Title: Operation Not to Hot
Fandom: Hetalia Axis Powers
Pairing: PruCan. Spamano and Gertaly mentioned in passing.
Summary: Gilbert Beilschmidt is dorky, nerdy, and has serious confidence issues. He doesn't really care about himself until he sees Matthew Williams, AKA super-hot-hockey-jock. With Matthew's heart in mind, Gilbert undergoes a complete transformation.
Rating: T
Warnings: Swearing, innuendo, canoodling, and OOC-ness.
Word Count: 3, 943
Song: Do Ya Think I'm Sexy by Rod Stewart (I'm thinking more along the stylings of effing smexy Darren Criss. UNF).

a/n:I…I don't know where this came from. Let alone if I know if I can even write in character to Hetalia characters. Seriously. I'm so nervous I think I'm going to explode but this just wouldn't stop nanananana nagging me. –twitch-
a/n2: …I like glasses. I might be biased because I wear them (damn you, visual impaired-ness!), but I think guys wearing thick frames it hot. Also skinny jeans and bright t-shirts. *swoons*
a/n3: I do like, a hundred parenthesis rants in this fic. Woot woot! Feel free to smack me.
a/n4: link to the shoes in this fic: http : / / www. dmusastore . com/ p-3289 -1461 . aspx (remove spaces)
a/n5: if this was a M fic, Prussia would so be bottoming.

Disclaimer: Do not own Hetalia, damnit!

Gilbert wasn't the kind of guy to mope around and complain how chicks didn't dig him.

How totally unawesome would that be? Nah, he sat around and played video games. Virtual girls (and guys) appreciated his heroic efforts (which usually consisted of defending a village/spacestation/the world from monsters/aliens/nazi zombies), and Gilbert was satisfied with that.

That's basically how elementary and middle school went. Gilbert was smart so grades were never an issue. His social life lacked extremely. Not that Gilbert minded. No, he had awesome friends. Granted, he's know them since he was in diapers, so he's sort of forced to be with them.

Friend #1: Ludwig Beilschmidt. His little bruder. And yes, Ludwig (affectionately dubbed West) counts. Pushing his younger brother's buttons always managed to amuse Gilbert. He had his stern moments, but he was undoubtly always kind and just. Plus he brought home the cutest thing on two legs which brought us to…

Friend #2: Feliciano Vargas. One of the rare exceptions to the I'm-obligated-to-be-your-friend-forever-since-we-sort-of-popped-out-of-the-same-lady-slash-you-pushed-me-in-the-sand-box-plus-you're-my-cousin-friend only policy. Feliciano lived a few houses down from the Beilschmidt's with his brother Loviono Vargas and grandfather Romero Vargas (they principal of their high school. Talk about special treatment!) Basically Feliciano met Ludwig in middle school and clung to him like a baby panda. Not that Ludwig really minds, judging by the bright red flush on his face whenever Feliciano hugs his arm tightly and nuzzles his bicep. Gilbert was really just waiting for them to hookup already, because they were being totally oblivious and unawesome.

Friend #3&4: Antonio Fernandez Carriedo and Francis Bonnefoy. Together they were the Bad Friends Trio (or Bad Touch Trio, but that was mostly dominated by Francis and Antonio). They all met while they were in diapers. And even then they were wreaking havoc amongst the other children. Gilbert didn't have many classes with them now, himself taking high level course (he was a whole grade ahead of them). Antonio was hopelessly in love with Lovino Vargas while Francis was hopelessly forever loose and nude. Well, when the cops weren't knocking on his door anyway.

Yup. That was basically it for Gilbert. There was Roderich and Elizabeta, but they didn't count because a) Elizabeta wanted nothing more than to beat his face in with a frying pan (and she really wanted him to pose for her sketches) and b) Gilbert only liked Roderich for his reactions whenever Gilbert pranked him.

So Gilbert was really content with his life. Video games, family friends, and the occasional prank.

