Europa
Sometimes Prussia wondered if bad luck ran in the family because it seemed like he nor his brother could ever catch a break… –Rusprus
"Europa, Europa
Find better days before us
In kindness, in spirit
Lead us to a greater calling
Lennigrad, Berlin wall
March on Rome, Byzantium's fall
Lightning war, Dresden nights
Drop the bomb, end this fight!
Never again!" – "Europa" by Globus
West was so pretty when he slept.
Though, he'd be shot dead on the spot if he had ever been caught saying that in front of the other. A straight bullet to a head with a freshly dug grave later and that would be the end of him.
But it was true about West being cute when he slept.
Even in the dim light of the moon, Gilbert could easily see Ludwig's face just perfectly. He reveled in the fact that this man was totally his brother and totally shared his gene pool. He also loved the fact that his brother was most definitely ohsocuteyes when he was asleep.
The German's normally stern face softened and the hard creases that had formed throughout the day had smoothed over. The uncomfortable look that normally adorned Ludwig's face had disappeared completely as golden locks of awesome that were normally smoothed and gelled back fell into closed eyes. Really, West needed to smile more often.
Even as the former nation laid there, head on the pillow and arm underneath it; staring at his brother with the utmost concentrated look on his face.
Sadly, Gilbert could count all the times Germany had smiled in his presence on one hand.
He didn't count the instances when he was a child because they didn't count considering Germany wasn't even Germany back then. He wasn't even the Holy Roman Empire – considering the fact that the Empire had split off into many different parts but he had that eerie feeling that West was what was left of the heart of the empire – and even though he had raised West, the kid had only smiled when he saw France, Spain or himself get hurt.
Gosh, West was one quiet, but creepy, freaking kid.
And unfortunately – cute. Dammit.
Dammit.
He reached out to brush the hair away from his brother's closed eyes and Ludwig grunted, automatically shifting away from his touch.
"…Arshloch."
Oh mean, there have been people begging for his touch all throughout the years because he was simply that fucking awesome. Well, that really had changed when he collapsed and now no one important remembers him…Still! He was Prussia. He was awesome. He was the reason all those weird screamo-emo gothic scene teens all had their clothing centered on the Iron cross.
Whichever moron decided that the Iron Cross was a symbol of Satanism and the devil's cross was going to burn in hell along with Austria's cat.
(That feline…That feline was just so evil and Austria did nothing.)
Only cool people knew that it was the symbol of the Teutonic knights. Duh.
(And God, he's had so many close calls with the Cross too… He wanted to cry – not that he would ever admit it – a damn river when Germany almost put the ban hammer on the Iron cross for being a symbol for the Nazi army…)
Still, still. The thought of the evil bastard fat purple cat of Doom and scream-emo kids had distracted him from his original rant. West, despite being asleep and shit and whatnot, should be happy that great Gilbert fucking holyshittakemenow Beilschmidt, aka the personification of Prussia was taking time out of his night to touch him.
If he could have his way, West would be touching him.
He drooled slightly.
The thought of West being underneath him sounded fairly pleasant. Hurr. Very pleasant.
Gilbert then sighed quietly as he sadly popped his dreams.
But, it would never happen.
West was too much of a prick to go to such lengths as incest.
Yep. Ludwig was too much a prick for incest. He thought it was icky and wrong and immoral and far too many other words that Gilbert hadn't bothered remember because Germany had already successfully murdered his raging boner. Though, strangely, the only other thing he remembered other than that was saying that the days of the Hitler were over and Homosexuals and Jews were their friends.
Really, West needed to loosen up and get his sorry ass laid. Incestuous sex or not. Still, what has problem with it? West knew that Austria and him had gone at it a few times before back in their empire days and everyone knew what the Italy bros did their weird shit together behind closed doors and everyone and their mothers knew that America and his oh-so adorable twin brother were totally banging and not to forget the Asians–
Sighing quietly, he rolled over–
–and promptly screamed.
