Day 54 – Hate

Warnings for good old American profanity (he gets really nasty), and references to PruLiech sexy times. Special guest appearance of Denmark and Iceland for wicked-midnight 25. Find out below how to get your favorite pairing a "walk-on part"!

"She might be loud, obnoxious, and too tan, but my little girl New Jersey can cook!" Alfred Jones exclaimed as he bit into a pork roll, cheese, and egg sandwich.1 He pushed a plate of disco fries towards his brother Canada. "Help yourself, bro'."2 Matthew Williams shook his head politely and ate another bite of blueberry pancakes. The two nations were in a diner in New Jersey, enjoying a late breakfast before they headed out to Newark Liberty International airport and their flight to October's World Meeting in Berlin.

Matthew checked his smart phone while his brother munched and mumbled away. Even though he was still annoyed at Prussia for hitting him in public, he liked to follow his ex-boyfriend's blog for the gossip.3 Hmmm, something about tomato-beer cocktails; he'd figure out the references later. Maybe the comments could clarify things. "Oh, maple!" He exclaimed.

"What?" Alfred asked with a mouthful of pork roll sandwich.

"Listen to this comment on Bielschmidt's blog." Matthew read. "'Hey, Gil, enjoy your time in Liechtenstein? Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.' " Alfred stopped chewing. "That one's anonymous, but here's another one: 'Is it true about you and Lili? Awww, I'm so happy for you two, East Germany!' Poor Ukraine! Not the sharpest knife in the drawer, eh?"

No reply from Alfred. Matthew looked up from his phone cautiously. His normally cheerful brother was glaring into the distance. "That bitch," he muttered to himself,"that little bitch."

"Uh, Alfred, are you okay?" Matthew knew when his brother started cursing that things were going to get ugly.

"Hell, no, bro." Alfred stood up and threw a twenty-dollar bill down on the table. "I'm not going to be okay until we're in fucking Berlin."

"Oh maple," Matthew sighed. It was going to a very long, booze-filled flight.


Lili lay in Gilbert's arms, studying his room. "Welcome to das Neue Preußen," he had laughed when he brought her downstairs to the basement. She hadn't been too surprised by the neatness, but it was the sparseness that saddened her a little. There was a portrait of Friedrich Groß, which Gilbert had thoughtfully turned to the wall before they began to make love. Two Prussian flags, one from the Kingdom of Prussia and one from the Freistaat of the 1920s, hung like a headboard behind them. A table served as a nightstand with a lamp, an old clock/radio, his laptop, and a pair of reading glasses. A nineteenth-century map of the Kingdom of Prussia hung over a plain desk and chair flanked by cheap IKEA bookshelves groaning under books and differently bound journals. Then there was a utilitarian wardrobe with a couple of drawers for his clothes. There wasn't a television or iPod or speakers, or even a mirror; she assumed he used the bathroom upstairs. He deserves better, she thought, remembering the expensive collection of antiques and luxurious modern furniture in Ludwig's house.

Gilbert looked down at her, his eyes the deep burgundy they always were after sex. Lili smiled up at him, caressing his cheek. He is so handsome, she thought,so fierce and then so surprisingly gentle. This time, they had agreed to vanilla sex, since they didn't have the time nor the appetite for harder games.4 Now that they were no longer a secret, she let him suck and nip her neck, swooning under his mouth's pressure. She had rolled under him, growling as he had teased her with alternating shallow and deep thrusts until she had screamed out his name and set Ludwig's dogs barking at the basement door. And now here they were, dozing and cuddling in the late afternoon, while other nations reluctantly dragged themselves back to the meeting. Lili felt very relaxed and very naughty.

"I wonder what other nations are saying about us," Gilbert mused. Lili recalled the different expressions as they had walked off to lunch. She had never seen that old libertine France look so shocked before, and Poland looked like he was ready to burst into laughter. She knew Vash would look displeased, but Hungary's cold look had really hurt her. Why should she be that way? Lili thought, she had Austria and was always talking about how considerate and caring he was. Lili wondered what Austria thought about their relationship; he had practically raised her and she found herself wanting his approval almost as much as Vash's.5

"I guess I'll find out tonight," she sighed. She had dinner plans with Austria, Hungary, Switzerland, and Poland; she was suspicious as to why Vash had suddenly taken to associating with Feliks. Considering that nation's rocky history with Prussia, she didn't expect an innocent reason. "I wish you were coming with me, Liebling," she murmured.

"Ja, but I had already made plans with Denmark and the United States to go drinking." Gilbert kissed her and pulled her to rest on top of him. "Tomorrow, you must stay for dinner here," he said, wiggling her on top of him; she could feel him getting aroused again and she wiggled harder. "Feliciano is cooking!"

"Pasta-a-a-a!" They cried together and their laughter eventually turned into contented sighs and moans.


Gilbert, Denmark and Iceland waited at the beer garden. Normally the United States was on time, but he had not called or texted anyone. "Maybe it's traffic?" Matthias said hopefully. Gilbert shrugged. He wasn't going to let Alfred's tardiness spoil his mood. He turned to Iceland. "Having fun, Emil?" He asked.

