I do not own Axis-Powers Hetalia!
Author's note: This is a fic containing numerous short stories about life at the Germanic household; some of them are connected while some are just individual stories.
I just love the idea of Germany, Prussia and Austria being one happy family!!
ENJOY
Gilbert Weillschmidt stared at the digital clock on his bedside table.
The luminous numbers read 6:45a.m. He groaned and buried his face into the pillow, but it didn't help blocking out all those noise. He had spent half an hour tossing in his bed, trying to get into a comfortable position and go to sleep, but it only served to worsen his headache.
He rolled over to face the ceiling, panting slightly, having almost stifled himself for lying facedown on the pillow. He winced as pain shot around his head like electricity due to his sudden movement.
He cursed and massaged his temples, feeling a bit better when something sharp prickled his left ear. 'Ouch! What was that for?' he shot up and hissed at the yellow fluff on his pillow.
The little fur ball chirped, and it pecked him again with a tiny orange beak. It was his bird. It extended its wings and flitted to his wardrobe to perch on top of it, its beady eyes fixed on him. It seemed to have enough of him moving around and disturbing its sleep, Gilbert pinched his ear and muttered, 'Hey, I'm the one lacking sleep.'
He dropped onto the bed again, grabbed the tissue box from the table and scrunched up two tissues into balls. He stuffed them into his ears, hoping that they'll block out the worst of the noise, but they didn't. Letting out a loud grunt, and earning a disapproving squawk from his bird, he yanked out the makeshift earplugs, kicked off the covers and staggered bare-footed to the door, he flung it open and blundered to the source of the 'noise'.
He had to stop in the corridor to wait for a sudden wave of dizziness to pass away, then he walked down the stairs carefully through his blurry vision to the living room. The 'noise' was getting louder and it was like a sledgehammer ramming into his head, he was surprised that his head hadn't exploded yet.
***
The heavy velvet curtains were drawn, allowing sunlight to pour into the living room. A veil of golden light settled on everything, giving them a strange, ethereal glow. But Gilbert wasn't in the mood to admire the sight, he shielded his eyes with the back of his hand. It took a painful moment for his eyes to adjust to the light.
Then he spotted the culprit, sparkling in the sunlight was a jet- black Grand Piano.
He sidled around it and caught the attention of its owner by slamming a hand on its smooth surface. Its owner, with his chestnut hair slicked back neatly and his gold-trimmed glasses, was none other than Roderich Edelstein, or simply known by Austria by most of his friends.
He regarded the haggard young man coolly and continued dancing his slender fingers across the black and white keys.
Gilbert leaned on the piano with his arms crossed, a vein popping on his forehead. It was no use yelling at the aristocrat while he was playing. Though the urge to smash his glasses was overwhelming, he restrained himself when he thought of Elizaveta coming for him with a frying pan. He waited patiently, which he rarely did, for the aristocrat to finish his damn piece.
Finally, he turned to him.
'Strange to see you up so early.' He said casually, taking out a handkerchief from nowhere and wiped off the fingerprints Gilbert had left on the piano.
Gilbert scoffed, he massaged his temples again as the relentless headache continued to torture him. If Roderich hadn't been making all those 'noise', he would've slept till 10:00a.m like he usually did.
'And who is the cause of that? Do you have to play this chunk of--- wood you call instrument this early in the morning?' he glowered at the aristocrat, trying to look as intimidating as possible.
But as expected, Roderich was immune to it, he tidied up the music sheets and closed the cover of the piano with upmost care.
'Good morning to you too, Prussia.'
Gilbert scowled, he tended to call him by his nation name whenever he was annoyed, referring his prized piano to a piece of wood must've upset him.
Thinking of that, he allowed a smug smile to spread on his face. He watched as Roderich pushed the chair back into its place, exactly paralleled to the piano.
Gilbert's smile vanished, he had a sudden urge to kick over the chair.
