A/N - YES! Finally, I can update! I tried to upload this last night, but FFN must have had some sort of problem because it was rejecting my document. I worked extra hard on editing this because I've noticed that there are often a lot of typos in my work, and since I made so many when I was first writing this (there were some hilarious confusions of Gilbert and Gilbird) I proofread it more carefully than normal, which I hope will make the reading experience better for you :) Anyway, here you go, enjoy it!
Roderich wondered idly whether he should be worried that, right now, he was actually rather glad to be wearing a dress. He shifted the shears in his grasp and snipped through a couple more of the branches that were marring the smoothness of the hedge. The second day of The Week From Hell was unusually warm and promised that summer was just around the corner. Roderich was currently feeling guilty about enjoying how the cool breeze felt against his bare legs, although he supposed that he sort of made up for this by the way his whole body tensed in terror every time a particularly strong gust of wind blew, causing his skirt to flutter dangerously about his thighs. The possibility of it flying up wouldn't have scared him so much if he had been left alone to work in the garden, but Gilbert was also outside, sitting on the lawn behind him and possibly watching him, willing for the wind to blow harder, or possibly not. Not being able to see the other nation was making Roderich paranoid.
Taking a moment to give himself a rest from the monotonous afctivity of trimming the hedge, Roderich turned to steal a glance at the other nation. Gilbert was sitting on a blanket that had been spread out on the grass and appeared to be…having a tea party with his chick? Roderich stared openly as Gilbert poured some iced tea into a saucer and placed it in front of the little bird, who didn't seem to quite grasp the concept of tea and, instead of drinking it, hopped onto the saucer and paddled happily in the liquid. Roderich was sure that the chick hadn't been there when he had given in to Gilbert's demands for food and drink and laid out a miniature picnic for him. That was the moment when Gilbert looked up and caught Roderich staring at him in bewilderment.
"Hey, stop slacking off!" he called over, clearly enjoying the power he had over Roderich. "I know it's hard for you to tear your eyes away from my stunning good looks, but –"
"Gilbert, when did you bring your pet onto my property?" Roderich interrupted. Gilbert looked offended.
"Gilbird isn't a pet," he corrected. "He's my friend. And I didn't bring him here – he came to find me because he missed me." Gilbird made a small cheeping noise and both nations turned to watch him splash about in his saucer for a moment.
"You gave him tea," Roderich observed dryly.
"Gilbird likes tea," Gilbert explained. Roderich tried not to wince as drops of the beverage flecked onto the blanket.
"So he does," he agreed wearily. "Just not in the conventional way."
"He also likes your Apfelstrudel," Gilbert added as an afterthought. "But he says that it would have been way better if I'd made it." He turned to pout at Roderich, who was wondering whether to ask if Gilbert really believed that he could understand the chick. He decided not to. He was afraid that the answer might make him doubt Gilbert's sanity more than he already did.
It seemed that Gilbert was still sulking about his interrupted cooking lesson the day before. When he had finally given up – no, sorry, made a 'tactical retreat' – and left Elizabeta to gleefully escape with the camera still in her possession, he had been very upset to discover the strudel fully made and cooling on the kitchen counter. He had become so stroppy, in fact, that Roderich had made a fuss over the large, purple bruise on his arm in order to placate him. The story behind it seemed to involve a frying pan being used as a discus, although the mystery of how Elizabeta had acquired said pan had yet to be solved. Roderich was sure that it had still been in his kitchen when the other two were running around the garden, and yet somehow it had ended up lodged in his flower bed. He supposed he ought to be content to count his blessings that it hadn't damaged the tulips.
Sighing and ignoring the put-out expression on Gilbert's face, he turned back to the hedge and continued to slice through the offending branches. He had been working for a good amount of the afternoon by now and the hedge had nearly been tamed. There was, however, a problem that Roderich had noticed. How would he be able to -? At that moment, the strong gust of wind that Roderich had been dreading decided to initiate a surprise attack and he was forced to grab at his dress in a somewhat successful attempt to keep himself decent. He heard Gilbert let out a wolf whistle and turned to glare at him as the breeze died down, although he didn't let go of the skirt, just in case.
"I'm never going to forgive you for this," he said, but Gilbert just laughed in response.
