Duet, Epilogue (Germany)
Title: Duet, Epilogue
Warnings: Talking about sex
Summary: So does Germany go back to Italy?
Characters: Germany, France, Italy
Year: 1925
Related fics: Sex Talk (prequel), Duet (prequel)
Mouth tasting like come and only barely clean-- he would never have put up with it if he weren't so physically and emotionally exhausted-- Germany limped back to France's bedroom (France's bedroom). Moving silently so as not to wake its occupant, even though he knew what the other man was capable of sleeping through, he cat-footed to the bed, and opened the curtains. Italy's face, sweet in sleep... he turned away, feeling cold. He wanted to crawl into back with the flushed, warm body. To watch him wake, in the small hours of the morning. To kiss him, quietly, away from France's stares and leers and whispers.
He wanted it more than anything, but he couldn't do it. That kind of sweetness... no matter what he had let himself think, it wasn't for someone like him. So he softly, softly touched the cheek of the only man who had never blamed him, and then he turned to get dressed in the clothes he had discarded what seemed like hours ago. With a last look, he turned to leave.
Italy stirred sleepily as he heard the door close, frowning vaguely and rubbing his cheek. Hours later, in buttery sunlight, he would wake up confused in the empty bed, and stumble out to France's patio, rubbing his eyes. France would open his arms to him, a warm smile on his face, and cuddle him and give him little kisses, and make them both breakfast. Then they would go back to bed, and it would be playful, with none of the burning intensity that made Italy's memories of the night before so vague and confusing. Italy would fall back asleep, beginning his afternoon siesta hours early for the special occasion, and France would lie on his back, holding his friend while guilt, satisfaction, and sadness warred in his mind.
But for now, Italy would sleep, France would smoke, and Germany would walk long miles in the human world, arriving home exhausted in time to wave off his brother's questions and fall into a deep sleep. He dreamed of lips and hands, and a world where they all deserved to be happy.
Warnings: Talking about sex
Summary: So does Germany go back to Italy?
Characters: Germany, France, Italy
Year: 1925
Related fics: Sex Talk (prequel), Duet (prequel)
Mouth tasting like come and only barely clean-- he would never have put up with it if he weren't so physically and emotionally exhausted-- Germany limped back to France's bedroom (France's bedroom). Moving silently so as not to wake its occupant, even though he knew what the other man was capable of sleeping through, he cat-footed to the bed, and opened the curtains. Italy's face, sweet in sleep... he turned away, feeling cold. He wanted to crawl into back with the flushed, warm body. To watch him wake, in the small hours of the morning. To kiss him, quietly, away from France's stares and leers and whispers.
He wanted it more than anything, but he couldn't do it. That kind of sweetness... no matter what he had let himself think, it wasn't for someone like him. So he softly, softly touched the cheek of the only man who had never blamed him, and then he turned to get dressed in the clothes he had discarded what seemed like hours ago. With a last look, he turned to leave.
Italy stirred sleepily as he heard the door close, frowning vaguely and rubbing his cheek. Hours later, in buttery sunlight, he would wake up confused in the empty bed, and stumble out to France's patio, rubbing his eyes. France would open his arms to him, a warm smile on his face, and cuddle him and give him little kisses, and make them both breakfast. Then they would go back to bed, and it would be playful, with none of the burning intensity that made Italy's memories of the night before so vague and confusing. Italy would fall back asleep, beginning his afternoon siesta hours early for the special occasion, and France would lie on his back, holding his friend while guilt, satisfaction, and sadness warred in his mind.
But for now, Italy would sleep, France would smoke, and Germany would walk long miles in the human world, arriving home exhausted in time to wave off his brother's questions and fall into a deep sleep. He dreamed of lips and hands, and a world where they all deserved to be happy.