Author's notes:
Okay, as Neko-chan waits patiently for our beta to get back to us with the corrected third chapter of The hero and the Servant, I thought I'd write a one shot. (I don't blame darandomninja. Chapter three is long and I'm not sure if I explained everything in the best way. ^^;)
Although, I must warn you, Prussia has a bit of a bad mouth in this (Neko: A bit?) but then again, it wouldn't be Prussia if he didn't have his lovely pirate mouth. XD
Oh, and for those of you who don't know, the Tomatina de Buñol is a Spanish tomato war held in the last Wednesday of August. You have one hour to throw a ripe tomato at anyone you want as long as you squish it in your hand first. I haven't been there, but I've heard it is lots of fun! (Thank Neko for the info! :D)
And that's where this little story came from. Hope you enjoy and I didn't just waste ten minutes of your life. XD
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"And that's when I said "Go fuck yourself. I'm too awesome to care about whether your damn music box meant anything to you." Prussia proclaimed swinging the mug full of Pilsner beer above his head. Its contents drenched Germany's left arm, making him wipe away the bubbles the liquid left behind. He ran a hand through his hair, almost wishing he didn't go out drinking with his brother tonight. Prussia was rowdy as usual, but it didn't help the headache Germany was succumbing to. And what was worse than his brother's annoying voice and insensitivity to his growing headache? Italy decided to tag along.
"Ve, what happened next, Prussia?" the younger Italians asked. Italy drunk up Prussia's story like a camel, too engrossed with the details of the story to realize Prussia was blowing the story out of proportion. His amber eyes were wide as his frail body barely clung to the edge of the stool he was sitting on.
"Well, you know Hungary. She's way to proud to admit that I'm ten times better than she is, and pulled out her fucking frying pan." Prussia brushed the side of his skull, wincing as he touched the tender area above his left eye. "But that pansy could never hit hard enough to hurt the awesome me!"
Germany took a sip of the abandoned bock beer in front of him. Maybe if he got drunk, his headache would go away. He could deal with the aftermath when his brother wasn't bellowing in his ear.
"Wow, Prussia, Hungary sure does chase you around a lot," Italy mused sipping his apple martini. "Don't you think she's getting tired of it?"
"Nah, she's head over heels for me. She just doesn't know it yet. But it's so obvious."
"Did you hear that, Doitsu?" Germany flinched at the nickname. Italy was spending way too much time with Japan. "Prussia has a girlfriend."
"Yeah, I always was a chick magnet," Prussia laughed and pointed to himself. He looked down at Germany, who he just noticed was slumped on the bar's countertop, and gave him a playful shove. "Oi, West, what's up with you? Have too much to drink?"
"Not if I can still hear your voice," Germany grumbled and massaged his temples.
Prussia slapped Germany hard on the back and roared, "Aww, c'mon, stop being fuckin' Austria. Liven up for once in your life."
Italy choked on his martini, only hearing "stop", "fucking", and "Austria" in Prussia's sentence. It took a few seconds for him to regain the full air capacity of his lungs, but he eventually got the chance and cleared his throat. "Doitsu, why didn't you tell me you sleeping with Austria?"
Germany's eyes widened and he snapped his head around to meet Italy's eyes. Prussia burst out laughing and tipped backwards on his stool a little too far, tumbling over into the stone floor. The bar quieted down for a few seconds to see where all the commotion was coming from, but the clamor picked up only seconds after it died down. Germany banged his head down on the bar countertop, which didn't do much good for his throbbing headache. Why didn't he just stay at home and watch TV in the company of his dogs?
"I'm not sleeping with Austria, Italy." The countertop smothered his voice into a soft murmur.
"But Prussia said-"
"You heard him wrong." Germany's cold eyes stabbed into Italy's innocent orbs. Italy backed down, feeling the anger behind Germany's stare, and focused on the rim of his martini glass to avoid the German's harsh gaze.
"I'm sorry." Italy's voice cracked as he tried to hold back the tears threatening to spill over his eyes. "I didn't mean to insult you. Honest."
Germany sighed and sat up straight. No matter how hard he tried, he could never stay mad at the younger Italian. "No, it's not your fault." He looked down at Prussia, recovering from his laughing fit on the floor.
