Warning: language, M rated
Disclaimer: Don't own Hetalia.
Pairing: Prussia x Germany
No beta has seen it.
Historical notes on the bottom.
The other side of the Wall
The touch was featherlike. Tentative fingers skimmed across white skin adoring, worshipping every inch, shyly and slowly, as if it was the most precious thing in the world. Barely there, barely even noticeable, but it burned like the blazing Sun, or like a dancing bonfire in the darkest hours of the night.
Gilbert shivered.
The piercing sapphire blue gaze that bore into his ignited old feelings inside him. Feelings, he didn't experience for the last fifty or so years. Feelings, he wasn't sure he was ready to handle without completely breaking down.
God, he missed Ludwig.
He missed him more than he ever imagined missing anyone. He missed him more than he missed Heinrich, or old man Fritz. He missed being here, being home, he missed Germany and he missed Ludwig, and he missed his other half.
And now that he was finally standing so close to his brother, so unbelievably close, he was overwhelmed.
The air in the study was stifling.
The way the younger looked at him, illuminated only by the dim desk lamp, eyes shimmering like stars, made his throat squeeze.
Verdammt!
After so many years, after so many things that happened, he still loved him. And Gilbert loved him back just as much.
His lips trembled, fingers twisted into the soft fabric of the other's shirt as he was suddenly pulled closer, losing his balance for a moment before a hot mouth sealed over his.
The kiss was sweet and languid, and a strong arm circled his waist providing much needed warmth and security.
Gilbert melted into the feeling.
It's been a long time. And his body craved every touch, word and breath to anchor him to this reality. Now that the Wall was going down, that Germany was finally whole again, there was nothing keeping him here in this world anymore.
He couldn't quite explain it but he could feel the wind of change blowing across Europe for a while now. And the clearer it became that Russia won't be able to uphold his power, the better he understood his situation as well.
His presence was not needed.
Slowly but surely he was fading. Every morning he woke up, every yet another day spent with his friends and loved ones was a gift. A race against the inevitable.
And time was not on his side.
But he didn't want to think about it right now. This moment belonged to them.
Gilbert pushed forward hungrily, white hands wandering up on Germany's body weaving themselves around the blonde's neck. He pulled the man closer, cursing those couple of inches that the younger held over him, and deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue past pink lips.
Ludwig groaned, and his arms squeezed around Gilbert even more, moulding their figures perfectly as he took over the kiss.
There was no stopping now.
They separated only long enough to catch some much needed air before continuing enthusiastically, hands roaming eagerly and lips devouring lips. Nimble fingers tangled into clothes, tearing at the material impatiently, trying to get rid of it as soon as possible.
His body was on fire.
Desperately needing the physical contact, the feeling of skin against skin, Gilbert sneaked his hands under the younger's shirt exploring fervently all of those territories that used to belong to him. It was not enough. So he pushed the material out of the way to press his lips where fingers touched previously.
Ludwig moaned into the action, and retaliated by pressing his brother against the sturdy office desk and palming his slowly awakening erection boldly. Gilbert's breath hitched. His lips opened for a guttural moan which got stuck somewhere in his throat as he let this burning, all-consuming feeling send his senses into an overdrive.
It was still not enough.
Legs hooked around Germany's hips, trapping the curious hand between their pressed up groins as Gilbert leaned closer for another kiss.
They battled for dominance. Tongue met tongue, pushing forward to explore greedily and then drawing back when the other attacked in a same fashion. Teeth sunk into soft flesh.
Gilbert shamelessly groped his lover's body and Ludwig just as zealously sought his, and this continued until the heat between them was almost unbearable.
More.
They both wanted, needed more, and-
The door to the corridor closed with a dull thump, and they jumped apart like startled animals in the dark.
There was no light coming through the slightly ajar door, and Ludwig fixed his clothes quickly before pushing it open completely to take a peek at the empty corridor.
"There's no one over here." He turned back, sighing heavily with an apologetic look on his face. "Maybe we should go back. It's rude for the host to be away for so long."
Gilbert regarded him for a moment in silence.
