Fic: Five Times Hungary, Austria And Prussia Tried To Have A Threesome, Part Two (Hetalia)
Title: Five Times Hungary, Austria And Prussia Tried To Have A Threesome (And One Time They Actually Did)
Rating: M
Warnings: none
Summary: Prussia puts a spanner in the works. Repeatedly.
Note: Thank you to puddingcat for her beta and rheasilvia for her help too! Historical notes at the end.
Part One
2009
The gardens of Sanssouci were beautiful as ever. Prussia closed his eyes and imagined he could hear the dogs yelping in glee as Fritz threw balls for them to chase.
Other kings think it beneath their dignity to do this, you know, Fritz said, laughing.
"Yeah, well they're losers," Prussia whispered, echoing his long-ago words.
I bet I can throw the next one further than you.
"I bet you can't." He sighed and opened his eyes, smiling down at the stone set in the grass. "I'm glad they brought you here at last. You belong here." He hunkered down and ran a hand over the neatly manicured grass. It felt - like grass. He couldn't feel the land properly; he just touched the surface of things, like a human. "I'm OK," he said, because Fritz had always worried about his kingdom. "They tried to screw us over, but I'm OK. People round here must still feel Prussian, which is only natural." He looked around at the people enjoying the summer weather; amongst the new faces of peoples from all over the world there were faces he wouldn't have been surprised to see in the eighteenth century. For that matter, there were faces he wouldn't have been surprised to see on the Prussian pagans against whom he'd crusaded. You're all my people, he thought, whatever your origins, you're still my people, no matter what the world says. He straightened up as the woman coming towards him looked straight at him and smiled.
"Hello, Hungary," he said as she stopped beside him. "How did you know I was here?"
"The date," she said. "You always come to talk to him on the anniversary."
"I'm steadfast," he said.
"Yes."
"Not predictable."
"No."
Prussia looked at her, trying to work out what was different. Her hair had been curled, he decided. It was glossier and healthier-looking than he remembered, though she had to be feeling the effects of the recession like everyone else. He took her arm and walked away from the grave down towards the great fountain, the rim of its basin crammed with tired tourists. Prussia homed in on a tiny gap created by the angle of a girl's body as she leant over to kiss her boyfriend. It was easy enough to claim more and more space just by the sheer power of his presence, and the fact that the embracing teenagers currently sitting there had no defences against Prussian expansionism and had to stand or risk falling into the water. Hungary rolled her eyes and sat beside him, giggling at the dirty looks the ousted lovers gave them.
"How have you been?"
"Me? I've been awesome," Prussia said. "I hear you've been luring in tourists with the promise of cheap dental treatment."
"Come for the fillings, stay for Budapest," Hungary said. "Lots of the neighbours do it too." She took his hand, twining their fingers together. "Are you really all right?"
"Hungary, now I have to say I'm fine," Prussia grinned. "My manly pride will allow nothing less. Did you think you'd find me crying over Fritz's grave?"
"No," she said. "I think you do that sort of thing when you're sure there's no one else around." She tightened her fingers. "Prussia? I'm sorry."
He transferred her hand to his free one, and put his arm around her shoulders. She rested her head down on his shoulder, inching closer as he lowered his face to her hair. She smelt as sweet as ever. "OK," he said. Maybe they could just stay like this forever, he thought. That would be nice. A few minutes more and he was itching to move, to get off the fountain rim and to do something. It was the worst part of being a man of action, he knew, and it certainly wasn't a disordered attention or whatever West called it. He pulled his camera out of his pocket holding it up facing him and Hungary. It'd make a cool picture for his blog. She didn't object, so he took a few more quick shots. "Let's get lunch," he said, zooming in and out on his favourite of the pictures. "Something with lots of wurst and potatoes. Where's Austria? I know he's got to be round here somewhere, and sent you in first 'cos you're more of a man."
"You have some incredibly outdated ideas," Hungary snorted.
"I'm nearly one thousand, I'm entitled to them," he said. "Where is he?"
Hungary held a hand up to her ear. "Listen."
In the distance Prussia heard someone playing the violin. "He's standing in his house practicing scales with the window open?"
"He's closer," Hungary laughed, and sprang up. "Come on."
Don't take her hand, Prussia told himself. Just give up. Then, I never give up. He took her hand and led the way towards the music. Austria was standing on the steps of the Temple of Friendship, violin in hand, eyes closed as he played. Prussia raised his eyebrows at the open violin case filled with coins.
"That's cheap, even for you," he said.
Austria ignored him, still playing.
"Seriously," Prussia said to Hungary, "he's even playing stuff with a tune that ordinary people can follow, he might as well be begging."
Austria finished his tune and lowered the violin. "I don't beg."
"Explain this, then," Prussia said, tapping the violin case with one foot.