Prussia stood up and placed the stool he was sitting on in a straight position again. He returned to his former sitting position, a light snicker escaping his lips, and looked over at his brother. Resting his chin in his palm, Prussia clicked his tongue in disappointment. "Damn, West, I never imagined you to be gay for Austria. Maybe Italy, but-"
"No!" Germany's cheeks flushed and he focused on his beer mug. "I'm not gay…"
"You sure?"
"Yes."
"Don't worry, not everyone can have a chick following them wherever they go like the awesome me."
Germany had enough of this torment. He stood up from his chair at the bar, grabbed his jacket next to him and put the gray fedora on his head.
"Ve, Doitsu, where are you going?"
"Home. I haven't walked my dogs since this morning, and I'm sure they're restless from lack of exercise." He draped the jacket over his broad shoulders and straightened the wrinkles out. "See you tomorrow, Italy, Prussia."
"All right, but you're going to miss out on all the fun!" Prussia chirped and scooted closer to Italy. Germany's eye twitched and he brushed Prussia's sudden movement toward Italy of as just a way for no one to sit between the two. He turned on his heels and walk away, disappearing into the dark night.
"Ve, Germany seemed kind of upset," Italy muttered and watched Germany leave.
"Ah, he's probably in one of his moods," Prussia took another gulp of his beer. "He gets like that every once and a while. I think he's jealous."
"Jealous of what?"
"The awesomeness I possess and he doesn't. Let's face it. West has always wanted a chick to follow him around; I can see it in his eyes."
"Why would Germany want a chick to follow him? He never seemed the type a girl would want to follow."
Prussia stared at Italy for a few moments. "Are you serious?"
"Yeah. I guess-"
"I knew that's why he was always so miserable!" Prussia pounded his fist on the table in triumph, making Italy leap a few inches off his seat in shock. "He's so fucking lonely he'll hang out with anyone that acts like a chick."
Italy played with the edges of his martini glass, not catching the stab Prussia made towards his feminine nature. "So, you think if Germany had a chick follow him around, he'd be happy?"
"Think? I know for a fact, Italy. Now, to find a chick interested in my brother is going to be hard. I mean, if I tried to convince her, she'd be too obsessed with me to even pay attention to West."
"Oh! I can find one!" Italy's hand shot up in the air and waved around as if he were a kindergarten kid ready to answer the next question. "I know exactly where to find one."
Prussia blinked in surprise. "Italy, dressing yourself up as a chick doesn't count."
"No, I mean I know a real chick for Germany."
"Well, Italy, if you think you can do it, be my guest. I'd love to see what you come up with."
"Ve, you can count on me!" Italy bounded out of the bar, forgetting his jacket on the table.
---
Germany sprawled out on his couch with a half gallon of ice cream resting on his lap. His german shepherd, Hans, rested at the base of the leather couch, ordering the ice cream to jump off his master's spoon and onto the floor. The grandfather clock kept the beat to each passing second anxiously awaiting the song it would break into once the hands reached midnight.
Germany sighed and flipped through the channels on his television. At least the ice cream was helping his headache go away. He eventually settled on a German soap opera he'd never admit he liked, and shoved a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. Hans' eyes bore a hole into the bottom of Germany's spoon, praying his deep concentration would get an award of the chocolaty kind.
Just as the clock began to chime, a series of knocks came from Germany's front door. Germany looked over at the door, his spoon titling to the left. The frozen chocolate treat slid off the spoon and onto the floor, which Hans licked up before his master could reclaim it.
"I'm sleeping, go away," Germany called out and shooed his dog away from the ice cream melting on the floor.
"Are you sleep-talking again?" a familiar voice chirped. Germany groaned and walked into the kitchen to grab something to clean the soiled carpet.
"What do you want this late, Italy? Don't you know what time it is?"
"I know it's late, but I have a present for you!" Italy chirped and invited himself inside Germany's house. Germany was about to protest, but figured it was too late to argue with the brunette and let him stay. Italy had the widest grin on his face Germany had ever saw. His eyes followed the younger male's arms down to where the Italian's hands disappeared behind his back.
"A present? For me?" Germany felt a smile tugging at his lips, but he brushed it away. "Couldn't you wait to give it to me in the morning?"