Should they go back?
The blonde's skin was flushed in a lovely pink colour. His hair was mussed, and no matter how much he tried to fix his appearance, he just couldn't make look himself decent.
Not like he minded that, of course, Ludwig was even more enticing this way, and he couldn't give a flying fuck about the guests in the first place. No one invited them.
"I think we should take this to the bedroom instead."
"But the guests-"
"I already wasted enough time on them," Gilbert said sternly.
He couldn't wait any longer. It's not like he was so desperate to have sex, although it sure was a rather tempting extra, but he just wanted to spend some time with Ludwig. For as long as he could. For as long as he was allowed to. His existence was like a barely flickering candle in the wind, and he wondered if Germany would understand even if he didn't say it out loud. He just wanted to be together. "I'm finally home, West. Let me spend some time with you in peace and quiet."
And it seemed Ludwig did understand because he exhaled as if he was too tired to argue, and extended his hand invitingly.
"Let's go, then."
He smiled, warm and reassuring, and the older man didn't hesitate to grab after the appendage.
Before Gilbert could even notice, they were in his old room, falling on the barely used bed, mattress heavily creaking, and hurriedly undressing each other with unconcealed impatience. A belt buckle clinked on the floor. Clothes rustled and swished as they were haphazardly flung away.
Later Germany would pick them up and fold everything neatly, maybe even comment on how immaturely they behaved. And maybe, just maybe, Gilbert would agree with him, too, but for now it didn't matter. For now, the only thing that mattered was Ludwig, invitingly spread open on his bed, offering himself up for the older man to take.
He was beautiful. The now unruly blonde hair framed his handsome features like a golden crown, eyes shined like liquid pools of diamond, and hard muscles rippled under alabaster skin.
He wasn't flawless. Not anymore.
His body was marred by the iron teeth of history leaving jagged scars behind. Some of them were pale, bigger and smaller alike, but fully healed, leaving just a faint memory of long fought battles. Some of them were more prominent, still healing. And some of them left a burning scar, red and black and angry, that would never heal completely. For every bombed town. For every fucking camp that left charred soil and the stench of death behind.
Gilbert knew them well, because he had them, too. And he hated himself for it, because his were faded and weak and it was just not fair!
It wasn't Ludwig's fault.
It wasn't all Germany's fault either. Gilbert was there, too, he should have stopped his brother who was too young and inexperienced, and it was his responsibility as well! Yet he wasn't allowed to share in the pain and the burden equally. He wasn't even allowed to remain by his side while he healed after the war.
And he hated that even more than the fact that he was fading from this world completely. A fitting punishment. How ironic. So by any means, neither of them were flawless, but Ludwig was still the most beautiful being in his eyes and he loved him, and will love him till his very last breath. And he eagerly glided his hands over taut body as he leaned closer to press himself to the other, capturing his lips confidently, strongly and lovingly in a wet and hot kiss.
I love you.
His throat squeezed painfully blocking his voice. He wanted to say so many things, but the only thing he could do was to seal his mouth over every inch of the younger's body, lapping at every scar and blemish apologetically.
Forgive me.
If there was anyone to blame it was him. For not stopping West, for not protecting Ludwig from himself, from his people.
And he was ready to spend his remaining days trying to apologize, to repent for every mistake, for every missed opportunity, and for every foolish dream of fame and glory he carelessly planted in his little brother's head wanting to give him the world.
Did he love him too much? Maybe.
Was it a sin? Probably not.
And he would do it again without hesitation because in spite of all that happened Germany still existed, and Ludwig was stronger and more beautiful than ever, and he loved him back, despite all of the stupid blunders he has committed as an older brother.
He was selfish. A complete and utter fool.
And Gilbert wanted nothing more than to atone. For his own sake. For Ludwig's sake. For Feliciano's sake…
He pushed that last thought aside. It would come later.
Now he only concentrated on pleasuring the being trapped underneath him, licking and nipping at the most sensitive spots, fingers caressing over areas that left his lover breathless and moaning.
