Title: The Having and the Holding
Author: sithmarauder
Main Pairing: Switzerland/Austria
Side Pairings: (implied) France/England, America/Canada, Poland/Lithuania, Germany/Italy, Spain/Romano, Russia/China, Greece/Japan, Denmark/Norway, Sweden/Finland, Canada/Liechtenstein (friendship), and others.
Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. Especially not my dignity.
Warnings: Sex. Yay!
'The Morning After" scenario. Hush hush, FanFiction; no lecturing me about my unoriginality. Sorry for the awkward sex, but I am terrible at that stuff. In my mind, Liechtenstein and Canada are friends. I'm so very sorry for the shitty ending.
Comments: Austria's birthday corresponds with the signing of the "Declaration of Neutrality" in 1955. Lots of things are implied in this story instead of outright stated, so I apologize for that. Everyone has their own style, non? Anyway, have fun, and I hope you all enjoy the read. I edited this to the best of my own ability, so I apologize for any silly errors.
Fuck I need a beta.
Special thanks to anonymous reviewer Naska for correcting my horrible German! I really do appreciate it (:
Thanks to pirateANDelf for reminding me (as well as putting up with me), and for being generally awesome.
Happy 1,304th birthday, dear Austria.
-x-
Switzerland had never been too fond of the morning's light. Sure, he woke up to it everyday, but really, when it all came down to it, he considered the whole thing more of a nuisance.
Still, even when it was cloudy, his body would wake up at just that time and tell him that he had gotten enough sleep; that it was time to stop lying in bed and go check on Liechtenstein. And so, that thought in mind, the Swiss man groaned, moving slightly and gasping when he felt a jolt of pain run through his person, causing him to huff and fall back against the surprisingly comfortable pillow beneath him.
The movement that followed was barely distinguishable. If he hadn't been utterly stunned by the lack of a pink canopy above him, and by the ache of his suddenly sore body, he probably wouldn't have noticed it. His breathing quickening, Switzerland slowly turned his to where the movement had come from, only now realizing that there was something else—no, someone else—beside him, and that, because of that person, the bed was warmer.
Mentally kicking himself for not noticing this earlier, Switzerland closed his eyes and turned to his left, hoping against hope that it wasn't Liechtenstein or—God forbid—France sleeping next to him.
He was completely shocked to find Austria sleeping peacefully, violet eyes hidden and sooty black lashes fanning against his face as he inhaled and exhaled serenely.
Switzerland's mind went numb as he frantically tried to remember what had happened last night, but all that came to his mind were some distant flashbacks, as grimly expected. After all, if he hadn't been doing this under the influence of alcohol (or any other illegal, pleasant-haze-inducing sustenance), then he would have known where he was instantly, and, well, it wouldn't have felt like someone had knocked the wind out of him when he realized who, exactly, was sleeping beside him.
His body still aching and his mind still not responding, Switzerland leaned his back against the cherry-oak headboard, wincing slightly.
Wonderful. So he'd not only had sex with his ex-friend Austria (if the current pain and… stickiness was anything to go by), but he'd bottomed.
Clearly this was not working out to be a very positive day.
A faint mumbling made Switzerland pause his Very Important Thoughts as Austria turned onto his right side, still asleep, a faint huff escaping his mouth as he exhale sharply. Unconsciously, the pianist moved towards the source of warmth, a faint mewling sound escaping his lips as Switzerland's humiliation made his face rival one of Romano's prized tomatoes.
He'd bottomed to… this? Granted, Austria was extremely good-looking, especially in light of the sun that was shining through the window, making his pale skin and nicely-tousled chestnut brown hair simply glow as the rest of his nicely shaped body seemed to beckon him from underneath the wispy white sheets and...
Inappropriate thoughts stop there.
Switzerland frowned, closing his eyes and hoping against vain hope that, when he opened them, he would be back at his own house. And when that was not the case, he wished instead for a gun.
Which also didn't happen.
So, instead, the Swiss nation consoled himself that Austria could be a scary badass (sort of) when he wanted to be, or when given good reason. Like that time Germany had recounted at the World Conference, when France had been caught on their land and, when searched, was found to have taken a series of pictures that Austria was not very happy about, to say the least.
