[Posted: March 2, 2020]

Takes place in 1950, during the Cold War.
I rarely ever portray the violent side of this ship but I got an itch to write something new that's based on my headcanon for these two.

Content warning(s): Mention of violence. Unhealthy relationships. Bruises. Scratches/Cuts. Angst. Comfort


The tension was as high as usual during the meeting, and with the War ongoing, the air felt suffocating as well. Everyone was either too quiet or too talkative, kept to their corners, tried to play nice with old friends who were now enemies, or so their bosses told them they were, only to have it dissolve into awkward conversations of pity and regret.

On one side of the room near the end of the table, however, sat Gilbert Beilschmidt dressed in his usual suit. It was odd and a few people noticed, namely his brother, Ludwig, and a few of his friends from centuries past. Gilbert always wore a black suit with the jacket open and a white shirt with the top two buttons undone. Despite being a bit of a stickler for rules and presentation, he always appeared rather casual at meetings. This time, though, people noticed the change in his now fully buttoned-up shirt, closed jacket, and how he'd barely uttered a word all meeting.

When the meeting was finally over, a bit of that tension lifted and Gilbert took a deep breath, leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes. Just one more day of this and they could go home.

"Gilbert?" the voice was familiar to Gilbert. Ludwig, his brother, who despite the internal tension between them, kept a level head during the meeting and didn't falter at all. Gilbert was proud of him for that.

"Nice job keeping this bunch of crazies in check," Gilbert cracked a joke, though when he grinned his face twitched into a grimace for just a moment. Ludwig knew his brother and could tell that something was bothering him.

"You were quiet all meeting, and..." Ludwig took the chair beside his brother and leaned close. "You've been eyeing Ivan a lot. Did something happen?" he asked. Gilbert swallowed but then smiled brightly at the blond once again.

"Not at all, nothing new anyway. Just trying to read him." It wasn't entirely a lie. As Ludwig watched him, knowing there was only half a truth in his words, he studied the nearly healed bruise next to his mouth, and the bruised eye on the other side. As if being beaten was "nothing new."

"How'd you get those?" Ludwig asked although he didn't need to.

"I fell, " Gilbert answered but his voice made it sound like, "None of your business." Ludwig sighed at his brother's stubbornness, then poked his finger against the bruise. Gilbert immediately jerked away and grit his teeth at the sting of pain.

"Stop it!" Gilbert hissed quietly.

"Stop lying then. You can't tell me that this is okay. This was very recent and I'm worried."

As they had seen the interaction, a few of Gilbert's old friends — Francis, Antonio, and Feliciano — had wandered over. At first, they had carefree expressions, but they quickly turned concerned when they saw Gilbert holding his cheek.

"What's going on?" The always-chipper Italian spoke as he jumped up and sat on the table and swung his legs.

"Keep quiet," Ludwig told him and immediately he frowned, but he listened. Everyone huddled closer. "Gilbert won't tell me, but I think I already know." Ludwig grabbed Gilbert's wrist and pulled his hand away, showing the still healing bruise.

"Knock it off, it's nothing," Gilbert growled at all of them as they gasped and leaned in closer.

"He's beating you, isn't he?" Ludwig asked. It was barely a question and more of an accusation, one Gilbert couldn't fully deny.

"N-No, he's—" Gilbert tried to speak.

"Ivan's hurting you!?" Francis suddenly roared dramatically. "Why that—!"

"Shut up!" Gilbert snapped in a hush again. As a few of his friends began to badmouth and rant about things they knew nothing about, Gilbert glanced over to Ivan, who had still been sitting across the room alone until that moment. Ivan looked hurt, then stood up and headed for the door.

It hit him hard then. A realization of how hurt and alone Ivan must have felt, especially at that moment with everyone fawning over Gilbert like he was a victim being beaten by a big monster, always being made out to be the bad guy. Despite not being a nation anymore, Gilbert did have friends and family who loved him — something Ivan always seemed to lack. That look in his eyes just shot right through Gilbert's stubbornness and he realized that Ivan was suffering just as he was, but he was completely alone.

"I appreciate your concern but it's really nothing to worry about," Gilbert said and stood up. "I'm tired so I'm gonna skip drinks tonight, I'll see you all tomorrow."

