Fic: Mud Splattered Glass
Title: Mud Splattered Glass
Author/Artist: Jamaica-tan
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Prussia/Austria
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Language, descriptions of violence, sex
Summary: 1989, The Wall has fallen and Prussia is back. But something seems wrong, and Austria invites him to stay at his house for a while.
Disclaimer: Not mine, Axis Powers Hetalia and the characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya.
Note: Ties in after the events of ‘A Crown of Snow’, but will be spoiler-free in regards to the events in that story.
I have Twilight Rose2 to thank for this story! I was reading her story ‘Where in the World is Alfred Jones?’ (which is totally awesome btw, go check it out after you read this!) and there was a sweet scene where Austria comforted Prussia who was traumatised by Russia, and from there I decided to try a Prustria hurt/comfort fic. A couple of months later I finally came up with an idea I liked, but it took me even long to write because it was my first time writing this couple and tough subject, but I’m finally happy with it now ^^.
Thanks go to Twilight Rose2, koholint, and my betas I was really unsure if I had done well in this story, so I had several people take a look for me XD
Special thanks go to koholint for correcting my fail!German from Google Translate. GT, why you know no slang?? TT.TT
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Every day Austria wondered if he was doing the right thing.
Surely he was not the right one to help. His brother was the only one who could take care of him; even though he was young Germany was more level-headed than Prussia, with the patience to match. Austria could admit to himself that he had no patience for Prussia antics on a normal day.
And yet here they were.
After the war, Russia never spoke about Prussia, the few times they saw him. If anyone asked after any other nation he would say they were doing well, but when it came to the ex-nation he would only smile and say nothing.
As the decades passed by only the thought that Hungary was safe comforted him, as he tried to ignore his growing fear that Prussia was dead. The empire was gone, and his homeland divided up and mostly in Russia’s hands, so what was to say that he had not faded and died shortly after the wall went up?
After the meetings, Austria took to sitting with Germany and North Italy. He knew that Germany wanted to lash out at the Russian for never caving to his demands to reveal anything about his brother, but he was under the former Allies’ care for now and there was far too much to risk.
Eventually, it began to feel as if Prussia had never existed. There was so much anger and bitterness after the war, maybe others had begun to blame Prussia solely for so much trouble, despite that he as much as Germany had been blinded by the shining dreams of their leader, and followed their orders to the letter. Truth be told, after the war there was hardly a nation left that had entirely clean hands.
Prussia followed his orders, just like him, and just like everyone else.
So after every meeting, Austria sat with Germany and Italy. As the Italian offered quiet comfort to Germany, the elder was glad for there was nothing else he could say or do except sit with his little brother through the decades as the questions about Prussia grew less and less, until they stopped completely.
In May of 1989, Hungary was freed, and when the barbed wire was being torn down they rushed to each other and embraced so tightly Austria still felt bruised the next day.
She had lost weight but she said that she was fine, cheeks flushed and eyes shining with her new freedom as they walked to his home. There was a buzz in the air that the others would soon be free within a few years, and that East Germany would be reunited with the West before the end of the year.
Apparently she gave as good as she got without angering the Russian, and Russia seemed to have a strange kind of respect for her because of that, and between bites of her favourite foods she said things had been rough for everyone for a long time after the war, but by the end of the 50s it was much better. When she casually mentioned Prussia saying that he was looking forward to German beer again he froze, almost dropping the dessert he was bringing her “he’s alive?”
She gave him a questioning look, “yes, didn’t you know?”
After he sat and explained what happened, she was quiet for a moment before speaking.
“He’s definitely alive, but let’s just say Russia kept a grudge over him. He’s very different now but there’s not a lot we could do to help him.”
In November Germany asked Austria to come with him when the wall’s borders were to open. When parts of the wall began to fall, they saw all the people from different sides pushing to greet each other; the two sides of Berlin reunited for so long. But Prussia was not there. They waited, through the vibrant crowds and tears and celebrations, and eventually stepping through the wall into the East to try to find him.
Three days later they found him wondering through the city in ill-fitting soviet clothes, and when Germany went to embrace him it became more obvious how unwell he was. Prussia had always been lean and pale but now he was almost bony and paper white, even his normally brilliant cardinal red eyes were dull. Germany seemed so whole and healthy with his peachy skin, favourite green coat, and the tears he held back shining in his blue eyes as he embraced his sickly, pale brother.
Austria and Prussia’s eyes met over Germany’s shoulder, but they said nothing to each other. The Austrian did not know how to feel, but when Germany finally let go of his brother they embraced just as tightly.
A few months later, Italy visited Austria.
“Where is Hungary? Are you two together again?”
“No,” Italy’s face fell slightly, and Austria had to take a sip of his tea to clear his head before he continued, “Truthfully too much has happened for things to go back the way they were before 1914, the world has moved on too much and so have we, we’ll always love each other in our own way, but...she’s gone back to Budapest to be with her people.”
Italy tilted his head to the side, “I understand that, it’s hard to be away for so long...I brought some homemade ice cream, you want some?”
“Thank you,” feeling some of the old guilt at the back of his memory, Austria got up to serve it to his guest.
Between quick bites of the delicious Gelato, Italy told him how Prussia never went outside of Germany’s house, and even when he came to visit the ex-nation was always in his room, so he had not seen him at all.
After Italy left Austria found himself passing the hall telephone more than usual, and even when he sat at his piano he could not but think of Germany’s house. Before he knew what he was doing, he was in front of the phone, picking up the receiver and dialling the familiar number.
Perhaps, he told Germany, it would nice for Prussia to have a change of scenery for a while? Everyone was so busy with the crumbling USSR, and Germany especially with reuniting his country, maybe he could help and Prussia could stay with him for a while?
Germany refused immediately; it would be as if he was palming him off as an inconvenience, a betrayal. It was unthinkable.
Halfway through the conversation Germany paused, then his voice became faint and muffled as if he had his hand over the speaker piece. After a few moments of muffled sounds, Germany uncovered the speaker and agreed that Prussia could stay, only on the condition that Prussia would only leave when he wanted to leave.
Austria was not exactly sure what that meant, but he agreed. When Prussia visited him before in the old days he came and went as he pleased and he had given up trying to stop him from just walking in years ago.
And so, here they were.
When Prussia arrived he walked straight past Austria as soon as he opened the door without saying anything or even making eye contact, instead he went straight to the room he used to occasionally stay in, in the old days.
He looked after him wondering why he did not say anything, and then Germany walked in.
“He’s not been himself,” a door slammed upstairs. Germany didn’t flinch at the sound, instead giving a small tired sigh.
“I knew that he would be different as soon as I saw him, but he’s not been himself at all.”
“How so?” Austria gently closed the front door behind him, and they made their way to the kitchen, where Germany laid the heavy crate he was carrying onto the counter.
“His favourite beer, it’s all he’ll drink now,” The blond explained “he doesn’t want to me to stay so I’m only going to go upstairs to say goodbye.”
“Why does he want you to go so soon?”
“I don’t know, maybe he’ll think we’ll talk about him. To be honest Austria I would not have changed my mind, but he demanded it, said he wanted to see you and nothing I could say could change his mind.”
“Why don’t you want him to stay here?”
“It’s not as if I don’t want him to stay, you know I trust you, but-” Germany ran a hand through his hair in frustration, “He’s different. Russia did something to him and I have no idea what.”
Austria waited downstairs while Germany said goodbye, and when he came down they walked to the front door
“I’ll call every day, and please be patient with him.” Germany did not look like he wanted to leave, and Austria could only give a smile to his brother, meant to reassure.
“I will.”
Germany did not smile back.
“Viel Glück/ Good luck,” And he was gone.
Austria put the beer away in the fridge, then made a cup of tea and sliced some cake. Prussia always complained but he knew he liked his country’s cakes, and hot tea would be warming after the long journey.
He had not had a full household of staff since the 30s, now he had a cook and several cleaners that lived in the town nearby. He’d given them the day off, so he carried the tray up to the room, and knocked on the door with his free hand.
“Prussia?” No answer.
He heard nothing, only the slightest movement inside, so he placed the tray on the table by the door, moving the table vase of Edelweiss so the tray would not fall. “Prussia?” he repeated “I made a snack for you, I’m leaving it by your door.”
He waited for a few more moments before going downstairs to practise.
Tonight was a variety of Handel compositions, and when he raised his hands from the piano keys it was dark outside, and the clock read past midnight.
When he passed the room to go to bed, the tea and cake sat untouched and cold. There was light under the door, and the smell of cigarette smoke. He still smoked? Austria himself had always hated the taste and smell of tobacco even when it was fashionable, but tolerated it from guests. Prussia rarely counted as a guest but he had given up on stopping him long ago.
