Name: Thinking Too Hard

Rating: M 16 + (For Lime)

Pairing: Edelweiss/SwissAus

Length: 1,847 words

Summary: You should really be sleeping at two in the morning, but Vash can't stop thinking about the man in his bed.

AN: I don't own Hetalia and make no pretenses that I do. Also, I don't know if this turned out well, I feel like I'm writing differently than I usually do. Anyway, this is just a random short one-shot. I'm going to continue my other SwissAus story this month so look out for that. Also, this story is based off a picture I saw on tumblr. I'll link it on my page if anyone wants to see it.

Thinking Too Hard

Vash tightened his grip on the rifle resting on his windowsill. He had awoken for something, damn it, and he could hear someone outside, running and yelling. His fingers flexed in irritation, nails making a soft tapping against its metal. He hated people on his property, disliked them bothering him, and was pretty sure they might have woken up Liechtenstein as well as him. A quick look at the digital clock on his dresser (a gift) told him that it wasn't even three in the morning. A neighbor's dog barked, causing joining the noise produced by the idiots outside. Vash frowned in distaste. Night was supposed to be quieter.

It took one quick shot of his rifle into air and the intruder was gone. But the person in bed with him had awoken and was currently making a mess of his sheets.

"Does my presence frustrate you so much that you have to fire into the night?" asked Austria, peering at him his bangs. Vash snorted.

"I wouldn't waste a bullet on you."

Roderich rolled his bare shoulders back and gave him a serene glance, one that was barely ever shown in public. It was strange; with all the distance between them they could still be comfortable with each other, somehow. Vash just smoothed his own face over in frustration and set his rifle back where he had found it. Roderich gazed at him with expectation, patting the spot where Vash had been mere minutes before.

"Come back to bed please, it's not even dawn yet."

Vash sighed and slid under covers, briefly touching Austria's naked thighs. The other man gazed at him from across the bed and tried to lean in for a kiss. Vash gave him a brief one and then turned to stare up at the ceiling. He could feel Roderich a little disappointed in this, but good, he never ever liked giving him what he wanted and he would never do as Roderich wanted.

Vash hadn't bowed to Roderich's wishes eight hundred years ago and he wouldn't start now.

Roderich closed his eyes and tried to steady his breath back into sleep but Vash lay awake. The cool night air couldn't lull him back to sleep. He could hear the Austrian's heartbeat and if he focused he could hear his own plus every little breathe they both took. It just sent his mind into very quick thoughts, rapidly firing off one after the other. It he was very aware of the other's presence like this. Perhaps Roderich was just aware of this as Vash was, but this close to each other they could feel things. Things like national spirit that sometimes thrummed through their bodies. Roderich's essence felt familiar, being a neighboring soul.

This arrangement they had now was not a rare thing. It had started in the 50s with Roderich trying to visit Erika often. Eventually they started talking again. It was just passive-aggressive remarks at first, then angry glances at each other, and finally one of them kissed the other. He wasn't sure who. Vash didn't want to know either.

What was done was done. And in the morning Roderich would stay for breakfast, telling Erika that breakfast in Switzerland was nothing like back at his house, where he kept his entire silver spoon collection untarnished (and up his ass like Vash thought), and his breakfasts grand, and his coffee amazing. Vash would then snort and say that he had to clean the guest room again, since he disliked Roderich staying there at all, as if Roderich wasn't sleeping in his bed. Truthfully the guest room hadn't been disturbed by Roderich in years.

It was a stupid pretense to keep up. That they didn't sleep together and then go on as if nothing happened. That Roderich would show up with some sort of cake and gift for Erika and spend time playing the piano. His playing would fill both Erika and Vash up with cheer, though Vash would just remark that he might as well use his hands for that if he couldn't even fight.

Vash would set the table, and despite his frugality, which Roderich shared, he would damn well serve food that he rarely served at all. He'd look at Roderich as if to say "How dare you say I have it worse than you?" even though Roderich hasn't said that to him in a century. Roderich would note the expensive meat and cheese and shake his head. After the cake and coffee, Roderich would check his watch, announcing the time. Erika would look at her adopted brother.

"Isn't it a little too late for him to head to the train station?"

Roderich would blush, saying he could take care of himself, like always. They never wasted time on refuting this because it was still a wonder to most of the nations how Austria managed to find his way home. So Vash would grumble about the guestroom again, which was clean now, since the last time Roderich had slept there.

"Oh, bruder, I'll change the sheets."

"Danke Schön, Lichtenstein."

"Fine then, he may stay the duration of the night and catch the morning train home." Vash needed to make sure that Erika and Roderich knew that the latter wasn't needed there, or even wanted there. Definitely not wanted.

This would pass for another few minutes before they all retired for the night. Roderich never used the guest room. After showering, he'd come in to Vash's room, hair damp and pajamas clinging a little to his slightly wet skin. Vash would sit up in bed and nod, and soon whatever game they had been playing earlier would fall apart. Outside the room, all Roderich and Vash knew were remarks under their breath and denial. In his bed, there were no lies to be said. Nothing dishonest would happen between them and under the sheets.

