(Right now this is all very innocent, but I'm rating it M for the future chapters. I'll try to produce new chapters as often as I can!)
Künstler had to admit. He was lonely.
Neither Vash nor Roderich had visited him for so long, and yet they lived so close to one another. The last time the three "brothers" had met, was in spring, as they joined to watch the operetta "Die Fladermaus" together. Roderich and Künstler were enjoying themselves to the fullest, while Vash had been playing with his army knife through all of the acts.
The pale boy lifted his knees up to his chin, pouting. He loved both of his brothers, deeply, even if he didn't show it that well. He was shy, after all. Künstler's face became flushed, just by the thought of confessing to someone.
"Love is a form of art that is far too complicated for me to understand!" he yelled inside his mind. The boy had many times tried to wrap his head around what "Love" actually was. He had even tried to express it on canvas, but failed to understand each time. He was interrupted by hearing a tap on the door to his sphere. Künstler hopped down from his couch, tiptoeing over the wooden floor to avoid stepping on his tubes of oil-based paint. Stains of that kind took months to get rid of.
As he opened the door curiously, he was greeted by the smiling face of his oldest brother, Roderich.
"Hi there, Kugel." He chuckled. His cheeks were painted red and his back was heaving, so Künstler figured he had wandered quite a bit.
"Hello Roderich." He replied, trying not to seem too happy and by that end up looking desperate. "What are you doing here?" The younger boy made an inviting gesture to his home. Roderich accepted the invitation and entered, shutting the door behind him.
"Nothing in particular. I was in the area and I thought I could visit my younger brother, that's all."
Künstler was a bright boy, so seeing how flustered and panting Roderich was, he could jump to the conclusion that he was in fact not "in the area". After realizing, it made his heart skip a beat and his stomach convulse.
"Big brother had come all this way just to see him?"
"So, how have you been doing?" Roderich continued, taking his shoes and violet coat off. "Let me guess, making art?"
Künstler, still in a minor shock, thought about the question. "To be honest… no." he uttered, a blush spreading across his face. "I haven't felt any creativity for a while."
Roderich almost looked disappointed. "Oh."
"Well-" he continued to break away the silence, "Aren't you going to hug your big brother? It was months since we saw each other."
The boy started blushing even more, even though he had hugged Roderich loads of times before. It just felt so different this time. What was happening?
Roderich looked at his little brother, his pale face making it even easier to see the blush he was wearing. "Um…" he uttered, making Roderich freeze. Wait, why was his little brother blushing at the thought of hugging him?
The two brothers burning up, avoiding all sorts of eye contact, formed an excruciating kind of silence. After minutes of pacing back and forth, Roderich finally broke the silence.
"Kugel" he said. "Why were you blushing?"
"I don't know." He murmured, muffled by his face being buried in his hands. "I'm sorry about that."
The older of the two looked at Künstler again. He looked as stunning as ever. His usual white braids, and his red beret, a pair of tanned shorts and knee-high white socks, leather bowling shoes, a normal white shirt and a moss-green west in manchester fabric. His soft, milk white skin was even cuter when it had a pink blush on it. Roderich froze again, this time disturbed by his own thoughts. Why was he thinking like that way about his baby brother?