It's all my moms fault that i'm sick... god my body hurts... here have a snippet.
It wasn't until they were at the meeting that Alfred finally realized why he should have kept out of the drinking game last night.
Walking into the room side by side with Matthew, wearing nothing but ties, aprons, and bear ears.
The room fell silent and all eyes were on them. He wasn't bothered by those ogling him. No he was bothered all the eyes that were watching Matthew's pale lean body with pure unadulterated interest.
"This is your entire fault Alfred." Matthew hisses, his face redder than Alfred has ever seen it and he's shaking slightly. For once though, Alfred agrees with him as he glares at several nations staring at his brother.
Suddenly there is a wolf whistle, before Matthew gives a little shriek. Looking over he sees France's hand on Matthew's ass and his self-control breaks. Lunging over he tackles Francis to the ground.