Gilbert paced in his bedroom to the sound of the vacuum cleaner. That was typical West. Always cleaning, even on his own damn birthday.
The reason he was pacing was because he had forgotten to buy him a present. Just the thought made him pace even faster. He couldn't be a very awesome big brother if he didn't even have a gift, could he? No. Which was the source of his problems.
Sure, he had meant to go several times in the weeks leading up to his brother's birthday. He had just gotten distracted. Once he had seen an awesome toy for Gilbird, another time he had seen Roderich and had gone over to bother him, another time he had...okay, it escaped his memory, but it was probably important.
Gilbert sighed and rubbed his temples. He sat down on the irritatingly rock solid bed, only to collapse on it. He winced at the pain of his back hitting the not at all comfortable mattress as he stared at the ceiling. It was an odd, beige color. 'White,' he thought, 'I definitely think I should paint the ceiling white.' Of course, it wasn't his room, it was his brother's, but he was certain nonetheless that he knew what was best for the color scheme of it. Maybe he could paint the ceiling for his birthday. No, that was stupid. It involved labor.
There was a knock at the door, and he squinted at it, sitting up. It probably wasn't Ludwig, because he wouldn't have knocked at his own door, and for that matter, he could hear the vacuum running. "Come in," he said to the knock. The knock was painfully light, and now it bugged him because nobody he knew knocked like that. Roderich's knocks were loud and precise, Elizabeta's were rapid-fire like a shotgun, but nobody knocked in a way that suggested they were afraid of the door striking back, like this person did.
When the door opened and it was Feliciano, Gilbert was less than surprised. Really, he should have known. Now it made sense. The knock fit his personality like hand in glove. "Gilbert?" he asked, frowning slightly and looking confused. "What are you doing in Ludwig's room?"
Gilbert smiled at him. "Well, you see, West is off cleaning for the party, and I'm in his room because I'm trying to figure out what he has and what he doesn't have." It sounded good enough, anyway. He really didn't know why he was in his room, now that he thought about it. His room was boring and largely colorless.
"You mean you haven't gotten him a present yet? I got his a long time ago," Feliciano said, now also smiling as he nattered on. Gilbert was no longer listening to him, but an idea formed in his mind. It was pretty mean, and it was likely illegal, but it was certainly better than nothing. Hell, it was about nine thousand times better than nothing. Now he was smirking. West would be so thankful, he would die.
Gilbert continued to let Feliciano speak as he slowly made his way to ground level. He squinted as he looked around under his brother's bed. There were plenty of boxes, all of them flat and intimidating, but he wasn't sure which one held what he would need.
"I wouldn't look under there, if I were you," said Feliciano. Gilbert could here the frown in his voice.
"And why is that?" he asked, barely whispering the words. He opened one box and found porn. No, that wasn't it. Another one contained cheesy romance novels. Also not it. Very telling about what West did in his leisure time, but not particuarly helpful. Well, not for the moment, anyway.
"Well, I'm not supposed to look under his bed, so I'm guessing you aren't, either," he said. Gilbert rummaged around until he found a bottle of 'sleepy-time' Benadryl in one of the boxes. Half-empty, but it would do. It would have to.
"Dude, Feli, you are not looking so good," he said, making sure his wince looked somewhat authentic. He grabbed a glass of water that was sitting on the nightstand. Hopefully it wasn't laced with whatever the hell West took to be so 'soldiery' all of the damn time.
"I'm not?" he asked, his face turning pale. Gilbert used this to his advantage, and led Feliciano to the mirror.
"Just look at your face!" he exclaimed. "It's so white! I really think you should take this," he said, pressing the small liquid-capsule pill into his hand. Feliciano frowned.
"But I hate swallowing things that aren't food," he said, looking unsurely at the pill.
"I'm sure you do," said Gilbert, "but I'm concerned for your health. Now take this," he said. He handed him the glass of water. "Don't you want to be well for West's birthday party?" Now he felt kind of like he was being mean. It almost crossed the line into manipulation by this point. Oh well, only the best would do for his brother.
So Feliciano took the pill (getting water everywhere; Gilbert almost had a 'West' moment, wondering how exactly someone could fail so colossally at something as simple as swallowing a pill) and Gilbert glanced at the box. Fast-acting, it boasted. Well, that was just what he had wanted to read.