As for the snack, Austria could only think that Prussia wasn’t hungry and had not bothered to tell him, and so he continued to his bed.
On the first full day Prussia did not come out of his room at all, nor did he come out on the second or third.
After that, during the day the only way Austria really knew Prussia had left his room was hearing him move about the house. He would not hear him while the cleaners were working, and if food was left out for him it would be found in the garbage or thrown out a window, plate and all. Sometimes, Austria would walk into the kitchen unannounced and see a small half eaten plate of rapidly cooling food and the other door out of the kitchen swinging shut. The only thing he seemed to be drinking a lot of was the beer Germany brought, in fact within a week Austria had to order more.
He saw him when Germany called every day as promised, and Prussia was talking to him on the hallway phone. Austria wanted to speak to him, but he did not want to bother him then, it seemed it was the closest to normal as he would be here. When he finished, he seemed to make a point of walking past Austria, deliberately shoving past him with a curse muttered under his breath. Austria would have wondered what he had done to offend him, but he honestly had no idea what was going on.
On the fifth night, Austria was lying in his bed and about to fall asleep when the door suddenly opened. Prussia walked in, and even with his glasses Austria wouldn’t be able to see his expression, the shadows in the room making his face unreadable as he shut the door behind him and walked to the side of the bed. Austria ran a hand through his hair and sat up slightly, watching the Prussian stand by the bed in the dark, almost unsure. When it seemed that Prussia might stand there all night, Austria found himself lifting the corner of the bed sheets in silent invitation, and after a moment, the other man got in. He wrapped the sheets around him and lay on the very edge of the bed, facing away from Austria. Austria lay down again, and with his slightly blurred vision he waited until Prussia’s shoulders began to rise and fall evenly, indicating he was asleep, until he let himself drift off.
In the morning Austria woke slowly, and when he rolled over he was startled to see Prussia still in bed next to him. Even when they were small, Prussia, then the Teutonic Order Knight, always woke before daybreak to train. When Austria woke with the dawn Prussia always took the chance to call him a ‘slugabed soft aristocrat’, even when the word aristocrat back then simply meant you cleaned your hands before eating.
Prussia was wide awake, and seemed to be staring at something just past Austria, apparently not noticing he had woken. Austria turned his head and saw only the lamp and radio on his bedside table. Austria suddenly wondered when he put a radio in his room, perhaps after the war, but he knew why. After centuries of sharing beds with friends and enemies, including that one glorious night when Switzerland was his, he could not get used to sleeping alone. Even without intimacy there was something so comforting about the feeling of another nation laying with him, so the soft tone of the radio permanently tuned to the Classical music station had to be a substitute.
Prussia suddenly got up and left the room before Austria could ask him why he had been staring, and since he heard him go downstairs Austria decided to ask after he had washed and dressed.
Twenty minutes later Austria came back from his shower, and immediately saw that the window near the bed was wide open, and the radio was gone.
He looked out the window and sighe. The radio was on the ground, smashed into several pieces.
Later, Austria huffed and lectured the ex-nation about not throwing things away unnecessarily until Prussia flipped him off and went out.
But Prussia returned to Austria’s bed that night, and every night after.
Afternoon. pastries and tea.
Austria had almost gotten used to the fact that Prussia kept himself in his own room while the cleaners were working, but he had been unable to ignore the fact that the other had not gained any weight at all, and any time he asked Prussia just ignored him or broke something expensive. Perhaps some normality would help.
Despite Prussia sleeping in the same bed as him every night, it wasn’t easy. On a day when the cleaners had the day off, it took him an hour to convince Prussia to sit with him, and another to sit with him during tea time. But it would be worthwhile, perhaps he could finally ask why Prussia had such an issue with food and eating in front of him.
They were in the lounge, and the Austrian was pouring two cups of tea from the warm pot, before placing a cup in front of Prussia who eyed it as if it would explode. Austria then picked up the small pair of tongs and asked Prussia if he would like anything. Prussia refused, and Austria frowned slightly and was about to protest before changing his mind; instead picking up a piece of Apfelstrudel and placing it on his own plate. He picked up his tea to take a sip when Prussia spoke suddenly,
“Does anyone still do this?”
“Still do what?” he sipped his tea.
“Take tea and eat those prissy sweets, didn’t you get that from England?” Prussia was still sat upright with his hands on his knees, he had not moved from that position since he sat down.
“Yes of course, hardly any of us have time now but I enjoy it while I can.”
“So if you’re so busy why are you always here?”
“I have work in my office, and I arranged for a courier to deliver my documents, why do you ask?”
“Why did you do that?”
“I-“ Austria paused and sipped his tea again to calm himself, “I wanted to spend some time with you; there’s nothing wrong with that.”
The ex-nation muttered something under his breath but Austria ignored him; if he didn’t like it he was free to leave any time he wanted.
Silence stretched between them, thin and uncomfortable. Austria busied himself with his afternoon tea while Prussia was still watched him eat and drink, almost as if he wanted to snatch the food away.
“Do you remember the Bruderkrieg?” The Prussian spoke so suddenly Austria nearly spilled his drink.
“What?” it took a moment for him to compose himself at the question. “Which war do you mean?”
“You know which one, the last one where we ended up kicking your sorry ass out of the confederation.”
Austria’s eyebrow twitched, but he took a bite of the strudel and dabbed his mouth with his napkin before replying “Why bring that up?”
“I’m just wondering how that felt, you and your inbred royals acted like you ruled Europe, but all it took was me, kleinen Bruder and the Italians to get rid of you in a few weeks, bet that stung.”
Prussia slowly leaned forward until his elbows were resting against his knees. From the small smirk on his face he seemed to be enjoying this, but Austria still couldn’t understand why he was bringing up that old subject to try to annoy him.
“If I remember right,” Austria said “I was in favour of a total union, you only wanted me excluded because you wanted to rule, don’t pretend it was for patriotism when you only wanted to grab power.”
“But I didn’t, I let Germany take over and unite, and you were kicked out - then you had to marry Hungary to keep a bit of power.”
“That’s why I regret nothing about it, Germany was unified either way and I was happy to marry Hungary.”
“Then why isn’t she here? That bitch talked about you nearly the whole time at Russia’s house.”
“Don’t speak about her in that way!”
“So why isn’t she here?”
“We’re divorced, and you know very well she’s with her people.”
“Divorce means nothing, why aren’t you two playing happy couples again?”
Austria had had enough by now and put down his plate and saucer.
“I don’t have to explain anything to you because it’s none of your business - and why do you want to know all of a sudden? Why such questions?”
“Just wondering if you were still bitter, and losing Hungary then the last war turned you into a weirdo.”
“And why would that happen?”
“I remember how angry you lost the war, and see, I was wondering if your pathetic defeat made all your people so sour and rotten that someone like that little rat of yours could go so far.”
Austria’s eye twitched, and he finally lost his last shred of patience.
“ ‘Go so far’? He may have been one of my people but it was you and Germany that accepted him with open arms. And 1866 was long before Adolf was born, you know that the world had moved on except for him and his followers! They simply chose to believe in a past that never existed - it had nothing to do with me. Someone like him and his people could come from anywhere.”
Prussia’s expression did not change, but the smirk now seemed slightly strained as if he was only keeping it up to annoy Austria, and damn him if it wasn’t working.
They stared at each other for a long time before Prussia spoke again,
“Why did you invite me here?”
Austria shot back “You seem to despise being here, so I only wonder why you accepted.”
“...”
“Prussia-“
Prussia grabbed the half eaten pastry from Austria’s plate and stormed out of the room.
Austria watched him go without a word of protest. He sighed and leaned back in his chair, taking off his glasses to rub his eyes. He had no idea what that was about.
After midnight, Prussia came into Austria’s bedroom again and got into bed.
Austria was still awake, the events from earlier keeping him from rest.
Eventually he asked, “What was that about? Earlier I mean.”
There was no answer, then Prussia sighed.
“I don’t know.”
Impulsively, Austria slid over to the other side of the bed and kissed Prussia’s cheek.
Prussia turned his head towards him, licked his own lips and then kissed him fully.
One afternoon Austria was attempting to play. Usually when he sat in front of his piano he had known what piece and movement to play from the moment he woke, but today his motivation was eluding him
Suddenly he felt he was being watched, he looked behind him and Prussia was standing by the window near the door. For a moment the two regarded each other, before Austria found himself saying “Would you like to sit with me?”
Prussia did not move “Why would I want to do that?”
