Gilbert shot up on the couch. "Ja! Blohnde hare? Likes to be grabby?" He motioned with his hands the action of groping someone's chest or butt, and grinned a ninty watt smile at Matthew. "Yoh know him?"

Mathew went completely red when he asked him. Memories of black-mail, groping, and almost losing his virginity flooded back to him. He squeezed his eyes shut, and shook the thoughts out of his head.

"He is... well, he is my neighbour." He told him. "His window is on par with mine, and, he has binoculars... I've had to invest in thick curtains." He took the maple syrup out and put it on the table, then poured the next batch.

Neigh...bour?

Gilbert stared at Matthew, red eyes widening. "He lives beside yoh..?" But Francis lived across the street and one house down from Gilbert... And there was a brown house across Matthew's house that looked oddly like the one Gilbert and Ludwig had just moved in to...

Gilbert wriggled his feet out from beneath Kumowhatevertherestofthenameis's fat body, he jumped up and ran to the window. He pulled apart the blinds and looked over through the cul-de-sac to the brown house. There in the driveway was their yellow Volkswagon. It was his house.

"Hey I live dere!" He cried. "I live dere!"

Mathew looked up in surprise.

... seriously?

Suddenly, he started to doubt this man's mental capacity.

"Really? Well, I guess thats why you ended up in the woods... " He said. He looked at "Hans", holding his plate of pancakes.

"Well, do you want to take the pancakes and go home? They're ready, but it's best to eat them hot." Mathew told him as he handed the plate to the silverette.

Go home? Gilbert stared at Matthew like he was insane. This creep was letting him go? "Yohr a preetty awehsohme sereeal keeller, yoh know dat?" He said as he took a seat on the couch again and put the plate on his lap. He grabbed the pancakes with his bare hands like before, not understanding why Matthew had placed forks and knives on the edge of the food.

"Deise ahre gut!" Gilbert said through a mouthful of pancakes. Maple syrup dripped from his fingers, making a mess on his pants and on the plate below them. "Vehry messhy dough..."

Mathew became increasingly uncomfortable with the man insisting that he was a serial killer. He didn't understand why he continued to hang around, even if he thought he was going to kill him. If Mathew was in his house, being fed food, He'd try to leave ASAP.

Mathew poured some coffee, and sat on the armrest on the other side of the couch, cradling the mug.

"It's alot less messy if you use a knife and fork." He said, studying the man tentatively.

Gilbert stared at the fork and knife resting on the edge of the plate. His fingers were sticky with the thick substance that coated the pancakes. "But... den I vould noht fill my mouf eenough..." Why have to take longer to eat and not be able to put more in there just to be polite? Who was going to care? The dog?

Gilbert glared at the animal. It stared at him curiously. Damn human loving mutt. Always jumping up on things and getting their hair everywhere...

Suddenly a ringing echoed in the room. It came from a small phone sitting on the wall. Gilbert stared at it, white brows raised.

"Oh, shoot. Hold on, I'll be right back." Mathew told him as he went to see who was phoning on the call display.

BONNEFOY F

He looked at "Hans", then looked back at the phone, and picked up the call he would usually ignore. Seriously, Francis really abused the number Mathew gave him while drunk.

"Hi, Francis?" Mathew asked into the reciever.

Gilbert glanced over when he heard that name. Francis? It was Francis! "Let me have eet!" Gilbert cried, all but leaping off the couch to snatch the phone. He stumbled over his own feet, too clumsy to have noticed that the blanket he had wrapped around him this entire time was now attacking his feet.

He managed to catch his balance by grabbing the couch. Unfortunately, his hand landed on Kumo's butt. Something the dog obviously did not enjoy. Only Francis would, to think about it. That was the thought that passed through Gilbert's mind as he was attacked by the white fluff of an animal. He shrieked and raced behind Matthew, all but throwing the blonde out to shield himself. "Eat him! Eat him! He's fahtter dan me!"

