*Cough*Cough*

Hye! Okay... acttually, i wanna write more on my 'YAOI life of Ludwig' but i don't heve enough time and I'm hiding from my mom cuz I'm baned from the computer. Hahaha, i know, horrible.

Actually, i liked humor and (especially) smut among other genres...

But... yeah... my writting is most tolerable for angsty fic! Dunno why though... =u=

Gotta release some tensions dude!

RUN NOW! You're about to read the worst fic EVER!

For the sake of humanity! Leave!

xxxx

He was beautiful. Gilbert remembered as he watched Ludwig.

He was...

Blue eyes so intense, it seemed like they go on forever. Threatening to pull him into the abyss of forever eternity that it didn' even exist (because it didn't), but it gripped Gilbert with a feeling towards his (dear)bruder that wake his stomach churn with (what he guarantee is) hatred.

Golden locks of hair, oh so smooth, as if it would melt at the slightest touch. At times, (at wierd times) Gilbert would think of him as the sky in a sunny day.

And at those exact (odd) times, he would find himself loathing his brother more than he thought possible.

Yes. The sky is beautiful, Gilbert agrees. Gorgeous. Outstanding. Things happen, and yet no matter what, the sky is bright. It pretends nothing ever happened and 'today' comes again.

And that's why Gilbert hates it so much.

Because that's how Ludwig is.

But at other (awkward) times, Gilbert won't really hate him (much).

He reminisced the time when he first saw those blue and gold, so innocent and pure. Then, they flamed with ambitions and determination. Darken with vengence and humiliation soon after. Made a sequence of changes from hopefullness, insecurity and fear so quick he can't remember which came first. The worst part was the defeat and (what he wanted Gilbert to think as) apology.

He changed so much. (too much)

And now, those once stunning blue eyes carry dark bags under them, hazed with short sightedness from reading small fine texts. The silky strands patched up in an invisible helmet, oiled and tainted with hair gels because other people (and himself) won't except how he was. Broad shoulders sagged with responsibilities he cared too much over himself.

He looked utterly disgusting.

(But still beautiful)

His hands reached out before he knew it and Gilbert found himself completely interested to where it's heading. Mind fixated on his own involuntary movement, legs following later, towards his brother who was preparing Kochklopse (Soßklopse) (konigsberger klopse) for dinner.

Suddenly, utter curiosity took over him. Demanding him to touch the man. To feel him under his own skin, to discover either the skin is still as plush (and living), to seep in the warmth (that was so cold), to carry him in his arms (that will never fit again), to taste the flesh (that was just like many others but it isn't but it was), to mark him with broken tissue and blood and sweat and scream and moans and hurt and...

"Brother? What are yo-"

BANG!

Ludwig fell ungracefully onto the floor. The bowl of meatball cought his arm in his reflex to stay up straight and fell with a loud crash, pieces of glass mixing the food, forever contaminating it.

Shards of glass nicked his feet and hands, but Ludwig's attention was only one; staring dumbfoundedly at his brother (the pain on his cheek and the taste of blood quite a bit too, but still).

Gilbert took no more than 2 seconds before he moved and headed to his room in the (Ludwig's) basement. Contently ignoring his brother's cries of confusion.

"B-Brother?"

He descended the flight of stairs.

"Gilbert? What's wrong?"

Closed and locked the door.

"Brother! Please!"* bang, bang*

And leaned on the barrier (like how he used to back when the wall was still up) for safe measures.

He lifted up the fist he used to punch his (precious) baby brother with and inspected it like a prized jewelry, rotating and turning it around as Ludwig shouted to him something he didn't (need to) understand. *'What did I do?' 'Brother? I'm sorry!' 'What's wrong? Tell me!' 'Come on!' 'Please!' 'Okay! I'll buy that new game. Is that what you want?' 'Brother!' ' Gilbert!' 'speak to me!' 'PLEASE!' '...please...'*

He brought the hands to his lips, and kissed it like he would to a lady. But it formed and morphed from languid and gentle, to a hot passionate one. Mouth opening, laving it up hungrily,tongue licking and tasting as if never sated, suckling ever so often. Breathing loud harsh pants through his nose. Nipping, biting , leaving red angry marks, coating his fist with so much saliva it dribbled down his wrist and dropped silently on the carpet.

When he slowed down to a stop, but lips still planted at the knuckles, Ludwig had left. The room echoed with silence, only then did he noticed how he was trembling, shaking, and shivering.

With lust.

"Still so beautiful West..." Gilbert mumbled as his other hand moved further south.

His member was standing straight in his pants.