"People merely showed their appreciation for some decent music," Austria sniffed. The very smallest of smiles crossed his face. "I also played Smells Like Teen Spirit for some American tourists."
"You big tart," Prussia sniggered. He sniggered some more at the fact that under Austria's stuck-up expression was something altogether more worried and unsure. What the hell, he thought, and slung an arm round his neck. "You know, for someone who lives on coffee and chocolate, you really have an unfairly good complexion."
"It's the clean mountain air," Austria said. "At least my diet doesn't consist entirely of potatoes and beer."
"I also eat wurst," Prussia said. "And a healthy Mediterranean diet - I steal the leftovers whenever Italy cooks. You should try pasta sometime; he even makes desserts out of it. You could smother it in whipped cream and stud it with Mozartkugeln." It felt good to be childishly rude to Austria, like some essential balance in the universe had been righted.
"Idiot," Austria said, sounding like he thought the same thing. "Shall we eat lunch? The people of Potsdam are paying." He indicated the violin case.
"Typical, you invite me to lunch, and my own people have to pay?"
"Germany's people," Austria said smugly, and took a sharp breath as Hungary squeezed his hand.
"Nothing too mean from either of you," she said warningly. "We're all friends here. Aren't we?"
"Yes, Hungary," they chorused meekly.
Loser, Prussia mouthed at Austria behind her back.
Idiot, Austria mouthed back.
"Are you both a century old?" Hungary said without turning. "I don't even have to see what you're doing to tell you to stop."
They looked at each other, at her and back to each other again. "Yes, Hungary." They crouched down to count the money, Prussia shaking his head.
"You've got over a hundred euro here." He picked up a fifty-euro note. "One of the Americans?"
Austria nodded. "Some people appreciate a good musician."
"Yes, quite," Prussia said, imitating his accent. "It's more likely it was mistaken for a five. Or were you selling kisses too?"
"No," Austria said, "they're quite free. If you ask nicely."
"Pfft," Prussia suggested. He worked on stacking up the coins by denomination, then watched Austria put them away neatly in various pockets before shutting the violin away in its case. "Can we finally get some lunch now?" he asked.
"Yes," Austria said. He took Hungary's arm, which seemed unfair to Prussia, and tried to lead her away. She waited till she had linked arms with Prussia as well, and they strolled off together through the park. The trip back to the centre of Potsdam went quickly, and it was suspiciously easy to find a restaurant they could all agree on. "It serves plain, masculine food," Austria said, looking sidelong at him.
Prussia narrowed his eyes, looking for some hint he was being humoured or treated like a damn charity case, and decided Austria was trying to tease him. Well, he could take a joke, he decided. He wasn't the sort of loser who couldn't laugh at himself. He smiled pleasantly and whisked Hungary through the door and to a seat at a table before Austria could even complain that she'd been seated where he couldn't sit beside her as well. Austria said nothing, just calmly read the menu, looking down his nose in a way that simultaneously annoyed and fascinated Prussia. The specs-wearing weed was just trying to see more clearly, he told himself, and reached over to snag the glasses from Austria's face.
"Hey!" Austria said.
Prussia put the glasses on and winced. The world was even wavier than the last time he'd taken them. "New glasses?" he said, moving his head carefully. "Are you sure they help you to see?" He looked down at the menu and felt vaguely sea-sick. "Hey, are these bi-focals?"
"They are not bi-focals," Austria said, carefully retrieving them and producing a soft cloth to polish Prussia's fingerprints away. "They're varifocals."
"I see," Prussia said. "That means you're getting old, right?" He grinned at the look Austria sent his way, and beckoned the waiter over before he could reply, ordering wurst for everyone. "Let's eat in peace," he said. "I propose a ceasefire."
"You get the last shot and you propose a ceasefire?" Austria said. He shook his head. "Fine." He put his glasses back on and launched into a lecture about music that Prussia couldn't understand at all; it was all right, he decided, because Hungary had a fond expression on her face like she was just humouring her geek of an ex, and anyway, talking about music was a sign that Austria was happy and not spoiling for a fight. It was even sort of nice, the way his face got so intent and he just looked so pretty. And the wurst were tasty when they arrived and the beer was cold, so Prussia could forgive a bit of musical theory. By the end of lunch, with a full stomach and Hungary's hand on his leg, he felt he could forgive a lot more, and broke into the flow of abstruse information about some composer who wrote things with no tune or bits ordinary people could hum along to and said, "I'm asking nicely."
"Pardon me?" Austria said. He looked confused, then, "Oh." He leant over and kissed Prussia on the lips, a dry, close-mouthed kiss.
"I asked nicely," Prussia said, taking a leaf from Hungary's book and sliding his hand up Austria's thigh. He wrapped Austria's always-errant curl of hair round his other index finger and pulled gently, letting it unwind with a spring.