"Just rest, Feli, and I'll be back in about fifteen minutes," he said. He could only hope that one of the boxes under West's bed would contain what he needed. But who was he kidding? Of course it would. Sometimes Gilbert knew his brother better than he knew himself.
Thirty minutes later (give or take) Gilbert walked into the living room, where the vacuum still ran. To him, it sounded angry. Gilbert rolled his eyes at Ludwig, who didn't appear to have seen him yet.
"West! Come on, man! You need to stop doing that and start having fun!" He watched as his brother unplugged the vacuum and gave him a look.
"I am having fun," he said blankly. It was possible that this was true, of course. Ludwig was so anal that in all likliehood, he got serious kicks from cleaning. But the simple fact was that Gilbert didn't, so he shook his head at his neat-freak of a brother.
"Come on!" he whined. "You're not going to hear the doorbell over the roar of that, that behemoth! Besides, no one really has fun cleaning," he said, waving his hand dismissivley. Ludwig sighed one of his, 'your existence is the bane of my existence' sighs.
"Everyone's already here, Gilbert. I told them to wait upstairs while I finish vacuuming." His hand flickered over the switch, no doubt so he could continue to do it for another fifteen minutes, but then he shook his head. "Well, that's not true, some people told me that they couldn't make it and they aren't here, but they did send gifts that should be here in about a week or so, depending on what mailing service they used."
Gilbert sighed in exasperation. "No, West! That is not how it works! When people show up, that means it's time to stop freaking cleaning!" He grabbed the plug from Ludwig's hands and pulled away the vacuum cleaner, shoving it into the closet. "Now go tell all of those nice people that they can come down now."
Ludwig sighed yet again. "But the cake won't be ready for another fifteen minutes, what are people expected to do in the meantime?"
"Well, they'll have a lot more fun than sitting around upstairs. I mean, I'm sure right now France has popped in a porno, but I bet that won't buy you much time-" Gilbert didn't have to say another word. He knew that his brother probably cared more about the state of the couch than of the state of his guests' minds, but Gilbert wasn't going to be picky. Motivation was motivation.
"Presents?" Ludwig asked somewhat helplessly as Gilbert piled on the presents that everyone had brought to the party. "I doubt that I can get to everyone's gifts in time," he said, sounding unsure.
"Would you relax?" said Gilbert. "I have this figured out." He sat down in the chair next to his brother's. Normally Gilbert loved sitting at the head of the long, banquet-like table, but since it was his brother's birthday he could make an acception. Ludwig started arranging the presents, probably by wrapping-paper or something, in the way that only an obsessive-compulsive neat freak could.
"Open my gift first!" exclaimed Alfred at the top of his lungs. "Mine's the best!" Gilbert snickered, while Arthur rolled his eyes. Gilbert doubted that Alfred's present was the best (his present was the best, clearly) but his insistence was downright adorable. Gilbert examined the presents. Unless someone had a highly developed sense of irony, he assumed that the gigantic box wrapped in paper that bore minature American flags on it belonged to Alfred. Alfred had what appeared to be a sickening patriotism fetish.
"Fine," said Ludwig, picking up the box. It looked surprisingly light for its size. Neatly and precisely Ludwig peeled of the wrapping paper. Gilbert rolled his eyes.
"For Fritz's sake, West, open the damn thing like a man! Quit peeling it like an onion! Tear at it!" Ludwig gave him a look.
"You might as well," said Roderich, who across from Gilbert. "You can't save wrapping paper. I've tried."
"That's not true," called Vash, from the other end of the table. "You can save wrapping paper, but not that particular quality. I can tell from looking, that kind won't due at all to save. It tears too easily," he said. Great, now he had inspired a chat between the two resident cheapskates.
Ludwig, obviously tired of the group discussion, tore the rest of the paper off only to find a cardboard box. He looked at it questioningly before shaking it. It sounded like a smaller box was inside of it.
"Oh, that's your real present!" said Alfred. "I just put it inside of a refrigerator box so mine would be the biggest." Arthur smacked his forehead and Francis, who sat to the left of Gilbert, muttered something about 'overcompensation'. Gilbert snickered, and Ludwig sighed and stood up to remove the smaller box from the larger one.
