Your Reputation
Title:You deserved better/...?
Author: traumschwinge
Wordcount: 2000+
Characters: Gilbert, Ludwig, Francis
Fandom: Axis Powers: Hetalia
Rating: T
Summary: Francis arrives
Warning: Human names as always. Francis and Ludwig grossing Gilbert out.
Of course, Gilbert didn't get anything done that day. It is to be said, that that wasn't for a lack of trying. As mad as he supposed his brother to be, he did what he was told. Which was staring at his computer screen, reading - or well, trying to read - a lot of reports and mails and everything his brother forwarded him and did what he needed to do. Ludwig had made him turn off all messenger programs and the one time he caught Gilbert red-handed on facebook, he just looked at Gilbert so sternly, Gilbert was too afraid of any possible punishment to try his luck one more time.
Around five in the afternoon, Ludwig knocked at the door frame, which would never startle Gilbert so much it made him leap in his seat. “What?” Gilbert hissed, as he turned to face his brother. “Is he here?”
Ludwig shook his head. “Not yet,” he said calmly. “But he will be soon and I need you to pick him up at the central station. I still have some work to do and don't have time for it.” He sighed.
Gilbert crossed his arms in front of his chest and shook his head. “No way,” he stated. “He's your fucking boyfriend so you should go pick him the fuck up yourself.”
Ludwig rolled his eyes. “As I said, I don't have time for this,” he sighed. For a moment, he went quiet. Gilbert could watch him think by looking at his face. “Okay, fine,” Ludwig grumbled and threw something at Gilbert. “You can take my car but don't you dare to crash it and if I see one tiny scratch anywhere - and I will if there is - I will make you pay for it.”
Gilbert caught the keys with a grin. “Why didn't you say this earlier?” he cheered. Now, he wanted to go as fast as possible. “Which platform, when?”
“Quarter to six, platform nine,” Ludwig answered. He looked like he still had doubts about handing his car over to Gilbert. The reason escaped Gilbert. He was a very good driver, even Roderich admitted that much. He had said that he'd never been happier by arrival after all.
Gilbert nodded. “Understood,” he said and then repeated dutifully, “Quarter to six, platform nine, main station.” He considered this for a moment and then added, “Would you like me to play delivery boy as well? If you have something you need to get brought to the office, you know.”
Ludwig shook his head. “No need to,” he said. On closer observation, he looked a bit tired. Which meant that at least one of them had been able to concentrate on his work. Well, from what Gilbert knew his brother wasn't not used to having Francis around. He was. And the mere thought made him feel uneasy.
He shoved the memories of too many battles fought much too long ago down where they belonged and took a deep breath to steady himself. There was no way he couldn't do this. Drive to the main station, park, go inside - regrettably most likely without getting smashed by a steel beam - go upstairs and wait on one of the drafty platforms for the ICE in question to arrive. Easy. But … oh shit, he looked at the clock above the door. He would have to leave soon, the traffic at this hour was a mess.
“Do I need anything else?” Gilbert asked as he got up and rushed towards his room to get a jacket. He heard his brother say no. On his way out, Gilbert checked his appearance in the mirrowr opposite to the shoe rack. He didn't look too bad, did he? The last thing he wanted was Francis making fun of his clothes. Again. He had experienced this far too often for his liking. With one last shove of his hand to make his hair fashionably messier, Gilbert hurried out the door.
点点点
At 17.45 exactly, Gilbert was sprinting up the escalator stairs to the platform. The display panel overhead told him he would have had another two minutes - and five extra, because, oh wonder, the train was late. He could have cursed if not for the lack of breath. It wasn't like this was something that never happened. In fact, it had only had to be expected and he could consider himself lucky for only having to wait five additional minutes.
He used the time to gain his breath again and to walk down the platform to the area where he was supposed to wait for Francis. He wasn't nervous at all and the only reason why he kept rubbing his hands on his jeans was because they were cold. There was no reason to fear Francis after all. Gilbert sought and found comfort in the thought that he had kicked the other's ass so often he had lost count. That was at the very least something.
