A/N ;; You guys are all so amazing. Like, seriously, every one of you is so supportive towards this story, and it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside when I think of your guys' reviews. You make me the happiest authoress.

I haven't read this through very well yet, but I will when I have the chance.

Hardly a Love Story

…o…

Chapter Three
The Pinnacle of Pointless Pleasantries

…o…

Gilbert had decided that, all things considered, Matthew's response to his advances had been rather encouraging, in a certain way. He hadn't been punched, at least – he supposed Matthew had had enough consideration to not bruise his awesome face; he'd had a feeling the Canadian was a smart kid, and that just proved that, of course, he hadn't been wrong – nor had he necessarily been screamed and spat at – not that Matthew screaming at him had been necessary; his glare had told him exactly what the boy was feeling, but at least Matthew hadn't abused him verbally. So, yes, Gilbert considered that Matthew's response was quite supportive of his final goal, if Gilbert himself had anything to say about it.

Matthew, meanwhile, knew he shouldn't be encouraging the freak after such a poor excuse for a kiss by showing up at his apartment once again. The last thing he wanted to do was to give Gilbert a chance to kiss him again. He had considered bribing his fellow pizza boy to take Gilbert's deliveries from then on, just so he could avoid the freak as much as possible, but really, Matthew knew he had no choice in the matter. He could have just stopped delivering pizzas to Gilbert altogether, but he wouldn't put it past the man to call his manager and complain.

He could quit his job…

And then he wouldn't have any income, so that was out of the question, too.

But he would be able to avoid Gilbert…

What a difficult decision.

Honestly, it was something that he would have to think about. At this point, kissing Gilbert was very low on the list of things he wanted. He still had a lingering headache that refused to leave him from having his head slammed against the wall, and his lips still felt uncomfortably swollen and sore, not to mention they fucking tingled when the thought of the kiss managed to slip past his mental guards. He had also been interrogated by his brother and Arthur the very minute he arrived home as to why he looked like absolute shit, and that was never fun.

And for the first time, Matthew truly regretted giving the extra key to his apartment to Alfred.

Matthew didn't really like lying to Alfred – it made him feel guilty, and if Alfred ever found out, he knew he would be faced with a 'you shouldn't lie to the hero' speech – but in this case, it was completely necessary. His little brother would, as Alfred would so kindly describe it, hulk smash the living daylights out of Gilbert if he found out about anything that the man had said to Matthew, never mind done. His brother, if the fancy struck him, could be incredibly and almost scarily protective.

And as lowly as he thought of Gilbert, he didn't want to see the man hurt. That was also pretty low on the list of things Matthew wanted.

In fact, it was down there with being buried alive.

And seeing an old lady naked.

And seeing his brother naked.

And seeing Arthur naked.

Matthew shuddered.

All of those things were equally terrifying. There was a multitude of horrific and more torturous things more terrible than feeling Gilbert's lips on his own, Matthew supposed. At least his lips had not given Matthew the urge to rip his own eyes out from his sockets – which was exactly what seeing the elderly, Alfred, or Arthur exposed would have driven the Canadian to do. Unlike saggy, wrinkly breasts, pudgy stomachs, and extremely thick eyebrows – that looked like they were fucking alive, but Arthur had assured him many, many times that they weren't – Gilbert's firm, smooth, and thin lips were nice to look at.

They probably would have felt just as nice as they looked, but…

Maybe next time if he grabbed Gilbert's head to hold the overly-enthusiastic freak in place…

Matthew's decision to avoid the man's apartment the very next night turned out to be a fairly good decision. If you could fuck a person's subconscious, Gilbert would have been fucking Matthew's within his ten-minute ETS – Estimated Time until Sex.

If Matthew had been expecting a reprieve from Gilbert's hell-bent insistence after that disaster of a kiss, he was sorely mistaken.

"Let me kiss you again," Gilbert said in greeting as the door to his apartment swung open, locking eyes with Matthew as soon as the boy's face came into view, going through his routine of striking – what he thought to be, and what Matthew secretly agreed to be – a sexy pose against the door. As per usual, a sly smirk wormed its way onto his face as he not-so-subtly looked Matthew up and down. Of course, his pizza boy looked just as delectable as he always did, bored too blue eyes staring back at Gilbert with just the slightest hints of annoyance already present, his pout just a little bit more pronounced and irritated than it usually was.

