#the dead sexy comment was a reference to 'america looks dead sexy in a miniskirt'

[inkstaineddove]

The Difference Between Nations

Pairing: USUK, GerAme. Background Spamano, Franada, PruHun

Characters: America, Germany, Britain. Brief appearances by Romano, Spain, Canada, France, Prussia, and Hungary

Summary: America's been noticing Germany's rise back to the forefront of Europe and the power it holds over the continent. He decides to try and relate to a nation who he sees as very similar to himself.

Alfred sighed, staring at his reflection in the mirror. "Do we really have to go to this? It sounds so lame, dude." He adjusted his bowtie and attempted to flatten down his cowlick. He rolled his eyes, frustrated at its persistence to defy gravity. "A ball sounds really old and stuffy and like something that should've been left in the eighteen hundreds." Arthur stood at the sink, putting on some cologne. "We don't have to, but I'd prefer we're not the only two nations that skipped. People are talking about us enough between Trump and Brexit. We don't need any more bad press." He straightened up and put on his diamond cuff links. "It's a good opportunity to warm up to all the European countries again so I get a better deal once the divorce is finalized." He winked at the American. "If it helps, you look dead sexy in a suit. Almost makes me want to blow the party early to start one of our own." America smiled and wrapped his arms around the Briton's hips, pulling him closer to him. "You think flattery's gonna work on me? Because it totally will, please keep going." Alfred kissed the nape of the other man's neck, moving up towards his lips. "Why not have a pre-party before?" 

Britain pushed him off and started moving for the door. "As enticing as that idea may be, we have to go. If we show up too late, the frog will be all over us and insinuating a lot of things that he doesn't need to know about."