It didn't take him long to spot Francis in the crowd after the train had finally - and overall ten minutes late - arrived. Gilbert didn't wave at him, he sticked to glaring until Francis noticed him and sauntered over. He looked just as displeased as Gilbert felt. Neither of them wanted to be in this situation. And neither of them wanted to hide it.
“Do you want me to take your luggage for you?” Gilbert asked anyway. Like this, he could at least avoid greeting the bastard. He had pointed towards the small suitcase in Francis hands. It did strike him a bit odd that is wasn't any bigger. But then again, it was probably all he needed. Who the hell knew what Francis was thinking.
Francis flipped his hair back with one hand as he answered, “No thanks, I'm well capable of this on my own.” He looked around. “Where is your brother? Didn't you bring him?” Gilbert wasn't certain, but it felt like the Frenchman was close to glaring at him and only did refrain from it because there were a lot of people around them and they were close enough to the parliament to be recognized.
All Gilbert could do was shrug. “He sent me here,” he grumbled. They walked towards the escalators. “And no, I don't know why. He was too busy to do it himself, I guess.” He was still angry at Ludwig for this. They would have a long awkward car ride before they were home and there was no way to avoid both angry silence nor a conversation.
Francis only shot him a skeptical look that made Gilbert hiss, “What?” He didn't like being looked at like he was a criminal, no matter how well deserved. And Francis was about the last person he would allow to look at him like this.
“I'm still not convinced that you didn't murder or imprison you brother,” Francis answered. There was no humor in his voice, but if Gilbert would have been more used to him, he would have seen it in his eyes.
Gilbert shot him a dirty look, implying that if he considered murdering a country, it wouldn't be the one he was part of. And he felt very much like doing so right now.
“I didn't murder him,” Gilbert growled warningly. “And I never would. He's my brother, I raised and love him.”
Francis pressed his lips together, took his time to consider the words and his answer, before he settled for, “So I heard, yes.” Gilbert wasn't sure what he meant by that but didn't feel inclined to ask. His mood was already murderous enough without fueling it further.
点点点
The car ride back to Gilbert's flat was surprisingly peaceful. Francis had take seat behind the passenger seat on the rear, as far away from Gilbert as possible. They hadn't talked which gave Gilbert the opportunity to pretend he had to concentrate on driving the car he wasn't used to. Which was nothing but an act, Ludwig's car drove as smooth as anything and made Gilbert long to drive it more often. It was a shame it belonged to someone who liked public transportation and bicycles better.
“So, this is where you live?” Francis said when they left the car. It sounded much too much like he was appalled and disgusted by the mere idea of entering it.
“You don't have to come in if you don't want to,” Gilbert growled, heaving the suitcase out of the car's trunk. He wouldn't mind that. In fact, Gilbert would have liked to be able to drive Francis off to some hotel and tell Ludwig that Francis had wanted this. Of course, this didn't happen.
Francis shrugged. “Well, it's so you,” he said as he walked towards the door to study the names next to it. Suddenly, Gilbert wished he wouldn't live in a Plattenbau, even though it was a relatively nice one. It was still not even close to a nice family home, like Ludwig owned over in Bonn. Or at least, that was what Gilbert thought.
A little pissed, Gilbert slammed the trunk shut, and let them into the house, carrying the suitcase. He grumbled where they had to go to - fifth floor - and followed Francis up the stairs. The door to the flat was open a crack and Francis let himself in before Gilbert had even reached the landing.
After entering, Gilbert considered immediately leaving again. No matter how he pretended to be content with his brother's relationship, seeing them kiss - and with tongue, urg, it looked almost like they tried to eat each other! -- was something else entirely. Pissed, Gilbert slammed the suitcase on the floor and the door shut behind him, causing them to at least stop making out and look at him.