And then he entered his third year in high school.

"Who is that?" Gilbert sputters, staring at the table in the back with wide crimson eyes. He can't tear his eyes away. There's a gorgeous guy with wavy blonde hair and pretty violet eyes being crowded by meaty jocks. It's like Gilbert is looking at a flower surrounded by elephants.

Francis is busy batting his eyes at Arthur Kirkland who is standing in line waiting for his fish and chips. Arthur promptly flips him the bird and turns away. With a huge, heaving sigh, Francis looks at Gilbert. "What did you say mon ami?"

"That boy." Gilbert says almost too softly for Francis to hear. "The blonde one with glasses."

Francis doesn't even need to look to know who it is. "Ah, you mean Alfred F. Jones?"

"Is that his name?" Gilbert asks, too busy staring at the boy who suddenly just giggled at what someone said.

Antonio, who was munching on fries, shakes his head. "No, mi amigo. That's Matthew Williams. Alfred Jones is his brother."

Francis squints. "Ah, je suis désolé. Vous avez raison. Oui! Ce garçon est Matthew Williams!"

The culry haired Spainard stares at Gilbert innocently. "Why do you want to know?"

Gilbert doesn't know how to answer without sounding like a stuttering teenage girl. Which is totally uncool and not awesome, so he dips a fry into a pile of ketchup onto his plate before jamming it into his mouth. "No reason…"

Francis has a knowing twinkle in his eye, and he pats Gilberts shoulder. "Ahhh, is this l'amour? Has our friend tombré en amour?"

When a pinkish flush graces the tips of Gilbert's ears, Antonio and Francis smile at each other. Gilbert shoves another fry in his mouth and mumbles "I'm not in love!"

But it comes out more like "im nt en lurvvv!" due to the food in his mouth.

Lovino walks past their table and Antonio all but swoons, excusing himself from the table with bright emerald eyes to chase after the feisty Italian. Francis chuckles. Their day is turning out pretty average, except for, you know, Gilbert seeing the most handsome guy ever.

It's not new to anyone that Gilbert's gay. And nobody really cares. He's just one of the schools unpopular guys in huge baggy sweaters and impossibly big glasses. It doesn't help that he's albino. So with gay added onto his plate, you'd think he'd be teased more than he already was. But Gilbert was too awesome to put up with that kind of bullshit and honestly, homophobia is thankfully low-key at this school (plus, it helped that all the guys at this school were either bi, gay, in the closet, or "comfortable with their sexuality").

Also, Francis and Antonio, two of the more popular and handsome guys at school, are both flaming gays. Well, more Antonio than Francis. Francis believes love has no gender (no matter how noble it sounds, Gilbert still thinks it's a way for Francis to get in everybody's pants/skirt).

So Antonio chasing after Lovino is no news.

And girls' landing in Francis lap during lunch isn't a surprise to Gilbert. Because it always happens. These things were habits—clockwork, even; Gilbert knew they were coming.

However Francis and Gilbert are not prepared when Femke, the schools' prettiest cheerleader and the sister to Antonio's arch-enemy, Orlando, sits beside Francis. Well, basically beside Francis. It's hard to say beside him when she's practically in his lap. Gilbert watches incredulously because, really? This girl is the president of the celibacy club. And yeah, Gilbert doesn't have too many morals but even he thinks that it's a bit effed up to have her draping herself on the schools (sorry, Francis) official man-slut.

Not that Francis cares. Nope. He just coos into her ear and whispers something that has her giggling. Gilbert throws a fry at Francis, who pouts at him. "Get a room or there's more where that came from." he says.

Femke narrows her eyes, but does get off Francis' lap and pulls him up by the hand. "You're just jealous he's getting some and a nerdy little snot like you isn't." With a 'hmph', she drags a rather conflicted Francis away. But she's sashaying her hips so dramatically that Gilbert knows Francis is no longer conflicted with choosing his friend over a girl.