But that wasn't helping him – or his pride – right now. He knew what he needed to do, but saying and doing were two entirely different things, and with his body protesting any and every movement he was making, getting home (or at least out of the house) without waking Austria would be much harder than he'd like.
And so, ignoring the creaking in his limbs that made Switzerland cringe (he wasn't even that old, especially compared to countries like Japan or China), the blonde pulled himself out of the bed and set himself the task of locating his clothes, which were strewn and mixed haphazardly across the room. Feeling his face heat up again, Switzerland tilted his chin up in an effort to ignore what he could not remember. He would shower when he got home.
Pulling on his usual pants and green coat and shirt, Switzerland threw his boots on and scowled darkly. He'd have to run his clothes through the laundry, too – they reeked of alcohol, sweat, and… yeah. Making his way slowly and quietly from Austria's room, Switzerland crept along the hallway and down the stairs, avoiding the servants that may have been up and around.
And as he made it to and out the door, he hoped, with a stab of guilt and worry that made him stagger slightly, that Liechtenstein would be okay. Oh God, he had left her all alone, hadn't he? She'd be stuck in the house wai—
"Yes, Switzerland, I'm perfectly sure I don't mind watching her for one night. Liechtenstein and I will have fun, won't we?"
"I still—"
"I don't want to hear another word! Now go get yourself a drink before I force one down your throat."
Ah… closing his eyes in momentary relief, Switzerland straightened his posture and continued to walk down the path, away from the grand Vienna mansion that loomed peacefully behind him (oxymoron aside), all the while ignoring the pained feeling in his gut as he did so.
When he finally arrived in Berne, it was to an empty house, and after a brief moment of panic, he felt like shooting himself for forgetting (again) that Hungary had agreed to watch Liechtenstein. The only thoughts going through his mind at this time were ones filled with multitudes of grudging gratitude, for now he could venture up to his room and… clean himself up without his sister's well-meaning but embarrassing questions. And so, removing his boots, the Swiss nation ascended the stairwell, angrily brushing strands of hair from his face as he did so.
Switzerland had never been one for long hot showers. After all, it wasted water, and in doing so, it also cost him more money, something he liked to avoid at all cost. This was, of course, common knowledge, and he never hesitated to tell the other countries (especially America and Canada) what he thought. But today… Today he wanted nothing more than to just stand under the hot cascade, letting the water erase the reminders of last night from his skin.
"Oi, Swissy, you're so, like, stuck-up! Come on! It's his birthday – it's not like you even have to talk to him, sort of! I mean, like, seriously! You used to be totally great friends and stuff!" Poland said, waving his hand for emphasis. Standing next to him, Lithuania looked faintly uncomfortable, but he didn't say anything, so Switzerland didn't spare him a second thought. Putting down the rifle he had been cleaning, the blonde nation took the time to frown.
"Liechtenstein's, like, totally accepted already, so I don't know why you won't!"
"I – wait, what?"
"Yes," Lithuania intoned. "We asked her first."
"Liet totally knew you'd refuse unless she went, and if you were there when we, like, asked, you'd refuse outright. And then she totally wouldn't come because you're family. Ugh."
"France will be there." Switzerland jumped. He hadn't even seen Canada standing there. "And so will Prussia."
Switzerland's eyes sparked. He remembered the last time Prussia had been in the same room as Austria, and it had taken the quick intervention of Prussia's younger brother, Germany, to prevent the albino from molesting the pianist on the spot. Switzerland's blood burned. He couldn't let those grabby bastards lay a hand on Austria… Switzerland shook slightly. No, no, not Austria, he didn't care about what they did to him – he didn't. He just did not want them influencing his sweet Liechtenstein or, worse, touching her in any way! Yes, Liechtenstein, he had to protect her.
"Fine, I'll come."
"Whoot! I, like, knew bringing France up would make him go! Good idea, umm…"
"Canada…"
"Right! I, like, totally knew that too!
Switzerland didn't even bother correcting them.