“I thought we invited,” that bastard, Gilbert thought, “Francis because of me,” Gilbert hissed. “Not for you to jump each other the second you see each other.” Then, he grinned, holding up the key's to Ludwig's car. It was a pleasure to see Ludwig winch for the blink of an eye. “But if I'm not needed here, I could leave. There are plenty of nice places I could drive to. So see you tomorrow, I guess?” Just to prove his point, Gilbert turned to the door.
Ludwig looked shocked and like he was about to say something, but Francis was faster. His voice made Gilbert snap back around. “If you want to leave your flat,” The syllable dripped with euphemism, something Gilbert hadn't even considered possible, “to us, thank you, Gilbert.” Francis was smiling brightly at him which was something Gilbert would have liked to unsee as fast as possible and then maybe go and throw up to get rid of even the last small lingering memory of it. Turned at Ludwig again, Francis purred, “Think of all the places here where we not yet had sex in.”
Gilbert did not turn white with rage. He really wasn't tempted to strange Francis right here and now. And he wouldn't have, not even if Ludwig hadn't stepped in between them, gesturing them to calm down. He even stepped away from Francis - if only half a step, it still somewhat pleased Gilbert. “How about coffee?” Ludwig sighed, a look in his eyes which didn't read anything like Why can't you two play nice with each other for your dear life?
Under Ludwig's stern gaze, both Francis and Gilbert muttered something along the lines of sure, why not? Before they knew, they were sitting in the kitchen, watching Ludwig toying around with the coffee machine, demonstratively not looking at each other. Gilbert wasn't sure if he should be happy that Ludwig was apparently ignoring the mood between them. It was certainly better than being yelled at, but still...
“I hope the trip wasn't too tedious,” Ludwig said as he placed the first cup of coffee in front of Francis.
Francis waved the question away. “As bothersome as always,” he smiled. “But I would never mind it, mon amour. Not if I'm promised to see you handsome face.” Gilbert rolled his eyes and then pretended to be sick when they had to kiss again, right in front of him, Francis was definitely doing this to spite him, he was sure of it.
Grumbling something he didn't want to be overheard, Gilbert fetched his coffee himself. At least now, he could hide behind his mug. “So, what's for dinner tonight?” he asked once he was seated again. His thoughts had wandered from throwing up to the suddenly very interesting question of tonight's dinner plans. Every question was suddenly interesting if it could pull away the attention Francis and Ludwig reserved for each other otherwise.
“I made a reservation with the Greek restaurant down the street,” Ludwig replied. He had let Francis pull him down on the older man's lap, a behavior Gilbert considered highly worrying. “I hope you don't mind that,” he added in Francis direction, placing a small kiss on his stubby cheek. Stop that, it's gross, Gilbert thought, glaring at them. Then, a smaller voice in the back of his head added, That sure doesn't look like they're in need of working on their relationship.
Francis sighed. “Do I have another choice?” he asked, like it meant a great sacrifice on his part to even consider going to anything but a French restaurant.
“I could cook,” Gilbert offered. Two pairs of eyes stared at him.
“Greek sounds fine to me,” Francis quickly said.
Ludwig smiled all too happily. “Well, then it's settled,” he said cheerfully. “The table's booked for in about an hour.” The threat that he expected them to be on their best behavior there was clearly visible in his eyes but went unspoken.
A/N:
Just to be save: Every opionion expressed here is the characters' and not my own until stated otherwise. Thank you
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Steel beam and Berlin Main Station: Shortly after they finished building the new glass palace of a station, a storm took down two steel beams and damaged a third. The beams smashed onto the stairs of the main entrance and damaged them as well.
Die Bahn and late trains: Don't ask, it's a sad, everlasting story. Whenever the weather isn't 100% perfect, trains in Germany are likely to be a few minutes (or more than that) late. Sometimes, they also are late for other reasons unknown. But it spawned an entire genre of jokes.
Plattenbau is a certain type of building, very typical for the former GDR. They are usually built from prebuilt, prefurnished modules that were simply stacked on top of each other.
Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this and look forward to the next chapter! If you spotted any mistake, let me know. I don't really have a beta so every mistake is entirely my own fault.