Gilbert broke his promise about Ludwig and Arthur feeling well the morning after. It wasn't like the German remembered much of last night anyway, mainly because he was more concerned about the pounding headache he woke up to. The intrusive sunlight that poked through the blue curtains, shone on his screwed up expression. One eye opened slightly before Ludwig couldn't tolerate the beam and placed his hand in front of his face for protection. Why did he have to sleep on the side nearest to the window anyway he thought to himself? His stomach sickly swam as he attempted to face the light without the aid of his hands. At least Ludwig's reaction to the morning improved just a fraction and managed to squint with both eyes. With his splitting headache and the pain stabbing his stomach, he wished he could call in sick. However, he couldn't afford to skip the second day of the conference meeting because he was the host. Shit. His body felt so heavy that he wondered whether he could even drag himself out of bed. Wait, how did he manage to get himself from the bar back to his bed last night? At least Ludwig was grateful he had enough strength to haul himself there instead of crashing onto the sofa. He would have felt sorer than he already was at present. Bringing his tortured mind back on the subject about the conference meeting, he gasped in panic and darted his eyes to the digital alarm clock on his bedside table. 9:30am. Any normal human being (and some of the other nations) would have no chance waking up to a hangover before midday, let alone half past nine in the morning. But because this was Ludwig, his biological clock wouldn't allow it since the meeting was due to start at eleven 'o' clock sharp. Not wanting to waste any time, he turned and shook a human sized lump hidden underneath the white blanket.
"Feliciano! Vake up! Ve're going to be late if you don't get up now!" Ludwig yanked the blanket off the figure. But instead of finding the Italian, his eyes widened with horror to the blonde haired Englishman who hugged the German's left arm.
"I wanna ride the pretty pink pony…" He mumbled in his sleep. Ludwig all at once roared at the top of his voice, waking Arthur from his dream. "Shut the fucking light up!" The Briton snarled as his arm lazily grabbed as much of the blanket he could gather and pulled it over his head. After realising how loud his screech was, Ludwig cringed at the migraine his loud volume intensified.
"Vhat are you doing in my bed!" The German tried to speak without triggering another sharp pain, as he drew the blanket off Arthur.
"What are you doing my bed? Now get lost! I've got a headache!" He groaned jerking the cover over himself again. It was shocking to Ludwig how Arthur seemed to be more concerned about battling the pains of a hangover, than the fact that he woke up next to the personification of Germany of all people.
"Zis isn't a game of who zhe fick's in who's bed!" Ludwig shouted as he struggled to heave his painful self upright, as did Arthur. "Do you remember anysing from last night?"
"Not a bloody clue," He winced as he clutched onto his whirling head. "I suppose you don't know either?"
"Nein," The German looked down until his face pricked up apprehensively. Why was his own chest bare? Ludwig quickly lifted the blanket only to thump it down on his thigh. His cheeks suddenly flared a deep shade of red. "Please tell me you're vearing your undervear."
Arthur's eyebrows lifted and checked under the covers to see whether his waist was 'exposed'. "I've got my boxers on if that's what you're asking." But the German still felt uneasy as he only managed to notice some white, creamy splodges on Arthur's chest as well as his own.
"Arsur," Ludwig's voice wavered. He daren't touch the substance on his skin. "Please, please don't tell me ve didn't do vhat I sink ve've done." The Briton looked down on his chest and scooped some of the sticky substance onto his fingers. He briefly leant over the side of the bed before turning back to his fingers. Hegulped for a moment before he did the one thing that repulsed Ludwig. He licked his index finger. While he inspected the taste, many panicky things flew across the German's mind since teaching Italy about throwing grenades. They really didn't take part in a drunken orgy did they? How much did they drink last night? What else don't they remember doing? Questions like these drove Ludwig more into a panic. If the other nations knew about their activities of last night, neither of them would be able to live it down or be taken seriously ever again. Well, Arthur was never taken seriously in the first place but Ludwig's reputation would fall down the drain and-
"It's yoghurt," Arthur said.