Startling himself out of the reverie, Switzerland reached out to grasp the shower handle, stilling the welcome rush of the warm water over his skin. He shivered, stepping out as he wrapped a simple white towel around his waist, his eyes narrowing into near slits. How could he have been stupid enough to listen to them? Stomping across the hall, Switzerland slammed the door on the world and, hopefully, his memories.
The bar was loud and crowded, and the stench of alcohol drifted to him even though he stood out on the sidewalk, gripping the empty air where his rifle would have been. Liechtenstein had quietly requested he leave it at home and, as per usual, Switzerland could not refuse her. What a wonderful way to spend the 26th of October.
"Big brother?"
Switzerland glanced down at her.
"Try to have fun, okay?" She said, smiling, even as Switzerland snorted.
"I don't want you drinking, Liech."
The girl just continued to smile, but she didn't answer. "I'll be hanging out with Canada," she said simply.
"… Who?"
"Canada."
"… Ah, yes."
Switzerland strode into the bar first, his arms crossed defiantly over his chest as Liechtenstein walked after him, peering out from around his shoulder, as the other nations had become accustomed to.
"Hey, man! Swissy made it!"
Switzerland didn't know how the man managed to get under his skin each time. For a neutral country, he sure entertained a lot of violent thoughts towards the ex-nation. After all, Prussia wasn't a country anymore – it wasn't like anything bad would happen if Switzerland shot him. Alas, his rifle lay at home, and he had to made do with shoving all his ire into a single glare.
"Didn't think you'd be coming," Prussia said with a bit of a smirk. "What, did Liech drag you out here? Ha, I'm not surprised – she could lead you around on a – "
Prussia yelped loudly as Germany's hand connected with the back of his head.
"The hell, West?"
Germany just sent him a disapproving frown and turned to nod a greeting at Switzerland. North Italy was at his side, devouring a bowl of pasta, but he paused to make a happy "Ve~" sound and shout a small greeting to the Swiss nation.
Looking around, Switzerland could see almost everyone. Liechtenstein had wandered over to, ah… Canada, who was currently trying to detangle himself from America, who had wrapped a spidery arm around his waist. South Italy was yelling at Spain, who was chuckling something to France, who took the time to cease his argument with England – please, Switzerland found himself thinking, everyone knows you're both sleeping together – and answer quickly.
Russia was currently sitting at one of the tables, a cup of what was presumably vodka in his hand and a creepy smile on his face. China, who sat next to him, looked like he was trying to ignore his Russian companion as best he could while he spoke to Japan.
Greece was sitting in one of the corners, and at first glance he appeared to be sleeping, but really, he was just looking over at Japan, who was apparently trying to apologize for waking China up that One Night Where Nothing Happened Really. Poland, for his part, interjected, saying that everyone knew it had happened, and "you should totally, like, do it again some day." Lithuania just sighed.
"Oi, Specs! It's about time you showed up!" Prussia suddenly shouted. The door had opened again, and a rather windswept Austria stepped in, followed by a grinning Hungary.
"Prussia," Austria greeted coolly, violet eyes sweeping to the ex-nation with disdain. "I had hoped you'd be gone by now."
"Aw, Specs, that hurts!" Prussia whined, but he wore a smirk on his face that made Switzerland want to inch away or shoot him.
"Prussia," Germany said sharply as Prussia hopped off his barstool and sauntered over to Austria. Hungary, whose eyes were shining slightly, reached for something in her coat, and appeared to be fumbling with it in a hurry as Prussia reached Austria, who had calmly taken off his coat and hung it up on one of the racks before surveying the room.
"… Switzerland?" He blinked, shock registering in his expression. Switzerland narrowed his eyes and grunted, but said nothing.
"Hey! Hey, Specs! Pay attention to me!" Prussia said, grabbing the other's chin and forcing him to look up. "There, you can't look away now!" He said triumphantly.
"Prussia, I'd appreciate it if you'd let go of me," Austria intoned, but his voice held a warning to it. "Walking through the door only to be molested by you is not exactly how I wanted to spend this evening."
"I can think of a hundred better ways to spend this – hey! Swissy, what the hell?"
Switzerland had moved forward, grabbed Austria's arm and yanked him back with a fierce scowl on his face.
