Note/s: …I have so much love for Canada I started this even if I'm only two chapters into the other story. I'M SORRY HUSBAND ;A;
Story title is from the awesome Jason Mraz song 'If It Kills Me' …just ignore the teeny part that says: "we get along much better than your boyfriend" ; enjoy a slightly homophobic Prussia~ and the bad friends trio verbally lashing out on each other.
oh and lastly, this is unbeta'd. It'd be great if somebody wanted to fill that spot in since my sister usually conks out before I finish writing XD Leave a review, or a PM or something. I think my email's up there...somewhere or whatever.
Summary: Prussia is ignorant and doesn't know any better. His two best friends are gay and the only person he thinks he can run to at this point is in love with him --then again, he's too thick-headed to piece that much together. PruCan, that has a little France/Spain XD More characters later, hopefully. Unlike the other story, I don't have this one mapped out so well. But eh, if it goes, it goes? :3
'If It Kills Me'
pancakes: for awry mornings and for the distraught
It would never, ever, ever be the same.
Ever.
And Gilbert's mind could not scream that enough.
The change was too drastic, too fast, too much and from another universe entirely.
...a universe of rainbows, unicorns and bendy straws.
"Gil it's not what you think!"
Screw the fucking bendy straws.
"What—just…what?"
Wait, never mind the screwing. They'd like that.
Gilbert shuddered and closed his eyes, willing and praying to every heavenly being to bless him with the power to turn back time and keep him from ever making the simple mistake of not knocking on the door.
Francis flicked off the falling ashes from the butt of his cigarette before taking a long drag and leaning back against the headboard of his bed.
"I don't see why we need to cloud our dear Gilbert with anymore delusions. It's probably for the best that he knows."
The aforementioned Spaniard sat on the mattress Indian-style, hands nervously clenching and letting go of the pillow on his lap. He eyed his Prussian friend with worried look and then turned back to Francis who seemed to be the only calm one while this whole scene played out. Antonio tried to think of ways to make things 'all better', or at least, the words to make Gilbert understand but even he knew it would take much more than that and much longer than just one sitting. He knew enough, through the way Gilbert's shoulders were tense and his eyes were wide and his hand was still on the doorknob, to deduce that he was still in a self-absorbed state and anything that was to be said or done would not be processed right –in any way, at all.
"We were…we were going to tell you…soon, er…some day." Antonio tried, chancing another glance at his friend, whose eyes narrowed.
First reaction from him.
Not good.
Francis, however, cut in before the Prussian could speak his mind.
"My dear Gilbert, do close the door before the whole hall confirms that you have taken up a hobby of befriending queers now. You wouldn't like that, I'm sure. Judging by your very accurate fish impression a little while ago, especially."
With a grunt, he stepped inside the room and shut the door behind him, not at all caring for the loud bang that followed.
"I was a lot happier not knowing, Tonio, thanks. "
A flicker of pain crossed the Spaniard's face for a brief moment before Francis gave him an admonishing look that said 'don't take that to heart, you know he's just being an idiot', he settled for sigh.
"What are you two supposed to be anyway?" Gilbert bit out angrily. He knew the other two did a lot of things on their own and they were roomed closer to each other which meant—oh fucking no.
"Well, mon ami." He sat up right as he reached for the ashtray on the side table to put his cigarette out. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed before turning to regard his friend with an amused expression. Antonio watched the would-be exchanged quietly from his spot.
"We, as in Antonio and I, are seeing each other—"
"You aren't seeing each other!" The Prussian exclaimed, flailing his arms about dramatically for emphasis. "If you were seeing each other, you'd be looking back at each other from a good distance away. This –this is—you're doing each other! There's a difference! A big fucking difference!"
Francis rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes to ease the coming migraine from his friend's second grade logic and over-all stupidity.
"Fine. We were about to fu—"
"Don't be so crude." Gilbert stepped back, distaste written all over his face.
The other two snorted at the irony.
"I still refuse to believe it! You two—and behind my back too." Francis was about to come up with some sort of rebuke but Antonio had, surprisingly, beaten him to it.
"Oh can it, Gil." He threw the pillow to the side and moved to stand up, as if to rise with heat and intensity of the moment, some other kind of passion than the usual bedroom sort. Right now, it would be wrong to say that Francis was a teensy bit turned on by that and he rightly, reserved that compliment for when they were alone.
