Warning! Swearing and sexual tension ahead. Turn back now if you are unequipped to deal with such things.
If not, full steam ahead!
“Where the hell is _____? She said she was coming back with those sandwiches ein week ago!”
“Relax, mon cheri. Our belle _____ has only been gone for twenty minutes, non?” (my dear...beautiful)
“Sí, Gilbert, relax. Our señorita bonita will be back soon.” (pretty lady)
Gilbert, Francis, and Antonio were all lounging in the backyard at your house. Your great-uncle had decided he wanted to spend his golden years travelling and had given you his house, a seven-bedroom estate in the country with an in-ground pool, a rose garden, and plenty of space. Needless to say, the three of them had pretty much moved in with you.
Toni was lying in a lounge chair reading a sports magazine with a soccer player on the cover, while Francis lay with his eyes closed in a chair beside the pool, soaking up the sun and sighing in contentment. Only Gilbert was irritated, wondering where you were and, subsequently, where the lunch you had promised them was.
He got up in impatience from the table he was sitting at underneath a big shade umbrella. “That’s it. Silly Frau probably got lost in there again und took our lunches with her. The awesome Prussia is going to go find them - her, find her!”
Antonio nodded absently, but Francis had fallen asleep. Gilbert got up then, heading into the house and deciding to start at the kitchen.
As he approached, he heard you moving around, humming happily to yourself. The way your kitchen was set up, he was able to see you long before you saw him, as you were facing the oven and he was coming up the hall. You were looking contentedly at the oven as you pulled it open to remove a big tray, putting it on the stovetop.
You were humming to yourself as you garnished the sandwiches, but then you started to sing happily. “~Carry on, my wayward bun/There’ll be eats when you are done/Lay your weary bread to rest/Don’t be dry no more~!”
Gilbert lost it then, laughing crazily. “Kesesese~! _____, did you just come up with that, or do you always sing theme songs to our lunches?!”
“Gil!” You blushed immediately at being caught, dropping the tin of dried basil you had been holding. It dropped and rolled away from you, and you followed it, ignoring Prussia for the time being.
You made a grab for it, but an unnaturally white hand snatched it up, and its owner grinned down at you. “You didn’t answer mein question, Frau.”
Red-faced, embarrassed, you glared up at him. “Give it back, Gil! You want to eat, don’t you?”
He lounged against the kitchen island, tossing the basil back and forth in his hands. “I waited this long already, didn’t I? I am so awesome I could live purely off of how awesome I am!”
“Ugh!” You growled in frustration, lunging for the basil.
He held it above your head with one hand, yawning, teasing, “Reach, Frau! Grow ein inch or two und you’ll have it! Kesese~!”
“Damn it, Gil!” You shouted in frustration, still reaching and still failing. You put a hand against his chest to get some leverage, and you were an inch closer to your spice for a second.
Only for a second, because Prussia pulled your hand away from his chest, holding it to the side so you couldn’t put it back. “No cheating, that’s not awesome at all!”
“No, what’s not awesome is spying on your friend while she’s making your lunch and then taking her herbs so she can’t even finish doing that!” You blurted in a rush, frowning.
He shook it mockingly above your head, grinning down at you through eyes like cool cherries on a warm summer day. “Too bad, Fraulein, you’re not getting it back so easily!”
“Well if you’d let go of my hand-!” You grunted, jumping to grab at the basil.
Prussia held it easily out of your reach, mocking, “Mein arm is getting tired.”
You dropped yours in a huff then before turning watery [e/c] eyes up to his. “Gil, I just…wanna finish these sandwiches. G-give it back.”
He had thought for a moment that you were playing him, but the hitch in your voice and the petulant way you were gritting your teeth to hold your lip steady convinced him. He dropped his arm then, holding the basil out to you. “H-Hey, _____, what’s going on with you? I was just messing around, I didn’t mean to-“
“To get tricked?” You teased, grinning as you basiled your and Antonio’s sandwiches.
“You bitch!” He laughed, tackling you.
“Ahh, Gil!” You yelped, tripping. “Jesus!” You landed on your ass on the kitchen floor, and Prussia landed on top of you. “Oof-! Gil, get off! Oww, son of a bitch!” You whined, rubbing your ass.
He only laughed. “Your ass is big enough to take a hit like that, nein?”
“Motherfucker! Take that back!” It was your turn to tackle him, and this time, you both landed on his back.
“What will you do if I don’t, Fraulein?” He teased, unconcerned, from beneath you.
You straddled his hips as you pinned him to the floor, but you reached one hand up to rummage in a drawer as you smirked. “This.”
You pulled a small container out of the drawer that looked sort of like a clear egg filled with liquid and wearing a gnome’s hat. Gil looked horrified when he saw that. “Nein, don’t! Is that-?”
“Food coloring.” You nodded. “Looks like blue. And if I drip this on you, Mr. Albino…” You began to giggle. “You’ll look like a smurf for a month!”
“Nein! Nein, that is so not awesome!” Prussia protested. “Bitte, bitte, what do I have to do, _____? Come on, name your price!”
“Apologize.” You smirked.
“Anything but that!” He cried. You reached for the cap, and he put up his hands in defense, blurting, “I’m sorry, Fraulein!”
You grinned, tossing the food coloring back into the drawer and sitting back on your haunches, hands on your hips as you grinned down at your friend. “There. Was that so hard?”
“Nein, I guess not.” He said in surprise. Then, he propped himself up on his elbows, grinning at you where you sat on his hips. “But I know something else that is.”
You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, nice try, Gil, I’m sitting on your lap, remember? I think I’d know if-“ You bounced on his lap to prove your point, then broke off abruptly, your eyes widening and your face turning red. “What the actual hell, Gilbert Beilschmidt?!”