"Why?" Matthew demanded irritably, brushing his damp bangs out of his eyes for what felt like the millionth time since he had entered the dry, safe haven of Gilbert's apartment building. It was fucking pouring outside – lighting, thunder, gusting winds, hail, and all, and to top it all off, Matthew hadn't been able to find a proper parking space. He had to find a spot all the way down the street, forcing him to run halfway up the block to reach Gilbert's apartment complex. Did he mention that he'd had to do this in the pouring rain, with no umbrella or any other form of protection? He was soaked as all hell, but at least Gilbert's pizza was moderately dry. He wouldn't want the man complaining of damp pizza, on top of everything else. No, no, that wouldn't do – not at all.

Needless to say, Matthew was beyond annoyed – and rather jealous of his customer's perfectly dry state – and Gilbert was not helping matters.

"I'm a fucking awesome kisser," Gilbert insisted. "You just got me so worked up, I lost my cool. You have that effect on me." Gilbert's grin widened as his eyes travelled over Matthew. The rain had caused his delivery boy's normally shapeless uniform to stick to his body in all the right places, outlining a lean stomach and definitely anything but scrawny arms. Gilbert's grip on the doorframe tightened to an almost painful level, and if his skin had any pigment to begin with, his knuckles would have turned white with the force of his grip. Matthew obviously had nothing to be ashamed of when it came to his body. "Do you often bewitch your customers like this?" he asked cheekily.

"No," Matthew replied shortly, eyes narrowing and frown deepening. He was in no mood to deal with Gilbert's flirtations today – just as much as he was on any other day, this one was no different. However, today his annoyance was multiplied tenfold – by the rain, and the fact that his brother had ditched him during one of Arthur's rants, leaving Matthew alone in the burger shop to listen to the Englishman as he prattled on and on and on about whatever subject he could think of to complain about next. Somehow, the rant had eventually dwindled down to Arthur noticing that Alfred had left some time ago, and he instead began to interrogate Matthew about safe sex and– God, he was going to kill his brother when his shift was over – very, very slowly. Maybe he would drown him in a bucket of that grease his brother enjoyed oh so much. Alfred picked the oddest friends, and the absolute worst times to leave Matthew alone with said friends, especially when said friends are older and feel it's his duty to lecture about the safety of some of the more enjoyable aspects of life. Fucking hell. "I don't tend to make a habit of it. Do you often flirt shamelessly with the poor, innocent delivery boy?" he asked scathingly.

"You're the only one for me, babe," Gilbert assured, trying his best to pull a charming grin, placing a pale finger against his lips. He was able to ignore Matthew's tone quite well, reminding himself that at least Matthew felt some kind of passion towards him – even if the boy didn't yet know that it was the romantically/sexually frustrated passion and not hatred. "Now come on, why don't you give the awesome me a second chance? I'll make it worth your while," he promised. "I'm sure you aren't as innocent as you say you are."

"I haven't even given you a first chance, never mind a second one," Matthew said from behind clenched teeth. He could feel the pizza getting colder in his hands, and his grip tightened on the box, feeling the slightly damp cardboard bend to his will under his fingers. "You just don't know when to quit, do you?"

"I'll never surrender," Gilbert vowed, performing an over-exaggerated bow, tipping off his invisible hat and all.

Despite himself, Matthew let out a little snort, and Gilbert grinned victoriously, standing up straight once again. "I think you've taken the whole 'love is a battlefield' thing a little bit too far," Matthew said slowly, shaking his head in equal amusement and annoyance.

Gilbert hummed thoughtfully, tapping his chin. "The expression never crossed my mind, actually." He shrugged, his grin suddenly shifting into something far more devious. Matthew frowned at the grin instinctively, already not liking the implications it carried. "But," Gilbert continued, "If you want to go commando, I'm all for it."

He winked, and Matthew felt a little part of him die inside.

"Not even a little peck on the cheek?" Gilbert asked the next night, poking his own cheek repeatedly for emphasis, giving Matthew the best pout and puppy dog eyes he could muster. This kind of thing didn't really work on Ludwig anymore, but maybe Matthew was more susceptible to it. "Just a little one?"

Matthew, however, looked completely unmoved by them, staring down Gilbert with a blank look of apathy. After years of being a victim to his little brother's rather convincing puppy dog eyes, Matthew liked to think he was immune to such tactics. He couldn't – and wouldn't – allowed himself to be swayed so easily. If he had learned to build a resistance to Alfred's eyes, then he shouldn't have a problem ignoring Gilbert's just as well. "No," he answered dryly.

"Why not?" Gilbert's pout deepened, lowering his hand. He crossed his arms over his chest as he stood in the doorway, feet halfway into the hall, toes curling inwards as they felt the coolness of the metal rim around the carpet. He hadn't even bothered to strike his post today, instead choosing to dive right into the eyes. No one could resist him for long – even Ludwig eventually gave in to whatever he wanted.

