Klein Liebe (4/7)
Title: Kleine Liebe - Chapter 4
Word Count: 3,500
Rating: T for language
Characters: Prussia, Canada, Russia
Summery: Thursday comes with a hockey game and a rather unwanted visitor. But Gilbert made a promise, so he'll have to deal with the russian bastard for now.
04
- COMRADES -
"No."
It was a simple word uttered that Thursday afternoon, and it sent Matthew into a bit of a panic.
Gilbert's face was stern, and Matthew didn't like the way it looked on the silverette. His white brows were pulled together, eyes narrowed, and lips drawn into a thin line as he stared at the small child next to him. Matthew felt something in his chest sink; some sort of premonition that doom was well on its way.
But that was all too true as Ivan was supposed to be coming over later that day.
…which was the precise reason why Gilbert was so unhappy at the moment.
The history with Gilbert and Ivan, or rather Russia and East Germany, was a rocky one. The two had never gotten along, or at least Gilbert had said so. Ivan had frequently commented on how much fun the days of the GDR were, but the creepy curl of his lips and eerie glint in his eyes seemed to say otherwise. It was certainly fun, but in Ivan's own little twisted way. Gilbert had more or less been terrified of the man, and though nowadays it was more of a suppressed rage, every once in a while when he was around the violet eyed Russian, Gilbert would find himself afraid.
That was one feeling the Awesome him just was not supposed to feel.
"Gil, I know you don't like him but-"
"I said no, Matthew." There was a slight twitch to the Albino's right eye, a clear sign that he wasn't going to have any of it.
Matthew let his head drop down helplessly. This was not his day. Definitely not. "Can't you at least deal with him for one day?" He looked up pleadingly, eyes wide and bottom lip sticking out in the slightest hint of a pout.
Gilbert had wavered slightly at the sudden change in Matthew's expression. Silently, he cursed himself for being such a sucker for cute things, and averted his ruby gaze to the television. "No." He ground out through gritted teeth. Matthew's face fell and he went back to staring at his feet.
"It's just for an hour or two…"
"No means no."
"You don't even have to be in the same room, Gil."
"And he doesn't even have to be in our house!"
"But he's my friend…"
"And something's obviously messed up in that head of yours because after what he put me through, I'd rather not even have to look at his ugly face."
"Gil, that's not nice."
Gilbert leveled a nasty glare with the small child sitting next to him. "Not nice?" He mumbled, and Matthew suddenly found himself regretting his words. "I can give you a pretty good picture of what not nice is, Kid. It's not pretty."
Matthew tensed slightly, "N-no, that's not what…I mean I…G-gil, please! I've been looking forward to this all week!" And suddenly he was big eyed and pouting again. "I don't want to have to cancel at the last minute, it's rude!"
"Well he can fucking deal with it himself!" Gilbert snapped. He turned his head to the side, purposefully avoiding the blue-violet gaze aimed at him.
"Just an hour! Please? That's all I'm asking! One hour!" Matthew edged towards the German, climbing to his hands and knees on the couch as he attempted to get the man to look at him. "Please!?"
All it took was one glance, one measly little turn of the neck and Gilbert's resolve cracked like an eggshell and shattered to pieces. The expression he received was just too…adorable to put it simply. The poor child had his hands clasped together and held under his chin as if he were praying, but his blue-violet eyes were wide open, lips pulled into a delicate pout and cheeks puffed out just ever so slightly. Gilbert couldn't help but stare, heavily fighting the urge to pet the child next to him. Instead, he opened his mouth, about to protest when his brain suddenly decided to take an alternate course.
"Fine."
Matthew's face instantly lit up and he threw himself at the Prussian. "Thank you!" He said, wrapping his arms around the older man's neck. "I promise he won't be here for long!" He pulled back, giving a quick kiss on Gilbert's cheek and then climbed off the couch and dashed up the stairs to find his hockey jersey.
Gilbert was left looking utterly perplexed and slightly alarmed. He blinked a few times and then slowly lifted a pale hand to touch the spot on his cheek. He couldn't help that he felt rather uneasy at just the simple contact. If Matthew had looked any older, he wouldn't have had a problem with it, and yet…
'Mathieu's a man.' Francis' words echoed through his head. 'Treat him like one.'
