Title: On Basketball and Blackmail
Summary: Gilbert comes home from a losing basketball game, just wanting to sit in his sorrow. Someone or something is causing him distress in the tub.
Warning: Implies PrussiaxAustria, and definite GermanyxItaly. Human names used.
Rating: T
A/N: Sooo, I deleted this by accident. Luckily I saved it (unlike MN3000 who saves NOTHING).
Four seconds left on the clock and Gilbert was left with an open lane to the basket. Quickly, he dribbled the ball straight past the foul line and straight down the middle. Adrenaline rushed through his body as he charged in for a lay-up. The crowd went wild as he shot... and missed. (1)
Gilbert groaned at the memory of his failed attempt at winning. How could he, the star center or Jefferson High, miss the easiest lay-up of his high school career? There had been no one guarding him, the court was completely empty, yet he still missed. This was a devastating blow to Jefferson's winning streak. They had been finalists in the state wide basketball tournament, and all they needed was that last shot to win.
Sitting in his sweaty Mercedes, Gilbert had to resist the urge to slam his head against the steering wheel. How could anyone be so stupid?
Maybe it was the constant screams of "sunblock" from the other teams spectators that had messed him up. (2) Or maybe it was the fact that Roderich had been staring intently at him the whole time. Damn that Austrian, he thought, cursing the fact that every time Roderich looked at him made his stomach erupt into a flock of butterflies.
"One day I swear I'll - Mein Gott!" Gilbert was cut short when it started to pour. It looked like the heavens opened up and decided to rain on his parade, as if he hadn't done that already.
The German boy let out a string of curses as he pulled into his driveway. Turning off the engine, he steeled himself for the down pour. How he hated the rain. It was wet, cold, and unattractive. He hated that because he was albino, people expected him to like dreary things like this (3). Sure, rain was peaceful, just when he was sitting inside of a warm building with hot cocoa in his hands.
Grabbing his bag and hastily locking the door, Gilbert sprinted to the front door. He fumbled with his keys, letting out swears that would surprise even his grandmother under his breath. How he hated the rain.
Finally, he fit the key into the lock and went inside, throwing down his bag and shoes as he went. All he wanted to do was drink something warm, take a bath, and go to bed so he could wallow in his own humiliation. It was a rare occasion when the awesome Gilbert Beilschmidt humiliated himself and when he did, the world came to an end.
As he walked through the house, he shed off his clothing in anticipation for the boiling hot bath that he was going to take (4). His socks were on the stairs, his jersey in the hallway. He smirked, thinking that Ludwig would have a cow when he saw the mess he was making.
"That's what you get for being a clean freak," he chuckled, filling the tub with scalding water. He winced, then smiled as he put a finger in to test the temperature. Just right.
Stripping off the rest of his clothing, Gilbert sunk into the water and let out a sigh of relief. Now he could relax.
Fate had other plans for him when he heard a crash coming from downstairs. It was loud and twinkly, maybe glass had broken? Usually he wouldn't have cared, but he was a sitting duck for whatever lunatic had gotten into the house. There was another crash as Gilbert mulled the first one over. He was seriously starting to get freaked out.
"Francis, Anthony, this isn't funny!" He called, remembering how his friends had teased him after the game. Maybe they were just messing with him.
It was the husky yell that made Gilbert bolt out of the bath tub. He quickly dried off and put on boxers and shorts, he could care less about a shirt. Racing to his room, he pulled out on of the daggers from his collection and went quietly down the stairs.
"OH MEIN GOTT!" a voice screamed.
Gilbert's heartbeat quickened as he heard sounds of struggle coming from the kitchen. The scream had sounded like his brother.
"Ludwig!" he yelled, all caution aside. His brother was in trouble. He ran to the kitchen and stopped short.
"Was zur Hölle?" (5) he exclaimed in disgust. He had ran out of the bath tub like an idiot expecting someone beating up his brother. What he found was Ludwig and Feliciano Vargas making out on the kitchen counter.
His mother's favorite glass vase was on the floor in pieces. Papers that had once been in a neat stack were thrown across the room.
"Um.. A... I can explain," Ludwig sputtered stupidly.
"Luddy, why does he have a knife?" Feliciano asked, clinging to Ludwig in fright.
"The better question would be, 'What the hell are you doing here?'" Gilbert said, raising an eyebrow. He quickly put the dagger behind his back.
"Please," Ludwig's eyes went to puppy dog mode. "Please don't tell mom and dad," Gilbert thought about it, then a huge grin filled his features.
"One word, bruder," Gilbert chuckled, "Blackmail,"
Alright, that's it! I needed MegaNerd3000's help on this, only because it happened to him once. He was in the shower and freaked out, got a knife, and found his brother snogging his girlfriend. Fail! Now I'll explain the numbers:
1. So this actually happened to me. I wrote this one shot after my basketball team lost three games in a row, all due to my inability to shoot a lay-up.
2. A guy on MegaNerd3000's basketball team is albino. Every time he goes in for a shot, the crowd for the other team yells "Sunblock" to mess him up, indicating that he needs a tan. It never works though...
3. That same albino guy actually screamed when it rained after a game one time... MegaNerd3000 called him a bad name (I sure as hell won't repeat it).
4. Boiling showers appeal to me. I always crank the water the the highest temperature when I shower, even though it hurts sometimes... MegaNerd3000 thinks I should stop self mutilating. I tell him to shove off.
5. What the hell in German.