A/N : PruGer. (Miss Kiwi, can you stop telling me to go get fucked now? JK, I love your abuse.)

ORACLE

The whole damn thing had come to a head when Gilbert's stupid bird had opened its mouth in front of Ludwig for the first time.

If there was truly one thing that Ludwig just couldn't understand about Gilbert, it was his entirely random and utterly bizarre affinity for birds. Gilbert was the toughest guy Ludwig had ever known. Big and broad, gruff, rugged, macho and egotistical. Gilbert lifted weights and then went to the bar to cause a ruckus, had girls chasing after him, had friends that were as much troublemakers as he was. Gilbert looked like he had just gotten kicked out of the navy or something, with his rough style of clothing and short hair sticking up at the top, muscle everywhere and always smirking.

Being an albino only made Gilbert look more, well...badass, though Ludwig hated giving Gilbert any unnecessary credit.

Gilbert was a badass, plain and simple, and so Ludwig had always found it strange that Gilbert's pet of choice wasn't an equally badass dog, or a snake, or a lizard, or even a cat.

Gilbert loved birds. Loved them, and one of Ludwig's earliest memories was of accompanying Gilbert to a pet store only to have Gilbert actually coo at the birds as much as he had ever cooed at Ludwig.

Bizarre.

Gilbert had always had a bird throughout Ludwig's life. In the beginning they had been small birds, typical pets, short lived little finches and the what-not. Ludwig was no expert, certainly not, but he knew that he very much disliked birds.

He found them disgusting, to be quite frank. Infectious little things, dead-eyed and creepy, fluttering about here and there and shedding feathers along with disease. Ugh. Made him shudder even thinking about it. Birds were creepy—what the hell was wrong with Gilbert? Horrible reptilian feet, talons, hollow and pure masses of feather and killing instincts. Vicious, remorseless, emotionless little piles of viruses and murder.

Gross.

Gilbert had found his soul mate, so to speak, when Ludwig had been eleven. An abandoned cockatoo, white and large, with orange-red feathers on its head. Fifteen years old. Gilbert had fallen in love with it instantly, had taken it home, and had said to Ludwig, 'Look! He kinda looks like me.'

Ludwig had rolled his eyes, and grumbled, 'Yeah, sure. You're both bird-brains, alright.'

Gilbert had punched his shoulder, and had named the cockatoo Siegfried. Why, Ludwig didn't know. But it made him sick, walking into Gilbert's home every afternoon after school and hearing him cooing, 'Sigi!'

Yuck.

Gilbert was smitten with that bird, absolutely taken with it, and often walked about after that with the soulless cretin perched there upon his shoulder. Ludwig, for the first time in his life, was happy that Gilbert had moved out, because he couldn't stand that thing. Gilbert was ten years older than Ludwig, had his own place, and they weren't real brothers anyway.

Ludwig was the adopted one, and maybe that was why Gilbert had adopted that cockatoo.

'Get used to him!' Gilbert had said. 'He's gonna be around longer than me. Know how long these things live?'

Ludwig shuddered.

Years passed with that horrible bird, which had attached itself to Gilbert out of instinct, because obviously that little demon couldn't feel anything (Gilbert naturally disagreed), and Ludwig had begrudgingly accepted Siegfried's presence in his life. Loved Gilbert far too much to ever not come over because Gilbert's had a hell-spawn fluttering about.

Anyway, the bird seemed as leery of Ludwig, and never ever talked to him, despite Gilbert claiming that it was a chatterbox.

Sigi didn't talk to strangers, much like Gilbert had always taught Ludwig in childhood, and so it usually just cocked its head to the side and stared Ludwig down from behind those cold, terrifying eyes.

Ludwig was twenty-three by then. Twelve years with that feathered creep, and it hadn't said one damn word to Ludwig.

Sigi hated him.

Ludwig and Gilbert spent the nights on the couch, cuddled up and watching television, and Ludwig swore that the bird was plotting ways to annihilate him. Sometimes, the little shit would come flying out of nowhere and right into Ludwig's face. Ludwig, although he prided himself on his masculinity as much as gruff Gilbert did, screamed like a girl in those instances, bolting to his feet and shuddering as he fled from that godless creation.

Gilbert always laughed, and said, 'He's jealous!'