Gilbert exhaled heavily and turned to face the television. "Right…" He murmured softly. "Just act normal…"
Not a moment later and Matthew had practically jumped down the stairs and straight into Gilbert's lap. The smile was strained on the German's face at first, but after the two had gotten comfortable and Matthew had nestled into the large man's lap, his smile was normal, the same crooked grin it usually was.
It wasn't much, and Matthew had hardly even noticed it, but Gilbert planted a kiss to the top of his head.
Nothing's changed, he told himself. Nothing's wrong, and everything's just fine.
Later that day, however, things did indeed change for the worse.
-----
It started with the damned doorbell.
Gilbert had been in the kitchen, cleaning of a knife when it had gone off and he ended up slitting the palm of his hand. The knife dropped in the sink with a clatter and he swore loudly, hastily grabbing a cloth and holding it against the open wound. The doorbell went off a second time, and Gilbert hurriedly ran around the counter of the kitchen and yanked it open.
He was greeted with violet eyes and an almost too-innocent smile.
Gilbert stood there for a total of three point six seconds before he slammed the door and returned to the kitchen to clean his bleeding hand.
The doorbell rang a third time, and suddenly Matthew was at the foot of the stairs, hastily making his way to the door. It clicked open, and Gilbert listened as Ivan stepped inside, murmuring a 'thank you, little Matvey' and 'how is it that you are doing today?'. The childlike voice grated against his ears and suddenly his hand didn't hurt anymore. He quickly pulled it away from the cool water and fumbled through the drawers for some sort of bandage.
"Ah~ What a pleaser it is to see you, East. It has been a long time, da?"
Gilbert snapped his head back from peering into one of the cabinets and swore loudly when his skull made contact with the hard wood. "That's Prussia to you, bastard." He snarled, cringing ever so slightly when his head throbbed in protest to the loud noises. "And it hasn't been nearly long enough. I could have gone a few more centuries without seeing your ugly face."
Ivan stood in the entryway to the kitchen, a case of vodka in one hand, and the other one held up to his lips as he stifled a light laugh. Matthew had quickly slipped behind the large man to stand in between them in hopes that Gilbert wouldn't lunge at the Russian. He opened his little mouth to say something, but quickly back peddled when he saw the red stains on the kitchen cloth. "Gilbert!?" He hollered, hastily making his way over to the Silverette.
Gilbert waved him off, clenching the towel tighter in his hands. "It's nothin', Matt." He murmured, standing up. Matthew frowned.
"Like hell it is! What did you do!?" He made a grab for the injured hand, but Gilbert yanked it away.
"It's nothing, now drop it!" He snapped, eyes darting from the small child to the large hulking mass obstructing his way to the hallway.
Ivan smiled brightly and stepped forward. "It looks a bit more like nothing, Eas-"
"Prussia."
"Gilbert, Maybe you should let little Matvey take a look at it."
Ruby eyes narrowed to slits. "I'll take care of it myself." He growled before shoving passed Matthew and Ivan and jogging up the stairs. The two were left standing in the kitchen alone. Ivan couldn't help but notice the rather hurt expression on the little Canadian's face. He shifted, placing the vodka on the counter and kneeled down to where he was eyelevel with the child.
"East is merely over-reacting. Do not fret, little Matvey." He gave a reassuring pat to Matthew's shoulder.
"I…suppose…" Matthew murmured, staring at the staircase.
"I don't mean to be rude," Ivan started, letting his hand drop down to his knees. "But why is it that little Matvey is so…little now?"
The tiny Canadian jumped slightly. He flushed a deep red and smacked his forehead with his palm. "I-I'm so sorry! I forgot to tell you, didn't I!?" How could he possibly have forgotten? "I'll, erm, explain later. If you'll excuse me, I need to see if Gilbert's ok."
"I'll be in the living room then." Ivan said.
Matthew gave him a curt nod before running up the stairs.
Gilbert was hunched over the sink, furiously rubbing at his hand in a vain attempt to get the blood off of his skin. The cloth he was using had been coloured the same bright red as his hand, and the water tinted a light pink as it ran over his skin. Silently, he muttered to himself, cursing the Russian and making other obscene comments about doorbells and knives. Matthew stepped in quietly, shutting the door behind him with a small click.
