Alright, warning to you all, this is where the non-con and slight Prussia bash begins, so beware.

Prussia came around in the early morning and knocked gently on Matthew's door. "Birdie, you up yet?" He whispered; well, attempted to whisper, it was really more of a quiet yell.

"Mmh." He groaned at the call, huddling deeper into his covers. A few seconds later, he shot up and tumbled out of bed, wincing as he hit the hard floor. Looking around wildly, he noticed the absence of the furry… thing.

"Birdie, are you alright?" The Prussian sounded worried.

"A-ah…" He panicked. Running up to answer the door, Canada forgot he was only wearing his boxers.

"Hey are you alright- ... Birdie you're still in your underwear." The white haired man noted, deadpan. He then grinned cheekily. "Not that I mind!"

"Oh god!" He blushed and slammed the door in Gilbert's face, running around trying to find his pants. He tugged them on and was halfway to the door when he remembered that he was shirtless too. Groaning, he pulled his shirt over his head and he opened the door again.

"Ouch Birdie... That hurt." Prussia mumbled, rubbing his face where the door had hit him.

"A-ah, I'm so sorry Gil! Are you alright?" He asked worriedly, reaching up to touch his cheek.

He leaned in till the others fingers touched his cheek. "I am now. How did you sleep? You weren't cold were you?"

"Uh- no I was fine." The blond's thoughts returned to the mystery person and the furry 'thing'. What the hell was that anyway?! He shook his head. It was probably just a dream anyway.

"Good. Hey Birdie, could you make some of those awesome pancakes for breakfast?"

"Uhm, I don't know Gil... I don't think Russia would like us messing with his kitchen..."

"PLEASE? Pretty please? Pretty pretty pretty please?" The man begged, bringing out his puppy eyes. "He won't care if we clean up…"

"W-well..." Damn, he couldn't resist those eyes. And he loved making pancakes anyway... "O-okay..."

Gilbert jumped for joy. The face always worked. Even on his little brother. "Yes!" He whispered, running down the hall and descending the stairs to Russia's kitchen.

Canada follows meekly and sighed. Dammit, he always fell for those faces. "J-just remember Gil, we gotta be quiet."

"Ja~!" He said as he took out ingredients for the pancakes from random cupboards.

The blond stared on, a bit confused as to how Prussia knew where everything was but shook his head. Gilbert was just weird like that sometimes. "D'you think R-Russia has any Maple Syrup?"

Gilbert paused for a minute, setting down one of the bowls he had taken out. "Hmm... I think he might have some in the pantry..." Heading over to it, The Prussian opened the large doors. He returned a few seconds later and handed Mattie a bottle. "Here ya go Birdy. Ivan always seemed to have one of these in his house."

Brows furrowed, he asked. " Y-you're close enough to him t-to call him… I-Ivan?"

The Prussian flinched. "Wha- no! I've just known the bastard for thousands of years. I can call him whatever I damn well please!"

"A-ah, I suppose so..." The Canadian put the bottle down and began mixing the ingredients. "Eh... Y-you and R-Russia are pretty old acquaintances, eh? ... To know someone for so long..."

"I guess you could call it something like that." The white haired man huffed and sat down in a chair.

Giving a timid but serene smile at the way Prussia was pouting, Matthew laughed quietly. "Ah, Gil, I don't see why you seem so upset about that. You make it look like there's something wrong with having known him for so long..."

"Damn right there is. I hate him. If I got the chance I'd roast that son of a bitch." He glared down at the table. "I've had to rely on him for something so stupid- but I`m putting an end to that!" He kicked the underside of the table.

"P-Prusse! D-don't do that!" He said, rushing to steady the table. He turned to scold him. "Y-you should be more polite when in someone's house. He's being very kind to us, letting us stay in his house and all, don't s-start ruining his f-furniture!"

"Kind? Kind! What's with you Matthew? What about that beast is kind?" Gilbert stood up glaring, practically towering over the nation.

Canada let out a whimper and cowered a bit. "Pru- Gilbert, please. Y-you m-may not l-like him, b-but we sh-should at le-least be polite wh-when staying in h-his house..."

Gilbert's eyes widened slightly as he saw Matthew cower. He frowned and stepped back. "I'm sorry Matthew... I didn't mean to scare you. It's just I... He..." He looked to the floor. "Nevermind..." He turned and sat back in his chair.

Letting out the breath he had been subconsciously holding, the blond slowly went back to the counter to pick up the batter. After a few minutes of silence he says. "I... it's okay Gil... I know you and he must have had some horrible wars against each other..."

"Yep... And one that has still yet to end." The white haired man stared down at the table as he tapped a finger against the smooth surface.

Canada glanced at him at the mention but didn't pry. It wasn't his place to ask anyway. After a few moments of indecision, he went to turn the stove on. "D-d'you kn-know where the frying pans a-are?"

"Mm?" Glibert looked up. "Ya. One sec." He stood and grabbed him one, holding it out to the other. "Here ya are Birdy." He smiled charmingly.

He tentatively returned the smile and poured a bit of the vegetable oil (well, he HOPED it as vegetable oil. He couldn't tell as it was Russian and all) onto the pan and leaned back on the counter as the burner heated up.

Prussia, instead of going back to the table, chose to stand next to him; very closely next to him.

Canada in his naive mind, said nothing as he thought the white haired man was just a bit lonely at the table. He gave him a wavery smile.

Prussia looked down at the boy and smiled back. He then leaned in a bit, not too close, but enough to be in someone's personal space.

Canada's smile faltered a bit as he wondered what the Prussian was doing. He distracted himself from that by going to pour some of the pancake batter onto the now burning pan. "Uhm... W-where are the plates?"

The German went to grab some plates, and then stood behind Matthew. Reaching around him, he set them down on the counter to his right side. Prussia then gently slid his arms around the small boy's waist, resting his forehead on Matthew's shoulder.

The blond's voice hitched as he felt warm arms slide around his waist. "P-... Prusse?"

"Hmm?" He lifted his head and set it on The boy's shoulder. "Yeah Mattie?" He spoke softly, a satisfied smile on his face.

"W-what are you doing?'

"What do you mean? I'm not doing anything~"

"G-gilbert!" Canada set down the bowl of batter and extracted himself from his arms as he turned, giving Prussia a (what he thought was anyway) stern look. "Stop it, I'm trying to cook." Giving the the man a little shove, he turned back to the stove and shook his head. Papa used to do that to him too, stroking him and hugging him while he was busy, as a test on his concentration skills, but really, why was Gilbert doubting his concentration skills?

Not fazed by what happened, Gilbert grabbed his waist again, but with one arm. The other he wraps around and gently held the boys chin as he buried his face in his shoulder. He made sure to keep a firm grip on him this time.

A tick developed on Mattie's forehead as he felt an arm encircle him again. Annoyed, he sharply jutted his elbow into Prussia's stomach, hoping it would hurt enough so that he would let go.

Prussia pulled him close, ignoring the pain and spoke in a low voice. "You smell so good Matthew." He then gently kissed the boy's neck.

The Canadian choked as he felt something moist on his neck. At those words, he gasped and sharply elbowed Prussia in the gut. "Stop it!"

Licking his neck, Prussia kissed the boy's jugular, nuzzling into the creamy ivory skin.

"Oh Matthew..."

German

Ja = Yes

French

Prusse = Prussia

This is a joint project with Yuki Winggates.