This is the sequel to Found in Odd Situations. However, this is set before and during the other one so you don't really need to read it to understand. Although, I am leaving out the explanation of Alfred's involvement in the, er, adult film industry. So, maybe it would be better reading that one first...

This chapter is called: First Party

"It'll be awesome!" cried Alfred, gesturing wildly and not caring that he still hadn't pulled on his clothes.

"Ja, ja," said Gilbert, dismissively. He was trying not stare at his vital regions but, with the way the American was sitting, they were practically calling to him. As it was, he was currently looking at his chest – which still didn't help his situation.

"Tonio, you'll come, won't you?" asked Alfred, turning to the Spaniard now.

The sound man glanced up from where he had been packing up his mics and grinned at Alfred. "Sí!" he exclaimed as he straightened up. "When will it be?"

"Dude, were you seriously not listening?" sighed Alfred, folding his arms and successfully jolting Gilbert enough to turn to his own equipment. Stop staring, he told himself. He's not awesome enough to fuck, just remember that.

"Sí," replied Antonio, cheerily.

"Valentine's Day, dude. It. Will. Be. Immense."

"Is that soon?" asked Antonio.

Gilbert raised an eyebrow. "It's on Saturday. Did you seriously not know?

"No," said Antonio and closed the case with his things in it. "Is there a dress code?" he asked.

"Nah, you could just come as you are."

Antonio tilted his head as he surveyed Alfred. Gil snorted, knowing what was coming. "Does that mean we can come naked?"

"What?!" cried Alfred, scandalised. Then he looked down at himself. "Ah, sorry. I'm waiting for the shower."

At that point the en suite door was wrenched open. Gilbert winced and ducked behind his camera. In the doorway was a rather angry Asian man – Chinese, Gilbert seemed to recall – with a towel around his waist. Today had not been a good day for the team. First, Yao had protested having to have sex with Al again because he was "never satisfied" afterwards. Then the script was really bare and they had to keep stopping because Yao and Al were getting into arguments. The atmosphere had been strained and they ended up having angry sex. Angry sex was never good, in Gilbert's opinion. Make-up sex was better. Not that he knew, of course, because he was too awesome to get into arguments.

Or actually be in a relationship.

Pushing aside his thoughts, Gilbert peered around the obstruction and watched as Yao retrieved his underwear – a pair of briefs which would probably have fitted a kid – and retreated back to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Gilbert was sure he had seen a Hello Kitty sewn on it. Or had he been seeing things?

Alfred sighed heavily and Gilbert straightened up, carrying on with his task. After a few moments of awkward silence, broken only by the tripod being dismantled, Alfred spoke. "I'm not gonna have a partner next week, am I?"

"Nein, probably not," said Gilbert with a shrug. It was Al's own fault, after all. If he would only let himself form a bond with them instead of sitting up as soon as Francis called 'Coupez' and asking how amazing he had been, then he'd have a permanent partner by now.

Then again, he supposed Alfred was simply waiting. Eternally waiting for that special someone. Gilbert couldn't blame him. He was waiting for the same thing. But it was kind of hard finding someone being an albino in Los Angeles. After all, going out in the sun was rather difficult and he looked ridiculous every time he protected himself from it. Half the time, he just gave up and got burnt. The price of finding a soulmate was high.

High temperatures, he thought to himself then internally laughed and high-fived himself.

"Sucks," muttered Alfred.

"Quite literally," said Gilbert with a grin.

Alfred frowned at him before understanding and sticking out his tongue. "Shut up, man! I've invited you to a party! You can't be mean to me!"

"Actually, because it's at the weekend, I can make fun of you extra now so I don't at your party." Gilbert's grin widened and Alfred rolled his eyes before his lips twitched into a smile.

"So you're gonna come?"

"Ja. Can't miss our star attraction's party!"