"I suppose you did," Austria said with a hitch in his breath, and, "don't tug on Mariazell," he said and kissed him again, a lot less chastely. He sat back, his breathing faster than before, his eyes flicking down in disbelief to where Prussia's hand had stopped. "We'll be thrown out," he said, and his voice was probably huskier than he'd intended, which Prussia counted as a win. He cleared his throat, "We should pay, I think." And, after another moment, "If you could just take your hand away from my crotch for a few moments?"
"If you're sure," Prussia teased, and folded his hands neatly on the table. Hungary giggled and did likewise, which was a disappointment, but he supposed Austria had a point. He sat there, on his best behaviour, until the bill was safely paid and they could leave. It wasn't until they were standing in the street, all looking at each other and thinking, What now? that he realised his dilemma. Where could they go? The thought of going back to West's house was horrific; Prussia had always prided himself on being able to rattle West's impeccably tidy cage, but he remembered what it had been like to share a house with West and Austria in the previous century, and Austria was a lot meaner than he looked when it came to getting under West's skin. Anyway, it was West's house and it would be - Prussia took a surprised breath at the thought - embarrassing. Going to Austria's house would be just as bad; he'd have to get them coffee and cake, and would fuss and offer them cushions for chairs and they would never, ever get out of his sitting room or even onto his sofa. He couldn't afford a hotel room and it would be tacky to suddenly ask the others if they could, so - he smiled winningly at Hungary and hoped she had developed the talent of reading minds. "Maybe we could - " he said, putting an arm round her waist and around Austria's. "If you don't mind -"
Hungary smiled at him in a way that made his mind go perfectly blank. "It's been a long time since you visited my house," she said. "Why don't we go to Budapest?"
"Great!" Prussia said, and hurried them along before anyone could change their mind.
Hungary's house wasn't as grand as he remembered from the middle ages, but it was a lot better than it had been in the nineteen seventies and eighties. It was comfortable and warm, and he felt as welcome as he could remember. Hungary put her handbag neatly away and took Austria's violin case from him, not without a small struggle. She took both their hands and squeezed tight. "You know," she said, "I would really like to go to bed with you both." Prussia and Austria stepped forward at the same time to embrace her and she let go of their hands, opening her arms. They stood there, arms wrapped round each other, and Prussia felt his heart lift. "Come on," Hungary said, and grabbed their hands again, laughing as she pulled them back into the hall and up the stairs. The door to her bedroom stood open, and she led them through it happily. Prussia looked round her room in delight, utterly charmed by its prettiness and the delicate ornaments and perfume bottles on her dressing table. It was a little annoying to see Austria clearly was not on his first visit to her room, but Prussia refused to allow his good mood to evaporate, especially when Hungary took his hand and put it under her blouse. She put her arms round his neck and kissed him, turning to kiss Austria as well as he held them both.
"I'm still no good at poetry," Prussia said.
"That's all right," Hungary said.
"Luckily one of us is trained in the arts," Austria murmured.
"Yeah? Well, luckily the other two of us are decent soldiers," Prussia shot back.
"You could continue bickering," Hungary said, "or you could undress me."
Prussia grinned. "Yes, Hungary," he said, leaving Austria to be the echo. He carefully started unbuttoning her blouse, cursing the tiny buttons for being unsuited to his fingers. Austria unzipped her skirt and helped her step out of it. Prussia didn't acknowledge how grateful he was when Austria moved on to helping him, and finally managed to get her out of the blouse. Hungary held up her hair as Austria moved round to unclasp her necklace; he passed it to Prussia to put on the dressing table. When Prussia turned back, Austria had opened her bra and was sliding the straps down her arms. Prussia stood transfixed at the sight of her breasts until she kicked off her sandals and beckoned him closer, taking his hands to hook his fingers into the top of her underpants. Charge, he thought, and pushed them down, taking her elbow to steady her as she stepped out and stood there entirely naked, the first such sight he'd had of her in seven hundred years.
"Oh, God," he said, touching her skin with gentle, reverent fingers. He crushed her close against him and whispered in her ear, "You're so beautiful."
"Thank you," she whispered. "I won't tell anyone you said that."
"Thanks." He looked over her shoulder at Austria, who was watching them avidly. "You shouldn't have married her."
"I love her," Austria said, as if that let him off the hook.
"Huh," Prussia said, wishing he were the sort of person who could just say things like that, like he was talking about the weather, or something. "Always leaving me out," he muttered.
"Oh, Prussia - " Austria started, then just kissed him as Hungary kissed his throat and chest. He took Prussia's hand and guided it across Hungary's skin, using Prussia's fingers to touch her shoulders, her arms, her back. Prussia found he could release his death grip on her, and watched, fascinated as Austria moved his hand, circling it over her breast, down her side and onto her hip. "Here," Austria whispered, and moved Prussia's fingers between her legs. "Touch her here."
