There was a moment of silence in which Yao spent in awe as he realized his siblings had actually been concerned for him. The awe vanished when he heard Hong muttering, “I suppose that means I should tell Hien and Mei Mei that we aren’t going through with that plan to off the Prussian. His glaring was getting quite annoying; we’re the only ones allowed to do that after all.”
“Hong!” The tone is admonishing and Yao is barely able to keep the smile off his face. The two are interrupted as they realize Mei Mei’s joined the argument; they quickly stand to separate the other four siblings before someone really does get hurt, even though it results in Yong Soo resorting to his claiming tactic, thus leaving Hong and Kiku doing damage control as Hong tries to control the sisters and Kiku drags Yong Soo away before Yao can pull his wok and ladle out.
Breathe Again
Despite the peace during the drive home, as soon as they’re inside, the tension near explodes. Antonio and Francis have taken to the couch, leaving the two arm chairs for the brothers. Ludwig maintains his manners long enough to offer drinks to the Frenchman and Spaniard; when politely declined, all eyes are on Gilbert. The Prussian is slouching in his arm chair, arms crossed and a defiant, challenging glare on his face. No one wants to speak, though Gilbert eventually breaks the ice.
“Before any of you start giving me the pity talk, I’m going to make two things clear. One, I did this of my own free will. I went to them; they offered, yes, but I said accepted on my own. No drugs, no alcohol, no blackmail, no anything. It was my choice. Two, I don’t care what any of you say. I’m not breaking up with them.” He shifts a moment, a look of uncertainty crossing his face before he continues, “I…I know you’re worried and I can kind of see why you would be. I’m not sorry I defended us, but I am sorry I yelled at you, West. I know you think it’s the Stockholm, but it isn’t. It never was, it never has been. I told you once that I might have loved him; I told you we had a fling. The only thing the therapy did was make me realize I do love him, even if it does seem fucked up.” He trails off, but only because he’s uncertain how to explain further. So, instead, he looks over the other three.
Antonio’s smile has all but evaporated, he looks contemplative. Francis is…smiling? This makes Gilbert frown; apparently Ludwig sees it, too, because he’s frowning at the Frenchman as well. Antonio looks over, the two sharing a silent conversation through the glance, before he’s smiling as well. The Spaniard jumps up first, “Well…I think Francis is better at explaining this love thingy better than me, so I’m going to go make a celebration dinner! Ooh, we should have pizza!”
“That is hardly a dinner worthy of the occasion.” Francis points out smoothly, waving him off, “But, if that is what will make you happy, ‘Tonio, have at.” He waits until Antonio has bound for the kitchen, pursing his lips in slight annoyance when Ludwig cuts him off before he can begin.
“I fail to see what we’re celebrating. This is hardly a celebratory occasion.” He sounds annoyed and Gilbert bristles, near forgetting all civility; Francis saves the Germans a fight, his voice smooth and the smirk on his face one of obvious amusement.
“You never were too good with emotional things. I’m sure you have noticed this is not like you and Feliciano, at the very least.”
“Obviously it isn’t.” Francis gave him a pointed look for the tone, which Ludwig returned with a scowl. The Frenchman waved it off.
“Relationships are made of many different things, Ludwig. Not everyone can have a peaceful, loving relationship. Take Arthur and Alfred for example.” He gave a flippant wave of his hand, “They have many fights, non? But, they are very passionate for one another, oui?”
“Kirkland’s never tried to off Jones.”
“Oh-ho, but you would be surprised. Ask him about 1814 next time you see him.” Francis winked and Gilbert actually snickered a bit. Ludwig quirked a brow at both of them, though his scowl had faded to a more doubtful than heated look. Francis continued, “Very well, what about myself and Matthieu?”
“Canada?” Francis gave the brothers an exasperated look when Ludwig echoes the question, “I swear, you two are almost as bad as Arthur. Though, you have made my point; you do not know him, even though he has been present for every meeting. Yes, he was in the Wars. I think you might recall him being a Shock Trooper.” The Frenchman chuckled as the two paled and winked, “That was not Alfred, I promise you. No one recognizes him outside of those pictures, though. Do you have any idea how long it takes me just to convince him to sit with me during a meeting, let alone go out to dinner with me in public?”