"Because," Matthew said, shrugging off the question dismissively.

His delivery boy wasn't soaking and wet tonight, much to Gilbert's disappointment. He had spent all night preparing a tactic of strategically inviting Matthew inside to dry off, if it happened to be raining again. First the boy's shirt would come off, and perhaps Gilbert would have to 'accidentally' spill something on it first, but it would eventually come off either way. He would offer the kid a change of clothes and maybe something else to relax him, and if he initially refused, he would insist, taking Matthew's soaked shirt and throw it into the corner to take care of later. He would then invite Matthew into his bedroom to retrieve said change of clothes, the boy meekly following after him, cautious and embarrassed, and Gilbert would lock the door behind him, and then…

And then… well, the rest would be history.

But it would keep the boy coming back without a doubt.

It was a plausible enough fantasy.

"That's not an answer!" Gilbert protested stubbornly, resisting the urge to stomp his foot on the ground, and in his indignity, he didn't notice the way Matthew bit his lip uncomfortably, nor did he notice the way Matthew fiddled awkwardly with the pizza box, staring down at it heatedly. The boy looked awfully awkward and embarrassed, but for an entirely different reason than he usually was.

If he was being completely honest with himself, Matthew was having trouble coming up with a proper reason to continue rejecting Gilbert's advances.

"Why can't I fuck you?" Gilbert whined.

Matthew sighed impatiently, one hand propped up on his hip while the other held Gilbert's pizza, tapping his foot on the carpeted hallway floor. He'd had an awful feeling that they still weren't exactly past this stage yet. "Because," he said, letting out another low sigh, "I'm not a man-whore like you." Nor was he anything like Francis, for that matter. Maybe he should consider directing Francis in Gilbert's direction – the two would be more than perfect for each other, considering their apparent sex drives and all. "I prefer to actually date someone before I have sex with them." Unlike Francis (and apparently Gilbert), who was quite content to fuck anything was moving, legal, and consensual within five miles. Honestly, Matthew loved Francis – they were family, after all – but the man was as loose as they came.

"Will you go on a date with me?" Gilbert asked hopefully, all traces of his previous whine disappearing from his voice as he looked at Matthew with pleading eyes. Usually, he wasn't one to date, but if going on a few dates was what he would have to do to get Matthew into his bed, then he would gladly do it. Hell, he would take the boy dancing and buy him flowers if he that's what he really wanted.

He averted his eyes from Gilbert's gaze. Matthew didn't need to think twice about his answer. "No."

"Why noooot?"

"I don't know you," Matthew answered simply. It was a good enough reason. It was a very plausible explanation for not wanting to go with Gilbert anywhere. He knew nothing about his customer except his name and the fact that he obviously had a well-paying job if he could afford to buy pizza and have it delivered to him almost every fucking night. He was going to need more information than that before he agreed to anything, thank you very much. Arthur had already drilled what exactly could happen to him if he didn't follow the 'rules.'

Gilbert's lips pursed thoughtfully. "Would you like to hang out sometime, then?" he asked.

Once again, Matthew's answer required no thought – or, he just didn't bother to use his brain before he said, "No."

"What?! Why the hell not?!" Gilbert spluttered.

Matthew shrugged dismissively. "You're a creep."

Gilbert groaned in what could be described as none other than pure frustration, shoulders drooping dramatically, throwing his hands up in the air in what would seem like defeat to anybody who didn't know Gilbert any better than Matthew did. And if this had been a few months earlier, Matthew might have actually believed that Gilbert was finally going to give up on his ridiculous quest. But, Matthew was not that naïve. Even with hardly knowing anything about him, he knew Gilbert was not the type to give up on something so easily, and much less likely to on something he had been wanting for a very, very long time. "I cannot fucking win with you!" he exclaimed.

Matthew held back a little smile, silently handing Gilbert his receipt. Of course, he wasn't going to admit that he rather enjoyed seeing Gilbert get all riled up because of him, nor was he going to admit that he sometimes was intentionally more difficult with Gilbert than usual, just to see how far he could push the man before he finally snapped – which he had discovered the vague line of with that god awful kiss incident, but that was beside the point. He was more keen to banish that memory from his mind completely than to linger on it.

"Sign here, please."

"It took you an hour and an half to get here. I should complain to your manager," Gilbert said disapprovingly, raising an eyebrow as Matthew shrugged.

The delivery boy turned his head away, raising his free hand to cover his mouth as he yawned, somehow almost losing his grip on Gilbert's food in the process. He glared at the box as if it was the source of his clumsiness before raising his eyes once again to meet Gilbert's now very amused ones. "I never said I would be on time," Matthew said tiredly. God, it had been a long night. "So shut it and give me the $7.84 that you owe me."