Ludwig was putty in his hands, and he nearly screamed when Gilbert engulfed his straining erection in whole, covering it with profuse amounts of saliva. Hands twisted into white locks, not sure of wanting to push or pull.
Gilbert purred around the pulsating member. A strange, nostalgic sense of satisfaction filling him that after so many years he was still awesome enough to elicit these sort of reactions from the usually composed man. And he wondered, just how many more occasions like this will he have to see his other half come undone like that? How many more times can they become one? How many more times can he say how much he loves him? If he even manages at all to squeeze the words past that painful knot in his throat.
How many more minutes, hours, days he has left?
He could disappear the very next moment. He didn't have any time to waste.
He was selfish.
And despite Ludwig offering himself up, this crippling sense of urgency pushed him to move, to crawl over the younger man and descend over his engorged member, forcing his own body instead to accept the other without any preparation.
And the pain was almost unbearable, tearing him apart and drenching in cold sweat, leaving breathless sobs and trembling muscles behind. But he needed it to feel alive. He needed the pain to know that he still existed. He needed to feel Ludwig being part of him, keeping him here in this world.
He wanted this, desired, to atone for everything he had done to Germany, and for everything he hadn't done for Ludwig. It hurt, but it was purifying at the same time and he never felt so full, and right and whole in his life.
Ludwig shrieked, his hands immediately grabbing after the older man's hips to stop him and pushing himself away from the bed and his lover as if the touch was burning.
"What the hell are you doing!?"
Gilbert's arms circled the blonde, coming around his neck in a vice like grip and pressing himself even closer.
"Don't move."
Damn. His voice quivered more than he imagined. But it's been a long time. And while it wasn't the first occasion that he let Ludwig dominate him willingly, it still wasn't easy.
The blonde froze at the shaky request.
"What's wrong? Why are you doing this?"
Why?
The older man dropped his head against the other's neck, breathing heavily and willing the pain away. It was almost gone. He was almost okay. His body was adjusting quickly. Perks of being a nation.
Why was he doing it again?
Oh, yes.
Because he was a fool. A scared fool, who was afraid of being too weak, of not having enough time and courage to apologize to Ludwig and to Feliciano, too, properly. Afraid of not telling them how much he loved them both. And that he wanted the two of them to be happy together.
Gilbert grinned sourly.
How unbelievably hypocritical of him! How unawesome!
Hogging Ludwig like that while wishing him happiness with another person…
But maybe just for now he could be selfish. Just for that short time he still had.
His hold tightened for a moment.
"Forgive me. For everything."
For failing as a brother. For failing as a lover. For not being there when needed.
It was barely a whisper. And he wondered if Germany even heard him or if he did, did he understand what he was trying to say.
Not like it really mattered. What was important, was the here and now, and now Ludwig's hands were drawing soothing circles on his trembling back, turning even the residual pain into long forgotten memories.
His body slowly warmed up again, and he pressed a few appreciative kisses against the blonde's cheek and lips.
Germany reciprocated by capturing his mouth with his own, one hand slipping between white tresses holding his head still to deepen the kiss.
Gilbert was more than happy to oblige, letting his lover's tongue explore to its will, then greedily push forward as well.
When they finally separated to catch some much needed air, Ludwig hugged him lovingly.
"There's nothing to forgive."
The older nation exhaled, relief washing over him like a warm, summer rain. He didn't even notice how tense he was before, and now that not only his body but his worried mind could relax a bit, he felt ready to move.
He breached his legs against the cushiony surface of the mattress and took a deep breath.
Lifting himself up on wobbly thighs was more difficult than he imagined, but luckily Ludwig was there to support him. Strong arms wrapped around thin waist holding him up for a moment, then Gilbert let gravity do its work, and he dropped back onto his lover's lap.
The friction was burning. The whole experience was rather unpleasant but he persevered, lifting himself up again, and again, and again until that uncomfortable, stretching feeling faded away and got replaced with something more carnal. And when Germany joined in as well, thrusting up against him in just the right angle, Gilbert knew he was gone.
There!
Right there!
