Hello! For those of you that don't follow me on Tumblr, there's been quite an absence of my fics on here, and for that, I'm very sorry! I have been writing, quite a lot actually, but I've been posting all my fics on my Tumblr account and neglecting this one a little! I'm very sorry! If you would like to read more of my fics when I post them, rather than me forgetting to re-upload them here, definitely go check out my Tumblr which is on my profile for you! If you like this fic, Like and Reblog it on Tumblr as well~! All my fics are organised by pairing in the 'Fic Master Collection' link on my blog! Big smooches, and sorry for the delay in fics!
This fic was a prompt from Tumblr when I was taking requests. If you would like to submit a prompt for me to fill, I do open requests at random times on my Tumblr, so go check them out there, as not all prompts will be uploaded to my Fanfiction account!
This is some WWI era PruCan where they have a cute little fluffy picnic together under the stars somewhere in Europe. True story about the way that Gilbert mispronounces a few things—that is how I first said it when I was learning English. I made one of my best friends laugh so hard she nearly puked when I first said the word 'awesome' after reading it in a dictionary but not knowing how to pronounce it. Bah. I hope you enjoy it! Smooch smooch!
"It's so dark!"
"I know," Matthew hummed out softly, fingers laced with ones even paler than his own, though thicker and much more calloused, rough palms squeezing against his tightly.
"I can't see," Gilbert complained again, squinting through the trees as Matthew continued to lead him forward, only the fair blond shine of his hair visible, the cream of his coat now a brown tinged hue in the darkness, moonlight that seeped from the trees only catching in patches along their bodies, "I'm going to run into something!"
"You won't. Trust me."
He did. The Prussian trusted him so much, with all of his heart, to be lead into the depths of a dark forest, just so that they could hold hands in the outdoors, just to share a meal like other couples, just to pretend that the explosions and shells that had echoed in some town further north were just illusions, or pots that had fallen to the ground, and not The Great War raging. They would be hung if they were caught together like this, enemy soldiers, men, holding hands and moving in secret through the middle of the night. No sirens had gone off, so they were still safe.
"How much further?" Gilbert prompted after another minute, slowing his walk as an elbow pressed to his broad chest, watching the fair blond glow dip and shift forward.
"There's a step here, and a horizontal branch about thirty centimetres in front of you, be careful of it," Matthew warned softly, helping the man down, smiling kindly, "Not too much further, you'll see it soon."
Gilbert huffed, frowning a little as he was helped to duck, guided, feeling his cheeks begin to glow a deep pink.
"I'm not a lady or a child, you don't have to coddle me," he reminded as Matthew, ever the gentleman and aware of his surroundings, held a branch out of their way with the forearm of the hand that clutched onto a woven wood basket.
"I know. But I like doing this. Besides, you said you can't see well in the dark. I don't want you to run into a tree or fall into a ditch."
The chuckle was light, and Gilbert only blushed more at the mental reminder of the last time he had insisted that he was capable of walking without guidance, resulting in a large dirt smear from his thighs up to his mid back. Matthew had fallen against a tree laughing and simply curled up wheezing, unable to stop upon seeing his lover's rear end.
Not that being guided was resentful, as in the end, it meant that they were able to hold hands, gloved or not, and Gilbert appreciated the touch so much, eager for anything at all.
"There, can you see? Just beyond those trees," Matthew spoke up, glancing back at Gilbert, glasses catching the light and looking up at the man a few inches taller, "They thin out now. You should be able to see easier."
As those words filled the silent and lonely woods, Gilbert squinted once more, ruby eyes straining to pick up much beyond dark shapes of thick and old tree trunks, and the vague path they were taking.
"Nope."
"Just a little bit more," Matthew promised, their walk slowing, and the Prussian tilted his head a little, moonlight catching off his white hair and pale face, some flickering over his oddly coloured eyes, "There—Just in there, you'll see it."
"Birdie, I don't—oh."
Pushing aside another low hanging branch thick with foliage, the couple stepped into the clearing, moonlight bathing them fully and soaking the small clearing into visibility and colour. A small pond, though it could have been a lake by all means, sat itself on the edge of the clearing and snuck away deeper into the woods opposite of them, leaving them both wondering if it connected perhaps to a large body of water. The stillness was eerily beautiful, and the water glistened with a perfect reflection of the full moon, undisturbed by even leaves, though some floated by the edge of its bank.
