APH: Holiday Switch (3/3)
Title: Holiday Switch (Part Three)
Author: grosse_averse
Rating: PG-13 for some suggestiveness?
Characters: Germany, North Italy, America, France, and England are all eventually in this as well!
Notes: For the Secret Santa exchange over at prussiaxcanada. The prompt was Christmas together. How do Prussia and Canada celebrate Christmas? FUCK so I’m really late with this last part. Sorry for the wait, but please enjoy the last part!
Part One
Part Two
December 21
Gilbert was nervous.
Okay, that was a lie. There was no way someone as awesome as he was could be nervous. But here he was in Canada, waking up in the arms of a very sleepy, snuggly blond, and he had no ideas for a present.
None.
And there were four days until Christmas. Gilbert sat up, taking Matthew with him. The boy was practically wrapped around his waist and, jolted from sleep, murmured something unintelligible while shifting so he was lying across Gilbert’s lap. His shirt was rucked up a bit, and Gilbert examined with interest the smooth pale slice of skin that was revealed to him as Matthew attempted to get comfortable.
“Where’re you goin’?” Matthew asked, putting one warm hand on Gilbert’s knee. “‘S early.”
“Liebling, you’re like a sack of potatoes.” Gilbert complained, trying to shift the boy off his knees. “And you’re makin’ parts of me rise early, so c’mon, up you go...”
Matthew allowed himself to be pushed and pulled until he was lying flat on the bed again, wrapped in sheets. Gilbert allowed himself a quick linger, before getting out of bed.
“Stay here.” he ordered sternly, though he didn’t know why he bothered because Matthew was nearly asleep anyways. “I gotta go...uh...do something.”
“Jeez, that’s not....suspicious at all...” Matthew yawned, already rolling over again so he could bask in the warmth of the morning sun. Gilbert feigned offense.
“Oh, please, I’m a master of subtlety.” he snorted, and ignored the muffled sound of Matthew laughing into his pillow.
Downstairs, Gilbert flipped desperately through Matthew’s ancient Rolodex, which looked like it was abandoned sometime in the nineties, for Alfred’s number. There were several listed, and Gilbert scowled at them for a few seconds before he decided to fuck it all and steal Matthew’s cellphone.
Kumajirou growled low in his throat when Gilbert returned to the bedroom and started rifling through Matthew’s jacket, tossed carelessly over the dresser from their rather impromptu entrance last night. Gilbert turned to scratch the bear briefly behind his ears, waited for the growl to turn into a pleased rumble, and slipped Matthew’s cell into his pocket.
“Man, for someone who forgets his goddamn name, you’re really fucking protective of him.” he muttered sourly at the bear, who stretched out a paw cajolingly to Gilbert in an attempt to get the ex-nation to rub his belly.
Alfred sounded as asleep as his brother, yawning loudly and abruptly into the phone.
“Fuck, Mattie, I didn’t forget!” he snapped before Gilbert could get a word in. “I’m comin’ on the next flight but it’s not for a little while...”
“Shut up, Yank, it’s me.” Gilbert interrupted, and Alfred made a noise of surprise.
“Gilbert?” he demanded. “Why do you have Matt’s phone?”
“He’s asleep.” was Gilbert’s answer. “Listen, I need your help.”
Now Alfred was awake.
“Well,” he said knowingly, “As a hero I cannot refuse any plea for help, no matter what time it is!”
“It’s not a plea!” Gilbert snapped, irritated. “It’s just that I sort of don’t have a present for Matt yet and I don’t know what he’d like so I was wondering, if Matt was goin’ to get a present, what would he like?”
There was a stunned silence.
“You’re asking me?” Alfred demanded. “Shit, I dunno...uh...maple syrup?”
Gilbert rolled his eyes. “What did you get him?” he asked.
“Gears of War 2.” came the proud reply. Gilbert laughed.
“Does Matt even play video games?” he snorted. “He doesn’t have an Xbox 360.”
“Whoa, really?” Alfred sounded absolutely baffled as to why his younger brother did not have an Xbox 360. “I should go out and get him one, then.”
“Listen!” Gilbert felt like they were getting off topic. “You’re his fucking brother, you’re telling me you have no idea?!”
“Hmm.” Alfred sighed noisily into the receiver, filling Gilbert’s ear with crackles. The ex-nation scowled. “Well, if I was Artie - and I’m not, because that’d be horrible - I’d say something like, “as long as it comes from the heart he’ll really like it”. Or something. Hey, was that a good impression, or what?”
“You’re useless.” Gilbert told him flatly, and hung up in the middle of Alfred’s shocked protests. Sighing, he stalked angrily around Matthew’s house, debating. Maybe he should go through the Canadian’s things to get some ideas? He was interrupted in his thoughts when Matthew came padding downstairs, wearing one of Gilbert’s shirts. To be fair, the Prussian just couldn’t concentrate when Matthew was wearing his clothes. He was just too adorable.
“I should just give you my shirt if you keep wearing it,” Gilbert muttered to keep up the pretense, wrapping arms around Matthew’s waist. Matthew let him, eyes still bleary with sleep.
“What are you doing down here?” he asked, ignoring his statement. “Why d’you have my cell phone?”
“Oh!” Gilbert exclaimed, louder than necessary, in Matthew’s ear. “Wow, is this your phone, no way, I thought it felt less awesome than usual! Here ya go.”
Matthew shook his head. “I’m not even going to bother asking.” he declared. “Alfred’s going to be here around two, and Arthur and Francis will be here on the twenty third. I need to go out for errands this afternoon, are you coming with me?”
“Uh, I’ll stay here.” Gilbert said quickly. “To...shower. Yeah. I need to shower.”
“Oh...kay.” Matthew gave him an odd look. “Did you break something? I won’t be mad.”
Gilbert laughed. “Oh Mattie! Don’t be ridiculous! When have I ever broken anything at your house?”
Matthew didn’t dignify that with a response.
“I’m going to go get changed.” he said instead. “Don’t get into trouble.”
Gilbert pouted.
