Thanks again to everyone who has reviewed so far. I know that the past few chapters haven't been much more than pointless ramblings interspersed with dick jokes, but I swear that there is a plot out there, and it may even start to surface soon. As always, sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes or inaccuracies. Thankyou for reading, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hetalia Axis Powers characters. I also don't own The Beatles, the films of Norman Foster, or these socks.

"I'm not smoking," Gilbert mumbled to himself, "I'm not, honest. I'm just looking at the cigarettes. There's no harm in looking, right? Just looking…"

He glanced around to make sure that he was alone, then slipped his fingernail under the thin cardboard and tugged the packet open.

"Just touching. Nothing wrong with touching."

He drew out one long, perfect cigarette, and after a moment's thought put it to his lips.

"I'm just holding it. In my mouth. Not doing anything else at all. It's just a convenient place to hold it."

He'd chosen his spot carefully; behind the swimming pool, near the dumpsters. It stunk of fetid garbage and chlorine and (needless to say) was not a popular destination. Gilbert wasn't worried about other people seeing him, exactly. People, he could deal with. People, he didn't care about.

Mattie, who was not 'people' but 'a person', was the problem. Gilbert could still remember the Canadian boy's attitude towards smoking, the thousands of self-help leaflets and nicotine patches that had been posted through his door when he was trying to quit (he'd used the leaflets to construct a small but perfectly formed fort, and put all of the patches on at once. The only results were a slight headache and blue lips) not to mention the way Mattie's lip curled back when they passed someone holding a cigarette.

Not holding, Gilbert corrected himself, Holding is fine. Holding is practically encouraged. It's smoking that has to be avoided.

Anyway, avoiding Mattie was his number one priority at the moment.

His tongue flickered over the end of the cigarette in his mouth.

Number two priority.

Gilbert's hand, as if moving by itself, went into his pocket and pulled out a small red lighter.

Lighting a cigarette in your mouth isn't the same as smoking, is it? That- that's just physics, man.

Please refrain from desecrating my second favourite subject by revealing your shockingly limited knowledge of it.

FUCKING HELL!

The cigarette fell from his mouth, momentarily forgotten.

Luddy-Voice! You're back! Where the fuck have you been?

I have had other matters to concern myself with. However-

You've been with Feli-Voice, haven't you?

I told you before, there is no-

Doing nasty, dirty Voice things.

That's not even-

'Ooh, Luddy-Voice, I love how smart you are, ve~! Let's get physical!'

SHUT UP. JUST- JUST STOP THINKING.

…Hit a nerve there, did I?

As I have attempted to explain to you countless times before, I don't have any nerves, with the exception of the ones I share with you! I don't have a physical presence! I'm just a Voice in your head!

Are you having an identity crisis?

No! No I'm not! You're merely clinically insane!

Wow, Voice. That was really mean, even for you…

Look, I'm sorry, but-

Really low.

There are more important-

You hurt me, not just mentally, but also emotionally.

Matthew is approximately three feet away from you!

Gilbert dropped the packet of cigarettes in shock.

Why didn't you tell me?

I tried!

Gilbert waved his hands to try to clear his head, a surprisingly common method which didn't do a thing. He could hear the soft footsteps now as Mattie approached. He looked at the lighter in his hand, the cigarettes scattered all over the floor, and gulped.

Making a hasty and not at all well thought out decision, Gilbert scooped up all of the cigarettes and shoved them into the bottom of the plant pot next to him, patting some soil over them to try and disguise them a little.

Wait, plant pot? This plant pot wasn't mentioned before. Why would there be a plant pot behind the swimming pool?

Thankfully, mere seconds before Gilbert shattered the fourth wall and became horrifyingly self-aware, Mattie came round the corner.

"Gil!" he was smiling, the sun shining off his hair, looking just a little like an angel, "What are you doing with that plant?"

Confusion is not a particularly angelic emotion, but he managed to pull it off.

Gilbert quickly straightened up, wiping the dirt off on his jeans.

Think fast, Mr Moto!

What? Voice, this is not a good time for you to become sassy!

"I was…uh, I was being a naturist," Gilbert said, hoping that Mattie would accept it as yet another of his boyfriend's quirks.

Quirks are cute, right?

Judging by Mattie's expression, which hovered somewhere between shocked and horrified, he didn't think so.

