Chapter 6: Rules of Engagement

Gilbert placed his palms on the glass wall in front of him. A light that came from nowhere illuminated the glass yet left the rest of his surroundings shrouded in darkness. Gilbert didn't know how he got there or what he was doing, but he desperately wanted to get to the other side of the glass. Fear crawled up his throat, choking him as he desperately pushed at the glass. He didn't know what the pushing would do or what was on the other side, but he just felt the need to get away. Light and movement from the other side of the caught his attention and his fear melted into fascination.

It was clear from body shapes that the two people making out were men, still clothed in nondescript jeans and t-shirts. The faces were hidden, concealing their identities from Gilbert, but that only made him focus on them harder. Hands roamed and bodily shudders could be discerned, but the faces still eluded him in the silence. One man, with seemingly feminine hands, picked up the other and placed him on a gunmetal table away from Gilbert. Was that table always there? Gilbert asked himself. He couldn't remember. But the pre-existence of the table faded in importance as Gilbert was shocked when light finally touched the lovers' faces.

Roderich pulled back from the man in his arms, seemingly breathing heavy in the chilling silence that surrounded Gilbert. His violet gaze was lustful as he dragged his hands through the honey-haired man in front of him, bringing the other into a kiss. Gilbert didn't feel the jealousy he expected when finding Roderich preoccupied with another. No, he just felt dedicated, gentle loss as he stared at him. The loss felt familiar as it should; it was really the only thing Gilbert felt when he saw Roderich conversing with others for centuries. This was the nature of love as Gilbert had come to know it: aching loss and silent longing. Gilbert touched his fingertips to the glass delicately, reaching out to the man he loved for centuries.

Roderich, however, continued his erotic onslaught on the yet unknown man on the table. Drawing the other's T-shirt over head, Roderich briefly stared down at his lover, who seemed to duck his head in embarrassment. The gesture struck Gilbert as familiar, yet, as he looked at the expanse of the second man's leanly muscled back, he couldn't place it. Roderich clearly was not overly concerned with his lover's embarrassment as he swept the almost shoulder length hair to one side and began kissing his neck. One by one, red marks appeared on the once pristine skin. Gilbert watched all this dispassionately, accepting Roderich's silent rejection of him for this other man. It wasn't until Roderich's hand on the other's shoulder urged him to lie against the table that Gilbert finally recognized the bashful, almost virginal, lover.

In his passion, Matthew's eyes were nearly a true purple in a shade unique to him. His cheeks were flushed red and his lips were swollen from sweet abuse. The rapid movement of the curl, still miraculously in front of his lips, betrayed panting breaths that were lost to the silence. The rapid expansion and collapse of Mathew's pale, toned chest confirmed Gilbert's deduction, just as the image of the Austrian licking Matthew's collarbone made all logic impossible. Gilbert's vision went red as he took in Matthew's obvious pleasure. When he spied Roderich's hand trail its way across Matthew's chest to toy with the pink nipple, Gilbert began to bang at the glass in front of him.

"Get the fuck off him!"

It was as if Gilbert finally using his voice allowed sound to penetrate the glass. Mathew's panting gasps and shaky moans assaulted him as Roderich looked up from a preoccupied Matthew and smirked at the Prussian. Oh no the fuck he didn't! Gilbert thought.

Roderich took in Gilbert's impotent rage and drew his teeth over Matthew's neglected nipple. The Canadian threw his head back in surprise, eyes squeezed shut. "Roderich-!" was all he could manage to say.

Gilbert turned his head away from the pair, desperately searching the glass for a weakness. A little above his head and to the left, there was a small crack in the barrier. Raising his arm above his head, Gilbert brought his fist down in the center of the crack. It expanded a bit, so Gilbert did it again and again, trying to block out the sounds Roderich coaxed Matthew make. Gilbert's hand was beginning to bleed as he wore down the thick glass. Matthew's eyes came into focus for a second and he looked around warily.

"Did you hear that?"

"It's nothing, darling. Just focus on me."

"Okay…"

The sound of Roderich kissing Matthew, his Mattie, drove Gilbert insane. Using strength reserved for grandmothers picking up cars off of children, Gilbert hit the crack in the glass one more time, causing a domino effect which cracked the entire thing down the middle. Feeling empowered, Gilbert drew back his arm for one more strike when the clear window to the couple turned into a mirror and Gilbert saw his arm being caught by another. Immediately, the fear the Gilbert felt earlier returned, peppered with the urgency not only to get away but to get to Matthew. What made it worse was that Gilbert immediately recognized his captor and knew why he should be afraid.

Twin crimson gazes locked in the broken mirror as the captor's left arm quickly locked itself around Gilbert's neck, displaying the red, black, and white armband. The swastika stood out boldly and Gilbert's eyes widened as he saw himself lean towards his ear. This was Gilbert at his least conscientious and most destructive to himself and those around him. He hated and feared himself.