And it did actually seem that way. Gilbert loved that bird, and the bird in turn was obviously possessive of Gilbert, because every time Gilbert laid a hand on Ludwig there was inevitably the fluttering of wings. The bird had it in for Ludwig, because Ludwig and Gilbert were always together.

Sometimes, Ludwig felt that Gilbert intentionally manhandled him just to get a rise out of the bird and make it jealous.

On the couch, Gilbert threw an arm over Ludwig's shoulder and hauled him in, and the bird rushed into Ludwig's face.

In the kitchen, Gilbert put a hand on Ludwig's back and leaned in to kiss his cheek, and the bird squawked and bit the tip of Ludwig's boot.

Sometimes, Gilbert would smirk a little and drag Ludwig up to his feet, yank him in, and rock them back and forth in some weird little sort of dance, and the bird would come flapping in and land on Gilbert's shoulder, causing Ludwig to wrench back and shriek.

Inside of Gilbert's home, it seemed that Gilbert's hands were always running over Ludwig in one manner or another, and Ludwig both loved and hated it.

Gilbert laughed every time the bird tried to end Ludwig, ego stoked no doubt by something being possessive over him, even if it was just a bird.

Gilbert just couldn't have known that Ludwig died inside a little bit during every instance in which Gilbert's hand was upon him, and not because he feared the bird. Ludwig had developed a very large, very potent, very awkward crush on Gilbert throughout his life, and of course could never say so. They weren't brothers, no, but they had grown up together in that sort of manner, and so Ludwig could never turn to Gilbert and say, 'I'm in love with you, so kiss me you asshole.'

Couldn't even count how many times he had hoped that Gilbert would twist at the side and shove him down on the couch.

Alas.

Would never live that down had he admitted it, and Gilbert distancing himself was the most terrifying prospect of Ludwig's entire existence, even more than being pecked to death by a flock of birds.

So Ludwig stayed quiet, and pined as Gilbert jostled him.

This was the sad state of Ludwig's love life at present : being used by his not-really-brother to make a goddamn spawn of oblivion jealous.

Just kill him.

And then one day, in summer, Gilbert grabbed Ludwig around the neck, tussled his hair, throttled him, kissed his head, and said, "Lutz! I need a big favor."

"What?" Ludwig asked, when his neck was free from Gilbert's huge arm.

"I'm going on vacation—"

"Where? With who?"

Ludwig wasn't jealous like the bird, really! Really. Just...Gilbert was a troublemaker, after all.

...why hadn't Gilbert invited him? Hmph.

Not jealous, though.

"To Thailand!" Gilbert said, eagerly, and Ludwig's mouth dropped open. "Me and the guys are going for two weeks."

The guys—so who the hell was Ludwig?

Okay, now he was jealous.

"Why? With who?"

"Antonio and Francis. They talked me into it. Said it would be a good time. Cheap beer and pretty girls, they said. Boxing in bars." Gilbert punched Ludwig's chest, playfully, and said, "I can get into lots of fights and win some money."

"You're gonna get your ass kicked," Ludwig immediately said, with no hint of humor, and Gilbert waved him off.

Ludwig may or may not have been pouting a little, because Gilbert suddenly swept forward and grabbed Ludwig up in his arms, pressing forward again to kiss his temple.

"Hey! Come on! Don't be mad! I knew you wouldn't wanna go, it's too damn hot for you, and you don't like to get into trouble. You'd just be babysitting us the whole time. Anyway, I kinda have another babysitting job in mind."

Oh, no—

Ludwig narrowed his eyes, sent Gilbert his most dangerous look, and writhed out of his arms, saying, firmly, "Absolutely not. No way. No, Gilbert. No."

Gilbert lunged forward and tackled him again, this time fully engaging his muscles and squeezing Ludwig so tightly that escape was impossible.

"Please, Lutz!" Gilbert crooned, in that voice he used to talk to his bird. "Please! It's just two weeks. You know I wouldn't ask if you weren't the only person. The guys are coming with me, so who else is there?"

Satan, for one, since surely he had been the one to create that horrible little creature.

"Please, man! I'll make it up to you. I'll do anything you want. I'll be your slave."

A rush of red to Ludwig's face, and his will foundered a little, because god help him he woulda done anything for Gilbert, even that. He had such a huge crush on this miserable bastard, hated himself for it, but hell.