"You don't have to," he replied. "Either way, I'm going to treasure the memories of this week for the rest of my life." His grin widened as Roderich nervously let go of the edge of the skirt. "Want me to come and hold that down for you?" he purred, which Roderich translated to 'want me to put my hand on your ass?'
"I'd prefer it if you didn't," he replied, threading a hint of 'or else' into his tone.
Thankfully, Gilbert seemed content to stay where he was, and so Roderich was able to work in peace for another twenty minutes or so, listening idly to the one-sided conversation that Gilbert was having with his chick. He seemed to assume that the bird agreed with everything he was saying, which rather eased Roderich's concerns for his mental health because nobody could possibly find Gilbert's ideas reasonable, not even a bird. He supposed that it was just one of the other nation's many eccentricities.
Snip. Another branch fell to the ground and Roderich suddenly found that he now had no choice but to confront his problem, which was simply that the hedge was quite a bit taller than him. He raised himself onto his tiptoes and stretched his arms up, trying to reach the highest branches and praying that the wind would behave. The tips of the shears scraped uselessly at the bottom of the branch he was aiming for, and Roderich sighed in defeat and lowered himself down to stand at his usual height. There was no way he would be able to finish his task. A burst of laughter from behind him made him turn to see Gilbert watching Gilbird with amusement. The chick had slipped and fallen on the saucer and was now coated in the sticky tea, flapping its wings pathetically as it tried to get to its feet. Eventually Gilbert took pity on it and reached out to pull it upright, patting it on the head as if to try and console it after its embarrassing incident.
Looking up, Gilbert was surprised to see Roderich standing in front of him, empty-handed as he had left the shears at the foot of the hedge. Gilbert hadn't heard him approach, and looked past him to see if he had finished, but there was still a strip of untidy growths that ran along the top couple of inches of the hedge.
"I need your help," Roderich said, sounding as if it pained him to admit it. "I can't reach the last few branches." Gilbert raised an eyebrow.
"Don't you own a stepladder?" he asked. Roderich shook his head.
"The usual gardener is taller than me, and before you ask, no, I'm not going to stand on any sort of furniture. I don't want my chairs getting dirty." He sounded very firm on this point and so Gilbert didn't even bother trying to argue. Besides, this was a perfect situation to take advantage of and he would be a fool if he passed up this opportunity.
"OK, I'll do it for you," he said, and grinned as he noted Roderich's wary expression. "But only if you give me a kiss." Roderich looked halfway between exasperated and embarrassed.
"Can't you just do me this one favour without any strings attached?" he almost pleaded.
"Now why would I do that?" Gilbert asked, leaning back on his hands and stretching out his legs, making it clear that he wouldn't be doing anything unless Roderich agreed to his demands. He almost missed the glint in the other nation's eye at his words.
"Out of the goodness of your heart?" Roderich suggested, and Gilbert would have snorted at the ludicrousness of the words if he hadn't been so distracted by the change in the other nation's voice. It was softer and lower than normal, and it was making odd things happen in Gilbert's stomach. He watched wordlessly as Roderich slowly knelt and crawled towards him, never breaking the eye contact that had suddenly become far more intense.
"Please, Gilbert," Roderich said in that same sensual tone, drawing out Gilbert's name as if he didn't want it to part with his tongue. Gilbert unconsciously sat up straighter; his whole focus was now on Roderich and the rest of the world had become a dull, forgotten blur at the edge of his vision. He was incredibly aware that his heart was pounding against his ribcage and the smallest details of the scene were suddenly crystal clear to him: the almost-silent rustle of fabric as Roderich moved, the touch of the other nation's hand brushing against his thigh, and the exact shade of Roderich's imploring eyes. The focus of Gilbert's attention stopped in front of him, his head tilted up at an angle so that he could look Gilbert in the eye.
"Please help me," he pleaded softly, and Gilbert shivered as a hand ghosted up over his chest, barely touching him but leaving a trail of tingling heat in its wake until it stopped to hover over his heart. He tried to lean into the touch, but the hand moved with him, maintaining its tantalising yet frustrating distance from his body and allowing him to further lessen the close proximity between himself and the personification of all his most carnal desires. Roderich didn't back away but suddenly fingers were moulding themselves against Gilbert' chest and he was being gently but firmly pushed back a little.