"I- A naturist? I- I don't understand…"

A lifetime of mischief had forced Gilbert to develop a rather impressive bullshitting technique.

"Yeah. My dad's into it, and he's always trying to get me to join in, y'know?"

Mr Beillschmidt was not, in fact, a flora and fauna enthusiast. But (Gilbert figured) Mattie had no way of knowing that.

"Your dad?" The blood had drained from Mattie's cheeks, leaving him as white and pasty as an anaemic ghost. Gilbert was beginning to feel vaguely uncomfortable.

"Er, yeah. You okay, Matt?"

"But- you're wearing clothes! And how does the plant help?"

Now it was Gilbert's turn to look confused.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be wearing clothes? And how could I be a naturist without a plant?"

They stared at one another for a moment, wearing matching expressions of confusion. Then

Mattie's face split into a relieved smile, and he began to laugh. Gilbert frowned at him, torn between joining in – Mattie had an infectious sort of laugh – and demanding that he tell him what was so funny.

"What is it?" he snapped, when the tension grew too great to ignore.

"You-you don't-" Apparently Mattie hadn't mastered the art of talking whilst sniggering, "-You don't mean – hehe, you don't mean naturist! You mean naturalist! A naturist is someone who- who goes around – haha, naked!"

It took a moment for the words to sink in. As soon as they had, however, Gilbert felt an incriminating heat creep into his cheeks.

At least this has distracted him from what I was actually doing in that plant pot…

"Heh. That's, uh, that's funny. What an idiot." Gilbert forced out a chuckle. It sounded more like a sneeze, but the intention was there.

Mattie shook his head, smiling fondly at his boyfriend. The sun bathed one side of his face, highlighting the sharp angle of his nose.

"You know what?" Gilbert said quickly, "We should- we should go out somewhere. Yeah."

Mattie touched one hand to his ear, a nervous gesture that Gilbert recognised from childhood. "Uh, it's the middle of the day, Gil. We can't just leave."

This is more like it.

Back in his element, Gilbert grinned devilishly at the blonde boy. "Yeah, we can," he said in a low voice, "It's as easy as- well, as easy as feigning a doctor's note and driving straight out of here."

Matthew's eyes widened, as if acknowledging the possibility for the first time, then he shook his head firmly. But Gilbert had seen it- seen the flower of opportunity blossom in the Canadian's mind. He of all people knew how difficult it was to resist.

Rebellion was always such a thrilling prospect.

"Come on," he begged, "We can go get waffles. Waffles, Mattie!"

"I don't even like waffles," Mattie mumbled.

"What? I didn't catch that," Gilbert replied, scrunching up his nose (as if that would help him hear better).

Mattie wisely refrained from replying. He'd lost friends over his lack of interest in the sweet, dough-based snack.

"Whatever," Gil's famously short attention span came to the rescue once again, "Skipping school's real simple. We won't even get caught."

Matthew eyed him carefully, violet eyes cautious.

"You promise?"

Gilbert's teeth glinted silver as he smiled. He reached out and took one of the Canadian boy's warm hands in his own, squeezing it tightly.

"I promise."

Mattie bit his bottom lip. When he released it, it was beautifully red and wet, and Gilbert couldn't resist leaning in to place a gentle kiss on his mouth. He pulled back to find Mattie's cheeks tinged pink.

"Okay," he sighed. A hint of a smile played about on his lips.

"Awesome," Gilbert turned back to his rucksack and bent down, rummaging around in it. He straightened up again, shoving something into his pocket, and put his hands on his hips. "Now, you need to go to the office, and say that you're expecting a call from your father."

Mattie blinked at him. "What? Why? I thought we were leaving!"

"We are," Gilbert clarified, "But unless you want every damn truant officer in the state on our backs, we need to do a bit of prep work. So go to the office."

He didn't look convinced. Time to pull out the guilt card.

"Don't you trust me?"

There was a worryingly long pause, before Mattie replied, "Of course I do. Don't be stupid. It's just…"

"Just nothing." Gilbert ruffled his hair, as if he were his child. "Go on, Birdie."

A few minutes later, Matthew found himself hovering awkwardly in front of the reception desk, half hoping that no one would be around to listen to him.

This is such a bad idea. What if my mom finds out? I'll be grounded forever. I'll never be able to see Gil again, so he won't want to go out with me.