"No." The young pale ash-blond nation said. He held a beer and moved his body to the thumping beat of the music. "I thought we were going dancing." He focused his pale violet eyes accusingly on Denmark.

"We will!" Denmark said cheerfully. "We'll go after the United States shows up, I promise, Lillebror."6

"Ég er ekki litli bróðir þinn," Iceland muttered.7 "This techno music sucks." Denmark shrugged and went back to the bar to get another round of beer. Emil looked coolly at Gilbert until he started to feel uncomfortable. Denmark aside, he had always found the Nordics to be a rather unnerving group of nations. He also didn't like Iceland's dismissal of his city's famous night life.

"Let's find some clubs in Berlin with awesome techno music then, and when Alfred gets here, we'll head out for them," Gilbert sighed. He took out his phone and got on the internet. "Ja, techno dance clubs Berlin—"

Emil flinched. A large American Bowie knife had just whistled through the air and stabbed the wooden table. It was just inches from Gilbert's stomach. "Scheiße!" He hissed.

"You." A low poisonous voice in American English hissed through the air. "You goddamned motherfucking bastard." Gilbert and Iceland turned and saw the United States glaring at them. He slowly swayed over, a large bottle of tequila in one hand. His normally carefree features were in a hardened sneer. "You fucking commie kraut, I oughtta slit your smirking throat from ear to goddamned ear." Alfred Jones pulled the knife out of the table and waved it in Gilbert's face.

"What the hell is your problem?" Gilbert hated backing away from a fight, but he had no weapon. Then he recalled the beer bottle and smashed it against the table. He held the jagged edges up to ward off America's knife. "What are you so pissed about?" He scanned the immediate area for defensive sites and potential weaponry. To his great annoyance, Iceland watched them as if they were an interesting television show.

"Don't play dumb with me, asshole," America slurred. He circled the table, Gilbert keeping at least a meter between them. "You took her from me, you commie motherfucker. All that innocent shit in Prague was a fucking lie, wasn't it?"

"Oh, you mean Lili? How zum Teufel did you find out?" Gilbert grabbed another empty beer bottle from the table as a reserve. He didn't remember the United States being at the world meeting earlier today.

Alfred laughed joylessly. "It's all over your goddamned blog, asshole. " Gilbert was confused. He hadn't checked his blog since earlier in the day, and he had said nothing about him and Liechtenstein. Alfred took a swallow from his tequila bottle. "Look at you, trying to come up with another lie, you lying sack of German shit," he snarled. "You're the reason she turned me down, right? AM I RIGHT!" He lunged forward and caused Gilbert to fall back onto the table. Gilbert kicked America in the chin and the other nation cursed incoherently with rage. Suddenly he rammed his knife into the inseam of Gilbert's jeans, pinning him to the table. Gilbert cursed and clawed as Alfred grabbed him by the throat. He tried to smash both beer bottles over Alfred 's head, but the United States dodged the blows and poured tequila all over his face. Gilbert spluttered and hissed, blinded and disgusted by the cheap version of a liquor he never liked. He grabbed at Alfred's throat, blinking and looking frantically for Iceland. Verdammt coward, he thought, where is he? Where's Denmark when you need him?

"You pathetic piece of shit," Alfred growled, punching Gilbert in the face. "I should have told Ivan in '47, no dice, you were going to hang that day." Another ringing blow. Gilbert threw a punch at Alfred and connected with his mouth. The United States screamed, "Fuck! My tongue!" He slammed Gilbert's head against the table, making him see stars. "All this time I thought she was just some crazy-ass Lolita with a brother-complex." The United States had pinned Gilbert's fists to the table. Waves of tequila rolled off his breath. "Now I see she was too busy fucking you, you bastard, you goddamned nobody. That deceitful little cunt—"

Gilbert had had it. He slammed his forehead into the bridge of Alfred's nose, causing the other nation to scream incoherent English obscenities. He freed his hands and connected with America's stomach and crotch. He yanked at the Bowie knife and lunged at Alfred, sending him whirling into a crowd of astounded German mortals.

Suddenly he felt himself picked up by the collar and thrown against a wall. When he shook himself, he found a grinning Denmark gripping his throat and with a cocked fist in front of him. "Fantastik! En kamp!" 8

"Matthias, this isn't fun time. Alfred's trying to kill me!" Over his shoulder, Gilbert saw the United States shaking off a cluster of agitated Berliners.

"Why?" Denmark cocked his head.

Gilbert sighed. Where to begin? "Because he thinks I stole Liechtenstein from him."

The Danish nation's blue eyes widened."Did you?" His fist still hovered expectantly.

"Nein. We were already seeing each other before he showed up." Gilbert squirmed; he didn't like how determined the drunken Alfred looked as he gained his balance and lurched towards them.

"D'you love her?" Denmark asked.

What a stupid question to ask just now! "Ja!" Gilbert said, keeping an eye on the United States's grim approach.

"She love you?"