Mathew dropped the phone in surprise, with Kumamomoji jumping on him, turning friendly all of a sudden. The phone bounced up and down on the cord.

"'Allo? Mathieu? Are you zere?" He could hear Francis saying on the other side. Mathew grabbed the hone and spoke.

"Yes, i am here, Francis. I have a friend here who wants to talk." He said, giving the phone to "Hans."

"Frahncis!" Gilbert exclaimed as he was handed the phone. He shot Kumablahblahblah a dirty look when the dog was all sweet and perfect with his master, completely opposite of how he acted with Gilbert. "Eet's me, Gilbert! I'm vid Madew!"

Francis seemed surprised. "Geelbert? Iz zat you? Why are you wiz Mathieu?"

"He vanted to keell me in de voods! Vy vas I dere in de fihrst place? Noh, vait! Yoh have to save me! I don't vant to die een here! He--" Gilbert glanced at Matthew, who was staring at him with large, unbelieve able eyes. Gilbert cupped his mouth and hissed into the phone as quietly as he could, trying to not let Matthew hear. "I dink he vants to rahpe me, but I'm gohing to--"

He was cut off by a loud burst of laughter from the other end of the phone. Gilbert pulled it away from his ear, wincing, and glared at it.

"Gilbert? ... I thought you were Hans." He said, completely giving up reasoning with him whether he was a killer or not.

He.. was lied to. Mathew does a lot of things many would consider as "Bad", but lying was never one of them. He looked down, in disbelief, and walked over to where the rest of the pancake was, and started wrapping it up. He wondered if he was going to start crying, or not.

Gilbert, quickly seeing the sudden moisture in the blonde's eyes, didn't bother saying good-bye to Francis, who was still laughing his ass off (arschloch), and hung up the phone. Damn, he thought he could keep his name a secret from this killer!

Really, was Matthew murder material? Gilbert's gaze combed the man before him as he gathered up the pancake's remains. He made Gilbert food and he even let him use the phone. Not like he had much choice in either of those things though... Regardless, he didn't seem all that harmful. If Francis knew him he had to be safe.

Oh, who was he kidding? Francis having safe friends? The guy would be best buddies with KKK members if they gave him the right amount of women and wine. Antionio was just as bad! Only, he would realize the fact the men were KKK members. That guy was so stupid sometimes...

"Eet... eet eez," Gilbert tried to pick up the lie and continue it but he swore the wetness in Matthew's orbs grew thicker. "Ohkay, noh! My name eez Gilbert. I dought you vere a keeller, ohkay? I deedn't know vere I vas! Cahn yoh blame me?"

Mathew handed him the rest of the left-over pancakes, and wiped at his eyes. Damn.

"No, I guess not." Pull yourself together, Mathew.
He smiled at Gilbert. "I think Gilbert is a much nicer name." And he opened the front door.

"... You want to go home, now, eh?" Honestly, Mathew. Why did you insist keeping him around for so long? It was selfish.
Are you really so lonely as to pick up a guy in the woods?

Gilbert hesitated at the doorway. He stared at Matthew, trying to see whether or not the blonde was truly wanting him to leave or not. Seeing as how the door was open, and Matthew's eyes were staring straight at him, he was a little unnerved. The albino bobbed his head a bit, shuffling out of the house. He kept glancing over his shoulder, as if checking if Matthew was going to attack him.

"Hey!" He suddenly called, half-way down the front lawn. Matthew had almost gotten the door closed when Gilbert's voice reached his ears. "Cahn I cohme ahnd have sohme pahncakes tomorrow? Eef yoh dohn't mind..."

Mathew looked up in surprise when he asked him that. He felt this... thing in his chest that couldn't keep him from smiling.

"Of course!" He beamed at Gilbert. Mathew couldn't remember the last time when he was remembered like that. He couldn't remember the last time he wasn't the one who made the plans instead of the other way around.