"You won't take advantage of me, right?" Roderich asked, his eyes wide and filled with an innocent trust that struck something within Gilbert that overpowered his lust. Chivalry was a word that the Prussian was familiar with but had never bothered to put into practice, yet something about the note of pleading in Roderich's voice and the look in his eyes, which made Gilbert feel as if Roderich needed him and him alone, awakened instincts that usually lay dormant inside him. Perhaps the presence of a dress also helped, because there's nothing like a damsel in distress to activate the hero gene in a man. Either way, it was suddenly taking all of Gilbert's willpower to not just get up and finish the hedge, because he felt strangely as though he would be satisfied if all he got in return was a smile and a thank you. Thankfully, his stubborn streak was far too strong to be swayed (much) by Roderich's surprisingly effective manipulation techniques.
"No, I –" he tried to say, but Roderich's face fell into an expression of disappointment and he bit his lip in a way that shouldn't be legal, damnit! Gilbert closed his eyes to block out the sight that was close to making him feel guilty – guilty! Him! A small amount of horror broke through the haze of unselfish thoughts and spurred him on to continue: "I said a kiss and I'm not changing my mind!" There was silence for a moment and then Gilbert heard a sigh.
"Fine, you win," Roderich said grudgingly in his normal voice, and when Gilbert opened his eyes he saw that the other nation's expression had changed to one of defeat. "I nearly did though." Gilbert felt a wave of relief sweep over him and he grinned triumphantly, regaining some of the self-control he had been so close to losing.
"No way! You'll never defeat the awesome me," he crowed. "Nobody is greater than me when it comes to…uh…" He trailed off as Roderich slid one of his legs forward to press against Gilbert's thigh, angling his hips in a way that revealed a lot of bare skin underneath the skirt. He removed his glasses and let them fall onto the blanket beneath them as he slid his other hand up from its resting place on Gilbert's chest to curl around the back of his neck.
"Shut up," he murmured, and moved forward, angling his head to bring their mouths together. The first touch was barely a brush of Roderich's lips against his, yet the contact made Gilbert shiver delightedly. When Roderich pressed the tiniest bit harder again him, kissing him as gently and chastely as possible, it only served to make Gilbert want him even more. Reaching up a hand to cup the back of Roderich's head, Gilbert pressed more deeply into the kiss and was rewarded by Roderich parting his lips slightly, inviting Gilbert to invade his mouth. Gilbert happily obliged. The slick heat of Roderich's mouth was something that he had been craving, and now that he was no longer denied entrance, he greedily gave in to his desires, tugging at Roderich's hair to move his head farther back and eliciting a moan in the process. When Roderich finally pulled away, Gilbert took one look at his flushed face and tried to move in for another kiss, but a couple of fingers pressed against his lips, stopping him.
"Now you're being greedy," Roderich said a little breathlessly. "You asked for a kiss and I – ah…" His breath hitched as Gilbert sucked the fingers from his lips into his mouth, sliding his tongue along them, his gaze locked on Roderich's and his eyes full of promises. Roderich pulled his fingers free and sat back, hoping that putting some distance between them would slow down his furious pulse.
"D-Don't –" he tried, and barely had time to inwardly wince at the stutter before Gilbert was right there in front of him, a hand on his hip and a mouth by his ear.
"Let me make you beg me again," he breathed, "and this time I'll give you whatever you want." Despite the heat of the day, Roderich felt chills run through him and it was so tempting to just give in to what his body wanted, but it was only the second day of the week and he wasn't that easy, damnit. Now it was Roderich's turn to muster all of the willpower he possessed and firmly push Gilbert away from him.
"In that case, go and trim my hedge," he ordered, trying to make his resolve sound stronger than it really was. Gilbert's expression became one of disbelief and disappointment.
"Seriously?" he asked, as if he hadn't even considered that Roderich might reject him. This annoyed the shorter nation a little, making it much easier to stand by his decision. "You know, you don't have to play hard to get if you don't want to. I won't mind."
"The shears are over there," Roderich said pointedly, gesturing towards the hedge and picking up his glasses to place back on his nose. Gilbert sighed but didn't try to push things any further.
"Fine, fine," he said, getting to his feet. "I said I'd do it so I'll do it. You just sit your pretty little ass down there and try not to be too overwhelmed by my awesomeness." He flicked Mariazell lightly as he passed, and Roderich moved further onto the blanket, suddenly grateful for the rest after standing up for so long.