Roderich's fingers started running through the flaxen hair of Vash and Vash's mouth on Roderich's throat, his mouth. Right after that come the light kisses from both sides wherever they could get them. It gets hot all of a sudden as their tongues coax each other into a dance, displaying better methods of communication than Roderich and Vash have been all night. Eventually they lose their pants or shirt, or both. They'd fall to the bed and Roderich slid his hands below Vash's waist and begins to play. The musically gifted nation plays a different type of music, one that doesn't need a piano, and Vash accompanies him as a equal. His long fingers, brittle as Vash likes to think, and incapable of handling a sword or a gun as well as he should, handle this matter perfectly as they traced his body. Vash eventually returns the favor and Roderich squirms and moans under his touches, the other man's lean frame shivering in delight at the attention it is getting. Then came an arched back or two and at last a panting Roderich, usually under Vash as they finally looked each other in the eyes and tried to convey everything they just couldn't say other outside.

And they sleep. Or lie next to each other thinking too hard.

"You should come to Wien." Roderich breaks the silence between them, no longer trying to force himself back to Sleep's embrace. Vash moved a little closer to him.

"Why?"

"We could have a day there together. Go to the park, see something together. I have a few guest rooms that are very nice."

Vash turned his head to look at his childhood friend, at his mussed brown hair that was going to be styled later that morning into something unrecognizable, and his eyes devoid of the glasses that he doesn't need. He wants to know who else sees him like this. Does Ungarn? Does he call her when he gets back to Vienna saying his trip went well and skimping on the details, und by the way, libeling, could you manage to get from Budapest to Vienna, there's Don Giovanni opening tonight? Do they sleep together?

Once again Vash doesn't want to know. He wants to play their game as he has done and by the rules they have silently communicated between themselves. He doesn't know how to win the game, per se, nor does he know what the outcome is.

But the rules don't have Vienna in them.

"You better get some sleep before I kick you off back to the train."

Roderich huffs and closes his eyes again.

The burning question is there, on the tip of Vash's tongue.

"Why are you here? Why do we sleep together? Why do we pretend we don't? What are we to each other?"

Vash can't say that. He wants to scream it at him. He hasn't screamed at Roderich since the last time they fought each other. But those weren't words; they were sounds, growls, and battle cries. Yet they said more than Vash can say now, when they are civil and supposedly friendly. And he knows Roderich is trying, somewhat. What is Vienna to him, is it an acknowledgment that there's something between them? Is it? Vash can't say that to the man beside him either. All these questions he has, coming to him quicker than bullets fired from a machine gun, they stick to his throat and eventually fade into the back of his mind. And sleep claims him anyway.

In a few hours they are dressed, slightly sore, and ready to head out that door. Roderich stops him with a hand on his shoulder and a kiss on his forehead. For one moment, Vash lets himself forget what role he has to play in their game outside and feels something ripple through his spine the moment the musician's lips touch his skin. He grabs that ridiculous cravat and pulls Roderich to him for one last truth, one last kiss.

And then they step back into the world.

"You and Vash should really visit me in Wien, Erika." He hadn't bothered to fix his cravat. Vash can still see the shape it took from him grabbing it. Roderich gives him a brief glance over the rim of his coffee cup.

"That would be wonderful, Osterreich. Bruder, we should visit."

Erika sends those big teal eyes at him and he feels like he should promise her the world but he can't.

"I'll think about it."

And Vash will think about it, but his answer won't come.

And as Austria is finally ready to leave, on the doorstep, freeing Switzerland from the questions of why he plays this game anyway, the man turns to him. Roderich searches for something in Switzerland's face, violet eyes roaming and those lips pursing when he can't find whatever it is. His grip slackens on the doorframe and for a moment it looks like Roderich wants to say something. Vash does too; he just doesn't know what to say. The questions come back but his tongue feels heavy, hesitant.

Vash just slams the door once Roderich's outside.

Next round then.

A/N (continued): Well, that was it. I hope you guys enjoyed it and let me know what you think if you have the time! Thank you in advance. Here are some notes I place into the story.

Ungarn: German for Hungary

Don Giovanni: One of Mozart's famous operas. Vienna still has some of the best Opera Houses in the world so it makes sense that Roderich would frequent.

Wien: Vienna in German. For trivia, wiener dogs mean Viennese.

The battles Vash talks about are a serious of battles the Habsburg family, of Swiss origin, fought to claim land. The Swiss Cantons (all German at that point), who fought very well (these ragtag peasant forces eventually made the Swiss Mercenaries), were very fierce warriors. The story of William Tell, a legendary Swiss Mythical figure from the Uri canton, takes place in that time. However Austria sent forces into Switzerland for the next century or two.

Vash mentioning the "50's" is talking about Austria post-occupation and after Declaration of Neutrality which it signed in 1955.