At that point, the door to the room opened and everyone looked up to find Francis walking in with a smile. "Gilbert, Antonio," he said as he entered. "We have a trés cute couple to film down the hall. Follow me. Et Alfred?"

"Yeah?"

"I shall see you next week, oui?"

"Or at my party this weekend – you can all totally meet my brother, Mattie!"

"Oh, the one you're always telling us is awesome?" asked Gilbert. "I can't wait to meet him." He grinned widely just to watch Alfred shudder in horror. Winding up the American was hilarious.

"Dude, don't you dare!"

"Ah, come on, Amerika. If I'm the one dating your bruder, then at least you know I'm awesome, right?"

"No way!" wailed Alfred as Tonio and Gil stood up with their things. "That'd just be weird!"

"Ja, ja. I don't care," said Gilbert with a grin as Antonio followed Francis out. "I'm still going to talk to him. You can't stop me."

Alfred sighed dramatically. "Fine. Just don't weird him out too much, 'kay. He's still a little wary about this." The American gestured around the room.

"I'm only a cameraman," said Gilbert with a shrug. He opened his mouth to continue when the bathroom door opened and Yao emerged. The small man glared at Alfred who stared back. Then the glare was turned on Gilbert, who quickly jumped out the way. Briefly, he considered saying something to the tune of 'lighten up' but decided against it as Yao swept past him.

Once he had left, Alfred let out a breath. "Well, gonna get washed up. See ya at the party, yeah?"

"Ja," said Gilbert, leaving the room.

Herakles and Kiku were quite cute together, Gilbert had to admit. Boring, but cute. Herakles hardly spoke and Kiku seemed reluctant to say anything besides 'welcome home' in Japanese when Herakles entered. Usually, Herakles just pulled Kiku to the bed and they went at it.

Which meant that Gilbert had to stifle yawns. He was glad of this, though. The other couples had a lot of fun with it (unless it was Alfred – his partners always complained and he didn't seem to find it as fun as he had when he had first started). When they did, it was usually fun and sexy and Gilbert would watch avidly. With these two, Gilbert let his mind wander.

It had been a few years since he had come to America. The boring company he had worked for in Germany had expanded and opened a branch in LA and he had been transferred to help start it up. Unfortunately, it had been a flop and they had closed it down. Gilbert had been let go and he had decided to stay in America since he still had his work Visa for a few years.

Francis, a friend he had made from his neighbourhood, of course, found his vlog which he had been keeping (out of boredom) on YouTube and had asked him if he would like to be part of his team. Gilbert readily agreed and the three friends had formed their own porn company.

It still made Gilbert laugh when he thought of the ridiculousness of it.

However, in all of those years, he had never gotten laid. It wasn't because he couldn't get dates or anything. He just went by the rule of 'no sex on the first date' and he never seemed to get past that first one. There was no reason why – he consistently told everyone that he was awesome and just how awesome so he didn't understand them not wanting a second date.

He wasn't lonely, though. Oh, no. He had Francis and Antonio. Sure, Antonio had his Lovi. And Francis often had some sort of date...

Okay, yes – Gilbert was a little lonely.

But only a little.

Alfred's party was taking place in his flat, not far from the business section of LA. This was probably for his brother's benefit, rather than his, as Alfred had often told the trio that his brother worked in some sort of company. Something to do with sales. Gilbert couldn't remember what exactly.

The three of them arrived together, Antonio still moping about being turned down by Lovino when he had invited the Italian to the party. Francis had no date, either, but Gilbert had no doubt he would take someone home with him. And, finally, of course, Gilbert had no-one. Not that he cared or wanted anyone to be there. After all, it would be more fun, not being tied down by a significant other.

They buzzed the intercom and were answered by a blast of noise and a voice saying, "Guys! Come on up!" There was no noise to indicate that the door unlocked but, upon pushing it, the door swung open. Thankfully, there was a lift, for Alfred had informed them that he lived on the sixth floor.