"Gilbert…?" The incessant scrubbing and curses abruptly stopped and Gilbert craned his neck to peer down at the small child.
"Was?"
"Gil, what did you do to your hand…?"
"Ich…I cut it." The Albino paused briefly and hastily added in. "On accident. I was cleaning off some of the cutlery and…an-What's with that look?"
Matthew was pouting again ( a look that seemed to be appearing quite often lately, Gilbert dimly wondered if the little Canadian was doing it on purpose ). "You promised you'd put up with Ivan for today." He said sullenly.
Gilbert chewed on the inside of his cheek. Right…He had promised, hadn't he? He looked back down at his injured hand, assessing that the bleeding had seemed to stop slightly. With a heavy sigh, he wiped off the wound one last time and turned off the tap before digging through the cabinets for the first aid kit. "Yeah, I know…" He murmured. Matthew watched as he pulled out gauze and bandage tape. "I won't rip his throat out."
"Could you try not to yell at him either?"
"…Maybe…"
"A-and no death threats!"
"…Not even one…?" Gilbert looked up from his halfway wrapped up wound to stare at the small child beside him.
Matthew folded his arms across his chest. "Of course not! Gil, you promised!"
"And you really expect me to keep it?"
"Of course I do!"
The little room fell silent. Gilbert stared wearily down at Matthew, whilst Matthew glared up at Gilbert. No one seemed to want to say anything until Matthew spoke up. "Look," He shifted so he was staring at the ground again. "I know that you don' li- …that you hate Ivan, but I don't, and he's my friend." He glanced up. "And it's just for a hockey game which means he'll be gone in an hour or two. Y-you can handle him for that long, can't you…?"
Gilbert sighed heavily through his nose, staring at his bandaged hand. Oh how he wished he could just toss that large hulking atrocity out of his house, but the look Matthew was giving him, and that adorable little tone of voice he only used whenever he really wanted something. He turned around and leaned against the counter. "Fine." He murmured. "But you so owe me for this!"
Matthew smiled gently up at him. "Thanks, and please keep your promise this time."
Gilbert rolled his eyes, reaching out to scruff up the little boy's hair before he opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the hallway. "Sure, kid. No guarantee's though."
And with that, he headed downstairs to the kitchen to finish making snacks for the Hockey game. Ivan smiled politely from the living room couch, and it took all of Gilbert's will power not to jump over said couch and strangle the man. Instead, he gave a strained smile and quickly made his way over to the kitchen counter.
-----
Matthew was pleased to say that Gilbert had actually kept his promise. Although he was sitting on the opposite couch as he and Ivan were, the Albino was actually talking to the Russian. A little bit anyways. He would at least respond to questions he was asked, and maybe make a comment or two about how the game was going.
It was, Matthew had decided when they finally got to the second quarter, decidedly awkward.
In the hopes that the problem would fix itself, Matthew decided that just acting normal would do the trick, so he went on cheering for his team and doing little dances when they scored. He didn't miss the fact that Gilbert would watch him closely when he was doing his little jigs, and he'd always stop to grin at the German. But the Albino would always catch eye contact with Ivan and his bottle of vodka in hand and suddenly his expression turned sour and he quickly looked back at the television screen.
The third quarter had passed with relatively no scoring and very little exciting game play. Gilbert was slumped in his chair, glaring at the television set. Ivan was seated quietly, two empty vodka bottles placed on the table in front of him. His attention wasn't on the hockey game however.
"Little Matvey appears to have fallen asleep."
Gilbert looked over to Ivan and followed his violet gaze to the small child resting on the couch, head laid against the pillows and tiny hands curled into the fabric of the sofa. He was asleep alright…
"In the middle of a hockey game?" Gilbert mumbled, sitting up straighter and leaning forward to look at the sleeping child.
Ivan hummed delightedly. "The last quarter was quite boring, da? It does not surprise me much, really." He smiled brightly. "And I am sure the dancing he did last quarter has worn him out, da?"
Gilbert gave the large Russian a weary look before standing up. "Sure, I guess…" He grumbled as he stood over the sleeping figure. Carefully, he slipped his hands under the child's legs and shoulders and lifted him from the Couch. Matthew remained silent and sleeping, but unconsciously snuggled up to the warmth. Gilbert sighed heavily. "I'm gonna take him upstairs. I'll be right back."
