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juliussneezerfics · 5 years ago

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Seborga: One-Time Party Planner

No problemo, dude! Prompts are prompts, no matter who they’re from! Unfortunately, I had a limited amount of time to write this fic before midnight tonight, so I couldn’t take you up on that challenge. It’s also a lot longer than I thought! But whatever. Hope you enjoy!

Ao3

With his brothers' birthday coming up, Seborga wants to plan the ultimate surprise party for them. He then realizes he may be a little in over his head and enlists the help of some friends.

***********

Seborga’s feet slapped the tiles of his kitchen as he cooked. It was about lunch time and he was making something light to eat. Something light to eat that wasn’t a salad, anyway. He was unable to understand how his brothers ate salads regularly. On an ordinary day, he would be singing to himself and shuffling across the tiled floor. Today, however, his mind was occupied. His

brothers’ birthday was about a month from that day and he was figuring out logistics. He finished his sandwich and carried it into the living room. His coffee table was strewn with assorted papers detailing guests and things he still needed to do to have the party set up within a month.

He knew that he had a month to get it all done. To conduct a surprise party with this many guests was already difficult, but Seborga knew that on the day of their birthday he would be invited over to spend the day with them. Birthdays in their family was all about family and spending time together. But, Italy liked to consider the world his family, right? Surely the two wouldn't be too mad at a surprise party.

He scanned the guest list, chewing a bite of his sandwich. The first few guests were obvious, but how big should the party be? Of course, whenever Seborga did anything, he did it with style. The invitations list ended up being a page and a half long. Perhaps he was guilty of inviting a couple of his own friends, but of course planning a surprise party of this magnitude earned its own reward. Seborga wouldn't say he dreaded this part, but he knew that the start of planning the party, all the work, all the well-meaning deceit would start with the first phone call. Steeling his reserve, he started with the top of the list.

“Sebby!” Spain’s voice greeted, tinny over the phone speaker. “How great of you to call! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Well, as you know Feliciano and Lovino have an upcoming birthday-”

“On the seventeenth!” Spain interrupted. “I was just about to call you, actually! I wanted to take you three out to lunch to celebrate your brothers’ birthday.”

Seborga smiled. “Aww, Toni, that’s so kind of you! Actually, I was just about to invite you to a surprise party.”

“Ooh, seriously?” Spain sounded excited by the very prospect. “When?”

“I was thinking this evening.”

“Oh, so you won’t be able to make it for lunch.” Spain realized.

Seborga’s smile widened as he got an idea. “Actually, hang on. Can you occupy Feli and Lovi while we set up the party?”

“Of course! Hey, if you want you can host it at my house that way you three don't have to worry about cleaning up after the party.”

“Oh, that’s actually perfect!” Seborga was touched by Spain’s generosity. “Thank you so much, Toni!”

“No problem. So, how about I go over to pick them up around eleven. You can be sick or something so you can set up for the party at my house. When do I take them back to my house?”

“Um…” Seborga hadn’t thought that far. “Maybe around five thirty?”

"Sounds good. You can have everyone park behind the house that way they don't see all the cars before they head inside."

"Won't that mess up your lawn?"

"Eh." Spain said flippantly. "Grass is grass. It all grows back."

“I suppose so. Antonio, I can’t thank you enough for this.”

“Oh, anything for family!” Spain responded. “I’ll see you on the seventeenth!”

“See you then! Thanks, Toni! Oh, could you also invite…” Seborga leaned forward and went down his list. “France and Portugal?”

“Sure! Goodbye!”

“Bye!”

Seborga hanged up the phone, a weight lifted off his shoulders as he thought about what this meant for the setup of the party. Six and a half hours to set up. That would be fine, right? Then he happened to catch a glance of the guest list. How was he supposed to cook for all those people and decorate Spain’s house for the party? He would find a way. He had to. He leaned forward and crossed out Spain’s, France’s, and Prussia’s names. Okay. That was fine. Everyone he invited so far seemed to have good relationships with each other. Nothing to worry about. He hated to not invite certain people based on political circumstances and relationships between each other, but it was more important to have a friendly party than have a couple extra guests. Next on the list was Germany.

“Hello, Sebatian.” Germany’s curt voice greeted.

“Hi, Germany!” Seborga began. “Listen. I’m having a birthday party for my brothers on the seventeenth of March and I was wondering if that would work for you!”

“Of course. What time is it?”

“Five thirty at Spain’s house.”

“I can make it.” Germany said after a slight pause where he was likely checking his calendar. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Oh! Um…” Seborga hadn’t been expecting offers of help. “Actually, would you mind coming over a few hours early and helping me decorate? I’m sorry, I normally wouldn’t ask, but it’s just a lot for one person to do.”

“I’ll be over at two.” Germany answered.

“Wonderful! I can’t thank you enough, Germany.”

“No problem. I’m happy to help.”

Seborga smiled. Despite the joyful words Germany said, his words sounded monotone, as per his cadence of speaking. “Would you mind also inviting your brother, Liechtenstein, Switzerland, Austria, Hungary, and Russia and his siblings?”

"Hold on, would you mind repeating that? I have to write that down."

"Of course." Seborga laughed. "Sorry, I suppose that's a lot to remember." He slowly repeated the list.

“I can invite all of them, but I’m not exactly close to Russia and his family.” Germany said apologetically.

“But Hungary hangs out with Ukraine, right? So maybe she can make that happen?”

“I’ll ask her and see what she does.”

Seborga grinned. “Thank you so much! Could you also invite Japan, and tell him to invite his siblings?”

“If you want. I’ll also have Prussia come early with me. Japan will want to be there to help too, I’m sure.”

“Germany, you’re fantastic! My brother’s a lucky man!”

Germany cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Yes, thank you. I’ll see you the night of the seventeenth.”

“See you then! Thank you!”

“You’re welcome. Goodbye.”

“Bye!”

Seborga hung up and smiled. He had a couple more calls to make, but everything was coming together. A weight lifted off his shoulders knowing that he was putting together a little committee. Suddenly, the prospect of planning the party seemed less like a chore and more like an opportunity.

The morning of the seventeenth, Seborga strode up to Italy and Romano’s house, coming in without ringing the doorbell. “Feliciano, Lovino, I’m here!”

From the distance, he could hear the sound of feet slapping the floor as Italy bolted down the hall and out into the foyer. “Seb!” He launched forward and wrapped up Seborga in a hug. “We’re so excited to see you!”

“I’m excited to see you guys, too. Happy birthday, Feli!” Seborga returned the hug.

Romano came into the foyer, holding a mug of steaming coffee, his mouth pulled into a relaxed smile. “Hi, Seb.”

“Hey, Lovino! Happy birthday!”

“Thanks.” Lovino came forward and hugged Seborga, not staying quite as long as Italy had. “How the hell are you?”

“Good, except for I think I’m coming down with something." Seborga couldn't help being nervous. He has always been a lousy liar.

“You are?! You think you could have told us before we hugged you!” Lovino exclaimed.

Italy frowned. “What makes you say that?”

“Bit of a fever. Little tired, back of my throat is sore, that kind of thing.”

“Oh, will you miss lunch?” Feliciano asked, concerned.

“May as well be safe. Don't want Toni to get sick.” Seborga said.

Lovino nodded, though he didn't appear to be delighted that Seborga was staying behind. “May as well. You look dead on your feet, Sebastian, did you get any sleep last night?”

Seborga had been up all night cooking the day before. He had gotten about half of it done, but there was still a lot to do. Not to mention delivering it all to Spain’s house in the dead of night. “No.”

“Well, you can sleep here.” Lovino said. “You can sleep in the guest room. We put fresh sheets there.”

“I put fresh sheets there.” Feliciano corrected. “We should probably stay back with Seb. We can’t leave him alone!”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous.” Seborga said, waving a hand dismissively as he toed off his shoes. “It’s your guys’ birthday! You should at least celebrate it. I’ll take a nap, I’ll probably be feeling better by the time you guys get back.”

“Are you sure?” Italy asked.

“Absolutely. You guys go enjoy your lunch!”

Lovino frowned. “It would be pretty rude to cancel on Spain this late in the game.”

“You guys have fun, I’ll be napping.” Seborga ruffled their hair as they passed, Feliciano frowning at the action. Romano scowled, but kept his mouth shut as he passed.

“We’ll have our phones on us. Text if you need anything!” Feliciano said.

“Will do.”

Almost as if on cue, someone knocked on the door.

Spain let himself in. “Hola! Happy birthday, boys!”

“Hi, Toni!” Feliciano greeted.

“Hi,” Romano greeted as Spain bent down to kiss his fiancé’s cheek.

Spain pulled away, his brow furrowed as he pushed his hands into his jean pockets. “Is something wrong, Lovi?”

“Seb has a cold and he can’t go to lunch.”

“Aww, really?” Spain stepped forward and pulled his right hand out of his pocket, slapping it against Seb’s outreached hand. “Sorry, Seb.”

Seb returned the handshake, blinking as he registered something small and metal being pushed into his hand. As Spain pulled his hand away, Seborga put his clenched hand into his pocket, smiling. He hoped his shock didn't register too prominently on his face. “It’s okay. It happens.”

“Get plenty of sleep, drink some fluids. I hope you feel better soon!” Spain said. His back turned to Italy and Romano, he subtly winked at Seborga.

Seborga nodded. “I will. You guys have fun!”

“We will!” Italy said.

Romano pulled on his jacket. “Take care of yourself. Of course you had to get sick on our birthday, bastard.” Despite his words, Romano's words were laden with pity.

“Sorry, Lovi.” Sebastian apologized. He knew that it was just part of the surprise, but he couldn’t help but feel guilty.

“Don’t worry about it.” Romano zipped up his jacket. “Just get better. We don’t like it when you don’t feel good.”

“I’ll be fine. You guys better get out of here, or the restaurants are going to close before you even get lunch.”

“Okay. Bye, Sebby!” Italy waved, opening the door.

The three exchanged a few more goodbyes before they finally left. Seborga waited until he could hear the car leaving the driveway before he sprung up from the couch and pulled the key Spain had given him out of his pocket. He cringed. It was a good thing he hadn't made it upstairs before Spain had arrived. He'd forgotten all about the fact that Spain's door would be locked! He pulled on his leather jacket and fished his keys out of his pocket. “Okay. I have to hurry. Gotta’ cook, have to decorate, and Germany and the others will be at Spain’s in a couple hours.” He pushed open the front door and strode over to his motorcycle, pulling his helmet on. It was a short drive to Spain’s house, but regardless he couldn’t seem to get over there quickly enough. He hurriedly parked in front of the garage and unlocked the door. He then pushed through a few doors until he got to the garage and found the button to open the garage door. He ducked under the still-opening door and kicked up the kickstand to his motorcycle, pushing it into the garage. He then shut it and, pulling off his jacket, threw it onto the couch. He knew that in the kitchen fridge he would find several pasta dishes, a lasagna, salad ingredients, and a few beginnings to a cake he was making. Something light and delicate, with a coffee flavor. Enough to satiate Italy’s sweet tooth while also catering to Romano’s love of a balanced dessert. It would be difficult to navigate Spain’s kitchen, but he had plenty of time to figure out where everything was.

He had only been cooking for a couple hours when someone rang the doorbell. Seborga peeked over to the clock over the stove. Whoever it was, they were half an hour early. He rinsed his hands of flour and dried them on a towel as he hurried to the door to let whoever it was in. He opened the door. “Oh, Germany and Prussia! Thank you two so much for coming!”

Prussia was donned in a T-shirt that featured a crowd of chicks that read: ‘hanging with my peeps’ and a pair of black jeans paired with a pair of red converse. He grinned at Seborga. “We’re super excited to help. This will be the awesomest party in the world! Especially with me decorating.”

Germany was, of course, dressed far more reservedly in a pale blue button down shirt and navy blue work slacks. “We brought some beer and wine just in case. It’s in the trunk of my car, so we can get that whenever you want it in here.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet!” Seborga said. “We can actually bring it in now so it can get chilled before the guests arrive.”

The three stepped off the porch as Germany popped the trunk of his car.

“You look so formal, Germany, where’s your party outfit?” Seborga asked.

“I’m wearing it.” Germany answered, a slight smile on the corners of his lips. “My pants are blue. Not black.”

“Ooh, crazy!” Prussia joked. “I tried to get him to wear a party hat, but he refused.”

Germany opened up his trunk, revealing enough boxes of beer and wine to satisfy all the guests to the party. “Here we are.”

“Holy hell!” Seborga laughed. “How did you fit all this in your trunk?”

“Not just that.” Prussia rounded the back of the car with an impish grin and opened the back door of the car. “We have some in the back seat, too! Enough to get everyone hammered!”

“You guys are the best!” Seborga high-fived Prussia with a smile.

“You say that now.” Germany reached own and pulled out a case of beer without an issue. “We still have to take it all in.”

After they got all the drinks inside, Seborga straightened and clapped his hands once together.

Germany too straightened and flexed his hands to bring feeling back into them after bringing in so many boxes.

Prussia too stood up straight, a hand coming up to the small of his back as he grunted. “Ow.”

“Right!” Seborga took a look at the alcohol in the kitchen. “I’ll find some coolers and put the beers up. Germany and Prussia, Spain said he should have some decorations in several bags in the living room. You two go on ahead and start setting those up!”

Germany nodded, pleased to have a duty, and left.

Prussia waited until Germany was barely out of earshot. “Don’t be fooled by his cheerful disposition. He’s excited to be here helping out.”

“No, I know.” Seborga responded. “That’s just how he is.”

“I guess he’s just nervous.” Prussia said, a knowing smile on his face.

“Nervous about what? It’s just a party with people he knows. No big deal!”

For a moment, Seborga could recognize the tiniest flicker in Prussia’s eyes. A flicker of fear. A flicker that he realized he had said too much.

Prussia’s winning smile widened until it stretched awkwardly over his teeth. “Ah, you know him. Just so socially awkward. I bet he just wants things to be perfect for his boyfriend.”

Seborga mentally filed away Prussia’s reaction, but decided to leave it be. Prussia looked uncomfortable as it is. “As if you can tease Germany for wanting things to be perfect. Remember Canada’s birthday?”

“Eh, it’s whatever.” Prussia’s pale ears flushed pink, followed quickly by his cheeks and neck.

“The photos were really sweet!” Seborga teased, poking a finger into his ribs.

Prussia laughed, stepping away. “Ow! Hey!”

“Go help your brother. We’re going to be out of time before we know it.”

The doorbell rang, the two distracted by the noise.

Seborga smiled. “That has to be Japan! Go on in to help Germany.” He started to make his way toward the door.

“Sure! Little warning, France said he would show up a bit early to help out.” Prussia called to Seborga’s back.

“I’m glad!” Seborga responded as he reached forward to grab the doorknob. “We need the extra help!” He pulled open the door, confronted with the sight of Japan. “Good afternoon, Japan!”

“Hello.” Japan said with a polite smile. He bent at the waist. “Thank you for inviting me.”

Seborga too bowed. “Thank you for coming over early to help!”

“Of course.” Japan straightened. “I brought a gift for Italy and Romano, as well as a bottle of Saki.” Japan gestured toward a basket hanging on his arm.

“Aww, that’s so sweet! Here, let me get that for you!” Seborga reached forward and accepted the basket from Japan. “Come in, come in! Germany and Prussia are already here to help hang up decorations.”

“Thank you. Is there any way I can help you?”

“Nope, but thank you!” Seborga answered.

Japan stepped inside. “Then I will help Germany and Prussia with decorations.”

“Thank you!” Seborga said as Japan made his way to the living room. After Seborga had strode to the kitchen, he opened the basket and looked mournfully inside. “What am I supposed to do with all this booze?”

The rest of the day went by in a similar fashion, with Seborga baking and periodically interrupting his progress to answer the door. France first arrived early, followed by Hungary and Austria, and even Canada and America. The decorating got done sooner than Seborga had expected, and soon there was nothing more inside to be done. Seborga pulled the final layer of the cake out of the oven and glanced at the clock over the stove. Only two hours. That would be cutting it close for sure on the cake. He glanced outside into the back yard. Shit, he had forgotten about the tent!

He stepped out of the kitchen to the living room full of chatting people. He clapped his hands twice for everyone’s attention. “Are there any big, strong people here?”

“Hell yeah!” Prussia shouted, his open hand shooting up into the air.