But if I don't go ahead with this, he'll think I'm as dull as a… as a pencil. A really boring one, without a rubber. There are thousands of more interesting pencils out there, with sparkly bits and extra contraptions and sharpeners attached. He won't want to go out with me then, either!

I'm thinking about this way too hard. Gil's showing me a different side of his life - I should be pleased. And skipping school is exciting, right? It's supposed to be fun.

I'm pretty sure Alfred's done it before. How difficult can it possibly be?

"Yes?" a middle-aged receptionist with a perm had arrived, and was watching him expectantly. Mattie swallowed, absolutely terrified.

What the hell am I doing?

"Uh, I'm, I'm expecting a call from my- my father." Mattie was sure that the woman didn't believe a word of it. He'd be given a detention for trying to leave, and they'd put a big black mark on his permanent record, and he'd be kicked off the hockey team immediately.

"Okay. I'll put him through when he calls," the receptionist said, and went back to her sudoku. Mattie exhaled, relieved. Now all he had to worry about was the phone call. He was still completely at a loss as to what Gilbert was planning.

A moment later, the telephone buzzed, and after pressing it to her ear for a second the receptionist passed it over. Mattie cradled the receiver in his hand, turning away so that the woman couldn't see his face.

"Hello?" he said tentatively.

"Sup, Birdie," replied a very familiar voice.

Mattie glanced back at the receptionist, wondering if she could hear.

"Uh, hello, dad," he hissed into the phone. What was Gilbert playing at? This would never work.

"Don't worry, Mattie," Gilbert said, as if he could read the Canadian boy's thoughts, "I've got it all planned out. Just do what I tell you, okay? Say that you'll be outside in a moment."

"Er, I'll be outside in a moment." Mattie's voice was little more than a squeak.

"Heh, relax, Matt. Now tell me that you need a pass to leave."

"I need a pass to leave school."

"Okay, we're all set. Hand the phone back to the receptionist, alright?" Mattie did as he was told, glad to have finished the conversation.

The receptionist listened to the receiver for a moment. Matthew began chewing on his thumbnail, sure that she'd recognise Gilbert's voice and they'd be found out.

He was intensely surprised, therefore, when she said a stiff, "Yes, I understand, Mr Jones. I'll write him one right away."

He watched, a little dumbstruck, as she pulled out an absence pass from the drawer beside her and scribbled a signature on it. She held it out to him and he took it carefully, as if it would burn his fingers.

"Keep this to show your teachers so that your absence is excused," she told him, in the bored drawl of a person who'd said these words a thousands times before.

"Right," Mattie replied, "Thanks." The absence pass, his ticket to truancy, felt oddly heavy in his hands. An Asian boy he vaguely recognised from his history class walked past, and he ducked his head to avoid being seen.

"And I hope the surgery goes well," the receptionist said. He stared at her for a moment, and then nodded hurriedly, his cheeks flushing.

"Er, yes. Thankyou."

"I cannot believe we're doing this," Mattie said as Gilbert clicked his seatbelt into place. They weren't in Gilbert's car, for once. He'd led Mattie to a shiny Volkswagen in the school parking lot. It was Ludwig's prize possession; he'd nicked the keys out of his brother's pocket when they passed each other in the corridor after period one.

He won't mind. Much.

"I can't believe you've never done it before," Gil replied, craning his head to check the rear view mirror before pulling out of the parking space. "You're losing your truant virginity, right now." He gave that strange hissing laugh of his and Mattie glowered at him.

"Wait," he said, as they drove towards the guard's hut, "I have a pass, but you don't. How are we going to get out?"

Gilbert winked at him. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about that," he teased, earning himself a hard whack on the shoulder from his boyfriend.

He slowed down outside the window where the security guard, Bernard, was waiting.

"Got passes?" the man asked, scratching idly at his chin.

"Yup," Gil replied, plucking Mattie's pass out of his grasp and handing it over. The guard squinted at it, then thrust it back through the window.

"What about you, Beillschmidt?"

With another wink at Matthew, Gil pulled a bit of paper out of his pocket. The Canadian recognised it as the slip he had retrieved from his rucksack earlier. He passed it to Bernard, who glanced at it for a moment before giving it back.

"Alright," he shrugged, "Go on through."

