To love, to hold, to fuck things up 3/?
anonymous
April 29 2009, 23:07:30 UTC
"Nowhere!" Oops. Hope Prussia didn't connect the dots, or Romano would be very upset with him.
"But... I do love Germany. Like, really love him, as much as my art or my pasta." He frowned. "But I don't want to make love to my pasta. Hardly ever. I mean, it's different with Germany, but it's just as deep as all the other things I love in my life!"
A large, calloused hand suddenly descended to stroke his hair. Italy froze in sudden fear, but Prussia managed to avoid his 'sensitive' hair. Sheer coincidence, or had someone in the German household figured things out and warned Prussia?
"Italy," his voice was uncharacteristically soft, "if you want my brother, just go for him. You're a cute little guy and he ought to let someone in. Just," Prussia's hand tightened painfully in Italy's hair, "don't ask me for advice in this matter." Slowly, Italy was released. For once, he felt no need to complain excessively, choosing instead to listen for a little while longer.
"I can't help you; probably everyone in the entire bloody world can hep you more than I can. Hah, this is something even France would manage better! Hahahaha-" The laughter suddenly cut off, and Prussia sprang to his feet, eyes aglow and dangerous grin firmly plastered on his face. "Aw, fuck this shit, Italy! You got any booze around?" Then he sauntered off towards the kitchen.
Many little images over the years swirled together, fitting together like when a handful of unassuming herbs and pungent spices come together to create delicious cuisine.
Italy and Germany, celebrating Christmas together. Just the two of them this year, with South Italy safely ensconced at Spain's.
Germany pulling Italy's ass from the fire, saving him again and again, always with a fond smile to spare after the usual scolding.
Prussia, bursting with happiness, proud to show off his newest souvenir from some odd corner of the world.
When looked a little deeper, this dish was a lot less savoury than what was usually created in Italy's house.
Who had Prussia been with? They'd left him in the empty home before heading out for the Christmas market.
Whenever Germany returned from the eastern front, he seemed upset and disappointed. Why couldn't his brother manage even something this simple?
Germany, rolling his eyes and stuffing the new item deep inside a storage room, without even looking at it twice.
But Prussia only laughed like he always did, and perhaps punched Germany's shoulder a little harder than was proper. And Italy? Stood smiling obliviously beside them both.
He followed Prussia. Though Italy's house was old, with both doors and floor-boards creaking and squeaking, Italy knew how to pad soundlessly over oaken planks twisted from age and exactly how much you could open the kitchen door before it made any undue noise.
There was Prussia, drinking amaretto from a water glass and, from the look of it, not particularly enjoying his drink. His back was turned, so Italy slipped close and carefully wrapped his arms around Prussia's middle. The other nation stiffened in his arms, drink nearly touching his lips.
"Forgive me," Italy said.
"Wha- what're you talking about? This shite liquor or what? Certainly deserves some proper excuses, it does." Prussia quickly downed the rest of his drink, but he made no move to escape the soft grip.
"I think, perhaps," he said and pressed his face against the strong back, "that Germany isn't the only one who proposed and was turned down. Maybe Prussia thinks Germany has special reasons not to listen to him in matters of love?"
A heartbeat. Two.
"What the FUCK are you talking about, you cowardly little asswipe?" Prussia showed him away with impressive force and Italy couldn't help but cry out as his back made painful contact with the kitchen bench. Then he was lifted up, until he could feel Prussia's liquour-laced breath on his face, hot and erratic.
"Are you saying that I tried to molest my little brother, huh? If- If you even think for a moment!" He's shaking with fury and his teeth are so close that Italy almost fears that they will tear into him, like a furious wolf defending his honour.
To love, to hold, to fuck things up 4/?
anonymous
April 29 2009, 23:08:29 UTC
"Noo~" Italy wailed, this wasn't how it was supposed to go at all. "No, please, Prussia, put me down!"
He was released, dropped more like it.
"I'm leaving."
And that brought him his wits back. Italy is finally spurred into action. Because he has already let one of the German's leave with his voice full of hurt and his back stiff with pride and anger, and he's still trying to fix that! Not again, no, not when he can almost picture Germany blushing at him reaching for his hand with a rare softness in his entire body. No, Italy has decided now. He won't mess up again.
Italy slams into Prussia's legs and in a rather painful tangle, they go down. When the larger nation's elbow flies through the air, Italy's face is no longer there. He remembers at least parts of what Germany tried to teach him, after all!
When Prussia stops trying to punch him and instead makes to rise, Italy throws himself bodily over Prussia again. "Listen," says, "please just listen!"
"Get the fuck off me!"
"I know I'm stupid," Italy hurries to get out before he is thrown off and, quite likely by now, beaten black and blue for his impudence. "Lazy and stupid and slow. But Germany, he is even worse sometimes! Well, not lazy, and not really slow he just doesn't realize..." No, he tells himself, bad Italy. Focus!
"Germany cares a lot," he continues, "he's just really, really bad at showing that. And I think," oh dear, he'd better be right or he'll be beaten both black, blue and green soon, "that even if he's very different, Prussia is a little bit the same. But you both care - and I care,"
"Goddamnit, the entire world knows you care about Germany," Prussia mutters.