"I'm not tipping," Gilbert said childishly, sticking out his tongue as Matthew sighed.

"That's fine by me. I could care less."

Gilbert's eyes roved over Matthew curiously. His pizza boy wasn't being as defiant as he usually was, and even more dismissive than usual. There was something wrong with him tonight. Here the blond-haired boy was, with his head held high, the supple skin of his neck stretched and exposed, and Gilbert was too distracted by the tired grimacing of the boy's face to properly drool over the totally and completely suckable skin. Well, his salivia production rates had increased significantly, at the very least.

"Uh… Are you alright?" Gilbert asked hesitantly, almost sheepishly, feeling the urge to rub the back of his neck. He focused calm eyes on Matthew.

"I'm peachy," Matthew answered dryly.

"Lots of deliveries left?"

Matthew blinked blearily. He almost couldn't believe his own ears. Was this Gilbert… was this Gilbert trying to make small talk? No, it couldn't be possible. It wasn't right. It wasn't natural. He had gotten used to being flirted with at every possible chance… but he supposed this was nice as well. Gilbert was almost acting like a normal person, with normal feelings, and with normal motivations.

"Oh… okay…"

And Matthew didn't know what exactly came over him in that moment. Maybe it was the fact that he was so goddamn tired, and he could see Gilbert's couch from behind the man's back, looking oh so comfortable and soft. Maybe it was because of the fact that he and Gilbert had exchanged something almost equal to normal human conversation. Or, maybe, it was because Matthew had been looking for an excuse to enter Gilbert's apartment – excuse him, the man's lair – and he had finally thought of an excellent one. But, whatever the reason was, it made Matthew ask, "Um… do you mind if I stay here for a while? I don't feel like heading back to work just yet."

A brilliant smile lit up Gilbert's face, and he gladly stepped out of the way, ushering Matthew inside. "Of course, of course," he said quickly. "Annoying customers bothering you?"

Matthew looked over his shoulder for a moment, squinting his eyes behind his glasses at one of his most– no, the most annoying customer he had. He sighed. Well, he could at least forget about all the other bothersome customers when he wasn't working, at least. "You have no idea," he muttered finally.

He still wasn't quite sure why he had decided it would be a good idea to hide out in Gilbert's apartment, but he would find a reason to justify his insanity at some point.

Maybe the grease had finally gotten to him.

Gilbert slid down the wall so that he was sitting in the middle of his doorframe, cross legged and hands sitting calmly in his lap. Across the hall, though he would have much rather preferred to collapse on that brilliant couch, Matthew followed suit, shoving the box of pizzas over to Gilbert before mirroring his position.

"You could try to get a better job, you know," Gilbert said, narrowing his eyes in thought as he looked over Matthew once again. Now, he didn't want to exactly remind the boy of that fact, seeing as it was Matthew's job that brought the delivery boy to his apartment door five times a week, but the kid looked beyond exhausted. And Gilbert, just maybe, might have felt a little bad for him.

"I know that," Matthew replied, picking the glasses off his face so that he could rub at his eyes more thoroughly.

"I bet if you went to college–"

"I've already been," Matthew interrupted.

Gilbert's eyebrows hiked up to his hairline. The boy had already went through college, but he still worked at a pizza delivery joint to make a living? What the hell was up with that? Surely, Matthew would be able to land a better paying job than what he had now, and one that wouldn't exhaust him so much. The kid was fucking adorable – he wouldn't have a problem charming whatever kind of person would interview him. Honestly, Gilbert was split between wanting Matthew to stay exactly where he was, and wanting the boy to move on to bigger and better things – or at least something that wouldn't push the poor kid so hard. "Really?" was all he could manage in response.

The Canadian nodded. "Yeah, I graduated from the local university last year."

Last year? And he was still working as a delivery boy? Why?

However, instead of demanding Matthew's reasons for working such a shitty ass job, Gilbert said, "Oh, so you're a little older than I thought." Well, at least he knew now for a fact that Matthew was over eighteen. His conscience had been nagging him about not knowing the boy's true age ever since he had begun his little – but also hugely important and life changing – quest.

The delivery boy blinked, and Gilbert thought he saw a flash of amusement pass through those blue, blue eyes. "How young did you think I was?" he asked.

"Well," Gilbert scratched the back of his head, shifting so that his back was leaning against the doorframe. "I thought, at a minimum, eighteen."

Something like a smile twitched at Matthew's mouth. "At least you're not a pedophile. You're enough of a freak already. I don't need another reason to avoid you, do I?"

