Enjoy the silence
This was 1945, the month of April , never a spring had been so hot in Germany, but the climate was in no way responsible for it.
It had started the twenty of April. An assault carried out by the allies, Russia leading it far before the others, a merciless show of power that had no other purpose than finishing the third Reich off for good.
It was meant to be a cruel example, then a memory that would survive for centuries to make sure people would remember and wouldn't want that kind of thing to happen, ever again.
Only later, in the History books, the nameless horror that happened during those long days would be given its name: Operation Berlin.
Under the allied fire, Berlin was bombed for days. A merciless fire, raining down from the sky, that was all the poor souls inhabiting the city could see, that was also the last thing most of them saw then.
Days and nights, the bombings seemed like they would never ever cease.
Germany was powerless. He had no news from his leader for days now and he didn't hope anymore. He knew that the insane Fuhrer had abandoned him already. He couldn't blame him, himself knew that all hopes were lost.
Somewhere deep in himself he knew that it was for the best, and he was glad that things would not turn out as his leader had planned. But, still, the defeat left a bitter taste in his mouth. So much innocent lives that could have been spared in a war that proved to be a waste of time, and the consequences he knew would be dire.
Koningberg had fallen to the Russians two weeks before. The city had been all Prussia had left, and now, his dear big brother was bound to be erased from the map, most probably definitely.
Gilbert, though landless, was at his side still, watching over him- even if he never gave the impression he cared at all- like he has always had since that day in 1871, when they first met.
Berlin was burning, its inferno consuming the livings and bringing down old monuments, treasure of History, reducing all to ashes, to nothing.
The flames burned Germany's heart, and it wasn't metaphorical, Ludwig was in so much pain that it made him force-less and delirious.
He could sense all what was happening to his people, to the city, it was unbearable. Still, he had to bear it all, in the relative silence of his bed room. He was laying on his bed, whimpering and feverish. At the window, his brother, was watching Berlin burn with a blank face.
If Gilbert's expression showed no emotion, his heart though, was going through new levels of sorrow.
He was done for (or so he though so, then) but it was okay, because he had lived a long and awesome life, with nothing left to regret even though the downfall had been hard and bitter. He was only worried for his little brother. The state Ludwig was in, all the pain he had to go through, was tearing the Prussian's heart apart.
He knew that the pain would not kill Ludwig now, but what about his near future?
What was going to happen to his brother, when the fire would cease, when the war would be over and the allies victorious at last? Will they take over the country and claim it as a war price? would his little West's fate be as fatal as his at the end?
Prussia shook his head, refusing the eventuality his brother would be wiped off the face of the world too. Ludwig was too young to die. It seemed to Gilbert that, yesterday again, Ludwig had to look up to look into his eyes.
Never before such beautiful, sparkling blue eyes, looked at me with so much love and pride...else than my beloved- now dead- king.
West might look like a man today, and he certainly was big and strong, but his life had barely started. He was, what? A few decades old.
That was so young an age for a nation.
Gilbert couldn't know what the future would be and probably he wouldn't be there anymore to see it happen. For now, he just wished he could do something to relieve his brother's pain.
He walked toward the bed and sat down next to Ludwig. Bringing a hand up, he pushed blond bangs away from a wet, burning forehead.
-" West?" He called softly.
-"B..bruder...m..mein...Herz..Brennt...Hurts" ( My heart burns) Germany replied in a low, agonized voice.
-" I know, shh" Gilbert stroked his brother's face gently, hoping the touch would bring him comfort. It was the least he could do and he felt more powerless than ever then, not to be able to do more than that.
Ludwig, eyes half closed, mouth twisting in pained grimaces, winced quietly. He wanted to look strong in front of his brother, even if the pain was almost making him wish he was dead already.
-" West...Is there something I can do?" Gilbert decided to lay down next to him, hoping the closeness and his warmth would ease the pain.
There was no answer for a moment. Ludwig, drowned in a world of pure agony, was debating with himself, tore apart by his need for relief and the desire to keep a relatively strong figure in front of the man he loved and respected the most.
But the flames were too cruel for his inner child to handle any more of their searing burns alone.
-" Hold me" He weakly and slowly snuggled against his brother who immediately wrapped his longs arms around his shaking form, holding him close.
For a short moment, Ludwig felt better. The warmth of his brother's arms around him was the sweetest feeling, it was like a balm. but, once he was aware of his self again, the pain seemed to come back ten folds and he couldn't hold on a moan of pain.
Gilbert tensed, feeling the tremors that rattled his poor brother's body. There had to be a way to make him feel better...If only he had some medicine, drugs that could lure his Ludwig to sleep.
But he had none of it.
Germany tightened his hold and moved even closer if it was possible. "Make them stop, please..."
His pleas were not rational, he knew it. No one would hear him beg for mercy, no one other than his brother. He had no army general left to speak with his voice, they were either dying or surrendering.
Gilbert knew and said nothing. He kept stroking his little brother's face and shoulders, his other hand drawing circle across his back and the Prussian marvelled at how strong his little Ludwig had grown. "I'm sorry, West..There's nothing I can..." Powerless! He bit down on a sob, he could not cry now, not when his brother was suffering hell in his arms.
