Honestly, Prussia wasn't sure why he bothered to come to the meetings anymore. His kingdom had been dissolved for many decades by now. Any political power he once held rested in his younger brother. As such, any ideas he might have had, no matter how awesome, were either ignored or flat-out refused. The albino had learned long ago that his place at the meeting table was merely a formality. And Germany wondered why he got bored sometimes?

This particular meeting was interesting, at least. Gilbert was sitting back in his chair, boots kicked up on the table, watching the chaos unfold in front of him. France had riled England up to the point where things were coming to blows, which then frightened Italy, which then made Romano upset, and so on, and so forth. Germany was caught between comforting Italy and stopping another Hundred Year War from unfolding. Hungary started yelling at Austria for something completely unrelated, Norway was possibly summoning something in the corner while Finland tried desperately to stop him… Just as it seemed like things were reaching a fever pitch, Gilbert spotted his oasis in the desert.

Canada, ever the quiet nation, was still seated. Now, there was someone who knew how Prussia felt! Despite being one of the superpowers of the world, the blond's thoughts and ideas were rarely heard. Perhaps he was simply too quiet; perhaps everyone deferred to his much louder and more bombastic brother instead. Perhaps, Prussia mused, everyone else was dumb for not listening.

Gilbert studied the violet eyed man for a few moments. He'd been letting his wavy blond hair grow out a little more, so it was further down his shoulders. Probably easier to put up in a bun that way. Definitely easier to hide that way.

Most nations wore a suit to the meetings. Matthew, probably knowing he would be ignored again, had opted for a purple dress shirt, and more than likely blue jeans under that. Maybe with his maple leaf belt buckle? The white haired one would never understand the obsession with maple leaves. But he did understand the look of exasperation on the other's face as he glanced around the room. Violet eyes followed Italy running from Germany, to looking at America holding England back from France, to Spain running from Romano and apologising profusely, to where the Prussian was still seated. The two held each other's gaze for a moment before Gilbert nodded towards the door. The blond packing up was all the confirmation he needed.

This had become a normal routine for the two over the years. Meeting goes to shit, nothing gets done, they leave early without anyone noticing and hang out. Most countries brought a briefcase to these meetings (a few of which were being used as shields at the moment), but not Matthew. He simply shoved his various folders into his leather messenger bag and walked towards the door where Prussia was waiting. This was always Canada's favourite part of the meeting: walking up to the albino to leave said meeting. A light blush graced his cheeks as he studied the other for a moment.

He, too, had decided against a suit and simply wore a navy dress shirt and grey dress pants. Matthew was pretty sure that the man's tan boots could be considered vintage by now, but they had been so well taken care of over the years that they didn't show their age. Prussia himself didn't show his age. His scarlet eyes still glowed with the same mischievous energy they always had. His jawline could probably still kill a man, and his snowy hair, while almost definitely brushed, was untameable as ever. The old soldier cracked a grin as his slightly taller friend finally caught up to him.

"Well, that meeting went off the rails, huh?" He asked with a chuckle as they started walking away from the chaos behind them. Matthew could only sigh and shake his head, wavy blond hair getting momentarily stuck on his glasses.

"You mean it went to hell in a handbasket? I would certainly say so. Y-you know… I was um, kind of hoping it would." Canada admitted with a blush. Gilbert definitely caught that blush, and had to stop himself from squealing. This was normal, right? It was normal to want a meeting to end early. There were definitely no ulterior motives at play… right?

"Ja? Why's that?"

"W-well, u-um… we're in my country, a-as you know," the blond stammered, not making eye contact. Calm down! You're only asking him to come over, not anything else. He had to remind himself. His wildly beating heart apparently didn't care. "A-and this meeting hall is only an hour away from my house, so I w-was wondering if, um, if you might want to come over? I-I understand if you need to get home soon, or if you d-don't want to, or anythi-"

The blond was cut off by a signature cackle from the albino. Mattie was inviting him over? And getting all flustered and red by asking? How could Prussia ever say no to a face as cute and red as that?