"I'll be waiting." Ivan said with a smile.
Gilbert chose to ignore the rather chummy smile he received, and quickly made his way upstairs and to their bedroom. It was a bit of a hassle trying to open the door while his hands were full, but he managed and easily made his way over to the bed. Gently, he laid Matthew down, tucking him in and pulling the covers over the small body. Just as he was about to turn away, however, he paused, hands falling to rest at the edge of the blanket.
Matthew slept on silently, completely unaware of the man hovering over him. His breathing was light and easy, and that wayward curl of his bounced with every puff of air. Gilbert just stood there for several moments, watching the sleeping figure. Gently, he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair out of the little face.
Matthew's a man, Gilbert reminded himself. So nothing changes.
Very carefully, Gilbert leaned down and pressed his lips against Matthew's. He lingered only long enough to marvel at how soft the lips were, and how he still tasted of maple. But it was only meant to last a few seconds, and Gilbert pulled back to plant another kiss on Matthew's forehead. He pulled away slowly, murmuring a quiet "Shlaf gut, Klien Engel." Before he turned on his heel and headed towards the door.
He pulled the door shut quietly behind him and sighed heavily as he stared at the oaken door.
"Is it normal for a grown man to be intimate with a child?"
To say the voice startled him was an understatement. Gilbert jumped back, eyes wide and mouth falling open to let out a yell. He was stilled, however, when he locked gazes with a pair of deathly cold violet eyes.
…Russia…
"What are yo-"
"I asked a question, East."
Red eyes flicked towards the bathroom and then back. Escape, he had learned in the past, was quite a futile thing when it came to Russia. It didn't matter that he wasn't the large U.S.S.R. anymore; he still scared the shit out of Gilbert.
"I am growing impatient, East." Russia pushed off of the wall he was leaning against as Gilbert took a step back.
"No. No it's not normal." When the hell did his voice get so quiet and small? Gilbert did his best not to shudder or yell like he wanted to. Instead, he squared his shoulders and balled his hands into fists in a vain attempt to look stronger. It was thwarted easily by the other man's size however, and he shrank back when Russia took another step forward.
"Then why is it that you stay with Matvey when he is like this?"
"I-I don't-"
"There's a word for the relationship you two have right now, isn't there?"
Gilbert stiffened, Russia smiled, and suddenly the room temperature dropped to below freezing. It wasn't Russia's doing, however. The hulking mass stood, smile slowly widening until just the barest hints of teeth were showing behind pale lips. Gilbert had leveled such a malicious glare at the man, that Russia found it just a bit unnerving.
Just a bit, really, he was having too much fun to be bothered by it.
"If you dare say i-"
"Pedophilia."
And suddenly the room had dropped to sub-zero temperatures.
"…get out…"
Russia quirked an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side. "And why should I, East? Last I knew, you were in no position to give me orders."
"That was twenty years ago!"
"You forget, little East, You no longer have any power. You have no country or land."
"I-I have New Prussia!"
"A mere settlement? That does not sound very convincing. What next, East? You live for your people? Tell me, how many people actually claim to be Prussian these days?" Russia let his smile waver briefly. "You have nothing, Gilbert. You are nothing. You've been reduced to nothing more than a simple domesticity and an intimate relationship with a child."
"Just get out!" Gilbert snapped.
Russia seemed undaunted however, and stepped forward. Gilbert hastily tried to keep the distance between them even, but it was a futile effort. In a matter of seconds, he found himself face to face with those icy violet eyes, back pressed up against the wall.
"Matvey is very dear to me, East. I will not stand to have you harm him in any way." Russia reached up to grab Gilbert's face, holding it firmly in place so the German was forced to look him in the eye. "If you hurt him, East, just remember that I will be watching."
The cold hand left his face and Gilbert was only able to watch as Russia turned around and clomped down the stairs.
It wasn't much, but Gilbert dimly decided that he liked Ivan a whole lot more.
He slid down the wall until he was on the floor, staring at the railing of the stair way at the end of the hall. He was shaking, eyes wide and hands gripping at the carpet in a vain attempt to bring his nerves to ease.
Twenty years…Twenty years and Russia could still send him quaking in his boots.
Twenty years, and that violet eyed bastard still knew how to make him paranoid and uneasy, and just downright sick with himself.
