Note: This is a flash back to before Austria ended up as a child.
This chapter is Austra x France :3
Enjoy!

Chapter 1

He listened to the notes as his fingers rolled over the keys. The hot lights on his back, the sound of the music ringing off the walls. The feeling of the eyes on him as he played quickly but keeping the tempo. He swayed with the music, his heart becoming the song. He swayed as if the sound itself were the wind and he was but a helpless red ribbon in it's gentle caress, left to it's mercy. Coming to an end he stopped. It was silent for a moment then a round of applause echoed off of the walls. With his performance, he felt as if that breeze had stopped blowing and his ribbon were left to dangle wind whipped in the sun.

Standing he stepped from behind his piano and walked to the front of the stage, bowing. The feeling of the eyes on him burning satisfyingly through his blood. But alas, he must leave, it was the end of his proud moment and to milk the applause for too long would be greedy.

Leaving the stage he grabbed his Pea coat and headed for the door as the theater started to vacate. He headed out and waited for his ride, the chill in the air nipping at him. Bundling up he leaned against the pillar out front, watching as the people, the families left through the front door. It was Christmas time. Seeing all the smiling faces of the people as they left made him feel warm inside. It wasn't pride he felt on stage at his flawless performance, but the fact that he, with his concert had made it possible for all of these families to be together, to feel the love of simple things. So naturally, this was a free concert. Donations were accepted though.

He often thought about it. His own child hood when it came to times like this. How he was never able to experience this sort of love. It made him almost sad to see it in other families. Loving mother, loving father, brothers and sisters all smiling and loving each other. And then there was him. And just like every other Christmas. He was alone.

The snow started to fall, covering the ground. Closing his eyes he let it fall around him, and pile up on his shoulders, the cold feeling like nothing to him. It was the silence that hurt him the most. Pushing away from the pillar he began walking. He remembered this feeling. Walking alone. He did it every year. And every year he would do the same thing. Go home and do as he just did now. Play the piano.

He admitted it. The piano, the only one who would hear him. The only one that would feel what he felt. And somehow, his sorrow to him, sounded so beautiful. Yet again, who's sorrow didn't sound beautiful when it was translated through the Ivory and Ebony Keys of a grand piano. But for some reason, he wished that this Christmas he didn't have to spend it alone.

Pulling up beside him a limo stopped. Curious Roderich turned and leaned down to see who it was. Slowly the window rolled down and gazing into his eyes were the very eyes of a man he had hated for a long time. He stood up straight. "Guten abend, Francis." He greeted.

"Bonjour, Roderich. It was a wonderful concert you had." He replied, he smiled gently. "Somehow it seemed sad, but it was beautiful, none-the-less." Roderich nodded slowly.

"I thank you for your positive criticism, Francis." He replied, a slight smile on his face. Even France thought it was nice, how lovely.

"It's cold out there, where is your ride? You're not walking home are you?" Francis looked at him concerned. Roderich looked away, his eyes traveling down the dark road, snow coming down in a nice thick drift.

"I don't have one. I am used to walking in such cold." He looked down. His own words surprised even him. He was so soft right now. So fragile.

"Share a ride with me." He looked up shocked in time to see the door open. The Frenchman stepped out, dressed in a formal suit.

"Excuse me?" He looked at him shocked. Francis ushered him into the back of the limo. "I don't want to be a burden." He added carefully sitting down, holding the Frenchman's hand.

"You're no burden to me, mon ami." He smiled and carefully shut the door. Roderich sat back, thinking to himself. It felt stuffy in the limo, as if his very lonesome thoughts were suffocating him. He closed his eyes as the Limo shifted, a door closing. He heard a piano piece, but the composition he didn't know. That was a shock. A classical, soft piano piece that he didn't know?

"This music," Roderich opened his eyes again. "Who plays this?" He questioned.

"Oh, this?" Francis smiled knowing the Austrian would have noticed. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, listening as well. "This is Yiruma. He's a pretty recent pianist."