Gilbert elbowed Mattie gently in the side. "Open my rucksack. There should be a packet of cookies in there. Get them out, will you?"

The blonde boy unzipped the bag at his feet and found a tube of Oreos, which he obediently handed over to Gilbert. The albino shoved them through the window, grinning.

"These are for you, big guy."

Bernard took the cookies with an expression somewhere near reverence. "Thanks, Beillschmidt." Gilbert waved a hand dismissively.

"Any time."

With that, they drove through the school gates and out onto the road. Gilbert flicked the radio on, wound down the window, and grinned at Mattie.

"Freedom!" he yelled. The Canadian smiled sheepishly back at him.

"Was that a forged absence note you gave the guard?"

Gilbert turned the radio up a little higher. "Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies," he replied, leaning back onto the headrest.

Mattie turned to look out of the window, watching identical houses rush by. The colours seemed brighter, somehow, the air cleaner. Perhaps skipping school wasn't such a bad idea after all.

"So, have you eaten lunch yet?"

Matthew shook his head. "No. That's why I was looking for you, to ask if you wanted to eat together."

"Well," Gilbert told him, "I do. Let's go get some fucking waffles!"

The Canadian boy sighed. "Gil," he said quietly, "I don't like waffles."

There was a long, tense silence. Gilbert stared at him, his mouth hanging open in shock. "You- you don't like waffles?" he repeated.

"No," Mattie admitted, "I think they're too sweet, and have a funny texture."

Gilbert pouted, ignoring the road to gaze at his boyfriend. Mattie watched the loose grip the albino had on the wheel, and felt his heart begin to pound.

"But- but waffles are delicious," Gilbert lamented.

"I just don't feel that way," Mattie whispered, trying to ignore the lump in his throat.

After a few tense minutes, Gilbert shrugged.

"Ah well. I'm pretty sure they do pancakes there, anyway."

'There' turned out to be a tiny diner off the freeway, hidden behind a row of pine trees. It was a family run place, complete with greasy tabletops, cheery slogans pinned to the walls, and the obligatory smell of bacon. Gilbert reclined in one of the orange plastic seats, rubbing his head.

"So what do you think?" he said, grinning, "Awesome, isn't it?"

Matthew looked around at the stained tabletop, the obese waitress, the puddles of unidentified liquid on the floor and the leaky ketchup dispenser that was currently dripping red sauce onto his hand.

Then he looked at Gilbert, whose smile was so huge that it showed all of his white teeth, and whose hair glinted silver in the sunlight.

"Yeah," he said softly, "Awesome."

After they had both eaten so much heavy, greasy diner food that their stomachs felt like they'd expanded by at least a few inches, Gilbert led the way back to the car.

"The next stop on our magical mystery tour," he announced, as he clambered into the driver's seat, "Is Poland!"

"Poland?" Matthew replied, torn between bewilderment and exasperation.

"Poland?" Gilbert squinted at him, "What are you talking about? That's ridiculous. We can't drive to Poland from here, Mattie, there's a great big fucking ocean in the way. Nah, we're going to the forest."

"The forest behind your house?"

"Yup."

"The one we used to play in when we were kids?"

"The very same, my little chum."

"You've never used that word before, have you…"

"Not once."

They drove off. Mattie clung to his seat with his fingers and watched the lights rush by at breakneck speed.

I've almost got used to Gilbert's driving.

Another car pulled out in front of them, and the albino swerved hugely to avoid a collision. He cackled wildly to himself, turning his head to peer at something on the back seat.

If I die today, don't let Al have my comic books.

Gilbert seemed to be having a fit of mania when they eventually reached the forest that edged into his backyard. He leapt out of the car, leaving the door wide open, and rushed off towards the trees. He was babbling something about a mystery, but Mattie was too busy locking the vehicle and trying to catch up with him to understand much of it.

"…and it's going to be totally awesome!" Gil crowed as the Canadian finally got close enough to hear.

"What's going to be totally awesome?" he asked, slightly out of breath from his impromptu jog.

"Kesesesese!" Gilbert winked at him, veering off suddenly to the left. They weren't following any sort of path and Mattie was sure that despite his aura of confidence, there was no way that Gilbert could be anything except totally lost.

"I can't tell you that, Birdie!" he chuckled, "Then it wouldn't be a surprise!"

