I'm told to write Prustria more frequently. You're in luck, fanfiction readers~! This is (yet another) present for IggyIsMagic. Go wish her happy birthday or something~

Love ya, Iggypiggypuff~~~ ;D

It didn't take long for Gilbert to find out that his new neighbor could easily see into his house.

Well, good morning, sexual! The albino grinned into his bathroom mirror, dropping a wink on his reflection. Guess who's handsome today? The smirk only spread as he made muscles, pleased with the image. Gun show! What, you wanna go? Come at me, br- OH SHIT. At the interruption of his thoughts, Gilbert stopped his self-admiration, falling over backwards into his bathtub in shock. He'd forgotten one very important thing that morning- that his new neighbor, some prissy Austrian guy, had fully moved into his house immediately next door. Before, when the house was empty, he really had no need for discretion- he'd strut around his house in little more than his boxers (and often less), pridefully posing in front of every mirror he encountered. Now, just a few meters away, the man was fixing gel into his hair in his own bathroom, ignorant of Gilbert's display of self-affection. Realizing he'd just dodged a bullet there, Gilbert sighed in relief, shortly returning to his morning routines.


It didn't take Roderich long to find out that he could easily see into his new neighbor's house.

Oh my God, I look like a bag of smashed toejam. Roderich stared at his reflection in horror, pulling down his lower eyelids as he moved closer to the mirror. Ugh, what is that? He prodded at a small bump on his face. No, don't touch it! Argh, I'm touching it! DON'T TOUCH IT. He quickly drew back his hands. In pulling away, his eyes fell upon a window far too close to his. It was one of the issues with the new house he'd chosen to simply ignore for the meantime- he could just get blinds later. But, for now, it was very clear to see a white-haired young man- he'd encountered him a few times, but his name escaped him for the moment- clearly admiring himself in his own mirror. Roderich snickered, stealing a glance for a moment longer before returning to fixing himself up for the day.


It didn't take long for Gilbert to realize it could go both ways.

He wasn't exactly the best cook, so his lunches were quick fixes like ramen noodles or hot pockets. Today, he threw a bag of popcorn in the microwave and picked himself out a beer from the refrigerator. In the minutes it took for the snack to pop, he lolled his head around in boredom, lazily looking from the ceiling to his wall to his floor to the next wall… on that wall, a window was mounted- another one that led directly to the Austrian's house. He was seated at his piano, playing, of all things, a 90's Britney Spears song. Which, of course, Gilbert didn't recognize. At all. Gilbert tossed aside his questionable manliness to look a little longer. His neighbor didn't seem to notice, absorbed in his music. The German soon became engrossed as well, forgetting how blatantly he was staring. As the song ended, and the Austrian changed his sheet music, Gilbert realized what he was doing and quickly turned around to fetch his popcorn from the microwave. Seeing that the brunette through the window didn't seem to notice him, Gilbert sighed with the idea that he'd dodged another bullet.


It didn't take long for Roderich to realize it could go both ways.

Along with him moved his precious grand piano. Roderich was attached to the instrument, always drawn to sit on the bench or brush his fingers over the keyboard when he passed by. He could rarely resist playing it, and often didn't mind giving in to his desires. Today, Britney Spears' music sat on the top of his books- as it was a much-used reference that he almost didn't even need to look at anymore- and he set it in place in his stand, playing immediately. As a careful observer, he could tell when there were eyes on him. He didn't need to look up to know that these eyes were bright red and belonged to a self-proclaimed Prussian living next door. As much as he wanted to smirk, he didn't let his emotions betray his face.


That night, Roderich found out his neighbor's name.

A single ring of the doorbell was all it took for Roderich to arrive. He had to admit that he was a little excited to meet his neighbors, but he certainly wasn't going to go to all of their houses.

He stood a moment behind the door, not wanting to look too eager, before he opened the thing. He was greeted by the albino and a six pack of beer.

"Welcome to the neighborhood," he grinned stupidly. "Figured you'd want a drink or something." Not wanting to sound like he was inviting himself over, he added, "We can go to my place or…"

"It's too cold out," Roderich cut in. He could be exceptionally lazy, but he didn't care much to fix it. "You can just come in."