"Yiruma." Roderich repeated, his eyes closed. "It's beautiful, and simple. So much emotion." Francis stared at him as the limo traveled. The light from the moon reflected the delicate smile on the Austrian's face, illuminating his lips. He was such a beautiful man. Absolutely gorgeous. Francis, just wanted to kiss him right there but held back.

"What are you doing for Christmas, mon ami?" He asked, pouring a glass of wine from the partially opened bottle he had in the back, handing one glass to Roderich. The Austrian looked at it questioningly, and hesitated, but took it in the end.

"What I'm doing now." He replied softly, looking into the fizzing yellow liquid. "Looking into the bottom of a glass of alcohol listening to the piano's sweet singing." he sipped his wine.

"That's a sad way to spend Christmas." Francis frowned looking at him. "Why not spend it with some friends?" Roderich smiled, shaking his head.

"Friends. What friends do I have to spend with?" He whispered. Francis shook his head, his eyebrows furrowing.

"What about Ludwig?" Roderich shook his head.

"He has his own Christmas preparations he deals with. Being with Feliciano.

"Vash?"

"I can't intrude on his Christmas with Lilly." Francis stopped.

"Elizaveta? Surely she'll spend the holiday's with you." Roderich smiled and shook his head.

"Her Christmas's are spent with Belgium, Ludwig or Vash." It was silent, the piano music still playing in the background. For some reason, this sort of conversation wouldn't affect him so much, but what was it that made him feel like crying? He listened, feeling the music speaking to his heart, and he knew it. He was the lonely piano, separated from the rest of the orchestra. Left to belt out how he felt all alone, wondering if his words would fall on the ears of those he was surrounded by, or just fall straight to the hard earth of the stage.

"Then spend Christmas with me." Roderich looked up shocked. Leaning over Francis pressed his lips to the Austrian's. Roderich pulled away shocked.

"F-Francis! What are you doing?" The Frenchman's hand cradled his face, and although he felt the flaming urge to slap his hand away -then add another slap across the frogs mug- he stopped, seeing the sadness in the Frenchman's eyes.

"Let's spend Christmas together." He leaned forward, pulling the Austrian to him. "I won't let you be lonely this year. I won't let you hurt this year." He kissed him again, his lips crushing the shocked and shaking Austrians once more. Feeling as if his heart were melting, Roderich leaned into the kiss, his fingers carefully sliding through the blonde hair.

Pulling to a stop Francis pulled away, pulling Roderich with him. They were at Francis's home. Leading him to the door Francis planted another kiss on the German speaking nations, pulling him into the warmth. With their lips still connected he shed out of his coat, then reaching forward to pull the pea coat from Roderich's shoulders, his fingers caressing his neck and jaw.

Grabbing his hand he lead him through the lobby and to the stairs, leading him to the bedroom. Roderich wasn't sure of what he was doing, allowing Francis to take him like this, but he was ready for whatever it was they were going to do -or at least he hoped he was.

Pushing the door open to his room, Francis pulled the Austrian into his arms, crushing his lips with another kiss, hot arms wrapping around his waist. Roderich couldn't resist. The door was shut, darkness enveloping them. He hit the bed, hot hands rushing from his cheeks down his neck. Nimble fingers made quick work of his shirt, pulling it open. He gasped, his eyes looking at the Frenchman above him. His face was illuminated by the moon, his sincere, passion filled eyes sparkling like the snow outside. Thisman,wasmadeformomentslikethis. Roderich thought as the soft sparkling eyes above him closed, their owners lips soon buried into the soft flesh of his neck. Thisisthetypeofpersonthepianowasmadetodescribe.

Reaching up he unbuttoned Francis's shirt, pulling it off of him, the blonde not struggling against it. Moving fluidly to remove his shirt and make quick work on his pants. Francis moved so fluidly. So gracefully, and full of confidence, where as Roderich could feel himself quivering beneath him. He felt like a mouse under a cat, but the Frenchman didn't seem to criticize that. He didn't point it out like Hungary would have, or make him feel like he was a virgin. Although he was. In this kind of intimacy, he was Olive Oil virgin.