"We were going to tell you, I swear. In a better less backstabbing-like situation."
"This is mutiny, I tell you!" The Prussian continued with his tirade and the two were both too exasperated to be amused.
Antonio stepped forward, his pants falling with his first step. He pulled them up and buttoned it awkwardly.
"This isn't a ship, Gil." He tried, once he deemed himself suited and descent enough to be heard out. He even chuckled a little to try to lighten up the mood but it didn't seem to be working out the way he wanted it to.
"Oh this is. This was friendship and I am now abandoning it." This conversation was going downhill. Facing facts, it had already started at a low point off the bat but Antonio was determined to keep the peace.
"So cheesy Gilbert." Francis laughed lightly and shook his head of dirty blond hair before tucking stray locks back. "You might not be far off from where we stand."
So much for keeping the peace.
It didn't take much to notice how deeply affronted Gilbert was by that comment. They both had retaliations for that look but they'd known each other for too long and though the Prussian was a handful of surprises when it came down to the 'what are we going to do today's his personality would always be comparable to knowing that the sun would shine the next day.
Predictable.
"Fucking seriously. I'm out." The statement cut through all the tension in the air, like a balloon popping to let out all the pressure inside, that the room was still silent after Gilbert had exited, this time minus banging the door.
Antonio's eyes were wide, but mostly worried and Francis dragged himself out of bed in all the languid grace he was known for, to wrap his arms comfortingly around the Spaniard.
"He'll come around, cheri. It'll take some time, but we've been friends for too long now."
Still, the Spaniard was quiet and motionless. It was beginning to worry Francis but thankfully, Antonio had tiled his head to look back at him. As fast as the relief had come, it was gone upon seeing the most heart-breaking face that had been presented to him in all his nineteen years alive.
"Perhaps, too long?" He knew Antonio was trying to hold back a choke. Kissing would help, for a brief moment, if not to appease the concerned brunet.
"Non, it'll be fine. A little faith in Gilbert doesn't hurt." Francis leaned forward, but to press their foreheads against each other lightly as he smiled. Antonio laughed and turned himself over fully to circle his arms around the Frenchman's neck.
"Remember that time in high school, when we snuck in the library late at night to return one of my overdue books and you told him to keep watch outside?"
The blond nodded and kissed him again but parted quickly to make him go on.
"…that didn't work out too well."
Sighing, Francis shook his head.
"Mainly because we took too long. You remember why?"
Eyes widening and lips forming an 'o' in understanding and slight shock from the memory coming at him all at once, he frowned a little.
"It's not a bad example. I still stand by what I said though, even if I'm usually the one condescending and demeaning our dear friend with the loving witticisms we have for each other all the time. It'll sink in and then he'll think about it."
Antonio felt a bud of faith starting to grow.
"I hope so."
Gilbert rested his head against the window and exhaled heavily, breath making a faint cloud on the surface. His red eyes observed the light pitter-patter of rain outside with a vacant expression, if not a melancholic one with a side serving of ennui. Today, he'd set out to have breakfast with his friends since his brother refused to pick-up the phone and his roommate was out. Plus, it was an easier trek. Ludwig was a whopping two buildings away and the other two were just a walk across the street.
"At least I thought so." He sulkily quipped, to the way he recounted all the events in his mind. His hunger only made itself known again once he'd entered the apartment and now he didn't know what to do.
The fridge was still empty –though that was partially his fault.
He was about to get off his ass and stop thinking about the matter he'd walked out of to see if his awesomeness was water-proof and would deflect any raindrops as he ran to the café a few more buildings away from the school.
Right when testing the theory out sounded possible in his head, the door opened revealing a very wet and disgruntled Matthew Williams, tugging off his soaked red beanie as he made his way to the kitchen.
"It started raining all of a sudden." He muttered with a tired exhale as he placed the wet paper bags on the island counter. For awhile, Gilbert felt a little guilty because it had only started to rain after the eventful morning affair with Francis and Antonio. The gods might've heard him or something but couldn't do much, as was the conclusion he came up with as walked in to sit on a stool and watch the Canadian.
Quietly.
Matthew gripped the first item his hand reached for, he tried not to tighten his grip when he noticed the sullen state of his roommate. The item was a stick of butter.
"Something wrong?" He inquired. Though he didn't want to pry, he was pretty sure something in the unwritten roommate code of honor stated he could ask.