Prussia moved his fingers as Austria directed, his mouth dry, watching Hungary watching him. She let herself be supported against Austria, smiling lazily as he played with her breasts with his other hand. Prussia swallowed, wondering what they saw in his face as they both watched him. Austria urged him to faster speed, and Hungary closed her eyes, her breathing quickening. She opened her eyes to look at him again as her breaths finally stuttered and gasped, and hugged him tight, kissing him. Austria put his arms round them both, squashing Hungary in between Prussia and him. Don't let go, Prussia thought. Neither of you let go.
"I think we should get undressed as well," Austria said.
"You should," Hungary said, sounding a little muffled. She wriggled free, a wide smile on her face, and pushed them back into each other's arms.
"This makes it difficult to undress," Prussia said, as Austria kissed along his jawline.
"It's just challenging," she said, and sat neatly on the bed.
Challenging, Prussia thought, and did his best to get Austria's clothes off without breaking the kiss. He liked a challenge. Eventually they had to let go for a few seconds, to get their trousers fully off, but that was all right, because Prussia was faster and Austria still never made sure his footing was secure and Prussia swept his legs out from under him, giving him a guiding shove so he fell back on the bed beside Hungary. Prussia fell on top of him a split-second later, driving the breath from both their lungs. Hungary laughed in delight, and the irritation in Austria's eyes died.
"Let me take these," Hungary said, and gently took Austria's glasses away, perching them on her own nose and peering owlishly at them both before wincing and putting them on the bedside table.
"Everyone makes fun of my glasses," Austria said in mock severity. "It's a cheap shot."
"That's why Hungary and me were always better at fighting than you," Prussia said. "We know winning is what's important. Speed, efficient actions, not giving the other guy time to come up with a retort -" He closed his hand round Austria's cock and stroked firmly, grinning as Austria gasped. "See?" He was going to laugh at how easy it had been to knock Austria down, but then he saw how Austria was looking at him with longing and pleasure, and he found he couldn't laugh at all. He really does want me, Prussia thought. Well, of course he does he told himself quickly, then Austria's hand was between his legs and he found he wasn't thinking much any more.
Hungary stroked their faces and hair, murmuring, "You're both so pretty."
Austria and Prussia shared a look of masculine annoyance. "Darling -" Austria said, as Prussia thought that it was one thing for him to consider Austria pretty, but his charms were altogether more manly.
"Handsome," she amended. "You're both very handsome." She slipped her hand between them and helped Prussia stroke Austria, who whimpered and thrust up into their hands. He seemed to have forgotten what he had been doing, but Prussia found himself too fascinated by his helpless, hungry expression to complain. When Austria finally clutched his arms tight enough to bruise and came, his face buried against Prussia's neck, Prussia grinned in victory, sure he was the best either of them had ever had.
"Prussia," Hungary said, and pulled at him to roll over. He let her move him, and did his best not to actually cheer when she straddled him, easing down onto him, warm and lovely. He thrust up as she rocked her hips against his and pulled her down to kiss her. Everything he wanted to say seemed horribly wet or poetic, so he just concentrated on touching her and smelling the sweet scent of her hair. He wanted to stay where he was forever, he thought, and held her tighter. It didn't last nearly as long as he wanted it, and when she kissed his face and gently wiped her fingers under his eyes he wondered just how much he had embarrassed himself before her. "Just something in your eye," she said kindly, and slowly eased herself off him.
Prussia lay, gasping for air, between them as they lay close and put their arms across him. He felt warm and comfortable and utterly peaceful.
"I've never said this," Austria murmured, kissing lightly where he had bitten Prussia's collarbone as he climaxed, "but I've always liked the colour of your hair."
"Huh," Prussia said. "I have no objections to the colour of yours."
Austria laughed softly against his skin. "Silly new boy," he said fondly.
"Mary," Hungary said, teasingly.
Prussia was too pleased with himself to argue. He slid his arms under them and held them close, so they couldn't leave him by himself. "That went well," he said in satisfaction. "I really don't know why we didn't do it before." They both laughed enough to make him shake, but he forgave that magnanimously. After all, he'd laugh for joy if he finally got to go to bed with him, after waiting for so very, very long.
* * * * * * * * * *
Orden der Brüder vom Deutschen Haus St. Mariens in Jerusalem. In 1211 the Teutonic Knights came to help Hungary against incursions by the Kipchak Turks. Admit it or not, wee!Prussia was very much the new boy.
Battle of Lake Peipus/The Battle on the Ice
Prussia becomes a duchy
The War of Austrian Succession and in more abbreviated form
Frederick II of Prussia (Old Fritz)
Prussia rejoins his brother
Sanssouci Palace and park, and Frederick's grave
Mozartkugeln (Mozart Balls)
Prussia quotes the Song of Songs 2:14 to Hungary in the Vulgate translation into Latin: My dove in the clefts of the rock, in the hollow places of the wall, shew me thy face, let thy voice sound in my ears: for thy voice is sweet, and thy face comely.
