AN: I thought about writing a different pairing to break up the every-other pattern I've got going here, but then I was just like, Naaaahhh…
And I'm still caught up in the desire to write something beautiful. And probably still failing at it. Whatever? Lol though, all these little one-shots keep ending up cute. Even though I'm kinda more into angst than into fluff and cuteness. How does this keep happening?
I possibly have a deathwish though, pushing off my finals studying like this... ah well. Worth it, right? One can hope.
Sternennacht: German for "Starry night."
Pairing: Germany/Prussia
Prompt: ok but imagine your otp stargazing while person b is snuggled into person a's side and tells them how much their existence means to them
Sternennacht
Ba-dumm.
Ba-dumm.
Ba-dumm.
Gilbert could feel the resonance of Ludwig's heartbeat against his ear.
Ba-dumm. Gilbert smiled. Ba-dumm. The first time he'd ever laid his head on Ludwig's chest, the other man's heart had been hammering out a frantic crescendo, his breathing fast and shallow, and Gilbert had known that Ludwig was feeling the same terrible, monstrous butterflies in his chest that Gilbert was feeling in his.
They didn't even feel like butterflies—more like Atlas moths. The female ones. But with razor-edged wings. Gott, Gilbert had been so nervous he'd felt like the gigantic moths were going to beat his heart out of his throat. Realizing that Ludwig probably felt the exact same way only seemed to make the moths beat their wings faster, harder.
But Gilbert and Ludwig had been together for three years, now, and the initial Atlas moth-wing love had dispersed, broken down to those cute little white butterflies that tickled lightly, tickled Gilbert into fond, small smiles that felt like they'd eventually rot his teeth they were so sweet. And when Ludwig returned the smile, blue eyes bright and soft as bluebird feathers, the little white butterflies in Gilbert's chest would tickle him into quiet laughter and he'd squeeze Ludwig's hand and feel the warmth flow through him.
Gilbert and Ludwig had been together for three years now, and when Gilbert laid his head on Ludwig's chest, the other man's heartbeat was strong and slow and calm, his breathing deep. In a relaxed state, Ludwig's heart only beat about thirty times a minute, and each breath lasted several seconds, the guy was so fucking fit. Gilbert loved it, though, the gentle rise and fall of Ludwig's chest, in and out like the tide. He loved the pauses in between beats that made each pulse of life just that much more thrilling.
Yes, Gilbert thought, turning his head slightly to press a kiss against the reverberating throb beneath his lover's shirt. He liked this kind of love much better.
Ludwig hummed, the sound vibrating through Gilbert's head, and he snickered and pushed himself up slightly to look down at the younger man, suddenly aware of the water that had soaked into his clothes from the grass they were lying on as the breeze pressed the wet fabric to his skin. He shivered, only partly from the cold.
"Hey," Ludwig murmured softly, looking at him with fond eyes.
"Hey yourself," Gilbert replied.
The line of Ludwig's lips eased upwards, and he turned his gaze back to the galaxy spread above them, eyes reflecting the darkness and stars.
The night sky was even more beautiful reflected in Ludwig's eyes, Gilbert thought. Maybe because he felt he actually had a chance of reaching the stars, there.
Ludwig looked so perfect, lying there in the dark with his arms crossed behind his head, O-type eyes turned to the star-studded black swath of space like he was reading the secret to life engraved there. Or like he was counting each pinprick of light and cataloging what type of celestial body he thought it to be, which Gilbert wouldn't put it past him to attempt.
Smiling, Gilbert rested his head against Ludwig's chest again, his hand idly tracing over defined abs beneath soft fabric. Soft, thin fabric that Ludwig's body heat was seeping through, so that Gilbert felt like a composition of juxtaposition, warmth against one cheek and cool night air against the other, one hand sliding beneath cotton to press against the smooth skin beneath, the other arm pinned beneath him against the rough, wet grass.
Ba-dumm. Gilbert smiled, eyes closed.
Ba-dumm.
Ba-dumm.
Ba-dumm.
He'd open his eyes every now and then to glance up at Ludwig's face, each time finding the other man absorbed in the starry night sky. Gilbert frowned, finally rolling over slightly so he could look upwards as well, wondering what it was that Ludwig seemed to find so fascinating. Maybe he really was counting all the stars and planets and whatever other things were up there. Airplanes. Satellites. Who knew.
Gilbert stared at the night sky with narrowed eyes. Okay, so it was dark and had pretty lights, but it wasn't that awesome. The only thing awesome about it was how much Ludwig seemed to love it. Gilbert would rather stare at Ludwig. The night sky held his attention for a few minutes, at best, but the man next to him could hold his attention for hours. For all of eternity, maybe.