"My best friends."
The Canadian's eyes widened a fraction. "Did something happen? Are they doing okay?"
Gilbert snickered at this, "they're not doing "doing okay" they're doing each other."
It took awhile for the news to sink in, but not in the way that Gilbert thought it would.
"That's…it's…at least you know now…? I mean, it's about time, I guess. Seven months is quite long isn't i---oh, you…you didn't know that, did you?"
The Prussian was too tired, too worn and too confused to care anymore. "I didn't know. And you know what? I don't want to know."
Matthew would've left it at that, but he was feeling a little adventurous today, or that could have been rainwater clogging his ears but hey, Francis was his cousin, perhaps this was in the roommate of cousin code of honor thing—screw it.
"W-why not?"
"…I…" It made Gilbert think for awhile.
It made him think so much that his brain hurt because there were lots of things that suddenly came into play.
"don't know that either but for it's weird. It's really weird and where the hell is what supposed go anyway?"
Matthew shrugged.
"Oh well, you just know it when the time comes, I think. Gay sex is like a jigsaw puzzle, you just have to know which piece goes where or…something like that."
Gilbert stares at him for awhile and the Canadian isn't sure if he likes such an intense gaze because it's starting to make him really uncomfortable and oh dear god.
Matthew. You. Are. Holding. A. Stick. Of. Butter.
He told himself mentally, easing his hold over it as the Prussian snapped out of trance.
"How is it, that you're embarrassed when I make jokes about you wanking off when you hog the bathroom and yet you can say that with a straight face? Tell me."
"It's…let's just say I'm Francis Bonnefoy's cousin and we'll leave it at that, eh?"
Gilbert shook his head and then focused his gaze on him critically, again.
"Wait. You're right. So that could mean you're probably gay too?"
The way the Prussian's eyes narrowed told the Canadian to say no, which he ended up not doing.
"Would that change things…?" He ventured, trying not to nervously clutch at the butter like a stress ball.
It was silent for a moment and then Gilbert barked out a laugh, banging on the table, tears at the edge of his eyes.
"'course not, Mattie. You just…uh…not bring the guy over here or like…if you really have make sure I'm not around and uhm, maybe you could like –whatever. I don't know. So are you?"
Matthew wasn't sure what to answer now, although he still felt a solid no would do the trick, but he didn't.
"I don't like anyone in particular, so it doesn't really matter."
Lies, Matthew, lies! Oh, but he knew that telling the truth to a slightly riled up Gilbert who didn't seem all too pleased with his friends and life in general at the moment, would not be good.
"We can play therapist all morning but—"
Somehow, he felt obligated to do something about it, even though Gilbert was unintentionally giving him a difficult time.
"Sounds kinky."
The bespectacled blond rolled his eyes, decidedly ignoring that in favor of breakfast. "I can hear your stomach from where I'm standing. Pancakes?"
He threw the butter at Gilbert to catch, who'd expertly taken it with ease.
Without giving much thought to his response Gilbert stood up and made his way to the now slightly drier bags of groceries. "That'll make me feel better, yeah."
Smiling at an unintended accomplishment, Matthew opened the fridge behind him to grab some eggs whilst he tried not to mull over the fact that his roommate, Gilbert Beillschmidt, who his cousin had guessed he liked for less polite ways but more for shirtless and in boxer shorts in the middle of the night, five months into living with him, could quite possibly be homophobic.
Sometimes, he hated how knowing Francis was but he had to admit it had his uses. Like that little push one needed to be certain of things, reassurance, as they so often called it.
Just as the thought hit him his cellphone rang and he was almost too over-joyed that the rain hadn't destroyed it to get annoyed with message from the aforementioned French cousin of his.
'Don't worry, cheri. He still isn't sure.'
He chanced a glance at Gilbert who was searching through the top cabinets. His shirt rode up, having to reach for the handles, when Matthew finally tore his eyes away, he only had the message on his phone to greet him and laugh at his sad little self.
Quickly, because Gilbert had turned back from his search for the mixing bowls, he texted back and stuffed the phone in his jeans to forget he ever did.
'I hope so.'
Note/s: ALSKJFLS. Husband I am so sorry I started something again =A= ...to whoever else, review. Hopefully I get a response to the 'Beta Reader Wanted' since I'm too lazy to sift through people here =w=