Reason number one

One is too trusting and the other use to paint himself blue.

"All you have to do..." the Scotsman slurred as he looked at the violet eyed Canadian beside him. "Is...um...is be painted with blue paint and we can do it!" he chuckled.

"Really?" said Canadian asked before taking another shot. God what was he even drinking? He couldn't remember but it was going straight to his pretty blond head. "Why blue, Scotty? Why not red or...or purple?" he giggled.

"Because! It demoralizes and confuses the enemy," he huffed. "And pink isn't intimidating," he took a drag from his cigarette. "Come on, lets go get you painted up."

Nodding happily Matthew slipped off his bar stool, almost falling on his face in the process. He cooed as he steadied himself and wrapped his arms around the white bear that had been sleeping on the bar. "Wakie wakie Kumajablah!" The bear cracked an eye open at the total annihilation of his name. "We are painting!" Matthew giggled as he watched Allistair stand. Huffing Kumajiro went back to sleep in his arms.

After they paid for their drinks and gathered their things the two drunk idiots stumbled out of the bar. Allistair barely saved Matthew from falling into the street, a few times, as they huffed it to the Canadian's home. It took Matthew five minutes to unlock the door when he finally found the right key.

"Paint?" Scotland asked as he walked into the dimly lit home.

"I have..a tube of paint!" he chuckled. "It is in the closet by the maple!" he giggled. The blond swayed and stumbled over to the couch before falling down on it, crushing Kumajiro in the process. The bear gasped and tried to wiggle out from under him.

It seemed like only a few moments later when the redhead was poking him with a big fat paintbrush. "Up! I need to see you to paint on you."

A muffled grunt escaped his mouth and he slowly sat up. "Do I need pants for this?"

Allistair paused and looked into his gleaming violet eyes. "Pants are nice...but you can lose the shirt."

"Ohhh," he purred quietly. "I don't need a shirt, eh?" he asked his voice husky. He slowly rose to his feet, not noticing the bear that bolted out of the room. The blond slowly slipped his glasses off, his eyes were half-lidded. Tossing them to the side he grasped the hem of his shirt.

This is what would have happened in a perfect world! Matthew's movements would have been slow and teasing to the other. His fingertips would have invitingly grazed his own skin as he pulled his shirt up and over his head. He would have seemed sexy and very seductive to the Scottish man.

But this World is very very poopie. So this is what really happened. His movements were jerky and very uncoordinated... He pulled up his shirt quickly and it caught on his chin, leaving him stuck and blind. His unsteady body swayed and he stumbled around like an idiot as he tugged uselessly on the fabric. Scotland had to step in before Matthew hurt himself. A few seconds later he was sitting down with his shirt off.

Matthew shuddered and whined a little when the cold dark blue paint was spread onto his pale chest in swirling designs. He giggled when Allistair painted his own hand and then pressed it against his chest. "It looks like you groped my chesticle!" he giggled. The redhead seemed to just roll his eyes and tell him to turn around.

Matthew did as he was told and hummed as his back was painted. He was pretty sure by the other mans chuckles that he was painting naughty things on him. But he couldn't care less at the moment! This was exciting and it will be so fun when he was finally all painted up and ready to go!

After a few more minutes he was moved around once more and a swirling pattern was added onto his left cheek. "Okay," Scotty chuckled. "Go get your weapon of choice. And it better not be maple syrup."

"OHH BUT BUT!" he whined as he stood. A girlie squeal escaped him when one of Allistair's hands connected roughly with his ass, leaving a blue mark on his pants. He took the action as encouragement and ran to get his hockey stick.

A few moments later he was standing at attention in front of the other man. His gloved hands clutched his abused hockey stick to his side. "What is next sir?" he asked happily.

"Now we go to your neighbor!" Allistair claimed. After a few moments of thought he smirked. "I know just the nation," he chuckled.

