On Criticism of English Beer and the Subsequent Throttling of Germans

[godsavemy]

WHO: Albino and Eyebrow Bastard
WHEN: Sometime after Mortification and before Madness
WHERE: Eyebrow Bastard's Den
WHAT: What's a breaking and entering between two old...uh.
RATING: Please do not do this at home, children! :D

Comments

[godsavemy]

“It’s perfectly good beer!” Arthur growled back on reflex, deftly catching the bottle as to not allow it to possibly break and ruin his good rug. He couldn’t count how times they had this argument. Over and over again - in pubs, in the alleys behind pubs, in Gilbert’s shitty kitchen in his shitty flat, in Arthur’s own piss poor flat, and occasionally with one of them on their back and the other…

Well, it was a matter never to be resolved between them to say the least.

“And it would be just lovely if you didn’t waste it, thank you,” he continued seamlessly, eyeing the bottle in his hands with distaste. He wouldn’t give that damn bastard the satisfaction of watching him drink it if he could help it. And so, mindful of the eyes on him, he slowly plodded over to the other side of the kitchen. Looking up, he caught the gaze of the German and with a small smirk carelessly dropped the bottle into a small bin in the corner.

Mentally, he reminded himself to properly recycle that later.

“Now. What exactly are you doing in my home anyway?” It wasn’t every day his lock was jimmied by an albino, after all.

[hergelaufene]

"Is it against the law to visit an old friend?" Gilbert asked, eyes narrowing at the bottle as it slipped into the trash. Obviously Arthur hadn't changed that much; he wasn't sure if he was pleased or displeased about that.

Better keep testing the waters.

Walking over to the counter nearest Arthur, he heaved himself up onto it, bumping his foot against the Brit's thigh, grinning at the small grey streak it left. "I thought I'd just pop by and see my favourite Englishman. I heard you were in the city and I just had to come see my little Augenbrau." With this, he reached forward, poking said 'Augenbrau'. "Jeez, do you ever trim these things?"

It was a shame. "You'd be so hot without them. I might even consider treating you again~"

[godsavemy]

If Arthur had learned anything from his affiliation with Gilbert, it was never to rise to the bait. That was exactly what the prick wanted. And if Gilbert wanted something, Arthur desired the exact opposite. It was a juvenile mindset for sure, but one had to fight fire with fire with this particular annoyance.

And so, though he twitched a little at the eyebrow poke, all Arthur said was, "You're dirtying my counter."

[hergelaufene]

That was probably not the best thing Arthur could've said at that moment.

Saying that he was dirtying the counter meant that Gilbert shouldn't be sitting on it and Arthur just didn't want to say that directly, the Brit did tend to not say exactly what he meant. A lot of his nos turned into yeses when Gilbert actually started whatever the Brit had said no to. At least that's the way it had been back in the day.

Point being, Gilbert wasn't supposed to be on the counter according to Arthur, which meant that he should be doing something else. The bottle of beer stayed on the counter while the rest of the Prussian found himself busy with backing against the nearest surface (another counter) placing his hands on either side of the thin hips, clutching the shiny surface.

He grinned, face only a few inches from Arthur's, pleased to know that the exceptionally close contact was probably driving him up the wall. Silly Englishman, thinking Gilbert had forgotten all the buttons to press.

"Is this better little Rotkehlchen~?"

[godsavemy]

All too aware of certain personal boundaries being not crossed, but trounced, Arthur leaned back the scantest of centimetres - any futher would be as good admitting he was uneasy. And being anything but nonchalant around the man...well. Gilbert was the type to seize weaknesses at any given chance and exploit it horrendously. It was because of this infuriating ability that Arthur was loathed to give him any sort of opening.

“Your breath is noxious,” he replied shortly, sidestepping the other’s question entirely. “Personal hygiene still not worth your attention, I see.” He gave Gilbert a knowing look, remembering the other’s habits only all too well.

I was almost wrote "I brush my teeth with a bottle of Jack." but I didn't. I RESISTED TEMPTATION!

[hergelaufene]

The lack of reaction from Arthur made Gilbert frown and those few centimetres that he tried to put between them were quickly made up and the Prussian moved even closer, their noses just a hair apart. "So I get a little messy," he murmured, hands sliding to Arthur's hips, pale fingers winding themselves into the beltloops, anchoring the Brit there.

No chance for escape now.

"You weren't too keen on showering in the mornings either, if I remember right." Gilbert's nose trailed lightly, up and over the Englishman's temple so his noxious (what the hell kind of word was that) breath was right in Arthur's ear. "You were just as dirty as I was~ You may be clean now, but I remember what you were like."

He probably does anyway. :U

[godsavemy]

“The time for recollection is over,” Arthur insisted firmly, making every effort to appear composed and vastly annoyed by such antics. But given the sheer exertion he was putting into maintaining the façade, an utterly microscopic part of himself (that ought to be be hanged, drawn and quartered) suggested that perhaps the assertion was for his benefit as well. And that if he was being completely honest with himself (aha), he wasn’t entirely unaffected by Gilbert’s proximity.

There must have been some reason why he tolerated the other man as long as he did. And it was just his piss poor luck that he was being sorely reminded there indeed was one every time that those damnably long fingers wrapped around his hips and that fucking kraut bastard pressed up against him just like that--

“Memory Lane is not only closed,” he hastily continued, snuffing out anything he obviously didn’t feel in the first place, “it’s been demolished and replaced with Get Out Of My Sodding House Avenue.”

/lolololate

[hergelaufene]

Groaning, Gilbert couldn't press up against the Brit more in an attempt to get the fact that he was not keen on talking through Arthur's head. There had always been talking, snarking, banter, arguments and tiffs between them but these always led to awesome sex. Arthur was telling him to leave, which was NOT what he wanted.

Another press to remind Arthur what he wanted.

"You are denying what you really want." He murmured into Arthur's ear, a smiled banding itself against his skin as his teeth fastened onto the shell. "Stop it so we can both get off." A small growl, in a low voice with just the barest hint of a German tinge to his accent.