'This is the worst idea ever. They're gonna kill me, rip me apart- and that is far from awesome.'

Prussia took deep breaths as he trudged up the dirt road to the...mansion, farm thing owned by his boyfriend's family. It sounded off he knew, but that was how Canada had described it- all the while with that cute, embarrassed blush on his soft features.

He'd known the time would come when he'd have to meet Matthew's family properly. Since West attended world meetings alone now, he hadn't had the chance to meet them yet. Honestly, Gilbert had never thought it'd get to that. He'd thought Matthew would just be another hit and run, a night fling that would be forgotten in the click of a button and a false number.

But this boy, this timid, gentle boy- so unlike his awesome self, had stuck somehow. The way his violet eyes always brightened in shy happiness when Prussia called his name. It hurt the albino man to think how long Canada must have gone unnoticed, how long he must have been passed by wordlessly for such a glow to reach his face at the very call of his name.

However, panic set in again as Gilbert remembered Ludwig's tales of terror after meeting Feliciano's family. Prussia had to admit, while the little Italian was...odd, he was an innocent little thing, and he'd quickly been accepted by the rest of the Germanic family. Feliciano's own family had been...well, a little more wary. Apparently Ludwig could still feel Romano's burning glare even in the days after. Belgium and Hungary had been passive aggressive, making polite conversation, but with harsh judgement in their eyes, weighing up the pros and cons for the suitor of their most precious boy. Even Spain, Prussia's own great friend, had apparently 'subtly' flashed the shotgun in his belt on multiple occasions. So not awesome.

But this family, oh dear God this was going to be the worst. Prussia stopped as he reached the place; an enormous brick house with a huge open field stretching from the side to the back, a neat dirt driveway harbouring a single car- a glossy black Impala.

'oh yeah. So screwed. Well what did I expect from two former pirates and a superpower?'

Gilbert took a long breath. He was Prussia, the Prussia. He'd handled wars, he could handle meeting his boyfriend's family.

Yet as he started to trudge the final few feet to the porch and the doors of doom, his feet seemed to claw at the ground beneath him, begging him to turn and retreat.

One foot. Then the other. Onto the first step. Then the next. Then the next. It sounds easy, but it felt like he was climbing the Alps.

He stared at the door before him, and decided to deal with it like a plaster. Just rip it off, don't linger. He knocked four times- one for every limb he prayed would remain intact after this meeting.

There was a scuffling inside, the sound of someone shouting in a foreign tongue- before the door opened. At first glance, he thought it was Matthew, and relief filled him. But at second glance...definitely not Matthew.

No, this man was slightly taller, broader and more muscled. His eyes were the blue of the sky above them, his hair a shade darker than that of Matthew, not to mention shorter with a little flick in the front. On Matthew, glasses looked adorable, they made him look awkward and innocent. This guy- fuck no. In all his hundreds of years, never had Prussia seen anybody less geeky.

The other man leant against the door frame, "Hey, you're Prussia I'm guessing?" American accent. So this was Matthew's older brother Alfred.

Gilbert nodded, trying to swallow the lump in his throat, "Er...ja. America I'm guessing?"
"...Eyup."

They stood there for around a minute- just in silence, staring eachover down, testing eachover. Would the American step out of his path, letting him through the first gate, or would the Prussian turn tail and flee, giving up the quest? Alfred wore a white t-shirt, tight over his leanly muscled arms and torso, and a pair of black jeans. Ebony, padded gloves covered his hands, and that, coupled with the dog tags that hung from his neck, made him all the more intimidating. He looked like the type of guy you'd see fixing motor bikes shirtless while ladies giggled and wiped the oil from his sweating face. In short- the poler opposite of Matthew. Prussia held back the yelp of submission, reminding himself that no matter how tall this guy was, he was still younger than him- and he could always call West for backup if things went south.

"Is Matthew in?" he asked after a while.

Alfred shrugged, "He went into town quickly to get some crap with the folks."

"Oh." 'Shit Mattie, you told me you'd here!'

"You can...wait inside or...something."

"Erm...yeah, thanks."

Alfred grunted, remaining where he was for a moment, before stepping to the side and letting the Prussian reluctantly edge into the house.

Thus, there he was. The great, almighty Prussia, sat on a sofa, twidling his thumbs, with America perched opposite him with a raised eyebrow. Gilbert tried to ignore the discomfort of trying to sit straight, but not look like an idiot. It was that feeling you know, where you want to move around and stuff, but you can't because it's really tense and awkward and you don't want to draw more attention to yourself? Yeah, that's the one!

"So..." he clicked his tongue, "How's it going?"
"...good..."
Gilbert winced. This wasn't going well. He could sense Alfred's criticism slowly growing, his willingness to accept the silver haired man decreasing with every second.

"Look I just want you to know that I do really like Matthew and I think we're great together!" Prussia suddenly burst out.

'Shit...'

America blinked at him, then sighed, running a big, gloved hand through his hair, "Look, Prussia. I...don't like you."

'...so not awesome.'

"But I'm not supposed to like you. You're dating my little brother, I'm supposed to give you the whole shit talk on being good to him and stuff. So, to cut the crap-" he fiddled with his dog tags, "Honestly, I trust you to keep him safe. Canada, he's...he can take a lot of crap from a lot of people, but one person really close to him...it'd crush him ya know?"
Gilbert nodded in understanding as Alfred continued.

"Anyway, little advise." he narrowed his piercing blue eyes, "France. He's blunt, but polite. If he's smiling while he calls you an uneducated idiot, you're in the green. If he's not- run fast and run far."

Gilbert nodded rapidly, mentally noting the details.
"England. He's blunt without the polite bit. There's a shotgun in every room in the house prepared for occasions like this. He's got the worst temper. Former pirate, still got the blood lust."

Gilbert swallowed hard, instinctively glancing around the room.
"And remember, Canada's like, the baby of the family. That means they love him, I love him, everybody fucking loves him. So routine- hope you have lots of babies, have a good life with my bro, get a job, get used to us quickly because we're here 24/7 bla bla bla."

Gilbert nodded rapidly, "Got it." he squealed...'Squealed...not awesome.'

Just then, the faint screech of tires made both turn to look out the window, where a blinding silver Audi had just pulled in.
Alfred stood up, "Oh, and one more thing."

"Eh?" Gilbert's eyes widened.
"Welcome to the family."

Jaw dropped, Gilbert stared in confused shock as America smirked with a wink as he left to let the others in.

Yep, this was going to be one heck of a day...

A/N: This is based on the song Welcome to the Family by Little Big Town. Honestly, I was really torn between whether to do a Romano and Ludwig talk or America and Prussia talk, but decided on the latter because 1) The FACE family is so much easier to follow and trace, and 2) Because I can't see Romano as being the type to mess around with his brother's boyfriend, more the type to actually want to kick them in the balls.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed! As always, please favourite and follow me for more Hetalia stories! Thanks for all the readers who have stuck with me so far or just joined! Ciao!