Before too long, the only sounds were the rustling of the plants in the light breeze and the snips of the shears cutting methodically through the branches at the top of the hedge. Roderich sipped from a cup of iced tea and couldn't help but take advantage of Gilbert's turned back to stare at the other nation's body. It was a very nice body. Roderich could happily stare at it all day. He was distracted from it, however, as he felt a small tugging at his dress. Looking down, he found a tea-soaked Gilbird attempting to climb onto his lap. Roderich gently cupped the chick in his hands and picked it up. It nestled contentedly in his palms and cheeped softly. It was rather adorable, even though its feathers were sticky and starting to clump together a little.
"You need a bath," Roderich muttered to it and wondered whether talking to a bird made him just as crazy as he often suspected Gilbert to be. The chick ruffled its wings and tilted its head, eliciting a small smile from Roderich, which disappeared the next moment as a string of curses made him look up in surprise. Gilbert was no longer holding the shears and even from this distance, Roderich could see the bright red blood pooling in the palm of his hand. Without tearing his eyes from the other nation, he tipped Gilbird back onto the blanket and hurriedly moved to Gilbert's side.
"What did you do?" he asked worriedly, startling Gilbert a little as he took the injured hand and examined it.
"I dropped the shears and the fucking things slashed me!" Gilbert replied, glaring at the object that had attacked him. He winced a little as Roderich wiped away some of the blood to try and gauge how deep the cut was. It looked shallow, but the sharp blade must have nicked a vein because there was a lot of blood seeping out of the wound.
"You'll live," Roderich diagnosed and tugged on Gilbert's arm to get him to move. "Come on, I'll put a bandage on it."
"Are you sure it doesn't need stitches?" Gilbert asked, letting Roderich lead him towards the house. "Those things were trying to kill me! I could bleed to death!" Roderich snorted.
"Don't be such a baby," he said, stepping out of the sunlight and into the house. "And try not to bleed on my carpet."
Ignoring Gilbert's grumbling, Roderich led the way to the bathroom that contained the first aid kit. He turned on one of the taps in the sink and held Gilbert's injured hand under it, rubbing the water up to the skin that the flow couldn't reach.
"Keep your hand there," he instructed, reaching up to the medical cabinet on the wall and retrieving a roll of bandages and a tube of antiseptic cream. Tearing off a length of the bandage, he turned off the tap and gently patted Gilbert's hand dry before applying the cream.
"That stings," Gilbert complained, twitching his fingers a little.
"I know," Roderich replied soothingly, "but it'll stop it from getting infected." He wrapped the bandage around Gilbert's hand a few times, careful not to make it too tight, before securing it in place. "There," he concluded. "Please try and be more careful in future. Sometimes I think that I spend half my life patching you up after you've hurt yourself." He looked up when Gilbert didn't reply and was startled to see that the other nation was watching him intensely, a serious expression on his face.
"It's still bleeding," Gilbert said. "I can feel it." Roderich was about to reply and point out that yes, of course it wouldn't heal instantly, but the injured hand was suddenly in front of his face. "Kiss it better?" Gilbert requested, smiling innocently. Roderich stared at him.
"What are you, a child?" he asked. "My kisses don't have magical properties."
"Anything that shuts me up has magical properties," Gilbert countered, grinning because he knew that there was no argument to that. Roderich sighed and pressed a gentle kiss to the bandaged palm.
"How's that?" he asked, a little self-conscious under Gilbert's unwavering gaze. The other nation seemed to take the question seriously and examined his hand before smiling at Roderich again, which struck the brunet as strange because it was a softer expression than the usual mischievous grins and leers that habitually adorned his features.
"It's stopped bleeding altogether," he proclaimed. "You've healed it." Roderich wondered if he had somehow fallen into an alternative universe. Gilbert was being sweet to him. Gilbert was never sweet!
"That's impossible," he protested weakly because he didn't know how to deal with such an alien situation, although he couldn't deny that he liked this odd change in attitude.
A quiet cheeping from the doorway caused both nations to turn. Gilbird hopped into the room and onto Gilbert's shoe, fluttering its wings and pecking at the leather. Gilbert's face brightened into his usual grin.