Rating: M
Warnings: none
Summary: Prussia puts a spanner in the works. Repeatedly.
Note: Thank you to puddingcat for her beta and rheasilvia for her help too! Historical notes at the end.
Part One
2009
The gardens of Sanssouci were beautiful as ever. Prussia closed his eyes and imagined he could hear the dogs yelping in glee as Fritz threw balls for them to chase.
Other kings think it beneath their dignity to do this, you know, Fritz said, laughing.
"Yeah, well they're losers," Prussia whispered, echoing his long-ago words.
I bet I can throw the next one further than you.
"I bet you can't." He sighed and opened his eyes, smiling down at the stone set in the grass. "I'm glad they brought you here at last. You belong here." He hunkered down and ran a hand over the neatly manicured grass. It felt - like grass. He couldn't feel the land properly; he just touched the surface of things, like a human. "I'm OK," he said, because Fritz had always worried about his kingdom. "They tried to screw us over, but I'm OK. People round here must still feel Prussian, which is only natural." He looked around at the people enjoying the summer weather; amongst the new faces of peoples from all over the world there were faces he wouldn't have been surprised to see in the eighteenth century. For that matter, there were faces he wouldn't have been surprised to see on the Prussian pagans against whom he'd crusaded. You're all my people, he thought, whatever your origins, you're still my people, no matter what the world says. He straightened up as the woman coming towards him looked straight at him and smiled.
"Hello, Hungary," he said as she stopped beside him. "How did you know I was here?"
"The date," she said. "You always come to talk to him on the anniversary."
"I'm steadfast," he said.
"Yes."
"Not predictable."
"No."
Prussia looked at her, trying to work out what was different. Her hair had been curled, he decided. It was glossier and healthier-looking than he remembered, though she had to be feeling the effects of the recession like everyone else. He took her arm and walked away from the grave down towards the great fountain, the rim of its basin crammed with tired tourists. Prussia homed in on a tiny gap created by the angle of a girl's body as she leant over to kiss her boyfriend. It was easy enough to claim more and more space just by the sheer power of his presence, and the fact that the embracing teenagers currently sitting there had no defences against Prussian expansionism and had to stand or risk falling into the water. Hungary rolled her eyes and sat beside him, giggling at the dirty looks the ousted lovers gave them.
"How have you been?"
"Me? I've been awesome," Prussia said. "I hear you've been luring in tourists with the promise of cheap dental treatment."
"Come for the fillings, stay for Budapest," Hungary said. "Lots of the neighbours do it too." She took his hand, twining their fingers together. "Are you really all right?"
"Hungary, now I have to say I'm fine," Prussia grinned. "My manly pride will allow nothing less. Did you think you'd find me crying over Fritz's grave?"
"No," she said. "I think you do that sort of thing when you're sure there's no one else around." She tightened her fingers. "Prussia? I'm sorry."
He transferred her hand to his free one, and put his arm around her shoulders. She rested her head down on his shoulder, inching closer as he lowered his face to her hair. She smelt as sweet as ever. "OK," he said. Maybe they could just stay like this forever, he thought. That would be nice. A few minutes more and he was itching to move, to get off the fountain rim and to do something. It was the worst part of being a man of action, he knew, and it certainly wasn't a disordered attention or whatever West called it. He pulled his camera out of his pocket holding it up facing him and Hungary. It'd make a cool picture for his blog. She didn't object, so he took a few more quick shots. "Let's get lunch," he said, zooming in and out on his favourite of the pictures. "Something with lots of wurst and potatoes. Where's Austria? I know he's got to be round here somewhere, and sent you in first 'cos you're more of a man."
"You have some incredibly outdated ideas," Hungary snorted.
"I'm nearly one thousand, I'm entitled to them," he said. "Where is he?"
Hungary held a hand up to her ear. "Listen."
In the distance Prussia heard someone playing the violin. "He's standing in his house practicing scales with the window open?"
"He's closer," Hungary laughed, and sprang up. "Come on."
Don't take her hand, Prussia told himself. Just give up. Then, I never give up. He took her hand and led the way towards the music. Austria was standing on the steps of the Temple of Friendship, violin in hand, eyes closed as he played. Prussia raised his eyebrows at the open violin case filled with coins.
"That's cheap, even for you," he said.
Austria ignored him, still playing.
"Seriously," Prussia said to Hungary, "he's even playing stuff with a tune that ordinary people can follow, he might as well be begging."
Austria finished his tune and lowered the violin. "I don't beg."
"Explain this, then," Prussia said, tapping the violin case with one foot.
"People merely showed their appreciation for some decent music," Austria sniffed. The very smallest of smiles crossed his face. "I also played Smells Like Teen Spirit for some American tourists."
