, the lock clicking easily into place.
Pouting, Gilbert glided down the street, complaining to his PillowPet (whom he still had yet to name, despite owning her for three weeks already) about the utter suckitude of everyone he knew.
He pushed open the door to the high school's ice skating/hockey rink, meandering past a few random people and into the stands. He jumped over the seats until he was in the very bottom row, placing one hand against the glass, watching his very best friend glide around the rink like he owned the place.
The rink was one of the only places Gilbert had ever heard the teenager raise his voice to a yell.
Matthew sounded hot when he was yelling at one of his teammates for being stupid or bullying another player.
Which the blonde was currently doing.
"Damn it, Snider," Matthew roared, ripping off his helmet. He looked like he was about to hurt it at the player. "How the fuck many times have I told you not to trip other players with your stick, you- you- BAKA!" he was only really comfortable with calling others stupid in other languages. "I don't care whether they're on your team or not, you get in fucking trouble for that!"
"Sho?" the player smirked, pulling his helmet off as well. He had sandy-blonde hair pinned into a flat bun. Spitting his mouth guard into the palm of his hand, he continued, "we won't get in trouble if no one finds out."
Matthew groaned, rubbing his face with his gloved hands. "Oh my fuck you're so stupid. If Markus can catch you tripping someone up then you obviously suck at being subtle, moron." Screw being nice, it was time to be honest. "Why are you even in this game, anyway? You obviously hate hockey."
"That's cause it sucks," Snider snarled, sliding over to the team's captain. "Who the fuck put you in charge, anyway? You suck at this game."
Matthew rolled his eyes, a faint smirk crossing his lips. "Who put me in charge? HA! I'm in charge because pansy-assed little bitches like yourself haven't been playing long enough, and because I love this game. At least I didn't have to buy my way onto the team."
"Bi-" Snider's eyes widened and he launched himself at Matthew, making Gilbert gasp in shock. "How dare you say that to me you son of a bitch you're gonna pay for that Imma rip you a new one-"
Gilbert pressed his face to the plexiglass, eyes wide with shock and awe.
Snider was abruptly cut off by a large Canadian hand twisting into the front of his white jersey and slamming him to the ice, knocking all the air from his lungs. He stared fearfully up into darkly brooding indigo eyes, unable to breathe.
Matthew leaned in close, just to terrify the quivering teenager even more. "Justin Snider, I want you the fuck off my ice in the next three seconds, or I will break you. I will twist you so much you will never be able to walk again, do you understand me? And if I catch you anywhere near this rink again, if you mess with any of my players again, I'll…well," he grinned wickedly, pristine white teeth flashing in the light reflected off the ice. "I'll leave that for you to find out. Understand me?"
"Y-yup!" Snider yelped, scrambling backwards. He shot to his feet and rocketed away as fast as his shaky legs would carry him.
Half of the team burst into amused laughter (the veterans) while the other half stared in terrified silence (the newbies).
"Aw, god, I think he pissed himself!" One blonde player laughed obnoxiously, clapping his hands proudly.
"Shut up Matthias," another said quietly, ice blue eyes peeking out from between the bars on his helmet.
"Lighten up, Lukas," Matthias grinned, pulling off his boyfriend's helmet. "It won't kill yah."
"Oi!" Lukas yelped, eyes going wide. "Give me that back you son of a-"
And the team dissolved into excited chatter and random banter ("OH MY GOD I WANNA BE A PENGUIN") making Matthew shake his head and sigh. "They're all so ridiculous…"
"Hey! Hey Mattie! Over here!"
The blonde perked his head up, looking around curiously. His throat hurt from yelling so much… "Oh, Gilbert…?" he skated smoothly over to the albino, who looked like his head might just explode. "What are you doing here?" And why do you have your stuffed cat?
"Oh my god Mattie I've been looking for you everywhere!" Gilbert exclaimed, waving his hands up and down. Gilbird -still nestled firmly in Gilbert's hair- chirped tiredly. "Dude, do you have any idea how hard it is to find you? I mean first I asked Alfred and Yao and then Ivan and then Arthur -I didn't know the old guy had a tattoo!- and then I came here and you were being a total BOSS and it was SO COOL and oh my god I think that guy almost died of total terror and-"
Matthew clapped a hand over Gilbert's mouth, blushing hotly. "You went through all that trouble just to find…me?"
"Yeah!" Gilbert nodded emphatically, clutching his PillowPet to his chest tightly.
"…Why…?" Matthew sighed, rolling his eyes.
"Well…" now it was Gilbert's turn to blush and look away, chewing on his lower lip. "I, uh, really like you Mattie. And I wanted to say hi…?"
"That can't be all," Matthew shook his head and rolled his eyes mockingly.
"I…wanted to show you Gilcat…?" Gilbert held up the stuffed cat embarrassedly, looking down at his feet.
Matthew regarded the cat coolly for a moment, before breaking into a wide smile. "Gilcat, eh? So you finally gave him -her?- a name?"
"Her, and yeah," Gilbert nodded, shuffling in embarrassment. "I did…"
"Cute," Matthew touched a finger to the underside of Gilbert's chin, pulling him forward into a sweet kiss. "I'm glad to see you like her, Gilbert."
"I don't like her," Gilbert corrected with a dazed, crooked grin. "I love her!" Wow. Matthew had never kissed him before. Did that mean that Matthew… "You like me…?"
"Mm, you could say that," Matthew smirked cockily, pressing another sweet kiss to Gilbert's warm lips. "Or, an even better thing to say would be… I love you."
Gilbert's breath caught in his throat, crimson eyes growing as wide as saucers. His heart fluttered erratically in his chest, making him feel as light as a feather. "R-really…?" No one other than Ludwig had ever expressed love for the obnoxious albino (and Ludwig didn't really count, because he was family). Gilbert didn't know how to deal with it. "I, um, I, uh, eh, erm, ah, deh…GAH!" he buried his face in the PillowPet, a gift from Matthew. "I… Ich liebe dich!" was yelled through the fuzzy black and purple object.
Matthew chuckled slightly, giving Gilbert a peck on the top of the head. "I'd like you to be my boyfriend, Gilbert Beilshmidt. I don't care that you're five years older than me, or that I'm under age. All I care about is you."
The albino looked up from the pillow hesitantly, squinting at him through one eye. "You're not kidding?"
"Nope," Matthew shook his head, a faint smile on his lips. "I promise."
Gilbert giggled and pulled Matthew down by gripping the front of his jersey, yanking him into a firm kiss.
"I'll take that as a yes," Matthew mumbled against Gilbert's lips, making the other smirk.
"Duh."