A hand covered his mouth and he slapped it away, scooching away from the unwanted visitor in his bed. Well, Germany's bed. But still. Beside him, Germany shifted but showed no sign of waking up.
"Pryvet good friend."
Gilbert's only thought at this moment was hide ya wife, hide yo kids, hide ya wife, hide yo kids...
"Russia..." He eventually ground out. "What are you doing here."
"Cannot I visit old friends?"
"Nien. Germany ain't your friend and hasn't been your friend since World War II und I hate your guts."
Russia's face showed hurt. "That's mean. Especially since I took so much effort to come out and visit you?"
"Really? Don't care." A thought then struck Gilbert. "...How the hell did you get inside." It was well-known Germany had practically nation-proofed his house.
He faintly looked over at Russia. The Slavic nation was on his side with the blanket pulled up to his chest and his knees pulled up slightly. Both hands were pressed together and were resting near the Russian's head. And, in all honestly, in the light of the moon that was gently cast over both, Russia looked genuinely innocent for once.
They both knew that was a huge lie though.
"Hmm. It was easy." Russia answered. "Da...Quite easy..."
"You best have left West's dogs alone."
"Dogs?"
"Yeah. Three of them. Considering the fact that you still have your stupid face, you must have not met them. That, or you killed them."
Russia made a face with his aforementioned not torn off face. "What is with you and Amerika associating me with being a ruthless killer?"
Gilbert cast a look at him. "Bloody Sunday, World War 1 and 2, Russo-Japanese war, and the entire Russian history disagree with your theory."
Russia only smiled.
"So...Could you go?"
"Nyet."
"Why nooot."
"Ehhhhh..."
"That isn't an answer."
Was it just him or did Russia get closer? Seriously, why was this guy so freaking creepy. Like absolute, Japan horror movie creepy with a retarded mix of not-awesome rape-truck syndrome. Really. Appearing randomly in his brother's bed with that creepy smile of his had to mean something. It was fucking weird. How the hell did that bastard even get –inside –
Frowning, Prussia rolled over; deftly ignoring Russia like the awesome person he was. Long ago, he may have been taught to never show Russia or anyone else his back ever. But Russia was in his house. He'd be one stupid motherfucker if he tried anything.
Alright, it really was Germany's house but he lived there too with prissy-pants Austria and Germany and Germany's freakishly large dogs. So freaking Russia either had balls or was one hell of a Ninja.
Probably some retarded combo of both.
"Awww..."
"Shut-up, Russia..."
Russia scooted closer. He definitely did that time because he could feel Russia's cold, un-gloved fingers dance up his spine like a thin spider. He felt unprotected in this slightly. Quite unprotected, but Russia couldn't, wouldn't do anything.
"What are you doing here?"
"Can't I ever pop in for a visit?"
"Nien."
"So mean..."
"Your mom's mean."
"...I do not have a mother."
"Dude, dude. Killed the joke totally asshole."
"Wait, what joke?"
"Are you like, culturally retarded or something?"
"I prefer the term 'culturally deformed' thank-you."
Prussia rolled his eyes and snorted. "Why are you even in my totally awesome presence if you cannot even comprehend the simplest of 'your mom' jokes?"
"Because you do not have the balls to kick me out of your brother's bed in fear of waking the said aforementioned brother." Russia answered easily before pausing and adding happily, "besides! Your bed is very warm. It will take an army and half to get me to leave it, yes?"
"Ugh. You and your obsession with heat. Well, but I guess it's kinda suspected of you I guess – being the huge ass freezing icicle country you are. Ever heard of investing in a space heater though buddy?"
"Mmmm. Its use would become null when summer comes round, so buying it is virtually pointless."
The ex-nation grimaced; remembering the blazing summers the Slavic suffered through. The summers may have not lasted long in Russia, but when they came around – it was known that they were around. He absolutely hated the summers and the winters. And the Springs and Autumns had been nonexistent so practically his time in Russia had sucked.
"You still haven't given me a reason for why you're freaking here though you sadistic bastard."