He shrugged. "Just as well. Oh, I'm Gilbert Beilschmidt, by the way," he introduced, thrusting one of the beers into Roderich's hands.

"I don't…" he started to say, but trailed off into mumbles. "Roderich Edelstein," he answered the introduction with one of his own. He passed the beer between his hands, as if not sure what to do with it. "Here, this way," he led Gilbert into his living room, where the young man easily made himself at home.

"Dude, no way!" he immediately slid into place at the piano's bench. "Can I play it?"

Roderich flinched a little at the stranger touching his piano, but gave a hesitant nod anyway. "A-ah, sure, just don't hurt it…" He had the impression that Gilbert's idea of "playing" the piano would be smashing the keys with his fists and forehead.

To his surprise, Gilbert played a rather mild tune. It seemed a little familiar, but annoyingly so…

"Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down-!"

Oh, that's where. "That's enough." Roderich shoved the keyboard cover back into place, causing Gilbert to pull his hands back instantly.

But of course, he was laughing uncontrollably at the same time. "I rickrolled you!"

"I know," Roderich grumbled.

"In your own home! With your own piano!"

"I'm aware."

"Ahaha, that was great! I've been waiting to pull that one for so long! I learned the notes just for that!" Gilbert continued despite Roderich's obvious aggravation.

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me." He slid his glasses up his nose with a huff.

"Relax some, Roddy," Gilbert bestowed a nickname on the Austrian. "You're in a new neighborhood, might as well fit in with us. We're like some kind of dysfunctional family." He twisted the cap off of his beer, tossing it skillfully into a wastebasket across the room, and took a swig.

Roderich stared at the drink. Cautiously, he removed his cap- placing it on the table to avoid the embarrassment of attempting the same trick- and took an infinitesimally small sip, making a face even at that.

"You don't have to drink it if you don't want to," Gilbert laughed.

"No, I'm fine," Roderich insisted. He'd finish the drink no matter how much he hated it.


Roderich went to bed that night feeling a little out of it. Alcohol wasn't something he usually had, as it had a disastrous effect on him, and very easily. Luckily, he'd only had the one bottle, so his thoughts were just a bit out of order.

In his attempts to navigate his halls, the back of his mind pestered him with images of Gilbert's face and tracks of his laugh. He waved them away at first, taking them as annoyances. But, as he looked deeper, Gilbert's eyes grew half-lidded with lust, his lips parted slightly as an invitation…

He shook his head to physically remove the image, but it persisted. He didn't want to believe it, but he was already attracted to his neighbor. There was only one thing he could do now- make Gilbert feel the same way about him.


On his next off-day from work, Roderich busied himself with making a cake. He'd always had a bit of an addiction to the sweet, so baking was a frequent activity for him. His best friend, Elizabeta, always teased him for such a 'girly' hobby, but he brushed it off- she always changed her mind when he offered her a slice.

The smell of chocolate drew Gilbert to the window, though he stood with his back to it and watched through his peripherals. It was better than anything out of any bake shop… the smell, anyway, Gilbert tried to convince himself.

Shortly, the 'ping' of the oven was heard, and Roderich trotted over to open the door. In doing so, he bent over to give Gilbert a view of his rear- though he did it subtly, so that his neighbor wouldn't know he was purposefully offering himself- and take the pan from its shelf. In seeing this, Gilbert turned just slightly to catch a better view. Still facing the cake, Roderich allowed himself a grin that faded away as soon as he spun around to move his treat to sit in the windowsill to cool off until he frosted it.

Immediately, Gilbert dropped to his kitchen floor with a small thud to avoid being seen. Roderich looked around mildly, as if he wasn't sure of the origin of the noise. Shrugging, he left to leaf around in his cabinets until he found his chocolate frosting. He set out a tray on the counter behind the window, dropped his cake on it, and began to frost the treat slowly and carefully. By this time, Gilbert's interest had been piqued again, and he sat at his kitchen table stealing frequent glances.

