“Where the heck is that idiot? If I find him going out with random pretty girls again, I’ll…”
-
“Ah, that was good.”
“Eh…ehm…um…-“
“Time to take it to the front side, right?” Wink, wink.
-
Several hours later, an irritated (and worried, though for the life of him he’d never admit it) Ludwig had come to pick Feliciano up, preparing a speech on punctuality and staying up late. He found Berwald standing in front of the door, looking as (unintentionally) angry as always.
He found himself speaking up, “You came here to…”
The Scandinavian nation nodded in response. “’S takin lotsa time. Wonder what’s goin on n’there.”
Ludwig made a face. “That Italy! Oh god, you’d think he’d not go as far as to stay out so late uninformed, but Italians are!-”
“Yeah. ‘Bet they’re great bed partners too tho’. Ya’ pr’bly know.”
“…What?”
“’Nuthin.” Oh Christ, was Berwald blushing? Of all people to blush-
“You can ask your wife!” Came a sudden shout from inside the building. The door opened, revealing the speaker as Feliciano, who was skipping outside with a red-faced Tino trailing behind him. “Finland probably knows what we’re like,” He giggled and jumped right into Ludwig’s arms.
Berwald was staring and him, looking genuinely angry but trying to hide it (as you can tell, that did not go over well with him), and sharing this expression with Ludwig.
Tino walked softly over to Berwald’s side, shaking slightly. And there was a suspenseful, long silence. It was then when a exchange of glances occurred.
The glances exchange is a marvelous technique of communication. Few know who indeed found it. However, it’s not very reliable, for every glance can mean anything.
What Berwald’s glance meant was, G’ddamit, how can ya’ be th’ husband of this guy? ‘S a f’ckin rapist! Look at what he did to my wife!
Ludwig’s glance, meanwhile, meant, I am so sorry for this guy’s little act, I swear I’ll punish him so badly when we get home, hope you’re not too jealous, sorry for your wife.
(Then Tino glanced at them both, read exactly what their glances meant, and his own meant, I’m not his wife! Dammit, guys, I’m not a woman!)
Then Feliciano opened his eyes, glanced at Tino, who looked back and shuddered nervously, knowing perfectly well that Feliciano’s glance meant, I’ll be back to fuck you more ~ And, in the shape of words, it would have probably be said in a cheerful, sing-song voice, the same way that Russia says in his cute, childlike, voice, “I want to see your troubled, pained, suffering faces.”
Tino wondered when did he start comparing Feliciano to Ivan.
Bloody Deceptive™, Indeed [Part 3/3]
“Where the heck is that idiot? If I find him going out with random pretty girls again, I’ll…”
-
“Ah, that was good.”
“Eh…ehm…um…-“
“Time to take it to the front side, right?” Wink, wink.
-
Several hours later, an irritated (and worried, though for the life of him he’d never admit it) Ludwig had come to pick Feliciano up, preparing a speech on punctuality and staying up late. He found Berwald standing in front of the door, looking as (unintentionally) angry as always.
He found himself speaking up, “You came here to…”
The Scandinavian nation nodded in response. “’S takin lotsa time. Wonder what’s goin on n’there.”
Ludwig made a face. “That Italy! Oh god, you’d think he’d not go as far as to stay out so late uninformed, but Italians are!-”
“Yeah. ‘Bet they’re great bed partners too tho’. Ya’ pr’bly know.”
“…What?”
“’Nuthin.” Oh Christ, was Berwald blushing? Of all people to blush-
“You can ask your wife!” Came a sudden shout from inside the building. The door opened, revealing the speaker as Feliciano, who was skipping outside with a red-faced Tino trailing behind him. “Finland probably knows what we’re like,” He giggled and jumped right into Ludwig’s arms.
Berwald was staring and him, looking genuinely angry but trying to hide it (as you can tell, that did not go over well with him), and sharing this expression with Ludwig.
Tino walked softly over to Berwald’s side, shaking slightly. And there was a suspenseful, long silence. It was then when a exchange of glances occurred.
The glances exchange is a marvelous technique of communication. Few know who indeed found it. However, it’s not very reliable, for every glance can mean anything.
What Berwald’s glance meant was, G’ddamit, how can ya’ be th’ husband of this guy? ‘S a f’ckin rapist! Look at what he did to my wife!
Ludwig’s glance, meanwhile, meant, I am so sorry for this guy’s little act, I swear I’ll punish him so badly when we get home, hope you’re not too jealous, sorry for your wife.
(Then Tino glanced at them both, read exactly what their glances meant, and his own meant, I’m not his wife! Dammit, guys, I’m not a woman!)
Then Feliciano opened his eyes, glanced at Tino, who looked back and shuddered nervously, knowing perfectly well that Feliciano’s glance meant, I’ll be back to fuck you more ~ And, in the shape of words, it would have probably be said in a cheerful, sing-song voice, the same way that Russia says in his cute, childlike, voice, “I want to see your troubled, pained, suffering faces.”
Tino wondered when did he start comparing Feliciano to Ivan.