He was lost again. He was so miserably lost.

Matthew bit his lip, trying to stop the trembling, until he could taste blood. He knew he should have just taken the bus. He shouldn't have tried to walk. But no, so now here he was, lost in some shady part of town. A light rain started to fall, and Matthew groaned loudly. This couldn't get any worse. He fumbled for his phone and punched in Alfred's number. He picked up on the fourth ring.

"Ahaha, yeah! Hey wait, hold up… Hello?"
Matthew could hear voices, many voices, in the background. This was supposed to be his day! Just him and his brother.
"Helloooooo?"
He swallowed. "A-Al? I think I'm lost…"
"Lost?" His brother echoed.
"Y-yeah… I was on my way to your house, and-"
"Wait, my house?"
Matthew tried to tell himself that it was only the rain getting in his eyes.
"Y-yeah… I-I thought we were playing hockey today…"
"Hey guys! Keep it down!" Alfred yelled out to someone on the other end of the line. "Oh, jeez, Mattie, I forgot!"

Figured.

"I can't leave the house right now, but when you get here, I'll get you back home, okay?"
"How am I-"
"You'll figure something out!"
"But-"
"Haha, no way! Gotta go, Mattie! See ya in a bit!"
"Wait!" But the line was already dead.

His eyes burned, and he sank to his knees, not caring that his jeans were getting wet. Matthew let his head smack against the brick wall in front of him, whimpering when it hurt more than he thought it would. Pressing his head against the cool wall, a heavy sigh left his lips. He didn't notice he wasn't alone until an umbrella was held out over him.

"You okay?"
Matthew jerked his head up in surprise. He was greeted by ruby red eyes. He had never seen such eyes before. They were so… mesmerizing.
The stranger grinned. "Something on my face?"
"N-no!" Matthew blushed furiously and turned away.
The red-eyed man's grin grew wider before dropping into a sympathetic smile.
"Have you been crying?"
Matthew flushed harder and scrubbed at his cheeks with the sleeve of his jacket.
"No…" He mumbled.
"Your eyes are all red."
"So are yours!" He immediately clamped a hand over his mouth. "S-sorry!" He squeaked. "I d-didn't mean to…"
The stranger looked surprised, his red eyes wide. Then he threw back his head and laughed, tossing his silver hair about. Silver hair and red eyes… Such exotic features.

"I like you, kid!" The stranger held out his hand. "I'm Gilbert. Gilbert Beilschmidt."
Matthew reached for the outstretched hand. "M-Mathew Williams."
Gilbert pulled him to his feet.
"A-and I'm not a kid! I'm a-already twenty-two…"
"Woah, really? Could've fooled me. You have such a pretty face." Gilbert leaned down to brush the bangs out of Matthew's face.
"That's not something a guy wants to hear…" He murmured in reply, letting his gaze fall to his feet. For some odd reason, his heart fluttered at the simple gesture.

But Gilbert was right. Matthew did have a pretty face. Silky blonde hair and clear violet eyes. Soft delicate features, pink plump lips… God, those lips looked delicious. Gilbert wanted to capture those lips and never let them go. This boy was perfect in his eyes.

When he pulled his hand back from Matthew's forehead, he noticed a dot of red on his finger.
"Are you bleeding?"
"O-oh…" Matthew reached up to touch his forehead. "Y-yeah…"
"Hold up… I have a band-aid somewhere…" Gilbert passed the umbrella to Matthew and patted down his pockets. He found what he was looking for in his back pocket and gave Matthew a triumphant grin. Matthew watched Gilbert's nimble fingers peel open the paper encasing the band-aid. When he noticed the pattern on the band-aid – pink and covered with kittens – he let out a small giggle. Gilbert grinned sheepishly before sticking the adhesive bandage on Matthew's forehead.
"My brother's boyfriend pushed it on me."
Matthew's eyes went round. "B-boyfriend?"

Oh shit.

"I mean-"
Matthew gave a small smile. "It's fine. I'm pretty sure my b-brother is gay. Or b-bi at least." He gave a quiet, musical laugh.
Gilbert let out a relieved whoosh of air. "That's good."
"Good?"
"O-oh! Well…"
Matthew laughed again, and Gilbert felt completely at ease.

"You're soaked." He noted.
"H-huh?" Matthew looked down. "O-oh, yeah…"
"Do you…" Gilbert shuffled his feet in a way that could be interpreted as nervous. "Do you want to come to my house? You can dry off there…"
Matthew looked up in shock. "Y-your house?"
"Yeah."

All the bells and whistles were going off in his head, words he had heard so often as a child ringing in his ears.
"Never trust a stranger."
But Gilbert gave him a comforting smile, and all worry melted away.
"S-sure. I'd like that."