"...I think I can learn to care a lot about Prussia too," Italy says.
The struggles cease. When Prussia makes to get up this time, Italy allows it. His face as he turns around is a bland mask, but tiny pearls of sweat beads it and his eyes are almost shiny.
"And when you say care, you mean...?"
"I mean I love Germany!" Italy says and, oh, it feels good to say it like that and really mean it. "I love him all the way, because he's kind to me and strong and, and sexy too."
"That's what you feel for Germany, eh?"
"Yes! And I want to. If you want to. To." He dares to say the words, bring them out in the open, finally. "To learn to love you too. If you want me..."
"What about Germany? He..." Prussia's eyes seem to search for something that isn't there, but his voice betrays little and the smile is only replaced by a frown. That too, Italy has come to realize, is a mask. "After he took over, I asked. If he wanted to change things. We're not," he almost touches Italy before drawing back quickly, "like you. Two halves. Equals."
"I know," Italy says softly.
"It would have been natural. But," Prussia shrugs and for a moment old hurts surface, "I guess I'm meant to be alone."
"Nobody is meant to be alone!" Italy says. "But Germany... Ve, Germany can be really stubborn."
"Yeah. Could give lessons to an ass."
"Yes. And Italy." He squirms a little, but plunges on, "Italy can be really blind. That's what I was saying sorry for."
This time, when Prussia speaks, his voice can barely be heard. "Not blinder than any of the others. They still haven't..."
"I want Germany," and it feels, oh, almost liberating to say it. He's never been the kind to go out and take what he wants, even if he's had bosses who have tried to mould him into his grandfather's image. Perhaps now, when he's finally found something he wants, he'll become a bit more like Rome? That must be it, or he would never dare say the words that spill from his lips next. "I think you want Germany too. Do you?"
Prussia's eyes are red and old, but when real happiness reaches them, he looks like a mischievous child again. "Fuck yeah. Partners in crime then?"
Re: To love, to hold, to fuck things up 4/?
anonymous
April 30 2009, 01:58:44 UTC
LOLololololol~
This anon is loving this story. It's very well writtena nd I can't help my feel all gooshy inside and smile over Italy and Gulbert. Gaaah! They're so cute, and you seem to have all the characters down.
Re: To love, to hold, to fuck things up 4/?
anonymous
April 30 2009, 03:45:00 UTC
Not OP. As someone who's tried to wrote a threesome, I know how difficult it can be. And this? This is wonderful! I love how Prussia and Italy aren't quite together yet, but are still heading for the same agreed goal.
And Italy's last line was priceless! Totally Italy. And that making love to pasta? I couldn't breathe for a second I was laughing so hard! XD
I can't wait to see what you'll come up with for tomorrow!
Re: To love, to hold, to fuck things up 4/?
anonymous
April 30 2009, 07:25:25 UTC
Trufax: I have no idea how I'm gonna handle the actual in bed parts, because gaah, it's difficult enough to write two guys without descending into "he did to him and then he felt etc" but three at once? Halp
To love, to hold, to fuck things up 5/?
anonymous
April 30 2009, 11:31:34 UTC
Operation Seduce Germany, plan F was a complete failure. As had plans A, B, C, D and E also been. (Especially plan C. Both Prussia and Italy agreed that they would never, ever mention plan C again.)
The F stood for "Fancy Flirting with Germany, Fine Dining Included." It had all begun so well - Prussia had badgered Austria until he gave them the best seats to an award-winning staging of The Magic Flute, Italy had chosen a very romantic restaurant in Salzburg and France had helped them pick out two flattering suits.
Unfortunately, Germany had a lot of work he wanted to finish so they were late to the opera. Italy mixed up the dates when he made the restaurant booking and because of a local festival, Salzburg was filled to the bursting, so there were no seats anywhere.
When they finally found a restaurant, on the other side of the border, which fit all their tastes, Prussia was in a rotten mood. So it wasn't really a surprise that he ended up in a argument with a group of American soldiers, which soon escalated in a brawl. In the end, all three of them were thrown out and a frustrated Germany dragged his friend and brother home, scolding them all the way about how America would react if he heard about this and had they no sense at all?
All in all, it had ended pretty much exactly like the previous plans, with minor variations. For instance, during plan A, Attack Germany with All-consuming Adoration! they had been at home. In the end, Germany had just thrown them out and then North Italy had to listen to South Italy's whining for letting Prussia sleep in his bed.
"Italy! Where the hell are you? We've got to start our new plan!" Prussia called. For a few panicked moment, Italy considered hiding beneath a bed. He had never realized that Prussia would take this thing so seriously!
But, in a rare show of his famed discipline, Prussia attacked the matter of seducing Germany with all his vigour. He wrote up battle plans, which had little coloured dots that showed what would happen. They also, always, contained numerous enemies; usually Austrian and Russian, but after tonight, they would probably also involve Americans and the appropriate countermeasures. In Italy's opinion, he took the simile of "love is war" about thirty steps too far. To make matters worse, Prussia was absolutely, completely, utterly worthless at subtlety and romance.