Matthew grew nervous of his evil muhahaha chuckle right then... Oh well! He had a small bottle of maple syrup in his pant pocket that would protect him! Good thing he hadn't lost his pants. He was lost in his thoughts he didn't notice Scotland approach him with a strip of fabric in his hands. Matthew squeaked when everything went black. "Oh my god! I've gone blind!" he shrieked.

"No you haven't!" Scotland smacked the back of his head. "Calm down, I've only blindfolded you."

The Canadian felt his cheeks flush under the blue paint. "Kinky?" he muttered. "But...do you always do this?" he asked as he turned towards the sound of his voice.

"Yeah sure, now come on. We need to hurry." He spoke as he pushed Matthew out of the door. Due to the meeting's in Canada that week all of the nations were in either hotels or homes they had bought on the Canadian's land. So they were close enough for them to walk.

Matthew blabbed about random things as he was pushed along the streets. He caught quit a few stares that were probably well deserved in his...condition. "And then Alfred...um, he did something," he muttered as he forgot what story he was telling.

"Shut up for now," Allistair ordered as they stopped in front of a large house. "Okay when I say so you will take off the blindfold and attack your neighbor," he said as he released him and went to hide in a bush.

Nodding Matthew tried to grow serious, but that attempt failed in a giggling fit. When Scotland called to him he struggled with the fabric until the offending item was at his feet. The Canadian looked up at the large house. "...What do I do now?"

"Go knock on the door," a bush to his left sighed.

"Oh! Okay Mr. Shrub!" he giggled as he hurried to the door and knocked. No one answered it quick enough. Pouting he began to rapidly push on the doorbell.

The door infront of the blond finally swung open but he wasn't paying attention. The tip of his tongue was poking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated on pushing the doorbell as many times as he could.

Matthew froze when a large gloved hand grasped his. Gasping a little he looked up at the very confused looking Russian in the doorway. "Oh! You answered the door!" he squeaked.

Ivan stared down at the blue painted blond on his doorstep. "...Da...I did," he said as his childish smile appeared on his lips.

"Okay! Hold on!" Matthew turned away from him. "What do I do now?" he called. He waited for a few moments but there was no answer from the bush. "Oh...I don't know what to do," he whined.

Ivan looked around, more confused then ever. Who was Matvey talking to? Was he drunk? He seemed to be. Smirking he decided to take advantage of the sweet little situation on his front step. "Canada, why not come inside maybe I can...help you."

"Okay!" the Canadian purred. Oblivious to the suggestive gleam in the others eyes. He skipped inside of the home when Ivan moved. "You think pink is intimidating, don't you?" he asked as the door creaked shut behind him.

In the bushes Allistair laid on the soft grass, fast asleep...

The sun rose the next day, Allistair moaned in pain as he was blinded, a splitting headache pounded in his skull. He slowly stood and looked around, "W-What the hell?"

Only a few seconds later the front door of the house opened and Matthew stepped out. He was clutching a broken hockey stick and an empty bottle of syrup. The blue paint that had been glopped on his skin was smeared all over him. His eyes were blood shot, hair a mess and in some places blue. And he had a few red marks and bruises on his neck and chest. Oh and a glove of his was M.I.A. He stumbled off the porch.

"Matthew?" Allistair called. What had they been doing last night? It involved...oh wait...he fell asleep when the door opened so that meant... "Oh my god! You slept with Ivan didn't you?" he laughed.

The Canadian's eyes narrowed and he approached Scotland, a slight limp in his step. "You bastard! I don't remember anything! Why did I wake up next to Russia this morning? You promised last time that you wouldn't let me visit others when we drink!" he growled.

"Sorry, I guess it slipped my mind," he laughed. He rested a hand on one of his clean shoulders but paused. "Why is your skin sticky?"

Sighing he held up the empty bottle of maple syrup. "Three guesses...and you are buying me a new hockey stick," he huffed before he started to shuffle home.

"Same time tonight?" Scotland called as he started towards his hotel.

"Oui," He yelled back. "Same bar as last night!"

"Meet you there Matthew!"

Hope you liked it! I will probably put up another reason soon! Review if you like~ I still own nothing!