"Here we are." Gilbert flicked on the lights and closed the door behind them. It was a cozy, tidy townhouse in a nice neighborhood, even though it wasn't far from where they met.
Matthew let out a quiet laugh. "It's neater than I thought."
Gilbert rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, I actually live with my brother."
"The one with the boyfriend…?"
"He lives with us too." Gilbert gave a sheepish grin.
"I-I see…"
"Here, hand me your jacket. I'll hang it up."
Matthew nodded and shrugged off his wet jacket. As he did, his phone tumbled out of his pocket and clattered to the floor. Before he could stoop down to retrieve it, Gilbert had already placed it in his hand and was hooking his jacket on a peg by the door. Matthew looked at the object in his hand.
"U-um… I need to call my brother. He… He's probably worried about me."
Gilbert nodded. "Go ahead. I'll go get some towels and clothes for you."
"T-thanks…"

As soon as Gilbert left, Matthew dialed the number he knew so well.
"Hello?"
"H-hey… It's me."
"Who?"
"Y-your b-brother… Matthew…"
"OH!" He winced and held the phone away from his ear. "Matt-man! What's up?"
"U-um… I w-won't be showing up today…"
"Huh? You were coming over?"
Matthew could feel tears prick his eyes. "Y-yeah… We talked about it a couple minutes ago…"
"Aw, dude, I forgot!" Alfred's annoying laugh revertebrated through the phone. "See, Toni and Ivan took me to Mickey D's, and then I won two free Big Macs! How cool is that? So I got to eat fifteen Big Macs instead of thirteen! I bet you couldn't do that, eh, Mattie?"
Matthew clenched his fists to keep from crying.
"A-Al, I-"
"Man, it was awesome! You should come next time!"
"I tri-"
"But then again, I don't know if Toni and Ivan would find you much fun. You're kinda quiet and unsocial, ya know? Almost invisible!"
"A-Al!" Matthew did all he could to not break down.
"You really should try to be more like me! I'm handsome and awesome! I'm a frickin' hero!"

Suddenly an arm wrapped around his waist, and the phone was slipped out of his grasp. He let out a squeak of surprise.
"I'm sorry, but Matthew is very busy with me at the moment. He'll call you back as soon as he's available. Goodbye."
The phone was snapped shut with a little more force than necessary.
"G-Gilbert…"
"Sorry." The arm fell from his waist, and Gilbert stepped away. "That was out of line." He held out the phone like a peace offering.
Matthew took it and clutched it to his chest. "N-no… Thank you." He gave his saviour a small smile.
Gilbert returned the smile and handed the blonde a pile of clothes.
"They're Feli's – the boyfriend. They'll probably fit you the best."
"Thanks…"
Gilbert leaned over, towel in hand. He gently tousled Matthew's hair, before letting the towel drape around the younger man's shoulders. "Make sure to dry your hair all the way, or you'll catch a cold."
Matthew's heart drummed slightly, touched by the other's caring act.
"Bathroom's down the hall, first door on the right."
Matthew nodded in acknowledgement and trudged off.

Gilbert sank into the couch and sighed. What was he thinking, bringing a complete stranger to his house? He thought he had sworn never to do something like that again. Never again. Not since… Francis.

"U-um…" Matthew's soft voice broke through Gilbert's thoughts. "What should I do with my wet clothes…?"
"Oh," Gilbert leapt off the couch. "Let me get that."
He took the still dripping clothes and quickly made his way to the laundry room. Throwing the clothes in the dryer, he bit back a groan. Even Feliciano's clothes were too big for Matthew. The sweatpants sat teasingly low on the Canadian's perfect hips. The shirt hung tantalizingly down, baring a sinfully perfect neck. He remembered the smaller man's perfect warmth when he held him, the way his name feel from those perfect lips. Perfect, perfect, perfect. So fuckin' perfect.

"G-Gilbert?" Matthew's head poked into the room.
"Yeah?" He jerked up. "Something wrong?"
"N-no…" He fidgeted under the other's gaze. "You were gone a while… I just got a little w-worried…"
Gilbert smiled and read out to ruffle Matthew's hair.
"I'm fine, thanks."
Matthew flushed. "N-no problem!"
Gilbert chuckled inwardly at the other's innocence. "Would you like something to drink? Beer?"
"N-no, I can't hold my alcohol very well…"
Gilbert laughed. "A lightweight, eh?"
Matthew blushed harder. "Y-yeah…"
"Well, you want something else, then? Sprite, maybe?"
"S-sure… Sprite sounds good…"
"Wait for me in the living room." And then Gilbert disappeared off to the kitchen.