He foundered when Gilbert pulled back enough to look into his eyes, because Gilbert was extra handsome when he was pleading.

Dammit.

"Alright," Ludwig grumbled, and Gilbert lit up, kissing Ludwig's cheek quickly.

One day, maybe Gilbert would get so excited that he would kiss Ludwig on the lips. He held to that pitiful little hope.

The next thing dazed Ludwig knew, he was in Gilbert's house and Gilbert was putting list after list into Ludwig's clammy palm, giving him an endless lecture. Good lord, had never received such detailed instructions on anything in his life.

Gilbert loved this bird, adored it, and so Ludwig knew his own life and health rested on the life and health of this dead-eyed little avian. A dead bird was a dead Ludwig, and Ludwig felt the pressure. The anxiety was high.

Before Gilbert left, he hugged Ludwig, grabbed his waist and kissed his forehead, hugged him again, kissed his cheek, hugged him one more time, and then departed, calling as he went, "Lutz! Don't you dare keep Sigi locked up the whole time! I'll know if you do!"

Ludwig curled his lip, and wanted to die.

Gilbert was gone then, and Ludwig's nightmare came true : just him and the horrendous little bird, who was already staring at him dangerously.

Ludwig turned around, met those lifeless eyes, stood up straight and tall, and said, commandingly, "It's just me and you now. Don't you dare cause any trouble, you bastard, or I'll cook you for dinner."

Sigi cocked his head, and Ludwig swore the bird understood him somehow, because he suddenly came flapping at Ludwig's face. Ludwig shrieked, as usual, and ran out of Gilbert's house.

Those days sucked.

The first week, Sigi pecked at his boots, flapped at him, tried to intimidate him, tried to run him off, and when that didn't work, the bird started making unholy noises. Demonic growls and hisses and the weirdest sorts of sounds, and Ludwig was certain that he was staring into the very pit of hell itself when that bird snarled at him.

Holy shit, that was terrifying!

After the first week, though, having failed to run Ludwig off, Sigi finally seemed to accept Ludwig's presence, as begrudgingly as Ludwig had accepted his. Ludwig was able to sit on Gilbert's couch and channel surf without Sigi trying to fly in and claw his eyes out.

Strangely enough, however, it seemed that after the spewing of bird-vitriol, Sigi actually warmed up to Ludwig.

Ludwig did not want that, sorry to say.

One night, as Ludwig sighed and lounged on the couch, the bird suddenly decided at last to speak to Ludwig. Completely out of nowhere. Sigi just flew down to the floor before the couch, looked up at him, eyed him for a moment, and then he just spoke up.

What he said certainly took Ludwig aback.

Just stared up at him creepily, those cold eyes unblinking, and then crooned, "Lutz is hot!"

Erhm—!

Oh!

Dumbly, stupidly, Ludwig said, "Thank you," because it was automatic and he didn't know what else to do. He immediately realized how idiotic that was, and nearly smacked his own forehead.

The bird bobbed his head, eyeing him fervently, and Ludwig stared right back at the damn thing.

Hmm...

Ludwig sat up and leaned over the edge of the couch, got as close to the infectious little bastard as he dared, and he asked, dumb as ever, "Who said that?"

Was he really holding a conversation with a bird? He was about as bird-brained as Gilbert and his pet.

...Gilbert's pet. Right. Gilbert's pet. Gilbert. Gilbert's pet, who didn't talk to strangers and was exposed to only Gilbert, Francis, and Antonio.

Well, well, well.

The holy trinity of rushing hormones, for sure, and Ludwig heaved a sigh when the bird was silent again. Coulda been any single one of them that had said that, because all three of them thought only with their second brains and talked endlessly about 'hot' things.

Was kinda good for his ego, though, knowing that at least one of them held him in high physical regard. Probably Francis, though, considering that Francis had already made a pass at him, before being punched in the face by Gilbert.

The bird didn't say anything else that night, and Ludwig went home shortly after.

The next day, however, Sigi flew at him when he came into Gilbert's home. Ludwig shrieked as usual, but Sigi didn't try to murder him, and instead landed on his shoulder. Ludwig tensed up, eyes wide and absolutely petrified, glancing over at the awful thing on his shoulder as he clamped his jaw.