He let out a moan, loud and shameless this time, and increased the pace impaling himself repeatedly. Ludwig's hold tightened around him. Lips met in a sloppy and frantic kiss, then wandered over neck and shoulders and every bit of skin they could reach, biting and licking and leaving red marks behind.
God! He was so close!
His vision was blurring. Something coiled deep in his belly, ready to burst any moment now.
Almost.
His breath hitched. All sane thoughts got fogged over with lust.
Almost there!
And suddenly the feeling was gone, leaving him empty and desperate and unsatisfied, as his weakened body gave out on him in the most crucial of points.
Gilbert fell forward, muscles refusing to move again and sobbed against Ludwig's shoulder, nails digging deep into the younger's flesh as if holding on for dear life.
"I can't-"
He was on his back even before he could finish the sentence.
His legs hooked around Germany automatically, allowing the other to push into him in a fast but steady rhythm. The change was more than welcome. Gilbert gasped as the tension in the pit of his stomach started building up again.
Pleasure coursed in his system as if all of the blood in his body got replaced with fiery, intoxicating liquor, leaving him dizzy and hot and extremely sensitive.
Just a bit more!
He only needed a tiny bit more to leap over the edge, and when Ludwig finally touched his neglected erection and pumped, the world shuttered around him.
His frame tensed up, the near scream that wanted to rip his chest open was gulped down by the blonde's mouth, and he was falling, unable to breathe, to think, unable to do anything else than succumb to lust.
There was nothing, only scorching hot, cleansing pleasure.
Ludwig came inside him shortly after, and they both fell heavily between the pillows, sweaty, tired and panting.
And for the first time in a very long time Gilbert felt alive.
oOo
The crisp and clean sheets felt heavenly against his tender skin.
Ludwig insisted on changing the bedding after they took a hot bath, - and he did pick up their scattered clothes as well, muttering something about behaving like teenagers in heat, at which Gilbert couldn't repress a soft chuckle – and now they were comfortably lying on their sides, his back pressed against the younger's chest, enjoying the momentary silence.
It felt warm, and calm, and safe.
Germany's breath tickled his neck. An arm lazily draped over his side, fingers interweaving atop of his belly.
The older nation blinked a couple of times supressing a yawn, not really wanting to sleep just yet but too satiated to be bothered with anything else.
Initially he thought Ludwig would be adamant on going back to the guests, but his brother didn't say anything, and he didn't complain.
Finally, he had time for himself, and he could actually look around his old room and not just fall into the bed ungracefully like a sack of potatoes, too tired to even get undressed.
The place was surprisingly clean.
No visible dust was covering the furniture, the drinks cabinet was stocked up, and even those few potted herbs that were decorating his room seemed to have been watered regularly. For nearly fifty years.
His chest constricted for a moment.
Ah, this old age made him sentimental. Not awesome.
"I see, you've been keeping my room in order."
The hand holding his tensed a bit.
"It was Feli."
Something in the blonde's voice made the older man turn around and look up with an amused smirk. Was Germany embarrassed? Or was it pride?
"Oh, really?"
Germany's cheeks turned pink.
"I wanted to do it myself, but it was difficult. This place is full of memories and… Well, you get the picture." Yes. He got the picture. And he missed Ludwig, too. "But I only found out about Feli's cleaning habit recently. I have to admit, he managed to do a decent a job." There was a hidden smile in the corner of his mouth as he said that.
So it was pride after all.
Gilbert couldn't decide if he was happy or jealous. Probably both.
Not like it mattered really. His time in this world was limited, and seeing the two of them together put his mind at ease. Everything was as it supposed to be. As an older brother and as someone who was indebted to Italy in more ways than one, he was happy. As a lover… Oh, well. It's not like he could hold that title for much longer anyway.
Gilbert shut his eyes and smiled. Accepting reality wasn't easy, but it was fine. Ludwig and Feliciano had each other. They would manage. He approved.
And he wanted his brother to know that, too.
"Aren't you a lucky one?" The smirk on his face said everything. Yes, he was happy. And, yeah, he was envious, too. But it was okay. "He cooks like an angel, cleans up to your standards, and he's cute to boot. Seriously, you got yourself a perfect partner!"