Lips broke the spell of enchantment and Gilbert blinked rapidly, only to recover just as quick as his surprise hit and kissed Matthew back slowly, their lips closed but tender, their eyes falling shut. A thick arm wrapped around Matthew's waist, not slim but certainly not bulked out with muscles, more toned and firm and Gilbert could feel the power lying dormant in the shorter man. Shorter, but still tall. He was just taller, and that kept him feeling smug and proud.
"Gilbert," the voice warned playfully, "You're grinning. What are you thinking?"
A snort of a laugh was pushed from the albino's nose, long and larger than Matthew's with a crook in the bridge, turning it up to look up at the sky with a cocky smirk, his eyes hooded by white lashes.
"I'm taller than you."
A smack echoed in the clearing and Gilbert squawked indignantly as Matthew danced out of his hold backwards, basket in hand, grinning widely, having only given a small open palmed hit to the muscled man's chest.
"Say it again, Gilbert."
"I'm taller than you."
"Sorry? Again~!"
"I'm taller than you."
"I'm tahller zan you," Matthew mimicked in his best impersonation of a German accent, exaggerated, chest puffed out and head tipped back in mock arrogance, voice dropped a whole octave lower.
The smirk fell from Gilbert's face, making a grab for the other who simply ducked to the side, basket still clutched in his gloved hands and laughing, the air fogging up before his lips.
"English is a stupid language," he retorted, snatching once more for the Canadian, only to grab hold of the basket, make a move to yank Matthew with it, only for it to be released and get a chest full of woven wood.
"Say my name, Gilbert," the blond cooed, fingers lacing behind his back, hair fluttering as he moved.
"Why?" he replied, basket placed down carefully near the bank, grinning as he straightened slowly, lunging for Matthew who, damn him, sprung aside once more, quick on his feet and laughed once more.
"Vhy?" Matthew mimicked again, turning and running as Gilbert growled playfully, body mass harder to move quickly, simply barrelling forward with arms spread wide.
He made a grab for the shorter one, thinking he had him cornered and swung his arms shut like a hug, only to clap them around his own body and wind himself partially as Matthew simply ducked with another laugh despite his grown.
"That hurt," Gilbert complained, rubbing a bit at his chest, turning his eyes back to the other who was standing right in the middle of the clearing, amusement dancing in violet eyes.
"You would have crushed me then," Matthew sighed out melodramatically, shrugging easily, watching as Gilbert began to creep forward, smiling in a manner that was poison sweet and dirty and spoke of hidden plans, making the Prussian hesitate in his stalk forward.
"Then stop running."
"You chased too fast, your bird got scared of the quick movement and flew away."
Gilbert grinned wider, moving slowly, watching and eyeing Matthew who stood still, hands behind his back, the moonlight casting an illuminating glow around his body from behind, face dark though his eyes shone. Another step closer, and then another, and another. One metre away. Matthew had yet to move. Another step, another, and they were practically touching shoes. Reaching up, Matthew removed the dark blue cap that Gilbert wore and slid the fingers of his other hand through short platinum white hair, guiding the head closer and Gilbert allowed it, their lips meeting soft and tenderly.
Despite the arrogance, the boasting attitude and the roughness of his exterior and speech, Gilbert knew to be gentle, knew how to handle delicate things or treat them softly. Calloused fingers came immediately up to touch soft hair, fingers rubbing the strands and feeling them, curling locks around the thickness of each digit and letting them slide like silk along his skin.
That was something Matthew had found out. Gilbert loved to touch soft and fluffy things, couldn't resist reaching out to pet a dog, looked like he had heart palpitations not being allowed to pick up, stroke and nuzzle a baby duckling, got wobbly lipped and wide eyes when kittens approached him first and mewled while they rubbed against his boot or hip depending on if he was standing or sitting.
"Let's set up the picnic blanket," Matthew murmured against thin lips, waiting for Gilbert's arms to unwind before he moved.