Hungary reached over and pulled Prussia’s hand down. “Easy there, Prussia, I think Seborga was talking to me.”

“Cute, folks.” America added. “Sorry to say, but I think I have you beat.”

“Oh yeah?” Prussia challenged. He pushed the sleeve of his T-shirt up to his shoulder. “You. Me. Arm wrestling. Now.”

Seborga once again clapped his hands together for their attention. “It’s fine, you’ll all do. You three go down and get the canopy tent out of Spain’s basement.”

“I can still get it up quicker than you can.” America challenged, pulling his sleeves up his arms as he pushed past Prussia.

Prussia only took a moment to recover before Hungary too bumped into him as she bolted past America.

Seborga rolled his eyes, grinning. “Okay. France, Austria, and Canada. There are some lantern lights down in the basement. Can you take them up and string them in the branches of the backyard trees?”

“Of course. Anything for you, Seb!” France said. He was followed by Austria and Canada as they hustled down the steps.

“Anything you need me to do?” Germany asked.

Seborga snapped, turning around. “Actually, yes! I need your help decorating the birthday cake. I know you’re super good with that kind of thing.”

“I try to be.” Germany said bashfully, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “I’m not good at the small details. My hands are too big.”

“That’s okay. All help is important!” Seborga affirmed, waving Germany toward the kitchen. He paused and shouted down into the basement. “Oh, before you guys start you have to park your cars in the back so the boys don’t see them before they come into the house!”

“Got it!” Canada shouted, his quiet voice only slightly amplified by the echo of the basement. “Thank you, Seborga!”

Seborga then joined Germany in the kitchen, where he was searching the cabinets for bowls and pulling them out systematically by size.

“I know you wanted me to help, but I didn’t know what I was supposed to do so I... got bowls.” Germany said, awkwardly waving to the assortment on the counter.

Seborga smiled. He’d always liked Germany. Though the man was intimidating on the outside, there was a kind of friendly awkward charm that made him impossible to dislike.

Twenty minutes later they had somehow stacked the three layers of cake and were frosting it with a crumb coat. Though Seborga knew that Germany's help would be instrumental to getting the cake done in time, but the two were actually ahead of schedule! With how well everything was going, Seborga had a difficult time thinking of anything that could make him any happier.

“So…” Germany began.

Seborga smiled as he frosted the outside of the second layer. “So?”

“I have… a question to ask you.”

Seborga looked over, alarmed by the nervous tone Germany had.

Germany was scooping more frosting onto his spatula, apparently avoiding Seborga’s gaze.

“Yes, of course!”

“So…” Germany began frosting he cake once again. “Your brother.”

“My brother.” Seborga repeated with an encouraging smile.

Germany lowered he spatula and finally met Seborga’s gaze. “I... love Feliciano very much. I have for a very long time. And maybe it’s a bad time, because I know Lovino and Spain are already engaged, but…”

Seborga’s mouth split into a joyful grin.

“I wanted to propose this evening.” Ludwig seemed to force it out, like keeping it in any longer would be painful. “If that was okay with you. I wanted your blessing.”

“Aww, Ludwig, that’s so sweet!” Seborga crooned. “Of course you have my blessing!”

Ludwig, relieved, let out a rare full smile. “That’s a relief. I already had Lovino’s blessing, but still…”

Seborga jumped up and down, clapping his hands. He already liked Ludwig, but he occasionally found himself still surprised by how sweet and considerate he could be. “Oh, this is fantastic! When are you planning on doing it?!”

Germany shrugged, scooping more frosting onto his spatula. “I thought I could do it late this evening, after most people had left. I figured the more private the better.”

“That’s perfect.” Seborga affirmed, resting a hand on Germany’s arm. “He’ll want to tell his family afterword, you know. He wouldn't be opposed to telling other people too, but I think he would prefer for it to just be a family moment."

“I know.” Germany’s lips pulled into a sentimental close-mouthed smile. “So I was hoping you and your brothers would stay here for a while after the party.”

“We can make that happen.” Seborga gave Germany a thumbs-up before he remembered they were working on a time limit. He continued to frost the cake. “Will Prussia be there?”

Germany shook his head. “No. We agreed to, if Feli says yes, go out for drinks and celebrate together this weekend. I imagine he will go home with France of Canada this evening.”

“This is perfect!” Seborga cheered, hardly able to contain himself. “Oh, and it’ll be perfect with all the lights in the trees, and the tent, and with how nice it is outside…”

“And that path Spain has around his yard, bordered by flowers.” Germany added. “It’s supposed to be a clear night.”

Seborga continued to frost the cake, smiling so wide that his cheeks began to hurt.

Ten minutes before Spain and his brothers were supposed to arrive, Seborga took one last lap around the house to check all the details. “Food warming in the oven, check. Cake in the fridge, check.” He peeked out the kitchen window. “Lanterns, tent, tables, decorations…” He then left the kitchen and made his way to the living room. “The decorations are up…”

Indeed, they were. Streamers were strung all across the room, balloons were weighed down and floating over top of the couch's side tables and a banner hung over the furniture that wished the two brothers a happy birthday.

Seborga’s gaze settled onto the coffee table, which had a vase of lilies proudly blooming. “Oh, those are gorgeous! Who brought those?”

“We did.” Austria answered, his chest puffed out with pride. “Hungary thought it would be nice to bring the boys some flowers.” His gaze settled adoringly on his wife.

Hungary smirked at Austria. “Making them their national flower was his idea.”

Austria uncomfortably cleared his throat as his cheeks flushed. “Yes, well… yes, it was.”

Seborga laughed at Austria’s discomfort. “Well, it was very sweet.” He peered around the room, the living room full of treasured friends. Invited to the party were all of the former allied powers standing around the room, with the exception of America who was sitting and leaning his elbows on the coffee table. China, Hong Kong, Taiwan, and South Korea were all crowded around the coffee table, South Korea laughing at a joke America had just made. Russia’s sisters were attending, Ukraine standing between Hungary and Liechtenstein and Belarus standing by her brother looking like she would rather not be there. Switzerland was perched on a chair muttering something to Portugal, Liechtenstein leaning against the back of the chair. All of the Nordics squeezed onto one couch. The micronations had also come, crowded at the edge of the room. “Everything appears to be in order!”

“It was very good of you to set all this up, Seborga.” England’s words were accompanied by a sincere smile.

Seborga rubbed the back of his neck bashfully as the sentiment was repeated by the guests. “Aww, it was good of you all to come and celebrate my brothers with me. I’m not sure how Romano will react, he doesn’t exactly love surprises.” He felt a buzz in his back pocket, pulling his phone out of his pocket, his eyes widening.

“Something wrong?” Finland asked from the couch.

Seborga slid his phone back in his pocket. “Spain texted. They’ll be here any minute!”

China brushed past Seborga. “Taiwan, come help me turn out all the lights!”

Taiwan sprang up from her place by the coffee table.

“We have to hide!” Monaco stepped forward, crouching behind the couch.

There was a sudden scrambling as everyone tried to find places to hide.

“How do you hide this many people?!” Sealand cried.

“Sealand!” Seborga barked. “You and Wy are small! Hide under the coffee table!”

“There isn’t enough room to hide everyone.” Germany said urgently.

Seborga licked his lips as he tried to think. “Everyone, try and hide behind the counters in the kitchen!”

All the Asian countries moved to the kitchen, followed closely by Norway and Sweden.

Seborga looked around urgently as the lights went out in the living room, eventually settling on just standing against the wall where the door would open. He would just have to pray that they didn’t shut the door to reveal him before everyone stood and surprised them.

As Seborga pressed himself against the wall, he watched America whip his head around in search of hiding spots in the seemingly empty living room. Eventually he sprinted over to a corner and moved a lamp that was standing in the corner. He did a handstand where it once stood. “Someone help me!” America shouted. “I need someone to put the lampshade over my feet!”

Seborga could hear France snicker from somewhere in the living room. “Are you being serious?”

“I can’t feel my face anymore! You think I’m not being serious?!” America whisper-yelled.

Belarus finally stood from behind the couch and jogged over to the corner, pulling the lampshade off the lamp and settling it on America’s foot. On her face was a rare smile. “This is idiotic.”

“Hey, this is genius.” America refuted.

“Flatten your feet.” Belarus ordered. “The lampshade will not be staying straight up.”

“Oh, sorry.” America began sarcastically. “Let me just bend my foot to lie against my frickin’ leg. I forgot I’m a contortionist.”

“If you continue your whining, I can be making your feet bend in that way.” Despite her words, Belarus’ words held no bite.

Japan peeked his head up over the back of the armchair, his brow furrowed into a worried frown. “Please, we are running out of time before they get here.”

Belarus finally just lifted her hands off the lampshade and retreated back to her hiding place.

Seborga shushed the muttering room as he strained to listen. “That’s Spain’s car! Everyone be quiet!” He listened to the car’s engine shut off. Listened to the doors of the car open and shut. Listened to the three converse as they walked from the car to the porch.

“We’d better hurry.” Italy’s voice was muffled by the door.

A key was pushed into the lock and turned. “I will.” Spain's voice promised. “I wanted to get him something before I dropped you off to your place. I borrowed a pair of jeans from him and forgot to give it back to him.”

There was a slight pause as the door opened.

“Hold on.” Romano’s voice said, tinged with suspiciousness.

The door swung open further. Seborga sucked in his gut. If the door bounced off him, his brothers would immediately know something was up. He withheld a sigh of relief as the door stopped an inch from his torso.

Romano stepped in.

Seborga was able to see Romano’s arm.

Romano’s arm was bent, apparently resting his hands on his hips. “You two aren’t even close to the same size in pants."

Spain reached forward and paused for a moment, scanning the room. His gaze apparently settled on America for only a moment before he laughed nervously. “Sure we are! At any rate, it’s not about he pants.” He extended his arm forward, flicking the living room light on.

Everyone sprung out from their hiding places, all shouting surprises and happy birthdays.

Italy sprung in shock for a moment before he started laughing.

Romano jumped backwards, screaming Italian profanity for a moment before he apparently realized what was going on and recovered. A rare belly laugh erupted from him as he saw everyone. “Oh my God."

“This is amazing!” Italy laughed, his eyes darting around to see everyone.

Seborga sprung out from behind the door, clamping his hands down onto Romano’s shoulders. “Surprise!”

Romano spun around, screaming once again. His mouth once again split into a rare smile. “You asshole!” He punched his shoulder. “You weren’t sick at all!”

“No, I wasn’t.” Seborga laughed at his reaction. “I needed to stay behind to set all this up!”

“You did all this?!” Feliciano asked.

“Well, I had a little bit of help.” Seborga admitted.

Romano turned to face Spain, who was still laughing at his reactions. “You were in on this, weren’t you?”

Spain looked down at his fiancé. “Yes, of course I was.”

Italy looked around the room, toeing off his shoes to go greet all the guests. “This is incredible! Thank you all so much!”

The guests gathered around Italy, giving him well-wishes and greetings.

Romano hung back, turning to face Seborga. “Sebastian, thank you.”

“Of course!” Seborga grinned. “I have great older brothers. Not as good of a brother as I am, of course, but…”

Romano lightly punched Seborga on the shoulder with a smirk. “You’re such a brat.”

“Go talk to all the guests! They’re excited to see you!” Seborga waved Romano further into the living room.

Romano smiled to Seborga briefly before he made his way through the ocean of people.

Spain watched his fiancé mingle with the crowd, wordlessly lifting his hand for a fist bump.

Seborga watched America collapse from his handstand, knocking his fist against Spain’s in victory.

“See?!” America cried victoriously, standing among the shocked concern and carefree laughter. “I told you all they wouldn’t notice!”

The party went on swimmingly. The alcohol Germany and Prussia brought was a huge success, the party moving outside as everyone mingled. The food was enjoyed immensely, Seborga growing slowly more and more bashful as people praised him on his cooking. The real showstopper, though, was when the cake was brought out. Three layers of cake, Seborga’s own recipe. Coffee flavored, yet somehow light. This was a huge success to everyone except for Sealand, who didn’t like coffee. Seborga, expecting this, secretly slipped him some candy under the table for later. Everything went without an issue. No fights, no arguments, no drunken shenanigans (Seborga had France to thank for keeping Spain and Prussia under control). As the night got darker, half the guests began to break away and head home. The small party moved indoors, easily chatting in the living room. They swapped stories about the birthday boys, Germany divulging the classic favorite story of how the brothers learned to use grenades. To Romano’s credit, he took the slight humiliation with grace, the alcohol and pure happiness within him appearing to make him more easygoing. Finally, the evening was winding down and people were finally heading home.

Seborga watched as Germany and Canada escorted Prussia to the door, who was now so tipsy that he could hardly walk.

“You’re a great brother, you know.” Prussia slurred, Germany catching him as he stumbled.

Germany righted him, apparently used to his antics. “Yes, I know.”

“And you!” Prussia whipped his gaze to Canada. “You’re, like, the awesomest boyfriend in the world.”

Canada smiled. “Yes, I know.”

“I’m super serious!” Prussia continued. He tried to slide his shoes on, laughing as he was unable to. “You’re so nice all the time. Especially to me. Which is especially nice since I sometimes forget how to be nice.” He successfully slid on a shoe. “Ha! Got it!” He went limp, as if his bones suddenly lost structural integrity.

Germany grunted in surprise, catching him.

Prussia cackled. “I love you guys, you know that?”

“Yes, yes, we know that.” Germany grunted, apparently growing tired of Prussia.

“Prussia,” Canada said. His voice was rather similar to a kindergarten teacher speaking to a tired toddler. “How about you get your other shoe on?”

Prussia tried to stand. “Yes, of course! Anything for my Birdie!” He slid the other shoe on, smiling dopily at Canada. “The ultimate act of love.”

Canada appeared to be biting back a laugh. “Yes. Thank you, Prussia.”

“Alright,” Germany rolled his eyes. “Let’s get you to Canada’s car.”

“Woohoo!” Prussia stuck his two fists in the air as if he were at a concert. “Hell yeah! I get to go to my Birdie’s house!” As he was escorted to Canada’s car, he continued to shout in German.

Even as the door shut, Seborga could hear Prussia shouting with elation.

Spain laughed, his cheeks flushed. “He’s great.”

“He’s entertaining, at any rate.” Romano said, leaning back against the couch. “Don’t get me wrong, that was a good party. But I’m happy it’s over.”

Seborga too relaxed back in his chair. “Me too.”

Italy grinned. “That was the perfect party, Sebby. You did a great job.”

“Thanks.”

Spain leaned forward. “Seb, I love you, but you look like you’re dead.”

Seborga let out a surprised laugh. “You’re a real charmer, Toni, I can see why Lovino wanted to marry you.”

“Part of my natural charm, I guess.” Spain rested his arms on the back of the couch.

“Whatever you say, bastard.” Romano rested his head against Spain’s arm.

Seborga heard the door open, turning his head to watch Germany step into the house with a tired sigh.

“That bad?” Italy asked with a grin.

“Everything was fine until he started singing.” Germany shuffled into the living room, collapsing on the couch next to Italy. “I knew it was all over when he started singing ‘The Model’ by Kraftwerk at the top of his lungs.”

Italy laughed, Seborga and Spain joining in. Romano was apparently so tired that all he could muster was a smile.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” Germany asked Italy.

Italy smiled. “A walk sounds nice. It’s so gorgeous outside!”

Germany stood. “Good, good. Let’s go.” There was a practiced casualty to his movements. A practiced casualty that was not executed well. His movements were almost stiff, his expression awkward.

“Okay,” Italy smiled. “No need to be so stiff, sir. All the guests are gone.”

“Right.” Germany tried for a casual smile, but it looked almost as if the smile caused him pain.

Italy shook his head with a grin. “You’re going to need a week of isolation after today, aren’t you?”

Germany laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as he went to go put his shoes on. “Guess so.”

Seborga determinedly faced forward as the two put on their jackets and, conversing, left the house. He didn’t want to give anything away.

Romano lifted his head slightly as the door shu. His brow was slightly furrowed. “Let’s see if the potato bastard can get the proposal out before he spontaneously combusts.”

Seborga laughed. “I’m sure he’ll be able to.”

Spain smiled lazily. “Remember when I proposed to you, Romano?”