“It would be more comfortable than just standing there. You could sit on the chaise or you could stay there, whatever you would like.”
Prussia remained still, so Austria turned back to his piano, picking up a folder of sheet music and flicking through the papers in the hope of inspiration striking.
“You still like that prissy music.”
Austria’s hands did not jump at the sudden voice, but he put the folder down to look at the Prussian. “It’s called classical music now, and yes I still enjoy it, despite your efforts.”
“I still say you can’t beat a good tavern song.”
“Those don’t exist anymore, except in army barracks and camps I suppose.”
“D’ya like any of the new stuff?”
“I like a lot of the newer classical compositions, but all seem to be missing something from the old days. I don’t like modern Americanized music at all.”
“Huh,” Prussia seemed to be thinking, and then, quietly, “I don’t mind it. Western music used to creep in through illegal radio waves, sometimes when Russia was out Ukraine used to tune the radio and dance to music in her room. Belarus might be crazy but she loves her sister too, so she’d never tell. Once or twice I saw Ukraine trying to teach her dance moves.”
“After a while, the others would join in. It was stupid, they’d take off their shoes and shuffle around dancing in their socks and muffle their dumb giggling, like it made any real difference.”
Austrian smiled slightly, somehow he was reminded of the old days, dancing lessons and memories of Hungary telling him about young ladies' ‘breakfast ballrooms’.
“Did you ever dance?”
Prussia snorted, “When did you ever see me dance?”
“When your kings took you along to parties and assemblies’, but I remember you always used to trip over your feet, even when the waltz came along you seemed to relish treading on people’s feet.”
“You were a shitty teacher.”
“You always danced well with Hungary, France and myself, as well as a few of the others. You just seemed to always dance badly with humans.”
“Heh, you caught me there. Thought if I danced badly enough the kings would stop making me dance so I could just go play cards.”
“Did it work?”
“Pretty much, with any new king I danced like a cripple in front of him and he’d soon stop wanting me to dance with those stupid society ladies.”
The Austrian considered this as he let his hands dance on the keys to make a tuneless melody, he had always suspected as much with Prussia. Some things never change.
Half-thinking, he said idly “I think I know why you never danced at Russia’s house, you were too embarrassed about tripping over your feet.”
“Or my body was so torn up I could only limp up the stairs and watch them from the doorway.”
Austria’s hand missed a key; was he serious? He looked at the Prussian, but he was looking outside. That creeping sense of wrong came again - Prussia was never the type to just look outside and enjoy scenery, he always had a point, always direct. Even in defeat he put up such a front that the winner would feel like they lost.
Austria cleared his throat after a moment, but it was nearly two minutes before his voice came back to him, the forced slight humour in his voice seemed so alien, “Perhaps both?”
Prussia’s red gaze looked at him from the corner of his eye, but after a moment he smiled slightly. “Maybe a little.”
Austria returned the smile and turned back to his beloved piano. Shortly he was surprised as he was suddenly he was shoved gently aside as Prussia sat beside him.
“You gonna play something or what?”
“What would you like me to play?”
Prussia seemed to think for a moment, “Anything but Wagner - not yet.”
“You haven’t heard his music since the end of the war?”
“Yeah, Russia loved it, or playing it loudly anyway. Played it all the time.”
Austria sat in silence considering that for a moment, then began to play the light tune of ‘Voi, Che Sapete’. Halfway through the song he decided to perform the full piece and seamlessly looped back to the beginning. He began to sing the solo quietly, almost under his breath. No one had ever commented, but he always believed his Italian was better in opera pieces. He looked over to Prussia, who had put his elbow on the top of the piano and was resting his chin on his hand, watching him perform. He never understand why Prussia always called him a ‘piano playing priss’ when he always enjoyed him performing, even when he had done his best to ignore him he could always feel his gaze. For the first time since he had come here Prussia’s attention seemed to be fully on him, not half-thinking about what had happened in Russia’s house.
Austria went back to focusing on the music when he felt himself begin to blush a little. Soon, the tune ended, and Austria’s hands rested lightly on the keys as the tune began to fade. He felt a finger poke his red cheek, and when he turned his head to face him Prussia kept poking his cheek gently.
“That wasn’t too bad.”
One night, Austria was awoken by Prussia shoving him, not to shove him out of bed but it was by no means gentle. For a moment Austria was not certain about what happened, but as he lay blinking at the dark ceiling he felt Prussia moving, turning on the light by his side of the bed.
“What’s wrong?”
“I can’t sleep, I want to go for a walk.”
“At this time?” Austria rolled over and put on his glasses and looked at his clock “It’s only three in the morning.”
“I know,” The ashen-haired man was already pulling on his worn clothes and boots from the pile of clothing on his side of the bed “You can come with me if you want, or go back to sleep, whatever.”
Austria got out of bed and put on his clothes.
Prussia strode out of the house grounds and towards the fields, Austria struggling to keep up with the old soldier’s stride. It had been raining earlier and the ground was slippery with mud, but the Austrian did not complain, only wanting to know what the Prussian was doing.
After what seemed like a long time, eventually they reached a low wooden fence, stretching far along the field grounds. Prussia walked right towards it, bumping into it suddenly as if it wasn’t there. He looked down as if he was only just seeing it now “How long has this been here?”
“Oh...a few decades I think.”
Prussia continued to stare at it, eventually Austria took a few steps forward to stand next to him, and saw his face was slowly darkening, as if the fence reminded him of something. The ex-nation stepped back slightly, then suddenly, violently began to kick the ageing wood.
“Prussia!” Prussia did not stop, only increased the action. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“It’s a wall.”
“It’s just a simple fence! It’s nothing!”
“It’s a fucking wall! I’ve had nothing but walls and fucking fences surrounding me for decades!”
“Prussia, stop!” He grabbed the Prussian but was soon shoved back as Prussia turned on him.
“He treated me like shit! Because your son of a whore betrayed his old boss I was nothing but his little toy to torture! Any time he was angry, even if it was at someone else he’d take it out on me! He took Königsberg away from me!”
“But-most of your lands were divi-“
“You deaf!? He took it away! It’s wasn’t enough, that disgusting tearing feeling of your land going, that part of me wasn’t just taken away - he hacked it out!”
“What?”
Prussia turned so his back was to the Austrian and began to tear off his shirt, and soon his back was exposed to Austria and the moonlight.
It...
Austria had to swallow back the sickness he felt from Prussia’s mutilated back. Instead he tried to steady his nerves as best as he could manage, and reached out to trace the edges. Prussia flinched slightly but didn’t pull away.
“What happened?”
“Russia...Russia said Königsberg belonged to him now,” Prussia turned his head slightly to give him a rueful smile, his voice slightly raw “so he sat on my back and used a carving knife. Said it tasted good even if it came from me.”
Austria was without speech for a few moments “He ate your flesh? Why? What happened?”
This made no sense.
“Just dragged me into the kitchen and blocked the door. Slammed me onto the floor so I was too dazed to get away, I heard Ukraine through the door screaming at him not to do it.”
“...When was this?”
“I dunno, early 50s maybe.”
“Why not just after the war?”
“...I don’t know, when he was hacking at my back I didn’t think ta ask.”
Austria gently rested his hand fully on the Prussian’s scarred back. Apart from the depression where Königsberg used to be he was scarred all over - not all of them from wars - and he was cold, but not from the night. Cool as a body left on a battlefield. When Austria had touched the edges of the wound the chill of the flesh was akin to frostbite.
“Does it hurt?”
“Not anymore. After my back healed up I could still feel Russians hacking away at Königsberg and my people, now that it’s just Kaliningrad with a few Germans in it, it’s almost like dead flesh.”
Austria wished he could take his eyes away from the mutilated back.
“I’m so sorry,”
“What for?”
“For...for everything that happened.” Austria murmured “I wish I knew why he did this to you.”
“If he ever tells you, let me know.” They were both silent for a moment. After a while he saw Prussia’s back begin to tense again.
“I wanted to stay after the wall fell. Stay and laugh at him while his precious dream crumbled as everyone ran away from him - even that crazy bitch sister of his wants to get away so her people don’t starve again.
“I wanted to stay and laugh the way he used to laugh at me and tell me how no one wanted me alive, and I was so damn lucky he took pity on me, worthless Prussia.
“But I’m not worthless, I was dissolved but I’m still not dead, my people still love me even if they’re in different hands, I’m still...”
Prussia trailed off, and then suddenly lunged for the fence again but this time Austria did not stop him, wrapping his arms around himself while he tried to order his thoughts. Was Russia’s insanity that deep? What else happened there?