And Gilbert doesn't blame him. With a sigh, Gilbert pushes his meal away and in front of him. Today is totally unawesome.

But then he glances at Matthew Williams, who happens to be staring back. Suddenly flustered, Gilbert ducks his head and gets up from his seat.

So maybe today wasn't completely unawesome. He had someone to pin after, now.

And…romance is good, right?

Wrong. Completely, and utterly wrong.

It's been a couple months since Gilbert nursed a rather huge affection for Matthew Williams, and Gilbert knows a thing or two about the boy he's crushing on.

A) Matthew is French-Canadian; after bumping into him accidentally and the boy said something in French. And gosh, Gilbert hadn't stopped looking at his lips the entire time Matthew apologized (Gilbert apologized profusely as well, which wasn't like him at all, but Matthew gave him a shy smile and walked away).

B) Matthew plays hockey. And to put it in simple words, he kicks ass. Gilbert managed to sneak into one of the practices and he nearly fell right over as Matthew skated onto the rink gracefully before slamming and smacking into other players, yelling a few things in French that he was positive were expletives. And when he took his helmet off, blonde hair matted against his sweaty forehead, Gilbert had to leave because it was simply too much.

C) Matthew is in his chemistry class. Which is a surprise, because Gilbert, in grade 11, is a year above most of his peers (it's a grade 12 course afterall). He knew Matthew was his age but he didn't know he took some high level courses. And Matthew looks at him sometimes. With those big, blue-violet eyes. And sometimes Gilbert can't look away. Or he does look away—flushed and scribbling intensely into his notebook.

D) Matthew is kind. When someone drops their books, pencils, etc. he helps them pick up their things. When he bumps into someone, he apologizes. He's quiet and polite with his peers and teachers, and when a teacher's kid came in for class one time because the daycare was closed, Matthew played with them while the teacher ran to make photocopies. And damn, was it ever cute and wonderful.

In conclusion: Matthew was a kind, sexy, intelligent, athletic little French-Canadian that reduces Gilbert to unintelligible syllables, and Gilbert wanted to rut against that fine boy until the sun rose.

Yup. Teenage hormones were awesome.

One problem.

Gilbert was none of those things.

Gilbert was the guy who had a pet chick and screamed at his online video game friends through a mic. His username was Ore-sama, for goodness sake. His white, silvery hair was always messy and tangly. And not even in the attractive 'just-had-sex' kind of way. His nails were bitten off and his skin was super pale due to his albinism. Gilbert also owned unattractive glasses, the frame making his face looked closed in and a hundred times less teenager-ish. Gilbert didn't want contacts because he truly believed they were going to suck the moisture out of his eye. And that wouldn't be awesome. To add on to the pile of unredeeming qualities, he was a horrible dresser; he wore baggy sweaters, sweat pants or unattractively ripped jeans, and sometimes decent shoes. Every other day he wore beat up black loafers. In short, Gilbert was a mess.

But underneath, he was brimming with good looks.


Everyone had their inner male super model!

To win the affections (or even the attention) of a one Matthew Williams, Gilbert would need to sex himself up. Make the French-Canadian's jaw drop so much, his mouth met the ground.

Which is why he dialled a number he never hoped on dialling.

"Hello! Elizabeta Héderváry speaking!"

"I can't believe you asked me. I'm still wondering if this a dream! Oh, but if it is, don't let me wake up!" Elizabeta squees, helping Gilbert into a tight pair of gray skinny jeans. Gilbert grunts as the jeans finally cooperate and slide up his legs. There's a mirror to his right and all Gilbert can think is 'Wow. My legs are tiny…ha, but my ass is great! One point for the awesome me!' Elizabeta suddenly smacks his ass and he lets out a loud yelp.

"Stop checking yourself out. I know I pick the best clothes but honey, this is only the test pair." she clucks. She writing down something on her iPhone, and Gilbert cranes his neck to read it.