"Gilbird!" he exclaimed, as if he hadn't seen the chick for years. He picked it up and watched happily as it started to make its way along his arm, not seeming to mind as its feet gripped at his bare skin for purchase. The sound of running water distracted him and he looked over to see that Roderich had plugged the sink and was filling it with warm water.
"What are you doing?" he asked in confusion. Roderich turned off the taps and plucked Gilbird from the other nation's arm, depositing him in the shallow bath he had created.
"Cleaning off the tea," he replied. "I'm sure he doesn't appreciate having sticky feathers." Gilbird clearly approved of the idea and was splashing about gleefully in the water as Roderich rubbed gently at its feathers.
"Don't blame me; he's the one who used my generous offer of tea as a paddling pool," Gilbert replied. He watched as Roderich struggled to keep the chick still for long enough to properly clean it. "You like him, don't you?" he asked accusingly.
"He's certainly a lot less troublesome than you," Roderich responded. "Are you jealous?"
"Hell yes I'm jealous! You never give me baths!" Gilbert replied, pouting as he watched Gilbird. He blinked as a light spray of water hit him in the face and Roderich laughed at his stunned expression and flicked his wet fingers at the blond nation again.
"There you go, now stop complaining," he said, but Gilbert reached past him and dipped his own fingers in the water. "Don't you dare!" He grabbed Gilbert's wrist as the other nation struggled to break free and get his revenge.
"You sprayed me first!" Gilbert protested, but then Gilbird decided to join in and flapped its wings, showering both nations with a light spray of water, causing Roderich to let go and cup the overexcited bird in his hands to make it stop. He flinched as an unexpected flick of water hit him on the neck.
"Gotcha." Gilbert grinned victoriously. Roderich rolled his eyes.
"You're so childish," he said, but his lips were twitching as if he wanted to smile. Gilbert adorned an affronted expression.
"You started it!" he protested. Roderich didn't bother to argue back and lifted Gilbird out of the water, laying a towel out on the floor and kneeling to dry the chick.
"You don't have to finish trimming the hedge today if your hand still hurts," he spoke up suddenly, not pausing or looking up from his task. Gilbert flexed his fingers experimentally.
"It feels fine," he replied, which wasn't entirely true, but compared to some of the injuries he had sustained in the past, a minor cut like this was nothing. He reached down and plucked a clean and incredibly fluffy Gilbird from the towel and placed it on his shoulder, where it settled comfortably into its usual spot.
Outside in the sunlight, Roderich regained his seat on the blanket and Gilbert dropped the chick down next to him. It hopped onto Roderich's lap and Gilbert frowned at it.
"Hey, hands off my maid," he ordered, trying to push it back onto the ground, but Roderich knocked his hand away and pulled the small bird back to a more stable position on his thighs. Gilbert pouted. "You two are getting far too close," he said suspiciously, and suddenly thrust an accusing finger into Roderich's face. "Are you having an affair with Gilbird behind my back?" Roderich was torn between laughing at Gilbert's serious expression and calling the closest mental institute. Eventually, he decided to humour the other nation.
"What would you do if I was?" he asked, mock defiantly. Gilbert grinned.
"If that's the case then I'll be having roast chick for dinner tonight," he replied. Roderich hit him lightly.
"Gilbert! That's a horrible thing to say!" Gilbird seemed to agree with this and buried its face in Roderich's dress. Gilbert laughed and patted it on the head.
"I'm just kidding, idiot," he said to it. "But seriously: hands off." Roderich watched in exasperated amusement as he strode off towards the hedge. The chick fluttered about on his lap and Roderich reached absentmindedly to pet it, but it hopped back out of his reach and glanced round at Gilbert before looking up at Roderich again and cheeping nervously. Roderich stared at it. It couldn't possibly have understood Gilbert's words…could it?
"Don't worry, he won't mind," he murmured, reaching out again slowly, and this time the chick let him stroke its feathered head. "Gilbert would never hurt you," he continued, not sure whether the bird could understand him or not, but certain that, either way, it would never be able to repeat his words to anyone else. "Besides," – he glanced up at Gilbert, who was completing his task without any signs of pain – "he knows that, for this week at least, I don't belong to anyone but him."
A/N - You see the rating? See how it's an M? ...look forward to the next chapter XD