Soon the fence was broken down, and Prussia was standing amongst the debris. There was no other sound apart from the ex-nation’s deep, shuddering breath, not from exhaustion but something else. He was shivering.
Finally Austria stepped forward, and when he stepped on a piece of wood, which snapped beneath his weight, Prussia spun to face him, his eyes wild. Austria hesitated for a moment before continuing towards him, until he was close enough to touch him. Slowly he reached out and grazed Prussia’s shoulder before Prussia pulled away violently, still watching him as if he would attack. The Austrian simply stepped forward again and pulled Prussia into his arms, embracing him tightly. He could feel Prussia begin to push away before his arms slowly relaxed. He was still shaking minutes later, as he felt Prussia grab his coat, gripping tightly.
Right now Austria wasn’t sure how they got back to the house or his bedroom, but now - tangled together sloppily on the bed stripping away their clothes - it wasn’t very important.
It was almost like the old days, before oils or finesse, as Austria lathed Prussia’s erection with saliva as he worked him with a mouth and hands that were far more experienced than their very first time. When he thought it was enough he sat up, and was caught by the ex-knight’s heated look.
This was a first time for both of them; not alliances, fun, hate, or even just because, but for trust. They both needed this, events and their own stupidity had ripped apart what had been before, and now they needed to start slowly stitching back over a thousand years worth of whatever they had, with this moment. Prussia took Austria’s hand and brought it to his mouth, covered the fingers well with saliva before spitting into the palm, and the Austrian sat up slightly as he prepared himself. Prussia’s hands found his way to Austria’s hips, not demanding or patient, but half-guiding as Austria sunk down onto his heat. They both hissed at the joining, so long it had been for both of them that it hurt a little, and Prussia’s head fell back on the fine pillows when Austria, half gasping, put his hands on the pale, too skinny chest, and began to rock gently.
Sex didn’t solve problems. The act never swept away all the years of problems, mistrust and hate with waves of bliss forever, it didn’t make everything alright or heal wounds, with nations so much sex in the past was to do with domination and duty towards their people; regardless if the nation took glee in the act or not, it had to be done.
Austria bent down to kiss Prussia, and the dead nation opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. He was a miracle, hanging on by the spiritual love of his Prussians - East Germans now - but he still cursed, kissed, tasted and fucked the way he did a century before.
They needed this. After all the years of death, blood on both their hands, and suffering for what they or their people had done, they needed this - something normal, something good.
Prussia seemed to understand this too; his grip on Austria’s hips was already hard enough to leave bruises that would last for days when he sat up and rolled them so Austria was on his back, with Prussia on his knees so Austria had to lift his hips high to meet the thrusts. They were far from quiet - whenever their mouths broke contact grunts, moans and curses wetly escaped their mouths, growing in volume whenever a thrust or movement brought new sparks of lust. Prussia put his arm under Austria’s knee so his leg would be forced to go higher as he loved him well, the thrusts growing in speed and savagery as Austria’s movements met his, never faltering.
Austria had no idea how long they had been going, it could have been mere minutes or long hours, but it still seemed too soon when Prussia’s grip on his hip became painful, and broke the kiss to bite hard on his shoulder as he came, although the shock of the bite and the final hard thrust was enough to send him also over the edge soon after.
Austria was woken by the rays of the sun filtering in through the bedroom windows to shine brightly on his face. He rubbed away the sleep in his eyes slowly, vaguely wondering why he forgot to close the curtains last night. He soon realised that Prussia was still asleep next to him - even when he sat up the ex-nation did not stir.
If Austria was more of the sentimental type he would have laid down again to savour the moment, but instead he took the opportunity to slip out of bed. He opened one of his dresser drawers to pull out a nightshirt, and put it on before quietly leaving the bedroom and quickly walking downstairs to the kitchen. He considered the food in the fridge before deciding to make a large plate of Palatschinken with strawberry jam and whipped cream, another dish that Prussia pretended to hate.
Surprisingly, Prussia was still asleep when he returned. Eating in bed was so slovenly, but perhaps this would work. He quietly sat beside Prussia on the bed with the tray, and started to eat. Soon, Prussia woke, and sat up next to him warily.
“What’s that?”
“Palatschinken.”
“...Thought you never ate that crap for breakfast.”
Austria simply shrugged and carried on eating, pretending to be absorbed in his breakfast. Eventually, he looked up, “Would you like some?”
Prussia shook his head while not taking his eyes away from the plate.
But Austria would not accept that, and lifted the plate, took a piece of the pancake that had already been sliced with his fork and made sure Prussia saw him eat the food and swallow, he then picked up another piece and held it in front of the Prussian. Prussia looked almost unsure, and his eyes darted minutely between the forkful of food and the Austrian. Austria held firm;
“Bruder, bitte .../Brother, please...”
Prussia stared at the food before looking at his brother.
Eventually, finally, he leaned forward, opened his mouth and ate the piece of pancake.
He chewed slowly, seeming to savour the taste, before quickly taking the extra plate and fork Austria had brought and loaded half the Palatschinken onto the plate, and began to eat in his usual graceless way.
Prussia shot him a small glare, the effect ruined by his half smile and a glob of jam at the corner of his mouth, “Stupid Schönling/stupid pansy,” he muttered while chewing.
Austria just smiled, and ate his breakfast.
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Notes:
Apfelstrudel - Apple strudel
Bruderkrieg - Fraternal war. When Austria asks which one, Prussia could be referring to either the Saxon Brother War of 1446 to 1451, or the Austro-Prussian War of 1866. Obviously Prussia means the latter, but when people are surprised they can ask dumb questions ^^.
The Austro-Prussian War was about the unification of the German states. Austria wanted the all the Germanic states to be united, including Austria, and Prussia opposed that because they believed Austria would just take over if that happened. When Prussia won, Austria were excluded from unified Germany. Several southern Germanic states became Austrian, or, like Luxomberg and Liechtenstein, became their own countries.
Fun fact: Part of the reason why Austria lost the Austro-Prussian War so quickly was because they annoyed the wrong people (like the French and Russian Empire, who refused to take sides), and refused to let go of certain land (particularly Venetia, Italy joined Prussia's side so Venetia would be freed from Austrian rule).
kleinen Bruder - Little brother. I figured it'd take Prussia a bit of time before he starts calling Germany 'West', because he's been in Russia's house so long he never really thought about how he's technically East Germany now.
Breakfast ballrooms - A kind of sleepover for wealthy daughters of the upper classes that was very popular in the late 1790s/early 1800s, with proper supervision of course. Over night the young ladies would play games, tell stories, and practise their dancing steps with their friends. Some things never change huh?
Wagner - I'm not sure if a lot of people know about this, but Wagner was Hitler's favourite composer. Wagner himself was anti-Semitic, although it's debateable if he was especially anti-Semitic or had the average 19th century attitude towards Jewish people. However there is no denying that, Wagner's second wife, Cosima Wagner, and especially Winifred Wagner, Wagner's daughter-in-law, were far more anti-Semitic than he. Winifred Wagner especially was a close friend of Hitler's, enjoyed a comfortable life during the Second World War, and there are rumours that Wagner's music was played in the camps. Because of this, today Wagner is sometimes controversial to play because he is now associated with Nazism.
‘Voi, Che Sapete’ - Song from Mozart's 'The Marriage of Figaro'. It's a song by a male character normally sung by women, but I've heard it sung by a man and it sounds lovely.
Königsberg/Kaliningrad - Reference to Prussian Königsberg becoming Russian Kaliningrad...Prussia seems to bring out the worst in Russia.
Palatschinken - Quoth Wikipedia;
'Palatschinke (plural Palatschinken) is the Austrian and Bavarian German name of the thin, crêpe-like variety of pancake common in Central and Eastern Europe. Palatschinken are usually served with different types of fillings and eaten for lunch or dinner. Palatschinken are traditionally rolled with apricot jam or strawberry jam and sprinkled with confectioner's sugar.
Palatschinken may also be eaten unsweetened, plain, or filled with cheeses, meat, mushroom or vegetable stews, topped with sour cream, or cut into thin strips, called Flädle in Germany and Frittaten in Austria. Flädle/Frittaten are used in Frittaten soup - pancake strips served in clear broth.'
Sounds delish!
A/N: Hmmm, despite everything I've written, I still don't think of Russia as just an evil nutcase, just as someone with a very warped perspective. However, that does not mean he is incapable of doing terrible things, but he either thinks he isn’t doing any harm, or that the person needs correcting. In ' A Crown of Snow ' he just wants a family, and after WW2 Russia felt very betrayed, so hurting Prussia was...personal.
