Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. I disclaim everything.

Matthew blinked in surprise. He had not expected to come face-to-face with Gilbert Beilschmidt of all people. The two had collided in the library, books flying all ways, like in a cartoon. Matthew knew him of course, from high school, but the rebellious albino had been a few years older and Matthew didn't really expect him to remember their encounters. Even if they had been numerous.

Imagine then, Matthew's extra dose of shock when Gilbert's face cracked into a grin, "Hi Matthew."

Matthew's eyes widened and he barely managed to stammer out "Gilbert" in return.

"Watch where you're goin' kid, how'd you not see the awesome me headed your way?"

Ah. So the years had not, apparently, dulled the insufferable arrogance that Gilbert had possessed in childhood, it had followed him to university. "I didn't know that you had decided on school."

"Well. Its my first year!" He had said it with an enthusiasm that shocked Matthew. He had never expected his brother's friend to be so excited about school, "I got sick of working shit jobs y'know. I'm too awesome for that crap."

Matthew hummed, a non-committal noise, at Gilbert's statement. Matthew had never deluded himself into believing that the troublemaking teen was going to do anything with his life, "What are you taking?"

Gilbert frowned, "Well since I'm in first year they are making me take stupid things. But I want to take history." Matthew raised his eyebrows. Interesting. He hadn't been expecting that. The Gilbert he remembered had never taken interest in anything scholarly. He had been too busy drinking and starting fights. Usually in tandem. "What're you takin kid?"

"Political science."

Gilbert collected his scattered books and gave Matthew a nod, "See ya 'round kid." Matthew watched as Gilbert disappeared into the depths of the stacks. A moment later he scooped up his own books and went back to the table he and Alfred had been studying at. What a bizarre encounter.

Alfred was draped dramatically over his laptop, surrounded by physics textbooks, empty chip bags, and candy bar wrappers. Matthew sighed from across the table, flicking some of the debris at Alfred's head. Alfred groaned in response, muttering unintelligibly about his homework. The two were studying at the library, late, as finals loomed. Matthew got up, leaving Alfred to his own devices, intent on getting coffee. That was the only thing that was going to make this night bearable.

Matthew went to the coffee shop a block away and was in the process of ordering a cappuccino when he saw him. He hadn't given his encounter with Gilbert much thought, the press of essays and exams pushing the meeting out of his mind. But there he was, slouched in front of his laptop, typing away intently. Apparently their meeting had not been a dream.

The grumpy brown haired barista shoved Matthew's drink into his hand. He seemed about to say something rude, but Matthew turned away before he could. Matthew thought about approaching Gilbert, but decided against it, instead choosing to slink out of the cafe.

It was not to be. Iron fingers clasped his shoulder and when he turned around he looked into the grinning face of Gilbert. Well shit.

The summer had passed uneventfully. Matthew took a summer course and Alfred went back to his hometown. Matthew even got the chance, one night, to introduce Gilbert and Arthur. The two had taken an instant dislike to each other. Gilbert mocking Arthur's uptight stuffiness and Arthur criticising Gilbert's self conceited nature. Of course the two loved to drink, and Matthew had at least had the foresight to introduce them in a bar. The night had ended with the two of them becoming ridiculously hammered and deciding to do reckless and illegal things.

Later Gilbert proclaimed he couldn't stand the man, but as the summer turned into fall the two had begun to meet up for regular drinks, which usually turned into drunken shenanigans. Matthew would accompany them sometimes, if only out of fear for what the two of them would get up to without a mediating presence. On the nights he failed to go with Arthur and Gilbert, they had a tendency to fight one another, which had gotten them banned from more than one pub in the city. On the nights all three went out together they usually ended up at a club, and Matthew, blushing, could remember more than one night spent drunkenly dancing with the albino.

Matthew and Gilbert studied together often now. Other than a few meet-ups at the bar Matthew had hardly heard from Gilbert all summer, but he had emerged from the woodwork in the fall demanding that Matthew be his study-buddy. He walked towards their table and saw Gilbert talking to a tall muscular blond. The blond saw Matthew approaching, smiled at him and then down at Gilbert before leaving. Matthew slid into the seat across the table, and glanced at the troubled looking Gilbert. "Hey. What's wrong?"

"Oh. My brother. Its not important." Gilbert laughed it off, "Just money."