“Of course.” Romano smiled. The grin was full. Unguarded. “The dinner, the fashion show, the gelato under the stars. All of it. The proposal in the gazebo.”

“Did he ever tell you what we did after I proposed, Sebastien?” Spain asked.

Romano groaned. “Stop.”

“We danced.” Spain smiled at the memory. “Your brother may not look it, but he’s a romantic.”

“Don’t know what else you would expect out of an Italian.” Seborga said.

“There wasn’t any music, you know.” Spain continued.

Romano cringed, covering his face with his hands. “Stop.” His words were muffled, but no less desperate.

“But he didn’t care. I just hummed for us and we danced.”

“You never told me that part, Lovi!” Seborga teased with an impish grin.

“Because I would rather die.” His hands still concealed his face.

The three of them conversed for a while, the passing of time causing the conversation to be stunted and awkward. awkward. The three of them were each distracted by thoughts both positive and negative. Of course, Seborga was almost certain that Italy would say ‘yes’. But as time passed longer and longer, Seborga couldn’t help but realize that if they were taking this long to return, then the outcome likely wasn’t positive. Ten minutes turned into twenty minutes, which turned into half an hour, which eventually became 45 minutes.

“What’s taking them so long?” Romano asked.

Seborga frowned. “You don’t think Feli didn’t accept the proposal, do you?”

“Of course not.” Romano shook his head. “He loves Ludwig too much to.” Regardless, he looked at his watch, his expression slightly unsettled.

Spain bounced his leg. A nervous habit of his. “Everything’s probably fine.”

Regardless, the forty five minutes turned into an hour. A few minutes after the hour passed, the door opened.

Seborga kept his eyes fixed pointedly ahead, despite the fact that both Spain and Romano watched the door swing open. He knew Italy probably accepted the proposal. But if he didn’t, he wanted to afford Germany and Italy some privacy.

Shoed feet slapped against the hardwood floor, someone bolting into the house. Italy popped into the living room, his face alight with happiness. “Guys, guys, guys!”

“What?” Spain asked, smiling. To those watching without context, the expression would be of pure curiosity. But to one who knew what the three knew, it was impossible to miss the mingling relief in the toothy grin.

Germany too walked through the door, his face alight in what could only be described as pure joy.

Seborga choked back a laugh as he noticed Germany’s hair was almost completely undone, the collar of his shirt was wrinkled, and his face was flushed. Even with his mouth stretched in a wide grin, his lips were red and very obviously swollen.

Italy bound into the room. Upon closer inspection, his face was equally flushed, his lips equally swollen. He held his hand out, displaying a gold engagement ring. “We’re engaged!”

“What?!” Seborga cried, standing and clutching Italy’s hand to look at the ring.

Italy laughed. “It’s okay, guys, Luddy told me you guys knew.”

“Of course he did.” Romano shook his head, but he was smiling. “Congratulations, Feli.”

“Thank you!” Italy rubbed his cheeks. “I’m smiling so hard my cheeks hurt!”

“What took you guys so long?” Romano asked. “We were starting to get worried!”

Germany stepped forward, still grinning. “I was so nervous, we rounded Spain’s yard several times before I actually asked him.”

“Then he asked me, I said yes, and we walked around the yard a few more times before we finally came back in to tell you!”

“Mm-hmm.” Seborga crossed his arms. “Just walking around the yard.”

Germany cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck, looking everywhere but at Spain and Italy’s brothers.

“To be fair,” Italy said. “We did walk around the yard a few times to talk a bit.”

“Congratulations, you two.” Spain grinned, stepping forward to shake their hands.

“Lovi, we’re both engaged at the same time!” Feliciano cheered, springing forward and hugging his brother.

Romano stiffened at the hug, apparently being in a good enough mood not to immediately pry his brother off of him. “Yes, we are! But I’m having my wedding first.” The words held no bite.

“Now all you have to do is get engaged too, Sebastian.” Germany joked.

Seborga smiled to himself, looking down at his shoes. “I dunno’. Don’t think I’m the marrying type.”

“That’s what Romano said.” Italy reminded him. “Look at him now!”

Seborga laughed in agreement, though he internally rolled his eyes. He knew there was a certain pressure to be with someone as a romantic country. He did enjoy flirting every now and again, but the part he liked about it was how people's faces would light up at the attention. He had never been one for romance, and he doubted he ever would be. He was too elated about the new engagement, however, to pursue that conversation with his brothers. About half an hour later, Seborga was about ready to fall asleep in his chair.

“Getting a little tired, Sebby?” Spain asked.

Seborga opened his eyes, not realizing he had allowed them to close. “Hmm? I guess so.”

“Will you be okay to drive home?” Germany asked from the couch. “I can drive you, if you want.”

Seborga shook his head. “No. I’ll be fine. The wind will keep me awake. I should head out, though, before I get any more tired.”

“Bye, Seb!” Italy stood and wrapped his arms around Seborga. “Drive safely.”

“I will.”

Romano too stood. “Thank you for the party, Seb. It was wonderful.”

“Of course!” Seborga responded, smiling.

“Just promise me one thing.”

“Sure.”

Romano smirked. “Never do it again. You look exhausted.”

Seborga laughed, shaking his head. “If again, not for a long time.”

Spain stood, also hugging Seborga. “Sleep well tonight. You’ve earned it.”

“I plan on it.”

Germany also stood, stepping forward. He awkwardly raised his arms up for a hug.

Seborga smiled, sticking his hand out for a handshake. “It’s okay, Big guy. I know you’re not a hugger.”

Germany looked relieved as he shook Seborga’s hand, giving a close-mouthed smile. “Thank you. Drive safely.”

It took Seborga only ten more minutes to pull himself away from his siblings and future brothers-in-law, him rolling his motorcycle out of the garage with relief. He pulled on his helmet, starting up his motorcycle. He was glad it was a short drive to his house. While he normally would have parked it in his garage, the sky was completely clear. He settled to just park it in his driveway. He was exhausted. Seborga slipped out of his jacket, hanging it on a peg on the door. He walked into his hallway, past the living room and out to his white wooden deck. The moon was full, the beams reflecting on the waves as they lapped onto his white-sand beach. He finally let out a long, slow, exhausted sigh. “You killed it, Sebby.” He closed his eyes, relishing the lack of voices. The lack of phone calls, the sounds of crepe streamers, the smell of the ocean rather than the smell of baking cake. The sounds of the water moving against itself, mixing and mingling with grains of sand relaxed him and slowed his heartbeat. For a moment, he stood and relished the sound of being completely alone.

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juliussneezerfics · 5 years ago

Text

Cards and Cons

Ao3

Ludwig, a police officer, is on a day off when he can't help but notice a gorgeous man sitting in front of a coffee shop. His stomach drops when he realizes the man is a con artist. Of course, having his solid moral code, Ludwig has no choice but to bring him to the station.

I know nothing about German law enforcement. I am just a humble clueless American, please spare me.

Also, just a little drabble I thought of earlier today. I have all this free time now that America is FINALLY doing something that matters about corona.

***********

Ludwig walked down the busy German street, his right hand gripping a paper bag. He was usually not one to go shopping for much other than food, but he had needed more button-down shirts for months now and had finally stiffened his resolve to get a few. It was a gorgeous spring day, a slight breeze playing through the air, caressing his face. The few trees planted periodically by the sidewalk were beginning to show green buds, showcasing the small changes that were sure to come with spring.

People bustled around him, causing the hairs on the back of Ludwig’s neck to stand up. There was something in the air that was charged. Excited. Him being an introvert, even without talking to these people, just pushing through them was socially exhausting him. He was a few minutes from his apartment, a few minutes away from sweet solitude with his dogs. He passed a nearby café that he occasionally liked to stop at before patrol for much-needed caffeine. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed an auburn-haired gentleman seated at a table in front of the café, talking to a young woman sitting across from him.

His skin was tan, disproportionately so for it just being spring. His brown eyes, even from this distance, darted around with a kind of friendly cleverness. He wore a white button-down shirt, a black waistcoat buttoned over his slim chest. The man was attractive, undoubtedly so. It wasn't often that Ludwig noticed this about strangers. Despite the initial attraction he found in the mystery man, however, he couldn't help but notice the man's salesman's disposition. Then Ludwig happened to catch a glance of the cards in the man's hand. The rapturous attention the young woman was paying him was apparent even with Ludwig able to catch only the back of her head. Something within Ludwig hardened. As he was passing, he caught the disappointed expression on her face.

The man smiled at her.

Ludwig could spot a scam artist as surely as he could see the café he was walking past, but regardless of the man’s goals, there was something do genuine in the way he smiled.

“Oh, sorry about that! Better luck next time!” The man said.

Ludwig was slightly surprised as he noticed the accented German. It was very convincing, but to a native German the difference was apparent.

The woman dug through her purse, handing over some euro with a frown.

“Have a good day!” The man grinned, sliding the euro in his back pocket.

He brushed past the woman and slid into the seat across from the man. Even as he did this, he kicked himself. Today was supposed to be his day off. Captain Kirkland had been bothering him about letting up from his work, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to sleep that night knowing that he let a scam artist off the hook.

The man glanced up, surprised. His surprise then faded into the salesman’s smile. “Hello there! Feeling lucky?”

“Not particularly. I just noticed that your accent is foreign.” Ludwig said, forcing down his frown and replacing it with an easy smile. His brother, also in the force, joked that he should have been an undercover cop with how easily he feigned different personalities. He was very confident in his ability to act this time, as well. There was something about this man that motivated him an unusual amount to bring him in. “Where are you from?”

“Does it matter?” The man asked, smiling right back. “You’re a native German, right?”

“Right. I swear I have heard that accent before. It is Mediterranean, right?”

The man shrugged. “Yes. Italian. What brings you out and about this beautiful day?"

“I thought so!” Ludwig sat back, crossing his arms with a grin. “An Italian who speaks German. Do you speak any other languages?”

“Spanish, English, French. I can speak a little bit of Cantonese, but I mean a little bit. I would not be able to hold my own by myself.”

“Impressive.”

“Thank you! Do you know any other languages?” The man asked.

“Just English. I am not as linguistically inclined as you are.”

The man looked down at his cards as he shuffled them. “You flatter me.” He glanced back up. “You know, I usually charge five euro for a card game, but a handsome, charming man such as yourself, I may just charge you four.”

Ludwig swallowed the excitement of catching the con artist, sitting forward. “What the hell? May as well. How do you play?”

“It’s easy.” The man also sat forward, withdrawing three cards from the middle of the deck with a trained hand. “I have three cards.” He fanned them out, the cards facing Ludwig. “Red three of hearts, red two of hearts, and a black ace of spades. All you have to do is find the ace.”

“That easy?” Ludwig asked.

“That easy.” The man responded. He laid the cards face-down on the table, shuffling them.

Ludwig was careful to keep his eyes on what he knew was the black ace.

The man looked up with a smirk, releasing the cards. “Okay, take your pick.”

Ludwig reached forward and tapped the card on the right. “That one.”

The man's smile slid off his face. He reached forward and flipped the card, revealing the black ace of spades. “Damn. You got it! Most people don’t!” He dug into his back pocket and offered Ludwig four euros.

Ludwig smiled, unsure of what to say as he accepted them.

“Okay, tell you what. Double or nothing! If I win, I get eight euro. If you win, I give eight euro to you.”

Got him. Before this moment, Ludwig had had no solid proof that this man was actually a con artist. But now he would have his opportunity. “Worth the chance!”

The man smiled, taking the cards and resting them back on the table as he began to shuffle. His hand slipped, causing the cards to cascade down to the ground. “Oh! Sorry! I get so clumsy sometimes…” He bent over in his chair and swept the cards up.

Ludwig frowned. He knew that this is when the scam took place. But the man picking up the cards was so quick and so smooth in his movements; Ludwig had no way to see how it was done. It was an impressive trick, that was for sure. Whoever this man was, he had been doing this for a long time.

“Sorry. Back to the game.” He set the cards back on the table and shuffled for a couple moments more before he lifted his hands. “Alright!”

Ludwig pointed to the middle card.

The man flipped it over, revealing a red two of hearts. “Ooh, bad luck. Better luck next time!” He swept the cards into his hands, shuffling them once again. “Unless you want to do triple or nothing?” The man reached forward and held his hand out expectantly.

Ludwig handed the four euros to the man. “No, thank you.”

“What, you scared?” The man taunted with a grin.

“No.” Ludwig reached into his jacket pocket, revealing his badge. “But you should be.”

The man blinked. The change in his demeanor would be damn near invisible unless Ludwig was looking for it. The man smiled. “Officer, I think I am missing something. I am just a man trying to make a living. Surely, you understand that.”

“Oh, I would.” Ludwig responded, sliding the badge back in his pocket. “If you were not cheating.”

“I'm not cheating!” The man protested, his smile dropping.

Ludwig sat forward. “Then certainly you'll let me see your cards.”

“My cards are my private property!”

“Fine. Either way you're going to a holding cell, so you can either go in with more honesty, or you go in until I get a warrant to search your deck.” Ludwig offered. “Take your pick.”

The man reached forward and turned over the cards on the table, revealing a three of hearts and two twos of hearts. He said nothing.

“Right. Come with me.”

The man continued to sit. “Where?”

“To the station.”

The man stood, his entire demeanor changing to one of friendliness. “Whatever you say. Take me to the station, Officer.” He collected his cards off the table.

Ludwig rested a hand on his shoulder. “Lucky for you, it's a short walk. Lucky for me, it's not long for you to come up with an alibi.”

The man stiffened under Ludwig’s touch, but otherwise his face remained unchanged.

Ludwig ignored the stares of the passerby as he told the man his rights.

The man listened, his brow furrowing. “A little slower, please?”

Ludwig read them a little slower. He realized that he had become so used to the words that they slipped out steadily and quickly. For a foreigner, it must have been difficult to keep up. “Do you understand?”

“I do.”

Ludwig steered the man forward. He grabbed his bag, aware of how strange they must have looked as they walked down the street. It was a five minute walk to the station from the café, but he knew that by taking a couple alleyways, he could shave off two minutes. As he had no handcuffs, he had no means to guarantee the man would stay with him except for the iron grip he had on the man’s shoulder. He steered him toward an alleyway.

They passed a garbage truck, the back closing as the garbage man made his way back to the cab.

Suddenly, the man jerked away from Ludwig’s grip and lurched forward, pulling the euros and a card out of his back pocket and tossing them into the garbage truck.

“Wait!” Ludwig burst, shocked.

The door to the garbage truck shut completely and drove down the alleyway and out into the street, apparently not hearing Ludwig’s cries.

“What did you just do?!”

The man returned to Ludwig, turning his back to him wordlessly.

Ludwig grumbled. As infuriating as it was, he knew that the man was exercising his right to remain silent. Regardless, he couldn't help but feel his blood boiling at the act.

They finally made it into the station. It bustled with officers going about their business, each focused on whatever they had to be doing at the moment.

The secretary stood up, frowning as the odd pair approached. “Ludwig? This is your day off!”

“It appears that crime doesn’t take days off.” Ludwig responded. “I was out running some errands when I caught this scam artist.”

“I’ll get a holding cell for you.” The secretary said, lifting his phone.

“Thank you.” He directed his gaze to the man.

The man’s face had changed from a firm resolve to that of a startled innocent man.

Ludwig couldn’t help but feel his stomach drop. “Come on.” He urged, steering the man forward.

Ludwig locked the man in the holding cell, the man standing at the bars and grabbing them in a white-knuckle grip.

Ludwig retrieved a clip board from his desk, lifting it and unfolding his reading glasses.

“I’m not a scammer, I swear! Please, just let me go!” The man pleaded.

Ludwig eyed him over the top of his glasses. He was convincing, that was for sure. If Ludwig had not been caught in the midst of the scam himself, he would have believed the man. “Name?”

“Feliciano Vargas.” The man replied. “Please, I just want to leave.”

“Brown eyes, brown hair…” Ludwig muttered, filling out the form. “Age?”

“Twenty-three.”

Ludwig eyed the man. “Mm.”

The door burst open. “Beilschmidt, what’s the meaning of this? Today is supposed to be your day off.” Captain Kirkland asked, standing in front of the cell.

“Oh, thank God!” Feliciano cried. He spat out several frantic sentences in Italian. “Please, listen to me!”

“A scam artist.” Ludwig answered.