"No one wants to see it, you deviant!" He snapped, pulling the aristocrat towards the bar, which was currently being manned by Denmark.
"… Why are you here?" He heard America ask, to which Denmark only shrugged.
"Norway kicked me out again. I had nothing else to do."
"Then how about another drink, comrade?" Russia asked. America jumped and turned to glare at Russia. He looked at if he was about to say something, but Canada, who had been talking to Liechtenstein, had dragged him away before he could do anything. Switzerland growled something out and let go of Austria's arm, ignoring his former friend as the man rubbed his wrist absently. Switzerland rolled his eyes lightly. "You always were weak," he muttered before ordering two drinks. Denmark brought them over, surveying them both before giving Switzerland a small wink as Austria ran his finger around the rim of the glass. Switzerland shook his head vehemently, but Denmark just grinned and sauntered over to Sweden and Finland, ignoring the death-simulating glare Sweden was shooting him.
"I'm happy you came," Austria said suddenly, a slender finger still tracing the rim of his glass. "Though I am surprised."
"Don't count on it being a reoccurring thing," came the sharp reply. Austria nodded, seemingly accepting this fact, or at least taking it in stride.
He had always been like that.
Switzerland lay on the couch, his green jacket hanging off his shoulders, pulling at the white tee-shirt he had scrubbed until the seams were about to burst. He knew he should have called Hungary, but he didn't feel up to moving right now, and his body was still sore. Still, he couldn't ignore the calling of his stomach any longer. So, pushing himself up with a faint growl, the Swiss man made his way to the kitchen, intent on finding something to eat.
Settling down with something simple, Switzerland closed his eyes lightly, shaking his head. "Jesus, why am I still thinking about that guy?" he yelled to no-one in particular, threading his hands through his own hair and trying to ignore the fact that the man he was currently trying to forget about had probably done the same less than twelve hours previous.
It wasn't like Austria was a stranger to his thoughts. Ever since he had run into the man at the supermarket that one day, the former superpower had been an invasive presence in his mind, interfering with even the simplest things by planting memories unbidden, weaving them into his everyday life. Little things like walking through his garden made him remember how he had once pulled Austria through here as children, berating him on being so weak after the man had lost yet another battle to someone like Hungary or Prussia. The edelweiss, however, Switzerland found, was strongest reminder of them all. A painful remembrance of what they had once shared, the edelweiss remained the national flower of both Switzerland and Austria, and it continued to tie them together, though Switzerland would much rather forget about that right now.
Drumming his fingers on the tabletop, Switzerland leaned back as more flashes of last night flew into his mind.
This time, he didn't try to stop them.
"Poland told me you came because of Liechtenstein."
Austria was a tad more ruffled than before, but Switzerland knew it was because the other guests – by this point slightly hammered – had been rather overzealous in their greetings. Of course, Switzerland hadn't been watching Austria that whole time – he had been trying to find Liech in the crowd, and the damn aristocrat had merely gotten in the way, that was all.
He himself was feeling a bit more lightheaded as well, having downed a rather substantial amount of alcohol since Austria had left in favour of greeting and thanking everyone for coming. When he had gotten to Hungary, he had given her a small kiss on the cheek, thanking her for organizing everything. (Switzerland had taken a rather large swig at that, but it wasn't because of Austria's actions – no, it was simply because he had seen France grope England rather openly, and wanted to erase the images from his mind. Naturally.)
Prussia had, of course, demanded a kiss as well, "after all, Specs, I helped organize this too!" When Austria had merely frowned and given him a cordial show of gratitude, Prussia had reached forward and kissed the Austrian soundly before grinning and walking off towards the bar.
Switzerland had apologized to Denmark, promising to replaced the broken mug as he picked a piece of glass from his palm, frowning as small rivulets of blood cascaded down his skin and onto the floor. He successfully ignored the curious looks of the other nations, who had heard the glass shattering, and picked another fragment out, wincing slightly, as this one had left a rather large laceration in his palm. He must had pushed it further in when his fist had clenched, even after the glass had shattered.
