A/N: My first chaptered fic on here andit's a PruAme! I'm indeed excited about his – I have big plans for Prussia and America in this one. I've always thought they'd make the most (and pardon my terminology here) awesome couple. Am I right? Well, let's get this (*cough*awesome*cough*) show on the road, shall we?

Gilbert Beilschmidt couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement upon seeing the new apartment building he was to be moving into. However, this excitement was accompanied by a fair amount of apprehension, for no matter how awesome this building already looked, he had no idea what his new roommate would be like.

Yes, his new roommate. As much as he would have liked to be able to walk around all day in his boxers or have his own bathroom, he really didn't want to be responsible for paying an entire month's rent for one of these posh living spaces. Well, maybe not "posh," exactly, but anything could be considered posh after living in his brother's basement.

So, he thought, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have a roommate, compared to living in a basement. And with his luck, he reasoned, he'd probably get an awesome roommate! Just not as awesome as him, of course. Definitely not as awesome as him, considering that that level of awesome was impossible to achieve. Unless you were Gilbert Beilschmidt, which he was sure his roommate wasn't, 'cause, you know, he was Gilbert Beilschmidt.

With these thoughts, Gilbert strolled into the building, the small number of possessions he had rolling behind him in a suitcase and hanging from his shoulder in a duffel bag. Gilbird sat nesting in his silver hair, though the pale man was unaware of the small bird's presence. He strolled forward to the front desk, behind which a man with slightly curly, longish, dark brown hair sat, a large number of cats sitting on and around him. For a second Prussia's steps slowed in trepidation, but he shrugged it off and advanced anyway upon the cat-laden doorman.

As Gilbert approached, the man gave no sign of acknowledging his (awesome) presence – an action that the German just couldn't comprehend. He stood in front of the doorman for a good three seconds before getting impatient – and realizing that the man was sleeping. Gilbert slammed his hand forcefully atop the small silver bell perched on the counter, the tiny contraption producing an incredibly loud ring that resonated throughout the spacious lobby. Jolting awake from his sleep; the cats around him frozen in fear, the man's olive eyes rolled lazily in their sockets to rest on the ruby-eyed man before him.

"Can I help you?" the man drawled, sounding exhausted. His accent indicated that he was Grecian.

"Ja. I'm moving into room thirty-one C, and I need to pick up my key." Prussia responded, his brows slightly dipped as he analyzed the man behind the front desk.

"Ah, Mr. Beilschmidt... You are to be Alfred's new roommate, hm? I wonder how that will work out…" The man rummaged sedately through a drawer, and soon his hand came up holding a key engraved with Gilbert's new apartment's numbers.

"Alfred, hm? Do you know what he's like, uh… Mister…?" Prussia trailed off, not knowing the sleepy brunette's name.

"Heracles Karpusi… Oh, and there are no pets allowed here, so you might want to find another home for your bird." Heracles intoned quietly before resting his head on his folded arms, a cat climbing into his lap.

"My… Bird?" Gilbert looked around wildly, causing Gilbird to chatter nervously. "Gott verdammt! Gilbird, I didn't say you could come! Go back to Luddy's house! Shoo, shoo!" The yellow bird, offended, fluttered out the open window. "Sorry about that, but uh, you know you got about four hundred cats all around you, right?" he asked Heracles, who didn't answer. Apparently the man had nodded off again.

Gilbert sighed, half with amusement and half with bewilderment as he made his way towards the elevator. He figured Gilbird would find him somehow and he could hide him in the apartment if need be, so his concern wasn't really focused on his avian companion. The thing that kept repeating in his mind was his roommate's supposed name as he boarded the elevator.

'Alfred. Alfred, huh? Pshh, sounds lame.' Gilbert mused, chuckling, about to press the button that would take him to the third floor. All of a sudden, a tall man sprinted into the building, bursting through the glass front doors and bolting in the direction of the elevator. The metal doors began to slide closed, and Gilbert, feeling awesome, decided to help the stranger out and stuck out his foot to prevent the doors from closing. As they slid smoothly back open, the stranger grinned.

"Thanks, man! Thought I was gonna miss that one," the man huffed out brightly, standing next to Gilbert, glancing at his carryon, "Whoa, dude, you new here? Looks like you're moving in, huh?"

"Ja, I am. You seemed to be in one hell of a hurry." Gilbert noticed, figuring that this stranger seemed kind enough and it wouldn't hurt to make a good first impression. The blonde smiled larger (if that was possible) and laughed.

"Oh yeah, I am. Supposed to be meeting my new roommate in like, three minutes to welcome him in and give him a tour and junk." The man explained, adjusting his glasses as they had been thrown askew in his effort to make it to the elevator.

"Oh, really? That's a freaking weird-ass coincidence, considering I'm going to meet a new roommate. Do you know someone named Alfred?" Gilbert asked, turning to regard the blonde man, azure blue eyes shining behind his glasses. He was wearing what looked to be a bomber jacket of some kind, little patches adorning it here and there, giving it an air of authenticity.

"Dude! That's me, bro! Ahaha, it's nice to meet ya, new roommate. My name's Alfred F. Jones. And yours?" the tall, cheerful blonde exclaimed, thrusting his hand out. Gilbert gripped it and shook it firmly.

"The name's Gilbert Beilschmidt. I would tell you not to forget it, but no one ever does anyway." Gilbert responded with his trademark smirk accompanied by a wink.

"Dude, sounds so German! That's awesome!" Alfred responded, grinning.

"I agree!" Gilbert responded raucously, smirking like the fiend he was. Alfred guffawed at this, finding the German to be quite amusing.

'This guy might not be lame after all.' Gilbert supposed, regarding Alfred carefully; unbeknownst to the blonde. His eyes trailed up and down the attractive male. He was tall and wiry with golden blonde hair that seemed to be placed deliberately, aside from one rebellious lock at the very front of the man's head. Dressed casually in jeans, his bomber jacket, and a graphic tee, he was definitely in shape – and what seemed to be a permanent state of good humor.

'On second thought…. Definitely not lame.' Gilbert amended.

A/N: So, did you enjoy it? Tell me what you think in a review, I would greatly appreciate it! And how could anyone resist reviewing a story about this awesome rare pair? (And please pardon my sheer overuse of the word "awesome" in this chapter, and undoubtedly in the rest to come.)