“Your point, Bonnefoy?” Ludwig sounds annoyed again, despite the fact he’s still shuddering as he finally recalls why the boy seemed even slightly familiar.
“My point…is that not everything is a fairytale, mon ami.” Francis shook his head, sighing a bit, “Things may not seem perfect to us, but if this is what Gilbert wants, the least you can do is try to be supportive. I swear, you act just like Lovino. I’m starting to think he would have made a better example.” Despite this, Francis looks wary, “Though I fear if I’d let him give you this talk, you’d be all the more adamant against this. At the very least, Gilbert…Antonio and I are happy for you.” He stood, walking over to ruffle the shock white hair, grinning at the annoyed growl it earned him. He gave an extravagant bow as he excused himself to ensure Antonio hadn’t become distracted in the kitchen.
The tense silence returned and Gilbert had taken up the stubborn look again. Eventually, Ludwig sighed and Gilbert bristled again, prepared for the worst. He calmed a bit when he realized his brother is surprisingly calm and has regained a mostly neutral expression. Still, he’s wary, especially when Ludwig starts to speak.
“I…all right, Bonnefoy’s right. I’m not the least bit comfortable with this…and I don’t think I ever will be, nor will I ever understand it.” There’s a pause in which Gilbert’s breath is caught in his throat. While he’s willing to stay true to his word-he isn’t leaving them, not after finally feeling accepted- though he isn’t looking forward to the potential cold shoulder it will earn him.
“…If…if you’re sure this is what you want….” The breath leaves him and he’s left staring at his younger brother. Ludwig still looks doubtful, but he shakes his head, “You…were able to take care of yourself during the Cold War…obviously, you came back in one piece. I…I suppose I’ll be waiting. …If either of them do anything….” He trails off, knowing Gilbert will catch the meaning. The Prussian shakes his head, finally remembering to take a breath when he lets out a laugh, easily falling back into his usual demeanor.
“West, nothing can hurt my awesome.” His grin softens to a sheepish smile, “Though…you are a pretty awesome brother for the offer. …Not near as awesome as me, but you’re getting there. I’m the mother fucking Prussian Empire. I’ve kicked Ivan’s ass before and I can do it again if I need to.”
“Oh? And Wang?”
“Pssh, he doesn’t scare me. …Ok, yeah, fine, that wok is scary as fuck, but I’ve survived Lizzy’s frying pan for years. I got nothin’ to worry about.” He breaks into his usual grin and the two share an easy laugh as the tension finally evaporates.
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Celluloid Nightmare [4b/5]
(Anonymous) 2010-09-12 01:55 pm (UTC)(link)“Hong!” The tone is admonishing and Yao is barely able to keep the smile off his face. The two are interrupted as they realize Mei Mei’s joined the argument; they quickly stand to separate the other four siblings before someone really does get hurt, even though it results in Yong Soo resorting to his claiming tactic, thus leaving Hong and Kiku doing damage control as Hong tries to control the sisters and Kiku drags Yong Soo away before Yao can pull his wok and ladle out.
Despite the peace during the drive home, as soon as they’re inside, the tension near explodes. Antonio and Francis have taken to the couch, leaving the two arm chairs for the brothers. Ludwig maintains his manners long enough to offer drinks to the Frenchman and Spaniard; when politely declined, all eyes are on Gilbert. The Prussian is slouching in his arm chair, arms crossed and a defiant, challenging glare on his face. No one wants to speak, though Gilbert eventually breaks the ice.
“Before any of you start giving me the pity talk, I’m going to make two things clear. One, I did this of my own free will. I went to them; they offered, yes, but I said accepted on my own. No drugs, no alcohol, no blackmail, no anything. It was my choice. Two, I don’t care what any of you say. I’m not breaking up with them.” He shifts a moment, a look of uncertainty crossing his face before he continues, “I…I know you’re worried and I can kind of see why you would be. I’m not sorry I defended us, but I am sorry I yelled at you, West. I know you think it’s the Stockholm, but it isn’t. It never was, it never has been. I told you once that I might have loved him; I told you we had a fling. The only thing the therapy did was make me realize I do love him, even if it does seem fucked up.” He trails off, but only because he’s uncertain how to explain further. So, instead, he looks over the other three.