"Here." Switzerland jerked as a white cloth was pressed to his palm lightly, dabbing the blood off. He looked up to see Austria, who was concentrating too hard to see the disbelieving look his former friend was giving him.
"This is a change," Switzerland finally said as Austria hummed lightly, nodding with an absent expression.
"Indeed. A rather interesting reversal, do you not agree?"
Switzerland grunted. It was getting to be a bad habit. "I can do it myself."
"I know you can," Austria mumbled, wiping away the last of the blood. Switzerland noticed his cravat was missing. Austria tore a piece of the cloth and dipped it lightly in alcohol before wrapping it around Switzerland's palm, followed by another, dryer strip of cloth.
"But let me do it, just this once," the violet-eyed nation said with a voice that could have been sultry. Switzerland wasn't entirely sure at this point; he supposed the drinks were finally getting to him. Still, he had no reason to believe Austria harboured anything towards him but affable acceptance nowadays, so he didn't brood on the topic further. As Austria turned to leave, Switzerland reached out and grabbed the man's wrist.
"Let me order you a drink." They were all prepaid for by Hungary, after all; it couldn't hurt his checkbook, or anything else.
Austria studied him briefly, and Switzerland noticed that the man's breath smelled faintly of wine.
"All right."
Switzerland snorted, rubbing his temples lightly. Of course he had gotten drunk – he wouldn't have slept with Austria otherwise!
Or…
Switzerland frowned, trying to clear the haze from his mind. Hangovers had always been a weird thing for him; he could usually stave off the most unpleasant side effects unless something else prevented him.
Something like Austria.
God knows the man had always been pretty – even as a child, with his violet eyes, straight brown hair and laughing face, Austria had been appealing. Especially when he laughed. Oh, God, that laugh that used to make the constant rescuing worth everything.
He hasn't laughed in years, Switzerland reflected as Austria laughed richly to something someone had. What that something was happened to be undetermined, however, as Switzerland's pleasantly buzzed mind wasn't up to the task of remembering what, exactly, France had said. Either way, Switzerland found himself enjoying the sound, closing his eyes and humming lightly in appreciation. Austria turned to him, violet eyes glowing in curiosity at the happy expression on the Swiss man's face, and promptly smiled when Switzerland opened one of his eyes and bestowed upon him a slightly cheeky – and very out of character – grin.
"Hey, Austria!" France was saying, one of his arms wrapped around England's waist as his head rested on golden locks.
England was drunk, too; that had been established when he had leaped onto one of the tables singing "God Save The Queen!" at the top of his lungs. Prussia had laughed and cheered him on without fear of reparation, as Germany had left with Italy, Spain and Romano some time ago.
"Angleterre, I believe you have had enough to drink," France had cooed lightly as he slowly grabbed the other nation's hand and helped him off the table, England muttering (and shouting) in some old language that no one else understood.
Now they stood side-by-side, England's head lolling back and forth. France, not nearly as inebriated as his companion, promised to get him home safely.
Liechtenstein had left with Hungary awhile back, the older woman promising to show her some videos she had acquired, as well as watch after her. Something about the way the Hungarian had said it was cause to make Switzerland feel uneasy, but it wasn't like Hungary had a mecca of gay porn videos in her house, so he wasn't too concerned.
Besides, he was hardly thinking about it, as Austria, continuing that rather interesting habit of tracing the rims of the glasses he drank from, had just slipped, his fingers sliding off the perimeter to land in the wine that sloshed around in his cup. Pulling them out, the Austrian stared at the digits with an expression akin to childhood fascination, before he slowly brought them to his mouth and began to suck lightly, his eyes sharpening in an almost predatory manner as he observed Switzerland watching, the neutral nation's emotions clear on his face, and in his eyes.
And what lurked there was hunger. Unadulterated, animalistic, I'll-take-you-right-here-right-now-on-this-floor hunger.
"I shall tell the others you said thanks, da?" Russia said, smiling innocently as Switzerland and Austria both stood, making their way to the coat rack.
Ah, so that's what had happened. In hindsight, it seemed so sudden. But, he supposed, it had been there for awhile. He knew it had. And even if the feelings hadn't been there, one would have to be blind not to want Austria, at least physically: he could be a cold prick sometimes, but he was still a gorgeous prick, something Switzerland knew the other nations had been aware of.