Gilbert leaned against the kitchen counter. "Mein Gott…"
The blonde was just too cute. He tried to stifle his laughter, but a couple unmanly snickers slipped out. When he finally calmed down, he cracked open the fridge. As he pulled out Matthew's choice of drink, something pushed in the back of the fridge caught his eye. It was an unopened wine bottle. Though it had been years since the bottle was put into the cold chamber, Gilbert could remember what the label read, as clear as day.

A half-empty beer dangled from the German's fingertips. Condensation rolled down the cold, tinted bottle, collecting on the floor underneath him. Four empty bottles littered the counter behind him. With one swig, he down the rest of the bottle. Dropping it down on the counter, he signaled to the bartender.
"Oi! Get me another!"
The bespectacled bartender shook his head, not even bothering to look up from the glass he was cleaning.
"You know Ludwig only lets you have five."
"Come on, Rody! I'm not even buzzed yet!"
"No means no, and don't call me that."
"Tch, stingy." Gilbert pushed himself off of the barstool. "I'm going to dance."

He made his way to the dance floor, swinging his hips in time to the pounding music. As he danced past a group of girls, they giggled loudly, raking their heavily make-uped eyes over his tightly clothed body. He was wearing his favorite jeans, the ones that left little to the imagination. He winked seductively, sending the girls into a flurry of squeals. Next thing he knew, he was being lifted to his toes by the front of his shirt.

"Hey, faggot." The man's breath reeked of alcohol. "You wanna stop hitting on my girl?"
Gilbert rolled his eyes. "If I was really a faggot, would I be hitting on a girl?"
"So we've got a wise ass, eh?" Another man appeared behind the first.
"Oh, please." The first sneered. "Just look how you dress. You're such a queer."
A hand fisted in his hair. "And what's with his hair? I bet he fucking bleaches it."

Just as Gilbert readied to knee the man in his family jewels, as glass smashed against the back of the man's head with deadly accuracy.
"The fuck?"
The two men whirled around to see a woman standing by the bar, another glass in her hand.
"Bitch!" The man snarled.
The glass whizzed past, grazing the top of the man's head, shattering against the wall behind them.
"Get. Out."

As the men scrambled for their lives, taking their girls with them, Gilbert was pushed to the floor. Tousling his hair, he picked himself off the ground and made his way to the bar.
"Thanks, Elizabeta."
"Tch." The woman tossed her hair over her shoulder and crossed her arms. "You're paying for those glasses."
Gilbert waved her off. "Sure, sure."
She glowered at him for a moment, then pecked Rodreich on the cheek before disappeared into the throng of club-goers.

"That's a feisty one you've got there."
Rodreich made a noncommittal noise.
"It's sad that's she's your wife and employer."
Rodreich set the glass down and twitched visibly. "We own this place together."
"You sure? It seems like she's got you pretty whipped."
He adjusted his glasses. "I refuse to have this discussion with you. Now, if you'll excuse me…"
And without another word, he walked to the patrons at the other end of the bar, leaving Gilbert alone.

The silverette tipped his head back, closing his eyes. Even behind shut lids, he could see the flashing lights, explosions of colour over a canvas of darkness.

Something cold pressed against his neck. He cracked one eye open to see Rodreich holding a beer out to him.
"I thought you said only five."
Rodreich shrugged and gestured to the man at the other end of the bar with a simple tilt of his chin.
"From him."
Gilbert grinned and took the bottle. "Cool, free beer."
He raised the bottle in a little salute to Rodreich and made his way to the end of the bar. He slid into the empty seat next to the man.
"Thanks for the beer."
The man looked up and smiled. "No problem." He leaned against the bar, looking interestedly at Gilbert. "Can I get a name in exchange for the drink?"
Gilbert took a sip of his beer, feeling a little nervous. "Gilbert. Gilbert Beilschmidt."
The man took Gilbert's and pressed his lips to it. "Enchante."

The man – Francis – kept the drinks coming, and soon, inhibition had flown out the window. When the two shared a heated kiss, and Francis suggested they go someplace else, Gilbert mustered up all his brain power to come up with a response.
"My place."

The taxi ride there was long and uncomfortable, but as soon as they reached their destination, sparks were flying. It was a wonder they even made it to the bed, but Gilbert and Francis had both lost their shirts somewhere alone the way.
"You don't live alone?" Francis' breathy voice was hot against Gilbert's stomach and he planted kisses lower and lower.
"No, I- ngh! My…" Gilbert struggled to reply. "My brother and his… ah! B-boyfriend…! But they… mm! Vaca-… vacation…"
"Is that so?" Francis hummed, sounding amused, against Gilbert's inner thigh.
When had his pants been taken off?
"W-wait!" Gilbert panted. He locked eyes with deep cerulean orbs. "I… I'm not gay! I've never done it with a guy before!"
Francis chuckled. "I'm happy to be your first."
"N-no!" Gilbert sat up. "I think… I think you should go home."
Francis looked at him with so much sincerity, he thought he might melt. "Even if I said I love you?"
Gilbert froze. "L-love…?
"Oui. Je t'aime. I love you, Gilbert."
"I…" Gilbert hesitated before coming completely undone. "I love you too, Francis!"
And he was swept away.