( continue... )
Word Count: 3,500
Rating: T for language
Characters: Prussia, Canada, Russia
Summery: Thursday comes with a hockey game and a rather unwanted visitor. But Gilbert made a promise, so he'll have to deal with the russian bastard for now.
04
- COMRADES -
"No."
It was a simple word uttered that Thursday afternoon, and it sent Matthew into a bit of a panic.
Gilbert's face was stern, and Matthew didn't like the way it looked on the silverette. His white brows were pulled together, eyes narrowed, and lips drawn into a thin line as he stared at the small child next to him. Matthew felt something in his chest sink; some sort of premonition that doom was well on its way.
But that was all too true as Ivan was supposed to be coming over later that day.
…which was the precise reason why Gilbert was so unhappy at the moment.
The history with Gilbert and Ivan, or rather Russia and East Germany, was a rocky one. The two had never gotten along, or at least Gilbert had said so. Ivan had frequently commented on how much fun the days of the GDR were, but the creepy curl of his lips and eerie glint in his eyes seemed to say otherwise. It was certainly fun, but in Ivan's own little twisted way. Gilbert had more or less been terrified of the man, and though nowadays it was more of a suppressed rage, every once in a while when he was around the violet eyed Russian, Gilbert would find himself afraid.
That was one feeling the Awesome him just was not supposed to feel.
"Gil, I know you don't like him but-"
"I said no, Matthew." There was a slight twitch to the Albino's right eye, a clear sign that he wasn't going to have any of it.
Matthew let his head drop down helplessly. This was not his day. Definitely not. "Can't you at least deal with him for one day?" He looked up pleadingly, eyes wide and bottom lip sticking out in the slightest hint of a pout.
Gilbert had wavered slightly at the sudden change in Matthew's expression. Silently, he cursed himself for being such a sucker for cute things, and averted his ruby gaze to the television. "No." He ground out through gritted teeth. Matthew's face fell and he went back to staring at his feet.
"It's just for an hour or two…"
"No means no."
"You don't even have to be in the same room, Gil."
"And he doesn't even have to be in our house!"
"But he's my friend…"
"And something's obviously messed up in that head of yours because after what he put me through, I'd rather not even have to look at his ugly face."
"Gil, that's not nice."
Gilbert leveled a nasty glare with the small child sitting next to him. "Not nice?" He mumbled, and Matthew suddenly found himself regretting his words. "I can give you a pretty good picture of what not nice is, Kid. It's not pretty."
Matthew tensed slightly, "N-no, that's not what…I mean I…G-gil, please! I've been looking forward to this all week!" And suddenly he was big eyed and pouting again. "I don't want to have to cancel at the last minute, it's rude!"
"Well he can fucking deal with it himself!" Gilbert snapped. He turned his head to the side, purposefully avoiding the blue-violet gaze aimed at him.
"Just an hour! Please? That's all I'm asking! One hour!" Matthew edged towards the German, climbing to his hands and knees on the couch as he attempted to get the man to look at him. "Please!?"
All it took was one glance, one measly little turn of the neck and Gilbert's resolve cracked like an eggshell and shattered to pieces. The expression he received was just too…adorable to put it simply. The poor child had his hands clasped together and held under his chin as if he were praying, but his blue-violet eyes were wide open, lips pulled into a delicate pout and cheeks puffed out just ever so slightly. Gilbert couldn't help but stare, heavily fighting the urge to pet the child next to him. Instead, he opened his mouth, about to protest when his brain suddenly decided to take an alternate course.
"Fine."
Matthew's face instantly lit up and he threw himself at the Prussian. "Thank you!" He said, wrapping his arms around the older man's neck. "I promise he won't be here for long!" He pulled back, giving a quick kiss on Gilbert's cheek and then climbed off the couch and dashed up the stairs to find his hockey jersey.
Gilbert was left looking utterly perplexed and slightly alarmed. He blinked a few times and then slowly lifted a pale hand to touch the spot on his cheek. He couldn't help that he felt rather uneasy at just the simple contact. If Matthew had looked any older, he wouldn't have had a problem with it, and yet…
'Mathieu's a man.' Francis' words echoed through his head. 'Treat him like one.'
