Reconstruction (Axis Powers Hetalia, Germany/England, PG-13)
Reconstruction
Under their combined efforts the huge block of concrete weaves drunkenly forward, and then finally topples forward with a crash away from the road.
"You just looked so bloody pathetic trying to nudge that thing over yourself," England says, clapping dust off his gloved hands and flicking it away from his impeccable military uniform. Under the sunlight his boots gleam. It makes Germany even more aware of his own appearance, the tears in his worn clothing and the dirt in his loose hair, on his face and concrete raw hands.
"Thank you," Germany says quietly to a crack in the tarmac.
"You may show your gratitude," England says.
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He fucks Germany on the grass by the side of the road roughly, regularly to a silent military beat, and as he does so, he bites down on the shiny patches of skin where his bombs marked Germany's body. Under his teeth they ache again, and Germany gasps as though his lungs are once again choking on hot, dense smoke.
In the sunlight, scar tissue winks at him from England's skin. There are many things Germany is sorry for. He doesn't know if this is one of them.