As they rode up, Gilbert checked he had everything. Francis spotted him checking on a hip flask. "What on Earth have you got that for, Gilbert?" he asked, sounding bemused.

"Kesesese," was Gilbert's answer. Then he explained: "That bruder of Al's sounds way too prim and proper. So I decided to spike the punch – metaphorically speaking, of course."

Antonio grinned. "What if Al's brother does drink?"

"Then I shall say 'Prost!' to him."

The three of them laughed as the lift reached their destination and the doors slid open to reveal a wall of noise coming from an open door along the hall. Alfred appeared as soon as they stepped into the corridor and he grinned at them. "Guys!" he called to them. "Happy Valentine's Day!"

"Bonne Saint-Valentin, Alfred," Francis replied, smiling at him.

"Feliz Día de San Valentín!" said Antonio.

"Happy Valentinstag!" cried Gilbert, striding forward with a grin. He threw his arm around Alfred's shoulders. "Now, where is your awesome bruder, hm?"

"Dude, no," admonished Alfred. "I'm not gonna introduce you to him. Well, not that I could. He's in the flat somewhere but I have no idea where- Oh, hey!" he added to some newcomers. "How's it going?!"

"Shall we?" asked Francis to his friends, gesturing to the door.

"Ja! I am ready for bier!" exclaimed Gilbert and, with that, burst into the flat.

The apartment had a small hallway which led all the way along it. There appeared to be a living room on one side and a kitchen on the other, both filled with people dancing to some sort of American pop song. Another two doors were firmly closed, presumably the bedrooms. At the end was another door, slightly ajar, which Gilbert presumed was the bathroom, mainly because no-one was in it yet the light was on.

"Shall we spread out?" asked Francis, eyeing a couple of giggling women who were glancing at the newcomers.

Gilbert rolled his eyes. There was no way he wanted to be in the background whilst Francis chatted up girls. "Ja. Come on, Tonio. Let's-"

But Antonio was chattering excitedly into his phone and Gilbert, realising this probably meant that Lovino had called him, rolled his eyes and headed to the kitchen.

There were quite a few people there, beers and alcopops in their hands, chattering animatedly with each other. They all ignored his presence as he slipped through, looking for the tell-tale signs of non-alcoholic drinks that a businessman might drink. None of those were around, however, so he shrugged and pulled open the fridge on the search for beer.

A few hours later, Gilbert was bored. The American beer was awful and hadn't succeeded in getting him drunk at all. Francis had long since disappeared with the two women from before. Lovino had turned up and Antonio was currently trying to get the Italian to show him some affection. And the host was currently flirting, rather drunkenly, with one of his straight friends. Gilbert could tell that was going to end well.

And so he found himself leaning against one of the walls in the living room, eyeing the games consoles. Perhaps he could encourage people to get out of the way so he could entertain himself.

"Hey," said a voice beside him. He started, gasped and looked round, glad that his bottle of beer was nearly empty so none of it spilled. The cameraman found himself gazing at a blonde-haired man. His hair wasn't cooperating, however, and a stray curl stuck out. Behind his glasses were a pair of dark blue, almost violet, eyes. Gilbert thought his skin looked soft and he found himself wanting to touch him to find out if it was.

Then he noticed his clothes: a pair of worn jeans and a hooded sweatshirt which had a large maple leaf on the front. Definitely not party clothes. After all, Gil was dressed to the nines. Or at least, that was how he considered it. Gilbert was wearing tight black jeans, a metallic belt wrapped around his hips. His shirt was thin and dark and he had left it open to midway down his chest.

"Are you bored, too?" asked the man whom Gilbert suddenly realised looked an awful lot like Alfred. Perhaps he was the allusive brother. Though, Gilbert could hardly believe that, since he was having a hard time hearing him over the music and background chatter.

"Ja," muttered Gilbert. He yawned for effect and grinned when he heard his companion chuckle. "Are you Alfred's bruder?"