Gilbert exhaled heavily and turned to face the television. "Right…" He murmured softly. "Just act normal…"
Not a moment later and Matthew had practically jumped down the stairs and straight into Gilbert's lap. The smile was strained on the German's face at first, but after the two had gotten comfortable and Matthew had nestled into the large man's lap, his smile was normal, the same crooked grin it usually was.
It wasn't much, and Matthew had hardly even noticed it, but Gilbert planted a kiss to the top of his head.
Nothing's changed, he told himself. Nothing's wrong, and everything's just fine.
Later that day, however, things did indeed change for the worse.
-----
It started with the damned doorbell.
Gilbert had been in the kitchen, cleaning of a knife when it had gone off and he ended up slitting the palm of his hand. The knife dropped in the sink with a clatter and he swore loudly, hastily grabbing a cloth and holding it against the open wound. The doorbell went off a second time, and Gilbert hurriedly ran around the counter of the kitchen and yanked it open.
He was greeted with violet eyes and an almost too-innocent smile.
Gilbert stood there for a total of three point six seconds before he slammed the door and returned to the kitchen to clean his bleeding hand.
The doorbell rang a third time, and suddenly Matthew was at the foot of the stairs, hastily making his way to the door. It clicked open, and Gilbert listened as Ivan stepped inside, murmuring a 'thank you, little Matvey' and 'how is it that you are doing today?'. The childlike voice grated against his ears and suddenly his hand didn't hurt anymore. He quickly pulled it away from the cool water and fumbled through the drawers for some sort of bandage.
"Ah~ What a pleaser it is to see you, East. It has been a long time, da?"
Gilbert snapped his head back from peering into one of the cabinets and swore loudly when his skull made contact with the hard wood. "That's Prussia to you, bastard." He snarled, cringing ever so slightly when his head throbbed in protest to the loud noises. "And it hasn't been nearly long enough. I could have gone a few more centuries without seeing your ugly face."
Ivan stood in the entryway to the kitchen, a case of vodka in one hand, and the other one held up to his lips as he stifled a light laugh. Matthew had quickly slipped behind the large man to stand in between them in hopes that Gilbert wouldn't lunge at the Russian. He opened his little mouth to say something, but quickly back peddled when he saw the red stains on the kitchen cloth. "Gilbert!?" He hollered, hastily making his way over to the Silverette.
Gilbert waved him off, clenching the towel tighter in his hands. "It's nothin', Matt." He murmured, standing up. Matthew frowned.
"Like hell it is! What did you do!?" He made a grab for the injured hand, but Gilbert yanked it away.
"It's nothing, now drop it!" He snapped, eyes darting from the small child to the large hulking mass obstructing his way to the hallway.
Ivan smiled brightly and stepped forward. "It looks a bit more like nothing, Eas-"
"Prussia."
"Gilbert, Maybe you should let little Matvey take a look at it."
Ruby eyes narrowed to slits. "I'll take care of it myself." He growled before shoving passed Matthew and Ivan and jogging up the stairs. The two were left standing in the kitchen alone. Ivan couldn't help but notice the rather hurt expression on the little Canadian's face. He shifted, placing the vodka on the counter and kneeled down to where he was eyelevel with the child.
"East is merely over-reacting. Do not fret, little Matvey." He gave a reassuring pat to Matthew's shoulder.
"I…suppose…" Matthew murmured, staring at the staircase.
"I don't mean to be rude," Ivan started, letting his hand drop down to his knees. "But why is it that little Matvey is so…little now?"
The tiny Canadian jumped slightly. He flushed a deep red and smacked his forehead with his palm. "I-I'm so sorry! I forgot to tell you, didn't I!?" How could he possibly have forgotten? "I'll, erm, explain later. If you'll excuse me, I need to see if Gilbert's ok."
"I'll be in the living room then." Ivan said.
Matthew gave him a curt nod before running up the stairs.
Gilbert was hunched over the sink, furiously rubbing at his hand in a vain attempt to get the blood off of his skin. The cloth he was using had been coloured the same bright red as his hand, and the water tinted a light pink as it ran over his skin. Silently, he muttered to himself, cursing the Russian and making other obscene comments about doorbells and knives. Matthew stepped in quietly, shutting the door behind him with a small click.
"Gilbert…?" The incessant scrubbing and curses abruptly stopped and Gilbert craned his neck to peer down at the small child.