Germany now, Germany was just as bad in Italy's opinion - he seemed incapable of entertaining the idea that anyone could like him, he couldn't see a hint until it knocked him over the head and his idea of a "nice evening out" (Plan D - Dig his own grave. They convinced Germany to pick a nice place, to make him more open for advances) was a small, smoky pub with nothing but horrible wurst and fries on the menu. Admittedly, it was better than a plan B, which had been dubbed "Buggering in a Bavarian Beerhall", but not by much.
"There you are," Prussia said as he saw Italy sitting morosely on his bed, "I've been looking all over!" He waved a handful of papers. "I think I've come up with a really good plan now, just listen!"
This was it. Now or never. Remember that you have Grandpa Rome's blood (and forget that Germania was the one who finally killed him!) and stand up for yourself. Be a man, Italy!
"Erhm, Prussia, I'm not sure the plans are really working..."
"Nah. Not the old plans, they were shit. But this one, you gotta see, this one is really amazing!"
"Prussia!" Waah, help me South Italy, soon I'm going to be turned into wurst! "Please, just listen, Prussia. I don't think any plan will work."
Prussia peered at him in confusion. "How are we supposed to do it then? Just hit him over the head and jump him?"
"Ve!! No, not at all, Prussia! But..." This was something he had never managed to explain to Germany either. Hopefully, the older brother wouldn't be quite as thick. "Have a seat," Italy said and patted the bed. Even if he looked hesitant, Prussia obeyed, which Italy decided to interpret as a favourable omen.
To love, to hold, to fuck things up 6/?
anonymous
April 30 2009, 11:33:31 UTC
"Sometimes, especially with emotions involved," Italy began, "you can't make plans. You have to listen to the other person involved."
"We tried that! But West is too stupid to ask us to fuck, so we'll have to convince him. For his own good, of course."
Why did he ever decide to fall in love with Germany? And then add Prussia to the mix, too. Perhaps he should have listened to Romano and just hooked up with Greece or someone. But no, Italy, don't give up! Imagine all that disciplined detail-obsession focus on you... in bed... Hmmm...
"Hey, Italy?" Prussia snapped his finger's in front of the suddenly vacant brown eyes. "You were saying?"
"Oh? Um, ahahaha, sorry Prussia!" Yes, focus Italy, focus. No, not on that!
"Listening to your partner, or to anyone, is the most difficult thing there is," Italy said. "I'm not that good at it either - I often hurt South Italy because I just can't understand what he means."
"Since he's even weirder than you, that's not really strange," Prussia said snidely. He still hadn't forgiving Romano for calling him "superfluous potato-bastard".
"But what I'm trying to say, Prussia, is that I don't think we can decide ahead how to seduce Germany. We have to adapt."
"There's lot of flexibility in all my plans. Look, I've even added in a countermeasure to what to do if we mess up a booking again!" he pointed to a purple circle with informative stick-figures in place of text.
"Yes, but... Do any of your plans include your feelings? Or mine, or Germany's?"
"Feh. Feelings. I've never needed them to get laid before!"
Okay, here was an angle Italy hadn't worked with before. Perhaps he could finally understand how Germanic nations did manage to have sex when they were so utterly incompetent at dating? Then he'd have something to work from!
"Can't you tell me about that? Germany has never been with anyone, I think..."
"Nope. Too young during his independence wars, too stiff during the first Great War and then in the second that idiot boss of his filled his head with all kinds of crap about racial purity."
"Ve?" No, never mind that, focus on the goal now. Perhaps Prussia just meant that the brothers both had a uniform kink?
Italy glanced down in his lap. It seemed as if parts of the Italian Alps also had a uniform kink. Well, Germany always wore very nice, shiny boots and Prussia looked quite dashing in the old portraits. And that evil black uniform, with all the shiny pieces and details... But now his mind was definitely hurrying on ahead, so he put the image away (but made sure to keep it close at hand, oh yes) and focused on the Prussia in front of him.
"Please, just tell me about your earlier dating? Maybe we can go from there."
With a shrug, Prussia began to tell him and soon Italy found his interested smile freezing into a mask of horror.
Apparantly, Prussia lost his virginity with Poland, after he conquered one of his cities. Then Poland retaliated, with the help of Lithuania, and they both had their way with him.
"A- and you didn't. Mind?" Italy asked with shocked eyes.
"Nah. We were all young and horny and I was mostly pissed about losing the war. Besides, you wouldn't believe how wild Lithuania can become in bed!"
"Then they wanted me to marry my sister, Brandenburg, but since our houses weren't connected, I managed to convince them we should wait until we could properly consummate the marriage."
After that had come the Thirty Years War, where Prussia had apparently at various times bedded and been bedded by Sweden, Austria and Poland again. There'd even been an attempt by Russia. "I kicked him in the balls before he was done, though," Prussia said with great satisfaction.
To love, to hold, to fuck things up 7/?
anonymous
April 30 2009, 11:38:41 UTC
"'n then I had to take care of Germany. Found him on the battlefield, you know, bleeding all over, ranting to himself - gone completely bonkers. Guess they'd call it post-traumatic stress today. I think he was one of the small duchies or something, had been completely trampled down by someone's army."
Italy nodded, that was what Germany had also told him when he had once asked why Germany never talked about his childhood. "Yes, Germany said that Prussia raised him."