"'Bruder'? Ah, yes. I'm Matthew." The man stuck his hand out. Gilbert took it and shook. "I wish he hadn't insisted on a party. I have a lot of work to do, you know. And it's annoying watching all of those couples."

Gilbert nodded his agreement. "Ja, it's like they are pushing it in our faces. My friends have long since disappeared on me." He pouted.

Matthew chuckled. "So, how do you know Al? And why do you still talk to him?"

Snorting in amusement, Gilbert said, "I work with him. So I kind of have to continue talking to him."

"Oh," said Matthew, looking downhearted.

"I'm only the cameraman," added Gilbert quickly, remembering what Alfred had said about Matthew being dubious about his career.

"Oh!" exclaimed Matthew. "I-I didn't mean..." He bit his lip and cleared his throat. "Is it, er, difficult?" he asked.

"Nein," said Gilbert, dismissively. "Just have to point and shoot, really. What about you? What is it you do?"

"I work in a homeware company. In the sales department. I just crunch numbers all day. It's not that exciting but, sometimes, we get really busy. And it never fails to be around a 'holiday' and one of Al's parties."

"Ah, poor thing," said Gilbert and took a swig of beer. "So I take it you're more of a stay at home kind of guy?"

"Well, no-one bar Alfred remembers to invite me to parties. And I prefer to be comfortable at home rather than dressing up and going to a bar or anything. I mean, some of the stuff people wear to go out is ridiculous," Matthew replied. Gilbert raised an eyebrow and his eyes flickered down to his own clothes. He had probably just lost his chance of getting into this guy's good books with what he was wearing. But then something adorable happened: Matthew noticed his glance and his cheeks became a little pink as he grew flustered. "Ah, no! Not that you- I mean, you look amazing-! Er... Sorry."

"That's fine, Vögelchen," grinned Gilbert, automatically giving Matthew a nickname. He found that he did that, sometimes, with people he was attracted to. Quickly, he took another sip of beer and glanced round the room, hoping Matthew couldn't see his blush. Though, it was probably painfully obvious, what with his fair skin.

"Where do you come from?" asked Matthew, sounding interested.

Gilbert returned his attention to him to see Matthew blinking at him, a cute little action which made the cameraman freeze and his breath catch a little. Willing himself to calm down and act normally, he answered the question. "From the awesome land of Prussia!"

Matthew frowned. His confused face was rather adorable. "I thought Prussia was dis-"

In a flash, Gilbert had his ears covered. "La la la, not listening!" he cried. When he removed his hands, he heard Matthew snicker.

"So you're speaking German, hm?" he said, graciously ignoring the last few seconds.

"Ja!" cried Gilbert, raising his beer in the air before draining it. "Ah, I'm all out. You'll still be here when I return, ja?"

Nodding, Matthew smiled at him. "Unless I have to drag Alfred off his friend before he kisses the guy. That one's kinda freaked out by that." Glancing around, Matthew leaned in and whispered to Gilbert surreptitiously. "I think he's possibly bisexual but he doesn't want to admit he's attracted to Al."

Laughing uproariously, Gilbert stalked off. He made sure he wiggled his hips a little and that he walked as though he hadn't a care in the world. After he had exited the living room and was out of sight of Matthew, however, he quickly dodged around everyone to reach the fridge. There, he found that there were only two beers left so he snagged them both, intending to give one to Matthew.

He paused before he re-entered the living room to assess his situation. As soon as he had seen Matthew, he had felt as if he'd been stunned. So, he was obviously attracted to the man. However, getting him into bed may cause problems between him and Alfred who would no doubt be annoyed if he used his brother before moving on. Perhaps the best plan would be to actually open himself up to the thought of a relationship. Ask him on a few dates and suchlike.

Taking a breath, he went in – only to find poor Matthew trying to drag Alfred off his friend. With a grimace, Gilbert placed the beers on a nearby table and hurried forward to help.

"Oh, hey... Gil!" slurred Alfred.