"Was?"
"Gil, what did you do to your hand…?"
"Ich…I cut it." The Albino paused briefly and hastily added in. "On accident. I was cleaning off some of the cutlery and…an-What's with that look?"
Matthew was pouting again ( a look that seemed to be appearing quite often lately, Gilbert dimly wondered if the little Canadian was doing it on purpose ). "You promised you'd put up with Ivan for today." He said sullenly.
Gilbert chewed on the inside of his cheek. Right…He had promised, hadn't he? He looked back down at his injured hand, assessing that the bleeding had seemed to stop slightly. With a heavy sigh, he wiped off the wound one last time and turned off the tap before digging through the cabinets for the first aid kit. "Yeah, I know…" He murmured. Matthew watched as he pulled out gauze and bandage tape. "I won't rip his throat out."
"Could you try not to yell at him either?"
"…Maybe…"
"A-and no death threats!"
"…Not even one…?" Gilbert looked up from his halfway wrapped up wound to stare at the small child beside him.
Matthew folded his arms across his chest. "Of course not! Gil, you promised!"
"And you really expect me to keep it?"
"Of course I do!"
The little room fell silent. Gilbert stared wearily down at Matthew, whilst Matthew glared up at Gilbert. No one seemed to want to say anything until Matthew spoke up. "Look," He shifted so he was staring at the ground again. "I know that you don' li- …that you hate Ivan, but I don't, and he's my friend." He glanced up. "And it's just for a hockey game which means he'll be gone in an hour or two. Y-you can handle him for that long, can't you…?"
Gilbert sighed heavily through his nose, staring at his bandaged hand. Oh how he wished he could just toss that large hulking atrocity out of his house, but the look Matthew was giving him, and that adorable little tone of voice he only used whenever he really wanted something. He turned around and leaned against the counter. "Fine." He murmured. "But you so owe me for this!"
Matthew smiled gently up at him. "Thanks, and please keep your promise this time."
Gilbert rolled his eyes, reaching out to scruff up the little boy's hair before he opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the hallway. "Sure, kid. No guarantee's though."
And with that, he headed downstairs to the kitchen to finish making snacks for the Hockey game. Ivan smiled politely from the living room couch, and it took all of Gilbert's will power not to jump over said couch and strangle the man. Instead, he gave a strained smile and quickly made his way over to the kitchen counter.
-----
Matthew was pleased to say that Gilbert had actually kept his promise. Although he was sitting on the opposite couch as he and Ivan were, the Albino was actually talking to the Russian. A little bit anyways. He would at least respond to questions he was asked, and maybe make a comment or two about how the game was going.
It was, Matthew had decided when they finally got to the second quarter, decidedly awkward.
In the hopes that the problem would fix itself, Matthew decided that just acting normal would do the trick, so he went on cheering for his team and doing little dances when they scored. He didn't miss the fact that Gilbert would watch him closely when he was doing his little jigs, and he'd always stop to grin at the German. But the Albino would always catch eye contact with Ivan and his bottle of vodka in hand and suddenly his expression turned sour and he quickly looked back at the television screen.
The third quarter had passed with relatively no scoring and very little exciting game play. Gilbert was slumped in his chair, glaring at the television set. Ivan was seated quietly, two empty vodka bottles placed on the table in front of him. His attention wasn't on the hockey game however.
"Little Matvey appears to have fallen asleep."
Gilbert looked over to Ivan and followed his violet gaze to the small child resting on the couch, head laid against the pillows and tiny hands curled into the fabric of the sofa. He was asleep alright…
"In the middle of a hockey game?" Gilbert mumbled, sitting up straighter and leaning forward to look at the sleeping child.
Ivan hummed delightedly. "The last quarter was quite boring, da? It does not surprise me much, really." He smiled brightly. "And I am sure the dancing he did last quarter has worn him out, da?"
Gilbert gave the large Russian a weary look before standing up. "Sure, I guess…" He grumbled as he stood over the sleeping figure. Carefully, he slipped his hands under the child's legs and shoulders and lifted him from the Couch. Matthew remained silent and sleeping, but unconsciously snuggled up to the warmth. Gilbert sighed heavily. "I'm gonna take him upstairs. I'll be right back."