"He's gonna insinuate anyway!" Alfred grumbled, but followed his lover despite his objections. He kept complaining the whole drive from London to Vienna. Alfred rolled his eyes when Roderich's house was in sight. "Ya'know what's bullshit? Homeboy's owned this place for centuries and it must cost a fuckton of Euros, but he still needed loans after both wars. I should've refused." "Ah, yes. You could've refused after the Great War and brought the second one upon us sooner or refused after the second and have him be a satellite state for the USSR. That would've been so much better for Austria, Europe, and the world as a whole. Dammit, Alfred, why don't you make even more brash decisions?" America flipped him the bird. "I hate you so much." Britain handed the keys to the valet. "Then get out of my car." The two walked up and into the house. Before stepping into the main ballroom, Alfred offered Arthur his arm. That elicited an eye roll and blush from Arthur. Nonetheless, he gratefully took it. The ballroom was an explosion of color and sound. Vibrant paintings were hanging throughout, surrounded by jeweled frames that sparkled in the bright lights of the various chandeliers. Above the hum of the other nation's voices, a full orchestra could be heard playing a variety of classical pieces - both contemporary and from centuries past. Arthur shook his head. "This takes you back to the Enlightenment." Alfred shrugged. "Needs more revolution to fit my memory of the time." His partner elbowed him as France, Canada, Spain, and Romano walked up to them. "Matthew, Lovino, great to see you," Arthur then groaned in response to the sight of their dates. "Great, the three musketeers are here. Wait, where's the third? How are you not lost without your frightful leader?" Francis took Arthur's hand and kissed it. "Angleterre, you look as dreadful as always. Your eyes, the shade of fresh vomit. Your complexion, that of a ghost. Your voice sends a shiver up my spine like one, yet you are about as threatening as Casper." He smiled genuinely at Alfred. "Amèrique, so good to see you again. How's your country going? When should I expect the announcement of a union between you and Ivan?" Matthew sighed. "Do you have to start a fight? We're all supposed to be friends..." He was so tired. He wished everyone would grow up and find peace within themselves to not be petty all the time. "I'd give you a proper response, but I heard you're on strike from all common sense so I won't waste my breath. Though you're awfully mean tonight. Who spiked your wine? Normally you're funnier than this. Where's my comedy?" Arthur sighed. "He's pissy 'cause that piano bastard rejected his wine. I don't blame him, French wine tastes like piss," Lovino shrugged. Antonio gave him a look. "He rejected yours as well." Lovino took a sip from a bottle of red wine. "The bastard's loss is my gain. I'm happy I was smart enough to bring two." He pointed with the un-open bottle. "The albino bastard was helping Elizaveta help the piano fuck with something." He turned around and started walking away. "I'm gonna get hammered. I hate these things." America saluted him as he walked away. "Godspeed, dude." Gilbert came sauntering up to them with Erzsébet. His shirt was a bit untucked in a way that was meant to look effortless, but he'd spent at least ten minutes working on and his tie was loosened. Erzsébet's usual flower had been replaced with one matching her green dress. "Alright! Now the party can actually start! Francis, 'Tonio, Al, and we'll get ol' Artie a little drunk so he can relax and have some fun. Matty, are you in or are you in? I saw Lovino had already started so we gotta start catching up to him." Prussia grinned wickedly. "Either that or we can take Silesia for old time's sake. It's not too far from here. I remember the route." Hungary hit his arm. "You're not getting shit faced here! If you do, I won't hear the end of it from Roderich or Feliks! You'll also embarrass your brother-" "I embarrass him all the time. But, if it means so much to you, I'll be sober enough to function throughout this whole boring thing." Gilbert kissed her cheek. He then turned his attention back to the group. "So what's up?" Arthur and Francis had been glaring at each other throughout the whole ordeal. Alfred and Matthew were sharing apologetic looks. Antonio was rocking back and forth on his heels, feeling out of place. Gilbert and Erzsébet looked at each other. "I'll catch up with you guys later. We're gonna not be here." He pointed some finger guns at them and the couple left as quickly as possible. Antonio saw that the deadlock remained between the two rivals. He figured they weren't even paying attention and slipped away to find Lovino so they could dance. Meanwhile, Britain and France had come up with more insults to hurl at each other. Canada and America sighed. "You think they'll ever grow up?" Canada asked, not caring if they heard. He knew they wouldn't though. They were too absorbed in themselves. "At their old age? Hell no, bro. We're stuck with them like this. Forever." They both groaned at that prospect. Out of the corner of his eye, America saw Germany by himself, going out onto the balcony. He remembered the mental note he'd made to talk to the other nation at this thing. Alfred patted his brother on the arm. "Hey, I gotta talk to Germany real quick about something. Make sure they don't start a brawl." The American swiftly moved between the sea of nations, apologizing whenever he bumped into someone. He paused before the entrance to the balcony and fixed his jacket and bowtie. He put on his most winning smile and stepped