Captain Kirkland raised an eyebrow. “Scam artist, huh?” Captain Kirkland faced Feliciano. “What happened?”

“I was playing solitaire at the nearby café, and this man accused me of being a scam artist and dragged me here after showing me his badge!”

“Right.” Captain Kirkland turned to face Ludwig. “Beilschmidt. What happened?”

“I sat down with Vargas at the café and he tried a card game on me. He gave me three cards, two reds of hearts and one black of spades. He let me win, then he challenged me double or nothing and ‘dropped’ the cards before he picked them back up. I lost the second game, of course. I turned over the three cards and there were two red twos of hearts and one red three of hearts. Then I had what I needed and took him in.”

“Right.” Captain Kirkland grabbed the keys off of the desk and unlocked the door. “Mr. Vargas, I'll conduct a quick search for evidence.”

“Please!” Feliciano stepped out of the cell and held his arms out, obliging the captain.

Captain Kirkland gave him a quick pat-down, pulling a deck of cards out of Feliciano’s back pocket, and a wallet out of his front pocket. “That’s all he has. Beilschmidt, lock him up again.”

Captain Kirkland set the cards down on the desk, opening Feliciano’s wallet. “I.D., a credit card, a gift card to a café, and a couple one euro notes.”

Ludwig glared daggers at Feliciano.

Captain Kirkland turned his back to grab the cards off of the desk.

As Captain Kirkland’s back was turned, Feliciano turned to Ludwig and smirked at him victoriously.

Ludwig glowered back, already knowing that he had lost. That Feliciano would get off Scott free and leave him behind with a tarnished reputation. Ludwig had interacted with many criminals before. But there was something about Feliciano that made his blood boil. But more than that, more concerning…

There was something about Feliciano that made him excited. Intrigued.

Captain Kirkland fanned the deck, thumbing through them individually. With every red heart, he withdrew the card from the deck and set it on the desk. After he went through he fanned them out. “One three of hearts, one two of hearts.” He lay them on the desk, looking to Ludwig with something akin to pity.

Ludwig despised it.

“Beilschmidt, it would be impossible for Mr. Vargas to show you those cards. He doesn’t have them! Not to mention, there's not enough cash substantial enough to prove a con game. I think perhaps you should take a couple more days off.”

“Captain Kirkland-”

“That’s an order, Beilschmidt. For God's sake, you're carrying around your badge during the weekend.” Captain Kirkland interrupted. He turned to Feliciano, unlocking the cell. “Sorry about that, Mr. Vargas. Beilschmidt is usually very reliable. This is an anomaly.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it!” Feliciano grinned, waving dismissively. “I get it! Too much of a hard worker, huh?”

Ludwig didn’t respond. He bit the inside of his cheek to prevent saying something he would later regret. He knew that Captain Kirkland’s eyes were on him. “Perhaps.”

“If I could just have my things back…” Feliciano began, holding his hand out.

“Of course.” Captain Kirkland handed Feliciano the cards and wallet. “I will see you out personally.”

“Oh, thank you!” Feliciano grinned.

Captain Kirkland faced Ludwig. “Go on ahead and stay home until next Monday. I look forward to seeing you in.”

Ludwig nodded, clenching his jaw.

Captian Kirkland said something that Ludwig didn't pay attention to and led Feliciano out of the room. Before Feliciano left, though, he turned his head and smirked at Ludwig one more time before he left the station.

The next day, Ludwig was out and about. Not for any particular reason. He just couldn’t stand staying in his apartment. He was not one to laze around. It was like he had a compulsive need to do something. So, for today, he settled on going for a walk and enjoying the pleasant spring afternoon and grabbing coffee. He spotted that same coffee shop from a distance, a bitter taste on the edge of his tongue at the memory of that man. Belatedly, Ludwig noticed Feliciano seated at the café.

Feliciano was looking down, scribbling in a sketchbook, a half-full cappuccino sitting at his elbow as he sketched. He wore a blue button-down. Under the table, a jean-clad leg bounced easily.

Ludwig strode forward, pulling out his chair and sitting down.

Feliciano looked up from his work, smiling. “That is the most aggressively I have ever seen someone sit down.”

“How long have you been scamming?”

“Can I get you a cup of coffee?” Feliciano asked with a grin. This one was unlike any of the others Ludwig had seen. It was genuine. Full. Happy.

“I- what?” Ludwig asked, his frown loosening slightly with shock.

“A cup of coffee. You. Me. Talking. Coffee.”

“Why?” Ludwig asked.

Feliciano shrugged. “I don’t know why, but I like you. I want to get to know you better.” He smiled. “Besides, I kind of like that thing you do with your jaw.”

Ludwig clenched his jaw. God, this man was irritating. Despite himself, he found himself sort of flattered.

“Yes, that thing!” Feliciano pointed to Ludwig with his pencil.

Ludwig immediately stopped gritting his teeth. “Why would I get coffee with you?”

“I’ll only talk if you let me buy you a cup of coffee.” Feliciano answered.

Ludwig took a moment to weigh his dignity against his desire to learn more about Feliciano. Apparently, his desire outweighed his dignity. “Fine.”

Feliciano reached into his wallet and withdrew the gift card. “There’s enough to get whatever you want from the menu.”

Ludwig eyed the gift card skeptically in his hand.

“It was a gift. It’s not from scammed money, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Feliciano explained, picking up his pencil and once again stroking it on the paper.

Ludwig eyed the man sitting before him and stood up resolutely.

He returned five minutes later, setting his drink on the table and handing Feliciano his gift card.

As Feliciano accepted the card, he glanced at Ludwig’s drink. “Black coffee?”

Ludwig took a seat and sipped his drink.

“Somehow that seems like a good fit for you.”

Ludwig set the cup down on the saucer and glanced down at the velvety black surface of his coffee. “Thank you.”

“Of course!”

“I must admit, despite how much I don’t want to say it, I’m impressed. Not many people can get past Captain Kirkland. You’re not an average scam artist.”

“I’m not average.” Feliciano shut his sketchbook. “I may be running the risk of sounding full of myself, but I’m the best.”

“How long have you been scamming?”

“Since I was a little boy.” Feliciano answered. He spun the pencil absently in his left hand.

“Why?” Ludwig asked, frowning.

Feliciano shrugged. “I didn’t have the easiest childhood. My parents died when I was young, so I was left in the care of my grandpa. He had to work a lot. We were pretty poor, so I picked up scamming to help supplement his income. I would slip the euros in his pocket when he wasn’t looking. It wasn’t a lot, but, you know, it’s coping I guess.”

“I’m sorry.” Ludwig apologized.

Feliciano looked up with an easy grin. “Don’t be. It’s part of life.”

Ludwig paused, looking over Feliciano's shoulder as he thought of something to say. “What are you doing in Germany?”

“My grandpa is doing a lot better now. He expanded his winery, and he wanted my brothers and I to see the world. I travel for art, and I scam every once in a while.”

“Is scamming really that profitable?”

Feliciano shrugged. “Not really. It’s not like I keep it.”

Ludwig frowned confusedly. “I’m sorry?”

“I don’t keep it. I give it away. I leave it places, I give it to homeless if I happen to pass ‘em, I buy coffee for whoever’s behind me, that kind of thing.”

“Why?”

“It’s not the money I want. It’s the thrill. I’m not proud of it, but I’m sort of addicted to it.”

“Perhaps it isn’t my business, but does it make you feel guilty? Scamming people of their money?”

“Not really.” Feliciano withdrew a deck of cards from his back pocket, shuffling them absently. “I mean, if you think about it, at most people lose ten euro at most. Sometimes, people don’t go double or nothing and they get away with entertainment five euros richer. Besides, you don’t really have a way of knowing this, but I only operate in high-income areas where people can spare the money.”

“But still. Scamming is scamming.” Ludwig said.

Feliciano stopped shuffling. “I’m a man challenging people for money over three cards. I’m very clearly trying to hustle someone. If you fall for it, then you’re scamming yourself. I’m just the means by which you do it.”

Ludwig took a sip, unsure of what to say.

Feliciano drank his cappuccino. “I’m a nice man. I may not be a good one, but I’m a nice one. I pick up litter, I grab shopping carts left in grocery store parking lots and return them. I work the occasional soup kitchen. I just happen to scam people who can afford it.”

Ludwig looked down at his coffee. “It’s still scamming.”

“It is. But if I can have one vice, which I believe is equally balanced against the good I do, is scamming really that bad?”

“Perhaps not.” Ludwig replied. “I wish the world was black and white. I don’t like grays.”

“The world is never quite that simple.” Feliciano said.

Ludwig, unsure of how to reply, took another sip and watched people walk down the street. He wish he had thought to bring his dog with him.

“Thank you for sitting down with me.”

Ludwig looked over to Feliciano. “You’re welcome. Your story is very interesting. Where are you going next?”

“I haven’t been in Germany very long.” Feliciano answered. “It’s a gorgeous country. I may stay here for a couple weeks more and head off to France with my brothers.”

“If you have time, you should visit the Bradenburg Gate.”

“Oh?” Feliciano asked.

Ludwig nodded. “It is beautiful. It isn’t too far from here. Free admission. A good way to spend the morning.”

Feliciano smiled like he was holding a secret. “Perhaps I should.”

Ludwig smiled back, then quickly looked away. He wasn’t sure why he felt like he couldn’t make eye contact with Feliciano. Something deep in his stomach stirred and his heart beat a little faster. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he would definitely take time to analyze it further later.

“Would you mind taking our dishes into the café?” Feliciano asked.

Ludwig glanced down and noticed that Feliciano’s cup was empty. Ludwig tossed back the last of his coffee and grabbed Feliciano’s saucer. “Sure. I’ll be right back.”

“Looking forward to it.” Feliciano smiled that same secretive grin.

Ludwig waited in line to return his cups. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he felt disappointed at the thought of Feliciano leaving when he returned. He felt disappointed at the fact that he may not see him again. Perhaps he had found a friend in Feliciano. He briefly thought about exchanging contact information before he shook himself. The man was a con artist. They had talked for maybe half an hour, and here he was wanting to meet up with him again.

What was wrong with him?

He returned outside the café, surprised to see that Feliciano wasn’t there. He felt his heart fall in his chest. He was about to leave when he noticed a playing card sitting on the table. Just a single card. He stepped forward to grab it when a gust of wind carried it off. He sprinted forward to catch it as it flew, running past shops and brushing people as he ran. The wind suddenly whipped left, carrying the card with it. Ludwig lurched forward and caught it before it flew into the street. He took his foot off the street and turned it over in his hands, surprised to find writing on it in black marker.

Meet me at Bradenburg tomorrow. Coffee’s on you this time.

Despite himself, Ludwig smiled down at the card and his heart lifted once more.

#gerita #hetalia #hws gerita #aph gerita #gerita fanfic #aph germany #aph italy #aph england #aph police au #police au #con artist #hetalia fanfic #hetalia fic #gerita fic

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juliussneezerfics · 5 years ago

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Aight, Boys, We Did It!

Seriously, though, thanks bunches. Y’all are the best!

Also: Now that America is FINALLY doing something about the Coronavirus and I am camping out at home, send in requests and I can, like, actually get them done in a decent amount of time!

Wash your hands, stay inside, don’t hoard toilet paper.

Love y’all!

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juliussneezerfics · 5 years ago

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Turns out that in order to post my fics, I have to write them! Shocked and upset.

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juliussneezerfics · 5 years ago

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OH I THOUGHT IT WAS JUST TONI!!! CONSIDER MY SOCKS KNOCKED OFF.

Drawn Together: Chapter 11

Featuring a special character ;))

In his thinking about what he should do with his life now, Feliciano managed to fall asleep. If only for a short while.

“Toni is coming over! Make yourself presentable!” Lovino burst into his room, screaming and attempting to put some fancy leather pants on himself.

Feliciano turned around to face his brother. He loves his brother so much he would die for him, but if he wakes him up one more time… Feliciano wasn’t actually sure what he would do. Probably something mean and then apologise the second the deed is done.

He closed his eyes again, adjusting in his comfortable bed. “He’s your boyfriend. If anyone should look presentable, it’s you.”

“Don’t embarrass me, Feli.” Finally, those pants found themselves on Lovino’s legs. Damn, he needed to lose some weight. And try not to sit down. “Get ready and help me set the table. Midget is off somewhere.” After saying that, Lovino made his way downstairs.

Keep reading

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juliussneezerfics · 5 years ago

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Blood Red Lilies and Baby Blue Cornflowers: Chapter 14 - Epilogue

The true story, the happily-ever-after.

Ao3

****************

The beginning of their relationship was clumsy, but charmingly so. The two relished the honeymoon stage of their dating life, though Germany noticed little things about Italy that had annoyed him before the relationship had, unexpectedly, continued to annoy him. Little things like how he would leave his socks on the floor whenever he came over. He knew Italy felt the same way. At first, he had complained that Germany had seemed cold in their relationship and Germany had struggled to find ways to express himself. But he would pick up those socks with only little complaint, and Italy would endure Germany learning to love someone out loud. All was becoming well.

One day, about four months into their official relationship, Germany was confronted with Italy at the door, holding a vase of blue cornflowers.

“What’s this?” Germany asked, smiling slightly as Italy handed them over.

“Flowers! For you!” Italy answered with a grin.

“Is there any occasion?” Germany waved Italy into his house, setting the vase in the center of the counter and admiring them. He had never considered receiving flowers. So far, he could say he was a fan.

Italy avoided Germany’s gaze, coming around the counter next to him. He pressed his side into Germany’s, laying his head on Germany’s shoulder. “Nothing, really.”

Germany raised an eyebrow, still looking at the flowers. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Italy huffed out a sigh. “It’s stupid.”

“If you’re this spun up about it, it can’t be that stupid.” Germany assured. With the slightest bit of awkwardness, he turned his head and pressed a chaste kiss to the crown of Italy’s head.

Italy smiled in appreciation at the contact and Germany's attempt at expressing his affection.

“You can tell me.”

Italy lifted his head off of Germany’s shoulder, looking down at the counter. “I just thought… you know, you gave me all those flowers. I wanted to give you some for once.”

Germany blinked in question.

“Maybe that seems self-important, or- or weird, or whatever, but…” Italy looked up to Germany. “Me thinking of it that way kind of made it easier to cope with it when it was happening, I guess. It feels really selfish.”

Germany shook his head. “I don’t think it does. If you think about it, it kind of makes sense. In a way, I suppose I was giving you flowers.”

“I just…” Italy paused, unsure. His eyes searched Germany’s. “After all you went through, all the pain, all the waiting, me getting you flowers seems like the least I could do. You know?”

Germany tilted his head, staring down at the man he loved. At the man who loved him back so unconditionally. Who still felt guilty even now for something he had no control over. He held his arms open.

Italy buried himself in Germany’s chest, sighing as Germany’s arms wrapped around him.

“I love them.” Germany muttered into Italy’s hair. He felt Italy smile against his chest.

As they dated for years, as they finally got married, as they navigated marriage and their lives together, there was always a vase of cornflowers on the counter. When one began to wilt, another took its place. Though Germany was never one for frivolities, this was one that he never minded. And as he would stand at the counter making coffee every morning, he would stare at them as Italy padded behind him and hugged him from behind. Framed in the sunlight of their home, in the brightness of his life, he would smile to himself and shut his eyes, finding that he was thankful for every dreaded flower he had coughed up. For every petal, there seemed to be a year of happiness. And, Germany reflected, if coughing up flowers bought him this much happiness, he would have been content to cough them up forever for the sheer joy he felt every day with Italy.

#hetalia #aph germany #hws germany #hetalia germany #aph italy #hws italy #hetalia Italy #gerita #gerita fic #hetalia fic #aph gerita #hws gerita #juliussneezer fics

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juliussneezerfics · 5 years ago

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Take a Break

At long last, here you go! I hope I delivered!

Italy looked away from his phone toward his husband.

Germany was sitting in that cruddy office chair – Italy had tried repeatedly to make him get one with better lumbar support – his shoulders were hunched over, his eyes squinting through his reading glasses at the computer screen in front of him as he typed, and typed, and typed.

Italy lay on the bed several feet away from the work desk, scrolling absently through Instagram. He was trying to, at least. He found it hard to relax when he knew how long Germany had been working. After a few years of marriage, Italy had gotten Germany to relax a little more, but the man’s old habits seemed to come back whenever an important project found its way on his desk.