"Ja, I'll come over! Need to make sure your house has the appropriate amount of awesome, after all. I'll text West when we're on the way. To your car!" He exclaimed, walking ahead to lead the way despite not really knowing which vehicle was the Canadian's. All Matthew could do was grin and follow behind.

Once the two were out of the building and in the parking lot, it became quite obvious which vehicle was Canada's. That being said, Gilbert wasn't exactly expecting dainty Matthew to drive a big red Chevy Silverado. The Canadian flag waving proudly from the side was expected, though. The albino had stopped dead when he realised which chariot they would be taking to the Canadian's home. The blond, who had walked ahead and already had one foot on the side bar, realised that the other wasn't following. He raised a thin eyebrow at his companion, who was apparently completely gobsmacked.

"Coming, Gil?"

Forty minutes later, the two had pulled into a Tim Hortons to change and get coffee. The albino had ditched his stuffy business clothes for more comfortable grey sweatpants and a black band t-shirt. The albino felt his cheeks warm up as he watched the other exit the bathroom. The purple dress shirt had been swapped for Canada's favourite red flannel. Prussia had been right about the jeans and belt buckle, by the way. Blond hair had been put up into a bun, with just a few golden strands framing the face that made Prussia's heart swell. This was the real Matthew; the one who wasn't trying to hide. This had become Gilbert's favourite thing to experience after ditching the other losers early.

Something that Prussia had never gotten to experience, though, was the moment he found himself in after the two got back in the red beast and started their journey home.

"You haven't seen much of my country at all, have you?" Matthew had asked, one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding his nearly empty coffee.

"Nein, just Ottawa and Toronto. Why?"

The mischievous glint in violet eyes hadn't escaped his notice. Curiosity was piqued when he was handed the taller man's phone.

"Put on the playlist called 'Back Roads', and I would suggest finishing your drink in the next five minutes."

Gilbert was sure the Canadian countryside was beautiful. How could it not be, with this incredible man beside him as its representation? He didn't get to see much of the scenery to confirm his theory. As soon as the playlist was put on, starting with 'The Trooper' by Iron Maiden, Matthew had turned onto a dirt road and floored the gas. The red chariot tore along the back roads at its master's whim, leaving a sizable trail of dust in its wake. The windows were down and the music was as loud as the system would allow. It still wasn't enough to drown out the screams of speed-drunk joy from the Prussian.

The truck's wheels momentarily left the ground when presented with a small hill and enough speed to get airborne. It was in those few seconds that time seemed to slow down for Gilbert. His ruby eyes were glued to the man beside him, to the grin of pure pleasure and adrenaline the other wore, to his lips as he half sang, half screamed the chorus of 'No Surrender' by Beast in Black, to the cool confidence Matthew exuded as he broke the speed limit several times over and flew a vehicle not meant to fly. The tires landing on the dirt with a squeal brought Gilbert back from his momentary trance with the beginnings of a realisation. He could, he thought, allow himself to deny his feelings for a little longer. Especially when the present moment was so incredible.

Matthew finally returned his poor truck to a normal, sane speed as they approached his property. One might expect the representative of a superpower nation to have a mansion with lavish gardens and other hallmarks of fanciness. Not Canada, however. He parked his truck in the dirt driveway of a one-storey cottage close to the shore of a lake, with a perfect view of towering mountains making an incredible backdrop. Prussia didn't exactly think that was fair. His breath had already been stolen by the blond beside him. How was it fair that the landscape the man represented would do the same?

"You know," The bespectacled man began. He turned off the beast as he spoke and turned to his companion with a breathless grin. "I feel a lot better than before we left."

Gilbert couldn't help but cackle. "Mattie, if that's how you de-stress after a meeting, then I call permanent dibs on shotgun."

"Deal."