He peered inside of the box. "What the hell is a snuggie?" he asked incredously. Gilbert began to laugh even harder.
"Oh my God!" he exclaimed. "He got you a Snuggie?" he asked through his laughter. "That's the funniest damn thing I've heard all day!" Alfred frowned at him.
"Hey! That thing's awesome! It's like, you don't feel like getting up to get a blanket, the heating is so expensive and shit, and you're visiting your brother's house and it's cold as hell, and it's a blanket with SLEEVES!"
There was a bit of a silence before a meek little whisper asked, "Did you just say my house is as cold as hell?" Gilbert turned and noticed Alfred's near-identical (in looks, at least) brother. No one else seemed to acknowledge him, however.
"Er..." Ludwig appeared to be thinking of something he could say. "Th-thank you very much, Alfred," he said, hesitating and tripping over his words. "And leapord print, that's very.." Gilbert snickered from behind his hand. Wow, Alfred.
"You git, that's the worst gift in the world! You're an idiot," said Arthur dryly. Alfred only laughed, probably because if anyone was a closet Snuggie owner, it was Arthur. He just seemed to be the type. Ludwig hurriedly grabbed the next gift, which was somewhat big and had three name tags on it.
"Ooh, that one's from us," said Liz, smiling broadly. Ludwig stared at her blankly.
"Who, you and Roderich?"
Roderich huffed and rolled his eyes. "No," he said firmly. "I have no part in that gift at all. I have nothing to do with it." Gilbert stared at the box eagerly. If Roderich was dismissing it, it was probably bad. Either that, or bad, bad as in really, really awesome. Either way, it was bound to be amusing.
"It's from me, Kiku, and Francis," said Liz, clarifying. Well. That made things very interesting. Very, very interesting.
"Oh, so the perverts all teamed up for West! That's beautiful," said Gilbert, grinning as wide as he could. He stood up and stood behind Ludwig, watching him unwrap the gift with trepidation.
"Do you mind?" he asked, turning around. "I don't particuarly need you breathing down my neck."
"Fine, but I still get to watch," he said, sitting back down but leaning across the table and looking at the gift. Ludwig stared into the box.
"It's got three boxes," he said in a deadpan tone. "These could have been opened seperatley," he said.
"I know," huffed Roderich again. "It's a complete waste of wrapping paper." Francis smirked.
"You should open mine first," he said. "Of course, you'll have to actually enjoy my present later, but mine is the best one, without a doubt." Ludwig picked up a small, flat square gift that said "Pour: Ludwig; De: Francis" on it. Francis was always abusing French. No one else spoke it but him, besides Matthew, but he overused it anyway. Come to think of it, he kind of had a patriotism fetish, too.
Ludwig held up a CD case after discarding the wrapping paper. "Francis, this is blank," he said, his voice apparently matching the CD. Francis shook his head.
"Like I said, you can't really enjoy it now." He paused. "Well, you could, but I highly doubt you would want to. This is a CD that I made myself, with help from Kiku. He helped with all of the technical bits, while I supplied the footage." The way he said 'footage' made even Gilbert feel a bit uncomfortable.
"Francis," said Ludwig sharply, "what is on this CD?" Francis laughed in his oh-so-obnoxious way.
"You'll just have to wait and see! I'll give you a hint, it involves the invasion of privacy," he said, winking at him cheesily. Ludwig sighed and set the CD aside. Hmph. If he didn't want it, Gilbert was more than happy to take it off his hands. He had no idea what was on it, but 'invasion of privacy' sounded promising.
"Open mine next!" squealed Liz. "Unlike Francis's, you can enjoy mine right now," she said, giving Francis a pointed look.
"Is this yours?" asked Ludwig, holding up the second biggest gift. Gilbert reached over and poked it. It was kind of soft. Interesting.
"No, that one is mine," said Kiku.
"Well, I'll open it because I already have it here," said Ludwig, while Liz pouted. Ludwig held up a shirt.
"This doesn't look like it would fit me, Kiku," he said. "Though I thank you for the thought." Gilbert glanced at the shirt, and recognition lit up his face.