"You big tart," Prussia sniggered. He sniggered some more at the fact that under Austria's stuck-up expression was something altogether more worried and unsure. What the hell, he thought, and slung an arm round his neck. "You know, for someone who lives on coffee and chocolate, you really have an unfairly good complexion."
"It's the clean mountain air," Austria said. "At least my diet doesn't consist entirely of potatoes and beer."
"I also eat wurst," Prussia said. "And a healthy Mediterranean diet - I steal the leftovers whenever Italy cooks. You should try pasta sometime; he even makes desserts out of it. You could smother it in whipped cream and stud it with Mozartkugeln." It felt good to be childishly rude to Austria, like some essential balance in the universe had been righted.
"Idiot," Austria said, sounding like he thought the same thing. "Shall we eat lunch? The people of Potsdam are paying." He indicated the violin case.
"Typical, you invite me to lunch, and my own people have to pay?"
"Germany's people," Austria said smugly, and took a sharp breath as Hungary squeezed his hand.
"Nothing too mean from either of you," she said warningly. "We're all friends here. Aren't we?"
"Yes, Hungary," they chorused meekly.
Loser, Prussia mouthed at Austria behind her back.
Idiot, Austria mouthed back.
"Are you both a century old?" Hungary said without turning. "I don't even have to see what you're doing to tell you to stop."
They looked at each other, at her and back to each other again. "Yes, Hungary." They crouched down to count the money, Prussia shaking his head.
"You've got over a hundred euro here." He picked up a fifty-euro note. "One of the Americans?"
Austria nodded. "Some people appreciate a good musician."
"Yes, quite," Prussia said, imitating his accent. "It's more likely it was mistaken for a five. Or were you selling kisses too?"
"No," Austria said, "they're quite free. If you ask nicely."
"Pfft," Prussia suggested. He worked on stacking up the coins by denomination, then watched Austria put them away neatly in various pockets before shutting the violin away in its case. "Can we finally get some lunch now?" he asked.
"Yes," Austria said. He took Hungary's arm, which seemed unfair to Prussia, and tried to lead her away. She waited till she had linked arms with Prussia as well, and they strolled off together through the park. The trip back to the centre of Potsdam went quickly, and it was suspiciously easy to find a restaurant they could all agree on. "It serves plain, masculine food," Austria said, looking sidelong at him.
Prussia narrowed his eyes, looking for some hint he was being humoured or treated like a damn charity case, and decided Austria was trying to tease him. Well, he could take a joke, he decided. He wasn't the sort of loser who couldn't laugh at himself. He smiled pleasantly and whisked Hungary through the door and to a seat at a table before Austria could even complain that she'd been seated where he couldn't sit beside her as well. Austria said nothing, just calmly read the menu, looking down his nose in a way that simultaneously annoyed and fascinated Prussia. The specs-wearing weed was just trying to see more clearly, he told himself, and reached over to snag the glasses from Austria's face.
"Hey!" Austria said.
Prussia put the glasses on and winced. The world was even wavier than the last time he'd taken them. "New glasses?" he said, moving his head carefully. "Are you sure they help you to see?" He looked down at the menu and felt vaguely sea-sick. "Hey, are these bi-focals?"
"They are not bi-focals," Austria said, carefully retrieving them and producing a soft cloth to polish Prussia's fingerprints away. "They're varifocals."
"I see," Prussia said. "That means you're getting old, right?" He grinned at the look Austria sent his way, and beckoned the waiter over before he could reply, ordering wurst for everyone. "Let's eat in peace," he said. "I propose a ceasefire."
"You get the last shot and you propose a ceasefire?" Austria said. He shook his head. "Fine." He put his glasses back on and launched into a lecture about music that Prussia couldn't understand at all; it was all right, he decided, because Hungary had a fond expression on her face like she was just humouring her geek of an ex, and anyway, talking about music was a sign that Austria was happy and not spoiling for a fight. It was even sort of nice, the way his face got so intent and he just looked so pretty. And the wurst were tasty when they arrived and the beer was cold, so Prussia could forgive a bit of musical theory. By the end of lunch, with a full stomach and Hungary's hand on his leg, he felt he could forgive a lot more, and broke into the flow of abstruse information about some composer who wrote things with no tune or bits ordinary people could hum along to and said, "I'm asking nicely."
"Pardon me?" Austria said. He looked confused, then, "Oh." He leant over and kissed Prussia on the lips, a dry, close-mouthed kiss.
"I asked nicely," Prussia said, taking a leaf from Hungary's book and sliding his hand up Austria's thigh. He wrapped Austria's always-errant curl of hair round his other index finger and pulled gently, letting it unwind with a spring.