His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden blanket of cool air encasing his lower half. He shivered, his eyes closing. "Is it cold?" Francis asked, whispering lovingly in his ear. "I'll make it warmer in a second, the flames of passion will always win against a cold night." The bed shifted, and a candle was lit. After a few seconds of the wick burning, a soft cinnamon smell rolled through the house. Cinnamon and lilac. Two that Roderich never though could compliment each other.

Leaning over Francis pulled open a drawer next to the bed and removed a small pink bottle. He squirt a little in the palm of his hand and reached down in between his legs, slathering up his member -who Roderich was oblivious to it until now, the very presence of it making his cheeks burn with embarrassment. Putting a little more on his fingers he smiled at the Austrian and put the bottle down on the stand. Gently grabbing his legs he pushed them up, and with the goo covered fingers pressed them into the Austrian.

Roderich hissed, his breath hitching. Grabbing the sheets he arched his back, pain surging through his body. Francis waited, slowly starting to scissor and stretch him. When he was done, he removed his fingers and moved into place, pressing against his entrance. "Are you ready, mon amour?" he whispered, his voice making the heat inside of the Austrian increase -not to mention the pool of uneasiness. He didn't say anything, he just closed his eyes.

Taking this as a yes, Francis lightly start pushing in, ready to pull back when Roderich protested against it. Roderich gasped, gritting his teeth a bit. To ease this pain Francis leaned down, kissing his neck, rubbing his chest to make his mind focus on the pleasure rather than the pain. Waiting until he was used to it, he began to move, thrusting slowly, deeply.

Roderich gasped, wrapping his legs around the blonde, kissing back eagerly. He was wrapped in heat, and the smell of the candle pleased his senses, and the feeling. The pain and the pleasure. Somehow this seemed to make him more happy than the piano. This pleasure was deeper than the satisfaction he got from endless hours of playing. The candle flickered out having reached the end of it's wick, and they were left in darkness.

The moon shimmered again, leaving most of the room and the man ontop of him shrouded in darkness. But this added to the intensity. He panted as the Frenchman sped up. Before he knew it, there was a pounding noise. He half got irritated, wanting to bark out for whoever it was to stop, but when he looked he saw that it was the head board, smashing against the wall. His glasses were gone, and there were dark red scratches from the blonde above hims neck to his belly button. It almost looked like he was attacked by a lion, but the panting and the deep moaning confirmed that the scratches were caused by him.

When he had marked up the Frenchman -and ended up on his stomach with his ass in the air- was beyond him. But the tight embrace around his waist, the messy blankets, the chipping of the headboard and holes in the wall accompanied his pleasure until he broke.

Screaming he pushed back into Francis, his neck being devoured by kisses as his vision blurred white. All of the heat seemed to pool up in his head, rush through his veins, then leave out the front of him, spilling onto the red satin sheets. And from behind, the same physical form of passion spilling into him, filling up his stomach. He panted and collapsed, the Frenchman falling to the side, holding him tightly. His shoulders were smothered in kisses, and for the first time in a long time, he truly felt loved. Smiling Roderich closed his eyes, but something stopped him from falling asleep.

"We need to change the top sheet before it stains your mattress." he commented. Shifting France kicked the sheet off the bed and onto the floor.

"There, done." He replied smiling, rubbing his cheek against the Austrian's shoulder. Roderich sighed and shook his head.

"You're disgusting." Francis lifted his head to look at him, confused.

"Qu'avez-vous dit?" Rolling over in his arms Roderich smiled and cupped his face.

"Nothing." he kissed him. "Thank you, Francis. Thank you." Smiling the Frenchman held him tight, waiting for the Austrian to fall asleep. Happy that he was able to have this time with him.

In the morning Francis drove Roderich back home where Roderich and Francis worked together, making breakfast. The Austrian was in a better mood than most days, and Francis enjoyed it. He enjoyed seeing it. Although he did notice that Roderich made no indications that they had sex, he figured it was for the best. Elizaveta would have killed him if she figured out he had sex with her ex husband!