outside. He found Germany with his back to the entrance, staring out over the horizon. The German stood tall and erect with his hands behind his back, showing all his years of military training. America chuckled. "Ya'know, you remind me of what I imagine Jay Gatsby to look like." Germany turned around. He had heard the other’s footsteps so he wasn't surprised at his sudden company. "Hallo, Amerika," he smiled. "I hope I'm not wrong in taking that as a compliment." America walked up besides him. He leaned against the railing. "You're not. Fitzgerald wrote him with sexy in mind. You're not my type, but you're definitely a New York nine." Ludwig raised an eyebrow, but didn't object. He wasn't foolish enough to reject a compliment, even if he didn't believe it's validity. He watched his companion fish for a packet of cigarettes and a lighter out of his pockets. "What's your motive?" Alfred almost dropped the cigarette out of his mouth. He lit it before speaking. "And they say I don't have tact. Dude, what are you talking about?" "We're not friends. Our alliance is one of mutual beneficence. We only talk at meetings or when we have cause due to work. The most I've said to you in a casual setting was thanking you for inviting me to your Christmas party and hoping you had a happy holiday season. You saw me out here alone and came out here alone when you could've easily brought along Britain or Canada to get either away from France." He smirked at the American's shocked expression. "Ja, I saw. The three of you are rather loud. I feel bad for your neighbors." America blinked for a few seconds. "Ok, a lot of questions. First, you actually made a sexual innuendo? Second, why do you always call us by our nation's names? I've got no problem with you calling me Al or Alfred, but I do reject Alfie." "It's not professional. We're nations. Those names are a guise for our people and to make our bosses more comfortable when they're with us." He scoffed. "You act like I have no sense of humor. You know who my brother is. But we're sidetracked. What do you need? Whatever it is, I'll do my best to help you." "Honestly, it was nothing serious. Kinda just wanted to get to know you better. And make up for the bad taste my new boss may have left in your mouth." He smiled sheepishly. Germany laughed softly, unable to help himself at that fresh memory. "I appreciate that. It was quite a bitter one. Frau's worried, but I'm not. We can survive four years." He led America to a bench that was on the other side of the balcony. "If we're going to be here for awhile, may as well be comfortable. Why stand when you can sit?" America leaned back against it. "That's weird coming from you. I thought you were all anal about exercise." "I am, but standing isn't exercise. Also, it's foolish to waste any resources you have readily at your disposal." The two sat in silence. Germany sat expectantly, waiting for America's line of questioning to begin. It took Alfred awhile, but he finally figured out where he wanted to start. "You've been doing real well lately. You're the golden boy of Europe, holding everyone up." "I have to. Your boyfriend leaving the EU makes me the only one with a strong enough economy to help the others. Not like he was always much help anyways, but I can handle it. France will have to pick up some slack though." Ludwig paused and thought for a second. "Schiessen. This better not be some sort of pep talk. Gilbert's given me plenty and Russia tried giving me one a few weeks ago and it was the worst thing I've endured in a long time." Alfred laughed. "For real? Like hell I'd do that. I ain't much older than you. It'd be weird to put you through that. I'd only ever give you advice if you asked and I don't think you would. The only thing I could tell you how to do is win a world war, but you seem to be done with those." "Nein, I've had plenty of time to figure that out as well. Don't back the wrong horse and don't invade other countries under false pretenses then break your treaty with the country that will crush you. It's shockingly simple, but hindsight is twenty-twenty." He joked, but there wasn't a hint of amusement in his voice. America ignored it. "Seriously, dude. I don't get how you do it. If I had that many countries I was responsible for, I think I'd kill myself." Ludwig raised an eyebrow. "You are responsible for more nations than I am. The difference is I do my job better." "Technically I am, but no one realizes unless they have to. Listen to the news, you hear about something in Europe, you're gonna be involved in someway. It's always positive too. That's what blows my mind. None of them hate you-" "Practically all of them hate me." "But they work with you! They'll talk shit about you, complain about you, make some pretty good jokes, but you get stuff done! They don't like you, but they trust you. How?" "You're not at the EU meetings. A lot of the times, stuff doesn't get done that was on the docket. It's the G7, G20, NATO, and UN meetings on a much smaller scale. You're hyping up headlines." The German glanced at the American's cigarette. He had kicked the habit years ago, but this conversation was making him want to pick it back up. America shook his head. "Whatever dude. You know what I'm trying to say. All the others listen to you and you don't even have nukes! I don't get shit done anymore. It's like I'm past my prime. I gotta go into retirement, hang up my jersey." Germany rubbed the bridge of his nose. "If the whole purpose of this was for you to try to get me to reject football and embrace baseball, I'm throwing you off the balcony." "I used to hear all this talk from my