The Russian grimanced. "I am not a sadistic bastard."
"Yes you are."
"No, I am not."
"Yes, you are."
"No, I am not.
"Yes, you are!"
"No I'm not!"
"Yes, you are!"
"This fight is blatantly stupid!"
"Your mom's blatantly stupid!"
"Do you even know what blatantly means?"
"Well, obviously it is a word that is made to make me seem smarter!"
"If that is so, it completely failed in its job."
Prussia gasped quietly and rolled over to face Russia. "Did you just imply that I was dumb?"
Now that Prussia could actually see Russia's face, the Arctic nation flashed a bone-chilling smile that oozed calmness. "Of course not, good comrade! As a changed nation that has devoted itself towards the wonderfulness of democracy, I can say truthfully that I did not imply that."
"...Liar. You so did!"
"Mmm! I did not!"
"Did too!"
"Did not!"
"Did too!"
"Did not!"
"Did–"
The once nation's reply was cut off by Germany's loud snore and prompt rolling over. Gilbert shot a caring look towards his brother before looking over at the Russian and glaring. He snorted quietly and rolled back onto his side. "Whatever, I'm too cool for you anyhow."
"Is this so?" Russia questioned with a hum and moved closer to the other not-so-secretly.
"Ja. Totally so."
Gloved fingers danced up and down the German's back, drawing invisible lines that blended into patterns as Russia mulled over Gilbert's thoughts. A minute had passed before Ivan spoke, his mouth mouthing the words before actually speaking them.
"If you say...You assume that you are cooler than me yes...? If you are so cool...Then why I am still a country and you are nonexistent?"
Gilbert drew in a harsh breath before answering in a low voice. "That was a low blow."
"But quite true, is it not?"
The ex-nation huffed. "I refuse to give you an answer, heathen!" Prussia turned slightly to push the other away. Russia only giggled and grabbed Prussia's wrist and Ivan drew his own free arm over the German's wait and nestled his head into the crook his neck.
"What the hell are you doing!" Prussia attempted to push the other away, but his enemy held on fast and with every push and tug Gilbert realised that it got harder to breath.
"Mmmm, hugging is a symbol of friendship yes?"
"Yeah, but we aren't friends."
Russia's strangely hot breath was right next to his ear, moving the strands of hair there with each intake of breath. Prussia stiffened as Russia giggled quietly. All right, sure, Russia was nothing to really be afraid of but it is the fact he's a grown man and giggles that makes it so damn scary.
"Who says we can't be~?"
"Three people."
"And they are?"
"Your mom."
"No, seriously."
"Well," Prussia answered with a tone that oozed sarcasm and awesome, "it is so easy obviously! It's my favourite three people in the world – sans West and Ita. Me, myself and I!"
"You do not count, so your argument has been considered annulled. Please try again."
"Your face is annulled."
"Again, there you go sprouting more useless nonsense~"
"Mehmehmeh. Whatever, I'm going to sleep."
"Aww. So soon?"
"Dude, it's freaking four in the morning."
"So."
"S-So…?" Prussia groaned and dropped his head on the pillow. "Shit son, I know you live in the future over there in Snow Land, but gtfo. I'm going to sleep! Where hopefully the sandman sprinkles dust and not crack and you'll be gone in the morning!"
Russia's arms around Gilbert drew together, constricting the other's breath once more. "B-But I wanted to celebrate our new friendship!"
"What friendship!"
"The one we just created, pet. Tell me that you surely do not have the memory of a gold fish."
"A snort split the air. "Please bitch. I have the memory of a goddamn elephant."
"Is this so."
"Ja."
"Oh?" The tone was curious and questioning. "Then surely you must remember your reaction hearing that the Allies announcing the dissolution of your state?"
Prussia's breath hitched and he growled, his crimson eyes narrowing into tiny slits. "I said to never speak of that incident." It was taboo for everyone. It was the forbidden subject of the nations. Even Spain and France were not to speak of it.