"I'll be waiting." Ivan said with a smile.
Gilbert chose to ignore the rather chummy smile he received, and quickly made his way upstairs and to their bedroom. It was a bit of a hassle trying to open the door while his hands were full, but he managed and easily made his way over to the bed. Gently, he laid Matthew down, tucking him in and pulling the covers over the small body. Just as he was about to turn away, however, he paused, hands falling to rest at the edge of the blanket.
Matthew slept on silently, completely unaware of the man hovering over him. His breathing was light and easy, and that wayward curl of his bounced with every puff of air. Gilbert just stood there for several moments, watching the sleeping figure. Gently, he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair out of the little face.
Matthew's a man, Gilbert reminded himself. So nothing changes.
Very carefully, Gilbert leaned down and pressed his lips against Matthew's. He lingered only long enough to marvel at how soft the lips were, and how he still tasted of maple. But it was only meant to last a few seconds, and Gilbert pulled back to plant another kiss on Matthew's forehead. He pulled away slowly, murmuring a quiet "Shlaf gut, Klien Engel." Before he turned on his heel and headed towards the door.
He pulled the door shut quietly behind him and sighed heavily as he stared at the oaken door.
"Is it normal for a grown man to be intimate with a child?"
To say the voice startled him was an understatement. Gilbert jumped back, eyes wide and mouth falling open to let out a yell. He was stilled, however, when he locked gazes with a pair of deathly cold violet eyes.
…Russia…
"What are yo-"
"I asked a question, East."
Red eyes flicked towards the bathroom and then back. Escape, he had learned in the past, was quite a futile thing when it came to Russia. It didn't matter that he wasn't the large U.S.S.R. anymore; he still scared the shit out of Gilbert.
"I am growing impatient, East." Russia pushed off of the wall he was leaning against as Gilbert took a step back.
"No. No it's not normal." When the hell did his voice get so quiet and small? Gilbert did his best not to shudder or yell like he wanted to. Instead, he squared his shoulders and balled his hands into fists in a vain attempt to look stronger. It was thwarted easily by the other man's size however, and he shrank back when Russia took another step forward.
"Then why is it that you stay with Matvey when he is like this?"
"I-I don't-"
"There's a word for the relationship you two have right now, isn't there?"
Gilbert stiffened, Russia smiled, and suddenly the room temperature dropped to below freezing. It wasn't Russia's doing, however. The hulking mass stood, smile slowly widening until just the barest hints of teeth were showing behind pale lips. Gilbert had leveled such a malicious glare at the man, that Russia found it just a bit unnerving.
Just a bit, really, he was having too much fun to be bothered by it.
"If you dare say i-"
"Pedophilia."
And suddenly the room had dropped to sub-zero temperatures.
"…get out…"
Russia quirked an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side. "And why should I, East? Last I knew, you were in no position to give me orders."
"That was twenty years ago!"
"You forget, little East, You no longer have any power. You have no country or land."
"I-I have New Prussia!"
"A mere settlement? That does not sound very convincing. What next, East? You live for your people? Tell me, how many people actually claim to be Prussian these days?" Russia let his smile waver briefly. "You have nothing, Gilbert. You are nothing. You've been reduced to nothing more than a simple domesticity and an intimate relationship with a child."
"Just get out!" Gilbert snapped.
Russia seemed undaunted however, and stepped forward. Gilbert hastily tried to keep the distance between them even, but it was a futile effort. In a matter of seconds, he found himself face to face with those icy violet eyes, back pressed up against the wall.
"Matvey is very dear to me, East. I will not stand to have you harm him in any way." Russia reached up to grab Gilbert's face, holding it firmly in place so the German was forced to look him in the eye. "If you hurt him, East, just remember that I will be watching."
The cold hand left his face and Gilbert was only able to watch as Russia turned around and clomped down the stairs.
It wasn't much, but Gilbert dimly decided that he liked Ivan a whole lot more.
He slid down the wall until he was on the floor, staring at the railing of the stair way at the end of the hall. He was shaking, eyes wide and hands gripping at the carpet in a vain attempt to bring his nerves to ease.
Twenty years…Twenty years and Russia could still send him quaking in his boots.
Twenty years, and that violet eyed bastard still knew how to make him paranoid and uneasy, and just downright sick with himself.
( continue... )