The German returned to the situation at hand and looked at the Englishman quizzically. "Vhat?"
"We're covered in vanilla yoghurt," Arthur repeated and hung over the bed once more before reverting to his upright position again. This time he held a blue yoghurt pot in each hand, both of them empty with a few traces of the substance around the inside and the rim. Somehow the news didn't ease Ludwig one bit. He needed some concrete confirmation of what happened the night before; the reason why he found Arthur and himself in bed almost completely naked (or in Ludwig's case, fully exposed) smothered in yoghurt. Suddenly the door burst open and a new voice grated both the nation's ears.
"Morning ladies!" Both countries grimaced to the sheer volume of the greeting. Once the pain subsided, they turned and glared at a fully dressed Gilbert Beilschmidt leaning casually against the door frame.
"Not so loud Gilbert," Ludwig rubbed his forehead. "I've got a splitting headache."
"Oh so sorry little bruder," The albino said in an uncaring tone. "I sought you said you'd only have vone pint of beer. But zen you changed your mind and glugged down zhe ozer half of zhe tray vith Arsur. I sought you'd be more sensible zan zat bruder, especially since you have a conference to go to in a few hours."
"Gilbert, I demand an explanation now. Vhat happened last night?" Ludwig seethed through his teeth which provoked a cackle from the Prussian.
"Oh you two were hilarious last night! If only everyone else hadn't had left early. Zen zey vould have gotten the date for your vedding!"
"Vedding?" The dread continued to mount up in Ludwig.
"I remember discussing no such thing!" Arthur protested.
"Not even the big, puffy, white dress with the long trail? You two vere practically shouting it to zhe vorld! I've got zhe video and everysing!" Gilbert smirked.
"Video?" As soon as the word cropped up, Ludwig and Arthur knew something bad was going to come out from it.
"Ja!" The Prussian whipped out his camera phone from his trouser pocket and scrolled down the menu on the screen. "Who knew drunk Ludvig and Arsur could be so fun to vatch? Oh, here it is!" Gilbert stepped into the bedroom and showed the screen to the two nations at arms length. Both of them swore the albino turned up the volume on his phone on purpose. The audio that entered their ears and the film that played mortified them to say the least.
"Oh Asur, you've got some yoghurt on your cheek. Let me lick it off for you."
"Whoops! Oh dear Ludwig. It looks like I've spilt some on you love."
"Ah-ha! Zat tickles!"
"Just relax will you? I'm trying to clean you up. Oh God, why do you taste so good?"
"I could ask you zhe same question. Mmmm… you're so delicious Arsur I could eat you all up."
"Oh Ludwig you're so tasty. God you taste so sweet. I don't know why anyone would want to let you go…"
"I want you so bad Arsur… I…"
"Kesese, this is going on my awesome blog!"
When the video finished, both Ludwig and Arthur's expressions could only be described as pure horror. Both their mouths gaped and their eyes didn't even blink. There were only two things that rushed through their minds; the first was the undeniable disbelief that they smothered each other in vanilla yoghurt and licked it off each other in a seductive manner. The second was that Gilbert had managed to film every moment of their drunken romance and they didn't even retaliate. Once they bought themselves back to reality, Gilbert was met with the glares of death. This gave him a signal to run as fast as he could but the German's hand clasped tightly around his wrist before he could make his getaway.
"Arthur! Grab his phone!" Ludwig barked as the Englishman wasted no time launching himself out of the blankets and diving into Gilbert with a force that knocked him down on his back.
"Get off my awesome self! You're getting yoghurt all over me!" The Prussian yelled as he wrestled with Arthur's flurry of grabbing hands.
"I'll get off you when you give me your bloody phone, you wanker!" The Briton's limbs clambered over Gilbert, who furiously waved the device just to make it difficult for him to grab. Both pairs of arms swayed rapidly and neither one was going to back down easily. Ludwig knew he had to give Arthur the upper hand.
"Arsur! Poke him in zhe ribs! He's ticklish zhere!"