With that, the two got out of the truck. The blond grabbed his things out of the back seat while Gilbert took a look at the cottage. A dirt path led from the driveway to a small set of wooden stairs. The stairs themselves ended at a beautiful wooden porch, complete with a rocking chair on one end and what the albino could only assume was gear for outdoor sports of some sort on the other. There was no indication that any other abode was nearby. This certainly wasn't the middle of a busy city, where Gilbert lived nowadays. No other vehicles made a sound. Only the chirping of birds, the lapping of nearby water, and the crunch of Matthew's shoes on gravel graced the albino's ears. Well, that and his ringtone. Now who would be-

"Ah, scheisse."

He'd forgotten to text Ludwig.

Gilbert didn't answer the phone call, much to his brother's probable chagrin. He did type with speed rivalling that of the truck he was leaning against to assure his kin that he hadn't done anything stupid (Matthew had been the one driving, after all!), that he was at Canada's house and that he was safe. From the tone of Ludwig's texts he was less than pleased that he hadn't been notified sooner. But he did seem relieved that his brother was with someone who was 'responsible' and would hopefully keep him out of trouble.

With his texting finished, Prussia looked up to start walking. His feet wouldn't move, though, because his eyes weren't finished soaking in every minute detail of the image before him. Canada had already made his way to his cottage, unlocked it, and thrown his bag inside somewhere. He leaned with his elbows resting on the dark wood of his porch. His hair blew ever so slightly in the calm spring breeze, a feeble attempt by nature to mask the relaxed, almost tender smile on the man's face. With the mountains behind him acting as towering sentinels, and the man himself having paused to wait, Gilbert briefly entertained the idea that maybe he'd like to spend a lot more time here. Maybe. He shook his head to dispel any thoughts that took away from the current moment and started walking up a path he knew he'd end up walking at least a hundred times over. He hoped he'd be walking up to Canada waiting for him as many times. So much for denying his feelings.

"Ludwig, I imagine?" Canada asked as he held the door open for his companion.

"Ja. I meant to message him while we were on the way, but someone had to drive like an absolute lunatic~" The albino could almost hear the eye roll as the taller man closed the door behind them.

"Oh, shush you. You know you loved that."

"...Okay, it was a little awesome."

Shoes and boots lay discarded by the front door as the pair made their way deeper into the abode. Gilbert was left in the living room while his companion went into the kitchen to start dinner. Seeing as he was alone, at least for the moment, the old soldier did a thorough inspection of his immediate surroundings. He was here to make sure the cottage was awesome, after all.

The 70's were alive and well in the orange floral wallpaper that graced the walls. Pictures spanning just about every decade photographs existed were hung up with pride. Some bore labels written in the chicken scratch Gilbert knew to be Matthew's. Others needed no such thing. Crimson eyes felt drawn to any images that contained the blond in them, of which there were precious few.

In one, Canada posed very seriously with the Queen of England, and England himself, at her Majesty's coronation. In another, Matthew stood grinning from ear to ear with the Toronto Maple Leafs hockey team that won the Stanley Cup in 1967. The final picture he saw with Matthew in it was much more recent. This picture sat framed on top of the red brick fireplace, where one could see it no matter where in the living room one was. Gilbert recognized it immediately.

Ever the sentimental one, the Canadian had printed out a selfie he and Prussia took on their first escape from a world meeting. That particular meeting was held in Japan about six years ago. The albino could feel his cheeks getting as red as the sweater his companion had worn that day. Especially when he compared the picture in his hands to that of his phone's wallpaper: A picture of Canada, one hand in his sweater pocket, the other reaching up to gingerly touch a cherry blossom. Gilbert had taken that picture while his fellow escapee was distracted by the beauty all around him.