"Ja, I think this is going to be a good breakfast." Roderich smiled, cleaning up, putting the plates on the table.

"It looks delicious." Francis complimented sitting at the table as Roderich did. Just as the Austrian was about to take a bit, something smashed, making Francis jump. Roderich dropped his fork, his eye narrow. The sound of footsteps came from down the hall. Things smashing on the way. Standing Roderich quickly tied a rope to one of the posts leading out of the hallway and stood off to the side of the door way, waiting.

Right when a boot was visible, Roderich pulled the other end of the rope. Gilbert tripped on it, flying to the floor. Hitting the tiles he slid a little way and laid face down on the floor. "Guten Morgen, Gilbert." Roderich looked down at him. The Albino groaned and looked up, his nose bleeding.

"You tripped me! What the hell was that for Specs?" He snarled, sitting up. Roderich handed him a white hanky so he could stop the bleeding -he'd just bleach it after.

"Why do you insist to run through my house and destroy everything?" He questioned, looking at him unamused. "It gets expensive after a while Gilbert, and you know how I hate to have to keep buying things unnecessarily."

"Hey if I didn't make you spend your money your people would suffer! Don't be so greedy" Standing he brushed himself off and smiled, spotting Francis. "Hey! What are you doing here?" He questioned, walking over.

"Eating breakfast, obviously." Roderich answered for Francis, sitting down annoyed. It was silent. Francis ate carefully and Roderich ate as well. Gilbert stared them down, then looked at Roderich.

"You hate Francis. Why are you eating breakfast with him." Gilbert pried.

"None of your business."

"We spent Christmas together." Francis answered, smiling.

"You did? That's why you didn't come home Roddy," He snickered. "What were you doing?"

"None of your business." Roderich tried again.

"We got to know each other." Francis answered truthfully, proud.

"You two had sex?" Gilbert boomed. "Holy shit specs, I didn't know you were a little whore! Glutton for sex aren't we? Even on Christmas, and with your enemies no doubt!"

"It was so passionate last night. We broke the head board." Francis bragged. Their boasting and story telling was interrupted when Roderich slammed his hands on the table.

"He does not need to know what we do Francis!" Roderich screamed. His face was red, his eyes reflecting betrayal. "I trusted you with my very body and you run off at the mouth and tell everyone what you did with it! Foul, disgusting Frenchman! i want you out of my house! And you," He pointed at Gilbert. "You get out too." He stomped away from the table, throwing the handkerchief he had tucked in around his neck to the floor.

"Hey, Specs!" Gilbert followed him. "Why are you being such a tight ass about it!" Roderich turned on him and snarled.

"Why? Because for some reason I'm different than you Gilbert! I'm different from all of the nations! You, Ludwig, Francis, Antonio, Lovino, Feliciano, Elizaveta, Ivan, Alfred. All of you! I spend my time playing the piano while you all wage war on each other! I hold onto my money while you all spend your incessantly! I spend my Christmas alone while you all have someone to fucking talk to! And I guess when I get laid what we do is blabbed off while you all get your fucking privacy!" He blew up, his eyes watering. Gilbert for once, was speechless. Shaking his head Roderich shoved by him and opened the front door. "Get out." He pointed, his head hanging.

"Specs," Gilbert tried.

"Get out!" Roderich yelled it this time.

"Damn it specs would you just listen to me?"

"Get out right now Gilbert! No body gave a shit about being apart of my life before, no need to try now!" He shrieked. Gilbert stood there, then walked forward, leaving through the front door. Roderich slammed the door and headed back for the kitchen. He felt hurt. Betrayed. He wanted to beg Francis why he told Gilbert anything, but when he got to the kitchen, he saw it was empty. The back door unlocked. Wrapping his arms around himself he closed his eyes, feeling worse now than he did last night.

Leaning against the wall he began crying. Sliding so that he was sitting he curled up. It was the first time in a long time he'd experienced all that he'd felt within past 24 hours. Hesitance, pleasure, happiness, content, betrayal and now this over riding depression. He wasn't going to be trusting people for a long time.