"Hey," Gilbert said, turning and poking Ludwig in the side with a pale finger. "What're you looking at that's so fascinating?"
Ludwig glanced at him, then removed a hand from behind his head to gesture at the starry night. "I should think it would be obvious," he murmured in his deep voice that always spread warmth right down to Gilbert's bones. He shivered, and not at all from the cold.
"Well, yeah, but what do you see?" he pressed, grabbing the muscled arm and pulling it down to be his headrest as he turned his gaze upwards again, still frowning. "Because all I see are a bunch of stars that are way less awesome than me, but obviously you see something different, because it's enough to keep you staring at it instead of at me."
Ludwig huffed a laugh, and Gilbert poked him again, whining. "Come on, I'm serious! I am awesome and deserve admiration, but all of yours is being showered elsewhere, and I want to know why."
Amused blue eyes turned thoughtful as Ludwig turned his head to look upwards again, lips tightening and brows drawing together. Gott, Ludwig's face got so intense when he was thinking, all the lines hardening, and he always looked like he was planning to murder someone, but Gilbert loved the expression anyways.
Didn't mean he didn't tease him for it, though.
"Yes, Mr. Murder Face?" Gilbert prompted, lips quirking into a smirk. "How long are you going to be mentally killing people in your head before you find an answer that will make sense to humans?"
Ludwig snorted, glancing at him, then back up at the colossal garden of stars above them. He pursed his lips.
"And there goes the Queen of England," Gilbert grinned. "Shot twice through the back of the head with a sniper rifle. Thud! She hits the floor, already dead."
"I have nothing against the Queen of England," Ludwig pointed out, giving him a confused look.
"I'm sure you have nothing against any of the homicide victims in your head," Gilbert tossed back, smirking.
"You're morbid," Ludwig informed him.
"Your face is morbid," Gilbert retorted. With a smirk, because he'd totally won that. Because he was awesome.
Ludwig sighed. "I just…" he looked back up at the starry night sky again, for only the millionth time. "Don't you feel freer at night? Without the limitations of the day?"
Gilbert blinked. "Say what?"
Ludwig gestured at the sky with the hand not pinned by Gilbert's head. "You can see so much farther at night. During the day, we can only see a few miles up, only within the Earth's atmosphere, aside from the sun and the moon, and nothing else but blue. But at night, it's like the lid is taken off the box, and suddenly we can see, even with just the naked eye, stars and galaxies up to 2.5 million lightyears away. Which is also seeing 2.5 million years into the past, since it took that long for the light from those stars to reach us. So we see them as they were 2.5 million years ago, not as they were now. Isn't that just..."
Ludwig glanced at him again, lips pursing in that oddly adorable way, though his eyes were bright with wonderment. "Don't you think that's amazing? That suddenly we can see so far, that suddenly the world isn't limited to just us anymore. To see that there's so much more out there to discover that we don't yet know about. So much that exists that we won't ever know about."
His expression was like a child's, then, and Gilbert felt his heart melt a little. "I guess so," he murmured, trying to see the night sky with Ludwig's eyes. He squinted for several moments, then sighed, letting his head relax back against his lover's arm that was much too muscular to make that good of a headrest. "All I see though are shades of color. Which I guess that's why you're studying astrophysics and I'm studying European history, and why you're probably going to become a famous scientist and I'm probably going to spend my life working as a barista. Though working as a bouncer might be more fun, because I'd at least get to kick people out. Can't do that as a barista."
Ludwig hummed, curling his arm and pulling Gilbert close to him again, making the smaller man yelp and struggle a bit before laughing and settling his head back down on the other man's chest.
Ba-dumm.
Ba-dumm.
Ba-dumm.
He buried his nose in Ludwig's shirt, closing his eyes and breathing in the scent of the grass they were lying on mixed with the scent that was so distinctly Ludwig, cologne and sweat and iron from the necklace he was wearing all the time—the necklace that Gilbert had given him on the first-year anniversary of their relationship. He'd never taken it off.
Smiling, Gilbert's hand closed around the matching pendant around his own neck. He rubbed his thumb over the points, the edges, the crown and royal cipher engraved on its face.
The Iron Cross had been a Prussian military decoration instituted in 1813 by Frederick William III for distinguished service in the Prussia War of Liberation. It was really a shame that the honor of it had been tarnished by the Nazis during World War II, when the badge was engraved with a swastika.
A West German statute of 1957 permitted the Iron Cross to be worn only with the swastika removed. Gilbert though had found two modeled on the original Prussian design, and it just… felt right, to wear it. Maybe because he'd been fascinated by Prussian history since he was a kid.
Not to mention, it looked damn good hanging around Ludwig's neck.