"Hallo," sighed Gilbert, heaving him off the poor man whose eyes were wide. He looked rather helpless, really. "What should we do with you, hm?"

"Probably best to get him to bed," said Matthew, quietly.

Alfred, however, seemed to have other plans. "Noooo," he moaned. "Don' take m'way!" He struggled against Gilbert's hold and almost succeeded in making his way back to the rather distressed man. Said man decided to take his leave. About time, thought Gilbert. He should have left as soon as Alfred started hitting on him!

"Oh, nein, du nicht!" grunted Gilbert, hauling Alfred away from him again. "Come on," he added as he began to guide Alfred through his home. Matthew followed and helpfully pointed out which room was Alfred's. They didn't bother turning on the light as Alfred seemed only semi-conscious. After depositing the porn star on the bed, his brother and cameraman quickly exited and returned to the party.

Gilbert clicked his tongue when he found his beers missing. Though, it hadn't been very good beer, to be honest, so he pulled out the hip flask as people began to filter out. "Want some?" he asked Matthew.

"What is it?"

"German bier," answered the Prussian.

"Sure." Matthew took the flask and a gulp. "Huh. This is better than what Al buys."

"Ja," agreed Gilbert. Seeing a spot on the couch, he vaulted over the back and landed, sitting. "So, tell me more about you. Al hardly tells us anything."

"There's not much to tell really..."

They talked for hours, not paying attention to the lack of other party-goers. All sorts of topics were put forward like sports and books and music and they laughed often. In the wee hours of the morning, their talking became mumbles and Gilbert slowly reverted to German until, finally, they were both fast asleep on the couch.

When Gilbert woke the next morning, he sorted through his head what had happened the night before. Reassured that he hadn't had sex with anyone which would end up with an angry sibling in the face, he sat up, yawned and stretched, his shirt riding up to reveal his stomach.

"Ah, eh..." said a voice. He turned to find Matthew staring at the bottom of his shirt. The other man blinked before forcing his violet gaze to Gilbert's. "I've made breakfast but would you like to shower. I can find you a change of clothes, I'm sure."

"Ja!" exclaimed Gilbert, grateful for the hospitality. He hadn't expected to be treated so kindly – he had reckoned that Matthew would want him out of the apartment as soon as he woke.

"Right, well, the bathroom's down the hall. Let me just get you something..."

Gilbert followed Matthew down the hall, stopping outside of Matthew's room. The quiet man entered and reappeared soon after with a pair of baggy jeans, a belt and a t-shirt with a polar bear on it, declaring it was from a zoo of some sort. "Cute," Gilbert commented.

"Uh, yeah..." said Matthew, blushing slightly.

Grinning, Gilbert wandered down the hall, Matthew following and instructing him on the complexities of the buttons on the shower. Closing the door behind him, he stripped, imagining Matthew watching him. His heart beat a little faster as he thought of him, perhaps, admiring Gilbert's body verbally. He would definitely have to ask him on a date.

As quickly as possibly, Gilbert showered, using the shampoo and soap he found. He grabbed a towel and dried off, dressing just as fast as his shower had been. Just as he had finished tightening the belt, the door opened and he was almost bowled over as Alfred rushed into the room. The noise of Alfred retching and the vomit hitting the water in the toilet bowl caused Gilbert to wrinkle his nose. With the least amount of sound possible, Gilbert sneaked from the room and hurried to the kitchen. He wasn't sure if he should stay, given Alfred's condition and the likelihood he wouldn't take kindly to his presence.

However, when he poked his head in the door, he found Matthew carefully placing stacks of pancakes on three different plates and he decided that he would stay and damn the consequences. "So you make pancakes," said Gilbert as he sauntered in, eyeing the maple syrup which seemed to be pride of place on the table. When he glanced back to Matthew, he found him staring. A pancake slowly began to slip from the spatula Matthew had been using to move them from the pan to the plates. Quickly, Gilbert darted forward and caught it before throwing it on the plate as he felt how hot it was. Freshly made pancakes – the smell was tantalising.