Holy shit, oh god, oh no, oh shit, what the hell did he do to get this pile of germs off of him? Oh, god, he was gonna be sick—

He took a stiff step forward, and then another, hoping the motion would make Sigi fly off, but it didn't. He went to Sigi's perch in the living room, leaned towards it, but the creep didn't take the hint and sidestepped over to Ludwig's other shoulder as Ludwig squirmed and a high-pitched noise of distress escaped his throat. Ludwig was forced to raise a shaking hand up to the bird and try to coax it. Sigi stepped on his wrist, Ludwig lost six lives, and finally was able to put the bird on the perch.

He immediately ran into Gilbert's bathroom, stripped his clothes, took a shower, and then commandeered Gilbert's clothing as he threw his own in the wash.

Disgusting!

He went on a cleaning frenzy after that, disinfecting every possible surface and spraying the couch and carpet with whatever he could get his hands on. The bird just watched him, tilting his head, and Ludwig couldn't stop shuddering.

He plopped down on the couch as the sun set, tried to relax, and griped to no one, "Goddammit, Gilbert. I deserve to get laid for this. You son of a bitch."

He writhed a little, pitifully, kicking his legs and wondering why Gilbert just wouldn't fucking make a pass at him like Francis had. Gilbert would bang just about anyone as long as they were warm, but wouldn't even give Ludwig a fucking kiss.

Pitiful.

When Ludwig was dozing off a little in front of the TV later, he was very rudely awakened when the goddamn bird came flapping down straight onto his head. He shrieked for the millionth time, bolted upright, rubbed himself up and down and shuddered, and sent the bird a glare.

Gross—

The bird stared up at him as blankly as always, lit up in the light of the TV, and Ludwig shuddered once more, pulled himself together, and grumbled, "You demonic little shit."

Sigi cocked his head, and then spoke again.

This time, he squawked, "One day, Lutz will be my boyfriend! Just you wait and see."

A blaze of red to Ludwig's face, but at least this time he didn't stupidly offer the bird his thanks for the compliment.

Once more, Ludwig asked, "Who said that? Why don't ya tell me something useful, you little creep!"

The bird bobbed his head, uselessly.

Ludwig sighed, and sat up to run his hands over his face.

Had a secret admirer, did he? How quaint. Kinda wished it had been a public admirer, because he was single as hell and very, very lonely. Francis had never hit on him again after Gilbert's punch, Antonio admired handsome men but was straight, so that ruled him out, but—

Oh, wait.

A thought struck Ludwig, very powerfully, and he looked over his hands to gawk at the bird in disbelief. Utter disbelief, because Ludwig had suddenly realized that neither Antonio nor Francis called Ludwig 'Lutz'. In fact, the only person who really called him that at all was Gilbert.

Only Gilbert called him Lutz.

Ludwig stared down at the bird, and then realized he had started smiling.

A rush of adrenaline, hope, elation, excitement.

It may have been pitiful, but so be it! He had had a crush on that handsome jerk since he was old enough to have romantic feelings, and thinking that maybe it had been mutual was incredible. He had half a mind to actually hug that disgusting little cretin for a moment, but quickly pushed that aside.

Instead, he quirked a brow, sneered a little, and said, "That jerk! He thought you would never speak to me. Well! We got one over on him, didn't we, Sigi?"

The bird recognized his name and took that as an invitation to flap up and onto Ludwig's chest. Ludwig screamed, leapt up, and ran into Gilbert's bedroom in a fit to escape.

God almighty, just wanted Gilbert to get back home.

Several days later, he did, mercifully.

When at long last there was a knock on the door, Ludwig straightened up and smirked away, smoothed back his hair, and began his march.

When he pulled the door open, there Gilbert stood, sunglasses up on his head, skin red from sunburn, suitcase in hand. A quick meeting of eyes, and Gilbert splayed out as he always did, face full of arrogance, and he was very quick to reach out and punch Ludwig's chest as always, uttering gruffly, "Hey, Lutz! How's my little baby?"

Alive and well, surprisingly. It hadn't been as hard as Ludwig had anticipated, but the bird was the very last thing on Ludwig's mind.

Time to put this to bed.

...and put Gilbert to bed at the same time.

So Ludwig leaned in the doorframe, crossed his arms over his chest, gave handsome Gilbert a very long look up and down, and then said, simply, "I'm fine. Thanks for asking."