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I love your reviews and feedback, every piece of constructive criticism helps me to become a better writer. If you think it’s good, needs some work, or so bad it needs the cleansing touch of fire, let me know! If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask!
Author/Artist: Jamaica-tan
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Prussia/Austria
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Language, descriptions of violence, sex
Summary: 1989, The Wall has fallen and Prussia is back. But something seems wrong, and Austria invites him to stay at his house for a while.
Disclaimer: Not mine, Axis Powers Hetalia and the characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya.
Note: Ties in after the events of ‘A Crown of Snow’, but will be spoiler-free in regards to the events in that story.
I have Twilight Rose2 to thank for this story! I was reading her story ‘Where in the World is Alfred Jones?’ (which is totally awesome btw, go check it out after you read this!) and there was a sweet scene where Austria comforted Prussia who was traumatised by Russia, and from there I decided to try a Prustria hurt/comfort fic. A couple of months later I finally came up with an idea I liked, but it took me even long to write because it was my first time writing this couple and tough subject, but I’m finally happy with it now ^^.
Thanks go to Twilight Rose2, koholint, and my betas I was really unsure if I had done well in this story, so I had several people take a look for me XD
Special thanks go to koholint for correcting my fail!German from Google Translate. GT, why you know no slang?? TT.TT
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Every day Austria wondered if he was doing the right thing.
Surely he was not the right one to help. His brother was the only one who could take care of him; even though he was young Germany was more level-headed than Prussia, with the patience to match. Austria could admit to himself that he had no patience for Prussia antics on a normal day.
And yet here they were.
After the war, Russia never spoke about Prussia, the few times they saw him. If anyone asked after any other nation he would say they were doing well, but when it came to the ex-nation he would only smile and say nothing.
As the decades passed by only the thought that Hungary was safe comforted him, as he tried to ignore his growing fear that Prussia was dead. The empire was gone, and his homeland divided up and mostly in Russia’s hands, so what was to say that he had not faded and died shortly after the wall went up?
After the meetings, Austria took to sitting with Germany and North Italy. He knew that Germany wanted to lash out at the Russian for never caving to his demands to reveal anything about his brother, but he was under the former Allies’ care for now and there was far too much to risk.
Eventually, it began to feel as if Prussia had never existed. There was so much anger and bitterness after the war, maybe others had begun to blame Prussia solely for so much trouble, despite that he as much as Germany had been blinded by the shining dreams of their leader, and followed their orders to the letter. Truth be told, after the war there was hardly a nation left that had entirely clean hands.
Prussia followed his orders, just like him, and just like everyone else.
So after every meeting, Austria sat with Germany and Italy. As the Italian offered quiet comfort to Germany, the elder was glad for there was nothing else he could say or do except sit with his little brother through the decades as the questions about Prussia grew less and less, until they stopped completely.
In May of 1989, Hungary was freed, and when the barbed wire was being torn down they rushed to each other and embraced so tightly Austria still felt bruised the next day.
She had lost weight but she said that she was fine, cheeks flushed and eyes shining with her new freedom as they walked to his home. There was a buzz in the air that the others would soon be free within a few years, and that East Germany would be reunited with the West before the end of the year.
Apparently she gave as good as she got without angering the Russian, and Russia seemed to have a strange kind of respect for her because of that, and between bites of her favourite foods she said things had been rough for everyone for a long time after the war, but by the end of the 50s it was much better. When she casually mentioned Prussia saying that he was looking forward to German beer again he froze, almost dropping the dessert he was bringing her “he’s alive?”
She gave him a questioning look, “yes, didn’t you know?”
After he sat and explained what happened, she was quiet for a moment before speaking.
“He’s definitely alive, but let’s just say Russia kept a grudge over him. He’s very different now but there’s not a lot we could do to help him.”
In November Germany asked Austria to come with him when the wall’s borders were to open. When parts of the wall began to fall, they saw all the people from different sides pushing to greet each other; the two sides of Berlin reunited for so long. But Prussia was not there. They waited, through the vibrant crowds and tears and celebrations, and eventually stepping through the wall into the East to try to find him.
Three days later they found him wondering through the city in ill-fitting soviet clothes, and when Germany went to embrace him it became more obvious how unwell he was. Prussia had always been lean and pale but now he was almost bony and paper white, even his normally brilliant cardinal red eyes were dull. Germany seemed so whole and healthy with his peachy skin, favourite green coat, and the tears he held back shining in his blue eyes as he embraced his sickly, pale brother.
Austria and Prussia’s eyes met over Germany’s shoulder, but they said nothing to each other. The Austrian did not know how to feel, but when Germany finally let go of his brother they embraced just as tightly.
A few months later, Italy visited Austria.
“Where is Hungary? Are you two together again?”
“No,” Italy’s face fell slightly, and Austria had to take a sip of his tea to clear his head before he continued, “Truthfully too much has happened for things to go back the way they were before 1914, the world has moved on too much and so have we, we’ll always love each other in our own way, but...she’s gone back to Budapest to be with her people.”
Italy tilted his head to the side, “I understand that, it’s hard to be away for so long...I brought some homemade ice cream, you want some?”
“Thank you,” feeling some of the old guilt at the back of his memory, Austria got up to serve it to his guest.
Between quick bites of the delicious Gelato, Italy told him how Prussia never went outside of Germany’s house, and even when he came to visit the ex-nation was always in his room, so he had not seen him at all.
After Italy left Austria found himself passing the hall telephone more than usual, and even when he sat at his piano he could not but think of Germany’s house. Before he knew what he was doing, he was in front of the phone, picking up the receiver and dialling the familiar number.
Perhaps, he told Germany, it would nice for Prussia to have a change of scenery for a while? Everyone was so busy with the crumbling USSR, and Germany especially with reuniting his country, maybe he could help and Prussia could stay with him for a while?
Germany refused immediately; it would be as if he was palming him off as an inconvenience, a betrayal. It was unthinkable.
Halfway through the conversation Germany paused, then his voice became faint and muffled as if he had his hand over the speaker piece. After a few moments of muffled sounds, Germany uncovered the speaker and agreed that Prussia could stay, only on the condition that Prussia would only leave when he wanted to leave.
Austria was not exactly sure what that meant, but he agreed. When Prussia visited him before in the old days he came and went as he pleased and he had given up trying to stop him from just walking in years ago.
And so, here they were.
When Prussia arrived he walked straight past Austria as soon as he opened the door without saying anything or even making eye contact, instead he went straight to the room he used to occasionally stay in, in the old days.
He looked after him wondering why he did not say anything, and then Germany walked in.
“He’s not been himself,” a door slammed upstairs. Germany didn’t flinch at the sound, instead giving a small tired sigh.
“I knew that he would be different as soon as I saw him, but he’s not been himself at all.”
“How so?” Austria gently closed the front door behind him, and they made their way to the kitchen, where Germany laid the heavy crate he was carrying onto the counter.
“His favourite beer, it’s all he’ll drink now,” The blond explained “he doesn’t want to me to stay so I’m only going to go upstairs to say goodbye.”
“Why does he want you to go so soon?”
“I don’t know, maybe he’ll think we’ll talk about him. To be honest Austria I would not have changed my mind, but he demanded it, said he wanted to see you and nothing I could say could change his mind.”
“Why don’t you want him to stay here?”
“It’s not as if I don’t want him to stay, you know I trust you, but-” Germany ran a hand through his hair in frustration, “He’s different. Russia did something to him and I have no idea what.”
Austria waited downstairs while Germany said goodbye, and when he came down they walked to the front door
“I’ll call every day, and please be patient with him.” Germany did not look like he wanted to leave, and Austria could only give a smile to his brother, meant to reassure.
“I will.”
Germany did not smile back.
“Viel Glück/ Good luck,” And he was gone.
Austria put the beer away in the fridge, then made a cup of tea and sliced some cake. Prussia always complained but he knew he liked his country’s cakes, and hot tea would be warming after the long journey.
He had not had a full household of staff since the 30s, now he had a cook and several cleaners that lived in the town nearby. He’d given them the day off, so he carried the tray up to the room, and knocked on the door with his free hand.
“Prussia?” No answer.
He heard nothing, only the slightest movement inside, so he placed the tray on the table by the door, moving the table vase of Edelweiss so the tray would not fall. “Prussia?” he repeated “I made a snack for you, I’m leaving it by your door.”
He waited for a few more moments before going downstairs to practise.
Tonight was a variety of Handel compositions, and when he raised his hands from the piano keys it was dark outside, and the clock read past midnight.