"Ludwig you traitor! Now zat's un-ha ha! Stop it! It tickles!" The Prussian laughed and squirmed under the Briton's weight.
"So, the great Prussia is ticklish in the ribs? How amusing," Arthur smirked. "If I had known that in my pirating days, I would have given you no mercy."
"Ha ha ha ha! S-s-s-stop! Ha ha ha ha ha- fuck off Arsur! AAARRGH!" Gilbert cried out a sound between a laugh and a scream as he lowered his arms to defend his chest. This was the chance Arthur had hoped for and prized the phone off the albino's clinging fingers.
"Ludwig! Catch!" The Englishman lobbed the phone in the German's direction. Unfortunately, the throw seemed off and Ludwig's reactions weren't quick enough to grab the phone mid-air. In desperation, he nearly threw himself off the bed in a last bid to catch the phone but before he knew it, crash! The phone hit the wooden floor hard. Everyone froze for a second until Gilbert shoved Arthur off himself and scrambled to his feet in a desperate bid to reach his phone. Ludwig wanted to jump out of bed to snatch the phone away but he felt too self-conscious being naked. Gilbert scooped the phone into his hands and jabbed his finger at the touch screen.
"You ficken bastards! The screen has a crack and now I can't get it to work! You've broken it you bastards!" He screeched at the top of his voice. Arthur and Ludwig breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that the video would never get to see the light of day. The German raised an alleviated smile and turned his head towards the Englishman when the time on the clock caught his eyes. 10:00am.
"Scheiße!" Ludwig shot out and clambered over the bed to grab a pair of underwear from the bedside drawer while glaring at the Englishman. "Get up Arsur! Ve have to get ready and get to zhe building in vone hour!"
!
Throughout the meeting, Ludwig tried to avoid eye contact with Arthur. After ridding themselves of the yoghurt on their skin, scouring the house for their lost clothes, escaping from Gilbert's wrath over his mobile phone, Arthur demanding to go back to his hotel to change into some clean clothes and Ludwig's unusually erractic driving skills which nearly caused an accident; they barely made it to the meeting on time. To make the situation more awkward than it was, they burst through the door to the entrance room at the same time, earning themselves some questioning looks from the other nations and same perverse comments from Francis. Anyone who had the ability of sensing the mood found it odd how Ludwig felt more uncomfortable during the meeting than he did yesterday. Even if they did manage to destroy all the incriminating evidence of their activities last night, both Arthur and Ludwig swore never to mention the brief drunken romance. But they also made Gilbert swear he won't breathe a word about the night before (not unless he wanted his secret stash of beer and Gilbird to be held hostage).
When the end of the meeting finally came, Ludwig felt alleviated knowing he managed to keep up appearances of being a good host, despite going through two terrible days. Now he can concentrate on recovering from his break up with Kiku and have some time to himself to relax. He began listing the things he could do when an obnxious voice interrupted his train of thought.
"So, 'ow is your 'eadache Ludwig?" The German recognised the nasal accent and turned to find Francis radiating one of his supposed flashing smiles.
"Vhat do vant Francis?" He moaned apprehensively.
"Aaw, that's not a nice way to speak to someone 'oo is merely concerned pour vous," The Frenchman was clearly mocking Ludwig. If they weren't in an important place, Ludwig would have thrown his fist at Francis' nose. "I 'eard from your brother about your alcohol fuelled night with Artur and he specifically asked me to see whether you were alright."
Ludwig stopped and glared at Francis. "Vhat did he tell you?" He growled.
"He told me nothing," The Frenchman twirled one of his blonde curls and pulled his cell phone out of his white trouser pocket. "But he did show me your pitiful state from last night. Apparement there was something very wrong with the both of you and after you drunk so much, you two shared a very intimate moment together."
"You have no proof of zat!" Ludwig snapped as his hands tightened into fists.