Italy gently tossed his phone to the other side of the bed. “Lud.”

“Hmm?” Germany asked, not glancing away from his computer screen.

Italy swung his legs over the side of his bed, standing up and pacing over. Blackie, who was laying at his master’s feet, lifted his head slightly. His tail beat against he floor gently as his tongue lolled out of his mouth. Italy planned on using whatever means possible to get Germany from that computer. He recalled a memory from early in their marriage when Italy had confronted Germany with complaints that he never told Italy that he loved him. Germany, confused, did the only thing he knew how. He researched.

He came back with a book and a plan, which included a personality quiz. Italy, loving quizzes, accepted the idea enthusiastically. Germany told him that it was a book about the love languages. While Italy’s love language was words of affirmation, Germany’s was – unexpectedly – physical touch and acts of service. Germany then explained to Italy that while Italy had been showering Germany in compliments and declarations of love, he had been expressing his affection to Italy through casual touches and occasionally doing Italy’s household chores.

Tapping into his knowledge of Germany’s love languages, Italy gently placed his hands on Germany’s shoulders. “Caro, you’ve been working too hard. You need to take a break.”

“It’s not done yet.” Germany muttered. Despite his words, the tension in his shoulders abated as Italy rubbed them lovingly.

“I know, but you’ve been working on it for…” Italy took a glance at the time on the clock. “God, Ludwig, you’ve been working on it since nine this morning and it’s five in the evening now!”

At this, Germany swiveled to face Italy. “I need to have this done by next Wednesday and I’ve hardly even begun.”

Italy frowned. “… that’s almost an entire week away. No offense, Luddy, but this speech has to be five minutes! What have you been doing?” He placed a hand on the desk and leaned forward.

“… writing.” Germany said. Almost as if searching for a distraction, he pushed his glasses further up his nose.

“Darling, you’ve written ten pages.”

“Every page is important.” Germany insisted.

Italy turned his head to face him. “Really? Do you plan to read it on fast-forward like an auctioneer or something?”

Germany swiveled back to face the screen. “I was working on shortening it.”

Italy turned away from the computer. “You can shorten it tomorrow. You need some rest.”

“Once I cut it back to eight pages.” Ludwig insisted.

Italy huffed out a sigh but turned and walked away. “You’re lucky I need to feed the dogs, or I’d keep arguing with you.”

Germany didn’t respond, responding only with the tapping of his computer keys as Italy made his way down the stairs.

Italy padded into the living room, followed closely by Blackie. He made his way over to the living room, opening the coat closet and grabbing the container that held the dog food. He rattled the container, the noise answered with the scratching of dog nails against the hard wood floors. Italy cringed. He had been trying to persuade Germany to carpet the floors. There wasn’t enough wood polish in the world to fix the harm those dogs had inflicted on the beautiful hardwood floors. He gently pushed through the three dogs crowding around him, dumping the proper measurement of food into each bowl. He put away the food, turning and standing with his hands on his hip as he watched the dogs scarf up their dinner.

“What are we supposed to do about Ludwig, hmm?” Italy asked. His words went largely ignored as he padded back up the stairs, pushing the door to their bedroom open. He was halfway to the bed when he changed course, slinking over to the desk. With one hand on the back of the chair, he swiveled Germany around to face him.

Germany, surprised as he spun, settled when he faced his husband.

Italy, with his hand still on the back of his chair, leaned forward. The momentum from his lean pushed the chair back against the desk.

Germany raised an eyebrow, un-phased. “Uh-oh. I know that face.”

“Come on.” Italy murmured. He grabbed the loosened tie that Germany had on, pulling him forward until their noses were almost touching. He tilted his head, his eyes half-closed. “Take a break? For me?”

Germany pulled out of his grasp, smiling slightly. “That won’t work this time.” He gently lifted Italy’s hand off the chair before he swiveled back to face his desk.

Italy dropped the act, huffing in frustration and collapsing on the bed. “Worked when we first got married!”

Again, Germany didn’t bother responding.

Italy, struck with another idea, reached over and grabbed his sketchbook off the bedside table. After he finished, he ripped the few pages out of the sketchbook. He strode over to Germany and collapsed into his lap.

“Wh- Feliciano, what are you doing?”

Italy adjusted himself until he was settled in Germany’s lap, his legs hanging over the arm of the chair. “Okay. While you have been working, I’ve also been working on something.”

“Oh?” Ludwig asked, looking down at him.

“A power point.” Feliciano said, showing him the first of his pages. “The title is: Why Ludwig Should Stop Working and Spend Time With Me: A Presentation by Feliciano.”

“Very catchy.” Germany said. “Aren’t power points usually done on a screen, not on watercolor paper?”

Feliciano rolled his eyes, smiling. “It’s rude to interrupt someone when they’re presenting.”

“Right, sorry.” Germany took off his reading glasses, gently laying them on the desk. “Continue.”

He shuffled the title page to the back, presenting the second slide. “Reason number one: Because I love you.”

Germany nodded, frowning as if he were seriously considering the presentation.

Italy inwardly smirked. He knew that if Germany was playing along to his little joke, there was hope after all. He shuffled the papers to the next slide. “Reason number two: Please.” He lowered the papers to his lap. “I will now be taking questions.”

Germany raised his hand, an eyebrow raised.

“Yes.” Italy pointed to the raised hand. “The tall, handsome man has a question?”

Germany lowered his hand, smiling. “Where do you come up with these things?”

“Beats me.” Italy shrugged. “I knew the way to your heart would be through a Power point presentation.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Germany protested. “You wore me down.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that…”

“You pushed, and pushed, and you wore me away until I had no choice but to say I would take a break.” Germany continued without any bite.

“I’ll ignore that first part for now.” Italy said, laughing. “Did you just say you would take a break?”

Germany gazed over at his computer screen. “I can’t do anything productive in this mindset.” He admitted. He reached forward and minimized the window.

“So… I was right?” Italy asked.

Germany smirked down at him. “Perhaps just this once.”

Italy stood out of his lap, smiling. “Just once?”

“Miracles do sometimes happen.” Germany continued, slipping off his tie as he stood.

“Fine, then.” Italy smiled, walking out of the bedroom. “You can take that break by yourself, then.”

Germany laughed, knowing Italy didn’t mean it. He followed Italy out the door. “Like you would leave me alone after trying so hard to get me off the computer.”

Italy stopped at the top of the stairs, smiling. “Okay, you got me. Called my bluff. Do you want me to make you something for dinner?”

“You want to make dinner?” Ludwig asked, surprised. Usually he was the one who made dinner.

Italy turned around, making his way down the stairs. “You’ve been working hard. I think you need loved on a little bit.”

Ludwig followed, smiling to himself. How had he gotten so lucky? “Bratwurst would be nice.”

“You don’t need that much love.” Italy responded, laughing.

Germany laughed also, looking forward to a break with his husband and his dogs. With his family.

#hetalia #aph hetalia #hws hetalia #hetalia fic #gerita #aph gerita #hws gerita #gerita fic #gerita fanfic #aph germany #hws germany #aph italy #hws italy #fluff #fluff fic #hetalia fluff #JuliusSneezerFics

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juliussneezerfics · 5 years ago

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Hi! I'm miserable at promoting my fics and you seem like you know what you're doing, so do you have any tips?

Well, shoot, man, glad I give off that impression! XD

I’m not a pro, but these are some tips that I found helpful:

1: Have a fic blog on Tumblr. Having a dedicated blog to your fics is so helpful! It’s a direct feed that your regular readers have of your works, kind of like grouping all of an author’s works together in a library. Posting them on your personal blog is good and all (I did that starting out), but it’s less streamlined when you have other posts in with your fics.

2: Have a link to your Ao3 profile that you post in your fics on Tumblr. I don’t know how many people actually end up clicking it, but it’s more pleasing to the eye to read it on Ao3

3: Whenever you can, mention that you have a Tumblr where you post your fics to. Again, it’s more of an extra little detail

4: Follow other fanfic writers and encourage them. Not only is this super nice of you to do, but it also makes you more prominent in the fandom as well as getting other writers to notice you and your works. This means occasionally reblogging their fics, shouting out others, that kind of thing.

5: See if you can get fic requests. It’s super fun to write little drabbles, plus you’ll get more followers through one-shots and casual works than through multi-chapter fics.

That’s all I have for now. Good luck with all your fics!

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juliussneezerfics · 5 years ago

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Drawn Together: Chapter 10

Last chapter of the Silence in Venice bits.

’“Mother, you can’t do that!”

“Yes! I can! I’m the queen in this castle! You have to obey me!”

“Why do you hate her so much?! She never did anything to you! You can’t lock her up like that! Let her go, I promise we-”

“Oh, don’t give me those promises! We both know you’re not going to keep them! You’re mad for her! She stays locked!”

“No!”

“That’s the end of it, Otto! I’m busy. And you’ll never see your servant girlfriend ever again, so I suggest you start working out a royal replacement for her.”

Keep reading

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juliussneezerfics · 5 years ago

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Blood Red Lilies and Baby Blue Cornflowers: Chapter 13 - Realizations

At last, a realization.

Ao3

***********************

A week and a half later, Germany and his brother were sitting in the living room. Prussia sat in the easy chair, hunched over his phone. Germany assumed he was posting an update about the new dog which, contrary to his belief, Prussia was thrilled by. Germany sat on the floor with the puppy, a bag of dog treats between his crossed legs as he attempted to teach her new tricks. Lined up on the couch, the other three dogs watched with incredible interest. At least, they watched Germany’s hand.

“Andrea, sit.”

Andrea stared quizzically up at Germany, her eyes on the treat in his hand. Learning about treats was the quickest lesson she learned.

Germany furrowed his brow. “Sit, Andrea.” He heard a clatter, looking over at Prussia.

Prussia had dropped his phone onto the floor, staring at Germany with blatant shock.

Germany raised an eyebrow. “Something wrong, Gilbert?”

Prussia blinked. “I…” he recovered, trying for a winning smile. “Nothing. Just realized something.”

“What?” Germany raised an eyebrow.

Prussia leaned down to pick up his phone, sitting back in his chair with what could only be described as an ecstatic energy. “Nothing. I don’t know. No, I don’t want to share. Guess you’ll figure it out soon enough.”

“What’s that even supposed to mean?” Germany asked, frustrated.

Prussia merely shrugged to himself, beaming down at his phone. He snickered to himself.

Germany shot a glare at his brother, distracted from his frustration as Andrea lurched forward and snatched the dog treat from his hand.

Several days passed, Germany almost completely forgetting about the odd exchange that had transpired. They passed as usual, with paperwork and exercise, with meals and baking, with walking the dogs and reading books in the sunlight. With thinking of Italy. Seeing him in everything that surrounded him. Looking at the autumn scenery around his house and considering how much Italy would like it. Setting down his beer bottle when working outside and noticing that the sun, when it shined through it, was the exact color of Italy's eyes. Playing fetch with Andrea and wishing he had invited Italy over to enjoy it with him. While it was crazy to Germany that he was thinking about him to this much, at this point it didn't surprise him. It was a new normal in his world.

A week later, It was around midnight. Prussia was off doing something, but Germany wasn’t sure what. He was sure that it would end up with him driving somewhere to pick him up, Prussia being completely drunk off his ass and giggling to himself. He was feeling rather drowsy, reading on the couch in sweat pants and a sweatshirt when he heard tires squeal in his driveway. Germany froze in his seat. Was Prussia driving drunk? It was severely out of character for him, but stranger things have happened. Fearful, he bolted out of his seat, fast-walking to the door just as the doorbell rang. He whipped the door open. Expecting Prussia, he was somewhat surprised when he saw the top of a head. He looked down a couple inches, seeing Italy.

Italy was flushed, in his pajamas, and looking somewhere between exhilarated and terrified. His reddish hair looked slightly tangled. Germany noticed the windows to his car were open.

“Italy, what-”

“I’m in love with you!” Italy blurted out. "I realized it a few minutes ago, but I don't know how long I was!"

Germany blinked. “What-?”

“I’m in love with your eyes, and your hair whether it’s down or up, but mostly down. I’m in love with the way you move, and how you walk, and how you speak. I’m in love with your voice, the way you carry yourself, and- and how you smile when you think no-one’s looking.” Italy took a deep breath, like the confession was stealing the air from his lungs. “I’m in love with how kind you are, and how much you care for me and the other people you love. I’m in love with your patience, and the way you see potential in me when I have given you no damn reason to hold on in the first place. I’m in- I- I love you, and I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to be.”

“I…” Germany paused. “You- you love me?”

Italy nodded. “I’m almost certain! Have…” his smile faltered. “Have you still been coughing? Please tell me you haven’t.”

Germany stared off. He then remembered Prussia’s ‘realization’. He smiled to himself. “No. How did I not realize?” He looked back up at Italy, feeling this indescribable joy within himself. “You really-?”

Italy launched forward, wrapping his arms around Germany, nestling his head underneath his chin. “Yes, yes! I do!” He pulled away. “I do… so much.”

Germany looked down at Italy, smiling, unguarded.

Italy reached up and, grabbing Germany’s head, pulling his lips down to his.

Germany’s eyes flared open in surprise, slipping closed as his arms wrapped around Italy’s waist. He pulled Italy’s body flush upon his own, making it his complete life goal at that time to enjoy everything about that moment. Remember it and file it away into his permanent memory forever. Italy’s smell. The way his hair felt in Germany’s hands as he slipped his fingers through it. The pull of the fabric of Germany’s jacket as Italy gripped it in his hands, pulling Germany closer against him. Germany was so engrossed in the moment, he failed to hear a car drive up.

“Whooo!”

Germany pulled away and leapt apart from Italy, seeing Prussia standing out of the sunroof of France’s car.

“Yeah!” Prussia crowed, pumping a fist in the air. “That’s my brother!”

France stopped the car, smiling. “Shit, Prussia, you didn’t tell us Italy would be here!”

Spain rotated in the front seat to face France. “Drive away, drive away! Give them privacy!”

“I’m trying!” France put the car in reverse.

Prussia almost doubled over the roof of the car with the speed France reversed the car, slamming his head on the roof of the car. “Agh! Mother of God!”

The car stopped.

Spain cursed. “You okay, Prussia?”

Prussia just whimpered in pain.

Italy turned to look up at Germany.

Germany turned, meeting his gaze.

Italy broke into a snicker at the scene, Germany following close behind.

Germany looked at him. Let his eyes roam over Italy's face as he laughed. At the flush on his cheeks at being found in the midst of their confession. He saw all this and tried to remember. Tried to memorize every little detail.

“Do you want to take this inside?” Italy asked through laughter.

Germany looked at his brother and his friends, shaking his head. “I would love to.”

Italy started toward the door, holding out an expectant hand.

Germany looked at it. Considered it. It almost seemed too good to be true. As he listened to the idiotic laughter behind him and looked up at Italy, framed in the golden light of the house, he let his hand fall into Italy’s and discovered it was very much real as the long, narrow fingers grasped his own. And, pulling him, Italy led Germany into their future together.

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juliussneezerfics · 5 years ago

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Blood Red Lilies and Baby Blue Cornflowers: Chapter 12 - Healing

At last, a conversation occurs.

Ao3

*************************

For the next several weeks it was the same for Germany. He died the next week, had a couple days free of that dreaded itch in his throat, then coughed his lungs out. Multiple times. Japan seemed extremely interested in getting the three of them together, but Germany found that he was turning down the invitations. He didn’t want to push Italy into an unwanted confrontation. But he found his patience waning as more and more time passed. There was a Euro meeting that week and Germany was miraculously well enough to attend. He was still coughing frequently, but he was certain that at that point most, if not all the European nations knew to some degree what was going on. He dreaded the answer to that silent question, keeping it to himself. He hazarded a subtle glance to Italy after the meeting, hoping for any sign that Italy was ready to approach him. For any change in his posture. Italy had caught his eye, regarding Germany with a strange, unreadable expression. Though Italy wore his heart on his sleeve, he had appeared to do a good job of keeping his emotions under wraps.

Italy’s back was turned at this moment, however, chatting to his brother about someplace to go for lunch. Germany was disappointed, but not surprised as he packed away his laptop. Japan’s words to him echoed in his mind, telling him he couldn't stay silent forever. He had to take action somehow. But he could not choke back the fear of being rejected again. Of making a wrong step. Or annihilating whatever fragile progress they had made by approaching Italy. He had to leave.