The aristocrat was always doing everything neatly and flawlessly. He remembered when he had invited Francis and Antonio, aka 'bad friends', over for a party last weekend and had messed up almost everything in the house. Roderich had cracked his head with his violin (The bad friends escaped through the backdoor), and forced him to buy a new one for him because "This is your entire fault!", and he had jabbered about how valuable his old violin was all the way to the shop. But the look on the aristocrat's face when he had entered the house was certainly worth all that.
He sniggered subconsciously at the memory, Roderich, who had just fetched his violin (the one he'd been forced to buy) from a mahogany cabinet, stared at him as if he'd got rabies. But Gilbert misinterpreted the look.
'Look, I know I'm so charming that it is impossible not to stare, but can you stop looking at me like that? You're embarrassing me.'
He ran his fingers through his hair, and admired his reflection on the spotless piano. But the face that looked back at him hardly looked charming. His tousled silver hair and the huge bags under his bloodshot eyes gave him the look of a tramp.
'I look awesome.' He said pathetically to the reflection and switched his attention back to Roderich.
The noble shuddered visibly. He pushed up his glasses and said in that calm, sophisticated voice.
'I suggest you to have your eyes checked. But before you do, please put on some decent clothing and don't wander around in your under garments.'
'These are decent to me!' Gilbert retorted, sounding offended, he had a black vest on, and boxer shorts (with the pattern of the Prussia national flag).
'I look amazing, no matter how I dress anyway, you're just jealous.' Gilbert said haughtily, he sized Roderich up, who was dressed in a white shirt with a cravat tied at the neck, and black trousers. Simple and neat, as always. He snorted.
Roderich just shook his head in distaste and started tunning his violin.
'You are not playing that!' Gilbert snapped, suddenly remembering his purpose of coming down the living room.
He wasn't exactly someone who resents music, in fact, he used to play flute himself. And he admitted that Roderich played beautifully so it wasn't that insufferable hearing him play. But being woken up by it early in the morning when you've got a major hangover was really something.
'It's six o'clock something in the morning! Is this the way to treat a man suffering from hangover?' he groused. Roderich didn't answer, he noticed that his eyebrows were twitching irritably.
'I—'
He paused as the familiar clang of the grandfather clock resounded throughout the house. 8:00 Am.
Deciding he was not getting any sleep anyway, annoying the hell out of Roderich could perhaps compensate for his sleepless hours.
'I swear you're disturbing my sleep on purpose, never thought you're that horrible.'
'It's Sunday. I'm free this morning so I decided to practise a bit. I'm not doing this on purpose.' he said indignantly.
'You are!' he watched with glee as his face flush at the accusation.
"I'm not.'
'You are!'
'I---Listen, Prussia, I don't want to pick a fight with you.' The way Roderich hissed the words through gritted teeth told him that he was making a strenuous effort not to snap at him.
'You are!'
'You are being immature, O-baka-san!'
'At least I won't try to ruin other people's sleep with that chunk of wood!'
Roderich took a deep breathe. He looked as if he was about to drop his aristocratic façade and burst with fury. But he managed to control himself, much to Gilbert's disappointment.
'Allow me to express my anger using the violin!' He said as he positioned the violin on his shoulder.
Before Gilbert could snatch his violin, he launched his 'Rhapsody of Wrath'. Being extra sensitive to sound due to his hangover, he couldn't help but grimace as the sharp notes pierced the air.
'Oh for God's---'
---
'What is all that noise about?' Ludwig Weillschmidt entered the living room. He had his brow furrowed, he stared at Roderich, who was playing the violin violently, then at his brother. He could already guess what had happened.
Gilbert bounded over to him, almost tripping over his own feet on the way in his haste.
'West! Make him stop!' he whined petulantly, and pointed at Roderich, while giving his him puppy eyes. His brother's pleading gaze was often hard to ignore, and he always ended up relenting to it. But this time, it wasn't really effective, maybe because of the dishevelled appearance.
'Nii-san. What have you done again?' he asked. Gilbert was pouting now, and he was massaging his temples furiously. He couldn't understand why Gilbert was acting so immature, when he was suppose to be his elder brother.