--
When Alfred arrived at his brother’s house, using the spare key under the mat, he found Gilbert in the office, furiously clicking through pages of eBay items. Alfred whistled under his breath, shifting his suitcase in his hands.
“You are screwed.” he said simply. Gilbert jumped.
“Fuck how’d you get in?” he asked. Alfred held up the spare key. Gilbert frowned.
“I thought I was the only one who knew about that.”
“Nope.” Alfred replied. “Family secret. Well. Not anymore obviously. So what’re you gonna do?”
Gilbert closed the window with an angry mouse click. “Fuck, I dunno.”
“Maple syrup.” Alfred reminded him helpfully. Gilbert glared at him.
“Wow, that’s new.” he snorted. “I bet everyone loves your presents.”
Alfred missed the sarcasm. “Yeah, they do. How could they not?”
Gilbert stood up and left Alfred standing in the office.
“I gotta go out.” he declared, pulling on his jacket. “Tell...uh, tell Mattie I’ll be back soon.”
“Uh, sure?” Alfred asked, scratching his head. “You’re a weirdo, Gil.”
“Shut up, Yank.” Gilbert shot back, and was out the door before Alfred could react.
Outside, Gilbert was on the phone to Ludwig as he strode down the sidewalk. The German sounded irritated when he answered.
“What did you get Feliciano for Christmas?” the ex-nation demanded. There was a pause.
“Why...”
“Just answer, West, I’m desperate here!” as he walked, Gilbert kept snatching looks at shop windows, wondering wildly if anything would be suitable for Matthew.
“I got him some new cooking ware, for his pasta.” Ludwig answered finally, and Gilbert huffed. Well, that was no good. No ideas there.
“In the set there is a very large pot,” Ludwig continued, ignoring his brother’s sigh. “And I put the ring in there.”
“The what?!” Gilbert stopped dead - a woman almost ran into him. “The what, West, what, holy shit, I didn’t know you had the balls to do that!”
“Well, thank you.” Ludwig muttered. Gilbert talked over him.
“Congratulations, Bruder!” the ex-nation crowed. “Shit, lookit you! I guess I raised you to be a man after all! Wow, that’s crazy! Shit!”
“Stop saying shit.” Ludwig told him sternly. “Why do you want to know what I got Feliciano?”
Gilbert wasn’t listening. “Well fuck me, I guess it’s a good thing I’m staying with Matt, huh? You two’ll be going at it like rabbits once Feli finds that ring!” this was followed by laughter Ludwig recognized as Gilbert’s fake I’m totally not feeling alone! laugh.
“Bruder,” Ludwig said patiently, “I’m sure Canada will like whatever you get him.”
“Ha! ha! I know!” Gilbert practically hollered. “I mean, how could he not? It’s awesome, you should see it West, it’s positively awesome! I have to go!”
“Of course. Merry Christmas, East.” Ludwig said. Gilbert closed his phone with a snap, wondering for a moment if he would be able to hear Feliciano’s excitement from here, when the little Italian discovered just what was in his new cooking ware.
This time he phoned Antonio, regardless as to the time zones - when the Spaniard answered, Gilbert could hear swearing the background, noises that increased in volume as Antonio chirped a cheerful hello.
“Antonio, what’d you get Lovino for Christmas?” Gilbert said by way of a greeting.
“Mm?” Antonio hesitated for a moment. “Ah, I can’t tell you!”
“Why not?” Gilbert demanded. “I won’t tell your bad mannered tomato boy, promise.”
“No no, it’s not that.” Antonio assured. “I can’t tell you what I got Lovino for Christmas because he’s sitting on me right now.”
“YOU BASTARD!” came Lovino’s voice over the line, and then the Spaniard’s smooth lilting Spanish as he tried to soothe him. “DON’T TELL YOUR FRIENDS SHIT LIKE THAT! I’M LEAVING, YOU CAN SPEND CHRISTMAS ON YOUR OWN.”
“I have to go~!” Antonio told him, and hung up.
“Fuck.” Gilbert said. “Now who else am I going to call?”
“What the fuck. I’m going to come over there and shoot you.” Well, not Switzerland.
“Lili, put the phone down. If he calls you again tell him your brother is going to come after him.” Not Liechtenstein either.
“I was in the middle of a concerto.” Not that sissy Austria.
Elizaveta made some sort of noise when she answered, not even a greeting at all, but Gilbert didn’t wait for her to form words.
“I need your help.” he told her. “I need to think of a present for Matthew.”
Silence. “...what kind of present?” Elizaveta reluctantly asked. Gilbert did an inward fist pump.
“Just...I dunno. Something that will make him happy! He’s practically a girl anyways, so I figured you, of all people - ”
“I’m hanging up the phone.”
“Liz, wait!” Gilbert exclaimed, forcing his tone into the softer one he usually used to get favors. “I meant that I’m out of ideas and I know you’re really good at getting gifts for people.”
Flattery. Good job Gilbert - if there was one thing Elizaveta liked, that was compliments. Already he could feel her warming up to him over the phone.
“Are you just telling me this so I won’t hang up on you?” Elizaveta asked. Gilbert winced.
“Goddammit Liz.” he seethed. Elizaveta laughed.
“Well, I suppose I shouldn’t hang up and leave poor Canada to your horrible gift giving ideas.”
Gilbert listened, intently, as the woman began listing off several ideas. Most of them were duds, but then the Hungarian nation said something that sent off a spark in Gilbert’s mind.
“Whoa, Liz, that’s it, it’s perfect!” he exclaimed. “Shit, for a girl you’re pretty good!”
“Wow.” was all Elizaveta could mutter.
“Merry Christmas!” Gilbert told her, already taking off down the street. “Give your husband a big wet kiss for me, huh, Liz?”
“Merry Christmas, you bozo!” Elizaveta told him, in that tone that signaled she was trying to keep her reluctant laughter in. Gilbert snapped his phone closed and dodged several passer bys.
He hoped the stores weren’t closed.
December 24th
"We put the tinsel on after the decorations, Alfred!"
"Well, why? Just put everything on! The bigger the better, right?"
"You cannot just throw things onto a Christmas tree, l'Amerique. You must have a designer's eye - !"
