A/N: …this is the result of what happens when I text people at four in the morning. "orz
Disclaimer: I do Not Own Hetalia
Roderich sliced into the cake gingerly, marring the delicately prepared butter cream frosting with painstakingly straight lines forming a forty-five degree angle. The cake had been carefully prepared by Ludwig as a token of apology for his brother's behavior, but the man would never admit to it, regardless of the immaculate state of the cake. White butter cream frosting coated the circular cake, delicately crafted yellow roses coating the edges and piano keys covered one half of the remaining inner circle, with music notes covering the other. The sides of the cake had carefully carved horizontal lines stretching across, with a yellow line of frosting at the crease separating the top and side.
Roderich felt guilty for disturbing the work of art by sampling a piece, but upon seeing the sponge-like texture of the chocolate cake within, he quickly dismissed the guilt.
The taste was heavenly-perfectly moist, with not too much cocoa, and combined so efficiently that there were no flaws in the texture.
He placed another, larger slice to his lips, and kissed the frosting, swirling his tongue over the carefully crafted yellow frosting of the rose petals, licking until he reduced them to naught, and brushed his cheek over it, smearing some on his face. He continued to lap at the frosting, savoring the taste and feel of it, occasionally dragging a finger through it to lick and suck at.
When the frosting on the slice had been consumed, he brought the chocolate confection to his nose, and inhaled its delicious scent.
He placed the edge of the cake between his lips, and placed a kiss upon it, before beginning to tear it apart with his teeth, taking care to swirl his tongue around every bite and taste the cake as much as possible.
As the last of the cake disappeared between his lips, he let out a quiet, but audible moan.
As he debated on whether to save the rest for later or go all out, Gilbert entered the dining room, impolite as ever.
"Hey Spe—is that cake? Sweet!" he cried out, grabbing a fork and helping himself to a rather large slice.
He ate it hastily and recklessly, to Roderich's dismay, not taking the time to truly appreciate it.
Roderich merely scoffed at this, and removed the cake from the table, to get it away from that brute.
In all of his frustration, he failed to notice the redness of the Prussian's cheeks, or his rather tight pants; nor did he notice the video camera sitting in the container the cake had came in.
He seemed rather clueless until he heard Gilbert's remark, "Oi Specks, mind trying my five meters? I bet it tastes much better than some lousy cake West made!"