"Money is generally considered pretty important."

Gilbert sighed, "Its just been difficult lately. Luckily Ludwig is done school this year."

"Ludwig is the blond..." Matthew trailed off, meaning it as a statement.

Gilbert nodded, then smacked himself in the head, "Oh shit! Sorry Mattie! I forgot to introduce you two!"

Matthew waved it off impatiently, "Gilbert have you been paying for his school?"

Gilbert's shoulders slumped, he nodded, "And the place we live. Well Ludwig gets a scholarship, there isn't a ton to pay so..."

"Is that why you took time off between high school and university?"

"Yes." It was barely audible.

"Is that why you are part time now?"

Gilbert frowned and nodded.

"And why you work a billion hours a week at that restaurant?"

Gilbert scowled, "Yes. And why I worked constantly throughout high school. So I could send my little brother to university."

Matthew was shellshocked. So he said the first thing that came to mind disbelievingly, "You worked in high school."

"Yes! I lied about all that shit. About the girls I was seeing. Or the band I was in. All lies." He laughed bitterly, "My whole high school life was just lies. How unawesome is that?"

Matthew blinked. "I think its super awesome."

"You do?"

"Yeah, of course I do." Matthew smiled, "You did all those things for your brother's future. I wish Francis felt so strongly for me as you do for Ludwig. He is really lucky." Gilbert ducked his head, avoiding Matthew's eyes. He was blushing. It was cute. A word that Matthew had never thought to associate with the rough-talking albino. "Apparently all that talk about you being awesome has some truth to it," Matthew teased, eager to get them back on solid ground. Eager to place himself there.

His please was belated. It always was. Like an afterthought to the wide grin he seemed to believe was a charming smile. He thought of himself as handsome, but Matthew thought he never managed more than cute in these moments. The tenderness and awkwardness behind his words and actions always managed to shine through. And Matthew had to smile when this happened, helpless to the surge of happiness he felt when Gilbert did tack his manners on the ends of his sentences when they were together. The politeness, belated, allowed for Matthew to see without words how much Gilbert cared, how much he felt, despite the arrogant front.

He hid less, these days, behind the conceit. He would strip it off when they met, and Matthew thought he could see the relief in his eyes at having one person he didn't have to wear his bravado before. But when Alfred or Arthur, or even Ludwig, approached them while they were drinking cappuccinos served by the bitchy barista, or holed up in the library editing each others essays, he would half heartedly shrug back into his maniacal cocky laughter and mocking grins. Matthew hated that. Seeing him transform before his very eyes.

It broke his heart.

Arthur approached Matthew first, one day after their weekly drinking date. He had smiled, emerald eyes actually happy beneath his generally sardonic bushy eyebrows. And Matthew had to wonder why he was only friends with assholes. "You've changed him." Matthew didn't get the chance to answer before Arthur was clapping his hand on Matthew's back, "Congratulations." He disappeared down the street, leaving Matthew confused in his wake.

They went to dinner at Roderich and Elizaveta's. It was a monthly occurrence, the married couple taking the starving university students in for dinner - they had joked, Gilbert's face reddening in anger at the thought of accepting Roderich's charity. Matthew had watched in shock, that first time, as Elizaveta physically beat Gilbert while Roderich ignored them and made supper. The surreality of the situation had not lessened with time.

This time, after they had all eaten their fill, Roderich trying to force thirds and fourths down their throats, when Roderich and Gilbert had begun tending to the dishes, bickering at the top of their lungs, Elizaveta had cornered Matthew. "He is helping Roddo." She said it fondly, as if she had been waiting for the two of them to get along since childhood.

To be fair, Matthew also noticed that helping the stuffy musician with the dishes was not something that Gilbert would have normally done until Elizaveta had beaten him within an inch of his life. "He is finally happy now," she sighed, her eyes still smiling, "That is all your doing you know."

Matthew opened his mouth to protest when Gilbert bounded back into the room, slinging his arm around Matthew's shoulders, his grin wide, eyes happy. Elizaveta had smiled a knowing smile then and Matthew wondered what joke he was missing.

Matthew was sitting, jittering, twitching in the library, bent over the final words of his thesis, strung out on too much coffee and not enough sleep. Gilbert had found him there, buried in a pile of books about international policy and had sat down to his own book mountain. Matthew was attempting to write, but the words were not forming, and he could feel Gilbert's eyes following his every action, and it was really distracting.