old boss about how you kept moving up and moving up," Alfred ignored what the other had said, too lost in his own thoughts. "Even on the news and in some of my paper's. And shit, dude. I can't deny it. For fuck's sake, I see it first hand every month or so!" He laughed and took a drag off his cigarette. He looked up at the night sky. "Makes me think that you should've been a superpower instead of me." There was silence for a long time between them. America was happy with himself. He'd given Germany the best compliment he possibly could. Anything that may have happened between their bosses would now be smoothed over and they could continue working like they had for decades now. He silently congratulated himself on his brilliance. If America had bothered to look at the man besides him instead of at the stars, he would've noticed that he was wrong in how he thought his words would be received. Germany's body was tense and rigid. He ground his teeth together. His hands twitched to smack the proud expression off the other nation's face. He let out a shaky breath. "Go fuck yourself, Alfred." Alfred's gaze snapped at Ludwig. "Huh?" He tilted his head to the side. Germany rose and began pacing the length of the balcony. His body trembled, trying to contain all his anger. "Ja! I should be the one with the nuclear codes! The world would be so much better! I mean, I did have two shots at it. Prussia would be happy if the Hohenzollerns, a family that's slightly less inbred than the Hapsburgs, were making all the important decisions. The 1910s would've been so much better under a kaiser who would've fucked a navy vessel if he could've found an available hole!" America had his arms crossed. He rolled his eyes as the other spoke. "You're being overdramatic. It was a compliment!" "Nein! It's not. It's really not. Oh, how could I forget! The more likely outcome of me being a superpower! We'd all be fucking Nazis! Either Nazis or communists because I wasn't gonna take Russia down. Now that, that's the world I wished we lived in! Danke, Amerika. I no longer have guilt because I know that people would've preferred a genocide to never end!" He paused, finally calming down a little. He also realized he was shouting. "Do you ever think before you speak? Ever consider the meaning behind what you say?" "I thought you'd wanna hear that! I'm saying you could do my job better than me! Who wouldn't wanna hear that?" "A person who wanted your job and screwed the world over twice as a result. Maybe in your world that really means a lot. You can say that to Britain or France and they appreciate because they were good at their job. You can say that to Poland or the Italys and they feel like they're not the butt of the joke to the world. But you can't say that to me." He sighed and ran his hands through his hair, slicking it back more. "Danke. I work hard. I appreciate that it gets noticed. I don't want the world though. I'm not Gilbert or Roderich. I can't...I won't rule the world. I don't want to. I don't deserve to. Ja, I may do a better job of it than you or Russia or China. All three of you terrify me." America scoffed. "Come on. I'm harmless." "I fought against you in two wars and I was your buffer zone in the Cold War. You've dragged the Middle East into chaos for oil and as revenge for one terrorist attack. You have arsenals of nuclear weapons. You're the biggest threat of anyone at this unfortunate social gathering and, if it wasn't for Mutually Assured Destruction, I think you'd be blowing up nations left and right." He sighed again and shook his head, muttering curses in German. "Can you please go? Danke. I understand what you meant. Just...don't talk to me again for the rest of the night. Or unless you have to. I can't deal with this much stupidity." Germany moved back to where he was standing when America first walked out. America rose and stomped out his cigarette. He began moving towards the door. When he reached it, Germany's voice stopped him. "America, before you go. I figured I'd pay you a compliment that I know will get my message through your head. You're one fantastic empire and remind me a lot of Rome. Getting close to the same age as when he fell as well. I'd keep that in mind if I were you." Alfred's hand hovered over the door knob. All the tales he'd ever heard about Rome flashed to mind. The scarred body, the constant battles, how quickly everything crumbled once the invasions began. He then imagined the same happening to him - his states with too many rights rising up, his territories rebelling, Canadian and Mexican invasions. Shuddering, America quickly exited the balcony. He leaned against the door, closed his eyes, and sighed. Alfred decided he'd had enough of this party and quickly left with Britain, breaking up a fight about to happen. Meanwhile, Germany found himself caught up in the past. He remembered the vision Hitler had sold to him of German dominance of the globe. He saw the globe being covered in a swastika and shivered. He could taste how close he was to that vision before the image of Hitler's dead body in the rubble of the bunker flashed to his mind. He then tasted the disgust and hatred for himself as everything came to light, as he found the extent of the damage his actions had caused, that he could still taste strongly on certain days. Ludwig shook his head, freeing himself of the past. "I am not meant to rule the world," he whispered to no one in particular. "But I will make it a better one. I owe it that much. That's where you and I differ, America. You have no reason to see yourself as the villain while I have no reason to see myself as anything but."