"Ja!" Gilbert gulped with adrenaline racing through his body. "And he's still mad, Matthias!"

Denmark dropped him and spun around. "Hey USA! Iceland!" He picked up a chair and smashed it over Alfred's head. The nation staggered and sunk to his knees. Iceland showed up behind him and smashed another chair over America's head. Alfred groaned and sprawled face forward on the beer garden patio as mortals backed away and got on their cell phones.

"Come on, ven."9 Denmark said as he pulled Gilbert by the arm, smiling the same sunny smile that had charmed the notoriously icy Belarus at last year's Halloween party. "Let's get out of here."


"She's adorable," Gilbert rambled. He was vaguely aware of being in a hotel suite with Denmark and Iceland. They were sitting in the living room area, several empty beer bottles and a half-full bottle of akvavit on a table between him and Denmark. 10 He had never felt so loose and relaxed before; it was like his face was sliding off. Denmark sat across from him, bright kind blue eyes riveted on everything he said. At last, Gilbert thought to himself, someone who wanted to hear about the awesomeness of Lili and who wasn't calling him an idiot or judging them.

"Y'know the BBC show Sherlock?"Gilbert slurred, taking another shot of akvavit. Denmark nodded attentively. "Y'know how all the fangirlies say whassisface, the Brit who plays Wilson—"

"Watson!" Iceland called from the kitchenette area. Gilbert could smell strong Scandinavian coffee brewing.

"Ja, that guy," Gilbert mumbled. "Y'know how they say he's made of jam, kittens and rage?" Denmark nodded. Gilbert slammed his shot glass on the table. "He's not!" He shouted. "That's Lili. 'Cept she's better than that. She's made of fluffy Pom'ranian puppies—d'you know I used to own Pomerania? That verdammt Feliks stole it—"

"Lili's made of Pomeranian puppies, and-?" Denmark gently coaxed.

"Ja." Gilbert belched. Hmmm, he tasted caraway seed. "Pom puppies, lethal weaponry," he mused, "Stollen, nein, chocolate, ja, chocolate with candied violets. Mein Gott," he gasped, leaning over the table and grabbing Denmark's shoulders. "She tastes soooo good, Matthias! It's like licking up a spring day in the Alps, I'm telling you. Violets, chamomile, edelweiss, candied rose petals—"

"That's when you kiss her?" Denmark tried to look as innocent as possible.

"Kiss her where!" Gilbert winked at Matthias. "Y'know what I mean, ja? Kesesese!" He leaned against the Danish nation's broad chest. Ach, he loved Denmark; he got him away from that crazy America, he wanted to hear all about how he loved Lili, how sweet she was, how sexy she was, how—-

"You've had enough." The high, clear voice of Iceland interrupted Gilbert's reverie. "And don't encourage him for more details, Matthias, you perv." Denmark looked disappointed. Emil came over and gently but firmly pushed Gilbert into a reclining position on the couch. He made sure he was lying on his side and a wastebasket was near his head. Gilbert suddenly felt sleepy. He saw a slight blonde figure hovering over him with a blanket. "Lili?" He mumbled.

"No, Iceland." The heavily accented German drifted into his head, along with waves of nausea and a spinning room. Gilbert closed his eyes to stop the spinning and soon was drooling on the couch.

I'm originally from New Jersey, so I had to give a shout-out to my home state. Anyway, if you'd like to see one of your favorite pairings appear, leave a review (be interesting and be specific: "You're awesome" or "You suck" are not enough; you need to specify what you find awesome or suckish about this story or the characters to qualify) and if we end up having an interesting PM convo, I'll find out whom you'd like to see make a guest appearance. It can be M/M, M/F, F/F, friendly or romantic. I just won't do a hardcore sex scene (I reserve those for Gilbert and Lili) nor any pairing that disrupts the basic flow of the plot (Sorry, PruHun or SwissLiet shippers). Let me know what you think of Denmark and Iceland, America's potty mouth, Gilbert's drunken rambling, or my so unawesome multilingual skills. Enjoy!


1 Pork roll, also known as Taylor ham, is a delicious sweet-salty pork product that is unique to the state of New Jersey.

2 Disco fries are another New Jersey specialty. Basically French fries topped with brown gravy and melted cheddar cheese. The name dates from the 1970s, when New Jerseyans would stop at a diner on their way back from disco dancing in New York City clubs and need something starchy to soak up the alcohol.

3 See PruLiech 100 Day Challenge: Maiden and Unicorn, Chpt 11, "Someone's Hero"

4 "vanilla" a term from the BDSM community that means good ol' plain sex without the pain and/or power dynamic. And seriously, can you blame these two after what happened in Chpt 49, "Don't Hit Me!"?

5 See PruLiech 100 Day Challenge: Maiden and Unicorn, Chpt. 16 "Childhood Memories"

6 Danish: little brother

7 Icelandic: I'm not your little brother

8 Danish: Great! A fight!

9 Danish: friend

10 Danish: aquavit, a strong, flavored clear liquor favored by Scandinavians.