"West, that is most definitely not your shirt," he said.
"What do you mean? It's still mine, I'll just have to exchange it for a larger size," said Ludwig. Don't be stupid, his face said.
"No, seriously, that's not your shirt. Nor is it something you would ever wear. Unless you're suddenly into West Side Story," Gilbert said, pointing to the front of the shirt. Ludwig turned the shirt around in his hands and held it up. "It's a shirt from someone who went to West Side Story. I don't even think Kiku went to West Side Story," he said.
"You're right," muttered Ludwig. "Kiku, what's going on? Did you make a mistake?" Gilbert shook his head.
"I don't think he made a mistake, and I don't think you know whose shirt that is. That shirt," he said, pointing to it, "belongs to Feli. God, West, how did you not know that?"
The color ran from Ludwig's face as he held the shirt in his hands. "You're right," he repeated, though his voice was a choked whisper. He went through the other clothes. All of the shirts were size small and kind of effeminate. There were some skinny jeans, some pajamas-hell, even Feliciano's old war uniform. There was even some underwear there. What the hell, Kiku?
"Er..Kiku?" Ludwig asked. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but did you steal Feliciano's clothes and give them to me as a birthday gift?"
Kiku smiled. "Yes," he said. It was odd that he wasn't apologizing. Kiku had usually had this innate ability to read any situation, meaning that normally the fact that Ludwig didn't like the pile of kidnapped clothese would register on his radar. Gilbert wondered if he knew something that everyone else didn't. Then again, his eyes were blank, and gave away nothing as per usual.
"Don't worry," said Liz, waving her hand. "He won't miss them. Kiku stole that stuff about a month ago and he hasn't noticed yet."
"Why the hell did you steal my brother's clothes?" asked Lovino. Why he had even shown up was beyond Gilbert, considering he thought of Ludwig as his own personal nemisis. Possibly to accompany his brother; and what a fabulous job he had done of that, considering where his brother was now. Even more confusing was his reaction time.
"And you're just now noticing this?" asked Gilbert. Lovino scowled at him.
"Stay out of this!" he said bitterly. Gilbert turned away, but not before giving him the finger. He ignored Lovino's cries of 'I saw that' and turned to Kiku.
"So, you gave West Feli's clothes? I'm sure he already has some of them stockpiled away somewhere, but hey, it's the thought that counts. Besides, when it comes to being a creeper and stealing the underwear-" Ludwig turned to Gilbert.
"I do not have Feliciano's clothes!" he shouted. He set down the pile that Kiku had given him on top of Francis's CD. "Nor do I want to," he added. Now he was facing Kiku. "I appreciate the, er, thought, but I really don't see why I would need his clothes." Kiku said nothing, his mysterious little smile still on his face.
"If you say so," said Kiku politely.
"Kiku, not everyone is a pervert like you are, aru," mumbled Yao. "Some of us don't come from places where they have vending machines filled with schoolgirls' underwear."
"Moving on," said Ludwig briskly. He held up what looked like a scrapbook. Gilbert rolled his eyes. Liz was always making scrapbooks of just about everything. Even creepier was the pictures they often contained-people sleeping, for instance. Oh sure, they were beautiful, until you began to question where exactly she had been to be able to photograph an event that no one could remember her being present at.
This appeared to be the case with Liz's scrapbook, because when Ludwig opened the book, his face went pale again, and it took him about five minutes to slam the book shut indignantly. Liz frowned, and Gilbert couldn't tell if her concern was genuine or not. Really, with that kind of reaction Gilbert just wanted see the scrapbook.
"Oh, Ludwig, don't you like it? I thought you would love it. It took me hours," she said, pouting. Roderich glared at her.
"You'll get no sympathy from me," he said stiffly. "I told you that your gift was, well, creepy. Not to mention costly," he added. Liz gave him the finger.
"In case you've forgotten, Roderich, you are not my mother, and I don't care what you think. Oh, and I'm asking Ludwig." She turned to face him so briskly that Gilbert could see her hair slap her in the face. "You do like it, don't you? I think it's so much better than filthy things like porn."
"Elizaveta," said Ludwig slowly, his voice laced with steel. "If that wasn't porn-" She cut him off.