He looked up at Gilbert, smiling, despite his anxieties, "What's wrong?"

Gilbert looked for a second like he wasn't going to say anything, before "What are you doing after grad?" fell out of his mouth of its own accord.

Matthew smiled at the question, surprised the albino had not raised it much earlier. Gilbert looked worried and it touched Matthew's heart that he cared so much. "I had thought about going on for my masters, but I didn't fully consider that until it was too late. I'd have to wait until next year now."

Gilbert nodded, but surprisingly kept his mouth shut. "I had considered taking the year off, travelling you know? I have always wanted to go to South America."

Gilbert nodded again and Matthew kept talking, "I applied for an internship." Gilbert nodded, his face paler than normal, "with Immigration." Matthew could see the worry in his eyes and found it endearing, "I got the job. It's here."

Matthew had barely got the sentence out of his mouth when Gilbert let out a whoop of excitement and happiness, and leapt across the table to hug Matthew. "That's awesome! You're awesome!" As Gilbert beamed at him, eyes delighted, smiling wider than Matthew had ever seen, he knew he had made the right choice.

It was dinner at Elizaveta and Roderich's again. It was a celebratory dinner this time though. Elizaveta threw it with a knowing look in her eye, congratulating Matthew on his convocation and internship, "What a success," she had said, winking at Gilbert. Matthew continued to pretend he didn't understand.

Elizaveta did the dishes this time, dragging Gilbert into the kitchen with her despite his protests. Roderich smiled at Matthew, sliding his glasses up his nose. Or at least Matthew took it to be a smile. The aristocratic man at least looked less sour than he did when Gilbert was in the room. Matthew wasn't even entirely sure if they were friends. They had all known each other for ages, but Matthew wondered if it was because of Elizaveta that Roderich and Gilbert hung out.

Roderich cleared his throat, glancing towards the kitchen as if to make sure Gilbert and Elizaveta were still occupied. "You probably do not see it the way Elizaveta and I do," Roderich started, addressing Matthew, who gaped in confusion, "You really have changed him for the better you know." Roderich hesitated, smiled, a real smile this time, "He truly appreciates the fact that you are staying in the city. Even if he will never tell you that."

Matthew felt the words coming out of his mouth before he could stop them, "He already did."

Roderich looked shocked, a look that Matthew had never thought to see upon the composed man's face, "Really?"

"Well. Yeah. I mean. I never needed his words did I?"

"You really do love him don't you?" Matthew's eyes widened in surprise. He had never expected to hear his own feelings thrown back at him from the mouth of a man he barely knew. Roderich smiled again, humming contentedly, nodding his approval.

Later, as Gilbert and Matthew walked home, their arms brushing each others in a rare, but companionable, silence, Matthew reflected upon his conversation with Roderich. Apparently the two really were friends after all, and without giving it another moment of thought, no time for doubts, he reached over and grasped the albino's hand. Gilbert blinked, but curled his own fingers around Matthew's. Neither of them said a word. Matthew knew they didn't need to.

They would sometimes spend their weekend mornings curled up in bed together. Gilbert usually rose with the sun, but sometimes on the weekends he would linger in bed a little longer, much to Matthew's delight. They would talk sometimes in these stolen moments, but were generally just content to lie in each others arms exchanging kisses.

This morning was different though, Gilbert awoke in a panic, hastily rising from bed. He tripped, legs tangled in his black bed sheets, as he tried to put on clothes. "Gil! Gilbert! What are you doing?"

Gilbert paused, pants unbuttoned, shirt on backwards, his white hair sticking out at all angles, looking like Arthur's (a comparison Matthew knew Gilbert would hate and rush to fix), "I have to meet my thesis advisor." Gilbert continued to hop around, attempting to put socks on and untangle the bedsheets from his feet at the same time. "I have to meet her one last time before I hand the damned thing in."

"Gilbert!" Gilbert continued to rush around the room, collecting his wallet and his keys before stepping into the bathroom. "Gilbert!" Matthew got up and followed him in there, "Gilbert. It's sunday."

Gilbert looked at Matthew, mouth full of toothpaste, "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

Matthew smiled, "I tried."