It was symbolic of their relationship, more than anything, Gilbert felt, in some way he couldn't really explain. But he knew enough about Prussian history that he could lecture anyone on the subject for hours—and Ludwig had probably heard enough about Prussia from Gilbert to do the same—to distract anyone from the real reason for wearing the medal. It was… a connection. To the past. To each other…
Gilbert scoffed at himself, shaking his head against Ludwig's chest. Gott he was sentimental.
"Hm?" Ludwig asked, though is gaze was still on the stars.
Gilbert just shook his head again, sighing contentedly, arm draped over his lover tightening slightly before relaxing again. Maybe he was sentimental, but at least Ludwig loved him for it.
Ba-dumm.
Ba-dumm.
Ba-dumm.
Ba-dumm.
Ba-dumm.
Pulsating life. Alive and here, right now.
Gilbert smiled tremulously at the paradoxical strength and fragility of it. "Hey, Ludwig?"
"Hm?"
Gilbert pushed himself up to look at him. "I don't care if I have to be a barista for my entire life."
"You won't be a barista for your entire life, Gilbert," came the amused reply.
"No, I mean," Gilbert said. "I mean that I don't care if the rest of my life is shit, just as long as I have you. Because if I have you then it's not shit."
Ludwig looked at him, then, blue eyes bright and piercing and soft and waiting all at once.
Gilbert took a deep breath, feeling it catch slightly in his throat as the pressure there built and built and Gilbert wanted Ludwig to know. He needed him to know.
"But you know, right?" Gilbert pressed on, feeling a hint of desperation. There was a lump in his throat but he spoke past it. "You know how much your existence means to me. You know that I used to be so angry and bitter and hiding it behind laughter and grins and pomposity, you must have known because you seemed to see right through all of it. I would be laughing, and you'd just keep looking at me like you were waiting for me to just stop faking already and break down crying or yelling or just say what I was actually thinking because you wouldn't accept me as anything less or anything more than I actually am.
"And I..." Gilbert looked down, smiling wryly. "And I was so afraid that there wasn't actually anything there, underneath all the pomp and bluster, the smirks and the arrogance and the snide remarks. It was all I'd ever had to define myself. But every time you looked at me, you just had this look that said, 'I know you can be better. I know that you're better than this.'"
A dry, humorless chuckle. "And I wanted to be, I really did, because I wanted you to look at me the way everyone else did, with admiration or frustration or both, but you wouldn't. Gott verdammt you, you stubborn ass." A real laugh, this time.
"You confused the hell out of me. And then in that general ed English class we shared, creative writing or whatever, I honestly don't know how we got into that class, but you read this story about your dog, and I guess the professor must have made you and you didn't want to do it, because it was this really funny, tragic story, but you read it in this deadpan voice, and the whole class was cracking up throughout and then in tears or nearly in tears by the end, but your face stayed straight and serious the entire time.
"And then, after class, I think said that, wow, that was some dog, that's too bad it disappeared and never came back, and you were just like, 'I never had a dog. I always wanted one, though. I would've been less lonely. Blackie was a figment of my imagination, and I lost her the day I grew up and realized an imaginary dog was never going to make anything better.' And then you walked away and I was confused."
Gilbert shook his head, grinning wryly. "Gott, you gave me a fucking headache for two days trying to puzzle out what the hell you seemed to have been trying to tell me.
"And in that creative writing class, I always used to write those terrible stories about me being awesome—sheiße they were awful things. But after that two-day headache, I ended up writing this story about the first time I got beat up in school for looking different, and when the professor convinced me to read it aloud, afterwards half the class was crying and the other half looked like someone had kicked their puppy, but you were just sitting there with this tiny little smile on your Gottverdammten face."
Gilbert's lips twitched upwards, though his eyes stayed down. "And after class I stalked up to you and demanded what the hell your fucking problem was, and you just gave me that little, mysterious smile and asked me out for coffee.
"And I was about to say no, what the fuck was wrong with you, but then somebody bumped into you and knocked your books out of your arms, and you started yelling at them in German and they scrambled to their feet and ran away with this look on their face like they were going to piss themselves with fear, and I was clutching my sides with laughter, and when you finally calmed down and turned to me to apologize I changed my mind and said yes. Best damn decision I ever made in my life.
"I just..." Gilbert was smiling softly as he plucked at Ludwig's shirt, not meeting his eyes. "I don't think you understand just how much you mean to me. How much you've done for me. Because I swear the world became technicolor after the first time you full-out smiled at me, and you let me sob my heart out into your shirt until it was soaked and then you made me really happy by taking it off and then not putting it back on for like an hour while you waited for it to dry.