-" Make it go, Gilbert, please!" He grabbed his big brother's shirt with trembling fists and pulled at the buttons. He couldn't muster enough focus to actually open them the appropriate way.
Prussia understood what was asked of him. Physical bonding was something that happened before, like a natural and beloved ritual between them that strengthened their relation, in addition to their blood link.
The love they shared broke the barriers of morale a long time ago already.
If Prussia never ever said 'no' to his brother the times desire flooded his eyes, today was exception.
Sadly, he wasn't really in the mood for that kind of things right then. The setting, a burning city that was once his capital and now West's. His brother, feverish, and sailing down a river of torment. How could he even bring himself to be turned on in such a situation?
-" East...Please!" Ludwig whimpered against his throat, his kisses so weak that Gilbert could barely feel them.
But he would do anything for his brother, if that could will away the pain, he would submit.
-" Alright" he said, his voice dipping toward the end. There was silence then, as he brought his mouth down on his brother's lips.
It was far from satisfying, the way his brother barely kissed back, too weakened to do so. Gilbert forced memories of their usually heated kisses to his mind to help himself go on while his tongue brushed against his brother's irresponsible one.
The only satisfaction he got, aside of the ever enjoyable feeling of West's soft skin under his fingers, was that Ludwig no longer whimpered in pain. His body had somewhat sagged down and his shaking had decreased. That encouraged Gilbert to continue and he slowly peeled his brother's clothes off, his hand caressing the expense of warm skin the fabric no longer covered.
Usually, their making out session, albeit consensual and made out of love, were rather rough. After all, they were both manly warriors, they enjoyed some violence in bed, savages kisses, short foreplay, rough- sometimes almost animalistic- love-making. Plain tenderness was a very rare occurrence between them. Of course, it happened sometimes, when it was really needed, but most of the time, none of them really needed it when it came to bed activities.
This time, it would be entirely different, though. Mostly because Prussia was far to be as existed as he usually was when in bed with his brother, and also because Ludwig would not handle rough sex that day.
Prussia straddled his brother and replaced his hands on him, gliding them down both sides of his chest he knew was sensitive. Gilbert bent down and resumed the kiss he had broken seconds ago. This time, Ludwig responded. Weakly, the blond German's tongue started to dance with his brother's and he gave back the caresses he was receiving, still clumsily because the pain was still there to hamper his movements.
Despite the lack of proper setting, Prussia eventually found himself aroused by the contact and soon , desire made his pants tights. Ludwig's pain slowly got covered by layers of pleasure and himself soon felt the warm pool of arousal invade his lower regions. The pain of having his capital burned down by enemy fire was suffocated by others feelings; the love and desire he had for his brother. His body recovered its strength, kisses after kisses and pleasured moans after pleasured moans, his mind forgot for a moment the horror his present was made of.
Gilbert moved down his body, leaving a trail of kiss in his way, to bring his brother into new level of pleasure. He took hold of his manliness and wrapped his lips around it, sucking the entire member into his mouth. He watched, relief suddenly standing out amongst other emotions, as his brother's face contorted in raw pleasure. Sufferings that had been marring his West's handsome face were now gone and Gilbert was glad he had achieved this.
He pleasured his brother until Germany's urgent moans told him he was on the edge of release. He stopped then and crawled back up over his brother, in need to have those lips on his.
While his mouth was enjoying the taste of his West, he thought of what to do next and decided swiftly. Fumbling inside of the bedside drawer for the lube they usually used, he got some on his fingers and, one by one, stuck them in himself, preparing his entrance for his West.
That would be something new, something they had never done this way, something Prussia was now willing do do, for the first time since after the old king died.
He wanted to tell his West that he trusted him, without using words. He knew his little brother would understand.
And indeed, he saw in his brother's eyes, as he descended on him, that the message was getting across. It felt good, he realized, half consciously because of the sudden pleasure of his West's hardness filling him and hitting just the right place on his first trust.
He rode him, fiercely, like he had never allowed himself to do before, bouncing up and down, impaling himself on his brother over and over again. He screamed his pleasure and Germany screamed along. Their voice sounded as one, their body merging as one, the foresight of a far away future they could never have hoped for, then, but that would happen some day, decades later.
After long years of loneliness and some more pain.
But they didn't know that, then. They just enjoyed the moment, the pleasure their joined body provided, their closeness and the fact that, at that moment, there was no more pain.
They both came, one after the other and almost at the same time, uttering each other's name and eventually falling back in a tangle of limbs on the stressed mattress.
-" How are you feeling now, West?" Gilbert asked his brother as they had taken their initial position, snuggled together on the large bed.
-" Tired" Germany replied with a small smile- those were so rare that it made Gilbert grin.
-" Kesese! Nothing more normal! My awesomeness does that!"
His brother said nothing for a moment and closed his eyes. Prussia knew that the words stuck in his throat wouldn't let him sleep unless he'd free them.
So, he spoke.
-" West?" He called in a whisper.
-"Hmm?" Was the only reply he got.
-" Ich liebe dich." The words fled out in a whisper, like birds out of a cage.
-" Ich liebe dich auch." Germany answered without hesitation.
And, then, deep down his self, Prussia knew that he would survive the loss of his nation.
END