"No one cares, frog!"
Matthew sighed fondly. Gilbert looked disgruntled.
"They're always like this?" he didn't know why he bothered making that a question. Matthew laughed.
"Yeah. They're usually meaner than this, but it's Christmas after all." Matthew nudged his boyfriend and slipped a mug of hot chocolate into his hands. "You should have seen the time I invited England's brothers over. We all tried to play a board game and Arthur ended up strangling Ireland against the mantle."
"What was that?" Arthur asked, arms stretched over his head in an attempt to place an ornament on the top branches of the Christmas tree.
"Nothing!" Matthew replied as Francis cruelly prodded Arthur in the side, causing the Englishman to seize up in surprise and topple backwards. The resulting crash caused the angel at the top to waver precariously.
Gilbert watched Matthew untangle strings of beads for a moment, watching the way the blond cocked his head in concentration, how his eyes caught the light, how patiently he threaded his fingers through the beads.
"Is something wrong?" Matthew asked, concerned, when he looked up and met Gilbert's eyes. Gilbert looked away with a grunt, and watched Alfred shower tinsel all over the tree. Slowly his hand slid over to thread through Matthew's. The younger nation blinked behind his glasses, before squeezing Gilbert's hand.
"You've been acting weird lately." Matthew told him. "Are you sure nothing's wrong?"
"It's nothing." Gilbert told him, waving away his concern. "Nothing the awesome me couldn't handle!"
Matthew's smile was soft but disbelieving. "Right." he said. "Okay. If you're sure."
I'm sure, Gilbert thought as Matthew unknotted the length of beads so they pooled in loose loops in his laps. You make me feel sure of everything
--
“Gilbert Beilschmidt.” the voice in Gilbert’s ear sounded amused. “I almost missed you this year.”
Roused from sleep, brushing some of Matthew’s hair from his face, Gilbert looked up into the face of a squat, ugly demon. Horns protruded like spikes from its head, and its twisted face was lit up with malice.
In anyone else this creature would provoke horror. In Gilbert’s case, he and it were practically old friends.
Practically being the key word here, because it was annoying as fuck.
“Hey, yeah.” he yawned, careful not to jostle Matthew as he sat up to face the creature fully - it was sitting at the foot of the bed, clawed feet drawn up under it, head cocked, pointed ears twitching. “What a shame that would have been, huh?”
The creature looked amused. “And look what this Christmas brought you!” it said, shifting. The chain hanging from its shoulders made an ominous sound. “A lovely little blond in your bed. How long will this one last?”
Gilbert put his hand protectively on Matthew’s shoulder. “Don’t you have children to be beating, or something?” he asked. “Go away.”
The creature grinned, sharp teeth in a rotting mouth. “Ah, but I missed seeing you!” it said. “Your blond was good this year, but you were very, very bad. As usual. What would be a fitting punishment for a hell child like you?”
“I don’t think I could stand it if you left.” Gilbert said dryly. “So maybe you could, uh, you know, get the fuck out of my bedroom.”
The creature looked around. “This isn’t your bedroom.” it pointed out. “Though you have made yourself comfortable, I see!”
“Fuck off, Krampus.” Gilbert said icily, as the creature moved forward to put one clawed hand on Matthew’s ankle. “I swear to God, touch him again and you’re dead.”
The Krampus looked amused. “And what makes you think you are worthy of such a nice thing, hm?” it asked. “Hundreds of years and you have not changed at all, Gilbert Beilschmidt. Why should you deserve happiness?”
“I’m trying.” Gilbert said in a tight, angry voice, forcing his hand to relax its death grip on his sleeping boyfriend. “I’m trying, for him. Get it, asshole?”
The Krampus gave Matthew’s ankle a little tug. The Canadian murmured something in his sleep as Gilbert sprang from the bed, scarlet eyes narrowed. The Krampus hopped away as Gilbert’s hands curled into fists, laughing in a curiously wheezing sort of way.
“I don’t like seeing good things happen to bad people, Gilbert Beilschmidt!” it cackled. “Next December you had better hope you do not see me!”
Gilbert scowled. “I am way too old to be believing in fairy tales, thanks.” he sniffed. “Anyways, I think Canada’s out of your jurisdiction, so if you don’t mind...?”
Reluctantly the Krampus, with another curious look at Matthew, slunk to the doorway.
“Merry Christmas, Gilbert Beilschmidt.” it told the ex-nation. “Maybe next year will bring a surprise for me, hm?”
After the Krampus had left, Gilbert spent a few minutes watching over his sleeping boyfriend, enjoying the way Matthew wriggled in his sleep when Gilbert prodded him with his toes. Gilbert thought of his present, of the little jewelry box wrapped in paper that lay under Matthew’s Christmas tree, and grimaced.
What was he doing? He had half a mind to go downstairs and take it back, hide it in his luggage and feed Matthew some shit story about not getting him a present. It was better than the potential humiliation he faced, having Matthew open that in front of his family, pulling it out, maybe staring at it before rejecting it...
With an agitated snort, Gilbert flopped down next to Matthew and flung an arm carefully over his shoulders. Matthew rolled over and easily fit into the space Gilbert had made, top of his head pressed into the crook of Gilbert’s neck.
“Fuck, liebling, if I didn’t know better I’d say I was going crazy.” he muttered, at which point Matthew, fed up with the constant noise while he was trying to sleep, growled under his breath, “Go to bed. You don’t know how early we will have to get up tomorrow, unless Arthur has found a way to lock Alfred in his room this year.”
Gilbert, who had been around Matthew long enough to know that tone meant business, complied.
December 25th
Nope, Matthew thought to himself sourly as he was awoken by his elder brother jumping, cannonball-style, into his bed, not this year. Gilbert shouted something angrily in German as Alfred bounced up and down on the bed.
“C’mon, c’mon, what are you still sleeping for, it’s Christmas, get up, come on!” Alfred was urging, slapping Matthew enthusiastically on the thigh. Matthew moved, gripping Gilbert around the waist as the ex-nation made a sleepy, irritated swing at Alfred’s enthusiastic face.