Oh, it's his measurements. Wait, she doesn't even have any measuring tape. How…?

"Oh don't look at me like that. My hands are like Francis. I could grope your legs for two minutes and know every nook and cranny."

Agh! Mental images he so did not need!

Gilbert is still wearing his sweatshirt and glasses, hair hopelessly flying everywhere. Elizabeta circles him like a hawk ready to pounce it's pray. And frankly, Gilbert is terrified. "What?" he manages to say as Elizbeta hums.

"Just thinking of what colour would match your skin tone. But you're so wonderfully pale you can wear basically any colour. Well, except white. You can't wear too much of that." She leaves the room for a moment and Gilbert hears shuffling in her bedroom. He's in the bathroom right now, inspecting the jeans curiously. Elizabeta rushed back to the bathroom holding a pair of fake glasses. "Okay lean down so I can do something."

Gilbert obliges, and he fears for his life as a creepy look passes Elizabeta's face. She swipes his glasses off and Gilbert cries out as she slaps the fake pair on. He can't see a damn thing and all he hears is a deep intake of breath from Elizabeta.

"A mindenit, te szép!" she exclaims. "Change into your sweat pants, put your glasses back on, get your wallet, and go start your car." She pushed him down the stairs while yelling 'goodbye and I'll see you guys at dinner!' to her parents. Gilbert is grabbing for his pants and shoots Elizabeta a 'what the heck' look.

"We're going shopping!" she cackles.

"Oh, mein gott." Gilbert groans.

It's well past midnight and Gilbert is lying on his bed, exhausted and texting Lizzy, Francis, and Antonio. After the shopping trip, Elizabeta squee'd and jumped and glomped Gilbert, telling him how happy she was he was 'in love' and that he could call 'big sister Lizzy' any time he needed help.

(Although he wouldn't admit it, Gilbert was really glad she helped him).

To: Gilbo

From: Franny

Sooo mon ami! How did the shopping trip go?

To: Franny

From: Gilbo

you'll see tmmrw, won't you?

To: Gilbo

From: Franny

Oooh, did she teach you how to tease while you were shopping? ;)

To: Franny
From: Gilbo

It's midnight. I'm too tired to sext you ;)

To: Gilbo

From: Franny

Mon dieu! She has transformed you! I'm so proud of you (and her).

Gilbert chuckled and finished answering Antonio's text before he rolled onto his side on his bed, flicking off his bedside lamp and resting his glasses and cellphone aside.

Hopefully, tomorrow would prove to be fruitful.

Gilbert nearly gives Francis a heart attack in the school parking lot.

"Toni, tell me I'm dreaming."

"But you're not…"

"Tell me I'm dreaming!" Francis squeaked, tugging on the thin fabric of Antonio's lime v-neck t-shirt. Antonio shakes his head and pinches Francis, hard. The French boy yelps, shooting a glare at his Spanish friend.

"You're not dreaming. It's really Gilbert."

Because, Gilbert looks fucking sexy.

He's in these super tight black skinny jeans that hug him in all the right places. He's rocking a pair of white and blue Doc Marten's, jeans easily tucked in. His torso is covered by a low white v-neck that shows off the muscle he actually has, defining his abs and upper body muscles. Overtop of that v-neck is a red, blue and black plaid shirt. The sleeves reach his elbows and the colour is dominated by red. His face—oh gosh his face; he's smirking and wearing a pair of thick frame glasses that sort of arch at the tips. His hair is actually brushed and styled, sort of spiky and sort of messy. Very Gilbert-like, somehow. It seems like Gilbert convinced Lizzy to let him wear his rubber bands. One of them is black and says 'TALK NERDY TO ME" while another is blue and says "AWESOME". They must have compromised, because a wallet chain is hanging from a belt loop, wallet in his back pocket while a checkered studded belt keeps his pants up. And anyone who knew Gilbert knows he hates belts and chains.