When he passed the room to go to bed, the tea and cake sat untouched and cold. There was light under the door, and the smell of cigarette smoke. He still smoked? Austria himself had always hated the taste and smell of tobacco even when it was fashionable, but tolerated it from guests. Prussia rarely counted as a guest but he had given up on stopping him long ago.
As for the snack, Austria could only think that Prussia wasn’t hungry and had not bothered to tell him, and so he continued to his bed.
On the first full day Prussia did not come out of his room at all, nor did he come out on the second or third.
After that, during the day the only way Austria really knew Prussia had left his room was hearing him move about the house. He would not hear him while the cleaners were working, and if food was left out for him it would be found in the garbage or thrown out a window, plate and all. Sometimes, Austria would walk into the kitchen unannounced and see a small half eaten plate of rapidly cooling food and the other door out of the kitchen swinging shut. The only thing he seemed to be drinking a lot of was the beer Germany brought, in fact within a week Austria had to order more.
He saw him when Germany called every day as promised, and Prussia was talking to him on the hallway phone. Austria wanted to speak to him, but he did not want to bother him then, it seemed it was the closest to normal as he would be here. When he finished, he seemed to make a point of walking past Austria, deliberately shoving past him with a curse muttered under his breath. Austria would have wondered what he had done to offend him, but he honestly had no idea what was going on.
On the fifth night, Austria was lying in his bed and about to fall asleep when the door suddenly opened. Prussia walked in, and even with his glasses Austria wouldn’t be able to see his expression, the shadows in the room making his face unreadable as he shut the door behind him and walked to the side of the bed. Austria ran a hand through his hair and sat up slightly, watching the Prussian stand by the bed in the dark, almost unsure. When it seemed that Prussia might stand there all night, Austria found himself lifting the corner of the bed sheets in silent invitation, and after a moment, the other man got in. He wrapped the sheets around him and lay on the very edge of the bed, facing away from Austria. Austria lay down again, and with his slightly blurred vision he waited until Prussia’s shoulders began to rise and fall evenly, indicating he was asleep, until he let himself drift off.
In the morning Austria woke slowly, and when he rolled over he was startled to see Prussia still in bed next to him. Even when they were small, Prussia, then the Teutonic Order Knight, always woke before daybreak to train. When Austria woke with the dawn Prussia always took the chance to call him a ‘slugabed soft aristocrat’, even when the word aristocrat back then simply meant you cleaned your hands before eating.
Prussia was wide awake, and seemed to be staring at something just past Austria, apparently not noticing he had woken. Austria turned his head and saw only the lamp and radio on his bedside table. Austria suddenly wondered when he put a radio in his room, perhaps after the war, but he knew why. After centuries of sharing beds with friends and enemies, including that one glorious night when Switzerland was his, he could not get used to sleeping alone. Even without intimacy there was something so comforting about the feeling of another nation laying with him, so the soft tone of the radio permanently tuned to the Classical music station had to be a substitute.
Prussia suddenly got up and left the room before Austria could ask him why he had been staring, and since he heard him go downstairs Austria decided to ask after he had washed and dressed.
Twenty minutes later Austria came back from his shower, and immediately saw that the window near the bed was wide open, and the radio was gone.
He looked out the window and sighe. The radio was on the ground, smashed into several pieces.
Later, Austria huffed and lectured the ex-nation about not throwing things away unnecessarily until Prussia flipped him off and went out.
But Prussia returned to Austria’s bed that night, and every night after.
Afternoon. pastries and tea.
Austria had almost gotten used to the fact that Prussia kept himself in his own room while the cleaners were working, but he had been unable to ignore the fact that the other had not gained any weight at all, and any time he asked Prussia just ignored him or broke something expensive. Perhaps some normality would help.
Despite Prussia sleeping in the same bed as him every night, it wasn’t easy. On a day when the cleaners had the day off, it took him an hour to convince Prussia to sit with him, and another to sit with him during tea time. But it would be worthwhile, perhaps he could finally ask why Prussia had such an issue with food and eating in front of him.
They were in the lounge, and the Austrian was pouring two cups of tea from the warm pot, before placing a cup in front of Prussia who eyed it as if it would explode. Austria then picked up the small pair of tongs and asked Prussia if he would like anything. Prussia refused, and Austria frowned slightly and was about to protest before changing his mind; instead picking up a piece of Apfelstrudel and placing it on his own plate. He picked up his tea to take a sip when Prussia spoke suddenly,
“Does anyone still do this?”
“Still do what?” he sipped his tea.
“Take tea and eat those prissy sweets, didn’t you get that from England?” Prussia was still sat upright with his hands on his knees, he had not moved from that position since he sat down.
“Yes of course, hardly any of us have time now but I enjoy it while I can.”
“So if you’re so busy why are you always here?”
“I have work in my office, and I arranged for a courier to deliver my documents, why do you ask?”
“Why did you do that?”
“I-“ Austria paused and sipped his tea again to calm himself, “I wanted to spend some time with you; there’s nothing wrong with that.”
The ex-nation muttered something under his breath but Austria ignored him; if he didn’t like it he was free to leave any time he wanted.
Silence stretched between them, thin and uncomfortable. Austria busied himself with his afternoon tea while Prussia was still watched him eat and drink, almost as if he wanted to snatch the food away.
“Do you remember the Bruderkrieg?” The Prussian spoke so suddenly Austria nearly spilled his drink.
“What?” it took a moment for him to compose himself at the question. “Which war do you mean?”
“You know which one, the last one where we ended up kicking your sorry ass out of the confederation.”
Austria’s eyebrow twitched, but he took a bite of the strudel and dabbed his mouth with his napkin before replying “Why bring that up?”
“I’m just wondering how that felt, you and your inbred royals acted like you ruled Europe, but all it took was me, kleinen Bruder and the Italians to get rid of you in a few weeks, bet that stung.”
Prussia slowly leaned forward until his elbows were resting against his knees. From the small smirk on his face he seemed to be enjoying this, but Austria still couldn’t understand why he was bringing up that old subject to try to annoy him.
“If I remember right,” Austria said “I was in favour of a total union, you only wanted me excluded because you wanted to rule, don’t pretend it was for patriotism when you only wanted to grab power.”
“But I didn’t, I let Germany take over and unite, and you were kicked out - then you had to marry Hungary to keep a bit of power.”
“That’s why I regret nothing about it, Germany was unified either way and I was happy to marry Hungary.”
“Then why isn’t she here? That bitch talked about you nearly the whole time at Russia’s house.”
“Don’t speak about her in that way!”
“So why isn’t she here?”
“We’re divorced, and you know very well she’s with her people.”
“Divorce means nothing, why aren’t you two playing happy couples again?”
Austria had had enough by now and put down his plate and saucer.
“I don’t have to explain anything to you because it’s none of your business - and why do you want to know all of a sudden? Why such questions?”
“Just wondering if you were still bitter, and losing Hungary then the last war turned you into a weirdo.”
“And why would that happen?”
“I remember how angry you lost the war, and see, I was wondering if your pathetic defeat made all your people so sour and rotten that someone like that little rat of yours could go so far.”
Austria’s eye twitched, and he finally lost his last shred of patience.
“ ‘Go so far’? He may have been one of my people but it was you and Germany that accepted him with open arms. And 1866 was long before Adolf was born, you know that the world had moved on except for him and his followers! They simply chose to believe in a past that never existed - it had nothing to do with me. Someone like him and his people could come from anywhere.”
Prussia’s expression did not change, but the smirk now seemed slightly strained as if he was only keeping it up to annoy Austria, and damn him if it wasn’t working.
They stared at each other for a long time before Prussia spoke again,
“Why did you invite me here?”
Austria shot back “You seem to despise being here, so I only wonder why you accepted.”
“...”
“Prussia-“
Prussia grabbed the half eaten pastry from Austria’s plate and stormed out of the room.
Austria watched him go without a word of protest. He sighed and leaned back in his chair, taking off his glasses to rub his eyes. He had no idea what that was about.
After midnight, Prussia came into Austria’s bedroom again and got into bed.
Austria was still awake, the events from earlier keeping him from rest.
Eventually he asked, “What was that about? Earlier I mean.”
There was no answer, then Prussia sighed.
“I don’t know.”
Impulsively, Austria slid over to the other side of the bed and kissed Prussia’s cheek.
Prussia turned his head towards him, licked his own lips and then kissed him fully.
One afternoon Austria was attempting to play. Usually when he sat in front of his piano he had known what piece and movement to play from the moment he woke, but today his motivation was eluding him
Suddenly he felt he was being watched, he looked behind him and Prussia was standing by the window near the door. For a moment the two regarded each other, before Austria found himself saying “Would you like to sit with me?”
