Gilbert wasn't known for knocking. Ever. Even if the door was locked he would manage his way into someone's house. Sometimes he would go places to aggravate the tenants inside, harass someone, or clean their house for no apparent reason.

On other days, he would simply go to someone's house to hang out. He did this a lot with Francis and Antonio. The three would always get into some sort of shenanigans that often lead in someone (usually Gilbert's brother) paying their bail.

There was one other he would visit on a weekly basis. If it wasn't just for the delicious pancakes, it was for the relaxing company of this individual. Their relationship was strange in a sense. Matthew was known for being completely ignored and you couldn't ignore Gilbert if you tried.

Matthew usually kept his door unlocked unless he was asleep, which was strange obstacle for Gilbert when he tried to make a Kramer entrance at four in the afternoon. The house was mostly silent besides the soft hum of the television inside. The Prussian man frowned deeply and rubbed his head in pain… he hit his head on the door trying to enter.

Terrible thoughts flooded his mind as he started worrying for his little Canadian friend. The young man was quiet, but he had recently confessed his sorrows to Gilbert. He was sad and fed up with everyone ignoring him. He had great ideas that he just could not get through to anyone else, partially thanks to Alfred F. Jones' loud mouth and partially because of Matthew's own silent manner.

He quickly picked the lock fearing the worst possible things. When the door creaked open, he listened carefully.

"Mattie," he called softly. He ventured through the kitchen of the little lodge, noting the mess in the sink and cringing, and then made his way to the living room with caution. He'd been here enough that he could navigate this pace blindfolded.

He let out a sigh of relief and his heart skipped a beat.

Matthew was lying on his stomach on the couch with the remote dangling loosely in his hand. His glasses were crooked and his lips were parted slightly. The younger nation was wearing a loose tank top and red gym shorts. The room smelled like pine oil and there was a small trash bin full of used disinfecting wipes.

He'd been cleaning and decided to take a break.

Gilbert chuckled to himself and couldn't help but think how cute the little Canadian looked.

Snapping his fingers, Gilbert ran into the kitchen enthusiastically. He grabbed all of the cleaning products and got to work on the dishes. The kitchen was his favorite room, mainly because this is where the wonderful pancakes came from. He scrubbed each dish and set them on a rack to be air-dried. Each dish was returned to its home and the cupboards were thoroughly organized.

"Gil…?"

He whipped around, accidentally flinging soap at the unexpected guest.

Matthew gasped and wiped the soap from his cheek, giggling. "What on Earth are you doing? Are you…" He looked around the kitchen and blinked.

The Prussian just smiled triumphantly. The only thing he had left to clean had been the floors and maybe the refrigerator.

"Gil, you didn't have to…" He looked up at his with doe like eyes.

"Awe, it's no problem!"

Matthew smiled. His eyes had dark circles under them and he looked like he could use another hour of rest.

"You still look tired," Gil noted as he stated tanking the mop and broom from the kitchen's storage closet.

"I am," Matthew said. "I've been up since seven getting this place organized. "

"Well then go chill out. When I finish I'll come in and get you going! We can go out somewhere and play some hockey or something," He grinned cheekily.

Matthew seemed to light up at the mention of his favorite sport. He quickly agreed and let his friend go back to sweeping the floor. Gilbert seemed to have a strange love for cleaning.

The Canadian went back to his spot on the couch and rested on his stomach again. He had taken his glasses off this time and turned the television to a music station.

After a few moments he fell back into a dead sleep. He had really been exhausted.

An overwhelming weight was pressing against his body. His eyes opened and he felt someone breathing down his neck.

"G-Gilbert…?"

He laughed and Matthew could feel the vibrations of the action on his whole body. The Prussian was laying on top of Matthew and his arms where crossed over his shoulders.

"Wake up, sleeping beauty!"

"Eh," Matthew wiggled a bit. "You're heavy… and I can't move…"

Gilbert sighed and his breath hit Mattie's neck, making him shiver a bit. "You're no fun!"

"Well, can you at least move so that I can breathe?"

Agreeing, Gil moved and Matthew rolled onto his back and attempted to sit up. As soon as he was on his back, Gil lay back down and smothered the little Canadian.

"Oof!" He gasped out a bit and sighed. "Let me guess, you want me to make you pancakes?"

"Yes!"

"You're going to have to move then."

"But you're so comfy," Gilbert whined and snuggled on his chest. He buried his face in his arms and started breathing more evenly.

"No, you are not going to sleep on me, mister!"

He didn't even budge.

The Canadian let out a frustrated sigh. Gilbert could be so weird at times. Oh, well. At least he noticed him. It was nice to get a visitor every once and a while. Although he was heavy and solid, he was warm and kind of comforting to have so close. Matthew's cheeks flushed red when looking down at him.

Gah, shut up! He thought, flustered. He's my friend. I can't think like that…

Suddenly, Gilbert popped up, yanking the Canadian with him. "Let's go, he shouted, excitedly.

"Wh- What?" Matthew was baffled.

"Pancakes?" Gilbert hopped up and down like a dog begging for a treat.

Matthew couldn't help but giggle at him. "Yes, pancakes." He strolled out of the room and to the kitchen.

He decided to keep his thoughts to himself.