"No, I want you to be happy now." Italy's eyes seemed to sparkle with pure delight. He walked closer to Germany and continued, "I was talking to Prussia, and he said if you had a chick follow you around, you'd be-"
"Italy, please don't take any advice from my brother."
"No, no! I know this will make Germany happy! Prussia has one all the time, and I know he loves his chick." Italy pulled his hands out from behind his back. "Here, ya go!"
Germany didn't know whether to fall over or burst out laughing. Nestled between Italy's hands was a baby chick. It opened its vacant eyes and fluffed the fuzz around its wings, staring up at Germany.
"Italy, that's a chicken."
"No it's not, Germany. It's a chick."
"When my brother said "chick" he didn't mean that kind of chick."
Italy's hands drooped. He looked down at the little bird chirping every once and a while to break the silence and released his face from his excited grin. "But… but… I thought… oh, I'm sorry, Germany. I tried, I really did. I just didn't want you to be lonely anymore. It makes me really sad when you're not happy."
Germany groaned and put his hand on Italy's shoulder. "Italy, thank you for the chick. He'd make a good pet." He picked the chick out of Italy's hands, which didn't put up much struggle, and placed it on his shoulder. The little bird chirped and nestled a small area in Germany's jacket to rest.
Italy sprung off the floor and wrapped his arms around Germany. "You're welcome, Doitsu! I'm sure you'll love him and he'll make you really happy."
Germany relaxed his tense arms, and allowed the brunette to hug him for a while. After ten seconds, he cleared his throat and pushed Italy off of him, staring at the clock. "It's late, and if you don't get home soon, you're brother's gonna throw a fit. Germany lowered his voice. "And most likely come after me."
"Ve, don't worry about it. Romano's over at Spain's house tonight. They're having some sort of festival tomorrow… the Tomatina de Buñol or something. So, I was wondering, could I stay over at your house for the night? It's late and scary outside, and I don't want to be in my house all alone!"
Germany's cheeks flushed and he rubbed his hands between themselves. Italy hadn't slept with him since the end of the world war. And back then, he didn't mind it as much as he did now. Because quite frankly, the thought of Italy in his bed made him a bit uncomfortable. He was about to say he'd walk the young Italian home when he looked into Italy's pleading eyes. 'That's cheating!' Germany thought bitterly to himself. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess you could stay for-"
"Oh thank you, Doitsu!" Italy pounced on Germany again, this time taking the taller man by surprise and making him stagger rearward a bit. "We'll have so much fun! We could play a board game or watch movies until midnight or play with your doggies or-"
Germany put a finger over Italy's lips. "If you don't mind, Italy, I'm going to bed. I've had a rough day, and all I want now is to get some sleep. You can stay up if you want, but don't wake me when you come to bed."
Italy suddenly became drowsy and he stretched, releasing his hold on Germany. "Okay, we can go to sleep." Germany turned to walk up his stairway and stopped suddenly. Italy, who was following close behind Germany, didn't notice him stop and ran right into his back. "Ve, what's wrong, Doitsu?"
"Where in the world am I going to put this chick for the night?"
"He can sleep right between us." Italy mused and picked the chick off Germany's shoulders. "I'm sure he doesn't want to be lonely either."
The thought of a chicken in his bed made Germany growl under his breath. God forbid the little bird should crap in his bed. But he gave in to Italy's suggestion, thinking that Hans would make a quick midnight snack of the little bird, especially if it pecked him or rubbed the big dog the wrong way. The dog was right on Italy's heels, following the two up the stairs and laying down on a small blanket laid down on the floor just for him. Italy was the first to climb into the bed, Germany following soon after him. He rolled over to the right so his back was facing Italy and took in a deep breath.
"Gute nacht, Italy."
Italy let out a yawn and giggled. "Buona notte, Doitsu."
---
"Germania! Germania! È terribile! Manca!"
Germany stirred as Italy's shrill voice muttering something in rapid Italian pierced his dream. He groggily sat up and fluttered his eyes open. A teary-eyed Italy was looking under the pillows of the bed.
"What's wrong, Italy?"
"I can't find your chick anywhere! It's gone."
"Gone? What do you mean he's gone?"