“It happens every year,” he moaned at his boyfriend. “Just let it happen.”
“Don’t go back to bed!” Alfred warned them as he crouched at the foot of the bed, much like the Krampus before him, much less menacing but somehow just as annoying. “If you do I’m coming up here with a bucket of cold water!”
“He’ll do it too.” Matthew muttered into Gilbert’s midsection. “C’mon, get up, I don’t want to dry these sheets if he finds you sleeping.”
“Coffee.” Gilbert grunted, and Matthew ran a soothing hand over his boyfriend’s back.
“I’ll get you your coffee, you just need to get up.” he promised. They joined a bleary eyed Francis and a scowling Arthur downstairs, in the living room. Matthew went into the kitchen with his brother to make sure Alfred made enough coffee for everyone, while Gilbert took a seat next to the Christmas tree, admiring the winking lights and the little angel at the top. He could see his gift to Matthew perched on top of another box, and he gently pushed it to the back of the stack of presents. Arthur shot him an odd look.
Once everyone had their caffeine fix, Alfred pulled his brother down to sit with him by the tree, bouncing up and down with excitement.
“Okay!” he announced. “Who should go first? I’m the hero, so I think that we should decide by Rock, Paper, Scissors...”
“Just go, you big lout.” Arthur said with grudging fondness. “We’ll go ‘round the circle, off you go.”
Alfred’s grin widened to almost inhuman lengths and he seized his nearest present and tore in with all the gusto of a five year old.
In the end, it was a pretty good Christmas. Alfred received a good amount of gift certificates for video games, a knitted sweater from Arthur, and a book about Canadian/American relations from Matthew (“why do you use Christmas as your passive-aggressive outlet?” Alfred whined to his brother). Francis received a set of colognes (which Arthur insisted was only “to hide the frog smell”), Quebecois Slang for Dummies (another passive aggressive gift - Gilbert was so proud), and gift certificates to McDonalds. Arthur snarled and growled half-heartedly over Alfred’s gift of a gorgeous teapot, and there was a brief scuffle as the Englishman tried to strangle Francis with the pantyhose he’d given him. Gilbert, who wasn’t expecting gifts from such a dysfunctional family, still thought it was hilarious of Francis to give him ribbed condoms until Matthew elbowed him so hard he thought he might have felt his rib break. Matthew, flushed with pleasure over his haul of books, movies, and Alfred’s ridiculous video game gift, prodded Gilbert gently while Alfred was going through Francis’s cologne collection and “advising” him on the best ones. Matthew slid a little paper bag into Gilbert’s hands.
“I - I hope you like it.” Matthew told him as Gilbert opened it. “I bought it in Berlin and got it engraved there, too.”
Inside the paper bag was a dog tag, on a chain. Engraved on one side of the tag was the Prussian eagle - on the other, the coat of arms of Canada. Gilbert stared at it for a moment, fighting the urge to laugh. This was the most bizarre Christmas ever.
Matthew noticed his hesitation and his ears grew pink. “If you don’t like it I totally understand...”
“Mattie, shut up, hold on.” Gilbert pressed his hand against his boyfriend’s lips and reached under the tree to bring up his present. “Just open this, you’ll see what I mean.”
In the jewelry box was a dog tag, a little bigger than the one Matthew had given him, without a chain so it could be slipped on the existing dog tags Matthew wore from the Great War. On one side was the Prussian flag, on the other was the Canadian one.
Gilbert looked embarrassed. “I probably should have gotten you a book or something so we didn’t get the same gifts.” he admitted gruffly, adding, “But I’m not taking it back.”
Matthew, a silly grin stretching his features, leaned in to kiss Gilbert sweetly.
“Thank you.” he said. “It’s beautiful. And now we match!” he reached behind him to undo the chain that held his other dog tags, and set to work stringing the newest one on. Gilbert cleared his throat and brought from his pocket a key on a ring.
“This is the spare key to the back door,” he explained at Matthew’s quizzical look. “The one that leads to the basement. Since you’re always complaining about me using your spare key...”
Matthew’s face was adorable to look at. “You’re giving me a key to your house?” he asked, holding the key as if it was some sacred object. This was starting to get embarrassing really fast.
“It’s not a big deal.” Gilbert said quickly. “But if you’re not super quiet about it West’s dogs will come after you and - ”
Matthew was hugging him, arms wound around the ex-nation’s neck, smiling brightly into his hair.
“This is the best Christmas present ever.” he assured him. “Thank you, Gilbert.”
“Well, shit.” was all Gilbert could say, and glared at Francis when the Frenchman helpfully nudged Gilbert’s arms into place, around Matthew.
“I think I’ll get started on making brunch.” Arthur announced awkwardly, to which both Alfred and Francis protested violently and followed the Englishman into the kitchen, intent on tearing the spatula away from him the moment he tried anything.
Gilbert withdrew a bit from Matthew. “Shouldn’t we stop him from making food?” he asked. Matthew smiled at him.
“You obviously haven’t been witness to Arthur’s awkward attempts to leave the room,” he laughed. “Or do you just not want your thank you kiss?”
“Oh, no.” Gilbert drew the kid in closer. “Never mind. I’d like that, please.”
“Well, it is Christmas after all.” Matthew shrugged, closing the distance between them and kissing Gilbert, soft and sweet, pressing against him.
“I love you, Gilbert.” the Canadian said when they parted, and for a moment Gilbert hesitated.
What the fuck. Like the kid said, it was Christmas.
“I love you too, Mattie.” he replied, and the loving relief on the younger nation’s face was reward enough.
The Krampus could take that and suck it.
--
Somewhere in Berlin, a small Italian was squealing in delight.
--
END
--
Note: The Krampus is supposed to be an assistant of St. Nicholas - on Nikolaustag, St. Nicholas rewards the good children, and the Krampus frightens the bad children. He carries rusty chains and generally looks like shit warmed over. I doubt he'd be around for Christmas Eve, but I figure since that's when Santa comes in Canada he'd make a special stopover to see his favourite ex-nation.
Author's Note: In retrospect I wish I could’ve made this longer D: But apparently I just suck like that! I hope you all enjoyed, and sorry again for the wait! Happy New Year!