Gilbert opened his mouth, lost his voice, and suddenly Gilbert's face was blazing red from something other than sunburn.

Ludwig was the one smirking then, giving Gilbert another very obvious raking up and down, and then Ludwig said, casually, "So. Your bird finally decided that I was worth speaking to."

Gilbert's face was so red then that Ludwig worried he would combust, and Gilbert suddenly turned his head aside, raised a palm to his face, and seemed utterly mortified.

That was when Ludwig knew for absolute certain that no mistake had been made, and Ludwig didn't give Gilbert time to die from humiliation. He reached out, snatched Gilbert's collar, yanked him inside, shut the door, ripped the suitcase from Gilbert's lax hand, and pounced.

Gilbert inhaled in shock and seemed quite stupefied when Ludwig pushed him up against the wall and kissed him. Froze up like a board, for a second, eyes wide as could be and immobile. But Gilbert was always quick to regain control, snapped out of it, and in one swift movement had twisted them around so that it was Ludwig pinned up against the wall.

And everything was excellent for one wonderful minute, what with Gilbert's tongue lost down his throat and his hands on the back of Gilbert's red neck, until the fucking bird realized Gilbert was there and came barging in, flapping full force into their faces. Predictably, Ludwig screeched and shuddered, and Gilbert started laughing.

Didn't stop laughing for about five minutes, as he coddled his bird, kissed his disgusting little head, cooed at him, and then locked him up in a rare moment.

The second Gilbert locked Sigi in his cage, Ludwig knew he was about to be wrecked.

Gilbert marched on Ludwig, looking very intent, and Ludwig took a step back, and then another as Gilbert started sneering. Ludwig held up a hand in warning, and said, in his most dangerous voice, "Gilbert! No. Stop! Don't you dare!"

Gilbert kept marching, and Ludwig kept backing up.

"Gilbert! NO! You just kissed that disgusting bird, Gilbert—"

Gilbert's sneer was wide and satisfied, as Ludwig backed himself into a corner.

No, no, no, not like this! Gilbert's lips had just planted themselves on the virulent plumage of that vile little cesspool, no—

No, no, no!

Gilbert advanced, menacingly, and because Ludwig was dumb he found himself pinned in a corner with Gilbert's massive biceps locking him in. Gilbert leaned in, and Ludwig craned his neck in ways he hadn't known were physically possible in effort to avoid Gilbert's tainted lips.

He was screeching the entire while, as Gilbert turned this way and that in an effort to kiss him.

Ludwig lost the last of his three lives in those awful minutes.

Gilbert finally conceded, if only not to murder him by coronary, and suddenly Ludwig was very roughly picked up and tossed over Gilbert's shoulder like a sack. What the fuck? Ludwig very weakly protested, bringing his fists down gently on Gilbert's back, but Gilbert carried him into the bathroom, threw him down into the bathtub, and turned on the shower overhead.

Ludwig shrieked one more time when the cold water hit him, and by then he was really feeling the strain in his vocal chords. Gilbert, the bastard, kept Ludwig from crawling out with his foot, yanked his shirt off, then his belt, and waited until the water was warm before he leapt on Ludwig.

Literally.

"Is this better?" Gilbert crooned, as he pinned Ludwig down in the bathtub, the water falling down over them.

Ludwig smartly slapped Gilbert's sunburned neck to let him know how he felt. Gilbert winced, but was far too determined to let that bother him.

And well...

From a very technical, biological standpoint, why yes, this was better. Much, in fact, but Ludwig still reached out, snatched the bar of soap, and forcibly ran it over Gilbert's lips. Gilbert snorted as Ludwig used his hand to scrub Gilbert's lips free of whatever murderous viruses lingered there, and Gilbert managed to grumble, "You're fuckin' crazy, you know? Good thing you're hot."

Ludwig rolled his eyes, and muttered, "Likewise. You're the worst."

Would have enjoyed being pinned under Gilbert much more had his clothes not been soaking wet, but that didn't really matter too much shortly after when Gilbert sat up and pulled them off.

Not exactly how Ludwig had planned it up in his head, but good enough.

More than good enough, actually, when Gilbert leaned down, pressed their noses together, as water dripped down from his hair. Gilbert was always handsome, but was quite beautiful in that moment to Ludwig when he suddenly smiled. The weight of Gilbert above him was certainly pleasing, at any rate, and now that Gilbert was no longer infectious Ludwig arched his neck up to kiss him.