Germany left the building, his mind scrambling to think of anything except the man he left behind in that conference room. Thinking about paperwork. Cleaning. His dogs needed bathed and their hair cut. Italy needed a hair cut. It was just a tad bit too long, reaching to the nape of his neck. Those hairs curled slightly when they got that long. Germany determinedly shook away the thought, coughing into his elbow. He finally pushed out of the building, descending the steps and trying to remember what floor of the parking garage he parked on.

“Germany!”

Germany froze at the bottom of the steps. He knew that voice. Loved it. Dreaded it. Needed it. Hesitantly, he turned around.

Italy, who had originally stood at the top of the steps, descended swiftly, multiple papers flying out of his arms as he bolted down to where Germany was. He almost tripped on an untied shoelace, but recovered and skidded to a halt in front of Germany.

Italy huffed in breaths as he rambled. “Germany, I- I need you to listen. I know I should probably keep giving you space, and I know you’re probably not ready to talk. But… I’m sick of this! I’m sick of not being your friend anymore! I miss you, Germany, and… even if I can’t- can’t fall in love with you, I want to be with you as a friend. I’m sorry you can’t be to me what I am to you, but if you’ll have me, I want to be your friend again! And you were right, you don’t owe me any kind of explanation! I was just scared, and mad, and I wanted something to hold on to, I guess, but it was none of my business! Even if it was about me, that’s private and I don’t know why I felt like I needed to know! I talked to Japan, and he agreed with me! And he’s also sick of us not all being friends! But this part doesn’t involve him, Germany, because this is your decision. So… so if you want me as your friend, I will be that to you.”

Germany blinked, trying to process the rapid-fire words. “So… you were giving me space?”

“Yeah.” Italy nodded, still breathing heavily. “Romano said it was a good idea.”

Despite himself, Germany could feel himself smile slightly. “I was giving you space, too. Hungary told me to.”

Italy also smiled timidly. “I wanted to talk to you the minute I left.”

“I wanted to, as well.” Germany coughed.

Italy laughed to himself, running a hand through his hair. “All of this was completely unnecessary, huh?”

“I suppose it was.” Germany agreed, adjusting his computer bag.

Italy looked down at his shoes, uncharacteristically quiet. “D’you want to call Japan and see if we can all get lunch?”

“Yeah.” Germany nodded, coughing into his hand through a smile. “I would like that very much.”

Italy pulled out his phone, grinning. “I think he would like that even more. He’s probably exhausted with us.”

“I wouldn’t blame him.” Germany said, waving Italy alongside him as he began the trek back to his car. He coughed into a gloved hand. “I’m exhausted with us too.”

Italy beamed, following his friend as he dialed Japan’s number. “I’m excited for lunch, Germany. The three of us have so much to catch up on!”

“We do, don’t we?” Germany smiled timidly to himself, following Italy as he called Japan.

The friendship, though timid, was eventually back to normal. The three of them were thick as thieves once again, meeting up constantly. They bounced between each other’s houses, restaurants, and bars. Much to Italy’s dismay, Germany attempted to get the three back on an exercise regimen. Though they seemed to have become accustomed to Germany’s cough, they hung out less frequently than they did before Germany got sick. Many of Germany’s days were, after all, spent in bed. Occasionally, Japan would come by to keep him company. Italy, however, always had something going on coincidentally whenever Germany was bed-bound. It could be said that Germany was emotionally dense, but he knew that it was a sense of guilt that drove his unreciprocated love away from him. As time went by, however, it was an arrangement that everyone had gotten accustomed to. Even Germany had almost forgotten what it was to live without flowers growing in his lungs, spreading like a tumor through his near indestructible body.

It was about a year later when Italy and Germany were walking down a street in Berlin, having just gone out for lunch. Japan was absent, having gone to Greece’s for a visit. It was autumn, the two of them walking down a cobblestone street. An atmospheric wind caressed them as they walked, fallen leaves scraping and bouncing against the uneven ground. The air smelled faintly dank as they walked. This caused Germany to pause and peer into the grey, overcast sky.

“It looks like it’s going to rain. Do you know what the forecast was for today, Italy?” Germany’s breath steamed into the air as he spoke.

Italy also gazed into the sky, frowning. He drew his newsboy cap further down over his forehead. “Why would I? It's not my country.”

Germany glanced over to his friend, frowning slightly before he shrugged. “Point taken.” He continued the walk, picking up the pace slightly. “Perhaps we can make it back to my place before it rains.”

Almost as if on cue, a roll of thunder followed his words. Germany glared. “Perfect.”

A sheet of rain fell upon them, Italy screaming as the two looked at each other and began bolting down the sidewalk. They received questioning, pitying glances from those cozy inside the shops and passing cars as they ran, the back of Germany’s trench coat hitting his heels. It was becoming heavy on his frame, but did not yet soak through with rain. He glanced over to his compatriot, who was surprisingly keeping a steady pace with him. “Why can’t you run this fast while we’re training?!” He bellowed over the sound of rain hitting brick.

Italy watched ahead as he ran, though a smile split onto his face. “Proper motivation will do that!” His hair looked dark brown, his bangs plastered to his forehead despite his hat. His tan jacket was almost completely soaked through, but this appeared to do nothing to dampen his spirits.

Germany smiled to himself at the response. They ran for a little longer before Germany happened to spot something in his periphery. He frowned, slowing to a stop. Was that… fur? He turned to look down the alleyway, turning his head fractionally as he heard Italy’s voice.

“Germany? Why’d you stop?! We’re going to get colds!” His voice was far enough to tell Germany that it took a minute for Italy to realize Germany had stopped.

Germany turned his head over. “I think I see something.” He walked toward the alleyway, his approach slowing.

Italy, close behind him, gasped at what he saw.

A puppy, hunched in a pitiful shelter of soaked cardboard, stared dejectedly up at them. Its ribs, visible through its rust colored fur, seemed even more prominent against soaked skin.

Germany crouched down slowly. “Easy… it’s okay.” His voice was so soft that he wondered if the dog could hear it over the rain.

The puppy apparently could, its ears perking up slightly.

Germany cautiously reached a hand out. “How long have you been out here, huh?”

The puppy poked a tiny snout out of his shelter, sniffing Germany’s gloved hand.

“House trained.” Germany realized, reaching out to pet the puppy on the head.

The puppy pressed into Germany’s gloved hand like it was touch starved, its tail wagging so hard its entire rear end followed its progress.

“Wait, so it was just left here by its owner?” Italy asked, his voice laden with pity.

Germany slowly withdrew his hand and shed his coat, coughing into his elbow. “Seems like it. It’s very trusting of me.”

As Germany took his hand back, the puppy followed it, sniffing.

“Poor thing.” Italy crooned.

Germany reached forward, grabbing the puppy by the stomach. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He drew the puppy to his chest, straightening into a standing position.

The puppy reached up with its snout, licking every part of Germany it could reach. It lapped at his jaw, his neck, even the hand that held him.

Germany chuckled at his efforts. “Easy there. Let’s just get you something to eat, huh?” He glanced up at Italy.

Italy was looking at Germany with some kind of unreadable expression, an easy smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“What?” Germany asked, wrapping the puppy in his coat.

“It’s just sweet, you know? Are you going to keep it?”

Germany hummed to himself, holding the bundle to his chest. He smiled. “I’d have to ask Prussia first… then keep it regardless of his answer.” He looked back up at Italy. “Let’s take it home.”

Italy smiled.

The two raced into Germany’s house, Germany clutching the bundled up puppy to his chest and leaning against the door. He brushed his wet bangs away from his face. “That,” he huffed. “Was a waste of hair gel.”

Italy laughed, toeing off his shoes and taking his hat off. “Yeah.” He wrung water out of his hat. “What a waste of a nice outfit.”

Germany smiled slightly, hearing the distant barking of his dogs. He looked down at the puppy in his arms. “I hope it’s been around big dogs before.”

Italy shed his jacket, shivering. “I’m sure it’ll be okay. Maybe they’ll be good playmates!”

The dogs’ nails scratched against the floorboards as they bolted toward their master, slowing down and quieting, sniffing as they realized something was different.

Germany crouched down, opening the bundle slightly to reveal the pitiful puppy. “Easy, now.” He warned his dogs.

Aster poked his head forward, sniffing the puppy with interest. His tail started wagging. The two others followed his lead, each with similar reactions.

“And you were worried!” Italy said, crouching down to greet Germany’s dogs. “Where’s Prussia?”

“At Austria and Hungary’s.” Germany answered. “So I guess he can’t tell me we can’t have another dog.”

“Guess not.” Italy said, with a smile. He shuddered.

“Cold?” Germany asked.

Italy nodded. “I’m fine. I just have to wait for my clothes to dry.”

Germany straightened again. “No, you can just borrow some of mine. I’ll run upstairs and grab some. Make yourself comfortable.”

“Thanks!” Italy said, also straightening. As Germany thundered up the stairs, he made his way to the living room and sat down on the floor of the living room.

The dogs followed his progress, sniffing at his arms as if they were looking for another puppy.

Italy chuckled, reaching forward and petting all the dogs in turn. “You all excited for a new playmate?” He rubbed his arms, peering over at the fireplace. “You think Germany would be too upset if I built a fire for us?” He reached forward and scrunched Berlitz’s face together, smiling at the wrinkles. “Do you? I think it’ll be okay.”

He got up off the floor with a slight grunt, picking up a sheet of newspaper from a neat pile in the cabinet. He also grabbed several pieces of tinder from a basket. “Where’s the lighter?” Italy asked, rummaging around the cabinet. He frowned and stood, the dogs following Italy with interest as he made his way over to the hat stand. Prussia’s faux leather jacket hung on there, likely left behind out of fear of ruining it. Italy reached into a pocket. He pulled out a blue cigarette lighter and frowned. “Prussia started his smoking habit again, huh?” He glanced over at the dogs. “What do you say we hide his cigarettes again, huh?”

Blackie pressed his head into Italy’s hand.

Italy grinned, reaching back into the pocket. Nothing. He searched the other, just finding some loose change. He frowned, turning to the fireplace. “Maybe when he comes back with them.”

Soon enough, a fire was crackling. The heat seeped into Italy’s wet clothes. He hummed as he heard Germany’s loud footsteps down the stairs.

“They’re not the nicest. Sorry.” Germany apologized, handing Italy a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt.

Italy accepted the pile with gratitude, looking up at Germany. “No problem at all! They’re warm, they’re dry, those are my standards for now.” He stood up, making his way to the bathroom. Before Germany got sick, he would have just changed right then and there. But since Italy learned about Germany’s malady, there had been minute changes in their relationship. They haven’t shared a bed since. Italy hasn’t changed in front of him. Italy’s comments about Germany’s muscles had been altogether forgotten.

Germany was left alone with the puppy in his arms. The dogs crowded around him, sniffing curiously. The puppy, though timid, didn’t seem altogether upset with the attention.

Italy padded down the stairs, absolutely swimming in the clothes Germany provided. “Do you want to change? You’re still in your wet clothes.”

Germany glanced down at his T-shirt, which was clinging to his body uncomfortably. “Yes. Thank you. Would you mind holding the puppy? I’ll take the other dogs to my room so the puppy can eat by itself and not worry about the others stealing its food.”

Italy reached forward, his hands opening and closing excitedly. “Yes! Please let me hold it! It’s so cute!”

Germany handed over the bundle, whistling sharply and grunting a German command. The dogs followed him up the stairs and into his spotless room. He shut the door behind him and locked it, pulling off his short and draping it onto his desk. He didn’t want to throw a wet shirt into the laundry and make the rest of his clothes smell bad. He pulled on a dry blank, white t-shirt and another pair of sweatpants. He finished, looking in the mirror. His hair was completely undone. Without any product in it, a few awkward waves were prominent in his bangs. He groaned. “With these clothes and this hair, I look ridiculous.” He looked over to his dogs.

The three of them were sitting on their bed. Blackie was already asleep.

“Stay in here. I’ll get you in a bit.” He left the room, descending the steps once again. He appeared in the living room, stopping in the doorway and leaning against the door frame.

Italy sat on the sofa, his legs crossed. He was softly singing some kind of Italian song to the dog, pausing and chuckling when the dog would wriggle out of its bundle and plant its front paws on his chest, licking his face. “Stop! Your breath is so gross!” Draped in Germany’s clothes, it looked almost… domestic. Germany’s heart clenched painfully in his chest, but he dismissed the feeling. Not now. He could think about that later. They had a puppy to feed.

#hetalia #aph hetalia #hws hetalia #aph germany #hws germany #gerita #aph gerita #hws gerita #aph italy #hws italy #hetalia italy #hetalia germany #fluff #gerita fic #gerita fanfic #hetalia fic #hetalia fanfic #juliussneezer fics

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juliussneezerfics · 5 years ago

Text

Solitude

Your wish is my command. I don’t really know exactly what you wanted here, but I hope I do it justice! I know this probably isn’t as funny as what you were asking for, but it was the only way I could think to write it in character!

Feel free to send in your fic requests! If you want to, specify if you want fluff, angst, anything!

Italy sat at his dining room table, idly sipping a cup of coffee. He hadn’t even gotten dressed for the day, gazing out the window as a cardinal flew past, relishing the wind. Italy drained the dregs of his coffee, standing and shuffling his feet across the cold tiled floor of his dining room, into the kitchen. He rinsed out his cup, idly singing a song under his breath and placing the cup in the dishwasher. He was just about to head upstairs to get dressed hen he heard his phone ring from the table. Italy paced over to the table, smiling as he read the caller I.D. onscreen.

“Good afternoon, Germany! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Ah, Italy…” Germany’s tone, despite being made tinny by the speakers, was obviously unsure. “I’ve made us some cake and coffee… would you like to eat them together?”

“At your house?” Italy asked, pounding up the stairs. “Of course I would! I still have to get dressed for the day, but I’d love to come over! I’ll be there in about twenty minutes!” Italy entered his room, pulling open his sock drawer.

“Oh, I see!” Germany grunted slightly as someone snickered in the background. “Wait just a moment!”

Italy, distracted by hopping around the room while he pulled on a sock, didn’t quite hear Germany. “Okay, see you in a bit!” He hung up, tossing his phone on the bed.

On the other end, Germany sighed and hung up the phone.

“Did he hang up on you, West?” Prussia asked, pacing into the kitchen.

“He sounded distracted.” Germany said, gathering the dishes on the counter and putting them int eh sink of hot water.

Prussia slunk over to the counter, grinning. “Don’t blame him! Who wouldn’t be after hearing you made your apple cake! Can I have a slice?”

“No.” Germany snapped, scrubbing the pan. “We have to wait for Italy.”

“Why would we? We never-” A look of dawning realization came upon Prussia’s features. “Oh, I see.”

“See what?” Germany grunted, focusing far too much on his wooden spoon.

“You want everything to be just perfect. Usually, you wouldn’t care if I just took a tiny slice. You like Italy, don’t you?”

Germany furrowed his brow at the dishes, not turning around. Prussia’s voice had taken on a very strange tone. “Of course I do. We are friends.”

“You know very well what I mean.”

Germany paused his scrubbing. He licked his lips, trying to think of something to say. He went back to his washing. “You make sure the living room is clean. We have a guest coming over.”

“The living room is always clean.” Prussia grumbled, walking away. He shut the door to the living room, standing in place as he processed the rather one-sided conversation he had just been a part of. He sat on the couch, resting his elbows on his thighs. Now, this made things complicated.

So. It appeared both him and his brother had fallen for North Italy.

What now?

The selfish part of Prussia wanted to have Italy for himself. After all, he had sacrificed so much for Ludwig, didn’t he? Raising him, teaching him to be a nation, and look how he turned out. A wonderful man, thanks to his teachings.

A wonderful man…

Prussia sighed. Who was he kidding? There was no way he could outright steal Italy from his brother in clear conscience. There was no way. But he also couldn’t fall victim to heartbreak. After living as long as he has, heartbreak got old very quickly. First losing Elizabeta to Roderich, and now…

He had been selfless then, right? He had seen that the two had loved each other and he had stayed out of their way.

But Italy did not love Germany… did he?

Prussia stood and paced the room. Did Italy love Germany? He was very touchy with him, sure, but he was that way to everybody. Discerning the romantic attachments of an Italian was almost as difficult as distinguishing a British man’s good friend from his acquaintance.