Author: grosse_averse
Rating: PG-13 for some suggestiveness?
Characters: Germany, North Italy, America, France, and England are all eventually in this as well!
Notes: For the Secret Santa exchange over at prussiaxcanada. The prompt was Christmas together. How do Prussia and Canada celebrate Christmas? FUCK so I’m really late with this last part. Sorry for the wait, but please enjoy the last part!
Part One
Part Two
December 21
Gilbert was nervous.
Okay, that was a lie. There was no way someone as awesome as he was could be nervous. But here he was in Canada, waking up in the arms of a very sleepy, snuggly blond, and he had no ideas for a present.
None.
And there were four days until Christmas. Gilbert sat up, taking Matthew with him. The boy was practically wrapped around his waist and, jolted from sleep, murmured something unintelligible while shifting so he was lying across Gilbert’s lap. His shirt was rucked up a bit, and Gilbert examined with interest the smooth pale slice of skin that was revealed to him as Matthew attempted to get comfortable.
“Where’re you goin’?” Matthew asked, putting one warm hand on Gilbert’s knee. “‘S early.”
“Liebling, you’re like a sack of potatoes.” Gilbert complained, trying to shift the boy off his knees. “And you’re makin’ parts of me rise early, so c’mon, up you go...”
Matthew allowed himself to be pushed and pulled until he was lying flat on the bed again, wrapped in sheets. Gilbert allowed himself a quick linger, before getting out of bed.
“Stay here.” he ordered sternly, though he didn’t know why he bothered because Matthew was nearly asleep anyways. “I gotta go...uh...do something.”
“Jeez, that’s not....suspicious at all...” Matthew yawned, already rolling over again so he could bask in the warmth of the morning sun. Gilbert feigned offense.
“Oh, please, I’m a master of subtlety.” he snorted, and ignored the muffled sound of Matthew laughing into his pillow.
Downstairs, Gilbert flipped desperately through Matthew’s ancient Rolodex, which looked like it was abandoned sometime in the nineties, for Alfred’s number. There were several listed, and Gilbert scowled at them for a few seconds before he decided to fuck it all and steal Matthew’s cellphone.
Kumajirou growled low in his throat when Gilbert returned to the bedroom and started rifling through Matthew’s jacket, tossed carelessly over the dresser from their rather impromptu entrance last night. Gilbert turned to scratch the bear briefly behind his ears, waited for the growl to turn into a pleased rumble, and slipped Matthew’s cell into his pocket.
“Man, for someone who forgets his goddamn name, you’re really fucking protective of him.” he muttered sourly at the bear, who stretched out a paw cajolingly to Gilbert in an attempt to get the ex-nation to rub his belly.
Alfred sounded as asleep as his brother, yawning loudly and abruptly into the phone.
“Fuck, Mattie, I didn’t forget!” he snapped before Gilbert could get a word in. “I’m comin’ on the next flight but it’s not for a little while...”
“Shut up, Yank, it’s me.” Gilbert interrupted, and Alfred made a noise of surprise.
“Gilbert?” he demanded. “Why do you have Matt’s phone?”
“He’s asleep.” was Gilbert’s answer. “Listen, I need your help.”
Now Alfred was awake.
“Well,” he said knowingly, “As a hero I cannot refuse any plea for help, no matter what time it is!”
“It’s not a plea!” Gilbert snapped, irritated. “It’s just that I sort of don’t have a present for Matt yet and I don’t know what he’d like so I was wondering, if Matt was goin’ to get a present, what would he like?”
There was a stunned silence.
“You’re asking me?” Alfred demanded. “Shit, I dunno...uh...maple syrup?”
Gilbert rolled his eyes. “What did you get him?” he asked.
“Gears of War 2.” came the proud reply. Gilbert laughed.
“Does Matt even play video games?” he snorted. “He doesn’t have an Xbox 360.”
“Whoa, really?” Alfred sounded absolutely baffled as to why his younger brother did not have an Xbox 360. “I should go out and get him one, then.”
“Listen!” Gilbert felt like they were getting off topic. “You’re his fucking brother, you’re telling me you have no idea?!”
“Hmm.” Alfred sighed noisily into the receiver, filling Gilbert’s ear with crackles. The ex-nation scowled. “Well, if I was Artie - and I’m not, because that’d be horrible - I’d say something like, “as long as it comes from the heart he’ll really like it”. Or something. Hey, was that a good impression, or what?”
“You’re useless.” Gilbert told him flatly, and hung up in the middle of Alfred’s shocked protests. Sighing, he stalked angrily around Matthew’s house, debating. Maybe he should go through the Canadian’s things to get some ideas? He was interrupted in his thoughts when Matthew came padding downstairs, wearing one of Gilbert’s shirts. To be fair, the Prussian just couldn’t concentrate when Matthew was wearing his clothes. He was just too adorable.
“I should just give you my shirt if you keep wearing it,” Gilbert muttered to keep up the pretense, wrapping arms around Matthew’s waist. Matthew let him, eyes still bleary with sleep.
“What are you doing down here?” he asked, ignoring his statement. “Why d’you have my cell phone?”
“Oh!” Gilbert exclaimed, louder than necessary, in Matthew’s ear. “Wow, is this your phone, no way, I thought it felt less awesome than usual! Here ya go.”
Matthew shook his head. “I’m not even going to bother asking.” he declared. “Alfred’s going to be here around two, and Arthur and Francis will be here on the twenty third. I need to go out for errands this afternoon, are you coming with me?”
“Uh, I’ll stay here.” Gilbert said quickly. “To...shower. Yeah. I need to shower.”
“Oh...kay.” Matthew gave him an odd look. “Did you break something? I won’t be mad.”
Gilbert laughed. “Oh Mattie! Don’t be ridiculous! When have I ever broken anything at your house?”
Matthew didn’t dignify that with a response.
“I’m going to go get changed.” he said instead. “Don’t get into trouble.”
Gilbert pouted.
--
When Alfred arrived at his brother’s house, using the spare key under the mat, he found Gilbert in the office, furiously clicking through pages of eBay items. Alfred whistled under his breath, shifting his suitcase in his hands.