Oh god, frosting. Why did it have to be so sensual? If Roderich accidentally got some on his face, his tongue slipped out to glide across his lips and sweep it away. When he finished frosting the cake, he slid his tongue along each side of the knife… Gilbert found himself wondering where else he liked to put his mouth.

Spotting Gilbert's dazed look out of the corner of his eye, Roderich had one thought. Mission accomplished.


Flopping back on his bed, Roderich dialed Elizabeta's number. It always seemed that he was going to her for advice on his love life, another 'feminine' feature of his that she always teased him about.

"Hello?" she answered on the first ring.

"Expecting a call?" Roderich taunted.

"No," Elizabeta insisted immediately, rolling her eyes, though Roderich couldn't see it on the other end of the line. "I just had my phone near me. What are you calling for, anyway?"

"I have a… hypothetical situation," Roderich answered carefully.

"Really, now? What kind of hypothetical situation?" Elizabeta knew at this point that all of Roderich's hypothetical situations were real ones, though he was too prideful to admit it.

"I was just wondering if it would be too soon to feel something for somebody if you only knew them for a couple days," he replied, a bit of self-consciousness seeping into his words.

"Well, I don't believe in love at first sight, but I do know that lust at first sight happens," she responded. "Let me guess… he's probably taller than you, a little jagged, and has hidden, unexpected talents?"

"He dresses like a rock star but plays the flute," Roderich admitted miserably.

"Whether you like it or not, you will always have the strangest taste in men. Now go catch him." With that, Elizabeta hung up.

Roderich rolled over with a groan. He always got himself into these situations. After a moment, he picked the phone up again, dialing a number he had learned quickly.

"Hello?" Gilbert picked up.

"Hello, Gilbert. It's Roderich," he greeted.

"How'd you get my number?" Gilbert wanted to know.

"You're the only Beilschmidt in the phone book. It's not exactly a common surname," he reminded.

"Sooo… whatcha calling for?" Gilbert asked.

"I made a cake and I have nobody to share it with. Would you like to come over?" In his old home, Elizabeta lived next door to him, and it was her that he invited over. Now, she was towns away, and the 45-minute drive was inconvenient to make too frequently.

"Oh, hell yes! I was waiting for you to ask that! That shit smells GOOD!" Gilbert hung up, and through the open windows, Roderich could hear his trudging footsteps as he raced down his stairs and out the door.

Roderich came downstairs to see that Gilbert had already let himself in and was reaching out to take a swatch of frosting from the carefully decorated cake.

"Hey!" Roderich's voice caused Gilbert to stop in his tracks. "Wait for me to cut it, will you? That piece is yours, by the way. You probably didn't even wash your hands before you came here, and now your finger germs are all in the frosting!" he scolded, pushing Gilbert in the direction of the kitchen sink. As he muttered about bacteria and hygiene, he found his knife and cut a triangular section out of the cake, dropped it on a plate and set it on the kitchen table. There, now the infected area was quarantined.

Gilbert only snickered at Roderich's actions. He hoped it was just a food thing… he'd never be able to get his hands on this guy if he was that touchy. Sliding into his seat at the table, he quickly dug into his piece of cake.

"Does it taste as good as you'd hoped?" Roderich asked, a catlike smile on his face.

Gilbert froze for a moment, backtracking to the words in the phone conversation. Oh God, he knows I watched him! he fretted. He stared in shock for a moment, but to his surprise, Roderich only kept his amused smirk, though it was laced with something else… "You were doing all that frosting shit on purpose?" Gilbert suddenly realized.

Roderich gave a small nod, blushing slightly. Now that he thought about it, his actions were a little embarrassing…

He didn't have to wait long before he was seized by the albino in arms stronger than he'd expected. Gilbert's lips met his fiercely, and Roderich returned the kiss in submission.

"I didn't think I'd be your type," Gilbert grinned as they pulled apart.

"I have strange tastes," Roderich returned playfully.

I hope you enjoyed that, Iggy! (and everyone else that may have stumbled upon this)

No smut, I know, but I'm proud of it as it is, so this is what you get.

XOXO Maddie~

Ps. Reviews are love! I was told I have a cookie cutter, English essay-like writing style the other day, so advice for how to fix that is nice.