Gilbert spat out the toothpaste and looked at his haphazard reflection, "Matt. Were you really gonna let me leave the house like this?"

"Well you are old enough to dress yourself," Matthew shrugged, yawning widely, and headed back into the bedroom.

"My hair is messier than Arthur's!"

Matthew nodded, climbing back into bed, "It sure is."

"And I look worse than Alfred."

Matthew pulled the blankets around himself, "You sure do."

Gilbert pouted, "Mattie, you aren't supposed to agree."

"I thought your words were always awesome?"

Gilbert pulled his shirt off. "I hate you," he laughed, kissing Matthew as he climbed back into bed.

Matthew watched as Gilbert stepped around the maze of boxes that littered what would be their living room, "Mattie? This is all right? Fuck we have a lot of shit."

Matthew laughed, digging through one of the boxes, full of books and dvds. "Well I hope so. Who knew you had so much junk?"

"Its not junk! Its important."

Matthew reached into a box and pulled out a handful of history books, "Right. Because any one person needs fifty books on Prussia and another fifty on the Teutonic knights."

Gilbert laughed, shaking his head, "You exaggerate. Besides I need them."

"Oh?"

"For my dissertation."

"Never heard of a library?"

Gilbert took the books from Matthew's hands and placed them on one of the bookshelves, "The books stay."

Matthew laughed again and wandered into the kitchen to unpack while Gilbert took care of the books. Gilbert had a huge book collection and an extremely unique system of organization that Matthew did not want to interfere with. Matthew's only regret was that his own books were about to be incorporated into Gilbert's meticulous cataloguing system and he would never be able to find them again.

Matthew was in the process of putting away dishes when Gilbert ran into the room and collided with Matthew. He began covering Matthew's face with kisses. Matthew giggled, grabbing Gilbert's hands, "What is going on Gilbert?"

Gilbert smiled wide, with all his teeth showing, completely delighted, "Nothing," he leant down for another kiss.

Matthew smiled against his lips disbelieving. Gilbert was always up to something. "I love you too." Gilbert blushed in response, and wrapped his arms tightly around Matthew. The unguarded swirl of emotion and tenderness in Gilbert's eyes was all Matthew needed. He pulled Gilbert down for another kiss in the middle of their unpacked kitchen.

He had been gone for more than three weeks. It was supposed to have been a quick trip back home to see his family – an emergency, sickness and death – but Gilbert had been delayed and Matthew hadn't really heard from in a week. Their cluttered apartment boasted pictures on every wall. Milestones of their relationship. It hurt. Matthew had taken to walking around the apartment without his glasses on, a mad gambit to forget just how lonely he was without Gilbert. It wasn't working.

The days stretched on endlessly. Matthew wandered around aimlessly, went to work mechanically. He had taken to carrying bits of string in his pockets. Reminders of Gilbert. Gilbert used the strings in books to mark information he deemed important. These seemingly random bits of different coloured string filled almost every book in the apartment. Even the fantasy novels that they had been gifted by Arthur and the borrowed sci-fi ones from Alfred had coloured string in them.

Matthew used the strings for his own purposes. Every time he missed Gilbert he would place another one in his pocket. He would hold them, clenched up in his fist, when they would talk briefly on the phone or when someone asked about Gilbert. It didn't make the waiting easier. He only hoped it would.

He had been back for more than a month now and he still found bits of string in all of Matthew's clothing when he did the wash. Gilbert had asked the blond why once, but he had only blushed and shrugged. Gilbert would never admit it, but thought Matthew's more saccharine actions were cute. He also desperately hoped that Matthew hadn't taken the string out of their books for his own sentimental purposes.

As he scraped more string out of the dryer lint, he noticed one thing about the strands. They were all red. Every string he had collected out of the laundry had been red. He wondered if there was a subtle message Matthew was trying to convey.

With a sigh Gilbert gathered up the ever growing heap of red string and walked into the kitchen. Matthew was sitting there with the newspaper and some kind of pretentious loose leaf tea that Gilbert could never be bothered to drink. He placed the string next to Matthew.

Matthew looked at it, then up at Gilbert, "What's all this?"

Gilbert sighed again and then forced himself to look into Matthew's eyes. "I love you too," he said.

Thanks for reading! All advice and criticisms are welcome, it is the best way to improve. If you find any spelling/grammatical error let me know so I can fix it.