Gilbert woke up the next morning alone and with a horrible hangover. The spot next to him in bed was cold. His body screamed in pain at every move he made. When he finally made it to the kitchen, a lone bottle sat on the counter. It was a French wine with a name he couldn't read. What was written on the label that he could read, however, broke his heart.

Gilbert,

Thanks for the fun.

-Francis

He had never cried to hard before. Why did he do that? He had been young and foolish.. He had sworn to never let a stranger into his heart again… but here he was.

After a moment of deliberation, Gilbert yanked the bottle out of the fridge and dropped it into the trashcan. The loud shattering was satisfying.

Matthew came running in, seconds later. "G-Gilbert! Are you okay? I heard glass breaking!"
Unexpectedly, the silver haired man pulled the blonde into a hug.
"G-Gilbert…?"
Soft lips pressed against his.
"Matthew… Do you believe in love at first sight?"
Matthew's face turned impossibly red. "…I-"
"Veeeeeee~! Gilberto, we're homeee~!" A red head danced into the room, followed by a scowling blonde.
"Bruder, we're ba-" His eyes fell on Matthew. "Company?"
"Oooooh~" The red head ran forward, clasping Matthew's hands in his. "Is this your boyfriend, Gilberto?"
Matthew and Gilbert exchanged a glance. Gilbert cleared his throat. "Feli, this is Matthew. I don't kn-"
"Yes." Matthew cut in, blushing madly. "I… I'm his b-boyfriend. P-pleased to meet you."
"Veee~ Matteo is very shy, ne?"
Gilbert wrapped an arm around Matthew's shoulder, holding him tight. "I don't know." He smiled down at the man in his arms. "I think he's perfect."

Six Years Later

"Gil, I'm home!"
Matthew shut the door behind himself. He closed his umbrella with slender fingers and propped it up by the door. Strong arms cradled him from behind, and a head came to rest on top of his.
"Mm, I missed you, Mattie."
Matthew kissed his lover chastely on the lips. "I wasn't even gone that long."
"But I still missed you."
He smiled and leaned back into Gilbert, loving the other's embrace.
"Hey, Mattie?"
"Hm?"
"It's raining outside."
Matthew laughed quietly. "I know. I was just out there."
Gilbert nuzzled against Matthew's neck. "The rain always remind me of the first time we met." He kissed Matthew, feeling his warmth. "You are perfect to me. So, so, fuckin' perfect."

END

YEAH. My longest fic yet 8D
(Longest A/N too... :'D)

First, I'd like to dedicate this to two people very dear to my heart, who are, well, perfect for each other. I love you guys :)

Second, Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! I hope you get to spend it with that person who thinks you're perfect :3
If you're like me, for all it's worth, I think you're pretty perfect! :D

Now on to the actual author's notes~

I based this off of the song Perfect by P!nk (Okay, so technically, it's Fuckin' Perfect, and while I do use that a couple times, I thought it would kill the mood if I dropped the F bomb every time I used the word "perfect"... :P). This story really wrote itself, which is why it's so long.
This started out as Matthew's POV, but it kinda changed to Gilbert's... Haha...
When I needed a bartender, the first person who popped into my head was Rody, who knows why. But think about it. He'd look so hot in a bartender's outfit 8D
But then he didn't really fit the club scene, SO I thought "Heck, he'll have a boyfriend who owns the club."
But one of the people I dedicated this doesn't like Rodreich yaoi pairings, so I paired him with Elizabeta. She'd own a club, right? :'D
As another note, I was contemplating having Gilbert sleep with Ivan, but Ivan doesn't strike me as the one night stand kind of person. (Rather, I think he would stalk Gilbert obsessively...) So who better to sleep around than Francis? :3
Gilbert was also quite young when he met Francis, like 18 or 19. (He shouldn't be drinking yet... But... He was in Germany at the time...? :D) In this story, he's two years older than Matthew, if that helps any.

Translations:
Mein Gott - My God (German)
Enchante - Nice to meet you (French)
Oui. Je t'aime - Yes. I love you (French)
Bruder - Brother (German)

Questions, comments, complaints? Hit me up.
Honestly though, please don't bother favoriting this if you're not going to leave a review, okay? :)

(I'm sorry! That was really mean of me... But I read that in another story once, and it totally guilted me into leaving a review. So I wanted to see if it would work... :'D But seriously, reviews are much appreciated! x3)