Gilbert grinned, like a kid on Christmas morning. "Gut! Ahnd I expecht dere to be a loht!" With those being his final words, the albino turned and all but skipped across the cul-de-sac to the brown house. He paused in the driveway, peering into the Volkswagon's driver window. Yep, there was his two day old water bottle sitting in the cup holder and the dorky cross Ludwig hung on the rear-view mirror.

"Hey, West!" Gilbert kicked open the front door, shoe creating a foot-print on the wooden oak. "Guess what happened to me today!"

From within the kitchen a familiar head of slicked blonde hair and tired blue eyes peered out. "Brother..?" Another voice. Higher. More accented. "Ve~ Eez Geelbert here?"

Gilbert all but beamed. "Feli! Yoh're here!"

The rest of the day consisted of reminising with the tiny Italian, and bugging the crap out of Ludwig. When night-time came around and Gilbert cracked open a beer, that was what Ludwig suddenly remembered the first thing his brother said to him when he came home that day. "Gilbert, what were you saying earlier? Something about how I'll never guess what you did..?"

The older albino brother paused in taking a sip of his beverage. His mind rewound itself, trying to think of the moment he said such words. "Oh! Yeah, so, I woke up this morning in a forest and I was attacked by this killer dog, and out of nowhere this blonde kid with pancakes appeared and let me come to his house! Turns out he lives across the street! I'm gonna go over there tomorrow and have some free breakfast. Cool, huh?"

Ludwig simply stared and wondered how the hell he was related to such a man.

Mathew watched as Gilbert walked away, looking into the window of the Volkswagen as he passed. After he saw Gilbert enter the house, he turned around and wandered into the house, and took a look at Kumablablabla.
"...I still haven't taken you out for a good walk yet, have I?" HE sighed, before taking him for a walk all around the trails.

Mathew continued his day as he always did. After the walk, he went to Tims, then went to work at the house of Pancakes.

As he walked into the restaurant, his boss immediately thought he was his brother.
"OI! ALFRED JONES YOUR TAB IS WAY OVERDUE!" The cuban yelled at Mathew.
Mathew jumped in surprise. "It's not Al, Ismael..." He told him for the millionth time.
Mathew's job as a dish-washer went slowly as usual, and he walked home after as usual, and caught the hockey game, as usual.

(( LOL, IHOP! Perfect! ))

When morning came around, Gilbert woke almost right after Ludwig did. He could hear his brother's alarm clock going off through the thin walls of their new house. Gilbert muttered and swore to himself about how much he hated the fact Ludwig worked so early in the morning.

Then he remembered the events of yesterday and the albino leaped out of bed. He was wearing just a simple pair of pheonix designed boxers and his hair was sticking out all over the place. He hopped around his bedroom, searching through the piles of unpacked clothes for something good to wear.

"What do you think, Gilbird?" He asked, glancing up and over at a small box. Laying in it, among a pile of straw and under a heating lamp, was a white egg. Soon a chicken would be born. No, a chick. And he would be the most awesome thing in the world. Gilbert saved the egg years ago when they were checking out a Lilydale factory. Nobody knew he snatched it up. Not until he got home and yelled at Ludwig for bumping his side by accident.

Now that was a big argument.

Gilbert found a somewhat tighter than normal long sleeved shirt and threw it on. After changing his boxers into new ones and slipping on a pair of black jeans, he ran downstairs to the bathroom to wash up. Ludwig was just about dragging his ass into the washroom when Gilbert cut in front and shoved the blonde away.

"Gilbert!" His brother roared.

The albino simply cackled to himself as he took his time brushing his teeth and combing his hair. He slicked it back, staring at his reflection. Normal or gelled? Normal... or gelled? He wanted to look good for Matthew. The kid was cute. And he cooked really, really damn tasty pancakes. Maybe Gilbert should make him some awesome sausages one day.

Gilbert left the bathroom with his hair all nicely done up. In rage, Ludwig grabbed his brother around the neck and as they screamed and yelled at each other in German, not using very nice words. Ludwig shoved his hand through Gilbert's hair, messing it up.