"Heh, yeah..." Prussia leaned back on his arms and Italy had the fleeting thought that he could get very used to having this man in his bed too. "Anyway, that was pretty much the end of my adventures for a while. Kid was pretty confused for a couple of years, and we were all so busy."
After that, there had been what Prussia describes as a "fling" with Austria, which Italy suspected Austria would use quite a different term for. He'd he tried dating the US once, but the kid had been a bit too much with the wide-eyed hero worship for Prussia to feel comfortable taking it further.
"France is a selfish bastard in bed," was all that Prussia was willing to say about the Napoleonic wars. Denmark had been a lot more fun, although he had raised an incredibly fuss at the beginning.
"And that's pretty much it," Prussia finished. "Never managed to get into Hungary's panties, though God knows I've tried my best. When they said that Germany and I should marry, I asked him and he turned me down. While I lived with Russia, he was busy with Lithuania." He shuddered. "Thank god. So now you know."
"Let me just, so that I don't misunderstand because I can be so stupid, ve, to make things clear. Has Prussia ever been with anyone without a war?" Italy didn't have much hope for an affirmative answer to that question, but you never knew.
"Didn't I just tell you I managed to avoid marriage for all this time?"
"I don't mean marriage," Italy said meekly, "but just... dating? Regular, no invasion of vital regions, dating?"
"Lemme think... No."
"Have you even, uhm, had sex where both of you wanted it? From the beginning to the end?"
Prussia shrugged. "If you're in the game, you gotta accept the rules. Things were simpler back then, everyone knew what was expected." He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I think Austria is the only one who really raised a fuzz."
Oh yes, Italy quite remembered that. Not to mention Hungary's reaction.
"What? Are you telling me that you just go around sleeping with people without even invading them properly before?" he continued, laughing at Italy's perplexed face.
"...yes?"
"Hahaha- What? But that! That's so..." Prussia struggled to find words, growing increasingly red in the face. Italy waited patiently. The way that Prussia's mind was working was a whole new world for Italy and he had no idea what would come out now. If it hadn't had such severe consequences for his love-life, he would have been greatly amused by this. "It's just fucking promiscuous, yeah!"
"You think it's worse to sleep with someone because you feel like it, than because you defeated them?"
"Sure. It's expected of you, afterwards. Show that you're a man and all that!"
Hmm... If one followed that thought all the way... "Prussia, did you explain all this to Germany?"
"Of course. Fucking on the battlefield is ok, marriage if you really can't avoid it is also ok. Just watch out so the other groom doesn't stab you in the back." Prussia ticked off his life-lessons on one hand. "Or bride, if you manage to find one. Ukraine's got awesome boobs, wouldn't mind trying her some time."
"Listen to me, Gilbert," Italy said, and there was such an unusual firmness in his voice that Prussia stopped babbling. "I'm going to teach you and Germany about how an Italian makes love and trust me, it won't involve any invasions, occupations or declarations of war."
"But-"
"No, listen! It's no wonder we haven't managed to seduce Germany. From what you've told him, he is more likely listen if we march up to the Reichstag with a battalion than if we try to bring him out on a date!"
"Post-coup sex is supposed to be really good," Prussia said, but quickly fell silent at Italy's glare.
"Absolutely not! This time, I want to use plan L."
To love, to hold, to fuck things up 8/?
anonymous
April 30 2009, 16:49:13 UTC
It had taken quite a bit of work, but finally Italy had convinced Prussia that they ought to lie low for a while before initiating their new plan. Germany had shown worrying tendencies to become annoyed with the unusual amount of attention and Italy figured it was best to give him some time to calm down.
About a month had passed since their last failed attempt. Meanwhile, Italy had taken Prussia out on practice dates a lot. He was good at going through the motions at least, though most of Prussia's favourite topics weren't fit for polite conversation.
Then, yesterday, Germany had asked Italy to come over for a beer after work. When Italy told him he was already booked up for the evening, because he would go to a horse exhibit with his brother and Spain, Germany's voice began sounding almost choked through the phone.
"I think I heard Prussia say that he was also going to some kind of horse show?" Germany asked.
"Yes!" Italy thrilled, "Prussia is a very good rider, so he was really interested when I told him."
"I see..."
Italy continued to prattle on about how fun it would be to pet the horsies and eat dinner at Spains. He was just describing how even his brother was happy about this and that South Italy had promised to show him a lot of Spanish specialities, when Germany's temper finally snapped.
"Fine!" he snapped, "I understand. You're all going to have a wonderful time! You can stop talking about it now!"
"Oh, I'm sorry Germany," Italy said. "Since you are always working so much, I thought I could at least tell you about all the fun things that were happening!"
"I- Italy..."
There was a niggle of guilt in Italy, but he forced himself to continue. "But if you don't want to hear more," he drew a deep breath and ploughed on, "that's ok. I have to go get ready now, anyway!"
"You don't think I could- I mean, if it's no trouble..."
Ahhh, the pathetic loneliness in that voice was more than Italy could bear. Just when he was at his breaking point, the phone was plucked from his fingers and Prussia finished the conversation for him. "Don't worry, West, I'll take care of your little Italy. Bye!" he said quickly, before pressing the end call button.
"Germanyyyyy!"
"Hey, this was your idea!" Prussia said. "No chickening out at the last minute now."
Seeing as how Italy was still wailing, he decided to make his escape to the kitchen and also to keep the phone with him. Just in case. "Man up, Italy," he muttered and tried to hide how odd it had felt to hear Germany's betrayed gasp just before the phone clicked off. "We're going over to him in the weekend, right?"
Italy sniffled. "Ve, ve... Yes. I just hope Germany doesn't feel too alone until then!"
"Pft. He just has to get used to it, like the rest of us."
"But I don't want Germany to be alone, I want him to be with me and give me lots of kisses and fooooood. Waah, I'm sorry, Germany, I'm sorry!" he told the empty phone-holder.
(I promise I will actually allow Germany to appear in the next chapter. Ho-hum....)
"But... I do love Germany. Like, really love him, as much as my art or my pasta." He frowned. "But I don't want to make love to my pasta. Hardly ever. I mean, it's different with Germany, but it's just as deep as all the other things I love in my life!"
A large, calloused hand suddenly descended to stroke his hair. Italy froze in sudden fear, but Prussia managed to avoid his 'sensitive' hair. Sheer coincidence, or had someone in the German household figured things out and warned Prussia?
"Italy," his voice was uncharacteristically soft, "if you want my brother, just go for him. You're a cute little guy and he ought to let someone in. Just," Prussia's hand tightened painfully in Italy's hair, "don't ask me for advice in this matter." Slowly, Italy was released. For once, he felt no need to complain excessively, choosing instead to listen for a little while longer.
"I can't help you; probably everyone in the entire bloody world can hep you more than I can. Hah, this is something even France would manage better! Hahahaha-" The laughter suddenly cut off, and Prussia sprang to his feet, eyes aglow and dangerous grin firmly plastered on his face. "Aw, fuck this shit, Italy! You got any booze around?" Then he sauntered off towards the kitchen.
Many little images over the years swirled together, fitting together like when a handful of unassuming herbs and pungent spices come together to create delicious cuisine.
Italy and Germany, celebrating Christmas together. Just the two of them this year, with South Italy safely ensconced at Spain's.
Germany pulling Italy's ass from the fire, saving him again and again, always with a fond smile to spare after the usual scolding.
Prussia, bursting with happiness, proud to show off his newest souvenir from some odd corner of the world.
When looked a little deeper, this dish was a lot less savoury than what was usually created in Italy's house.
Who had Prussia been with? They'd left him in the empty home before heading out for the Christmas market.
Whenever Germany returned from the eastern front, he seemed upset and disappointed. Why couldn't his brother manage even something this simple?
Germany, rolling his eyes and stuffing the new item deep inside a storage room, without even looking at it twice.
But Prussia only laughed like he always did, and perhaps punched Germany's shoulder a little harder than was proper. And Italy? Stood smiling obliviously beside them both.
He followed Prussia. Though Italy's house was old, with both doors and floor-boards creaking and squeaking, Italy knew how to pad soundlessly over oaken planks twisted from age and exactly how much you could open the kitchen door before it made any undue noise.
There was Prussia, drinking amaretto from a water glass and, from the look of it, not particularly enjoying his drink. His back was turned, so Italy slipped close and carefully wrapped his arms around Prussia's middle. The other nation stiffened in his arms, drink nearly touching his lips.
"Forgive me," Italy said.
"Wha- what're you talking about? This shite liquor or what? Certainly deserves some proper excuses, it does." Prussia quickly downed the rest of his drink, but he made no move to escape the soft grip.
"I think, perhaps," he said and pressed his face against the strong back, "that Germany isn't the only one who proposed and was turned down. Maybe Prussia thinks Germany has special reasons not to listen to him in matters of love?"
A heartbeat. Two.
"What the FUCK are you talking about, you cowardly little asswipe?" Prussia showed him away with impressive force and Italy couldn't help but cry out as his back made painful contact with the kitchen bench. Then he was lifted up, until he could feel Prussia's liquour-laced breath on his face, hot and erratic.
"Are you saying that I tried to molest my little brother, huh? If- If you even think for a moment!" He's shaking with fury and his teeth are so close that Italy almost fears that they will tear into him, like a furious wolf defending his honour.
tbc...
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He was released, dropped more like it.
"I'm leaving."
And that brought him his wits back. Italy is finally spurred into action.
Because he has already let one of the German's leave with his voice full of hurt and his back stiff with pride and anger, and he's still trying to fix that! Not again, no, not when he can almost picture Germany blushing at him reaching for his hand with a rare softness in his entire body. No, Italy has decided now. He won't mess up again.
Italy slams into Prussia's legs and in a rather painful tangle, they go down. When the larger nation's elbow flies through the air, Italy's face is no longer there. He remembers at least parts of what Germany tried to teach him, after all!
When Prussia stops trying to punch him and instead makes to rise, Italy throws himself bodily over Prussia again.
"Listen," says, "please just listen!"
"Get the fuck off me!"
"I know I'm stupid," Italy hurries to get out before he is thrown off and, quite likely by now, beaten black and blue for his impudence. "Lazy and stupid and slow. But Germany, he is even worse sometimes! Well, not lazy, and not really slow he just doesn't realize..." No, he tells himself, bad Italy. Focus!
"Germany cares a lot," he continues, "he's just really, really bad at showing that. And I think," oh dear, he'd better be right or he'll be beaten both black, blue and green soon, "that even if he's very different, Prussia is a little bit the same. But you both care - and I care,"
"Goddamnit, the entire world knows you care about Germany," Prussia mutters.
"...I think I can learn to care a lot about Prussia too," Italy says.
The struggles cease. When Prussia makes to get up this time, Italy allows it. His face as he turns around is a bland mask, but tiny pearls of sweat beads it and his eyes are almost shiny.
"And when you say care, you mean...?"
"I mean I love Germany!" Italy says and, oh, it feels good to say it like that and really mean it. "I love him all the way, because he's kind to me and strong and, and sexy too."
"That's what you feel for Germany, eh?"
"Yes! And I want to. If you want to. To." He dares to say the words, bring them out in the open, finally. "To learn to love you too. If you want me..."
"What about Germany? He..." Prussia's eyes seem to search for something that isn't there, but his voice betrays little and the smile is only replaced by a frown. That too, Italy has come to realize, is a mask.
"After he took over, I asked. If he wanted to change things. We're not," he almost touches Italy before drawing back quickly, "like you. Two halves. Equals."
"I know," Italy says softly.
"It would have been natural. But," Prussia shrugs and for a moment old hurts surface, "I guess I'm meant to be alone."
"Nobody is meant to be alone!" Italy says. "But Germany... Ve, Germany can be really stubborn."
"Yeah. Could give lessons to an ass."
"Yes. And Italy." He squirms a little, but plunges on, "Italy can be really blind. That's what I was saying sorry for."
This time, when Prussia speaks, his voice can barely be heard. "Not blinder than any of the others. They still haven't..."
"I want Germany," and it feels, oh, almost liberating to say it. He's never been the kind to go out and take what he wants, even if he's had bosses who have tried to mould him into his grandfather's image. Perhaps now, when he's finally found something he wants, he'll become a bit more like Rome? That must be it, or he would never dare say the words that spill from his lips next.
"I think you want Germany too. Do you?"
Prussia's eyes are red and old, but when real happiness reaches them, he looks like a mischievous child again. "Fuck yeah. Partners in crime then?"
"Noo, Prussia, partners in love!"
"Oh, for crying out loud..."
tbc (tomorrow)...
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This anon is loving this story. It's very well writtena nd I can't help my feel all gooshy inside and smile over Italy and Gulbert. Gaaah! They're so cute, and you seem to have all the characters down.
I'll be looking forward to more >w
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Not OP is greatly looking forward to this!
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This cracks me up more than it should.
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Waiting for more <3
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As someone who's tried to wrote a threesome, I know how difficult it can be. And this? This is wonderful! I love how Prussia and Italy aren't quite together yet, but are still heading for the same agreed goal.
And Italy's last line was priceless! Totally Italy. And that making love to pasta? I couldn't breathe for a second I was laughing so hard! XD
I can't wait to see what you'll come up with for tomorrow!
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lol, reCaptcha: I'm subtlety...
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The F stood for "Fancy Flirting with Germany, Fine Dining Included." It had all begun so well - Prussia had badgered Austria until he gave them the best seats to an award-winning staging of The Magic Flute, Italy had chosen a very romantic restaurant in Salzburg and France had helped them pick out two flattering suits.
Unfortunately, Germany had a lot of work he wanted to finish so they were late to the opera. Italy mixed up the dates when he made the restaurant booking and because of a local festival, Salzburg was filled to the bursting, so there were no seats anywhere.
When they finally found a restaurant, on the other side of the border, which fit all their tastes, Prussia was in a rotten mood. So it wasn't really a surprise that he ended up in a argument with a group of American soldiers, which soon escalated in a brawl.
In the end, all three of them were thrown out and a frustrated Germany dragged his friend and brother home, scolding them all the way about how America would react if he heard about this and had they no sense at all?
All in all, it had ended pretty much exactly like the previous plans, with minor variations. For instance, during plan A, Attack Germany with All-consuming Adoration! they had been at home. In the end, Germany had just thrown them out and then North Italy had to listen to South Italy's whining for letting Prussia sleep in his bed.
"Italy! Where the hell are you? We've got to start our new plan!" Prussia called. For a few panicked moment, Italy considered hiding beneath a bed. He had never realized that Prussia would take this thing so seriously!
But, in a rare show of his famed discipline, Prussia attacked the matter of seducing Germany with all his vigour. He wrote up battle plans, which had little coloured dots that showed what would happen. They also, always, contained numerous enemies; usually Austrian and Russian, but after tonight, they would probably also involve Americans and the appropriate countermeasures. In Italy's opinion, he took the simile of "love is war" about thirty steps too far.
To make matters worse, Prussia was absolutely, completely, utterly worthless at subtlety and romance.
Germany now, Germany was just as bad in Italy's opinion - he seemed incapable of entertaining the idea that anyone could like him, he couldn't see a hint until it knocked him over the head and his idea of a "nice evening out" (Plan D - Dig his own grave. They convinced Germany to pick a nice place, to make him more open for advances) was a small, smoky pub with nothing but horrible wurst and fries on the menu. Admittedly, it was better than a plan B, which had been dubbed "Buggering in a Bavarian Beerhall", but not by much.
"There you are," Prussia said as he saw Italy sitting morosely on his bed, "I've been looking all over!" He waved a handful of papers. "I think I've come up with a really good plan now, just listen!"
This was it. Now or never. Remember that you have Grandpa Rome's blood (and forget that Germania was the one who finally killed him!) and stand up for yourself. Be a man, Italy!
"Erhm, Prussia, I'm not sure the plans are really working..."
"Nah. Not the old plans, they were shit. But this one, you gotta see, this one is really amazing!"
"Prussia!" Waah, help me South Italy, soon I'm going to be turned into wurst! "Please, just listen, Prussia. I don't think any plan will work."
Prussia peered at him in confusion. "How are we supposed to do it then? Just hit him over the head and jump him?"
"Ve!! No, not at all, Prussia! But..."
This was something he had never managed to explain to Germany either. Hopefully, the older brother wouldn't be quite as thick. "Have a seat," Italy said and patted the bed. Even if he looked hesitant, Prussia obeyed, which Italy decided to interpret as a favourable omen.
tbc...
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"We tried that! But West is too stupid to ask us to fuck, so we'll have to convince him. For his own good, of course."
Why did he ever decide to fall in love with Germany? And then add Prussia to the mix, too. Perhaps he should have listened to Romano and just hooked up with Greece or someone. But no, Italy, don't give up! Imagine all that disciplined detail-obsession focus on you... in bed... Hmmm...
"Hey, Italy?" Prussia snapped his finger's in front of the suddenly vacant brown eyes. "You were saying?"
"Oh? Um, ahahaha, sorry Prussia!" Yes, focus Italy, focus. No, not on that!
"Listening to your partner, or to anyone, is the most difficult thing there is," Italy said. "I'm not that good at it either - I often hurt South Italy because I just can't understand what he means."
"Since he's even weirder than you, that's not really strange," Prussia said snidely. He still hadn't forgiving Romano for calling him "superfluous potato-bastard".
"But what I'm trying to say, Prussia, is that I don't think we can decide ahead how to seduce Germany. We have to adapt."
"There's lot of flexibility in all my plans. Look, I've even added in a countermeasure to what to do if we mess up a booking again!" he pointed to a purple circle with informative stick-figures in place of text.
"Yes, but... Do any of your plans include your feelings? Or mine, or Germany's?"
"Feh. Feelings. I've never needed them to get laid before!"
Okay, here was an angle Italy hadn't worked with before. Perhaps he could finally understand how Germanic nations did manage to have sex when they were so utterly incompetent at dating? Then he'd have something to work from!
"Can't you tell me about that? Germany has never been with anyone, I think..."
"Nope. Too young during his independence wars, too stiff during the first Great War and then in the second that idiot boss of his filled his head with all kinds of crap about racial purity."
"Ve?" No, never mind that, focus on the goal now. Perhaps Prussia just meant that the brothers both had a uniform kink?
Italy glanced down in his lap. It seemed as if parts of the Italian Alps also had a uniform kink. Well, Germany always wore very nice, shiny boots and Prussia looked quite dashing in the old portraits. And that evil black uniform, with all the shiny pieces and details...
But now his mind was definitely hurrying on ahead, so he put the image away (but made sure to keep it close at hand, oh yes) and focused on the Prussia in front of him.
"Please, just tell me about your earlier dating? Maybe we can go from there."
With a shrug, Prussia began to tell him and soon Italy found his interested smile freezing into a mask of horror.
Apparantly, Prussia lost his virginity with Poland, after he conquered one of his cities. Then Poland retaliated, with the help of Lithuania, and they both had their way with him.
"A- and you didn't. Mind?" Italy asked with shocked eyes.
"Nah. We were all young and horny and I was mostly pissed about losing the war. Besides, you wouldn't believe how wild Lithuania can become in bed!"
"Then they wanted me to marry my sister, Brandenburg, but since our houses weren't connected, I managed to convince them we should wait until we could properly consummate the marriage."
After that had come the Thirty Years War, where Prussia had apparently at various times bedded and been bedded by Sweden, Austria and Poland again. There'd even been an attempt by Russia.
"I kicked him in the balls before he was done, though," Prussia said with great satisfaction.
tbc...
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Italy nodded, that was what Germany had also told him when he had once asked why Germany never talked about his childhood. "Yes, Germany said that Prussia raised him."
"Heh, yeah..." Prussia leaned back on his arms and Italy had the fleeting thought that he could get very used to having this man in his bed too.
"Anyway, that was pretty much the end of my adventures for a while. Kid was pretty confused for a couple of years, and we were all so busy."
After that, there had been what Prussia describes as a "fling" with Austria, which Italy suspected Austria would use quite a different term for.
He'd he tried dating the US once, but the kid had been a bit too much with the wide-eyed hero worship for Prussia to feel comfortable taking it further.
"France is a selfish bastard in bed," was all that Prussia was willing to say about the Napoleonic wars. Denmark had been a lot more fun, although he had raised an incredibly fuss at the beginning.
"And that's pretty much it," Prussia finished. "Never managed to get into Hungary's panties, though God knows I've tried my best. When they said that Germany and I should marry, I asked him and he turned me down. While I lived with Russia, he was busy with Lithuania." He shuddered. "Thank god. So now you know."
"Let me just, so that I don't misunderstand because I can be so stupid, ve, to make things clear. Has Prussia ever been with anyone without a war?" Italy didn't have much hope for an affirmative answer to that question, but you never knew.
"Didn't I just tell you I managed to avoid marriage for all this time?"
"I don't mean marriage," Italy said meekly, "but just... dating? Regular, no invasion of vital regions, dating?"
"Lemme think... No."
"Have you even, uhm, had sex where both of you wanted it? From the beginning to the end?"
Prussia shrugged. "If you're in the game, you gotta accept the rules. Things were simpler back then, everyone knew what was expected." He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I think Austria is the only one who really raised a fuzz."
Oh yes, Italy quite remembered that. Not to mention Hungary's reaction.
"What? Are you telling me that you just go around sleeping with people without even invading them properly before?" he continued, laughing at Italy's perplexed face.
"...yes?"
"Hahaha- What? But that! That's so..." Prussia struggled to find words, growing increasingly red in the face. Italy waited patiently. The way that Prussia's mind was working was a whole new world for Italy and he had no idea what would come out now. If it hadn't had such severe consequences for his love-life, he would have been greatly amused by this. "It's just fucking promiscuous, yeah!"
"You think it's worse to sleep with someone because you feel like it, than because you defeated them?"
"Sure. It's expected of you, afterwards. Show that you're a man and all that!"
Hmm... If one followed that thought all the way... "Prussia, did you explain all this to Germany?"
"Of course. Fucking on the battlefield is ok, marriage if you really can't avoid it is also ok. Just watch out so the other groom doesn't stab you in the back." Prussia ticked off his life-lessons on one hand. "Or bride, if you manage to find one. Ukraine's got awesome boobs, wouldn't mind trying her some time."
"Listen to me, Gilbert," Italy said, and there was such an unusual firmness in his voice that Prussia stopped babbling. "I'm going to teach you and Germany about how an Italian makes love and trust me, it won't involve any invasions, occupations or declarations of war."
"But-"
"No, listen! It's no wonder we haven't managed to seduce Germany. From what you've told him, he is more likely listen if we march up to the Reichstag with a battalion than if we try to bring him out on a date!"
"Post-coup sex is supposed to be really good," Prussia said, but quickly fell silent at Italy's glare.
"Absolutely not! This time, I want to use plan L."
"Why not I for Italian?"
"No... L for Love."
tbc...
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*giggles*
I simply love this!
*impatiently waiting for more*
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About a month had passed since their last failed attempt. Meanwhile, Italy had taken Prussia out on practice dates a lot. He was good at going through the motions at least, though most of Prussia's favourite topics weren't fit for polite conversation.
Then, yesterday, Germany had asked Italy to come over for a beer after work. When Italy told him he was already booked up for the evening, because he would go to a horse exhibit with his brother and Spain, Germany's voice began sounding almost choked through the phone.
"I think I heard Prussia say that he was also going to some kind of horse show?" Germany asked.
"Yes!" Italy thrilled, "Prussia is a very good rider, so he was really interested when I told him."
"I see..."
Italy continued to prattle on about how fun it would be to pet the horsies and eat dinner at Spains. He was just describing how even his brother was happy about this and that South Italy had promised to show him a lot of Spanish specialities, when Germany's temper finally snapped.
"Fine!" he snapped, "I understand. You're all going to have a wonderful time! You can stop talking about it now!"
"Oh, I'm sorry Germany," Italy said. "Since you are always working so much, I thought I could at least tell you about all the fun things that were happening!"
"I- Italy..."
There was a niggle of guilt in Italy, but he forced himself to continue. "But if you don't want to hear more," he drew a deep breath and ploughed on, "that's ok. I have to go get ready now, anyway!"
"You don't think I could- I mean, if it's no trouble..."
Ahhh, the pathetic loneliness in that voice was more than Italy could bear. Just when he was at his breaking point, the phone was plucked from his fingers and Prussia finished the conversation for him.
"Don't worry, West, I'll take care of your little Italy. Bye!" he said quickly, before pressing the end call button.
"Germanyyyyy!"
"Hey, this was your idea!" Prussia said. "No chickening out at the last minute now."
Seeing as how Italy was still wailing, he decided to make his escape to the kitchen and also to keep the phone with him. Just in case.
"Man up, Italy," he muttered and tried to hide how odd it had felt to hear Germany's betrayed gasp just before the phone clicked off. "We're going over to him in the weekend, right?"
Italy sniffled. "Ve, ve... Yes. I just hope Germany doesn't feel too alone until then!"
"Pft. He just has to get used to it, like the rest of us."
"But I don't want Germany to be alone, I want him to be with me and give me lots of kisses and fooooood. Waah, I'm sorry, Germany, I'm sorry!" he told the empty phone-holder.
(I promise I will actually allow Germany to appear in the next chapter. Ho-hum....)
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That is all.
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Please, please continue soon since I have fallen in love with your fanfiction.
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