[APH] Kaffee und Kuchen
Title: Kaffee und Kuchen
Category: Axis Powers Hetalia / Hetalia World Series
Characters/Pairings: Austria, Prussia, Hungary
Genre/Rating/Warnings: friendship, general/G/AU-Six Degrees verse
Summary/Excerpt: On the other side of the world, Roderich, Elizaveta and Gilbert share cheesecake beside a music studio, wondering if stories of their own are being weaved.
A/N: Happy birthday couryielle! Here be your fic request! ♥ Hope you enjoy and because of this I may write some sort of continuation that's GerIta X'DD y u do I do this to mahself
Kaffee und Kuchen
Roderich Edelstein wasn't interested in how Gilbert made it from Berlin to Passau in four hours instead of the regular six, not when he was almost run over as he bid goodbye to his last music class for the day.
"For the love of decency, Beilschmidt!" he exclaimed heatedly as the children and their parents scrambled to get out of the way.
Gilbert Beilschmidt proudly stepped out of his Mercedes and flashed a cocky grin at a few affronted mothers.
"Do act like a lawyer," Roderich said after having waved away his students with an apologetic smile. "Without the car and the suit, anyone would think you're a hooligan."
"Aw c'mon," Gilbert said cheerfully and clapped him hard on the back, making him cough. "The one weekend I actually get a break from work and you're still Mister Uptight! Where's Eli?"
"She's inside," Roderich told him. "You've got her cooking since this morning."
Gilbert's cheeks pinked slightly. "Woah, she really made what I asked? I was only joking."
His half-Austrian cousin gave him a withering look. "Don't let her hear you say that."
"Roger!"
Gilbert locked his car with a beep before following Roderich into their home. It was a large townhouse in the quiet suburbs left to them by their grandfather who had a temperament close to Ludwig's but a passion for music, which only Roderich seemed to have inherited and pursued.
Half the townhouse was a music studio where Roderich gave regular lessons in piano, his wife Elizaveta gave regular lessons in voice and a friend of theirs gave regular lessons in violin. One-third of the house was a music shop that sold classical pieces and hand crafted violins made by Roderich himself in a workshop by the garage. The perimeter was surrounded by edelweiss and other flowers, and there was an oak tree in the backyard. When the couple wasn't teaching, they were staging live open-air operas in Munich or Dresden. It was an envious life.
The sweet smell of rum, butter cake, ginger and cloves greeted them as they stepped into the dining room, curiously mingling with the smell of freshly carved wood and varnish that had laced the house ever since Gilbert was a little boy.
He took a great sniff and sighed contentedly. "Man, it's really been a while since I've been back."
"You're here!" Elizaveta greeted, coming from the kitchen with a steaming pot of brewed coffee and three cups. "How as the drive?"
"The roads were clear enough," Gilbert said. "No one out much this time of Saturday."
"Clear enough?" Roderich remarked with his eyebrow raised. "You'd think this moron was on the racing track. It was a miracle you didn't get a ticket."
"I was too fast for the highway cameras!"
Elizaveta laughed. "Well then, just in case the authorities trace you here, we'll say we don't know you."
They sat down at table. A humble fare of sandwiches with lettuce, cheese and sausages had already been laid out.
Roderich gave a huff of amusement. Gilbert opened and closed his mouth, unable to think of a witty comeback in time and simply said. "I'll just bullshit my way out of it."
"It's no wonder you're highly paid."
"I'll take that as a compliment!"
The three of them were childhood friends. Elizaveta had attended Kindergarten together with them and she was the manliest among them. She spent a lot of her afternoons at their home since her parents often returned late, working as doctors in the capital.
The townhouse was extremely lively back then. Both Gilbert's and Roderich's parents were very clean, neat sets of business people who had insisted their children learned some form of musical instrument. Their grandfather, who had still been alive, was only too happy to oblige. The repertoire of the instruments in the house had been much wider, including other strings such as the bass and cello, which Gilbert played and brass instruments like the saxophone, which Ludwig eventually picked up. Their grandfather had been especially fond of Elizaveta, whom he said could carry a tune unlike any other.