“You are screwed.” he said simply. Gilbert jumped.
“Fuck how’d you get in?” he asked. Alfred held up the spare key. Gilbert frowned.
“I thought I was the only one who knew about that.”
“Nope.” Alfred replied. “Family secret. Well. Not anymore obviously. So what’re you gonna do?”
Gilbert closed the window with an angry mouse click. “Fuck, I dunno.”
“Maple syrup.” Alfred reminded him helpfully. Gilbert glared at him.
“Wow, that’s new.” he snorted. “I bet everyone loves your presents.”
Alfred missed the sarcasm. “Yeah, they do. How could they not?”
Gilbert stood up and left Alfred standing in the office.
“I gotta go out.” he declared, pulling on his jacket. “Tell...uh, tell Mattie I’ll be back soon.”
“Uh, sure?” Alfred asked, scratching his head. “You’re a weirdo, Gil.”
“Shut up, Yank.” Gilbert shot back, and was out the door before Alfred could react.
Outside, Gilbert was on the phone to Ludwig as he strode down the sidewalk. The German sounded irritated when he answered.
“What did you get Feliciano for Christmas?” the ex-nation demanded. There was a pause.
“Why...”
“Just answer, West, I’m desperate here!” as he walked, Gilbert kept snatching looks at shop windows, wondering wildly if anything would be suitable for Matthew.
“I got him some new cooking ware, for his pasta.” Ludwig answered finally, and Gilbert huffed. Well, that was no good. No ideas there.
“In the set there is a very large pot,” Ludwig continued, ignoring his brother’s sigh. “And I put the ring in there.”
“The what?!” Gilbert stopped dead - a woman almost ran into him. “The what, West, what, holy shit, I didn’t know you had the balls to do that!”
“Well, thank you.” Ludwig muttered. Gilbert talked over him.
“Congratulations, Bruder!” the ex-nation crowed. “Shit, lookit you! I guess I raised you to be a man after all! Wow, that’s crazy! Shit!”
“Stop saying shit.” Ludwig told him sternly. “Why do you want to know what I got Feliciano?”
Gilbert wasn’t listening. “Well fuck me, I guess it’s a good thing I’m staying with Matt, huh? You two’ll be going at it like rabbits once Feli finds that ring!” this was followed by laughter Ludwig recognized as Gilbert’s fake I’m totally not feeling alone! laugh.
“Bruder,” Ludwig said patiently, “I’m sure Canada will like whatever you get him.”
“Ha! ha! I know!” Gilbert practically hollered. “I mean, how could he not? It’s awesome, you should see it West, it’s positively awesome! I have to go!”
“Of course. Merry Christmas, East.” Ludwig said. Gilbert closed his phone with a snap, wondering for a moment if he would be able to hear Feliciano’s excitement from here, when the little Italian discovered just what was in his new cooking ware.
This time he phoned Antonio, regardless as to the time zones - when the Spaniard answered, Gilbert could hear swearing the background, noises that increased in volume as Antonio chirped a cheerful hello.
“Antonio, what’d you get Lovino for Christmas?” Gilbert said by way of a greeting.
“Mm?” Antonio hesitated for a moment. “Ah, I can’t tell you!”
“Why not?” Gilbert demanded. “I won’t tell your bad mannered tomato boy, promise.”
“No no, it’s not that.” Antonio assured. “I can’t tell you what I got Lovino for Christmas because he’s sitting on me right now.”
“YOU BASTARD!” came Lovino’s voice over the line, and then the Spaniard’s smooth lilting Spanish as he tried to soothe him. “DON’T TELL YOUR FRIENDS SHIT LIKE THAT! I’M LEAVING, YOU CAN SPEND CHRISTMAS ON YOUR OWN.”
“I have to go~!” Antonio told him, and hung up.
“Fuck.” Gilbert said. “Now who else am I going to call?”
“What the fuck. I’m going to come over there and shoot you.” Well, not Switzerland.
“Lili, put the phone down. If he calls you again tell him your brother is going to come after him.” Not Liechtenstein either.
“I was in the middle of a concerto.” Not that sissy Austria.
Elizaveta made some sort of noise when she answered, not even a greeting at all, but Gilbert didn’t wait for her to form words.
“I need your help.” he told her. “I need to think of a present for Matthew.”
Silence. “...what kind of present?” Elizaveta reluctantly asked. Gilbert did an inward fist pump.
“Just...I dunno. Something that will make him happy! He’s practically a girl anyways, so I figured you, of all people - ”
“I’m hanging up the phone.”
“Liz, wait!” Gilbert exclaimed, forcing his tone into the softer one he usually used to get favors. “I meant that I’m out of ideas and I know you’re really good at getting gifts for people.”
Flattery. Good job Gilbert - if there was one thing Elizaveta liked, that was compliments. Already he could feel her warming up to him over the phone.
“Are you just telling me this so I won’t hang up on you?” Elizaveta asked. Gilbert winced.
“Goddammit Liz.” he seethed. Elizaveta laughed.
“Well, I suppose I shouldn’t hang up and leave poor Canada to your horrible gift giving ideas.”
Gilbert listened, intently, as the woman began listing off several ideas. Most of them were duds, but then the Hungarian nation said something that sent off a spark in Gilbert’s mind.
“Whoa, Liz, that’s it, it’s perfect!” he exclaimed. “Shit, for a girl you’re pretty good!”
“Wow.” was all Elizaveta could mutter.
“Merry Christmas!” Gilbert told her, already taking off down the street. “Give your husband a big wet kiss for me, huh, Liz?”
“Merry Christmas, you bozo!” Elizaveta told him, in that tone that signaled she was trying to keep her reluctant laughter in. Gilbert snapped his phone closed and dodged several passer bys.
He hoped the stores weren’t closed.
December 24th
"We put the tinsel on after the decorations, Alfred!"
"Well, why? Just put everything on! The bigger the better, right?"
"You cannot just throw things onto a Christmas tree, l'Amerique. You must have a designer's eye - !"
"No one cares, frog!"