"That was not pornography, and you know it," she said loftily. "For starters, people in porn are usually having sex," she said.
"And they usually know they're being photographed or filmed," muttered Roderich. Okay, now Gilbert had to know.
"What's in it?" he whined. Liz shook her head.
"It's not your gift, Gil. It would be really creepy if you saw it," she sad, shuddering a bit.
"Oh, so it's okay for me to have this, this, this most likely illegal book?" Ludwig sounded offended, but he held the book under his arm, and hadn't discarded it like he had the CD and clothes.
Liz shrugged nonchalantly. "Gee, he acts like he didn't want to see him naked or something," she said dryly.
"That's not-" Ludwig began, and then stopped himself. "I don't. Ever," he added. Gilbert peered at the book before snatching it from underneath Ludwig's arm.
"You can't have that!" he said, at the top of his lungs. Gilbert smirked at him.
"Why, West, whatever do you mean? I thought you didn't want it," he said. "So if you don't want it, I'll be happy to take it off your hands for you." He ran out of his seat and hopped over to the island, hiding behind it. He crouched on the linoleum and held the floral-printed book on his knees. When he opened it up, he closed it again. Well. It almost beat his own gift. Damn that Liz; she always thought on her feet. He stood up from behind the island.
"Wow!" he said at the top of his lungs. "What a horrible gift, Lizzy!" he exclaimed. She arched her eyebrows.
"Really, Gilbert? What about my present would Ludwig not like? You're his brother. You know him better than I do." Gilbert sighed, and ran his fingers through his hair.
"It's like giving a guy who makes bread a cupcake! Like giving a guy who makes TVs a remote control! Like giving a guy who owns a brothel-" Liz cut him off.
"Does this have a point?" she asked sourly.
"Of course it does! My point is, giving him a book filled to the brim with Feli doesn't matter at all because everyone knows he sees him naked all the time!" He hit Liz on the head lightly with the book before setting it on the table.
"What?" shouted Lovino. "What the hell does that mean?" Gilbert glanced at him.
"Once again Lovino, I'd like to welcome you to this plane of existence. Seriously, how is this just now getting your attention? You're such a freaking space case, I swear. Did you not notice how your brother hasn't even been here this whole time?" Damn. Well, this sucked. Gilbert silently cursed his inability to keep his mouth shut.
"What?" asked Ludwig angrily. "Gilbert, what trick have you pulled? If you did something illegal, I swear," he said. Gilbert glanced at the table, where the formerly-closed book was now wide open, and sighed.
"Damn it, West! For Fritz's sake, you don't get your present until later! Geez, learn to be patient, would you?" He opened his mouth to speak when he heard a noise. It sounded a bit like crying. If it was what he thought it was, he was in deep trouble.
"Uh," said Gilbert, "let me just check up on something. It'll take a minute. No one follow me!" he said. Wow, that was totally suspicious, but whatever; he could remedy it later.
"Is that his present?" asked Liz dryly. Gilbert didn't allow himself the luxury of panicking. Liz either figured it out, or she was being a sarcastic bitch as per usual. Possibly both, but he had neither the time nor the patience to sit around and ponder it.
"Yes," he replied absentminedly, "I got him a puppy, now shut up." He was about to leave when he noticed Ludwig behind him. "You stay here," he said.
"I'm almost positive that what you're keeping locked up that's crying is probably a human. Gilbert, how many times have I told you that that's illegal?' Gilbert sighed again.
"You can't follow me, you'll ruin your gift! I want you to, er, open mine last!" Oh, that sounded bad. Whatever, to West it was probably a somewhat normal sentence. "You'll ruin everything!"
Ludwig glared at him. "I don't trust you," he said. Gilbert glanced at the table where everyone else sat, confused but by no means silent. It was practically a riot.
"Everyone stay here," he said. "West will probably be about an ho-" He stopped himself. "Thirty minutes, give or take. Probably take," he added. The more he thought about it, the more sense it made to just tell Ludwig to check his bedroom and run.
"Your, um, gift, is on your bed. Enjoy," he said, and then he ran back into the kitchen where everyone else looked at him with confused faces. "If West asks, I died," said Gilbert before running upstairs, where it was safe.
