A/N: This is a story done for a Christmas Exchange on LJ.

The Prologue is nothing special, just France musing on how love works and lot of other philosohpical shit like that. Anywho, rating will change~

:D

Have fun

No one knew love better than Francis. No one knew the workings of such a thing, the wonders it beheld or the meaning behind the word. Not a single soul could grasp the sheer significance of it, or how empty the world would be without it. Love was a thing someone found hard to escape, and once caught, almost impossible to deny. It was such a heady feeling that made you light on your toes but heavy in the head. Heavy with happiness and warmth and smiles…

Yes, Francis was quite sure he was the only one to fully comprehend such a feeling. He was the embodiment of France after all…

And yet…

And yet as he walked next to his friend, gazing at the way his eyes would light up at the mention of a particular name, or the way his cheeks would slowly turn pink without his knowing, he couldn't help but wonder just how someone could completely deny such a profound emotion. His friend would gesture wildly talking about this man, his face split in a grin. He'd laugh as he reminisced, nudging Francis every once in a while when he slipped in an innuendo or two.

Love had a habit of working in mysterious ways. It had a way of breaking things and throwing tantrums, yet it also had a habit of consoling people and warming them. Love could be harsh. It could be sweet. Bitter. Or, as he noticed with his friend, love could be just out of sight for one to see it, yet clear as day for everyone else. Much like a note taped to the back of one's shirt; They don't know it's there, but everybody else can see it.

Gilbert was the prime example of this kind of love. As the albino continued talking animatedly about pancakes and hockey and whatever else seemed to come to mind at the moment, Francis chuckled softly to himself. It was almost too perfect when he thought about it. Gilbert, a man who claimed he had no need for love or friendship, had indeed fallen into cupid's trap, albeit unknowingly. The poor Germanic man was most definitely in love with someone, but didn't realize it.

Love like this tended to be the best in Francis' opinion. Simply because it was always filled with excitement.

Now being the expert he was, Francis also knew that this sort of love needed a little push in the right direction. You couldn't simply let two people in denial of their love for one another stay in denial, or else nothing could be gained. Asking Gilbert about his current relationship would do nothing to help the little problem along as the stupid man was just a little too thick and stubborn.

But Matthew? His little Matthew? What would the poor boy say if he brought up the subject?

Francis had a sneaking suspicion that the Canadian would simply turn down the statement head on, saying Gilbert wasn't the kind of man to fall in love and that he himself had gotten along fine without entering any relationships.

That wouldn't do, oh no. That wouldn't do at all.

As the two men turned into a small walkway leading up to a house, Francis found himself smiling. Beaming was more of a proper term. The reason behind such an expression was for the simple fact that he could see a plan unfolding before him. The time of year was all too perfect for his little idea. When Matthew opened the door to his house, smiling ever so timidly like he usually did and giving Gilbert a rather fond hug, he walked in smiling a little too broadly and walking with a bit of a jump in his step.

Christmas had to be one of his favourite times of year. Although he loved being with friends and family, that wasn't the reason why. No, the reason was very simple and you could find it hanging under most doorways…

His reason for loving Christmas so much?

One word.

Mistletoe.