Matthew sighed fondly. Gilbert looked disgruntled.
"They're always like this?" he didn't know why he bothered making that a question. Matthew laughed.
"Yeah. They're usually meaner than this, but it's Christmas after all." Matthew nudged his boyfriend and slipped a mug of hot chocolate into his hands. "You should have seen the time I invited England's brothers over. We all tried to play a board game and Arthur ended up strangling Ireland against the mantle."
"What was that?" Arthur asked, arms stretched over his head in an attempt to place an ornament on the top branches of the Christmas tree.
"Nothing!" Matthew replied as Francis cruelly prodded Arthur in the side, causing the Englishman to seize up in surprise and topple backwards. The resulting crash caused the angel at the top to waver precariously.
Gilbert watched Matthew untangle strings of beads for a moment, watching the way the blond cocked his head in concentration, how his eyes caught the light, how patiently he threaded his fingers through the beads.
"Is something wrong?" Matthew asked, concerned, when he looked up and met Gilbert's eyes. Gilbert looked away with a grunt, and watched Alfred shower tinsel all over the tree. Slowly his hand slid over to thread through Matthew's. The younger nation blinked behind his glasses, before squeezing Gilbert's hand.
"You've been acting weird lately." Matthew told him. "Are you sure nothing's wrong?"
"It's nothing." Gilbert told him, waving away his concern. "Nothing the awesome me couldn't handle!"
Matthew's smile was soft but disbelieving. "Right." he said. "Okay. If you're sure."
I'm sure, Gilbert thought as Matthew unknotted the length of beads so they pooled in loose loops in his laps. You make me feel sure of everything
--
“Gilbert Beilschmidt.” the voice in Gilbert’s ear sounded amused. “I almost missed you this year.”
Roused from sleep, brushing some of Matthew’s hair from his face, Gilbert looked up into the face of a squat, ugly demon. Horns protruded like spikes from its head, and its twisted face was lit up with malice.
In anyone else this creature would provoke horror. In Gilbert’s case, he and it were practically old friends.
Practically being the key word here, because it was annoying as fuck.
“Hey, yeah.” he yawned, careful not to jostle Matthew as he sat up to face the creature fully - it was sitting at the foot of the bed, clawed feet drawn up under it, head cocked, pointed ears twitching. “What a shame that would have been, huh?”
The creature looked amused. “And look what this Christmas brought you!” it said, shifting. The chain hanging from its shoulders made an ominous sound. “A lovely little blond in your bed. How long will this one last?”
Gilbert put his hand protectively on Matthew’s shoulder. “Don’t you have children to be beating, or something?” he asked. “Go away.”
The creature grinned, sharp teeth in a rotting mouth. “Ah, but I missed seeing you!” it said. “Your blond was good this year, but you were very, very bad. As usual. What would be a fitting punishment for a hell child like you?”
“I don’t think I could stand it if you left.” Gilbert said dryly. “So maybe you could, uh, you know, get the fuck out of my bedroom.”
The creature looked around. “This isn’t your bedroom.” it pointed out. “Though you have made yourself comfortable, I see!”
“Fuck off, Krampus.” Gilbert said icily, as the creature moved forward to put one clawed hand on Matthew’s ankle. “I swear to God, touch him again and you’re dead.”
The Krampus looked amused. “And what makes you think you are worthy of such a nice thing, hm?” it asked. “Hundreds of years and you have not changed at all, Gilbert Beilschmidt. Why should you deserve happiness?”
“I’m trying.” Gilbert said in a tight, angry voice, forcing his hand to relax its death grip on his sleeping boyfriend. “I’m trying, for him. Get it, asshole?”
The Krampus gave Matthew’s ankle a little tug. The Canadian murmured something in his sleep as Gilbert sprang from the bed, scarlet eyes narrowed. The Krampus hopped away as Gilbert’s hands curled into fists, laughing in a curiously wheezing sort of way.
“I don’t like seeing good things happen to bad people, Gilbert Beilschmidt!” it cackled. “Next December you had better hope you do not see me!”
Gilbert scowled. “I am way too old to be believing in fairy tales, thanks.” he sniffed. “Anyways, I think Canada’s out of your jurisdiction, so if you don’t mind...?”
Reluctantly the Krampus, with another curious look at Matthew, slunk to the doorway.
“Merry Christmas, Gilbert Beilschmidt.” it told the ex-nation. “Maybe next year will bring a surprise for me, hm?”
After the Krampus had left, Gilbert spent a few minutes watching over his sleeping boyfriend, enjoying the way Matthew wriggled in his sleep when Gilbert prodded him with his toes. Gilbert thought of his present, of the little jewelry box wrapped in paper that lay under Matthew’s Christmas tree, and grimaced.
What was he doing? He had half a mind to go downstairs and take it back, hide it in his luggage and feed Matthew some shit story about not getting him a present. It was better than the potential humiliation he faced, having Matthew open that in front of his family, pulling it out, maybe staring at it before rejecting it...
With an agitated snort, Gilbert flopped down next to Matthew and flung an arm carefully over his shoulders. Matthew rolled over and easily fit into the space Gilbert had made, top of his head pressed into the crook of Gilbert’s neck.
“Fuck, liebling, if I didn’t know better I’d say I was going crazy.” he muttered, at which point Matthew, fed up with the constant noise while he was trying to sleep, growled under his breath, “Go to bed. You don’t know how early we will have to get up tomorrow, unless Arthur has found a way to lock Alfred in his room this year.”
Gilbert, who had been around Matthew long enough to know that tone meant business, complied.
December 25th
Nope, Matthew thought to himself sourly as he was awoken by his elder brother jumping, cannonball-style, into his bed, not this year. Gilbert shouted something angrily in German as Alfred bounced up and down on the bed.
“C’mon, c’mon, what are you still sleeping for, it’s Christmas, get up, come on!” Alfred was urging, slapping Matthew enthusiastically on the thigh. Matthew moved, gripping Gilbert around the waist as the ex-nation made a sleepy, irritated swing at Alfred’s enthusiastic face.
“It happens every year,” he moaned at his boyfriend. “Just let it happen.”