"Italy is not my partner," Germany deadpanned.
What?
"Huh?"
"Italy is not my partner," the blonde man repeated again.
Not his partner?
Why not? That was incomprehensible! Gilbert saw them together waiting for him on the other side of the Wall. Italy was living here! He was acting like a co-host, helping out during this mayhem. How could they not be together? Was Ludwig really that blind?
Gilbert pushed himself up in a sitting position, wincing as his hurting body refused to follow orders smoothly. But he managed, somehow, and was looking down on his brother now, who was lying on his back rather unmoved.
"You do know he loves you, right?" Gilbert asked just to clear up all the confusion. He was blunt, but sometimes that was the only way to make his little brother see things in a different light. "He has been in love with you for-" For centuries. For too fucking long. But he couldn't say it, not without giving away information that Ludwig might not have been ready to hear just yet. "For quite a while now."
The younger nation perked up, one of his brows arching up questioningly.
"For a while? You mean since before I became Germany. Since the times of Holy Rome."
It was definitely not a question. And Gilbert almost choked on a stunned gasp when he realized just how much Ludwig actually knew. He wasn't surprised when he said that Italy was in love. And he was aware of his past as well. Just how much more did he know? What else?
"So, you got your memories back?"
Germany shook his head.
"Romano told me."
Gilbert's fingers twisted into the duvet angrily.
"That little aggressive tomato bastard!?"
It was infuriating. What was that little shit even thinking! How dared he butt in to someone else's life like that? Honestly, how that foul-mouthed little prick could be related to a sweet angel like Italy, was something entirely unfathomable.
Germany sighed.
"Don't be angry. It's good that he did," he said while sitting up as well. "Besides, it wasn't that shocking. I think, subconsciously I always knew."
Gilbert looked at the younger suspiciously, but the blonde seemed to be honest. He was okay. Calm, accepting, as if the information really didn't shock him, not back then and not now either.
That went down rather easily then. Should Gilbert consider himself being lucky? One less thing on his list to clear up, – because he did want to tell Ludwig at some point – but he sort of wanted to do it himself. As a brother. Besides, if this was the reason Germany was keeping his distance from the Mediterranean nation, then it was actually rather unfortunate that his past was revealed prematurely, by Romano no less.
"Just before you have any misconceptions, Feli loves you for who you are today. Not because you were Holy Rome."
He had to say that. He had to make sure that Ludwig understood Italy's feelings properly. They belonged together, and he promised himself that he would make both of them happy!
"I know."
He… Knew?
Then how come they were not together? It made no sense!
Wasn't Germany in love with Italy, too? Shouldn't they be together by now? They had nearly fifty years to sort their relationship out!
Gilbert just couldn't understand it! Did he misunderstand his brother's feelings that much? He always thought that Ludwig was just too shy. During the war they all had their problems, and afterwards they needed some time to rebuild their friendships, but he hoped that by now everything would be okay. That Italy's feelings would have gotten through to him, which they apparently did, but for some reason were not reciprocated.
Was he wrong all along?
They locked gazes. Sapphire blue met rusty red. For the first time in quite a long while Gilbert felt unsure of himself.
"Don't you love him, too?" he asked, confusion turning his voice thin and insecure. "Why aren't you together?"
Germany exhaled loudly and turned his eyes away. His fingers combed through blonde locks awkwardly as if he was stalling for time. Not sure what he wanted to say. Or being too embarrassed to say it.
His face bloomed in different shades of pink.
"I do love him," he admitted finally. "But I love you, too. Besides, the two of you had a special relationship during the war, and it didn't feel right stepping in between."
Oh, that.
Well, he did have a special relationship with Italy. With everything what the brunette did for him, both as the Holy See and Italy. And of course as Feliciano, too. Supporting him throughout the ages, giving him a name as a nation and as a human… Gilbert was indebted. He swore to protect Italy. And that feeling never really faded.
Italy was a constant in his life. He loved the boy.
But was it that type of special love?
Gilbert wasn't sure.