You tried to scramble off of him, but his hands made their way to your hips, keeping you in position. He sat up slowly, leaning forward until he was in kissing distance, those ruby eyes never leaving your [matching gemstone] ones and the grin never leaving his face. “Nein, _____. Stay there, ja? We can-“
He broke off, stunned, as you slapped him. His eyes wide and hurt, he got to his feet, his hand to his cheek. He dropped it though, even more stunned, as he saw the tears in the corners of your eyes and knew that this time, you weren’t faking. “Fraulein, what-?”
“I’m not a whore, Gil.” You said angrily, hurt. “I know what you and Toni and Francis are like with women. But I’m not going to just jump in bed with you because you’re bored, you bastard! I thought-! We’re supposed to be friends, you know? I would’ve thought you’d care enough about my feelings to not want to just-!”
“_____.” He said softly, taking your hands. You looked down at the white hands wrapped around your [s/c] ones, but when you looked up into the rubies that glistened down at you, you were surprised to see them serious for once. “I don’t want to just anything. I want…you. You’ve heard Toni und Francis teasing me about not getting any lately, und why do you think that is?”
You shrugged, bewildered, and he laughed gently. “It’s your fault, liebe. Since we started hanging out with you, I…haven’t wanted to look at other women. At first I thought I was just off mein game, but that would’ve been ridiculous, because I’m too awesome for that. So I knew it was a choice, und once I figured that out, I knew why I was choosing to fail with every woman I came across. It’s…because they aren’t you.”
“What is wrong with you?” You whispered, baffled.
“What?” He asked, stunned. “You’re…turning me down?!”
“No, you idiot, but seriously?! Who confesses his feelings like that?! ‘Oh, hey, I’m Prussia, lemme just steal your basil, let you straddle me, get a boner, and then tell you it’s because I like you’! Are you serious?!”
He laughed. “Well, ja. I couldn’t do it like some normal loser, could I? That wouldn’t be awesome at all!” He scratched at his jaw. “Plus, I didn’t really want to tell you today. I just wanted my sandwich. But you looked so cute singing to our sandwiches~, I couldn’t resist!”
You sighed then, a hand on your hip, but you quirked a smile up at him. “So, hey. Are you gonna kiss me or what?”
He grinned. “Hell ja, Fraulein, I thought you’d never ask!”
If you had expected a soft, tender kiss, you would have been sorely disappointed, but luckily, you had actually expected the forceful, passionate way he pressed his mouth to yours. Expected, yes. Been prepared for? No.
The butterflies in your stomach came to life so abruptly you actually thought you were sick for a second before you realized you were just excited for the kiss. You grabbed him back, and in no time at all, the two of you found yourselves back on the floor, hands tangled in hair, bodies pressed together, and tongues twining.
You heard the door open just then, and you hissed, “Son of a cunt!” while Prussia growled, “Scheisse, I’m not missing out on this!”
Immediately, he scooped you up, sprinted out of the kitchen, and ran up the stairs with you. “Jesus!” You hissed, clutching him tightly to avoid falling.
“’Jesus’ is ein little formal. Just ‘Gilbert’ is fine.” He grinned.
“Oh my god.” You laughed quietly. “You arrogant, sexy bastard.”
Pulling open the first bedroom door he came to, he grinned as he entered and closed it behind him, heading purposefully toward the bed. “Speaking of bastards…let’s go make one, ja? Or I guess we can just practice.”
“Gil, honey…are you sure about this? Because I’m pretty sure it’s just your pickup lines that have been making you strike out.”
He dropped you onto the bed then, jumping in after you, wrapping a hand in your hair and pulling your head back to expose your throat to his mouth. He nibbled, kissed, and licked you into a panting mess before he brought his lips to your ear to murmur, “I’m sure, Mausi. I’m sure because I haven’t even tried for ein couple of months now.” (Mausi is a pet name like honey or baby; it means mouse.)
After that, your mouth stopped him from ruining those words by refusing to let any more out of his.
Downstairs, meanwhile, Antonio and Francis had found their lunches. Francis sighed happily. “Oh, ma belle _____ has outdone herself! French bread, warm, crusty on the outside and soft on the in, with the most delicately sliced meats I have ever seen and such a lovely garnish!”
“Sí, she really has!” Antonio grinned. “Tomato and mozzarella with balsamic vinaigrette, ahh!”
“I hope she isn’t really lost.” Francis fretted, looking at your [favorite sandwich]. “It was only a couple of weeks ago when she got lost in here for two days.”
“She’s probably just hiding from Gilbert somewhere.” Spain shrugged. “He must not have found her in here or that wurst and cheese on potato bread loaf would be gone.”
“Well, there is no sense in allowing this finely prepared meal to go to waste, non? She would not want that.”
“No, you’re right. We better eat.”
They ate, and afterwards, Spain yawned. “Well, I think it’s time for a little siesta. All this sun has me sleepy. I’ll catch you later on, okay?”
He waved, and he headed upstairs as France walked back out to the pool. Francis had just waded in and was preparing to dive under when he heard an unearthly screech, a thud, some Germanic shouting, and high-pitched Spanish prayers. Wide-eyed, he stared at the house, and he was finally able to make out some female English.
“Toni, you bastard! There are seven bedrooms in this house; why the hell did you have to pick this one?! Occupado!”
After a while, Antonio walked out to join France at the side of the pool. France’s jaw dropped as he looked at Spain’s black eye, and Spain just looked at him in amusement.
“Found them. Damn, she packs a punch, eh? They’re, ah…they’re gonna be busy for a while.”