"And you had my order memorized after two coffee dates, and you let me talk at you till my tongue goes numb and you somehow amazingly never seem to get annoyed at me for it, and you say the sweetest things and sheiße are you a fantastic kisser, and I love the way you scare people and one day you'll be yelling at someone for being late to class or for falling asleep during a lecture but then the next day you'll be helping them with their math homework.
"I love that you enjoy cooking and cleaning, and that you wear that ridiculous, frilly pink apron I gave you as a joke that I never actually ever expected you to wear, but it was the best thing ever when you did, and you were all nonchalant about it too when I looked at you in shock and said in disbelief, 'You're actually wearing that thing?' and you were just like, 'What? You gave it to me, didn't you? And it's a functional apron. Why wouldn't I wear it?'" A laugh.
Gilbert was smiling down at his pale hands twisting in his lap. "And I love how nerdy you are and your strange obsession working out at the gym that I am definitely not complaining about. And I love the way you stare at the boring night sky like it's one of the most fascinating things in the world."
He'd glance over at Ludwig, who was watching him attentively, then immediately away, fighting down embarrassment. "I love the way you always lick off the melted ice cream that drips over my fingers, and the way you kick me out of the bedroom at 7:30 sharp every morning because you need to make the bed, and the way you come into the bathroom and steal my toothpaste for yourself when I'm trying to brush my teeth, and the way you spend forever in front of the mirror each morning slicking back your hair but let me mess it up for you when we're getting ready to fall asleep, and the way you always remember where I left my keys and the way you kiss me whenever I say something weird that doesn't really make sense and these are probably the most stupid and cliché reasons to be in love ever, but you're still smiling at me so I guess it's okay?"
Gilbert finally paused for breath, teeth worrying at his lower lip, barely daring to look at his lover's face.
And then there was an arm around his waist and he was suddenly pulled onto Ludwig's chest. He yelped, eyes widening as he looked down at the other man, saying, "Hey! What the hell was that for?"
Ludwig just stared up at him. A blush started creeping up Gilbert's cheeks, and he looked away again. "Well if you're not going to say anyth—oi!" he jerked as he felt a kiss on his nose, and he looked down in surprise at the smug Ludwig.
Raising his torso slightly off the ground, Ludwig kissed him again, this time on the corner of the mouth.
"I love you, too," Ludwig said, eyes full of stars, face full of earnestness.
The blush was creeping strong along Gilbert's face, but he managed to snark out a, "What? I give you an entire epic monologue and all you have to say in response is four words?"
Ludwig rolled them over so he was straddling Gilbert's waist, peppering lazy kisses along the other man's jaw. "You know I'm not very good with words," he murmured.
Gilbert hummed, relaxing under Ludwig's ministrations, tilting his head back to allow better access. "What about the story about the dog you never had?"
"A rare exception," came the low reply, accompanied by a small nip of teeth and a soothing tongue. "I'm a man of action first and foremost, I assure you."
"Oh?" Gilbert asked, wiggling his eyebrows and grinning, laughing when Ludwig rubbed their noses together. "Show me, then."
"Not here." Ludwig stood up, making Gilbert gasp from the sudden absence of body heat, but when he offered a hand to pull Gilbert to his feet he took it.
"Let's go inside," Ludwig said. "My back is soaked with dew."
"Yeah, mine too," Gilbert laughed, grinning and poking the other man in the side. "No thanks to you. Rhyme not intended!"
Ludwig raised an eyebrow.
"Just kidding, rhyme totally intended," Gilbert amended, smirk curling his lips.
Ludwig chuckled, and the two of them turned to leave the park, but not before one of them kissed the other, though neither could of told you who initiated it.
They walked back to their shared apartment hand-in-hand, stars twinkling unnoticed in the dark expanse of firmament above them.
Later that night, Gilbert laid his head on Ludwig's bare chest, content and relaxed, their legs intertwined, fingers rubbing idle patterns on an iron pendant warmed by skin.
Ba-dumm.
Ba-dumm.
You're mine.
I'm yours.
You're mine.
Gilbert closed his eyes and smiled.
END.
AN: Ba-dumm is one of the German onomatopoeias for a heart beating. Along with bumm bumm and poch poch. (In English we usually use thump thump, ba boom, ba bump, or lub-dub.) Check out the Wikipedia webpage for Cross-linguistic onomatopoeias! It's really interesting :)
O-type stars are very hot and extremely luminous, with most of their radiated output in the ultraviolet range, though to the human eye they appear blue. These are the rarest of all main-sequence stars.
The information on the Iron Cross came from the Encyclopædia Britannica website.
The song "Technicolor Beat" by Oh Wonder was mood inspiration for this drabble. Beautiful song. I highly recommend it.
Someone remind me that the next time I write a GerPru drabble, I need to write it from Ludwig's point of view, lol. I keep doing Gilbert's.