"Oh non? Then 'ow do you explain the lovely couple here?" Francis pressed a few buttons on his cell phone before showing it to the German. Ludwig felt everything was spiralling out of control from the moment his eyes met a reminder from last night. How was it even possible that Francis' phone possessed the picture? Gilbert's phone broke this morning. Then he realised that Gilbert must have sent the evidence to him at some point before his phone was flung across the room. His nails dug into the palms of his hands. Next time Ludwig would see his brother he'll wring his neck. But right now, he had to confront Francis.
"You and Arthur do make a lovely couple," The Frenchman commented. "Gilbert told me you two were talking about making plans for a grand wedding. So when is it going to be?"
"Ve vere both drunk!" Ludwig retorted. "Ve didn't know vhat ve vere saying at zhe time!"
"Of course," Francis smirked. "Still, I never knew you 'ad any form of romance in you. Normalement, you're a little frosty towards well, anyone. If only I could 'ave seen your soft side for myself. But if anyone asks whether you can be, 'ow shall I say, romantic; I could just show them the pictures and the video."
"You vouldn't dare!" Ludwig suddenly spat.
"Oh come on Ludwig. You're just as 'ighly strung as Artur. You need to learn to relax and let yourself loose. You may find you'd feel less stressed that way." Francis turned his head away until he let out a chuckle. This made Ludwig feel anxious as the Frenchman flashed him a mischevious smile. "Of course, I can always 'elp you with that... if you want to keep your reputation intact."
Ludwig sensed dread as soon as he saw his expression. Something didn't feel right. "Are you black-mailing me?" He stammered.
"It depends," Francis leered closer to the German. "Let me show you 'ow to really charm anyone and I'll keep quiet about your secret romance with Artur."
Ludwig could not believe that his life had taken a downturn; first Kiku asks to be just friends with him and then go out with Alfred. Then Gilbert recorded evidence of his brief drunken relationship with Arthur and now Francis is black-mailing him using the pictures and video Gilbert had collected. Ludwig never got on with Francis but for him to stoop that low made the German feel nauseous. But Francis always found a way of benefitting from the sidelines and this felt worse than when the Frenchman ordered him to make enough cuckoo clocks to sell and pay off his debt. Ludwig gave a sigh of defeat, knowing that if he refused Francis would most certainly spread the pictures and videos like wildfire.
"Alvight, vhat do you vant me to do?" He grumbled.
"Well I saw something of interest that is supposed to be 'appening on my way 'ere and I wanted someone to accompany me," The Frenchman explained. "No-one seems to be available and as much as I want to go, I do not wish to go alone. You want me to keep the events of last night a secret and I want someone to keep me company at an event tonight. It's a good deal when you think about it." Without any warning, Ludwig felt Francis' arm wrap around his shoulders and squeezed him in a boa constrictor like grip. He wanted to pull away but he felt like he had no choice but to suffer being in contact with him in case Francis thought he was going to refuse.
"So I am going to ask very nicely, will you accompnay me for tonight?" The Frenchman asked sweetly. The tone of voice made Ludwig sick to the stomach. There was no way he would like whatever he was going to get himself into. After all, this was Francis he was talking about, so there was no doubt whatever activity he had planned was going to be perverse. He sighed once again knowing that he would rather keep whatever pride he was supposed to have left after the night before.
"Alvight," Ludwig exhaled. "I'll come attend whatever it is you wanted to do."
"Excellent!" Francis beamed. "I'll let you know where and when to pick me up and I'll give you the directions when we meet face to face."
Ludwig groaned. Whatever he was going to be doing with Francis tonight, he was sure that it won't end well for him.
!
I have been incredibly busy with coursework from college and for the next week or so, I'm going to have to give two presentations for my assignments. So chapter 4 is not going to come anytime soon.
I found it odd how I was able to do a whole sex scene in 'Two Countries, One World', but I felt uncomfortable writing the 'out of context' dialogue for when Ludwig and Arthur smother themselves in yoghurt and lick it off each other. That folks is why I don't think I'll be supporting GerUk anytime soon.
Until then, enjoy this chapter and leave me reviews!