'Why does it have to be me every time? It's his fault!' he yelled over the music Roderich was making. Ludwig knew it was no point stopping Roderich while he was… 'Expressing his anger'. The best solution was to wait for him to finish the whole piece.
'Because it is always you causing the trouble.' He said, glancing at his brother's wrinkled undergarments.
'By the way, put on some clothes.'
'I am wearing clothes! Damn!' Gilbert stormed over to the sofas in a fit of pique, grabbed a pillow, and hurled it at Roderich.
He caught the pillow just in time before it collided with the aristocrat, who was still playing the violin, and threw a stern look at his brother. Gilbert muttered something like 'you're all picking on me 'cause I'm awesome' under his breath and dropped onto the sofa with his fingers stuffed in his ears.
Ludwig took a frying pan out of the cupboards and placed it on the stove, turned on the fire, and took a few eggs and leftover sausages from last night. And he started making breakfast, listening to Roderich's 'Rhapsody of Wrath'.
***
By the time Ludwig had finished making breakfast, Roderich had finished playing his violin.
He put the instrument into the mahogany cabinet and helped him to place the plates on the dinning table. While his brother was sprawled on the couch, groaning about his hangover.
He shook his head. Roderich glared at Gilbert, and went upstairs. He raised an eyebrow as he returned with a bottle of Aspirin in his hands. He watched with concealed amusement as Roderich dropped the medicine onto Gilbert's chest with his head turned sideways.
'There are actually Aspirins in the bathroom cupboard in case you don't know.' He said coolly and returned to help him placed the food on the plates.
'Aw, how sweet of you.' His brother said with mock gratitude and shuffled to the kitchen with the bottle in his hand. Ludwig followed him, making sure that he didn't take the aspirins with coffee.
As expected, he made a beeline for the coffee machine.
'No you don't. You are not drinking coffee today.' Ludwig chided as he grabbed Gilbert's lean shoulders and ushered him out the kitchen.
'You are such an ass, West, I'm your brother!' he said.
Ludwig shook his head as he poured his brother a cup of water.
'Argh, eggs and sausages again. Can't we have a more luxurious breakfast? It's not like we haven't got any money.' Gilbert complained as he sat down at the table. He grabbed a fork and poked at the sausages.
'Leftover sausages from last night… I hate leftovers, West, why don't you just throw them out?'
'You shouldn't waste food. They are eatable aren't they? And think about the extra money spent just because you want a more luxurious breakfast. O-baka-san.' Roderich said.
'Stingy bastard.'
Ludwig watched them exchange a glare and sat down himself. He handed the cup to his brother and picked up his fork. Gilbert unscrewed the cap of the aspirin bottle and gulped down two pills with water. Then he forked a sausage and stared at it.
'Hey West, can I let the dogs in? It's really hot outside.' his brother said after a moment of comfortable silence. They had three dogs, two German Shepherds and a Golden Retriever; they were usually kept at the backyard.
'No.' he said, forking a sausage. 'I know you are going to sneak them sausages under the table.'
Gilbert instantly switched to puppy eyes mode. 'West~'
Roderich sent a disapproving look his way. 'Come on, West, please?'
'Fine, but clean their paws first with---'before he could finish his sentence, Gilbert had already dashed to the door leading to the backyard. The sausages in his plate had mysteriously disappeared. The dogs gambolled into the house, leaving muddy paw prints all over the floor and all over Gilbert as they tried to get whatever was in Gilbert's gasp. Then they followed him to the table, chewing nosily.
'I didn't sneak them food under the table.' Gilbert sat happily on his chair, wiping his hands on his boxer shorts.
'No food wasted.' He added as he attacked his scrambled eggs.
Ludwig felt the glare of Roderich boring into him.
'I will not clean that up for you.' He said.
Ludwig continued eating his breakfast with a sigh, while Roderich started admonishing Gilbert for his lack of table manners. The dogs paced around the table, searching for more food.
Just another Sunday morning.
O-baka-san: A phrase used frequently by Roderich when he's scolding other people. I guess it's a more polite way of calling somebody an idiot.
Nii-san: Elder brother
Thanks for reading! Reviews, anyone?