Gilbert left his house hollaring at his brother for being an asshole and stalked across the road. Now his hair was all messy and normal and gelly. He was going to kill his baby sibling as soon as he saw him again.

Marching up the front steps of Matthew's house, he knocked hard on the front door and waited for an answer.

Mathew was having a wonderful dream. A wonderful, gay dream.

In his dream, He and ismael, were getting deliciously intemate... Ismael kissed his chest, and held him in his arms. Mathew moaned in delight, before crying in alarm. He kept going farther and farther, and Mathe didn't want any more. Tears drained from his eyes, before the door was all but literally kicked down, and a flurry of white took down Ismael.
"Kumajiji?" He asked, but it was not the dog. No, because the white stood up, and stared at him with red eyes.
"... Gilbert?" The figure nodded and smiled at him.

kesesesese.

Mathew woke with a start when he heard the knocking on the door. Who on earth was up at this hour? Then he remembered the promise from yesterday. Then he remembered the dream.

... right.

He stumbled out of bed and down the stairs to greet the white haired man of his dreams.
"Hullo." He mumbled as he opened the door.

"Yohr noht even up yeht! Vy?" Gilbert complained, entering the house without so much as asking for permission. He kicked off his sneakers and placed his hands on his hips. The house was as normal as ever. But it wasn't that early! Matthew should have been wearing an apron with his hair tied up and drinking out of a glass of wine like Francis by now.

The kid looked kinda French now that the albino stopped to stare. Actually... He looked like a weird hybred of Francis and the annoying American at the video store, Alfred...

Creepy. Very creepy.

He looked at the man staring at him. ...What is going on?
Mathew wiped his face just in case.
"What are you staring at? It's 8 in the fricking morning on a sunday! Did You work a full day washing dishes? Did you have to take your dog for a second walk? Did your parents decide that it would be a fine time to get high at 1 in the morning, laughing so loud, not even a narcoleptc could fall asleep in this house? Did your obnoxious brother roll in to your room, JUST as you're falling asleep, piss drunk, telling you that you need more friends?" He demanded softly. He shook in a quiet fury before sighing and stepped back, letting Gilbert into the house completely.

"...Sorry." He offered, as he picked up a hair-tie, and pulled back his hair into a tiny ponytail, lettin some strands fall loose.
"I'll get started."

Gilbert's eyebrows shot up so high on his forehead they disappeared into his white bangs, vanishing with the fair strands that fell over his top half of his head. So the kid did have some balls. And pretty damn hard ones too. The only problem was his voice. If he just spoke up a little more...

"Ohkay, ohkay." The albino raised his hands in mock surrender as he followed Matthew into the kitchen. "I'm sohree fohr coming over soh early. But, een my defehnce, I did say I vould be here in de morhning."

Even as the words left his mouth Gilbert knew they weren't exactly true. Had he stated such a fact? He tried to remember. If his memory was correct, he only said the word 'tomorrow'. No specific time. Still, now that he'd said such a thing, he couldn't take it back. He'd just have to hope the blonde didn't notice the slip up. And even if he did, Gilbert always won arguments.

Unless they were with that frying-pan bitch. That was a different story.

Mathew shrugged, not sure if Gilbert had said "Tommorrow" or "in the morning".

He sifted the flour into a large bowl.

"You really should have called first. I at least wouldn't be walking around in my t-shirt and pajama pants." He frowned, cracking an egg and mixing it into the milk. "How much are you going to eat today? "

Gilbert eyed Matthew's attire. Oh. Well it's not like the blonde didn't look good. A t-shirt so thin it was partly transparent with the lights of the kitchen shining through it, showing the shadowed curves of the other man's figure. And a pair of pants with little teddy bears on them that rode slightly lower than normal. Probably from Matthew rolling around in his sleep. Gilbert eyed the man's legs. They were thin but slender at the same time. Very nice.

Gilbert settled himself down at the kitchen table and leaned back in his seat, kicking his shoes off without a care about making noise. "I dohn't knoh yohr number, ahnd how mahny eez de nohrmal amount?"