But if Italy did not love Germany. Then… did Prussia have a chance? Prussia stopped. Approached the window and looked out at their front lawn. Down the driveway. Therein lived the key to solving their little problem, right? There it was, right in Prussia’s gloved fingertips.

If Italy did not love one brother or the other, then surely, he was fair game. He knew that Ludwig was no idiot. He knew that if Prussia were to begin competing with him for Italy, then Germany would know and do the same. The two of them competing for Italy’s affection. Surely, this was fine. More than fair.

Prussia swallowed the slight feeling of discomfort that rose in his chest, allowing himself to enjoy, just for a moment, the peace of finding a solution.

About ten minutes later, Italy finally arrived.

Prussia bolted down the stairs, his clothes ironed, his hair combed… he had put on a little dab of cologne against his better judgement. As far as he was concerned, he was as ready as he could be. He rushed past his brother in an attempt to get to the door. “’Scuse me!”

He wrenched open the door, the doorbell not even fading out before he saw the face of Italy.

Italy was dressed casually but refined. A button-up shirt French-tucked into a pair of skinny jeans, his hair combed. His cologne, sweet but masculine, reached through Prussia’s nose and clenched its fingers around his heart and squeezed.

“Italy!” Prussia greeted, ignoring the pang in his chest.

“Prussia!” Italy lurched forward, wrapping Prussia in a hug. “How are you doing?”

“Better now that you’re here, Italy!” Prussia allowed himself the indulgence of scanning Italy up and down once again. “You’re looking good!”

“You’re looking good too, Gilbert! Did you do something different with your hair?”

Prussia reached up and brushed the thin strands sheepishly. “Eh, not really.”

Italy peered over Prussia’s shoulder, his face lighting up as he saw Germany. “Germany! Thank you for inviting me over! How are you doing?”

Italy passed Prussia and reached up, pulling Germany down for a hug.

“I’m doing fine, how are you?” Germany peered over Italy’s shoulder, frowning at Prussia. A silent question.

Prussia looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. If Prussia had happened to glance over at Germany again, he would have seen the glinting realization of what was going on. A harsh glint of what could have been jealousy, grief, or a toxic mix of the two.

Italy pulled away, beaming up at Germany. “It was so nice of you to invite me over for cake! I do so love your cake, Germany. Your coffee, too! Though I admit, it’s not quite up to par with Italian coffee.”

“Best coffee in the world, right?” Prussia asked, walking over to the two. “At least, that’s what I’ve heard.”

“Have you never had it?” Italy asked, surprised.

“Can’t say I have!” Prussia answered. “Perhaps you could take me to a couple Italian coffee shops sometime and give me my overdue education!”

Italy clapped his hands together delighted. “Oh, that would be wonderful! We should set that up sometime!” He beamed. “Now. Where is this cake of yours?”

Germany waved Italy toward the dining room, furrowing his brow at Prussia. The gaze wasn’t antagonistic, or even heated. It was more… betrayed. Disappointed.

Prussia hardened himself against the gaze. No. He had raised Germany from the ground up. He had never felt the pleasure of love and being loved in return. The concept was well overdue. And if it just happened to be Italy who provided that experience then… well… there were plenty of fish in the sea. Ludwig was a handsome man, surely it would be no struggle. Prussia crossed into the kitchen, starting up a conversation with Italy.

The three sat at the table, the slices of cake long since eaten.

Germany pushed himself from the table. “I’ll just excuse myself for a moment.”

“Okay,” Italy said. “We’ll be waiting for you!”

Germany left the room, leaving the two of them behind.

Italy immediately turned to Prussia, his brow furrowed. “Is Germany acting strange to you?”

Prussia swallowed, raising his coffee cup to his lips. It was empty. It didn’t matter. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh. I guess it’s just me, then.” Italy said, turning his head to look out the dining room window.

“You’re really kind.” Prussia said.

Italy turned his head to Prussia. “Hmm?”

“You’re very kind. Thoughtful. You put others before yourself.” Prussia leaned back in his chair. “That’s pretty awesome of you.”

Italy raised an eyebrow, resting his elbows against the table. “The awesome Prussia calling me awesome? I’m honored!”

“You should be.” Prussia said. His voice had… changed. Become softer. “You’re awesome.”

Italy’s gaze returned once again to the window. “You’re very sweet.”

Germany returned, three wine glasses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. “I thought we could have a glass of wine.”

“Oh, that would be perfect!” Italy grinned. “Thank you, Germany!”

“Of course.” Germany rested the glasses on the table, pouring out an amount for the each of them. His own serving was noticeably smaller.

Italy took a sip, his gaze brightening. He lowered the glass. “What wine is this?”

Germany too lowered his glass. “Oh. Antinori.”

“No kidding!” Italy cried. “That’s my favorite wine!”

“Oh, really?” Germany asked, evidently surprised. “I’m glad you like it!”

Prussia studied Germany over the rim of his glass. Germany didn’t like wine. Hated red wine. Never drank it of his own accord. Even now as he sipped it, his disgust was only thinly-veiled. This was too strange to have been a coincidence. Germany had planned to have the bottle in his house when Italy came over. Prussia took a rather large swig out of his glass, hoping it would get rid of the bitter taste in his mouth. Hopefully it would take affect soon.

The three then walked in the yard, about the enter the back woods. They made their way into the forest, silent as they observed the sun peeking through the leaves and listened to the birds singing their songs.

Prussia happened to glance down at the ground, grinning as he spotted a pretty pink flower growing out of the ground. He plucked it, rushing forward to Italy’s side. “Hey, look what I found!”

“Oh, Prussia, that’s lovely!” Italy crooned.

Prussia pushed it behind Italy’s ear, brushing his soft hair with his fingers as he did. “It brings out your eyes.”

“Oh, you’re so sweet! Thank you, Prussia.” Italy grinned at Prussia, his long fingers brushing the petals of the flower.

“Of course! It’s the least I could do for the awesome Italy!” Prussia happened to catch a glimpse of his brother. He was looking away, apparently seeing something very interesting in the distance.

“Did you know that the tale of Hansel and Gretel was written by a German?” Germany asked, speaking very swiftly.

Italy turned to Germany, surprised. “Oh, really?”

Prussia furrowed his brow. Italy had been around for a very long time. He could recite his entire history in extreme detail, as well as the history of Japan and Germany. There was no way Italy didn’t know.

“Yes.” Germany said.

“It’s been a while since I’ve heard it.” Italy looked at Germany pleadingly. “Could you please tell it to me?”

The corners of Germany’s mouth lifted. “Of course I can.”

Germany told the story, his words occasionally punctuated by the amazed murmurings of Italy. Prussia stared ahead into the forest. Ludwig may not have been an idiot, but neither was he.

That evening, he stood in the shower for longer than usual. He didn’t know how long it had been when he had finally turned off the water and stepped out. He wrapped a towel around his waist, rubbing his feet on the shower mat. He studied himself in the mirror, leaning against the sink. From the hot shower, his pale skin was unusually flushed.

Prussia scoffed at himself. Who was he kidding? Italy had made his choice ages ago. And what had come out of Prussia’s actions? All he had managed to do was betray his own brother. Ludwig had always felt for Italy. Always. He had been stupid not to see it. Prussia shook his head, disgusted with himself. How had he been so blind? Even earlier today, when he came to the decision to compete for Italy, he knew what he was doing. He had swallowed that disgust and it had settled like a stone in his heart.

He wanted it out.

“Some ‘awesome’ brother you are.” Prussia growled at his reflection. He tore his gaze away from the mirror, getting dressed. He furiously scrubbed the water out of his hair with a towel and left the steamy bathroom. As he crossed his bedroom, he was caught in a beam of light from the moon. He strode forward and ripped open the curtains. Gazed down at his front yard, and down the driveway.

Was this really it? Was Prussia destined to live a life of loneliness by himself? Locked in his own solitude? Was he really supposed to chase friendships to fill a void in his heart? He sighed, his breath fogging against the window. If he was truly destined to be alone as he feared, then he could take comfort in the fact that he was because he was doing it for his brother.

He pushed open Ludwig’s door. “Knock knock.”

Germany was sat at his desk. He looked over to Prussia, his gaze furrowing. He stood. “What the hell was that today?”

“I know.”

Germany stood in place, his expression unchanging. “You know?”

“Yes, I know. It was a real dick move, everything I did today. I look back on it and wonder what the hell I was even trying to do in the first place.”

Ludwig’s face was blank.

“I just…” Prussia sighed. “God, why is this so difficult?” He grunted frustratedly. “I’m tired of being alone. Being alone sucks ass. To never have someone love you back is awful, okay? And I let it get to me. I shouldn’t have, I’m just being so damn emotional and weird.”

“You’re… not.” Germany said awkwardly. “I understand.”

“You don’t understand one goddamn thing.” Prussia snapped. “You’ve only ever loved Italy, and you’ve got him.” All at once, Prussia lost the energy to be angry. All that was left was… sorrow. Apathy. The emotion was not foreign to him, but it never got less heartbreaking. “And I want you to have him. Really, I do.”

Germany sighed, glancing out the window.

Silently, Prussia mused that they really were more alike than what most people realized.

“I don’t want to be with him.” Germany finally answered, turning to Prussia. “Not if it makes you feel this way.”

“It won’t forever.” Prussia tried for a winning smile. “I’ll get over it.”

Germany looked levelly at Prussia. “I’m not good at this. Never have been, probably never will be. But if being with Italy makes you feel like this all the time, I couldn’t do it in good conscience. There’s someone out there for everybody, Gilbert, and there’s even someone for you.”

Prussia scoffed. “Even for me, huh?”

“Even for you.” Germany said. “Get some sleep.”

“I kind of don’t want to sleep.” Prussia protested. “I kind of want to… get drunk off my ass, y’know?”

Germany smiled slightly. “Me too.”

“Let’s go, then.” Prussia slapped the door frame lightly as he left the room. “Your awesome brother will get the first round.”

“Who will drive us home?” Germany asked, following his brother out.

“France, probably.” Prussia said. “He’s so nice, I could get him to do just about anything.”

The world meeting came around half a year later. Italy had taken his place on Germany’s right side, Japan at the other end of the table next to America.

Prussia watched his brother and Italy, his brow furrowed. True to Germany’s word, he made no romantic moves on Italy. Italy, in return, appeared to have been keeping his feelings in check. Anybody could see that the two loved each other. Everyone except themselves. Prussia looked down at his hands, idly drawing a chicken on the corner of the meeting’s agenda. It took him four months to realize where he stood with Italy. He had some time to analyze his feelings and the way he even thought about himself.

It wasn’t that he was in love with Italy. It wasn’t that he even felt for him in any way beyond friendship. It was that Italy, lovely, affectionate Italy, gave Prussia attention he wasn’t quite used to. Attention that could be interpreted romantically. And, like a school girl, Prussia thought himself in love with him. Really, it appeared he was in love with the idea of loving and being loved back.

So here Prussia was, doomed to be alone. That’s what it felt like, at least. He was disturbed from his dramatic internal monologue when he heard the sound of the chair next to him scooting outward. Prussia didn’t look up from his work.“Hey, Greece.”

“Hmm?”

Prussia blinked. That definitely wasn’t Greece. Prussia turned his head, looking up. In Greece’s usual place was Canada, looking confused and slightly embarrassed. “Oh! Canada.”

“Sorry, is it okay if I take this seat? Greece wasn’t able to make it today, and…” his already quiet voice lowered to a whisper.

Prussia leaned in so as to hear it.

“I’d rather not sit next to Russia, if you know what I mean.”

Prussia waved to the empty seat, smirking. “Well, well, so Canada does people he doesn’t get along with!”

Canada only shrugged slightly, the corners of his mouth lifting up. “Only if you can keep it a secret.”

Prussia smiled down at his hands again. He knew of Canada of course, they have both been involved in group conversation. The two had never conversed directly, though. Never got around to it, he supposed. Prussia didn’t expect to get a humorous streak from him.

“Nice chicken.” Canada muttered, pointing to the drawing on Prussia’s papers.

“Thanks!” Prussia responded.

“I didn’t know you were an artist.”

Prussia smirked over to Canada. “Only if you can keep it a secret.”

Canada bit back a shy smile before turning back down to his papers as a distraction.

Prussia found himself flabbergasted. Come to think of it, he’d never seen Canada smile so genuinely. He always had his polite grin, of course, but that uninhibited smile… those eyes so blue they were almost purple…. Oh no. In Prussia’s periphery, he could see Germany watching the two. Germany was no idiot. He knew what was going on.

Prussia ignored the gaze, however, turning back to Canada. “I’d really like to get to know you sometime, Canada.”

Canada, his face flushed, looked back and smiled.

Maybe Prussia wasn’t doomed to be alone after all.

#gerita #hetalia #aphgerita #hws gerita #gerita fic #hetalia fanfic #gerita fanfic #request #fic request #Prusscan #prusscan fic #prussia #aph prussia #hws prussia #aph canada #hws canada #JuliusSneezer Fics

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juliussneezerfics · 5 years ago

Text

Blood Red Lilies and Baby Blue Cornflowers: Chapter 11 - Care

Japan, exhausted with his friends and being left out of the loop, decides to intervene.

Ao3

***************

Japan was exhausted. Not physically, but mentally. Dare he say, emotionally. For the past few months, he could tell there was something going on between his best friends. Japan could guess it was romantic, of course he could. He knew there was something wrong with Germany, too. Several decades of them only getting together every several months. It somehow felt… wrong. Japan had a fairly good idea of what the root of this problem was. He suspected Italy did, too. Japan’s country had the first case of hanahaki, after all. If anyone should be familiar with the symptoms, it was him. The only question was how to approach it.

Japan knocked on Germany’s door, not surprised when Prussia was the one to answer it.

Prussia’s eyebrows raised questioningly. “Japan?”

“Good evening, Prussia. I apologize for coming without warning, but I needed to talk to Germany for a minute.”

Prussia furrowed his brow and rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. He’s pretty tired and I think he’s down for a nap.”

“Forgive me for being presumptuous, but I assume he’s not feeling well?”

“Ehh…” Prussia said with a shrug. “You know how Germany is. He could lose an entire arm and chalk it up to a paper cut.”

“Again, forgive me, but am I right in assuming he has hanahaki?”

Prussia blinked. “What are you- how did you know?”

“I know the symptoms well. I have suspected it for a fair amount of time now, but it was only last week at the meeting that I realized Italy knew as well. I need to talk to him.”

“I don’t know.” Prussia said with a furrowed brow. “He really isn’t feeling too good.”

“Please, I will not be long.” Japan pleaded.

Prussia opened the door wider. “You’re lucky you don’t ask for too much.” It was said without hostility, but a certain kind of reluctance Japan wasn't accustomed to Prussia having.

“Thank you, Mr. Prussia.”

“Prussia, please. How many times do I have to say it? You make me sound old.” Prussia kicked the door shut with a chicken-slipper-clad foot.

Japan took his shoes off, leaving them neatly by the door. “Thank you, Prussia. I won’t be long.”

“I’m about to order a pizza if you want some when you’re done.” Prussia offered.

Japan held up a hand. “Thank you, but I have a prior engagement.” Prior engagements being a video game marathon with America that evening.

“Ah, okay. More for me, then. He’s right down the hall.” Prussia said, waving in the general direction of the hallway. “Third door on the right.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, and Japan?”

Japan turned mid-step.

“Whatever you’re about to do, thanks. You’re good with this stuff. I wish I could help him more, but… y’know. I’m not good at this, and… just try to talk some sense into him, okay?”

“Trust me, I plan to. Thank you, Prussia.”

Prussia shrugged. “It’s whatever. Just… he doesn’t look so hot. So be ready for that, I guess.”

Japan nodded. “Thank you.”

Wordlessly, Prussia paced into the kitchen and out of sight.

Japan walked down the hallway, taking a deep breath as he approached the door. It had a small crack in it, allowing Japan to see light coming from within. He pushed his way through quietly. Germany looked up curiously from the book he was reading, his face registering shock.

Japan could feel his face fall into a rare look of surprise as he looked at Germany. His blond hair, usually thick and bright, was dull and thin lying over his forehead. His eyes were surrounded with dark bags, the whites of his eyes bloodshot. His skin was sallow, his cheeks hollowed out. His arms, usually muscled, seemed thin and frail. He looked almost like a skeleton. Japan fought the urge to look away.