Prussia's breath hitched and he growled, his crimson eyes narrowing into tiny slits. Harp nails du into the skin of Russia's gloved hands. "I said to never speak of that incident."
"But it was such a wonderful thing to witness, yes? I had never seen you so angry, depressed and raging before! It was even better than watching you mourn over the lost of your beloved Frederich! Both a...ah what is the term – A Kodak moment da?"
A snarl escaped Prussia's lips. "Never mention him."
"Aww, are you still tender? He died nearly two centuries ago you know."
"And Anatasia died ninety something years ago – your point?"
Russia's fingers had become un-gloved at one point and freakishly sharp nails dug into the tender flesh of Prussia's hips. The German hissed at the sharp sudden feeling of the nails digging into his skin.
"Dick."
His only answer was a short giggle and Russia's nails broke the skin and drew inwards.
"F-Fuck...!"
"Is that an offer~?"
"Nien!"
"Awww…"
"I-If you came here to get laid, go find one of your people." The German mumbled. "I'm sure there's hundreds of them over at America's pla – Fucking...!"
"Do not speak of them."
Attempting to wiggle his arms out of Russia's hold, Gilbert growled loudly. "What I say?"
The nails dug deeper and Prussia could feel warm blood start to drip from the indents. "And if you get any blood on West's bed, I will punt–"
"They are traitors."
" – That Stalin will feel it!–Wait, what?" The others words had been uttered so softly that Gilbert hadn't almost heard them. Now fingers smeared with blood had begun to play with the waistband of his awesomely yellow pyjama pants while Russia's mulled over his words once again.
"They are traitors..." He eventually answered. "They are traitors for leaving the Motherland."
Ah. The Motherland. As Germany was the Fatherland, Russia was the Motherland. Mother Russia. Le Russe. El Russe. Russia. Soviet union. Russian Empire. Land of Ice and Snow. Commie Land.
"Does that make me a traitor too?" Prussia smirked.
"Da."
"Sweeeet."
"Why is that 'sweet'?"
"Because," The other retorted easily with the shit-eating grin, "It gives me reason to piss you off like a boss!"
There was a tense moment in which Russia laughed and purred. Gilbert shuttered at the sound of the man giggling madly like he did. It was the full belly laugh, not the small girlish giggles from before that made grown men shiver. This was the laugh of a mad man that made full armies retreat. It sounded like the cry of a sawn off trumpet that was attempting to play its last notes with bated breath.
"Oh Gil. Silly, silly little Gil! You never learn!"
"Was?"
"After all, nobody wants a child that misbehaves~"
"Fuuuuuuuu–"
The long drawn out swear was cut short by one of Russia's hand quickly moving upwards and slapping over his mouth and one travelling more down south. The hand slipped beneath the fabric of his trousers and he swore loudly into Russia's hand.
While rumours of Russia being a monstrous rape-truck were as far from real as humanely impossible, tales of unwanted sexual contact from him split the air every once in a while. It wasn't like Russia was a bad person or something. He wasn't a rapist, he was too odd to be. While there were always severe warnings for his ability to creep people out, he was as harmless as a damn fly when it came to certain amounts of sexual harassment.
Ivan was like a child. He craved attention. And when he craved attention, he sought out everyday possible to quell the feeling until it was gone and then all would be normal. It was his way. Sometimes he went farther than necessary and it sometimes ended violently, but really.
It was something that was easily gotten used to.
"I'm going to remove my hand now..." Said Russia quietly. "Try not to wake up your brother, yes?"
"I'm not stupid." Gilbert replied, answering the spoken question and the one that had been plaguing both their minds.
"Oh, you aren't?"
He snorted. "I'm fucking awesome. Of course I'm not."
A short hum left Russia before he answered. "Oh I see."
"Glorious."
Russia managed to move closer that time and he lightly nipped Prussia's ear. "If you know the reason I am here for, then why not help...?"
"Because what fun would that be!"
