Chapter 1b/9
anonymous
December 30 2011, 23:13:57 UTC
Ludwig twitched. All the way from Beijing to Paris, he had busied himself with fretting about his schedule and the massive amount of changes required due to the pregnancy. It was far less stressful than thinking about the actual baby part of having a baby. With Francis. Who was just as male as he was. Gilbert had once explained that pregnancy was more of a metaphorical than actual biological process for nations, but that was cold comfort with a baby growing somewhere, somehow in his stomach. Ludwig had tried very hard not to think about the mechanics since the utter illogic threatened to send him into a nervous breakdown.
“…but I don’t have the time to have a baby,” he insisted plaintively, as if some higher power could be convinced to slap him on the back and tell him it had all been a belated April’s Fool joke. “I’m busy!”
Francis unfolded himself gracefully from his artful sprawl all over the couch and sauntered towards Ludwig. His smirk softened into a genuine smile as he approached him, still frozen in the same spot in the middle of Francis’ living room. “I hope you realize,” he said softly, “that you have made me the happiest nation in the world.” He hooked his arms loosely around Ludwig’s neck and leant forward ever so slowly to capture his lips in a sweet kiss.
Francis was skilled in every aspect of love from romancing someone to the act itself, but it was rare that they would kiss like this, all affection, no lust. For France being the nation of love, they weren’t a particularly romantic couple. Ludwig felt warmth curl in his belly and spread outwards through his whole body.
Their lips parted with a wet sound and Francis sighed in contentment. “You’re going to be a beautiful mother, my sweet little Ludwig,” he murmured.
That was the point when Ludwig’s face turned an impressive shade of red and he officially resorted to shouting in his native tongue. He even went so far as to channel his best World War Two drill sergeant voice as he berated Francis for everything from his ridiculous sense of fashion to his lack of common sense and Never. Call. Him. Mother. Again.
Francis looked utterly delighted. “You’re already having mood swings!”
Footnotes: Arthur “gloating about Wembley” refers to the Wembley Goal. German and English football fans still haven’t grown tired of arguing whether a goal in the 1966 World Cup final had crossed the line or not. France has one of the highest birth rates in the EU, while Germany has the lowest.
Re: Chapter 1b/9
anonymous
January 1 2012, 11:31:32 UTC
That was the point when Ludwig’s face turned an impressive shade of red and he officially resorted to shouting in his native tongue. He even went so far as to channel his best World War Two drill sergeant voice as he berated Francis for everything from his ridiculous sense of fashion to his lack of common sense and Never. Call. Him. Mother. Again.
I loved everything about this section. Seriously, I thought it was hot. haha, can't wait to see the next section.
Re: Chapter 1b/9
anonymous
January 12 2012, 03:04:14 UTC
I'm a diehard GerIta shipper and I hate mpreg, but damn if I didn't start reading this out of pure curiosity and read until the very ending, guffawing all the way. Well done, anon.
“…but I don’t have the time to have a baby,” he insisted plaintively, as if some higher power could be convinced to slap him on the back and tell him it had all been a belated April’s Fool joke. “I’m busy!”
Francis unfolded himself gracefully from his artful sprawl all over the couch and sauntered towards Ludwig. His smirk softened into a genuine smile as he approached him, still frozen in the same spot in the middle of Francis’ living room. “I hope you realize,” he said softly, “that you have made me the happiest nation in the world.” He hooked his arms loosely around Ludwig’s neck and leant forward ever so slowly to capture his lips in a sweet kiss.
Francis was skilled in every aspect of love from romancing someone to the act itself, but it was rare that they would kiss like this, all affection, no lust. For France being the nation of love, they weren’t a particularly romantic couple. Ludwig felt warmth curl in his belly and spread outwards through his whole body.
Their lips parted with a wet sound and Francis sighed in contentment. “You’re going to be a beautiful mother, my sweet little Ludwig,” he murmured.
That was the point when Ludwig’s face turned an impressive shade of red and he officially resorted to shouting in his native tongue. He even went so far as to channel his best World War Two drill sergeant voice as he berated Francis for everything from his ridiculous sense of fashion to his lack of common sense and Never. Call. Him. Mother. Again.
Francis looked utterly delighted. “You’re already having mood swings!”
Footnotes: Arthur “gloating about Wembley” refers to the Wembley Goal. German and English football fans still haven’t grown tired of arguing whether a goal in the 1966 World Cup final had crossed the line or not.
France has one of the highest birth rates in the EU, while Germany has the lowest.
Reply
"My schedule!"
XD
Reply
Reply
I loved everything about this section. Seriously, I thought it was hot. haha, can't wait to see the next section.
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment