Modern girls are forward 1/2
anonymous
July 13 2009, 18:31:11 UTC
"Those are seriously cool contacts," the girl yelled to him over the pulsating music him. "And your hair, wow!"
Gilbert's smirked and leant closer to her, discretely inspecting her cleavage. He may have lost his land and title, but by the gods if the twenty-first century didn't have some things to make up for that. Right now, his list started with "clubbing" and the insane genius who had decided that fluorescent fabric tubes strained to bursting constituted enough clothing for an evening out.
"Do you come here often?" he asked, mentally thanking Poland for helping him pick out the torn red t-shirt that gave enough teasing glimpse of his awesome to snare anyone.
"What?"
"I said, DO YOU COME HERE OFTEN?"
The girl nodded and pointed at him. Prussia shrugged; the music was horrible, the alcohol overpriced (that wanted how many euros for a drink? For a moment, he got flashback to the thirties) and the flickering lights on the dance floor gave him a headache if he looked too long. But West had professed a dislike for these kinds of places and so, of course, Gilbert had to inspect them. Then he had realized what the girls were (not) wearing...
"Lemme buy you a drink," he said, waving a credit card. West's credit card, to be more exact, for some reason his had stopped working after his trip to the New World... Damn Alfred and that rigged sinhole of his anyway. He'd have to invade Vegas one of these days and show them what happened when you cheated the awesome Prussia.
They clinked their bottles and Gilbert eyed the long line of the girl's throat, beautiful skin moving as she swallowed and those squeezed-together breasts... Mmmm. He wondered if they would be grateful if he set them free?
"Let's dance!" the girl suddenly said and pulled him towards the dance floor.
"Er..." Though most people assumed otherwise, Gilbert was a pretty decent dancer. The problem was that the last time he had danced regularly with anyone had been about a hundred, hundredfifty years ago and he was pretty certain that the steps had changed since then.
"Or are you more into the horizontal mambo, eh, vampire boy?" the girl said before she pinched his butt!
The what now? Damn, he really needed to take dancing lessons again. In panic, Gilbert realised that the eager smile on the girl's face was fading quickly and he flailed for some cool line to keep her interest. Then a strong hand clasped his shoulder harshly and Gilbert realised that her beautiful breasts would probably make some other man happy tonight.
"BROTHER!" West yelled, far too audible even over the din of the club. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU THINKING!"
"I'm DRINKING something green that tastes like a chemical factory," Gilbert answered with an insincere smile while sending mental 'get the fuck away'-waves at West. "Wanna taste?"
He hurried to take hold of the girl's arm before she disappeared and showed her towards West. "Hey West this is," uhhh, what was her name? "a- a- nice lady so you shouldn't yell around her! Babe, this is WEST! He's almost as AWESOME as I AM!"
"Hi," the girl said and gave them both fake smiles. She pulled Gilbert's head close. "Look, I'll see you on the dance floor, if your boyfriend let's you, 'kay?"
"Oka- He's NOT MY BOYFRIEND! HE'S MY- WAIT! Waaaait!"
She disappeared in a swagger of pink spandex and bleached hair and Gilbert watched her hopelessly. Then West began dragging him towards the exit and so forlorn was Gilbert from the sudden lack of boobs that he stumbled after.
"Why," West growled when they came outside, "did you end up in such a noisy place? And why did you take my credit card?"
"I'm not talking to you," Gilbert huffed, stomping away from the din and the lightly-dressed pretty people who were gathered outside for a smoke and a breath of fresh air.
"If anyone is allowed to be angry, I think it should be me," West said and followed. "Don't you know that this is fraud Never mind how wrong it is to steal from your brother-"
"I was only borrowing it!"
"You know we don't even have the same last name! Can you imagine what happened if some journalist got hold of just how poor East is!"
Modern girls are forward 2/2
anonymous
July 13 2009, 18:32:26 UTC
"Well I'm fucking sorry, but you don't have to cockblock me for that!"
West blinked, then blushed, then shook his head as if to clear out the words. "I hardly think you molesting some poor girl is going to get you laid, brother."
"She picked me up," he managed to squeeze out through grinded teeth. "Okay? There was at least one person in this world who thought that Prussia was worth hitting on and you had to go fucking ruin it!"
That shut him up for a while and Gilbert stomped on, freezing in his ridiculous torn t-shirt and hating West for ruining his practically last chance at fun.
"Sorry," the taller nation finally muttered. Gilbert kept on ignoring him, concentrating on warm thoughts (like West burning in Hell or someone setting fire to West's care) and tried to keep his teeth from chattering. He'd splurged on a taxi here, but he had a feeling the penny-pinching asshole would not like that suggestion. Besides, while it was one thing to steal West's card, it was quite a different matter to beg for handouts.
The feel of a jacket dropping over his shoulders interrupted Gilbert's bitter thoughts and he finally stopped, although only so as to better glare at West. "Oh, great. Now everyone will think we're gay." The other nation was only wearing his shirt, and the same hideous shirt he had put on this morning.
Wait a minute... Gilbert frowned. "You've been at work until now?" It was almost midnight!
"Yes," West said with a sigh, "I thought I'd take a taxi home, when I saw that someone had st- borrowed my credit card. Come on, brother. Let me buy you a beer."
"A beer is not going to make up for a missed fuck. And don't even think of offering me any kind of compensation in that area!"
West rolled his eyes and smoothed back his hair, thought it was already practically glued to his head. "How about many beers?"
"How many?" Gilbert asked suspiciously.
"Well... I guess that depends." His stupid little brother spread his hands and offered a tentative grin. "How many can you drink?"
Throwing his head back, Gilbert cackled gleefully. "You mean, how many can your credit card handle?" He pulled on West's jacket and punched his brother on the arm. "Come on then, you ass! Last to the pub has to carry the other one home! Hahaha!"
Gilbert's smirked and leant closer to her, discretely inspecting her cleavage. He may have lost his land and title, but by the gods if the twenty-first century didn't have some things to make up for that. Right now, his list started with "clubbing" and the insane genius who had decided that fluorescent fabric tubes strained to bursting constituted enough clothing for an evening out.
"Do you come here often?" he asked, mentally thanking Poland for helping him pick out the torn red t-shirt that gave enough teasing glimpse of his awesome to snare anyone.
"What?"
"I said, DO YOU COME HERE OFTEN?"
The girl nodded and pointed at him. Prussia shrugged; the music was horrible, the alcohol overpriced (that wanted how many euros for a drink? For a moment, he got flashback to the thirties) and the flickering lights on the dance floor gave him a headache if he looked too long. But West had professed a dislike for these kinds of places and so, of course, Gilbert had to inspect them. Then he had realized what the girls were (not) wearing...
"Lemme buy you a drink," he said, waving a credit card. West's credit card, to be more exact, for some reason his had stopped working after his trip to the New World... Damn Alfred and that rigged sinhole of his anyway. He'd have to invade Vegas one of these days and show them what happened when you cheated the awesome Prussia.
They clinked their bottles and Gilbert eyed the long line of the girl's throat, beautiful skin moving as she swallowed and those squeezed-together breasts... Mmmm. He wondered if they would be grateful if he set them free?
"Let's dance!" the girl suddenly said and pulled him towards the dance floor.
"Er..." Though most people assumed otherwise, Gilbert was a pretty decent dancer. The problem was that the last time he had danced regularly with anyone had been about a hundred, hundredfifty years ago and he was pretty certain that the steps had changed since then.
"Or are you more into the horizontal mambo, eh, vampire boy?" the girl said before she pinched his butt!
The what now? Damn, he really needed to take dancing lessons again. In panic, Gilbert realised that the eager smile on the girl's face was fading quickly and he flailed for some cool line to keep her interest. Then a strong hand clasped his shoulder harshly and Gilbert realised that her beautiful breasts would probably make some other man happy tonight.
"BROTHER!" West yelled, far too audible even over the din of the club. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU THINKING!"
"I'm DRINKING something green that tastes like a chemical factory," Gilbert answered with an insincere smile while sending mental 'get the fuck away'-waves at West. "Wanna taste?"
He hurried to take hold of the girl's arm before she disappeared and showed her towards West. "Hey West this is," uhhh, what was her name? "a- a- nice lady so you shouldn't yell around her! Babe, this is WEST! He's almost as AWESOME as I AM!"
"Hi," the girl said and gave them both fake smiles. She pulled Gilbert's head close. "Look, I'll see you on the dance floor, if your boyfriend let's you, 'kay?"
"Oka- He's NOT MY BOYFRIEND! HE'S MY- WAIT! Waaaait!"
She disappeared in a swagger of pink spandex and bleached hair and Gilbert watched her hopelessly. Then West began dragging him towards the exit and so forlorn was Gilbert from the sudden lack of boobs that he stumbled after.
"Why," West growled when they came outside, "did you end up in such a noisy place? And why did you take my credit card?"
"I'm not talking to you," Gilbert huffed, stomping away from the din and the lightly-dressed pretty people who were gathered outside for a smoke and a breath of fresh air.
"If anyone is allowed to be angry, I think it should be me," West said and followed. "Don't you know that this is fraud Never mind how wrong it is to steal from your brother-"
"I was only borrowing it!"
"You know we don't even have the same last name! Can you imagine what happened if some journalist got hold of just how poor East is!"
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West blinked, then blushed, then shook his head as if to clear out the words. "I hardly think you molesting some poor girl is going to get you laid, brother."
"She picked me up," he managed to squeeze out through grinded teeth. "Okay? There was at least one person in this world who thought that Prussia was worth hitting on and you had to go fucking ruin it!"
That shut him up for a while and Gilbert stomped on, freezing in his ridiculous torn t-shirt and hating West for ruining his practically last chance at fun.
"Sorry," the taller nation finally muttered. Gilbert kept on ignoring him, concentrating on warm thoughts (like West burning in Hell or someone setting fire to West's care) and tried to keep his teeth from chattering. He'd splurged on a taxi here, but he had a feeling the penny-pinching asshole would not like that suggestion. Besides, while it was one thing to steal West's card, it was quite a different matter to beg for handouts.
The feel of a jacket dropping over his shoulders interrupted Gilbert's bitter thoughts and he finally stopped, although only so as to better glare at West.
"Oh, great. Now everyone will think we're gay."
The other nation was only wearing his shirt, and the same hideous shirt he had put on this morning.
Wait a minute... Gilbert frowned. "You've been at work until now?" It was almost midnight!
"Yes," West said with a sigh, "I thought I'd take a taxi home, when I saw that someone had st- borrowed my credit card. Come on, brother. Let me buy you a beer."
"A beer is not going to make up for a missed fuck. And don't even think of offering me any kind of compensation in that area!"
West rolled his eyes and smoothed back his hair, thought it was already practically glued to his head. "How about many beers?"
"How many?" Gilbert asked suspiciously.
"Well... I guess that depends." His stupid little brother spread his hands and offered a tentative grin. "How many can you drink?"
Throwing his head back, Gilbert cackled gleefully. "You mean, how many can your credit card handle?" He pulled on West's jacket and punched his brother on the arm. "Come on then, you ass! Last to the pub has to carry the other one home! Hahaha!"
/End
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And write more West/Prussia, you're AWESOME at that.
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