Something that had always annoyed him, however, had been Austria's haughty, Holier-Than-Thou phase. This, he supposed, was why he had broken away from Austria, during the Habsburg reign. Before Austria had married Spain.
After the World Wars, he had… mellowed, Switzerland supposed. Sure, he had become rather nitpicky, but…
Switzerland's head jerked up as someone knocked – or rather, banged – on the door. Frowning, he stood up, ignoring the slight stagger in his steps, and grabbed one of the pistols he kept in one of the kitchen drawers.
When he opened the door to a very angry-looking Hungary, however, he almost wished he had left well enough alone.
Liechtenstein stood behind the frying-pan-wielding woman, looking slightly timid as Hungary pushed her way into the house.
"Liech," she said, her voice deceptively sweet, "could you run upstairs for a moment? I need to talk to your brother."
When Liechtenstein had gone, Switzerland crossed his arms.
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"You know what," Hungary snapped. "Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about, Switzerland!"
And so an hour passed, with Hungary shouting at Switzerland and Switzerland yelling right back at her, until they both fell silent, Hungary panting like she had just beat up Prussia all over again, and Switzerland's hand itching to pull the trigger on the pistols he had clutched in his hands.
"… He loves you, Switzerland. And though you may not have realized it yet, you love him too." Hungary turned away and walked towards the front door, her head high. "I have to go. Hurt him like this again and, old friends or not, I'll give you the same treatment I gave France!"
He didn't have time to think. As soon as they had stumbled through the doorway to Austria's mansion, the pianist had slammed the blonde into the wall, his lips attacking the other man's neck and face.
"God, Switzerland… So long, I've wanted this for so long," Austria moaned, sucking on Switzerland's collarbone as other nation gasped. The green-eyed man responded by placing his hands on Austria's chest, feeling the rapid beat of the other's heart before his hands began moving, tracing and feeling and touching.
"What took you so long… then…" Switzerland groaned. Austria looked up, violet eyes clouded, looking mysterious in the dimly lit foyer.
"I was waiting for you."
Switzerland didn't remember the trip up the stairs. All he remembered was feeling the soft embrace of a mattress as he was pushed into it, Austria climbing on top of him with a strange glint in his eyes.
No more words were spoken. Clothes were pushed aside, Switzerland hissing as he fumbled with the buttons on Austria's shirt and Austria chuckling as he pulled Switzerland's white tee' over his head with ease. Switzerland slammed his head back against the pillow as Austria and his surprisingly talented mouth trailed south, leaving a path of saliva behind as everything else was removed.
Switzerland let out a loud moan as he felt himself being engulfed in Austria's mouth, the feeling of the hot, moist area making him keen loudly, his head tossing back and forth as Austria's talented tongue went to work.
"Ngh… Austria…"
Austria looked up, smirking lightly as he crawled back up, holding up three fingers. "Open," he commanded softly in a voice used to being obeyed. Switzerland obliged, lightly sucking on the digits as Austria moaned lightly.
"Ah, good," the aristocrat intoned before shifted down and positioning his fingers.
Switzerland let out a strangled gasp as one of the fingers entered, his body tensing up slightly as Austria looked at him levelly.
"Relax…"
"I…" Switzerland bit his lip as a second finger was added, then a third, stretching and scissoring lightly. "Austria, I…"
"Ssh. Roderich; my name is Roderich…"
Switzerland saw white as the fingers brushed against something, making his hips buck up reflexively. "My God, Roderich, more!" He cried as Austria chuckled, removing the fingers.
"Tease," Switzerland accused heatedly, panting as Austria shifted to another position.
"You like it," was the only reply before Austria pushed himself in slowly, smoothing Switzerland's brow as the blonde tensed up again, whimpering slightly in pain and knowing he'd berate himself for it later.