These peaceful afternoons filled with laughter and music went on for a while, until it was time for Gilbert to enter high school.
The firm his and Ludwig's parents worked in assigned them to a branch in Rome. Up till then, the brothers had seriously been considering a career in music. The move proved difficult, however, and Gilbert couldn't afford to keep playing the cello. Ludwig continued with his sax but only until senior year, when he decided he was going to be a veterinarian.
Gilbert knew that Roderich wouldn't be lying if he said he felt betrayed that time (like he'd ever admit it). Even their grandfather had been sorely disappointed to the see family part, and realizing that there was only one grandson to continue his tradition, taught the art of violin-making to Roderich, despite piano being his forte.
With Elizaveta, Gilbert hadn't known what to think. He still didn't.
"I'm going to miss you, Gil," she had said in a steady voice on the day of the move. She was holding his left hand in hers, tracing the slender, bony rise of his fingers honed by years of pressing strings and sliding over frets.
He watched her, remembering how her own hands once tore out his hair and punched his stomach, how they clasped together in quiet appreciation on her lap whenever she crept into the studio to listen to them play, or whenever she needn't accompany them singing.
"I love Roderich's hands," she suddenly said, still looking at Gilbert's. "They're hard hands." A gentle thumb under his palm. "Old hands." A reassuring grip. "A pianist shouldn't have those hands."
"Eli, look. I'm sorry-"
"It's okay," she said solidly, neither angry nor broken.
And in that moment, Gilbert had wondered if he just lost something he might have not wanted to lose and that Elizaveta hadn't wanted to lose either.
"It's okay," she repeated softly and let go.
Gilbert only realized what it was when he played a very rusty cello for her and Roderich on their wedding day.
"There's ginger rum cake in the oven and cheesecake in the fridge," Elizaveta said breathlessly as the boys finished their sandwiches. "Which one would you like first?"
"'M fine with any," Gilbert said and took a sip of his coffee.
"The cheesecake then, dear," Roderich said. "We can have the rum cake later this evening."
She left with a flourish.
"So?" the pianist continued, looking at his cousin. "Any news?"
"Nothing much," he began somewhat sulkily, having been lost in his thoughts. "Lud and Feli are back from Osaka."
"Did they have fun?"
"Oh yeah. A ton," Gilbert said and continued drinking his coffee, looking out the window and trying to hide his face in his cup. "Ludwig took the pictures. They met Francis, Antonio and Lovino. Even Feli's old classmate Kiku. Can you believe that?"
Roderich hummed. "It's a small world," he remarked daintily as Elizaveta returned with an exquisite looking cheesecake.
"What did I miss?" she asked as her husband sliced three pieces and handed them around.
"I was just saying that Lud and Feli are back from Osaka."
"Already? Did Feli find out about Lovino's and Antonio's break up?" she asked worriedly.
Gilbert snorted and took a generous bite of his cheesecake. It was sweet, creamy and tasted of home. "Oh yeah."
"How'd he take it?" Roderich asked, he and Elizaveta having stopped eating midway to look at him.
"Quite fine, actually. They even brought them back together."
Elizaveta glowed. "Really. Feliciano works magic everywhere."
"Magic, yeah…" Gilbert mumbled absently, remembering how his cool and composed little brother Ludwig had been absolutely enamored by the lively Italian who made him blush and stutter and grow wrinkles on his forehead, who roused a passion in him previously possible by only his sax and a tenderness he only showed his dogs. "I wonder if it's really that."
Roderich and Elizaveta were looking at a panting made by the artist himself during one of those rare afternoons they had gotten together in the townhouse and the brothers had been coerced to play, or even older days when Francis, Antonio and Lovino had been with them to dance.
"You know," Roderich began. "They all should come visit us here for a change."
"For once, I'll agree," Gilbert said with a grin. "It totally isn't awesome hanging out with you."
"Any more and you aren't getting cake tonight," Elizaveta said with a smile. The lawyer whined in complaint while the pianist laughed.
