"I'll be there in five minutes! The bus was late, and the traffic was a nightmare, and generally it's totally not my fault!"

Yeah, right. Feliks left his apartment twenty minutes too late, because he couldn't decide wether he wanted to wear the baby pink shirt or the green shirt. He was obviously going to go with the pink one all along, 'cause it was way too fab not too, but he needed at least fifteen minutes of staring at both of them to feel absolutely certain. Because he definitely wasn't freaking out… but he was kind of freaking out. Today was the lucky day Feliks Łukasiewicz would try to befriend his boyfriends flatmates. And both of them were totally bat-shit crazy.

He jumped over a puddle which was blocking his way to the door and pressed number seventeen on the intercom. After five seconds someone picked up, and he sighed with relief, recognising Gilbert's voice.

"The fabulous has arrived! Let me in, peasant."

"Finally! Did you take a plane to get here? Because only going through customs could explain you being this late."

"Shut up and let me in Gil, it's raining."

"Fine, fine"

A loud beep indicated that Gilbert did in fact open the door for him. Feliks gave it a forceful jerk and made his way up the stairs. No lift - yeah, definitely a place for university students. As he made his way to the third floor his brain started doing that infuriating thing again.

What if they don't like you?

I don't care.

What if they laugh at you?

I'll hand their asses back to them.

What if Gilbert stops hanging out with you because he thinks they're cooler…?

Oh my God. I. Don't. Care. Shut up.

The blonde actually slapped himself on the forehead. And almost climbed one flight of stairs unnecessarily, before realising he was actually already on the third floor. Shaking his head at his own stupidity, Feliks knocked on the door which he deduced to be the right one, despite it having no indication of it's number whatsoever.

"Ah, you made it upstairs. Congrats. Come in." Feliks did as told, giving Gilbert a peck on the lips as soon as he crossed the threshold (there's no being too careful with these things). He quickly took off his shoes while Gil very gentlemanly took his coat.

"Thanks. So, where are the other loonies?"

"Hey, be nice! Francis is in the kitchen making some french dish I can't pronounce, and I think Toni's on the phone. Did you get the wine?"

"Are you blind? What is it I'm holding?"

"Right. You might want to relax a bit, Liebe. You're sweating."

"No, I'm not. I just walked three flights of stairs. Shut up."

Gilbert just grinned and pointed him the way to the kitchen. Feliks huffed and followed the infuriating git.

The flat was slightly bigger than he expocted it to be. It actually had a hallway and each one of it's occupants had his own bedroom. To get to the kitchen they had to walk through the living room, which also doubled as a dining room. Feliks took a second to admire the subtle, homey decor, and noted that whoever took care of the interior design was definitely not Gilbert. He could tell by the general lack of weirdness (or "awesomeness", in Gilbert-speak) the albino seemed to bring into everything he put his hands to.

As soon as they entered the kitchen Feliks could tell that Francis was a good cook. Nothing that smelled this good could taste any worse. He breathed in the scent and smiled to himself.

"Hey, Franny, our guest has arrived. How's the dinner going?"

"Wonderful! It's going to be ready in ten minutes. Did you set the table?"

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "Yes, mum."

"Bon. Oh, and hello Feliks. We haven't seen each other in quite a while" Francis smiled at the younger man.

"Yeah, I guess. What have you beed up to?"

"Nothing much, really. I'm finishing my course at university this year, and I'm thinking of going back to France after that, at least for a while."

"And I'm telling him he'll die of boredom if he does" Gilbert threw in with a smirk. Francis turned back to the stove, smiling as well. "Oui, perhaps you're right. It it just a thought, I'm going to let it breathe, so to speak"

"Well, you let it breathe, and we'll go get Toni, alright?"

"Yes, do that, I'm nearly done with everything here"

They went back to the hallway and stopped in front of one of the doors. The albino gave it a rhythmic knock and called out "Toni? Hey, buddy, the food's ready! Get your butt out here!"

They heard a bunch of muffled noises in return, looked at each other briefly, and Gilbert just pressed down on the door handle.

"I'm coming in, so I hope you're not jerking off or anything." Feliks rolled his eyes at his boyfriends bluntness.

Antonio was, fortunately, fully dressed and sat on his bed with the telephone pressed to his ear.

"I have to go Lovi, Gilbert… Yes, sorry, Lovino. Okay. I'll call you tomorrow. Or a little later today… Okay, I won't call you today. But I'll see you around christmas, right? Great! Love you!" he put the phone back in his pocket and smiled at the pair apologetically. "Sorry about that, Lovi is on an exchange program in America. I miss him a lot. He's supposed to come back for the holidays though."

"Lovino Vargas? As in Feliciano's brother?" Feliks asked, slightly confused.

"Yes, that's him! Why, do you know him well?"

"No, it's just that… Nevermind. I swear all the people around you are like some kind of a mafia, Gil. Was I the only one left out of the weird inner circle?"

"Don't be stupid, it's just a coincidence. Now, Toni, are you ready to eat? Franny's almost done."

"Oh, yes, I'll be right there."

"Yeah, whatever, just don't call him again, he might actually try to kill you"

"I won't. But also, he's in America, Gil. It would be very difficult for him."