The slightly younger Prussia smirked at the inadequacies of his prey. "Kesesese, honey, I'm home. Did you miss me?"

Gilbert was about to say no, say that he wasn't this anymore, when he was cut off by the arm tightening its hold to crush his windpipe and the sound of Matthew's suddenly louder moans. Prussia laughed in Gilbert's ear.

"He sounds like fun. Maybe I'll go for a ride, too…"

Gil began to struggle violently at that moment, only succeeding in compromising his windpipe more. Still, he managed to wheeze out, "No…mine."

Black dots danced around Gilbert's vision as his doppelganger chuckled in his ear. "But I am you."

"N-not…true."

"How can you protect him," the younger Prussian said malevolently, "if you cannot protect yourself?"

The last thing Gilbert heard was Matthew moaning for another before he felt his neck snap then nothing at all.

*break*

Sweat once again coated the Prussian's skin as he jolted awake. Nein, nein, nein, nein, nein, was all Gilbert could think. Groaning, he grabbed his towel and headed to the shower. It helped him shake off that dream yesterday, so it figured that a shower was just what he needed. Not a therapist, but a shower. Definitely not a therapist.

After relieving himself, Gilbert stepped into the warm spay. It relaxed his muscles while it washed away the physical evidence of Gilbert's nightmare. The psychological ones though…

Gilbert put his head in his hands and fought the urge to scream, fearing it would alarm Mathew. What the hell is wrong with me? Gilbert thought. These dreams will get old really fast.

A couple things really bothered Gilbert about this particular dream. First of all, the fact that his assailant was himself was an issue that Gilbert wouldn't come within 15 meters of a therapist for. Especially since he was his National Socialist self…It's just that it came out of nowhere. Gilbert had come to terms with his and Ludwig's past years ago. It was kind of necessary when living in Ivan's house…for multiple reasons, the first of which being fascism and communism didn't mix well. It wasn't like he could change his past. He wasn't proud of it but it never came up in his every day thoughts.

Second, Gilbert couldn't believe how ready he was to kill Roderich. He swore to himself after the unification of the German Empire that he would never personally harm the man again. It was why he didn't attempt to strike back at Roderich when the man attacked him…earlier in the week? It's only been that long? Fuuuuck.

Third, when the hell had he began thinking of Matthew as his? It had been a day, literally just over 24 hours. To be sure, those hours were filled with some of the best fun Gilbert had had in years that didn't involve getting arrested. They were also filled with sinfully delicious pancakes, shopping trips, video games, coming to Matthew's rescue, and watching movies. Although if Gilbert was honest with himself, he watched Matthew's reaction to the movie more than the film itself. He couldn't help it, really. Matthew just got so into the movie, he made those endearing little 'eeps' when he was surprised and bit his lip slowly as the tension of the film got to him. If Gilbert was being really honest with himself, he would admit that he wished that the movie had a sex scene in it just to see the Canadian's reaction… and promptly jump him because of it.

Fourth, when had he started thinking of Matthew in such a sexual way? Matthew was naturally beautiful and utterly adorable whenever he blushed. Okay, his snarky side shows an intriguingly leashed energy that really could set off one's imagination. Matthew's passion flushed faced from the dream flashed through Gilbert's mind and he quickly turned the relaxingly warm spray to freezing temperatures. One problem taken care of, he thought sardonically.

Turning off the water, Gilbert stepped out of the shower with these thoughts racing 'round his head. In the end, it boiled down to Matthew. Gilbert wanted him. Now what?

Matthew was his host, the provider for his sanctuary. He couldn't just jump the man. Hell, Gilbert didn't even know if Matthew liked men! While it was the trend among countries to like men since there were just so many more of them (male countries that is) than female, there were a few notable exceptions. Francis, despite all his actions to the contrary, was bisexual and actually preferred women a bit more. Ludwig is actually Feliciano's exception, not his rule. He didn't flirt with all those pretty girls for nothing!

Gilbert shook his head as he wrapped the towel around his waist and gathered his clothes. It turned out that Hungary was his primary exception. And for most of that time he thought she was a boy. (In Gilbert's defense, she did, too.) Sure, he could have sex with a girl, but it just wasn't the same. It was like something was missing from the equation or…it was hard to describe. He wouldn't hesitate to say he was bi, but he had a pretty strong preference for men.

Gilbert sighed as he began to walk back to his room only to pause in front of Matthew's door. It was suddenly difficult to remember exactly why Matthew wasn't and indeed shouldn't be his. I mean, Gilbert thought to himself, shouldn't Matthew be able to decide for himself…now? If Freud had heard this conversation, he probably would have seen Gilbert's id on a rampage…let's just say there is more than one reason that Gilbert avoided therapists.