They set up the blanket together; close by the bank and in the full view of the moon and stars, sprinkled across the sky like glitter catching in the reflection of the pond and their eyes and Matthew's glasses. Soft kisses were exchanged and Gilbert sat himself on one half of the blanket, a hand propping him up behind as he leaned back, one leg stretched out and one cocked so that it was bent at the knee and his foot rested on the ground just a bit off the blanket to keep it clean. Matthew had settled at Gilbert's side, their hips touching and had reached into the basket to pull out food that he had made. It had been his turn to provide the meal for their secret midnight picnic and choose the location.
"What do you think of this place? Nice, eh?"
"Yeah, it's pretty ahvsoam," the Prussian breathed, smiling as he stared across the still water.
Matthew froze, blinked and looked to Gilbert in confusion, quirking an eyebrow.
"Eh?"
Thinking he simply hadn't been heard, ruby eyes turned to Matthew, still smiling.
"I said it's pretty ahvsoam," he repeated, earning more confusion from the Canadian.
"I… Sorry, what word?" Matthew chuckled, turning away from placing the home baked apple pie to simply look to the taller man.
"Uh… Ahvsoam? Like… The meaning is…" Gilbert trailed off, lifting a hand to scratch at his neck beneath his ear, expression scrunching up as he thought. "It means really, really good. Very great."
Matthew blinked a few times.
"How's it spelt?"
"Uh…"
Digging into his jacket pocket, Gilbert fumbled for a little bit, frowning to himself as he thought, pulling out his pocket dictionary—German to English, and English to German—and flicked it open, pages fluttering and Matthew leaned in to look over Gilbert's broad shoulder curiously as German words flickered too fast to be read.
"Ehrfürchtig. Here, it's ahvsoam," he muttered, pointing at the word, waiting as Matthew adjusted his glasses and leant in, squinting, "Just below—"
"You mean awesome?"
"What?"
A laugh fell from Matthew's lips at Gilbert's look of utter confusion, turning his eyes up to look at the Prussian who was mouthing the word to himself.
"Awesome, that's the word you mean, right?" Matthew choked out, gripping onto his stomach with one hand, having to hastily place down the apple pie so as to not drop it.
"There is a 'w' in the word! Why is it not pronounced?" Gilbert asked, sounding almost offended by the near silent letter, "Why does the 's-o-m-e' make that sound at the end?"
The distressed loss in the accented voice only made Matthew laugh harder, doubling over to hide his face in his knees, a few tears clinging to the corners of his lashes from the force he was laughing with, the sound merrily echoing in and filling the clearing.
"Don't laugh, Birdie! Explain! English is a stupid language!"
"Awesome," he corrected through fits of giggles and sniggers.
"Awesome," Gilbert repeated, although his voice was miserable, snapping the pocket dictionary closed and stuffing it back into his pocket, grumbling in German.
"Ah, don't be like that, Liebling," Matthew cooed, grinning widely as he turned his body more, pressing his chest to the Prussian's arm, sliding his over the other's waist and tugging to coax him closer, hoping the German pet name would stop the other from sulking, "I'm sorry."
Gilbert turned his head back down to face the Canadian, still frowning a little, cheeks dark with embarrassment, showing easily on his pale skin, grunting and glancing back up at the moon, nose tilted up dismissively.
"Bitte," Matthew murmured softly, taking Gilbert's rough hand, limp and dead weight in his own, bringing the palm to his face and kissing it softly, sweetly, trailing his lips over the bump of every knuckle, violet eyes looking up imploringly at the Prussian, "Es tut mir Leid. Verzeihen Sie mir? Ich liebe dich, Gilbert."
Ruby eyes turned back down, unable to hold back the smile as Matthew guided his other hand to the fair blond curls, encouraging them to touch, knowing that the softness was something that could undo any strain and stress from the bulkier man.
"Ja. Ich verzeihe dir," he replied, accent rough and masculine, and Matthew smiled at the way the voice sounded so natural and in the language it was born to speak, leaning in as Gilbert leaned down to share a sweet kiss.
He had been forgiven of the little tease.
It didn't stop Matthew from muttering the mispronunciation under his breath from time to time during their picnic and sniggering.
Gilbert took his revenge when Matthew attempted the word in German.