"I'm sorry, Germany! He must've got away from us while we were sleeping."
Germany pinched the bridge of his nose. He figured this little chick would be more trouble than it was worth. "Don't worry, it couldn't have gone far. I'll check downstairs."
"What if he's stuck in a pipe somewhere? What if he got outside and is lost by himself? What if something big came by and ate him?"
"Italy."
"What if the poor guy is being chased by the boogie man? What if he got birdnapped?"
"Italy, I-"
"What if-"
"Italy!" He was stopped by Germany's strong arms embracing him into a light hug. Italy stopped sobbing for a moment and the room fell silent. "I'm sure the chick is fine. He's just out for a walk around the house. We'll find him."
"Ve, are you sure?"
"Positive." Germany released his hold on Italy and stared into his chocolate eyes. "Now, I'll look downstairs and you continue to look upstairs."
"Okay, Doitsu, you can count on me!" Italy saluted and went back to ripping Germany's bed apart. Germany sighed and pushed his feet over the side of the bed, the cold hardwood floor sending shocks through his legs. He walked through the hallway and down the stairs, still half asleep. The first place he checked was between his two leather sofa cushions, but found nothing but some loose change and a lot of dust bunnies. 'Note to self, get out a broom later and sweep that up!' His eyes then shifted over to the nightstand, where he thought he saw something yellow, but it was only a pair of abandoned mittens. He looked behind the sofa, under the television, in the pockets of every coat on the coat rack, but still had no success. From there, he decided to walk into the kitchen. No sooner was he through the door when he heard the chick's high-pitched chirp from inside. He ran inside to look down and sigh in relief.
Lying on the floor was his German shepherd, Hans, with the baby chick nestled between his paws. He looked up at Germany and then sniffed the chick, licking the fuzz on the chick's head. Germany sighed and called up to Italy, "I found him."
There was a crash upstairs, and Italy's excited voice accompanied a rush of rapid footsteps. Germany prayed the young Italian hadn't broken anything of value. Italy scooped the chick up from between Hans' gentle paws and cried out, "Oh, we found you! I'm so happy you're safe." He cuddled his cheek into the chick's fluff and looked up at Germany. "Hans was keeping him safe for us, wasn't he?"
Germany smiled and stroked the head of his loyal pet. "Yes, he is a good dog." Hans wagged his tail back and forth hearing the words "good dog" mentioned.
"Guess who's awesome?" a voice called out, following a door being slammed into the wall adjacent to it. Germany grumbled to himself and walked into the living room, looking into the crimson eyes of his brother.
"What are you doing here so early?" Germany asked crossing his arms.
"Does the awesome me need a reason to come visit you?" Prussia smirked and trudged through the house to meet his brother's shoulder height. "Besides, I heard Italy was staying over at your house tonight."
"How-"
"He told me yesterday." Germany looked behind him to see Italy walking in with the baby chick in his hands.
"Ve, Prussia, good morning." The baby chick chirped and struggled out of Italy's hands. It hopped over to Prussia and nestled against his polished boot. Prussia looked down at the tiny animal and back to Italy.
"What's up with the chick?"
"You said Germany would be happy if he had a chick, so I got him one," Italy proclaimed happily. Prussia stifled his laugh with a gloved hand and looked over at Germany, who was turning a lovely shade of red. He walked over to the couch, the baby chick still following him at the heels, and collapsed onto its cushions. The chick took this as a chance to bond with the albino and hopped onto the couch, up to his shoulder and onto his head. Prussia watched the ball of fuzz with curiosity and pulled it off his head.
"Hey, I'm not your nest." The little chick chirped and hopped back onto his head. "Hey! Get off of me!"
"Aww, he likes you. I think he looks kind of cute sitting on your head," Italy mused.
Prussia paused and let the chick stay on top of his head. "Well, I did say I was a chick magnet."
---
Hope you enjoyed the story and I didn't waste anyone's time. I can't wait to watch the Canada VS USA hockey match for the gold today. Neko keeps bragging about how the Canadians are gonna wipe the floor with us (the little traitor), but I'm still betting we win the gold. All in all, it should be a pretty good game. :D
Anyways, tell me what you think of my little spur of the moment story and what I could improve on. That would be really helpful.