"You dork." The older man whispered as he picked up the frame to get a good look at the selfie. Both he and Canada were absolutely beaming, cheeks flushed, and hands up in peace signs. He recalled that they'd both done that without discussing it first and had a good laugh about it afterwards. Gilbert could feel a tender smile working it's way on to his face. It was a smile very few people had ever seen. It was a smile Matthew had seen more than once. God, when had he become such a sap? If Prussia from a hundred years ago was told he'd be crushing on Canada, he would have laughed hysterically at the concept of having a crush and continued planning whatever conquest was next. Yet there he stood, in the middle of the coziest living room he'd ever been in, wondering if Matthew looked at this photo and thought of him often. His gaze lingered on the picture for just a second or two longer, drinking in the minute details of his crush's face that he couldn't quite get from his phone wallpaper.

Matthew was in a maelstrom of delicious smells in the kitchen. His hips swished as he absentmindedly hummed a song he would be thoroughly embarrassed if Gilbert knew. Hopefully, though, the sizzling of steaks in the frying pan would be enough to cover his soft voice. He opened the fridge to grab something and took a look into the living room to see what his guest was doing. He was… standing near the fireplace, a radiant, gentle smile on his face, holding a picture frame. Canada felt his cheeks go as red as his flag the second he realized which picture the other was looking at so fondly. He called upon his French heritage to retreat further into the kitchen. The steaks would be fine as he took a moment to collect himself.

It had always baffled Matthew why, of all people, Prussia chose him to hang out with. The latter did have a reputation for complete chaos, impulsivity, and general boisterousness, after all. It baffled him even more how quickly the old soldier had let his guard down. Sure, it took nearly two years of them ditching every meeting early. But Matthew would never forget the night they drove around Munich, baring their souls and finding someone who understood in each other. That was the night he'd received his nickname: Birdie. He could also pin that as the night that his feelings began, though one look at the picture on the mantelpiece would refute that statement. He'd… maybe always had a little crush on the albino. Maybe a little.

The blond took a deep breath and considered himself as collected as he was going to be. He returned to his frying pan just in time to flip the steaks and begin butter basting them. He was, for the first time in forever, grateful that his old wooden floors creaked. It let him know his guest was coming into the kitchen. He'd expected the man to maybe go sit in one of four mismatched chairs, but no. Prussia leaned against the counter right beside him and inspected his work.

Gilbert didn't bother asking why the taller man was blushing like crazy. He had a feeling he'd been caught looking at the picture. But there was plausible deniability, he thought! That was a good memory. The start of something wonderful. The albino felt that smile creep back on his face as he thought about it, but thankfully, that could be explained away by the scent of food. Probably.

"Birdie, those smell awesome! You know, back in the day," he began. 'Back in the day' could indicate ten years ago; it could indicate five hundred years ago. Matthew loved the times when he was told these anecdotes. "I was an expert at cooking meat over a fire. We didn't have the words for how cooked the food was, though. It was either cooked, or gave you food poisoning. Which I only got once!"

"M-maybe next time you're over we can have a cookout, then. There's a really good butcher in town we can get some stuff from. Dinner's done, by the way. C-can you hand me those plates?"

Prussia did as he was asked and handed his chef for the night the two plates. A large, beautiful steak and healthy helping of German potato salad were heaped on each. He followed the younger man to the table and sat right beside him. They ate in silence at first. Well, as silent as the albino could be while eating probably the best food he'd had in quite some time. The steak he'd been given was cooked to a lovely medium rare and seasoned to perfection. It was hard to come by authentic potato salad outside of his homeland, but the Canadian had absolutely nailed it.

"E-enjoying?" Matthew asked with a little chuckle. He had done pretty well with dinner, hadn't he?

"Awesome doesn't even cover this. How is it that whenever you cook for me, it's the best thing I've ever tasted?"

The blush on the blond's cheeks came back full force, dusting his whole face with crimson. All he could muster was a shrug to the Prussian's question and to shove his face with more food. Gilbert definitely caught that, and definitely had a good laugh about it.

"Guess you'll just have to cook more for me so I can find out!"