"I suppose you did," Austria said with a hitch in his breath, and, "don't tug on Mariazell," he said and kissed him again, a lot less chastely. He sat back, his breathing faster than before, his eyes flicking down in disbelief to where Prussia's hand had stopped. "We'll be thrown out," he said, and his voice was probably huskier than he'd intended, which Prussia counted as a win. He cleared his throat, "We should pay, I think." And, after another moment, "If you could just take your hand away from my crotch for a few moments?"
"If you're sure," Prussia teased, and folded his hands neatly on the table. Hungary giggled and did likewise, which was a disappointment, but he supposed Austria had a point. He sat there, on his best behaviour, until the bill was safely paid and they could leave. It wasn't until they were standing in the street, all looking at each other and thinking, What now? that he realised his dilemma. Where could they go? The thought of going back to West's house was horrific; Prussia had always prided himself on being able to rattle West's impeccably tidy cage, but he remembered what it had been like to share a house with West and Austria in the previous century, and Austria was a lot meaner than he looked when it came to getting under West's skin. Anyway, it was West's house and it would be - Prussia took a surprised breath at the thought - embarrassing. Going to Austria's house would be just as bad; he'd have to get them coffee and cake, and would fuss and offer them cushions for chairs and they would never, ever get out of his sitting room or even onto his sofa. He couldn't afford a hotel room and it would be tacky to suddenly ask the others if they could, so - he smiled winningly at Hungary and hoped she had developed the talent of reading minds. "Maybe we could - " he said, putting an arm round her waist and around Austria's. "If you don't mind -"
Hungary smiled at him in a way that made his mind go perfectly blank. "It's been a long time since you visited my house," she said. "Why don't we go to Budapest?"
"Great!" Prussia said, and hurried them along before anyone could change their mind.
Hungary's house wasn't as grand as he remembered from the middle ages, but it was a lot better than it had been in the nineteen seventies and eighties. It was comfortable and warm, and he felt as welcome as he could remember. Hungary put her handbag neatly away and took Austria's violin case from him, not without a small struggle. She took both their hands and squeezed tight. "You know," she said, "I would really like to go to bed with you both." Prussia and Austria stepped forward at the same time to embrace her and she let go of their hands, opening her arms. They stood there, arms wrapped round each other, and Prussia felt his heart lift. "Come on," Hungary said, and grabbed their hands again, laughing as she pulled them back into the hall and up the stairs. The door to her bedroom stood open, and she led them through it happily. Prussia looked round her room in delight, utterly charmed by its prettiness and the delicate ornaments and perfume bottles on her dressing table. It was a little annoying to see Austria clearly was not on his first visit to her room, but Prussia refused to allow his good mood to evaporate, especially when Hungary took his hand and put it under her blouse. She put her arms round his neck and kissed him, turning to kiss Austria as well as he held them both.
"I'm still no good at poetry," Prussia said.
"That's all right," Hungary said.
"Luckily one of us is trained in the arts," Austria murmured.
"Yeah? Well, luckily the other two of us are decent soldiers," Prussia shot back.
"You could continue bickering," Hungary said, "or you could undress me."
Prussia grinned. "Yes, Hungary," he said, leaving Austria to be the echo. He carefully started unbuttoning her blouse, cursing the tiny buttons for being unsuited to his fingers. Austria unzipped her skirt and helped her step out of it. Prussia didn't acknowledge how grateful he was when Austria moved on to helping him, and finally managed to get her out of the blouse. Hungary held up her hair as Austria moved round to unclasp her necklace; he passed it to Prussia to put on the dressing table. When Prussia turned back, Austria had opened her bra and was sliding the straps down her arms. Prussia stood transfixed at the sight of her breasts until she kicked off her sandals and beckoned him closer, taking his hands to hook his fingers into the top of her underpants. Charge, he thought, and pushed them down, taking her elbow to steady her as she stepped out and stood there entirely naked, the first such sight he'd had of her in seven hundred years.
"Oh, God," he said, touching her skin with gentle, reverent fingers. He crushed her close against him and whispered in her ear, "You're so beautiful."
"Thank you," she whispered. "I won't tell anyone you said that."
"Thanks." He looked over her shoulder at Austria, who was watching them avidly. "You shouldn't have married her."
"I love her," Austria said, as if that let him off the hook.
"Huh," Prussia said, wishing he were the sort of person who could just say things like that, like he was talking about the weather, or something. "Always leaving me out," he muttered.
"Oh, Prussia - " Austria started, then just kissed him as Hungary kissed his throat and chest. He took Prussia's hand and guided it across Hungary's skin, using Prussia's fingers to touch her shoulders, her arms, her back. Prussia found he could release his death grip on her, and watched, fascinated as Austria moved his hand, circling it over her breast, down her side and onto her hip. "Here," Austria whispered, and moved Prussia's fingers between her legs. "Touch her here."
