Hey there ya'll! No. I am not from Texas, just wanted to say that~ Here is another one of Gil and Mattie (I must have a physical inability to write anybody else :I) and this one is also inspired by thigns I do.

I dance while I get dressed sometimes 8D

Seriously! It's so much fun! It makes me feel so much LIEK A BAUS. You don't even know xD

And since I can relate to Mattie sometimes, he now dances while he gets dressed as well. I just don't go as far as he does 3"

Hetalia is not mine! This is a fanFICTION site...

There were many things Gilbert liked about Matthew. There was his kindness, his willingness to help anybody and everybody. The way his eyes would sparkle when he spoke of his wilderness, or the way they narrowed dangerously when he stepped foot into a hockey ring. There was the way he could never get angry at Kumajiro, no matter how many times the stupid polar bear forgot his name. The special way Matt did Gilbert's laundry, folding the clothes even though he knew they'd get tossed somewhere. How Matt looked while he slept in the room they shared.

They weren't a couple. Not yet, at least. Gilbert was determined to get there, but Matthew could be shy and unwilling if pushed too fast.

Gilbert didn't want to push too fast.

He didn't want to be left alone again, to be on his own with just some sick bastard who thought that putting Gilbert in a tank full of camel spiders was fun. Well, probably nobody else did that. Still.

Matthew never even threatened that. Sure, he threatened Gilbert. But with a hockey stick and no maple syrup, not with camel spiders and those damn hungry rats.

There were things Gilbert adored about Matthew. How Gilbrid looked in the blonde's hair. How Matthew could carry a conversation with his idiot brother, make pancakes, watch TV, and keep Gilbert busy at the same time. The way Matt would rub Gil's shoulders when he was stressed. That one picture he kept secret, the one with Matthew dressed as a female Santa, outfit curtosey of Tino.

That had been worth the lack of syrup. The embaresment on Matt's face, how his glasses had looked foggey from the heat rising off his face, the way his eyes were blue but somehow glowing violet... Gilbert loved the picture, even if Matthew didn't.

There were things that Gilbert appreciated. The gentle voice, the level head. The way that Matthew knew when to honest-to-god leave him alone, and when to push until Gilbert gave up what was on his mind. How Matthew never judged him on his looks, but on how he'd acted in a situation. The way the younger fixed up the albino after a fight. How Matthew could lie so convincingly when the time called.

And then there were those things.

The things Gilbert absolutely loved and found awesome.

Such as Matthew's pancakes. The maple syrup. The cuddling that went on between them, with no awkward feelings after or during. Nobody couldn't love those things. The way the blonde looked when he wore nothing but one of Gilbert's too-large shirts because all of his were dirty. But there was one thing that Gilbert found he liked the best, and it was kind of confusing to the albino.

He enjoyed seeing people naked. There would be no lying about that. Strippers, hookers, pole dancers, the expensive whores who had their own places at hotels. Their bodies-men and women alike-thrilled Gilbert. He loved the muscles, the heat in the right places, the way their bodies moved in different ways. He wasn't a pervert-that was Francis's job. He just admired the naked body when people didn't try to cover it up.

He hadn't seen a nude body that wasn't Matthew's in over five years.

But that was the opposite of what he found he adored most about Matthew. What he found he loved the most was the way Matthew would dress. There was always sound somewhere in the house, always music playing. Silence scared them both, and an unsaid agreement had been made so that music would always play somewhere. And so, if the music was right and Matthew thought he was alone, he would dance. And it wasn't just dancing.

It was dress-dancing. If he was happy and couldn't stop himself, Matthew would sing and dance as he put on clothes. Jeans, shorts, sweatshirt, socks, shirt, or even just a robe or towel. Music=dancing, to Matthew. Gilbert knew that the kid couldn't help it anymore that Gilbert could help watching. Matthew was so loose and flexible. He had the body of a dancer-even if it was a bit female-and he knew how to use it. There were well-used muscles that could be seen under his shirt. Not ripped, but hinted so that you knew they were there. Matt didn't have a large ass, but a small one. It was not flabby, either, but toned and tight. Gilbert often compared Matthew's ass to his own brothers and wondered which you could bounce a quarter off of better. Ludwig's had militray training but Matthew's had sports. His thighs weren't thick, but they were muscled along with his calves, and they curved and met nicely. Not to mention Matthew's 'crown piece' wasn't small in the least.

But that was beside the point.

No matter what Matt put on-be it boxers or shirts-Gilbert found himself staring. The blonde moved so easily and free when he thought no one was watching. There would be a small smile on his face, his eyes would be closed. He'd sing along to whatever was playing, Sometimes-though not often enough for Gilbert-he would rub against the wall or the bedpost. Gilbert found himself wishing that the wall or bedpost was himself, and that Matthew wasn't putting on the clothes to the music. The young man was so beautiful to Gilbert, so perfect and amazing and awesome, that Gilbert knew he'd never leave. Not unless Matt specifically asked him to. But with the Santa suit picture as blackmail, he knew he'd win that argument.

Not to mention that he had found Matthew watching him do the same a number of times. It wasn't like he was about to let Matthew know he had been found out. Matthew probably knew Gilbert watched as well.

Mapleing tease.