"Ah, sorry!" exclaimed Matthew. "Are you okay?"

"Ja, no problem," assured Gilbert. "It was only a pancake. I'm fine." He sat in front of a plate and reached for the butter which was in a fancy dish. "Pancakes are the best, ja?" he asked Matthew.

The cook grinned. "Yep, definitely. Though Al still insists that Pop Tarts are better."

"Ew!" cried Gilbert. He lifted his knife and fork.

"Wait!" gasped Matthew. "What about the maple syrup?"

"Huh?"

"You haven't put any on."

"Well..."

"Here," said Matthew and he grabbed the bottle, opened it and poured a liberal amount on all three plates. "That's better," he added with a smile. It suited him, that happy little smile, and Gilbert wanted to see him smile like that more often.

So, as he cut into his pancakes, Gilbert cleared his throat and said, "Hey, what're you doing on Saturday?"

"Uh, probably more work. Why?"

"Since I'm so awesome, I've got the day off work. Do you want to... I don't know... go see a movie? Or something?" Gilbert tried his hardest not to look at Matthew. If he did, he knew he would blush and, with his fair skin, it would be terribly obvious.

"Oh... Uh, well... I suppose I could spare some time." Gilbert glanced up to find Matthew blushing quite brilliantly. He grinned to himself. "Here, let me give you my number." Matthew hurried from the room and returned as quickly as he could with a piece of paper. Gilbert tucked it into the pocket of his borrowed jeans and nodded at Matthew.

"Danke," he said.

"De rien," said Matthew, using the French he still remembered.

As they gazed at each other, smiling, Alfred stumbled into the room and froze. Matthew looked up and grinned, a little devilishly in Gilbert's opinion. Gilbert went back to eating, intent on letting the brothers chatter to themselves.

"Uh... Morning?" said Alfred, cautiously. "Did you... both... have a good night?"

"Ja!" said Gilbert, cheerfully, knowing exactly what Alfred was trying to ask.

"It was fun," added Matthew.

"Right..." said Alfred. He sat down and began to eat, obviously unsure if he wanted to continue the conversation.

Gilbert decided to take pity on the guy. "Well!" he said as he rose from his place. "I'm going to head home. I'll see you at work," he told Alfred. "And I'll see you Saturday?" he asked Matthew.

Nodding, Matthew's cheeks turned pink again. "Yeah."

And with that, Gilbert left the two to talk about what had happened the night before. He imagined Alfred would be quite embarrassed at his actions and that he would be quite eager to know what Gilbert had still been doing there in the morning.

Yeah. Apparently, I'm not very good at writing from Gil's POV. I just don't want to overuse the word awesome. And, I reckoned that he'd think less awesome thoughts. And then I don't want him to realise things till later yet I know he'd probably be clever enough to actually think it. I don't know. It just seems lacking to me.

It doesn't help that I was ill in the latter half of this and I wanted to get it done so I can move onto the next thing on my list. My never-ending list.

Bloody imagination.

I decided to have it at Valentine's Day because this is only supposed to take place a few months before Alfred and Arthur meet (see the first FiOS) and I didn't have an actual time frame for that one. I just know I don't want it to be set in December so this one couldn't begin at Al's birthday. I suppose this is a good thing - Gil gets to buy Mattie a present. :)

Vogelchen means "Birdie". According to Google Translate.

Polar bear t-shirt! Mattie likes polar bears. A lot. It's probably a good thing he didn't let Gil go into his room.

Mattie isn't really that bothered by his brother working in the industry, just that he might end up getting hurt by someone (emotionally).

Pancakes! Maple syrup! Beer! All these things accidentally ended up in this first chapter! How awesome is that?

I'm leaving the other translations cause I think they're all rather self-explanatory but if you don't know, you can ask. And ask anything else.