He waited for a while, expecting the inevitable shout of his name followed by profanities, or the slamming of a door, or maybe even a gunshot. He had begun to question his decision to tell Ludwig that he was dead, because in all fairness, Ludwig had a lot to want him dead for. When he got bored after the first fifteen minutes, he counted the reasons on his fingers. 'Kidnapping Feli,' was his pinkie finger. 'Drugging Feli' was his ring finger. 'Tying Feli up and putting duct tape on his mouth while he was unconscious' was his middle finger. Gilbert shrugged. That was all he could think of. Still, at least two of those things were illegal, if not all three.
The upstairs consisted of a living room and not much else. It did have a couch, and a pretty crappy television with a DVD player, but that was about it. He pulled his iPod from his pocket and plugged it in, laying down on the couch and staring at the ceiling. He counted the dots that were on it. It was boring, but it wasn't like he could risk going downstairs on the chance that Ludwig was there, waiting and packing heat. He tried not to let the paranoia get to him.
He had counted 296 dots on the ceiling when there was a knock on the door. He wasn't sure how he had heard it over the blare of 'You Oughta Know'. Usually nothing was louder than Alanis Morisette in his earbuds. He turned off his iPod and set it on the table. Knock-knock-knock-knock. Rapid-fire. Liz. He sat up, rubbing his neck. "Come in," he said, squinting. Maybe he had fallen asleep; he wasn't entirely sure.
Liz opened the door. Her face was angry for about five seconds before a smile broke out on her face. She closed the door behind her. "You were right, Gil," she said, obviously trying very hard not to giggle and more or less failing. Gilbert cocked his head in confusion.
"Of course I was," he said, stretching his arms in the air. He yawned, and got off of the couch. "What about? Oh, and why the hell are you so happy?"
"The birthday party's cancelled!" she exclaimed, squealing. Great, just lovely. Ludwig had probably thrown a huge, pissy temper tantrum or something. Of course, normally he would have thought to check the upstairs if he had really wanted to find Gilbert, but whatever. He wasn't dead, that was what counted. But then it occured to him; why was Liz so happy?
"Dude, that's not cool. That sucks," said Gilbert. "What the hell, I try to get him the best present in the world and I fail? Damn," he said. Liz cocked her head slightly at him.
"Tell me, Gilbert, what exactly was your 'gift' to Ludwig?" He gave her a 'you're-a-dumbass' look.
"Well, if Ludwig had himself some brains, I gave him the gift of getting laid. Indirectly. But since he obviously doesn't, he probably squandered the marvelous oppurtunity I bestowed on him. Because he's stupid," he added. Liz giggled again.
"So, you tied up another human being in the hopes that your brother would rape him? Really, Gilbert?" Normally Liz's words would hold more weight, but Gilbert felt like he was missing something. She practically laughed through her words.
"Um, no," he said, frowning. "My goal was 'tie up that stupid boy that my brother has the hots for who just so happens to have the hots for him in return' and then let them have consensual, if weird-as-fuck, sex." He winced. "Did my awesome plan somehow fail? I mean, you'd think even my brother would know not to screw up something like that."
"Don't you get it, Gil? It is you who doesn't have brains," Liz said, smirking at him. "Honestly, what the hell do you think he's been doing for the last hour? Good lord, Gilbert, seriously. For someone whose end goal was to get his brother 'laid', as you put it, it doesn't seem like you knew it when it actually happen."
Gilbert's mouth dropped open. "No way," he said, "are you serious?" She giggled yet again. Liz was never really the kind of girl who giggled.
"I went looking for him because I got worried about him, and what I saw was-" she paused to hold up her fingers into 'finger-quote position'-"consensual, weird-as-fuck sex." She smiled fondly. "Luckily for me I had my cell phone in my pocket. Hopefully Francis or Kiku got some high quality shots for me. I myself didn't go back, but I hear they did several times."
Gilbert shook his head. "Wow, that's...wow. So the party's cancelled." Liz nodded.
"Though I think he might have said that so I'd get out of his room. Either way, no one's leaving so it doesn't matter. Want to come down now?" Gilbert shrugged.
"Sure," he said. He smiled to himself. His gift was once again the most awesome. Well, that wasn't a shock.