Soon enough, plates were empty and bellies were full. Without a word, Prussia got up, gathered all the dishes, oriented himself with the sink and began washing. Matthew had been so nice, cooking an incredible meal for him. Letting him relax afterwards was the least the albino could do. A little, tiny, miniscule gasp escaped his lips as he felt arms wrap around him from behind. Any tension left in his body simply melted away under the banishing influence of the taller man nuzzling his hair a little.

"M-merci, Gil. I-I'm going to go find a movie for us to watch."

Gilbert thought better about opening his mouth, for once. He nodded, nuzzled back ever so slightly, and found himself severely disappointed when deceptively strong arms let him go. He released the breath he'd held once he heard the other move to the living room. The dishes were finished as fast as possible while still being spotless and left to dry in the drying rack. Once his task was complete he promptly made his way to join Canada on the blue loveseat. The opening credits for a movie were already playing, but it wasn't until the first lines of the movie were spoken that the Prussian recognized it with a laugh.

"You chose Shrek?"

"H-hey, it's a good movie!

All the albino could do was grin and settle into the couch. Truth be told, he hadn't seen this movie in quite some time. Perhaps it would be nice to turn his brain off for a little.

He tried to focus on the film, he really did. But his red eyes kept wandering over to the mantelpiece and the photo he'd set back on top. They were about a third of the way through the movie when he sighed and dug his phone out of his pocket. The device was tossed to a surprised Canada.

"1-5-2-5." The albino said simply. His eyes stared dead ahead at the TV, but his cheeks were as red as the maple leaves the other was oh so obsessed with. Curious, Matthew unlocked the phone with the given PIN.

It was immediately obvious what he was supposed to be looking at.

Prussia heard the small gasp from the blond and bit his lip a little. He tore his eyes away from the movie to gauge the other's reaction. Shock was the most prevalent, but there was something beneath that that gave the albino hope. Violet eyes, with just a tear or two, raised to meet brilliant scarlet. All the albino wanted to do was wipe the tears from those pools of purple, but he figured an explanation was needed first. He tried very hard to give that explanation. He tried to say anything, to explain that he'd had feelings for the nation for years now, that even surrounded by lovely cherry blossoms in spring, Canada was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. That he wasn't sure what he'd done to deserve the companionship of the blond, but he would try every day to prove he was worthy of it. He watched quizzically as Matthew's glasses and the phone he held were set down on the coffee table in front of them. A soft smile tugged at the corners of the Canadian's lips. Prussia couldn't help himself if he tried.

He raised a pale hand to cup the burning hot face of the man he so adored. He leaned in and pressed their foreheads together, not wanting to move too swiftly. He wanted to savour this moment. Long, delicate fingers threaded their way through his hair, ensuring him that his advances were welcome. His thumb brushed across the other's soft skin. It was now or never.

"Ich liebe dich, Matthew." He whispered. He felt a tear overflow its purple levee and swiped it away.

"Je t'aime à la folie." Came the almost inaudible reply. Prussia's French had never been all that good, but he got the message. He took a breath and pressed his lips against Matthew's, a movement which was immediately reciprocated. He wrapped his other arm around the Canadian and pulled him close. Their kiss was slow, soft and sweet, a gentle sealing and a firm promise of their newfound relationship.

It was Matthew who pulled back first, face fully flushed and very much out of breath. Gilbert couldn't help but grin as he found himself in a tight embrace. He may not have always known why he continued to go to the meetings, but he knew why neither he nor Canada would be in attendance tomorrow.

"You know, Birdie, it's a real shame you 'tripped' and 'sprained your ankle' and can't go to the meeting tomorrow, huh?"

A chuckle bubbled out like music from the blond as he pressed their foreheads together once more. "I-I did fall pretty hard for you… Tell Germany I'll send him my notes tomorrow?"

"Of course, liebling."

Fin

Translations:

Ich liebe dich: I love you

Je t'aime a la folie: I love you like crazy

Liebling: Darling