AN/ Another related Ludwig/Veneziano drabble to add to this small series.
Disclaimer: whilst I play with the history of certain named countries, the characterisation and reactions of these characters are taken out of context. My aim is to play with the impact changes in relationships or situation on man. Further, the characters themselves belong to Hetalia.
Plateau
As Veneziano looked up Ludwig raised his gun, slanting the muffle so that it was pointed straight at him.
They'd reached a plateau in the steps of an earthy staircase hewn through the plains of Tuscany when he froze. The steel of the muzzle glinting as Ludwig had pulled it out of his jacket, he'd raised it, reflecting the warm light of the late summer into the eyes of Veneziano before it was raised level to him. Their pants of the past couple hours excursion filled the hot air of the clearing, weighed down by the overbearing humidity. There were signs of strain in the other man as his grip trembled lightly around the weapon. But that didn't mean Veneziano understood the reason behind the gun. Ludwig had agreed to come, hadn't he? There was no reason for this-
"...hasshf. Veneziano." He looked up at the sound of his name, before he realised the other man had been speaking. He managed to catch his companions gaze, opening his mouth to ask the question- before the intensity of the eyes shocked him into silence. After a second, he moved his eyes back to the black pit of the chamber, light hazel wavering slightly as it followed the light in as far as it would go.
"...What is this, Ludwig?" The other didn't respond immediately, his tired eyes scanning the surrounding clearing before finally meeting the gaze of the Italian with his own.
"Quiet."
Veneziano didn't move his eyes from the pistol chamber, breath speeding up into a light pant. The other man's focus never wavered as he turned his head slowly, scanning the clearing in the half light. After a minute, he opened his mouth, gaze refocusing on the Italian- before his eyes narrowed, hand holding the gun swinging up, as his finger squeezed down on the trigger-
"Get down, Veneziano!"
Bang.
The whistle of the bullet went over his head, meeting with an odd curse from behind him, and with a sharp intake of breath, he turned, eyes widening as he met a pale olive gaze. There was a muffled 'fuck', before the man before him tried to get to his feet, teeth gritting as he grasped a spreading patch of red on his shoulder, before the German was on top of him, wrestling the rifle from his grasp.
"Idiot, Arthur!" He pulled back quickly to avoid the responding fist, catching it and pulling it back behind the mans back as he ignored the repeated 'fuck' and managed to catch him in a headlock, gun pressed against his temple. "I'd stop if you want to keep your head. Veneziano; are you hurt?"
The Italian was frozen, staring at the ground, before suddenly he was on his feet and leaping at the German, arms wrapping around his waist in a tight grip. Ludwig fell back with the momentum, landing on the British man, and hitting him around the head with his muffled 'fuck!', before he grasped at the Italian, leveraging him off until he could see his face. "Veneziano? What is it? Are you hurt?"
There was a moment of silence, before Veneziano seemed to grin, blinking repeatedly before he turned his face away. "Not at all, Ludwig. Just the opposite, actually. I'm just happy we're allies~ vee!" He ignored the quiet 'what?' from his companion as he buried his face deeper into his chest, fingers sinking into the tightly woven cloth. After a second, with a muffled statement he couldn't hear, the German returned the gesture, the hot air of the man's breath brushing against his ear.
"Of course we're allies, Veneziano." He closed his eyes, resting his head against his friends.