END
Category: Axis Powers Hetalia / Hetalia World Series
Characters/Pairings: Austria, Prussia, Hungary
Genre/Rating/Warnings: friendship, general/G/AU-Six Degrees verse
Summary/Excerpt: On the other side of the world, Roderich, Elizaveta and Gilbert share cheesecake beside a music studio, wondering if stories of their own are being weaved.
A/N: Happy birthday couryielle! Here be your fic request! ♥ Hope you enjoy and because of this I may write some sort of continuation that's GerIta X'DD y u do I do this to mahself
Kaffee und Kuchen
Roderich Edelstein wasn't interested in how Gilbert made it from Berlin to Passau in four hours instead of the regular six, not when he was almost run over as he bid goodbye to his last music class for the day.
"For the love of decency, Beilschmidt!" he exclaimed heatedly as the children and their parents scrambled to get out of the way.
Gilbert Beilschmidt proudly stepped out of his Mercedes and flashed a cocky grin at a few affronted mothers.
"Do act like a lawyer," Roderich said after having waved away his students with an apologetic smile. "Without the car and the suit, anyone would think you're a hooligan."
"Aw c'mon," Gilbert said cheerfully and clapped him hard on the back, making him cough. "The one weekend I actually get a break from work and you're still Mister Uptight! Where's Eli?"
"She's inside," Roderich told him. "You've got her cooking since this morning."
Gilbert's cheeks pinked slightly. "Woah, she really made what I asked? I was only joking."
His half-Austrian cousin gave him a withering look. "Don't let her hear you say that."
"Roger!"
Gilbert locked his car with a beep before following Roderich into their home. It was a large townhouse in the quiet suburbs left to them by their grandfather who had a temperament close to Ludwig's but a passion for music, which only Roderich seemed to have inherited and pursued.
Half the townhouse was a music studio where Roderich gave regular lessons in piano, his wife Elizaveta gave regular lessons in voice and a friend of theirs gave regular lessons in violin. One-third of the house was a music shop that sold classical pieces and hand crafted violins made by Roderich himself in a workshop by the garage. The perimeter was surrounded by edelweiss and other flowers, and there was an oak tree in the backyard. When the couple wasn't teaching, they were staging live open-air operas in Munich or Dresden. It was an envious life.
The sweet smell of rum, butter cake, ginger and cloves greeted them as they stepped into the dining room, curiously mingling with the smell of freshly carved wood and varnish that had laced the house ever since Gilbert was a little boy.
He took a great sniff and sighed contentedly. "Man, it's really been a while since I've been back."
"You're here!" Elizaveta greeted, coming from the kitchen with a steaming pot of brewed coffee and three cups. "How as the drive?"
"The roads were clear enough," Gilbert said. "No one out much this time of Saturday."
"Clear enough?" Roderich remarked with his eyebrow raised. "You'd think this moron was on the racing track. It was a miracle you didn't get a ticket."
"I was too fast for the highway cameras!"
Elizaveta laughed. "Well then, just in case the authorities trace you here, we'll say we don't know you."
They sat down at table. A humble fare of sandwiches with lettuce, cheese and sausages had already been laid out.
Roderich gave a huff of amusement. Gilbert opened and closed his mouth, unable to think of a witty comeback in time and simply said. "I'll just bullshit my way out of it."
"It's no wonder you're highly paid."
"I'll take that as a compliment!"
The three of them were childhood friends. Elizaveta had attended Kindergarten together with them and she was the manliest among them. She spent a lot of her afternoons at their home since her parents often returned late, working as doctors in the capital.
The townhouse was extremely lively back then. Both Gilbert's and Roderich's parents were very clean, neat sets of business people who had insisted their children learned some form of musical instrument. Their grandfather, who had still been alive, was only too happy to oblige. The repertoire of the instruments in the house had been much wider, including other strings such as the bass and cello, which Gilbert played and brass instruments like the saxophone, which Ludwig eventually picked up. Their grandfather had been especially fond of Elizaveta, whom he said could carry a tune unlike any other.