"Ah, but it only makes so much difficult yes?"
"Being difficult is a lot more fun. Besides you dick, why'd you come here? What's his face...Um Tolys? No fuck, Toris. Yeah, Lithuania. He's your goddamn neighbour, why not go to him?"
"He was with Poland."
In his sleep, Germany grunted and rolled over, mumbling something about stupid leaders.
"Hmm...shaking boy, the alcoholic...what was his name..." He always had had such a poor time remembering the names of all the Baltic's.
"Latvia?"
"Ja."
"He was with Arthur's little...thing." Ah, Sealand. The boy who wanted to be a nation but physically could not accomplish such a task. Hmm, it was no mistaking that he was related to England though. They were both extremely stubborn and those thick eyebrows ran in the family.
Poor lad, to be cursed with such an androgynous look and thick eyebrows...
"Estonia?"
"Had something to go do with America...Um, Trolling...?"
"Pffft." Prussia had to laugh at that one. Of course Estonia and America would go do that. Those two were especially made for such an art as trolling. He was less than surprised really, seeing as they both seemed like the type of people who dwelled in basements when no one was looking. America probably even had a trolling hat.
Like a child, the Russian then rested his head on the Prussian's shoulder as his other hand that had been attached to the arm that had snuck underneath Prussia's body moved southwards to join the other hand.
Gilbert shifted and attempted to pull away, but obviously Ivan refused to have any of that. He nipped down on Gilbert's ear and pulled him backwards, twining his legs into the Prussian's and managing to practically trap him in his hold successfully.
Fuck.
"Ivan–" Gilbert's words died painfully in his throat when those finally made official contact. He arched unwillingly into the touch, knowing full well that his own body was going to betray him completely at this point.
"Ah, little you agrees with me now doesn't it?" Ivan's voice was like a sweet poison. It sent shivers down to only his lower half but also made him fear for what was going to happen. Not like he was scared or anything, seeing as he was freaking awesome. Russia normally wasn't so forward with his approaches like this. Gilbert was just probably overreacting.
It had been a very long time since he got some ass.
A very long time.
Ivan stroked him lightly, not saying anything and not bothering to peer over Prussia's shoulder with those frightening light mauve-coloured eyes as if he could see what he was doing with the German's lower half. It was interesting. Russia's hands moved quickly, one hand choosing to rub his thigh while the other stroked up and down placidly and ran the thumb over the slit carefully.
He could feel the other's head move downwards to rest on his back shoulder-blade.
Really, he could never figure Russia out. The man was so strange. Cruel, nice, odd, strange, adorable, mean, destructive. He was all these adjective and whole bunch more that he could not care to name.
Sometimes it was like Russia was a child trapped in an adult's body.
Suddenly, Russia moved again and lifted his head slightly bite down on Prussia's shoulder. The German yelped and arched, trying to move away from his touch. He was almost free when a loud groan broke the air.
...Fuck.
Germany sat up slightly, looking much too tired to be properly awake. Perhaps this would work to his advantage. Luckily, Russia's hands had stopped what they were doing so Prussia slid out of his grasp and stared at Germany.
The country rubbed his eyes. "East...What the hell–"
"Go back to sleep West."
"But–"
"Sleep."
"East,"
"Sleep."
"Gilbert–"
Gilbert pushed Germany down and kissed his forehead. "Sleep."
"Okay..." That seemed to settle the country down. Really, that could have gone a lot worse. Extremely bad that could have ended...
He smiled slightly. Somehow, Germany was always Germany in the end. Even if he was not as cute looking when he was older, he was still his baby brother...
Prussia's rather brotherly thoughts were turned off by the sudden feeling of arms wrapping around his waist again. The Russian only giggled.
"The night is far from over..."
...Fuck.
AN:
Oh yeah bitches. I'm back from the dead and I've got my trolling hat on. LET'S DO THIS.
Never wrote RuPru before. It ended up strangely.
And someday, I will come back to this and edit it... For now..? /FOREVERALONE.