Prussia dumped his pajamas on the floor and opened Matthew's door with the full intention of getting Matthew to declare himself Gilbert's or not only to be stopped in tracks by two things: the time and the sight of Mathew.

Intellectually, Gilbert realized that it was early; he knew that the sun had not yet risen. He just didn't realize that it was 2:47 A.M. as the clock hanging on Matthew's closet reflected light back from the moon. Gilbert knew the being awakened at 3 A.M. was not the most pleasant thing and while he appreciated Matthew's snippy side, he didn't want to truly see the man irritated.

Matthew looked like an angel. His skin seemed as pale as Gilbert's in the moonlight, his hair looked like spun electrum. His face was peaceful with lips slightly parted and pale pink. Matthew was all tucked in under the blankets. The small stuffed bear that Gilbert had given him the day before was only identifiable from the top of the furry head under Matthew's chin. Gilbert was correct in assuming that his host had snuggled with the bear when he went to sleep. It was so adorable that it stopped Gilbert for a moment and he could only stare.

Gilbert didn't know how long he just stood in the doorway, looking at the Canadian he had subconsciously claimed as his. He wanted Matthew to be like the bear: wrapped in Gilbert's arms while he slept. He wanted Matthew to look at him every morning with a smile on his face, relaxed after a night of love making. He wanted to know what made him tick. Prussia didn't think that he was good enough for Canada, but that didn't change things. Gilbert wanted Matthew to be his.

While Gilbert didn't know how long he stayed, he would always remember the word that made him leave.

Rebound.

Could it be possible that Gilbert was transferring his feelings for Roderich to Matthew? What he felt for Roderich felt worlds away for what he felt for Matthew. Maybe he felt that way about the Austrian long ago, but if he did he no longer remembered it. Gilbert didn't want to use Matthew just to get over Roderich. After just one day, Prussia had more respect for Canada than that. He wasn't sure if these feelings were real or if they were just another way the Austrian had managed to fuck him over.

Gilbert left Matthew's room and closed the door behind him. Gathering his clothes off the floor Gilbert fled to his room. Closing the door, Gilbert leaned against it. He had no idea what to do. He felt these things for Matthew and after one full day with the man he was ready to accost him in his sleep. Rules, he thought. I need rules.

Gilbert and his friends were notorious for breaking rules/laws, but those were set by other people to limit them. Gilbert followed his self-imposed rules the way he would never follow any other set. It gave him a skewed sense of justice that would fall in the legal grey/black area in many countries, but it served him well over the centuries.

Gilbert threw on some jeans then grabbed his journal. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Gilbert got down to work. A couple of them were easy to come up with, but others… well it took him about an hour to get the list completed. This is what the entry ended up looking like:

Awesome Journal,

Today I woke up from a completely unawesome dream. I'm not going to get into it much but it involved Specs and Mattie and unawesome Nazi me killing current awesome me.

It made me realize that I might have some… feelings for Mattie. But I don't want him to be a rebound! So I decided that I would make myself some awesome rules so that I don't accidentally force myself on him or take advantage of him because Mattie is too awesome for that.

1. Don't stare at Mattie when he's asleep. No matter how beautiful he looks, it's creepy and unawesome.

2. Don't think about him in the shower. If it happens turn on the cold water.

3. Got a stiffy thinking of Mattie? Take care of it with a shower, not your hand! See 2.

4. Don't proposition him for sex. Ever. He might say yes.

5. Don't think about how he is just as amazing as his pancakes.

6. Don't think about if he tastes as amazing as his pancakes. See 3.

7. Don't admire his spirit and personality beyond friendship. No matter how awesome they are.

8. Don't lie to him, but refrain from mentioning just how sexy and beautiful and perfect you think he is. Also don't tell him about the feelings that made you make this list.

9. Always stay at least 15 centimeters away from him. For your safety and his.

10. IMPORTANT! Remember that no matter how much you wish otherwise, Mattie is not yours! You have no grounds to be jealous if he talks to others or kisses others or-

Well, this is obviously in progress! It's lights out time!

Awesome Me

Gilbert finished his entry, still a little worked up from writing that last rule. It surprised him just how transparent his feelings were looking at the list. And after one fucking day, too! Way to articulate emotional fails, Gilbert.

He closed the journal and replaced in the dresser drawer. He was a little depressed from all the 'don'ts' of the list. Prussia would have changed it but his body reminded him of the little sleep he had the day before. Without bothering to take off his jeans, Gilbert splayed out on top of the comforter. He grabbed the throw blanket to cover his bare chest and fell into a, thankfully, dreamless sleep.

A/N:

Song: No idea, really. For shits and giggles lets go with "Diary of Jane" by Breaking Benjamin