"Hey!" Gilbert exclaimed loudly, crossing his arms over his chest, shifting in place once again. Frankly, the cold, hard floor was very uncomfortable, and he was beginning to lose all feeling in his ass, but he was having an actual conversation with the love of his life, and he wouldn't give that up for anything. This was a first, and he was determined not to ruin it so quickly. "It was your job, not your appearance, that made me think you were younger than you were."

"Gee, thanks."

"Well, you're the one delivering pizzas at your age." He scoffed.

Matthew rolled his eyes. "Oh, bite me."

Gilbert smirked. "With great pleasure, Mattie."

"Ugh!" Matthew groaned, rubbing at his face. "You're so fucking impossible to talk to! You always twist everything around into something sexual!"

Well, there goes that conversation.

Gilbert was scheming.

He was plotting.

He was calculating.

And at that moment, if he owned an animal, it would be a white Persian–

–and he would be stroking it sinisterly.

"Nice weather we're having," Gilbert said conversationally, watching carefully as Matthew's eyebrow shot up his forehead. He was confused.

"…Sure," Matthew replied, blinking.

"I think it's supposed to rain over the weekend, though…" Gilbert continued, humming thoughtfully to himself. "And I was planning to go out, too. It's too bad."

"Um…"

Matthew was disconcerted.

"I heard gas prices went up another ten cents."

"Uh…"

"I usually walk, but I'm sure in your line of work, the price of gas is rather important."

The pizza delivery boy frowned, beyond confused. "Wha…?"

Matthew was nervous.

"Did you see the new Adam Sandler movie that came out last weekend?"

"No…"

"Personally, I'm not a fan of his work. I think he should have quite after his Saturday Night Live stint."

"Mmhmm…"

Matthew was scared shitless.

Gilbert rearranged a few mushrooms and peppers on the sidewalk, smirking.

He would have broken out into maniacal laughter, but it was three in the morning, and his art wasn't finished yet. He wasn't keen on getting caught just yet.

Plus, he was attractive enough without the laughter.

"Okay, what the hell is wrong with you?" Matthew demanded as Gilbert's apartment door swung open, revealing the pale-skinned man himself looking as innocent as can be – well, as innocent as one could look with amused red eyes and what seemed to be like a permanent smirk on his face.

"What are you talking about?" Gilbert asked, feigning confusion, cocking his head to the side to add to the effect.

"What the hell am I talking about? What the hell have you been talking about?" Matthew exclaimed, wanting to throw his hands up into the air for emphasis, but that would have meant dropping Gilbert's goddamn pizza. He couldn't afford to pay for Gilbert's pizza again, not after being interrogated the last time that had happened. He couldn't afford to lose his only job over one annoying customer. "What is with all these superflouous conversations about the weather and the news and other stupid shit? It's fucking creeping me out. You're fucking creeping me out more than usual!"

"I thought this was what you wanted?" Gilbert asked, tilting his head to the side slightly, an eyebrow cocking in question. If only Matthew could see the smug smirk he was holding inside.

"Me?" Matthew asked. His eyebrows scrunched together, baffled. "Why would I want that?"

"Isn't idiotic and pointless pleasantries how you become more familiar with strangers?"

Fucking hell. Was that why Gilbert had been acting so damn weird over the past few days? What an idiot. "No!" Matthew exclaimed. "I mean, well, yeah… Yeah, it is… But… Just don't…" He paused, searching for the right words. "It's weird when you do it," he said finally, letting out a slow breath, pursing his lips at Gilbert's smug look.

"Alright, then. Consider that plan aborted." Gilbert's smirk widened. "I love you. Can I fuck you, please?"

Matthew groaned. At least they were on stable ground again. "No!"

Matthew swore it was only – only – out of exasperation that he was smiling. It wasn't because he was amused by the white-haired weirdo's antics, or because he had almost missed the Gilbert who had flirted with him every single night, nor was he relieved that the real Gilbert hadn't been secretly abducted by pod-people/stepford-wife hybrids without his knowledge.

He really wasn't.

He swore.

He was exasperated, and nothing more.

Gilbert, on the other hand, hadn't seen Matthew smile like that before. The kid had dimples – fucking dimples.

He was too busy getting his respiratory system functioning properly to worry about that he had been rejected yet again.

A/N ;; Is it sad that I didn't even know what a dimple was until I wrote this chapter? I had to go and look up a picture of what they looked like. I just thought it was a spot or something that appeared when you smile, and apparently it looked fucking adorable.

B.A: Why, thank you, sir/madam. I am incredibly honoured that this story has been compared to maple syrup and pancakes – two of my favourite things in the world. It must be a Canadian thing.

Stay awesome, guys.