He always knew that the Mediterranean nation had feelings for Holy Rome. And during the war it became painfully obvious that he had feelings for Germany, too. Proper, real feelings, not remnants from the times of the blonde's previous personification. And because Gilbert always felt sort of guilty that he stole Holy Rome from his benefactor, he decided to stay out of their way. If Germany chose Italy, he would accept it.
So, he never really allowed himself to feel anything else towards the small, bubbly nation than gratitude.
Could he imagine Feliciano as a lover, though?
Yes, rather easily actually.
Gilbert blinked, and exhaled slowly, surprised by how easily and calmly this notion materialised in his head. There was no cathartic revelation, a flash of light, or trumpets blowing triumphantly as he quietly admitted to being in love with Feliciano. The idea came like a warm gust of wind clearing away the fog that was occupying a part of his mind that subconsciously always knew the truth. He never realised that because he didn't even want to acknowledge that a part like that existed in him. It wasn't his place to do so. But now it didn't matter anymore, and Ludwig didn't seem to mind for whatever reason… And it was the undeniable truth. He loved Italy in his own way. For once not possessively either, but maybe exactly because of that he was more special than anyone else.
"Feli is really important to me," he started slowly. "And I think you're right. I love him more than I initially believed. Our history is really, really long after all. I tell you about it one of these days if you want."
"That would be nice."
Gilbert smiled.
Sure, it would be. Curiosity was probably eating Ludwig up for a while now.
"But my feelings don't matter in this case," he said suddenly. No matter how strongly he felt for the little nation, it was not reciprocated. Not in the romantic sense at least. "Feli is in love with you, not me. And I'm okay with that. Actually, knowing that the two of you are happy together would please me greatly. So don't worry about me. You should accept his feelings."
That was the logical thing to do. He didn't have much time left in this world so there was no reason for complicating his feelings. He was content with the situation as it was.
He wanted the best for Ludwig. And he knew Italy could give him everything a man could ever desire, because he loved the little nation, and because he got everything he ever truly desired from him, as well. A name. A home. And a family.
But Ludwig just shook his head.
"I can't do that. I love you, too, Brother. You're more important!"
Ba-dump.
For a moment Gilbert was happier than any man on Earth could be. But it lasted only a split second. Only until he realized how selfish it was.
What good it did for Ludwig to stay by his side? He wasn't a proper nation anymore! Germany didn't need him! And he was a failure as a brother, too! He couldn't support him in any meaningful way, he was just a burden. A burden, which luckily disappeared soon anyway.
Ah, that was a sour way of looking at things. But it was the truth! And it made Gilbert angry because Ludwig had to know this, as well!
"Are you really that delusional?" He started his voice laced with irritation and annoyance. Was the blonde really that naïve? "What can you gain from sticking with me? I'm going to fade away soon, and you know it! Germany is a whole and sovereign nation now. You are a whole and sovereign nation, so don't tell me you couldn't feel this happening!" Gilbert was sure that his brother had to feel this change, too. It was happening for a while now. Even before the Wall collapsed. If he was aware of it, then Ludwig had to be aware, as well. They were two sides of the same coin! Not for much longer, but still-…
"Don't say that!" Germany interrupted suddenly. "You won't disappear! Even if you don't have the title of East Germany or Prussia, you're still the Teutonic Order so-"
"Stop it!"
Gilbert's voice cut off the younger's tirade like the metallic clink of a guillotine silencing the roused mob.
Uncomfortable tension enveloped the room.
He couldn't take it.
God! He didn't know if he wanted to cry or laugh! Wasn't this just pathetic?
He has already given up, accepted his fate, yet his little brother was trying to give him hope. But there was no hope. No stopping destiny, or turning the wheels of time back.
Gilbert pressed a palm over his eyes. He wasn't crying. There was no use in it. He lived long, and he lived well, that's what he always told himself.
But he should have expected it. Ludwig hated losing. Hated giving up. Of course he wouldn't let him just fade away like that.
Damn, the kid inherited more from him than he imagined!
And it just made things so much more difficult.