These peaceful afternoons filled with laughter and music went on for a while, until it was time for Gilbert to enter high school.
The firm his and Ludwig's parents worked in assigned them to a branch in Rome. Up till then, the brothers had seriously been considering a career in music. The move proved difficult, however, and Gilbert couldn't afford to keep playing the cello. Ludwig continued with his sax but only until senior year, when he decided he was going to be a veterinarian.
Gilbert knew that Roderich wouldn't be lying if he said he felt betrayed that time (like he'd ever admit it). Even their grandfather had been sorely disappointed to the see family part, and realizing that there was only one grandson to continue his tradition, taught the art of violin-making to Roderich, despite piano being his forte.
With Elizaveta, Gilbert hadn't known what to think. He still didn't.
"I'm going to miss you, Gil," she had said in a steady voice on the day of the move. She was holding his left hand in hers, tracing the slender, bony rise of his fingers honed by years of pressing strings and sliding over frets.
He watched her, remembering how her own hands once tore out his hair and punched his stomach, how they clasped together in quiet appreciation on her lap whenever she crept into the studio to listen to them play, or whenever she needn't accompany them singing.
"I love Roderich's hands," she suddenly said, still looking at Gilbert's. "They're hard hands." A gentle thumb under his palm. "Old hands." A reassuring grip. "A pianist shouldn't have those hands."
"Eli, look. I'm sorry-"
"It's okay," she said solidly, neither angry nor broken.
And in that moment, Gilbert had wondered if he just lost something he might have not wanted to lose and that Elizaveta hadn't wanted to lose either.
"It's okay," she repeated softly and let go.
Gilbert only realized what it was when he played a very rusty cello for her and Roderich on their wedding day.
"There's ginger rum cake in the oven and cheesecake in the fridge," Elizaveta said breathlessly as the boys finished their sandwiches. "Which one would you like first?"
"'M fine with any," Gilbert said and took a sip of his coffee.
"The cheesecake then, dear," Roderich said. "We can have the rum cake later this evening."
She left with a flourish.
"So?" the pianist continued, looking at his cousin. "Any news?"
"Nothing much," he began somewhat sulkily, having been lost in his thoughts. "Lud and Feli are back from Osaka."
"Did they have fun?"
"Oh yeah. A ton," Gilbert said and continued drinking his coffee, looking out the window and trying to hide his face in his cup. "Ludwig took the pictures. They met Francis, Antonio and Lovino. Even Feli's old classmate Kiku. Can you believe that?"
Roderich hummed. "It's a small world," he remarked daintily as Elizaveta returned with an exquisite looking cheesecake.
"What did I miss?" she asked as her husband sliced three pieces and handed them around.
"I was just saying that Lud and Feli are back from Osaka."
"Already? Did Feli find out about Lovino's and Antonio's break up?" she asked worriedly.
Gilbert snorted and took a generous bite of his cheesecake. It was sweet, creamy and tasted of home. "Oh yeah."
"How'd he take it?" Roderich asked, he and Elizaveta having stopped eating midway to look at him.
"Quite fine, actually. They even brought them back together."
Elizaveta glowed. "Really. Feliciano works magic everywhere."
"Magic, yeah…" Gilbert mumbled absently, remembering how his cool and composed little brother Ludwig had been absolutely enamored by the lively Italian who made him blush and stutter and grow wrinkles on his forehead, who roused a passion in him previously possible by only his sax and a tenderness he only showed his dogs. "I wonder if it's really that."
Roderich and Elizaveta were looking at a panting made by the artist himself during one of those rare afternoons they had gotten together in the townhouse and the brothers had been coerced to play, or even older days when Francis, Antonio and Lovino had been with them to dance.
"You know," Roderich began. "They all should come visit us here for a change."
"For once, I'll agree," Gilbert said with a grin. "It totally isn't awesome hanging out with you."
"Any more and you aren't getting cake tonight," Elizaveta said with a smile. The lawyer whined in complaint while the pianist laughed.
END