“Don’t go back to bed!” Alfred warned them as he crouched at the foot of the bed, much like the Krampus before him, much less menacing but somehow just as annoying. “If you do I’m coming up here with a bucket of cold water!”
“He’ll do it too.” Matthew muttered into Gilbert’s midsection. “C’mon, get up, I don’t want to dry these sheets if he finds you sleeping.”
“Coffee.” Gilbert grunted, and Matthew ran a soothing hand over his boyfriend’s back.
“I’ll get you your coffee, you just need to get up.” he promised. They joined a bleary eyed Francis and a scowling Arthur downstairs, in the living room. Matthew went into the kitchen with his brother to make sure Alfred made enough coffee for everyone, while Gilbert took a seat next to the Christmas tree, admiring the winking lights and the little angel at the top. He could see his gift to Matthew perched on top of another box, and he gently pushed it to the back of the stack of presents. Arthur shot him an odd look.
Once everyone had their caffeine fix, Alfred pulled his brother down to sit with him by the tree, bouncing up and down with excitement.
“Okay!” he announced. “Who should go first? I’m the hero, so I think that we should decide by Rock, Paper, Scissors...”
“Just go, you big lout.” Arthur said with grudging fondness. “We’ll go ‘round the circle, off you go.”
Alfred’s grin widened to almost inhuman lengths and he seized his nearest present and tore in with all the gusto of a five year old.
In the end, it was a pretty good Christmas. Alfred received a good amount of gift certificates for video games, a knitted sweater from Arthur, and a book about Canadian/American relations from Matthew (“why do you use Christmas as your passive-aggressive outlet?” Alfred whined to his brother). Francis received a set of colognes (which Arthur insisted was only “to hide the frog smell”), Quebecois Slang for Dummies (another passive aggressive gift - Gilbert was so proud), and gift certificates to McDonalds. Arthur snarled and growled half-heartedly over Alfred’s gift of a gorgeous teapot, and there was a brief scuffle as the Englishman tried to strangle Francis with the pantyhose he’d given him. Gilbert, who wasn’t expecting gifts from such a dysfunctional family, still thought it was hilarious of Francis to give him ribbed condoms until Matthew elbowed him so hard he thought he might have felt his rib break. Matthew, flushed with pleasure over his haul of books, movies, and Alfred’s ridiculous video game gift, prodded Gilbert gently while Alfred was going through Francis’s cologne collection and “advising” him on the best ones. Matthew slid a little paper bag into Gilbert’s hands.
“I - I hope you like it.” Matthew told him as Gilbert opened it. “I bought it in Berlin and got it engraved there, too.”
Inside the paper bag was a dog tag, on a chain. Engraved on one side of the tag was the Prussian eagle - on the other, the coat of arms of Canada. Gilbert stared at it for a moment, fighting the urge to laugh. This was the most bizarre Christmas ever.
Matthew noticed his hesitation and his ears grew pink. “If you don’t like it I totally understand...”
“Mattie, shut up, hold on.” Gilbert pressed his hand against his boyfriend’s lips and reached under the tree to bring up his present. “Just open this, you’ll see what I mean.”
In the jewelry box was a dog tag, a little bigger than the one Matthew had given him, without a chain so it could be slipped on the existing dog tags Matthew wore from the Great War. On one side was the Prussian flag, on the other was the Canadian one.
Gilbert looked embarrassed. “I probably should have gotten you a book or something so we didn’t get the same gifts.” he admitted gruffly, adding, “But I’m not taking it back.”
Matthew, a silly grin stretching his features, leaned in to kiss Gilbert sweetly.
“Thank you.” he said. “It’s beautiful. And now we match!” he reached behind him to undo the chain that held his other dog tags, and set to work stringing the newest one on. Gilbert cleared his throat and brought from his pocket a key on a ring.
“This is the spare key to the back door,” he explained at Matthew’s quizzical look. “The one that leads to the basement. Since you’re always complaining about me using your spare key...”
Matthew’s face was adorable to look at. “You’re giving me a key to your house?” he asked, holding the key as if it was some sacred object. This was starting to get embarrassing really fast.
“It’s not a big deal.” Gilbert said quickly. “But if you’re not super quiet about it West’s dogs will come after you and - ”
Matthew was hugging him, arms wound around the ex-nation’s neck, smiling brightly into his hair.
“This is the best Christmas present ever.” he assured him. “Thank you, Gilbert.”
“Well, shit.” was all Gilbert could say, and glared at Francis when the Frenchman helpfully nudged Gilbert’s arms into place, around Matthew.
“I think I’ll get started on making brunch.” Arthur announced awkwardly, to which both Alfred and Francis protested violently and followed the Englishman into the kitchen, intent on tearing the spatula away from him the moment he tried anything.
Gilbert withdrew a bit from Matthew. “Shouldn’t we stop him from making food?” he asked. Matthew smiled at him.
“You obviously haven’t been witness to Arthur’s awkward attempts to leave the room,” he laughed. “Or do you just not want your thank you kiss?”
“Oh, no.” Gilbert drew the kid in closer. “Never mind. I’d like that, please.”
“Well, it is Christmas after all.” Matthew shrugged, closing the distance between them and kissing Gilbert, soft and sweet, pressing against him.
“I love you, Gilbert.” the Canadian said when they parted, and for a moment Gilbert hesitated.
What the fuck. Like the kid said, it was Christmas.
“I love you too, Mattie.” he replied, and the loving relief on the younger nation’s face was reward enough.
The Krampus could take that and suck it.
--
Somewhere in Berlin, a small Italian was squealing in delight.
--
END
--
Note: The Krampus is supposed to be an assistant of St. Nicholas - on Nikolaustag, St. Nicholas rewards the good children, and the Krampus frightens the bad children. He carries rusty chains and generally looks like shit warmed over. I doubt he'd be around for Christmas Eve, but I figure since that's when Santa comes in Canada he'd make a special stopover to see his favourite ex-nation.
Author's Note: In retrospect I wish I could’ve made this longer D: But apparently I just suck like that! I hope you all enjoyed, and sorry again for the wait! Happy New Year!