“Japan?” Germany’s voice was dry, cracking as he spoke. “You have to leave, I’m not feeling well.”

“Hanahaki,” Japan simply said, coming forward and sitting down next to the bed, “is not contagious.”

“What are you talking about?” Germany said, turning his head away from Japan. He couldn’t seem to find the strength to lift his arm and cover his mouth as he coughed up several lily petals, the edges tinged with red.

Japan raised an eyebrow.

“… those are from lunch.” Germany said.

“Was that a joke?”

Germany gave a barely-there shrug.

“You really are sick.” Japan replied.

Germany just looked at him.

Japan reached forward and picked up a red-tinged petal, turning it idly and inspecting it. “If I may ask, how long have you had it?”

“Since the end of the second world war.”

Japan glanced up in surprise. “Is that so?”

Germany looked away.

“Does Italy know?”

He cringed slightly.

“I see. If I may ask, how did he react?”

“He… just wanted to know about it. How long I had it, that sort of thing.”

“Did you tell him?”

Again, Germany cringed at Japan.

“I see.” Japan nodded. “So here we are.”

“Here I am.” Germany said grimly, coughing again.

Japan stayed silent, waiting for Germany to open up further.

Several moments passed before Germany looked back up at Japan. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“There is no need to apologize.”

“There is. You are mine and Italy’s best friend. I daresay you are as involved with this as we are.”

Japan agreed, but said nothing.

Germany rattled in a breath. “You’re good at reading the atmosphere, right?”

Japan hesitated. “Well, I wouldn’t say I’m good at it.”

“Without modesty, are you good at it?”

Again, Japan hesitated. “Yes.”

“What should I do about this? Prussia and Hungary said I should give him space, but… I just want to fix this.”

“It really isn’t my place to meddle with your personal affairs.” Not directly. Influencing was technically not meddling, right?

Germany grunted, resting his head against the headboard. He shut his sunken eyes. “I don’t expect him to… fall in love with me. That wouldn’t be fair. But… if we could just go back to the way it was…”

Japan studied Germany, taken aback with this emotional honesty. Though the two were close, there was still some barrier between them. It was the same barrier the two put up in front of everyone else, but with both of theirs together it could sometimes seem as though there was a chasm stretched between them. “Perhaps it is not for me to say, but it has to be said. You two need to stop avoiding each other. There is only one way to come back from this, and that is for you two to talk.”

“I tried.” Germany said.

“No, you didn’t.”

Germany turned his head to Japan, slightly surprised at the direct attitude.

“You evaded the conversation. I grant you, It was not fair for Italy to ask those things of you. However, it was also not fair for you to turn him away without an open dialogue.”

“You’re right.”

“I am sorry to be so direct, but if I am honest, I feel that it was best that I tell you.”

“It was. You’re right.”

“I do not know what you will do, however. I do not know what I, even, would do in that situation.”

Germany sighed through his nose, short and shallow. “That makes the two of us.” His blinks became slower, his vision unfocused. “I’m sorry, Japan, I’m just… so tired. So tired these days.”

“Would you like me to leave?”

Germany looked over to him. Hesitated. “If I’m honest, no. I don’t.”

Japan nodded. He reached forward and pulled the bed covers up to Germany’s shoulders, grabbing his paper bookmark off the bedside table and placing it between the pages. He set it on the bedside table as Germany struggled to wriggle his head down onto the pillow.

Germany got himself settled, his eyes half-shut. “I know I don’t tell you this enough, but you’re a good friend. Italy and I are lucky to have you.”

Japan allowed a small smile at the honesty. He looked back on who he used to be without Germany and Italy’s friendship. Alone in his own house. He had rejected his older brother, so he was really left alone for a while. To have Germany and Italy there with him warmed him from the inside out. “I’m lucky to have you two as well.”

Germany’s eyes slid shut, his breathing turning long, but shallow.

Japan knew Germany had instantly fallen asleep. Nonetheless, he found himself sitting in that chair. Thinking. About the pain his friend had suffered through for all these years. How he somehow kept it under wraps for this many years. What was it like, feeling so alone back then? In his mind's eye, he saw Germany's expression as he asked Japan to stay until he fell asleep. What must it be like to feel so alone, even now? Japan thought back to a time when the three of them were close. His heart dropped in his chest as he realized that was probably the last time Germany felt like he could confide in someone he trusted other than his older brother. His phone buzzed in his pocket with a text from America asking if everything was okay. Japan slid the phone back in his pocket, stood, and gazed at his bedridden friend.

In the burning red light of the sun, the hollows and sharp angles of Germany's face were even more dramatic than before. Japan stepped forward and pulled Germany's covers up to his shoulders. Timidly, he reached forward and tenderly swept his bangs off of his sweaty forehead. He wasn't sure what made him do it. He had almost an aversion to physical touch. But the goosebumps riddling his friend's skin, the sweat on his face and forehead, it evoked an intense desire to help Germany however he could.

But he had already done all he could do. So, reluctantly, he stepped out of the room, and out of the house.

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juliussneezerfics · 5 years ago

Text

New Year’s In

Much to Germany's dismay, Italy wants to drag him out of the house to go to America's New Year's Eve party. Germany has no choice but to use his charm to get his husband to stay home.

Ao3

*******

Italy wrapped the scarf around his neck, making sure that the buttons to his peacoat were done all the way up to his throat. “Don’t want to catch a cold!”

Germany stepped up next to him, also grabbing his coat. “You realize that’s a myth, right?”

“Perhaps!” Italy gave a final tug of his scarf, looking up at Germany. “But there’s no harm in staying warm!”

“I’ll grant you that.” Germany buttoned up his coat. He took a look around the house. “Did you get all the lights?”

Italy followed his gaze. Despite the fact that it was New Year’s Eve, Italy allowed Germany to keep up the Christmas tree. It was his favorite holiday, after all. At the beginning of their marriage, Italy had initially been annoyed with how long his husband wanted to keep the decorations up. But as the past few years went by, Italy could see the appeal of the warm lights brightening up the dark living room they were about to leave. “Yup!”

“All of them?” Germany asked, checking his pocket for his keys and his wallet.

Italy rolled his eyes, but grinned. “Yes, all of them.”

“Even the closet?”

“You were in the closet last!” Italy reminded him, knowing what Germany was doing.

Germany shrugged slightly, shoving both hands in his pockets. “Perhaps I should go check.”

Italy smiled. “It’s just a New Year’s Party. Quit stalling.”

Germany sighed, but he reached forward and opened the door. He waved Italy out. “I know.”

“I don’t get what the big deal is!” Italy said, stepping through the doorframe.

“Hold on, hear me out.” Germany said.

Italy stopped and turned, raising an eyebrow. He felt the corners of his mouth lift as Germany frowned earnestly. If Germany had a version of puppy eyes, this was it. The slight frown, the pleading gaze.

Germany reached forward and grabbed Italy’s sleeve. “Listen: It’s not too late to, say, get sick. We could stay home! I could light a fire, we could make some coffee, I’ll even do all those ridiculous extra steps you like. The measuring, the bean grinding, everything. We could sit under a blanket and watch a movie, or read, or anything else! We could just stay home. Just this once.”

A couple years ago, this proposal combined with the look in Germany’s eyes would have persuaded Italy. But he was a man that had grown accustomed to Germany’s little mannerisms and persuasions. He loved Germany dearly. But he also knew the man’s aversion to parties. “America was kind enough to invite us all to his New Year’s Party. All our friends will be there and we already said we will go."

Germany grunted, releasing Italy’s sleeve. “Why do I even try?”

“Because you try that trick for every party.” Italy gestured Germany forward, out into the cold. “And besides! You moan and groan at home all the time, but then you go and you have fun. Right?”

“Okay, I get it.” Germany said, though the corners of his mouth were turned up. He hid the smile as he turned to lock the door. “We’re going, and we’re going to have fun, and we’re going to like it… and you despise me and don’t want to spend any time with me.”

Italy laughed, grabbing Germany’s arm as the two walked out to the car. “Oh, stop being a baby!”

“You’re right. It’s my fault for marrying an extrovert.”

“Oh, stop it. If you had it your way, we would spend every night in.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Germany asked, unlocking the doors. The two got in the car, Germany turning the key and hoping for the air to warm up. “Is it so bad that I want to spend time with you?”

Italy shot Germany a firm, but not unkind look as he buckled his seatbelt. “Not going to work this time!”

Germany grunted and pulled out of the driveway, beginning the drive to America’s house. He glanced over at Italy.

He was facing away slightly, glancing out the window and watching the snow fall. Ever since he had moved to Germany’s country, he had delighted at the smatterings of snow they would get. Even watching them fall seemed to be a pleasure to him. His hair fell to the nape of his neck. He was due for a trim. Germany was all for personal upkeep, but there was something so appealing about the way that Italy’s hair curled slightly when it was long enough to brush the nape of his neck. Italy’s breath steamed against the window as he leaned closer to watch the fat flakes fall.

Germany grunted. Noticing these little things about Italy made it that much harder to drive to America’s. Or perhaps… “Feliciano?”

“Hmm?” Italy hummed, not looking away from the window.

“Is it just me, or is the snow falling faster?”

Italy turned to Germany. “Ludwig, my love, I know you don’t want to go to the party. But-”

“No, I’m serious. Look.”

Italy peered out the window, his brow furrowing. “It looks like it.”

“The snowflakes are getting bigger, too.”

Italy faced Germany. “Is the weather getting too bad to drive?”

“I don’t think so.” Germany checked to make sure that there was no-one behind them, then experimentally pressed down on the breaks. Though it had not been snowing much, they already slid against the pavement. Not enough to cause fright, but definitely enough to cause concern. “Hmm.”

“We should go back.” Italy said.

“Feli, you’ve wanted to go to this party for weeks. If I drive safely, we can make it.” Germany said.

Italy shook his head. “It’s not worth our safety. America will understand! I’ll call him on our way back.”

“Are you sure?”

Italy pulled his phone out of his coat pocket, turning to face Germany. “Caro, it is unsafe to drive. Besides, a night in sounds good. We can celebrate New Year’s in our own home tonight.”

Germany said nothing, but as he made a cautious turn around, he couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

As he found America in his contacts, Italy spotted the grin in his periphery. “Try not to be too disappointed.”

Germany started the drive back to his house, turning up the music on the radio as they made their way back.

They entered the house to a chorus of dogs barking. Germany let out a short, harsh whistle as he pulled off his coat.

Distantly, from Italy and Germany’s room, the two could hear the scratching of dog’s nails against the hardwood floor. The three dogs skidded around a corner, Berlitz unable to turn quick enough and slamming into the wall on the opposite side of the corner. Undismayed, he stood and continued the chase to his master. They crowded around the two, Germany kneeling down to pet his dogs.

Italy stood, rubbing the head of Aster as he leaned his weight against Italy’s legs. Though Italy would claim otherwise, Aster was his favorite. He also dared to guess that Italy was Aster’s favorite, too.

“Are you happy to see us home?” Germany asked, Blackie licking his cheek. Affectionately, Germany lightly pushed Blackie’s face away. “Good dogs! We’re staying home tonight!”

Italy smiled down at his husband, giving Aster’s head a final pat as he toed off his shoes. “And he’s so disappointed!”

“We went to that party last year.” Germany said, standing and untying his shoes.

Italy pulled off his coat and stretched. “Well, we won’t know what we’re missing if we don’t go out for New Year’s, I suppose.”

“Yes, because spending time with me is so difficult.” Germany teased, reaching forward and wrapping his arms around Italy’s waist.

Italy turned, smiling. “Perhaps not.”

“Mm.” Germany leaned forward and touched his lips to Italy’s.

Italy kissed back, giving a slight hum before he pulled away. “You’re unusually affectionate!”

“Just happy to be home, I suppose."

“Me too.” Italy tucked his head under Germany’s chin. “I’m going to go get my comfy clothes on.”

“What do you want to do tonight?” Germany asked, resting his head on top of Italy’s.

“Movie.”

“Christmas movie?” Germany suggested.

Italy sighed, smiling. “It’s New Year’s. Why do you want to watch Christmas movies?”

“We don’t have to.”

Italy hummed, pulling away. “No, it’s okay. After all, we agreed on New Year’s day being the end of Christmas celebrations. I’m sure we can squeeze one more Christmas movie or two until the time limit is up.”

“Go get your comfy clothes on. I’ll set up the movie.”

“Thanks.” Italy pulled away. “I’ll be right back!”

Germany made his way to the living room, sitting on his couch and picking up the remote. He smiled to himself slightly. He considered the Christmas tree his husband allowed him to leave up for this long. He considered the fireplace that would soon be crackling with warm light. His left hand resting on Aster’s head and absently scratching behind his ears, he pulled up a Christmas movie. Perhaps it was the nostalgia getting to him, but he found himself pondering the first Christmas they spent together two years ago as he started a fire. The awkward process of figuring out how to integrate both Italian and German Christmas traditions. The discovery that Italy, while he liked Christmas, simply preferred to celebrate for a shorter amount of time, while Germany preferred to draw out the celebration.

But they had figured it out. They always have, whether for holidays or not. They navigated their relationship. They had their arguments, sure, but their marriage had come to a comfy, yet clumsy arrangement that Germany found himself settling into gladly. Whether it was Italy’s laziness or Germany’s timidity in expressing affection, the two had sorted through it. Now, Italy went out of his way to do things for Germany. Germany found it within himself to say loving words to his husband. To care for him in a more expressive way. The fire crackled to life, Germany settling back into the couch and waiting.

“Feliciano?” He called out.

“Coming!” Italy replied.

Germany frowned. Did that come from the kitchen? He turned, grinning slightly as he spotted Italy in a knit sweater and comfy pants, holding two steaming mugs. “What is that?”

“Hot chocolate.” Italy answered, rounding the couch and setting the mugs down on the table.

“Coasters.” Germany reminded.

Italy reached forward and grabbed two coasters, setting the mugs down on them.

“Thank you. For the hot chocolate. And also for the coasters.” Germany said, grabbing the throw blanket off the back of the couch and unfolding it.

Italy hummed a response, sitting on the couch and leaning against Germany. “My pleasure.”

Germany lay the blanket over the two of them, adjusting his position so he had his arm wrapped around Italy’s shoulders. “Comfy?”

Italy hummed.

Germany started the movie, sighing and sitting back.

The two sat in silence, enjoying the movie and enjoying each other.

Italy stirred, lifting his head and kissing the junction between Germany’s jaw and his neck. “Never mind, this is kind of perfect.”

“Told you.” Germany pulled Italy closer. “We should make this a tradition.”

“Now, I wouldn’t say that. We can’t ignore everyone else forever.”

Germany hummed. "I suppose not."

Italy grinned into Germany’s side.

Time passed slowly, the two turning on movie after movie, enjoying their time together. After a couple hours, the two turned off the television. Germany retrieved a book they were reading off the shelf. He propped his torso against the armrest of the couch, his legs swung up onto the cushions. Italy had his chest to Germany’s, his legs curled between Germany’s. Germany read the book in a low, muted tone, Italy occasionally shifting his position.

Italy lifted his head. “It’s eleven thirty.”

Germany glanced up at the clock. “So it is.”

“Save your New Year’s kiss for me?” Italy asked, teasing.

Germany looked at him, shaking his head. This was a tradition that started while the two were dating that lasted into their marriage. Around this time, Italy would always approach Germany and interrupt whichever conversation he was a part of to request that Germany save his New Year’s kiss for him. Germany had initially blushed heavily at the request and stammered out a response, not liking the attention the proposal drew from their friends. However, as time passed, he found it endearing. It was almost a ritual for them.

“Of course.” Germany answered.

Italy hummed, satisfied, returning his head to its place on Germany’s chest as Germany continued his reading.

A half hour later, the two still lay chest-to-chest. They were staring at the face of Germany’s watch as the minute hand ticked by. They were in the last ten seconds.

“Ten,” Italy began. Germany joined as they counted down the seconds.

Three…

Two…

One…

Italy leaned forward and kissed his husband, his arms wrapping around Germany’s neck.

Germany’s hands settled on Italy’s waist.

The two drew apart, a few inches separating them.

“Happy New Year, Ludwig.”

“Happy New Year, Feliciano.”

******

Caro: Darling

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