Gilbert grins as he catches what his friends are saying, shutting the door of his beaten up Dodge and walking towards them. When he stops in front of them, he swears Antonio is smiling proudly and Francis is ready to swipe his belt away.

(Not that it would matter. His jeans a basically plastered to his legs.)

"She's a miracle worker! Elle est une artiste!" Francis cries, trying to launch himself at Gilbert. Antonio holds him back and smiles warmly at his friend.

"You look great. You are comfortable, sí?"

Gilbert grins, does a twirl, and winks at Antonio. "Ja! You think he'll fall over from my awesomeness?" Gilbert tries to control the nervous edge in his voice. Because, really, this plan will all go to shit if Matthew doesn't even give it a glance.

Antonio laughs. "If he doesn't we'll trip him so it looks like it."

Puffing his chest out in an attempt to be manly, Gilbert pressed the button on his key and his car beeps to notify it's locked. "Let's enter the threshold, men!"

Gilbert isn't prepared for everyone's head to turn and stare. He only wanted the attention of Matthew. So to say he's overwhelmed (happily, though) is a bit of an understatement. Antonio is on his left while Francis is on his right, all three of them walking casually down the hallway. Everyone refers to them as the Bad Friends Trio. They always favoured Antonio and Francis, calling Gilbert the tag-along. But today, with everyone's eyes on him, Gilbert felt a lot more confident than he had all of his life.

Which was saying something, because Gilbert's life is pretty damn awesome. He beats nazi-zombies and faceless monsters, for crying out loud!

Femke is pressed against her locker with another boy leaning in, but she pushes him away when Gilbert goes past. She twirls her index finger in some stray hair, hips moving to one side and cheerleading skirt hiking up a couple inches.

Gilbert really loves that he's gay and doesn't go for girls like her.

It was rush, having all these girls (and some guys) staring and whispering. When he reaches his locker (conveniently beside Francis and Antonio), Gilbert pulls out his chemistry textbook and notebook. He takes a deep breath.

Francis smiles reassuringly. "Mon cher, if he does not like how you are dressed, he is blind."

Gilbet nods unsurely. He shuts his locker quickly and catches sight of Antonio giving him the thumbs up before the Spaniard chases after Lovino, who was shouting at Ludwig while Feliciano smiled obliviously.

Gilbert walks alone to his class because Francis has Home Ec. (he basically dominates over all the girls in that class. Francis can cook like a dream). When he enters, some girls giggle excitedly. Gilbert takes his usual seat that rests in the very back by the window. He's slipping his textbook under his chair when a shadow casts over him.

And holy fuck, it's Matthew Williams.

Gilbert is not mentally prepared for this. He's staring right into those violet eyes that say so much yet at the same time, so little. He's pretty sure his palms are gross and sweaty (a trait he abhors greatly) and his breath is a bit shaky. It takes all his will power not to stutter out something stupid. Everyone is staring and it's extremely unnerving. Especially since, you know, Matthew is staring so intently at Gilbert that he's starting to internally flip out.

"Are you trying to test me?" the blonde angel croaks, but Gilbert is too busy to think about what he said because this is totally awesome. That's officially the first things he has said to Gilbert, and not in a panicked, apologetic frenzy.

Gilbert snaps out of his trance. Mysterious and cool. Mysterious and cool! Yeah, follow what Lizzy told him to do! Act, cool.

Gilbert's never been cool so he thinks that advice was totally fucked and unawesome.

"Test you?" Gilbert says, all too innocently. Yeah. This is he can do. From all his flirty, playful banter with Francis and Antonio, maybe he can actually apply it to his real life! But honestly, he doesn't understand what Matthew is asking. Test him? Since when? Gilbert's hardly even interacted with him. He didn't even have the balls to attempt talking.

And suddenly Matthew is pulling Gilbert out of his seat by his hand, dragging him out the class quickly before the teacher comes in and takes attendance.