"I heard what you did." He refused to look at the blonde. "You reinstituted the Knights as The Roman Catholic order thanks to Italy and Austria. Remind me to thank them for that." He heard about it from Hungary, who probably knew this from Austria himself. That pompous prick did anything to impress her. But the notion was rather sweet, and he couldn't be more thankful to all of them. Unfortunately it was entirely futile.
He took a deep breath. Fuck, why were his eyes stinging? So unawesome. But he managed to gulp down the painful tightness in his throat, and look at Germany properly. "I appreciate it," he said weakly. "But no matter what you do, there is no stopping it. I'm not needed anymore."
"Please, don't say that."
"Let's face it. I lived over eight hundred years, and I think I was fairly successful. So, there is no need to feel sorry-"
"Please." Germany didn't let him finish. He was drawn into a tight hug instead, arms closing around him securely. "I still need you."
Damnfuckinghell!
Why was it so difficult? Why did it hurt so much? Why were his eyes full of tears?
He accepted his fate. He was okay with it. So why!?
He still didn't want to die.
There were times, - when he was still much younger - that dying didn't bother him. Of course, he wanted to live, he didn't plan on disappearing any time soon, but he thought that as long as he went out in a battle, as long as he died fighting for his people and for his lands, it would be okay. It was a heroic way to go. He lived solely for his children, and he would die for them, or die with them if that was his fate.
But now the people he used to cherish as his nation belonged to Germany, and instead he gained something else. Close friends, who although swayed by politics sometimes, were friends nevertheless. A family, as real as it was possible for beings like them. A lover…
And for the first time he thought that maybe dying in a bed, peacefully, in the arms of the person he loved the most wasn't that bad after all.
And as Ludwig's hold tightened around him even more, and his warmth seeped into his aching bones, he couldn't stop the tears from spilling, gliding down his pale cheeks leaving wet ridges behind.
He wanted to live.
Pressing his face against Ludwig's chest, Gilbert dug his fingers into the other's hard flesh.
How pathetic. How unawesome. Unbefitting behaviour for an old nation like him.
He took a couple of deep breaths, calming his nerves and his shaking body.
It was okay.
There was no helping it.
"You'll be just fine," he said finally, voice still trembling a bit as he talked into the younger's skin. "You won't be alone. You will have Feliciano by your side. So stop hesitating and just tell him how you feel."
There was no reaction for a while, and the older man was preparing for another outburst of resistance and excuses, but Germany nodded finally, silently accepting the situation. He didn't move, his arms were still holding Gilbert firmly, as if protecting from something.
Gilbert let himself relax a bit.
It was okay.
He was warm and safe. He didn't have a lot of regrets. And if he died right now, he'd die happy.
"It was good to be around." He smiled suddenly. "I liked being a knight, and I liked being the white demon of Europe. I was awesome… And I loved watching over you as well. Although, I made a lot of mistakes as an older Brother, haven't I?" he added softly.
But Ludwig just shook his head.
"You were awesome," he muttered into silver hair as a reply.
Gilbert chuckled at that, relief washing over him, leaving him unexpectedly tired and sleepy. "Thanks. Make sure that the future generations know just how awesome I was."
There was no answer but he didn't expect one. Ludwig only hugged him even tighter.
It would be fine. No matter what happened, Germany would manage even without him. Besides, it was inevitable.
He wanted to live.
But it was okay.
He was okay.
~Fin~
Historical Notes:
Roman Catholic order: In 1929, a branch of the Teutonic Knights was converted to a purely spiritual Roman Catholic religious order and renamed the Deutscher Orden ("German Order"). After Austria's annexation by Nazi Germany in 1938, the Teutonic Order was suppressed throughout the Großdeutsches Reich until defeat of that regime, although the Nazis used imagery of the medieval Teutonic Knights for propagandistic purposes. The Roman Catholic order survived in Italy, however, and was reconstituted in Germany and Austria in 1945. (Wiki)
All the historical data is gathered mainly from the Wikipedia. Might not be the most reliable of source, but this is just a fanfiction. Thanks for reading through all of this!