Prussia moved his fingers as Austria directed, his mouth dry, watching Hungary watching him. She let herself be supported against Austria, smiling lazily as he played with her breasts with his other hand. Prussia swallowed, wondering what they saw in his face as they both watched him. Austria urged him to faster speed, and Hungary closed her eyes, her breathing quickening. She opened her eyes to look at him again as her breaths finally stuttered and gasped, and hugged him tight, kissing him. Austria put his arms round them both, squashing Hungary in between Prussia and him. Don't let go, Prussia thought. Neither of you let go.
"I think we should get undressed as well," Austria said.
"You should," Hungary said, sounding a little muffled. She wriggled free, a wide smile on her face, and pushed them back into each other's arms.
"This makes it difficult to undress," Prussia said, as Austria kissed along his jawline.
"It's just challenging," she said, and sat neatly on the bed.
Challenging, Prussia thought, and did his best to get Austria's clothes off without breaking the kiss. He liked a challenge. Eventually they had to let go for a few seconds, to get their trousers fully off, but that was all right, because Prussia was faster and Austria still never made sure his footing was secure and Prussia swept his legs out from under him, giving him a guiding shove so he fell back on the bed beside Hungary. Prussia fell on top of him a split-second later, driving the breath from both their lungs. Hungary laughed in delight, and the irritation in Austria's eyes died.
"Let me take these," Hungary said, and gently took Austria's glasses away, perching them on her own nose and peering owlishly at them both before wincing and putting them on the bedside table.
"Everyone makes fun of my glasses," Austria said in mock severity. "It's a cheap shot."
"That's why Hungary and me were always better at fighting than you," Prussia said. "We know winning is what's important. Speed, efficient actions, not giving the other guy time to come up with a retort -" He closed his hand round Austria's cock and stroked firmly, grinning as Austria gasped. "See?" He was going to laugh at how easy it had been to knock Austria down, but then he saw how Austria was looking at him with longing and pleasure, and he found he couldn't laugh at all. He really does want me, Prussia thought. Well, of course he does he told himself quickly, then Austria's hand was between his legs and he found he wasn't thinking much any more.
Hungary stroked their faces and hair, murmuring, "You're both so pretty."
Austria and Prussia shared a look of masculine annoyance. "Darling -" Austria said, as Prussia thought that it was one thing for him to consider Austria pretty, but his charms were altogether more manly.
"Handsome," she amended. "You're both very handsome." She slipped her hand between them and helped Prussia stroke Austria, who whimpered and thrust up into their hands. He seemed to have forgotten what he had been doing, but Prussia found himself too fascinated by his helpless, hungry expression to complain. When Austria finally clutched his arms tight enough to bruise and came, his face buried against Prussia's neck, Prussia grinned in victory, sure he was the best either of them had ever had.
"Prussia," Hungary said, and pulled at him to roll over. He let her move him, and did his best not to actually cheer when she straddled him, easing down onto him, warm and lovely. He thrust up as she rocked her hips against his and pulled her down to kiss her. Everything he wanted to say seemed horribly wet or poetic, so he just concentrated on touching her and smelling the sweet scent of her hair. He wanted to stay where he was forever, he thought, and held her tighter. It didn't last nearly as long as he wanted it, and when she kissed his face and gently wiped her fingers under his eyes he wondered just how much he had embarrassed himself before her. "Just something in your eye," she said kindly, and slowly eased herself off him.
Prussia lay, gasping for air, between them as they lay close and put their arms across him. He felt warm and comfortable and utterly peaceful.
"I've never said this," Austria murmured, kissing lightly where he had bitten Prussia's collarbone as he climaxed, "but I've always liked the colour of your hair."
"Huh," Prussia said. "I have no objections to the colour of yours."
Austria laughed softly against his skin. "Silly new boy," he said fondly.
"Mary," Hungary said, teasingly.
Prussia was too pleased with himself to argue. He slid his arms under them and held them close, so they couldn't leave him by himself. "That went well," he said in satisfaction. "I really don't know why we didn't do it before." They both laughed enough to make him shake, but he forgave that magnanimously. After all, he'd laugh for joy if he finally got to go to bed with him, after waiting for so very, very long.
* * * * * * * * * *
Orden der Brüder vom Deutschen Haus St. Mariens in Jerusalem. In 1211 the Teutonic Knights came to help Hungary against incursions by the Kipchak Turks. Admit it or not, wee!Prussia was very much the new boy.
Battle of Lake Peipus/The Battle on the Ice
Prussia becomes a duchy
The War of Austrian Succession and in more abbreviated form
Frederick II of Prussia (Old Fritz)
Prussia rejoins his brother
Sanssouci Palace and park, and Frederick's grave
Mozartkugeln (Mozart Balls)
Prussia quotes the Song of Songs 2:14 to Hungary in the Vulgate translation into Latin: My dove in the clefts of the rock, in the hollow places of the wall, shew me thy face, let thy voice sound in my ears: for thy voice is sweet, and thy face comely.