Some girls cry out miserably.

It strokes Gilbert's ego (just a bit; he's too focused on the warm soft wonderful hand in his, right now).

Matthew's leading him to a rather famous corner in their school, one famous for couples to makeout in. And Gilbert is, once more, internally flipping shit.

The hockey jock pulls him into the partial darkness of the corner, pushing him against the wall. "Oh, mon dieu, you're wearing skinny jeans."

Gilbert involuntarily looks down at himself. Matthew hadn't—oh right. He was had been sitting down when Matthew approached him.

Suddenly there's a soft, insisting pressure on his mouth and Gilbert realizes, oh. That's Matthew Effing Williams mouth on mine.

His day just reached new levels of awesome.

Gilbert's sort of frozen, hands twitching at his sides as Matthew kisses him deeply. It doesn't take too long before his hands launch up to wrap around Matthew's neck, mouth opening up and a needy sound (which he will forever deny) escaping his mouth.

He's kissing Matthew.

He's kissing the boy he's been pining after for so long.

The Canadian's tongue is twisting and curling with Gilbert's and it's not too long before Matthew's hands wander down Gilbert's chest, feeling the muscle there and groaning. Gilbert's desperately trying to anchor himself, which he finally accomplishes when he places his hand on the back of Matthew's neck, the other hand resting on Matthew's hip.

Then it's all rushing to a halt as Matthew pulls away, gasping deeply as Gilbert's hands fall away. Gilbert's not far off, gulping in air that he's denied. Gilbert dimly realizes that they're both flushed and puffy-lipped. He's too busy looking into those eyes again.

"Wow." is all Gilbert can managed to say.

Matthew nods his head. Apparently he can't speak.

Gilbert is nervous, but he wraps his arms around the Canadian and pulls him in for a tight hug. "I guess it worked."

Matthew is blinking in surprise. "Wait, what?"

Gilbert feels the tips of his ears grow hot. "My awesome outfit. I finally got your attention."

Matthew is silent before his body starts shaking and small titters of laughter are escaping his lips. Gilbert is confused as Matthew outright giggles, but doesn't care when Matthew finally reciprocates the hug. "Getting my attention?" the Canadian laughs, feeling a bit dumb.

Gilbert raises a barely existent brow. "Yes?"

The blonde is stealing a kiss before Gilbert can say anything, and then he's pulling back with a fond smile. "You caught my attention way before all this. I noticed you on the first day back to school. You're in my chemistry class, you know."

Gilbert gapes at him. So, Matthews been watching him for that long? Just like him? "O-Oh." Gilbert tries to find words, but instead he chuckles. "Wow, we're stupid. That is pretty unawesome."

Matthew nods his head, a grin gracing his face. "We'll have to make up for lost time."

Oh, he's flirting? Gilbert doesn't really know how to answer, well, seductively anyway, so he leans in for an Eskimo kiss which Matthew happily participates in. "Should I keep dressing like this?" Gilbert asks, genuinely curious.

Matthew smiles warmly. "Only if you want to. No matter what you wear, I've been liking you for you."

At this statement, Gilbert's heart is clenching up so tightly and his stomach is doing crazy flips. He really likes this boy.

So he leans in, kisses him with a delighted sigh, and thinks all the while,

I've found someone who likes me for me, and I like them for them.

CRAP ENDING. I KNOW. Review and tell me what you think? (Also, was I in character?)

Mon ami- my friend
Ah, je suis désolé. Vous avez raison. Oui! Ce garçon est Matthew Williams- Ah, I am sorry. You are right. That boy is Matthew Williams!
l'amour- love/the love
tombre en amour- fall in love
A mindenit, te szép- gosh, you're handsome!
mein gott- my god
mon dieu- my god
elle est une artiste- she is an artist
si- yes
ja- yes
mon cher- my dear

-Jankz :)