.

Gilbert rushed out of the meeting hall quickly despite his friends and brother calling out to him. Once outside the room, he took another deep breath before wandering into the streets and visiting a nearby drug store, bought some supplies, and then headed back. Once he returned to the building, he made his way to the upper floors that made up a hotel. He remembered the room number easily, although even if he had forgotten it wouldn't have mattered since he'd written it down. Within a few minutes, he found himself outside the door and hesitating. Up until that point, he didn't question what he was doing at all, but the nerves tied in his stomach because it was a new situation and he didn't know how it would play out; he could think of a few ways it could end and it made him falter.

Finally, he knocked and then waited a few seconds before the door clicked as it unlocked, then opened. In the doorway there stood a stunned and tired-looking Ivan, lavender eyes wide and confused. His scarf was loose around his neck and his jacket undone — Gilbert assumed he was probably lying down in bed.

"Why are you here?" Ivan asked him. His tone was quiet but cold, distrusting of the other.

Gilbert hadn't expected that. Hadn't expected Ivan to ask him a question that he should have seen coming. Of course Ivan wanted to know why he was at his room — Gilbert rarely came to him, and when he did, there was always a reason. Ivan wanted to know if he was there to beat him down more or if there was something else.

"Don't make this harder for me. Move," Gilbert demanded and pushed into the room. Ivan stepped out of the way and then closed the door slowly. It was then that he noticed that Gilbert had a bag in his hand, which he then placed on the table in the room. "Sit on the bed," he instructed in that same stern voice but it was quieter; softer. Despite his confusion, Ivan sat and twiddled his thumbs anxiously.

So many thoughts went through Ivan's head. Why Gilbert was there? What he was planning. How did he feel about what happened earlier? He half expected Gilbert to punch him at any second, but then Gilbert turned to him and gripped his chin. Even though his actions felt brash and sudden, his fingers were surprisingly gentle and nothing felt rough, although Ivan still winced when he touched him.

"What...?" Ivan mumbled as Gilbert's studied him for too long. Even after all these years, he still couldn't read Gilbert's expression or what he was thinking, and those piercing pink eyes of his felt like they could cut right through him.

"The bruise is healing," Gilbert stated as his fingertips grazed a faint purple area of Ivan's cheek. Ivan turned his face away.

"I covered it with makeup," he said. "But I guess it came off..."

"And your lip?" Gilbert asked, eyes shifting to Ivan's mouth.

"It's...healing..." Ivan admitted and put a hand over his mouth. Gilbert sighed after a few seconds and then grabbed Ivan's wrist.

"Come on," he said and didn't give Ivan much of a choice as he dragged him to the hotel's bathroom.

Inside, Gilbert made Ivan sit on the toilet as he ran some warm water and retrieved some items from the bag. Looking over them, Ivan recognized them as a soothing ointment and some bandages. His heart fluttered as he realized what Gilbert was doing — It was the first time. Suddenly Gilbert turned and pulled Ivan's scarf off, then as he grabbed the jacket, Ivan grasped his wrists.

"What are you doing?" Ivan asked with his brows knitted tightly with uncertainty.

"Just shut up and let me do this!" Gilbert growled back and jerked his hands out of Ivan's, then proceeded to take Ivan's jacket off. Ivan gave in and let him, then afterward Gilbert unbuttoned Ivan's shirt. As he did, his stomach dropped with guilt.

They fell into silence as Gilbert washed the makeup from Ivan's cheek, then rubbed some of the ointment on his bruise. Ivan winced at the pain but Gilbert shushed him calmly as he continued, eventually moving down to his chest where more faded bruises were. He tended to them and also cleaned some scratches he'd left with warm water before putting bandages over them.

"I know you have more scratches on your arms so take your shirt off," Gilbert told him. Ivan clutched his shirt in his hands and held it.

"You don't have to do all this, Gilbert, it's okay. They've mostly healed anyway," he said. Gilbert growled under his breath but accepted it, leaning against the sink.

"I'm sorry," Gilbert apologized after a few minutes of silence.

"Don't," Ivan told him. "I deserved it."

"Damn right you did," Gilbert chuckled. "But...I deserved it too," he said as he rubbed his bruised cheek.