Austria was patient, though. He murmured comforting words and kissed Switzerland gently as the man below him adjusted, and his hands continued to trail down the green-eyed nation's sides, making Switzerland shiver and relax more. When given a faint nod, Austria smiled tenderly before he began moving, slowly at first and picking up the pace as Switzerland demanded more, and more, and more. It wasn't long before both their voices rose to the ceiling, and Switzerland was ever so grateful that no one else was here to see him, writhing and moaning and panting beneath Austria as the aristocrat showed him a side Switzerland hadn't known was in him.
Switzerland panted and arched up as Austria thrust again, hitting that spot just right. The pianist's lips were biting and sucking at his neck, and Switzerland had reached down to let his fingers explore lightly, gasping as Austria's hand moved up and down, driving him closer and closer to release. And when the heat in his stomach became too much to bear, Switzerland came loudly, his cries reverberating around the room as Austria followed suit, burying his face in Switzerland's neck as they rode it out.
In what they both knew was an overly clichéd action, Austria lifted his head and kissed Switzerland gently, his eyes falling shut as he rolled off, the plush white sheets tangled around their limbs.
Austria was the first to fall asleep after that, his eyes slowly closing as he smiled again, his hand reaching for Switzerland's.
"I love you, Vash," he whispered. "I always have."
He was asleep before Switzerland could reply. Blinking as he watched his new lover (Switzerland was having trouble comprehending that word) sleep, Switzerland was finally able to slap a name onto the churning feeling in his gut.
And so, settling down on the bed, Switzerland drew Austria's slumbering form towards him, resting his head on Austria's as the man mumbled something and nestled nicely against Switzerland's chest.
He couldn't bring himself to say it, not just yet, but he didn't doubt that Austria – Roderich – knew already.
And so, that thought in mind, Switzerland closed his eyes, drifting into a heavy, serene bliss.
In retrospect, Switzerland supposed, it was that last memory that drove him to stand here, at the door to Austria's mansion, remembering that the last time he had been here, he had been heavily intoxicated, the alcohol bringing down the walls he had constructed with controlled ease.
He had waited to come back. One day became two, two became three, and three became seven, but he was here now. Whether or not Austria would forgive him, he was here, and he would take whatever the man deigned to bestow upon him.
When Austria opened the door, it was to a defiant-looking nation. Not even controlling the baffled and slightly pained look on his face, the aristocrat wordlessly held the door open as Switzerland walked through, the familiar green jacket slung over his shoulders.
"Switzerland."
"Roderich."
Austria looked slightly taken aback by the use of his name, but he did not comment, nor did he tell his visitor to cease using it.
"I didn't think you'd come back."
Switzerland shrugged lightly before turning to fix Austria with a piercing stare.
"Look, Roderich – I'm not going to pretend anymore that this didn't happen, and I'm not…" He floundered for words, waving one arm instead. "I'm not going pretend that you don't mean something to me anymore."
Austria was gripping the edge of one of the tables, sagging against it slightly.
"I didn't think… When I woke up, you were gone…"
Switzerland felt another pang of guilt. Walking over, he stopped in front of Austria, their height difference becoming more evident as he did so, until it was almost a mirror of that time at the supermarket.
Austria looked up, straightening, the mask of nobility falling over his face. Switzerland narrowed his eyes, reaching one hand out to trail lightly down Austria's cheek, watching in hidden fascination as the man shuddered lightly under the touch, eyes closing.
"I'm willing to give us a chance, Roderich. But only if you are as well."
Austria's eyes suddenly snapped open again, and his arm was around Switzerland's waist before the other nation could even comprehend it.
"Ich liebe dich Schweiz, zweifel das nie an."
And Switzerland surrendered as Austria captured his lips in a single, breathtaking kiss.
-x-
Outside the door to Austria's Vienna mansion, a young woman smiled to herself, lowering the camera so that it rested lightly against her chest.
She was happy they had both finally gotten together. It had torn her apart to watch them as they moved carefully around one another, neither willing to mention something they both wanted.
They would be good for each other, she knew. While their personalities may differ – Austria's of a controlled gentleman and Switzerland's of a temperamental soldier – she knew it would work for them. Create a balance of sorts. And it made her happy. So very happy.
And so, with that thought in mind, Liechtenstein went to show Hungary the photo she had taken. And maybe watch some more of the other woman's 'educational videos.'
