Prussia x Adult Sealand
"Prussia, love, I'm home!" He felt stupid using a line like that, so cliché, so predictable. But if it was good enough to become a cliché, it had to work, didn't it? He knew that his partner suspected him of unbelievable acts; it was no secret. In fact, he was already used to being interrogated and yelled at. It had become a part of their nightly routine. Arrive home, be yelled at, change clothes, eat dinner, be yelled at, try to go to bed, be interrogated, it continued throughout the night, usually.
There wasn't answer from the kitchen as there usually was- slightly worrying, but none so more than usual- so he went to go investigate. He admitted to himself that he expected him to be in the kitchen (or really anywhere) cleaning. By the time he reached the hallway, it was quite clear that this wasn't the case. There were clothes strewn all over the floor; mostly his own, probably torn from his drawers. His belongings were scattered here and there as well- a telescope being the most obvious and disturbing. The lens was broken and the metal bent.
He exploded with rage. Anything but the telescope.
"PRUSSIA!" he near shrieked. Anything but the telescope.
He ran through the house, ripping doors open so hard that they nearly fell off their hinges and then slamming them shut when he didn't find what he was looking for. He found more of his belongings broken and tossed to the sides of every room in the house, the bathroom included. He shuddered in disgust when he saw his ties lying there, soaking wet, in the toilet. The sailing awards and maps he held close to his heart were dented and ripped in the dining room. The majority of his clothes were found in the kitchen, some with holes and some torn to absolute shreds.
Not again, he thought. He made a run for it, bracing himself for what was sure to come.
When he reached the bedroom- the place, he figured, that he should've checked first- it was in pristine condition: bed made, night table in order, and the closet door which, lying open, revealed a perfectly organized array of all of Prussia's clothing. The floor was vacuumed, the paintings hung straight, and books were piled neatly on the dresser. One thing disturbed him greatly, however: the curtains were drawn and, from what he could see through them, the window was boarded up.
Dare he even turn around?
He did and, after hearing the scariest laugh, received exactly what he had been expecting.
As he swung the journal- or, rather, multiple journals tied together- down on his husband's head, he laughed. Sealand deserved it, after all. There was no denying it. Who was he trying to kid, anyways? Of course Awesome Prussia would figure him out sooner or later.
Now that he had a few hours on hand until Sealand woke up, he hopped up on the bed and untied the five or so journals. He opened up the latest one and smiled at the recent entries. All of them confirmed the already obvious fact: he was awesome. Speaking of, he picked up a pen to write in today's entry:
I am awesome. I am awesome. I am awesome. I am awesome. I am awesome. I bet he's wishing I was invading his vital regions against his will instead of knocking him out because I'm that awesome. I am awesome. I am awesome. I am awesome. I am awesome. I am awesome. Everyone agrees, ja? No doubt about it because: I am awesome. I am awesome. I am awesome. I am awesome.
When he looked up- after writing the word 'awesome' a few million more times- Sealand was beginning to awaken.
"So, you decided to join the land of the living then?" he asked in the bitchiest tone possible, completely aware of the fact that he was the reason Sealand had left in the first place.
"Funny, I half expected someone as awesome as you would come up with a better comeback," he said bitterly, all but spitting venom when he spoke the dreaded word. Prussia was taken aback for a moment, but finally remembered the point of all this.
"That's beside the point! I am Awesome Prussia, yet you leave me here all day by myself to do everything! I know I ask the same every night: why don't you help? Why don't you do anything? It's only because you don't do shit! Well, I've strewn all of your belongings about the house, though I bet you've noticed, and this time, I refuse to pick them up and fix them. You're turn to be the housewife, Sealand," he said as he threw a maid's outfit at the poor man who, by now, had such a bad headache that he couldn't pick himself up off the floor.
"B-b-b-b-but my telescope! You can't leave me here with this!"
He left the room with his head held high, laughing manically, and trying not to acknowledge the very dizzy and very upset Sealand that was left behind him. He called out just three words as he was nearing the front door, about to open it:
"Suck it, loser!"