"Seems like we deserve each other," Ivan muttered and sighed, Gilbert stayed quiet but internally he agreed and in some twisted way it comforted him. Ivan looked at Gilbert and caught his gaze, pink eyes emotionless but seeking something. Ivan stood up and then gently cupped Gilbert's cheek. "I'm sorry about your eye," he apologized as he rubbed his thumb just under Gilbert's bruise. To his surprise, Gilbert leaned into his touch ever-so-slightly.

"You were just trying to calm me down, and besides, I already told you I deserved that punch," Gilbert replied.

"You can get pretty out of hand," Ivan joked softly with a smile. "Hey Gilbert... Can I kiss you?" he asked. Gilbert's eyes went wide then, several emotions surged through him since Ivan had never asked before. After a moment, he smiled into a chuckle.

"Glad you asked this time. And I promise not to bite again," Gilbert said and stepped closer. His lips gently kissed Ivan's; both of them winced softly as they both had bruises on their lips. Ivan pulled him close and kissed him back harder, making them each grunt, then stopped.

"I deserved it. All of it. I'm sorry," Ivan poured his guilt out to him, sounding so lost and confused and as if he would cry at any second. Gilbert cupped his cheek and rubbed his thumb against the bruise there.

"I threw the first punch, remember? I started it and I kept pushing you, and it wasn't the first time." Gilbert sighed and pet Ivan's hair. "You're not a monster, or...at least, you're not the only one." At that, Ivan tugged Gilbert closer and buried his face in his neck.

"I want to go home..." Ivan's voice came out muffled. Gilbert shushed him again and continued to stroke his hair while his other hand went up and down his back in soothing motions.

"I know. We'll be home soon. Tomorrow night we'll head back." He paused for a few silent moments before speaking again. "How about we go in together tomorrow? No make-up, no hiding what we've done to each other."

"Are you sure?" Ivan asked and looked at him. Gilbert wore a determined expression and he knew not to argue.

"We'll sit next to each other. If they ask questions we'll tell them the truth. We're not perfect, we argue, we get carried away..."

"They hate that I've hurt you," Ivan told him. Gilbert grabbed his cheeks and he winced.

"We've hurt each other. I can admit that I started a lot of the fights. I hit first or I yell at you until you hit me, but that's none of their damn business. Our relationship is no one else's business."

Ivan watched Gilbert's expression harden but he could tell that the man was on the verge of breaking as well. He was still weakened although getting stronger by the day, but even someone as strong-willed as Gilbert had limits. Ivan buried his face into Gilbert's neck again and gripped onto his body tightly.

"I love you, Gilbert, I really do, I don't want to lose you..." Ivan muttered.

That statement again. Gilbert always winced and felt guilty and sick whenever he heard Ivan say it. It usually happened after a physical or verbal fight, or sometimes both. He knew Ivan wanted to own him, he had no notion of how to love a person. It was complicated for Ivan but somehow it still made Gilbert feel proud whenever Ivan wanted him for something — it felt good to be wanted and desired, even if that desire came from a purely selfish and possessive place.

Ivan was more accurate than he knew when he said that they deserved each other, Gilbert saw that better than anyone. He knew it was messed up and unhealthy, but it was the only way he felt alive again, although sometimes with Ivan's comfort it still made him feel crazy and wrong. Just like Ivan, Gilbert had a hard time telling what was good for him or if something was right, and he ran on impulse more than anything else since the dissolution.

After seeing how his friends reacted to the bruises he had, and the lack of reaction to Ivan, he made a note to try harder, or at least comfort Ivan more after they fought. At least for tonight he'd share a room with him and comfort him, and both could try to mend some of the damage they've done to each other.


Thanks for reading!
Remember to leave a comment if you enjoyed! Thank you! 💕

Their relationship was rocky and they argued a lot, and both threw punches at each other. They could take it but sometimes it would get out of hand, Ivan and Gilbert were both struggling with their own unhealthy views of their relationship while still falling into bed with each other.f

Author's notes/thoughts:
•I don't like them hurting each other, but I can't not imagine that they would have during the Cold War. Tension was so high between them and both of them were hurt and struggled. Sometimes they took it out on each other, sometimes they were each other's comfort. It was never out of malice or a desire to actually hurt the other.