They carried on for what seemed like hours but was probably only minutes, stumbling over endless rotting logs and trotting under the canopy of thousands of trees. The sun leaked through the leaves above, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor.

Matthew cast his mind back to those long days playing here as a child. This place was full of adventure, then, stuffed with excitement and opportunity and hidden, impossible magic. Each tree seemed like a climbing frame, every puddle a paddling pool.

It was a world away from the still, silent forest they were currently hurrying through. The beauty, however, remained.

Suddenly, Gilbert stumbled to a halt, and turned to look at Mattie with shining eyes.

"Here it is," he whispered, and edged forward through a row of thick trees. Behind them was a clearing, in the middle of which was a fairly large lake. The water was a sparkling, shimmering shade of turquoise, so clear that Matthew could almost make out the bottom.

"I found this place a couple of years ago," Gil said proudly, "Not many people know it exists, because it's so far into the forest and everything."

They say that he's callous, you know. They think he's insensitive.

Matthew shuffled closer to his boyfriend, reaching down to squeeze his hand.

"It's amazing," he said honestly.

Gilbert looked at him, suddenly sly, then pulled away and unzipped his jacket. Matthew watched as he threw the garment onto the floor and then yanked off his T-shirt, wondering if he'd been using the right word that morning after all.

"What are you doing?" he asked, almost afraid of the answer.

Gilbert gave him a grin that was 40% sweet and 60% pure evil. "Swimming, duh!"

"But-" Mattie had seen Gilbert's chest before, but it was a good few years ago, and the albino seemed to have changed rather a lot since then. He wasn't muscular, but he was lean rather than scrawny now. Matthew found it oddly difficult to look away, especially when the albino started pulling off his jeans, "-you don't have a bathing suit!"

"Never heard of skinny-dipping?" Gilbert said in a low voice. Matthew's eyes bugged, his cheeks burning. A moment later, Gil's familiar laugh shattered the quiet of the clearing. "I'm kidding, Matt. Just wear your boxers."

Matthew stood as still as a lump of rock whilst Gil dumped the last of his clothing on the ground and stood proudly before him, wearing nothing but a rather worn pair of red boxer shorts.

Well, shit.

"Last one in the water's a stinky egg fart!" Gil yelled, before rushing down to the lake and wading in. He swore almost immediately, rubbing his thin arms.

"Shit, it's cold," he mumbled, which (not surprisingly) did nothing to convince Matt that joining him was a good idea.

"I- I don't have another pair of underwear," the Canadian told him, "How will I get home?"

"No need to," Gilbert replied instantly, "You can come back to my house."

You've planned this, you sneaky bastard.

Gilbert gave Matt one last grin before ducking under the water, re-emerging a moment later screeching and laughing.

"Come on, Matt! It's not that bad once you get used to it."

Oh, fuck it. You only live once, eh?

Matthew stripped off as quickly as possible, leaving his clothes in an untidy heap next to Gilbert's, then rushed down to the lakeside and (after taking a deep breath) ploughed in.

Gilbert whooped triumphantly.

It's cold. Very, very cold. Cold as… a cold thing being cold. Coldly.

The albino disappeared beneath the surface, and a second later something cold and slimy wrapped itself around Mattie's ankle.

(There were no witnesses to testify, but I'm sure his scream was very manly.)

He reached down and tugged Gilbert up, ignoring his spluttering giggles. The albino twisted out of his grip, splashing away like some kind of hopelessly inefficient water-based felon.

"Oh, it is on." Mattie said firmly, and dived after him.

When they finally emerged almost an hour later, freezing cold and drenched and laughing, Mattie saw that his cell phone was flashing. He wiped his hand dry on his trousers and pressed the answer-phone button, wondering who would have called him in the middle of the day.

"Matt, it's Al here."

Of course it is.

"Uh, I tried to call you, but you weren't picking up, so… anyway, you know the whole Iggy thing? I've sorted it. I've got this plan, it's going to be brilliant… Um, call me when you get this."

"What is it?" Gil asked, running a hand over his wet hair as Mattie frowned at the phone.

"I'm not sure," the Canadian replied after a moment, "But I have a feeling it's not going to go well."

So, what is this plan that Alfred speaks of? If you can guess correctly, I'll give you my eternal respect. And if we ever meet up in real life, you can have a fiver, too.

Thanks for reading, and reviews are awesome.