Prussia did not move “Why would I want to do that?”
“It would be more comfortable than just standing there. You could sit on the chaise or you could stay there, whatever you would like.”
Prussia remained still, so Austria turned back to his piano, picking up a folder of sheet music and flicking through the papers in the hope of inspiration striking.
“You still like that prissy music.”
Austria’s hands did not jump at the sudden voice, but he put the folder down to look at the Prussian. “It’s called classical music now, and yes I still enjoy it, despite your efforts.”
“I still say you can’t beat a good tavern song.”
“Those don’t exist anymore, except in army barracks and camps I suppose.”
“D’ya like any of the new stuff?”
“I like a lot of the newer classical compositions, but all seem to be missing something from the old days. I don’t like modern Americanized music at all.”
“Huh,” Prussia seemed to be thinking, and then, quietly, “I don’t mind it. Western music used to creep in through illegal radio waves, sometimes when Russia was out Ukraine used to tune the radio and dance to music in her room. Belarus might be crazy but she loves her sister too, so she’d never tell. Once or twice I saw Ukraine trying to teach her dance moves.”
“After a while, the others would join in. It was stupid, they’d take off their shoes and shuffle around dancing in their socks and muffle their dumb giggling, like it made any real difference.”
Austrian smiled slightly, somehow he was reminded of the old days, dancing lessons and memories of Hungary telling him about young ladies' ‘breakfast ballrooms’.
“Did you ever dance?”
Prussia snorted, “When did you ever see me dance?”
“When your kings took you along to parties and assemblies’, but I remember you always used to trip over your feet, even when the waltz came along you seemed to relish treading on people’s feet.”
“You were a shitty teacher.”
“You always danced well with Hungary, France and myself, as well as a few of the others. You just seemed to always dance badly with humans.”
“Heh, you caught me there. Thought if I danced badly enough the kings would stop making me dance so I could just go play cards.”
“Did it work?”
“Pretty much, with any new king I danced like a cripple in front of him and he’d soon stop wanting me to dance with those stupid society ladies.”
The Austrian considered this as he let his hands dance on the keys to make a tuneless melody, he had always suspected as much with Prussia. Some things never change.
Half-thinking, he said idly “I think I know why you never danced at Russia’s house, you were too embarrassed about tripping over your feet.”
“Or my body was so torn up I could only limp up the stairs and watch them from the doorway.”
Austria’s hand missed a key; was he serious? He looked at the Prussian, but he was looking outside. That creeping sense of wrong came again - Prussia was never the type to just look outside and enjoy scenery, he always had a point, always direct. Even in defeat he put up such a front that the winner would feel like they lost.
Austria cleared his throat after a moment, but it was nearly two minutes before his voice came back to him, the forced slight humour in his voice seemed so alien, “Perhaps both?”
Prussia’s red gaze looked at him from the corner of his eye, but after a moment he smiled slightly. “Maybe a little.”
Austria returned the smile and turned back to his beloved piano. Shortly he was surprised as he was suddenly he was shoved gently aside as Prussia sat beside him.
“You gonna play something or what?”
“What would you like me to play?”
Prussia seemed to think for a moment, “Anything but Wagner - not yet.”
“You haven’t heard his music since the end of the war?”
“Yeah, Russia loved it, or playing it loudly anyway. Played it all the time.”
Austria sat in silence considering that for a moment, then began to play the light tune of ‘Voi, Che Sapete’. Halfway through the song he decided to perform the full piece and seamlessly looped back to the beginning. He began to sing the solo quietly, almost under his breath. No one had ever commented, but he always believed his Italian was better in opera pieces. He looked over to Prussia, who had put his elbow on the top of the piano and was resting his chin on his hand, watching him perform. He never understand why Prussia always called him a ‘piano playing priss’ when he always enjoyed him performing, even when he had done his best to ignore him he could always feel his gaze. For the first time since he had come here Prussia’s attention seemed to be fully on him, not half-thinking about what had happened in Russia’s house.
Austria went back to focusing on the music when he felt himself begin to blush a little. Soon, the tune ended, and Austria’s hands rested lightly on the keys as the tune began to fade. He felt a finger poke his red cheek, and when he turned his head to face him Prussia kept poking his cheek gently.
“That wasn’t too bad.”
One night, Austria was awoken by Prussia shoving him, not to shove him out of bed but it was by no means gentle. For a moment Austria was not certain about what happened, but as he lay blinking at the dark ceiling he felt Prussia moving, turning on the light by his side of the bed.
“What’s wrong?”
“I can’t sleep, I want to go for a walk.”
“At this time?” Austria rolled over and put on his glasses and looked at his clock “It’s only three in the morning.”
“I know,” The ashen-haired man was already pulling on his worn clothes and boots from the pile of clothing on his side of the bed “You can come with me if you want, or go back to sleep, whatever.”
Austria got out of bed and put on his clothes.
Prussia strode out of the house grounds and towards the fields, Austria struggling to keep up with the old soldier’s stride. It had been raining earlier and the ground was slippery with mud, but the Austrian did not complain, only wanting to know what the Prussian was doing.
After what seemed like a long time, eventually they reached a low wooden fence, stretching far along the field grounds. Prussia walked right towards it, bumping into it suddenly as if it wasn’t there. He looked down as if he was only just seeing it now “How long has this been here?”
“Oh...a few decades I think.”
Prussia continued to stare at it, eventually Austria took a few steps forward to stand next to him, and saw his face was slowly darkening, as if the fence reminded him of something. The ex-nation stepped back slightly, then suddenly, violently began to kick the ageing wood.
“Prussia!” Prussia did not stop, only increased the action. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“It’s a wall.”
“It’s just a simple fence! It’s nothing!”
“It’s a fucking wall! I’ve had nothing but walls and fucking fences surrounding me for decades!”
“Prussia, stop!” He grabbed the Prussian but was soon shoved back as Prussia turned on him.
“He treated me like shit! Because your son of a whore betrayed his old boss I was nothing but his little toy to torture! Any time he was angry, even if it was at someone else he’d take it out on me! He took Königsberg away from me!”
“But-most of your lands were divi-“
“You deaf!? He took it away! It’s wasn’t enough, that disgusting tearing feeling of your land going, that part of me wasn’t just taken away - he hacked it out!”
“What?”
Prussia turned so his back was to the Austrian and began to tear off his shirt, and soon his back was exposed to Austria and the moonlight.
It...
Austria had to swallow back the sickness he felt from Prussia’s mutilated back. Instead he tried to steady his nerves as best as he could manage, and reached out to trace the edges. Prussia flinched slightly but didn’t pull away.
“What happened?”
“Russia...Russia said Königsberg belonged to him now,” Prussia turned his head slightly to give him a rueful smile, his voice slightly raw “so he sat on my back and used a carving knife. Said it tasted good even if it came from me.”
Austria was without speech for a few moments “He ate your flesh? Why? What happened?”
This made no sense.
“Just dragged me into the kitchen and blocked the door. Slammed me onto the floor so I was too dazed to get away, I heard Ukraine through the door screaming at him not to do it.”
“...When was this?”
“I dunno, early 50s maybe.”
“Why not just after the war?”
“...I don’t know, when he was hacking at my back I didn’t think ta ask.”
Austria gently rested his hand fully on the Prussian’s scarred back. Apart from the depression where Königsberg used to be he was scarred all over - not all of them from wars - and he was cold, but not from the night. Cool as a body left on a battlefield. When Austria had touched the edges of the wound the chill of the flesh was akin to frostbite.
“Does it hurt?”
“Not anymore. After my back healed up I could still feel Russians hacking away at Königsberg and my people, now that it’s just Kaliningrad with a few Germans in it, it’s almost like dead flesh.”
Austria wished he could take his eyes away from the mutilated back.
“I’m so sorry,”
“What for?”
“For...for everything that happened.” Austria murmured “I wish I knew why he did this to you.”
“If he ever tells you, let me know.” They were both silent for a moment. After a while he saw Prussia’s back begin to tense again.
“I wanted to stay after the wall fell. Stay and laugh at him while his precious dream crumbled as everyone ran away from him - even that crazy bitch sister of his wants to get away so her people don’t starve again.
“I wanted to stay and laugh the way he used to laugh at me and tell me how no one wanted me alive, and I was so damn lucky he took pity on me, worthless Prussia.
“But I’m not worthless, I was dissolved but I’m still not dead, my people still love me even if they’re in different hands, I’m still...”
Prussia trailed off, and then suddenly lunged for the fence again but this time Austria did not stop him, wrapping his arms around himself while he tried to order his thoughts. Was Russia’s insanity that deep? What else happened there?