Long, heated minutes as Gilbert pressed into him and nearly suffocated him, and when Gilbert began squirming out of his own wet pants, Ludwig did dutifully chide, "You're wasting water."

Gilbert scoffed, rolled his eyes, and muttered, "I leave it on, and you complain about wasting water. I turn it off, and you're gonna complain that you're too cold. I can't win with you. I never can."

Ludwig might have smirked a little, but was denied the chance to complain about anything else when Gilbert successfully kicked his soaking boxers off, clumsily, and refocused.

Ludwig did glimpse the dark, ugly bruises all over Gilbert's chest and abdomen then, and it was his turn to laugh, as he offered, so helpfully, "I told you you'd get your ass kicked!"

Gilbert glared at him, cursed under his breath, and very roughly grabbed Ludwig's arms to pin him down, grunting, "I'm about to kick your ass."

And boy did Gilbert ever mean that, as he tossed Ludwig around like a damn rag doll in that bathtub, trying to pretend he was actually a boxer or something, probably because Ludwig had pricked his huge ego. Ludwig had daydreamed about fucking Gilbert, yeah, in every possible way, but hadn't exactly prepared himself for getting 'every possible way' during one session. That was a rough hour or two there in Gilbert's bathroom, and Gilbert wasn't the only bruised one when the water was finally turned off.

Sore as hell but smiling stupidly, Ludwig hauled himself halfway out of the tub, reaching out for a towel, and Gilbert suddenly griped, "You're paying my water bill this month."

"Like hell."

Gilbert got out, stretched and seemed very satisfied with himself as usual, and as Ludwig dried himself, Gilbert lifted a brow.

Ludwig knew he was up to something, and preemptively glared at him.

Up to something alright, because Gilbert suddenly beamed, and said, "Man! Let me tell Sigi you're gonna be living here with me." Eh—hey wait, he hadn't agreed to that just yet, but, ya know, if Gilbert wanted to then fuckin' sure, erhm— "He's gonna wanna give you a little kiss."

Ludwig straightened up, eyes wide and feeling clammy, as Gilbert leered.

"Don't you dare," he warned.

Gilbert was a piece of shit, he really was, and in a flash Gilbert had stalked out of the bathroom and into the living room, naked as he was, and he called, "Stay there, Lutz! I'm gonna bring him to you."

No—!

Ludwig scrambled out, as naked as Gilbert was, and it wasn't really his proudest moment, screeching and flailing as his apparent new boyfriend came charging at him with the product of his nightmares. Gilbert's soul-eating laugh, as he chased Ludwig all through the house, bird on his arm, bopping up and down happily, until Ludwig locked himself in Gilbert's bedroom.

Well. His now, too, by all rights.

Gilbert knocked on the door, and called, "Lutz! Come on! You kiss me, you kiss Sigi. That's the rule of the house."

"I'm burning the house down," Ludwig called back, and sat on the bed and pouted for a while.

It was kinda hard to stay mad at Gilbert, though, particularly when he was very interested in taking Gilbert's hands away from that bird and back on him, thanks a lot.

Gilbert was still smirking, stark naked yet when Ludwig opened the bedroom door. The bird, at least, had flown off in boredom, and Gilbert charged Ludwig immediately to tackle him to the bed.

Ludwig regretted every decision he had ever made in life.

Was kinda glad the pestilent avian had opened its mouth, though. Maybe. A little.

When they finished roughhousing and fell into a moment of stillness, Ludwig smirked again, and said, "You know, instead of punching poor Francis you coulda just told me."

Gilbert grunted, and muttered, "Nah. Gotta put all of your little admirers in place."

"All of?" Ludwig instantly asked, and Gilbert shook his head in exasperation. "Tell me, who else is there? I'd like to know."

Gilbert narrowed his eyes, suddenly as possessive as his awful little bird, and said, very sternly, "Don't worry about it. Or else."

"Or else what?"

"The bird," Gilbert hissed, and Ludwig instantly submitted when Gilbert kissed him again and once more pinned him down.

Eh. Whatever.

That little shit couldn't run Ludwig off all these years, and wouldn't start now.

Guess they'd be sharing Gilbert for a long while.