"Maybe. But you have to remember, he does have a family in Sicily… Just saying…" Antonio just laughed at that. "You realise not everyone from Sicily is in the Mafia, right?"

"Maybe not everyone. One can't be too careful though."

The pointless and, in Feliks' opinion ridiculous musings over the Vargas connections with the Mafia were interrupted with a melodic and heavily accented voice from the living room. "Booooys! Dinner's ready!"


"No way!"

"Oui way. He really is sort of charming in person…"

"Meaning a dick, right? He is a complete dick in person?"

"…Well, yes, a little. But his talent…"

"Oh yes, totally, he's a genius. But you can tell from the way he talks about his models on TV that he's an obnoxious jerk."

"Oh mien Gott, seriously!? You've been talking about this guy with a weird last name for twenty minutes now! How long can you go on about someone who makes clothes for a living! My grandma used to make clothes for a living!" Gilbert downed his third glass of wine, obviously annoyed that there wasn't any more for him to kill the time while his boyfriend and his flatmate unbelievably still discussed fashion designers.

"Hey, piss off, prussian plague, you wanted us to get along - we're getting along."

Francis chuckled at the nickname. "You certainly have an imaginative way of referring to Gilbert."

"He hasn't really let go of the whole partitions thing. Like most of his nation"

"But I can't help but notice that you are not prussian. In fact, nobody's prussian. At least not anymore."

Feliks shrugged. "German, prussian, same difference. Plus, I like alliteration."

"Ah."

"I think it's cute. It's like you private little thing, you know?" Antonio chipped in.

"Toni, you think everything's cute" Gilbert pointed out

"Well, a lot of things are cute…"

"That might be true, however I don't thing a prussian plague is one of those things" Francis suggested, taking a sip from his glass.

"How do you know? Have you ever seen one?"

Feliks widened his eyes. Did he really just say that? How old was this guy, five? But what surprised him even more was the lack of reaction from the other two. Gilbert just looked at the spaniard and Francis gave him a nod.

A nod.

"Alright, you have a point, I haven't. A prussian plague could potentially be cute. It is suggested by it's name that it isn't though."

"I never even said I thought a prussian plague was cute. I think the fact Feliks calls Gil 'prussian plague' is cute. I think it's original and means he cares about him, actually."

Feliks tried really hard to hide the mad blush that appeared on his face, but it proved very difficult without anything to actually cover his face. Also, it turned out that whilst diving under the table to retrieve a fork you've "accidentally" dropped, you should really be careful and avoid hitting your head on the table, because it hurts like a bitch.


"It wasn't bad, was it?"

Gilbert handed Feliks his coat. The blonde put it on, but decided not to button it yet - walking down the stairs would make him sweaty again.

"Surprisingly, it really wasn't. Francis' less pervy than I remember, and Antonio is… Well, Antonio. There are really no other words to describe him, are there?"

"Nope. But he's a really good friend."

"Yeah, I can kind of see that… In a slightly autistic sort of way…Not that there's anything wrong with that" Feliks defended himself immediately.

"Yeah, I see what you mean. Anyway, I'm glad you got along. It really does mean a lot to me. Thanks."

"Sure, no problem. Are we sill up for tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

"Well, see you tomorrow then." He stood on his tiptoes and tried to give Gilbert a peck on the mouth, but was met with a hand at the back of his neck, preventing him from pulling away, and a tongue caressing his lower lip. He kissed back, although not without a roll of his eyes.

"Greedy bastard."

"You know I am" Gilbert grinned at him and opened the door. "Text me when you get home."

he rolled his eyes again. "Gil, nobody's going to kidnap me, we're in the middle of the city and it eight p.m."

"I know. Text me anyway."

"Fine. Bye. Don't have a heart attack if I forget."

"I'll try." With that he closed the door behind his boyfriend and made his way back to the living room. Antonio has returned to his bedroom, but Francis was still sat at the table.

"I've noticed you're relationship with Feliks is one of a… unusual nature."

Gilbert rolled his eyes at that, cleaning his plate with a piece of bread and taking a bite. "You're one to talk. You and Arthur are at each others throats all the time."

"Ah, but it makes the sex that much better"

The albino continued stuffing his face with bread and started laughing at the same time, which caused him to turn a very interesting shade of pink.

"In all seriousness though, I really do think he's good for you. Not too sweet, but not too sour. Perhaps just what you need."

Gilbert finally swallowed the concoction in him mouth. "Yeah, I think so. It's just… Different than it was with anyone else, you know?"

Francis chuckled and started piling the dishes to take them to the kitchen. "Oui, I know, mon ami. I know perfectly well."


A/N:

Well, here it is, second and last instalment of my PrusPol extravaganza. Like it? Hate it? Let me know!

I feel like a couple of things need an explanation, so just to have a peace of mind, here you go:

*the kissing over the threshold - it's a superstition in Poland that you shouldn't kiss or shake hands over a threshold (bad luck). I don't know if it's exclusively polish, but here you go.

*in my brain Francis studies fashion (I'm not sure in what form), and also works as a model, hence he had the chance to meet a awfully famous designer. I wasn't sure if that was clear.

Forgive me for any mistakes, and please point them out. It's late, but I wanted to finish this tonight, as I'll possibly have a busy day tomorrow.