Soon the fence was broken down, and Prussia was standing amongst the debris. There was no other sound apart from the ex-nation’s deep, shuddering breath, not from exhaustion but something else. He was shivering.
Finally Austria stepped forward, and when he stepped on a piece of wood, which snapped beneath his weight, Prussia spun to face him, his eyes wild. Austria hesitated for a moment before continuing towards him, until he was close enough to touch him. Slowly he reached out and grazed Prussia’s shoulder before Prussia pulled away violently, still watching him as if he would attack. The Austrian simply stepped forward again and pulled Prussia into his arms, embracing him tightly. He could feel Prussia begin to push away before his arms slowly relaxed. He was still shaking minutes later, as he felt Prussia grab his coat, gripping tightly.
Right now Austria wasn’t sure how they got back to the house or his bedroom, but now - tangled together sloppily on the bed stripping away their clothes - it wasn’t very important.
It was almost like the old days, before oils or finesse, as Austria lathed Prussia’s erection with saliva as he worked him with a mouth and hands that were far more experienced than their very first time. When he thought it was enough he sat up, and was caught by the ex-knight’s heated look.
This was a first time for both of them; not alliances, fun, hate, or even just because, but for trust. They both needed this, events and their own stupidity had ripped apart what had been before, and now they needed to start slowly stitching back over a thousand years worth of whatever they had, with this moment. Prussia took Austria’s hand and brought it to his mouth, covered the fingers well with saliva before spitting into the palm, and the Austrian sat up slightly as he prepared himself. Prussia’s hands found his way to Austria’s hips, not demanding or patient, but half-guiding as Austria sunk down onto his heat. They both hissed at the joining, so long it had been for both of them that it hurt a little, and Prussia’s head fell back on the fine pillows when Austria, half gasping, put his hands on the pale, too skinny chest, and began to rock gently.
Sex didn’t solve problems. The act never swept away all the years of problems, mistrust and hate with waves of bliss forever, it didn’t make everything alright or heal wounds, with nations so much sex in the past was to do with domination and duty towards their people; regardless if the nation took glee in the act or not, it had to be done.
Austria bent down to kiss Prussia, and the dead nation opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. He was a miracle, hanging on by the spiritual love of his Prussians - East Germans now - but he still cursed, kissed, tasted and fucked the way he did a century before.
They needed this. After all the years of death, blood on both their hands, and suffering for what they or their people had done, they needed this - something normal, something good.
Prussia seemed to understand this too; his grip on Austria’s hips was already hard enough to leave bruises that would last for days when he sat up and rolled them so Austria was on his back, with Prussia on his knees so Austria had to lift his hips high to meet the thrusts. They were far from quiet - whenever their mouths broke contact grunts, moans and curses wetly escaped their mouths, growing in volume whenever a thrust or movement brought new sparks of lust. Prussia put his arm under Austria’s knee so his leg would be forced to go higher as he loved him well, the thrusts growing in speed and savagery as Austria’s movements met his, never faltering.
Austria had no idea how long they had been going, it could have been mere minutes or long hours, but it still seemed too soon when Prussia’s grip on his hip became painful, and broke the kiss to bite hard on his shoulder as he came, although the shock of the bite and the final hard thrust was enough to send him also over the edge soon after.
Austria was woken by the rays of the sun filtering in through the bedroom windows to shine brightly on his face. He rubbed away the sleep in his eyes slowly, vaguely wondering why he forgot to close the curtains last night. He soon realised that Prussia was still asleep next to him - even when he sat up the ex-nation did not stir.
If Austria was more of the sentimental type he would have laid down again to savour the moment, but instead he took the opportunity to slip out of bed. He opened one of his dresser drawers to pull out a nightshirt, and put it on before quietly leaving the bedroom and quickly walking downstairs to the kitchen. He considered the food in the fridge before deciding to make a large plate of Palatschinken with strawberry jam and whipped cream, another dish that Prussia pretended to hate.
Surprisingly, Prussia was still asleep when he returned. Eating in bed was so slovenly, but perhaps this would work. He quietly sat beside Prussia on the bed with the tray, and started to eat. Soon, Prussia woke, and sat up next to him warily.
“What’s that?”
“Palatschinken.”
“...Thought you never ate that crap for breakfast.”
Austria simply shrugged and carried on eating, pretending to be absorbed in his breakfast. Eventually, he looked up, “Would you like some?”
Prussia shook his head while not taking his eyes away from the plate.
But Austria would not accept that, and lifted the plate, took a piece of the pancake that had already been sliced with his fork and made sure Prussia saw him eat the food and swallow, he then picked up another piece and held it in front of the Prussian. Prussia looked almost unsure, and his eyes darted minutely between the forkful of food and the Austrian. Austria held firm;
“Bruder, bitte .../Brother, please...”
Prussia stared at the food before looking at his brother.
Eventually, finally, he leaned forward, opened his mouth and ate the piece of pancake.
He chewed slowly, seeming to savour the taste, before quickly taking the extra plate and fork Austria had brought and loaded half the Palatschinken onto the plate, and began to eat in his usual graceless way.
Prussia shot him a small glare, the effect ruined by his half smile and a glob of jam at the corner of his mouth, “Stupid Schönling/stupid pansy,” he muttered while chewing.
Austria just smiled, and ate his breakfast.
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Notes:
Apfelstrudel - Apple strudel
Bruderkrieg - Fraternal war. When Austria asks which one, Prussia could be referring to either the Saxon Brother War of 1446 to 1451, or the Austro-Prussian War of 1866. Obviously Prussia means the latter, but when people are surprised they can ask dumb questions ^^.
The Austro-Prussian War was about the unification of the German states. Austria wanted the all the Germanic states to be united, including Austria, and Prussia opposed that because they believed Austria would just take over if that happened. When Prussia won, Austria were excluded from unified Germany. Several southern Germanic states became Austrian, or, like Luxomberg and Liechtenstein, became their own countries.
Fun fact: Part of the reason why Austria lost the Austro-Prussian War so quickly was because they annoyed the wrong people (like the French and Russian Empire, who refused to take sides), and refused to let go of certain land (particularly Venetia, Italy joined Prussia's side so Venetia would be freed from Austrian rule).
kleinen Bruder - Little brother. I figured it'd take Prussia a bit of time before he starts calling Germany 'West', because he's been in Russia's house so long he never really thought about how he's technically East Germany now.
Breakfast ballrooms - A kind of sleepover for wealthy daughters of the upper classes that was very popular in the late 1790s/early 1800s, with proper supervision of course. Over night the young ladies would play games, tell stories, and practise their dancing steps with their friends. Some things never change huh?
Wagner - I'm not sure if a lot of people know about this, but Wagner was Hitler's favourite composer. Wagner himself was anti-Semitic, although it's debateable if he was especially anti-Semitic or had the average 19th century attitude towards Jewish people. However there is no denying that, Wagner's second wife, Cosima Wagner, and especially Winifred Wagner, Wagner's daughter-in-law, were far more anti-Semitic than he. Winifred Wagner especially was a close friend of Hitler's, enjoyed a comfortable life during the Second World War, and there are rumours that Wagner's music was played in the camps. Because of this, today Wagner is sometimes controversial to play because he is now associated with Nazism.
‘Voi, Che Sapete’ - Song from Mozart's 'The Marriage of Figaro'. It's a song by a male character normally sung by women, but I've heard it sung by a man and it sounds lovely.
Königsberg/Kaliningrad - Reference to Prussian Königsberg becoming Russian Kaliningrad...Prussia seems to bring out the worst in Russia.
Palatschinken - Quoth Wikipedia;
'Palatschinke (plural Palatschinken) is the Austrian and Bavarian German name of the thin, crêpe-like variety of pancake common in Central and Eastern Europe. Palatschinken are usually served with different types of fillings and eaten for lunch or dinner. Palatschinken are traditionally rolled with apricot jam or strawberry jam and sprinkled with confectioner's sugar.
Palatschinken may also be eaten unsweetened, plain, or filled with cheeses, meat, mushroom or vegetable stews, topped with sour cream, or cut into thin strips, called Flädle in Germany and Frittaten in Austria. Flädle/Frittaten are used in Frittaten soup - pancake strips served in clear broth.'
Sounds delish!
A/N: Hmmm, despite everything I've written, I still don't think of Russia as just an evil nutcase, just as someone with a very warped perspective. However, that does not mean he is incapable of doing terrible things, but he either thinks he isn’t doing any harm, or that the person needs correcting. In ' A Crown of Snow ' he just wants a family, and after WW2 Russia felt very betrayed, so hurting Prussia was...personal.
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