Antonio’s smile has all but evaporated, he looks contemplative. Francis is…smiling? This makes Gilbert frown; apparently Ludwig sees it, too, because he’s frowning at the Frenchman as well. Antonio looks over, the two sharing a silent conversation through the glance, before he’s smiling as well. The Spaniard jumps up first, “Well…I think Francis is better at explaining this love thingy better than me, so I’m going to go make a celebration dinner! Ooh, we should have pizza!”
“That is hardly a dinner worthy of the occasion.” Francis points out smoothly, waving him off, “But, if that is what will make you happy, ‘Tonio, have at.” He waits until Antonio has bound for the kitchen, pursing his lips in slight annoyance when Ludwig cuts him off before he can begin.
“I fail to see what we’re celebrating. This is hardly a celebratory occasion.” He sounds annoyed and Gilbert bristles, near forgetting all civility; Francis saves the Germans a fight, his voice smooth and the smirk on his face one of obvious amusement.
“You never were too good with emotional things. I’m sure you have noticed this is not like you and Feliciano, at the very least.”
“Obviously it isn’t.” Francis gave him a pointed look for the tone, which Ludwig returned with a scowl. The Frenchman waved it off.
“Relationships are made of many different things, Ludwig. Not everyone can have a peaceful, loving relationship. Take Arthur and Alfred for example.” He gave a flippant wave of his hand, “They have many fights, non? But, they are very passionate for one another, oui?”
“Kirkland’s never tried to off Jones.”
“Oh-ho, but you would be surprised. Ask him about 1814 next time you see him.” Francis winked and Gilbert actually snickered a bit. Ludwig quirked a brow at both of them, though his scowl had faded to a more doubtful than heated look. Francis continued, “Very well, what about myself and Matthieu?”
“Ok, seriously, who the fuck is Matthew?”
Celluloid Nightmare [4c/5]
(Anonymous) 2010-09-12 01:56 pm (UTC)(link)“Your point, Bonnefoy?” Ludwig sounds annoyed again, despite the fact he’s still shuddering as he finally recalls why the boy seemed even slightly familiar.
“My point…is that not everything is a fairytale, mon ami.” Francis shook his head, sighing a bit, “Things may not seem perfect to us, but if this is what Gilbert wants, the least you can do is try to be supportive. I swear, you act just like Lovino. I’m starting to think he would have made a better example.” Despite this, Francis looks wary, “Though I fear if I’d let him give you this talk, you’d be all the more adamant against this. At the very least, Gilbert…Antonio and I are happy for you.” He stood, walking over to ruffle the shock white hair, grinning at the annoyed growl it earned him. He gave an extravagant bow as he excused himself to ensure Antonio hadn’t become distracted in the kitchen.
The tense silence returned and Gilbert had taken up the stubborn look again. Eventually, Ludwig sighed and Gilbert bristled again, prepared for the worst. He calmed a bit when he realized his brother is surprisingly calm and has regained a mostly neutral expression. Still, he’s wary, especially when Ludwig starts to speak.
“I…all right, Bonnefoy’s right. I’m not the least bit comfortable with this…and I don’t think I ever will be, nor will I ever understand it.” There’s a pause in which Gilbert’s breath is caught in his throat. While he’s willing to stay true to his word-he isn’t leaving them, not after finally feeling accepted- though he isn’t looking forward to the potential cold shoulder it will earn him.
“…If…if you’re sure this is what you want….” The breath leaves him and he’s left staring at his younger brother. Ludwig still looks doubtful, but he shakes his head, “You…were able to take care of yourself during the Cold War…obviously, you came back in one piece. I…I suppose I’ll be waiting. …If either of them do anything….” He trails off, knowing Gilbert will catch the meaning. The Prussian shakes his head, finally remembering to take a breath when he lets out a laugh, easily falling back into his usual demeanor.
“West, nothing can hurt my awesome.” His grin softens to a sheepish smile, “Though…you are a pretty awesome brother for the offer. …Not near as awesome as me, but you’re getting there. I’m the mother fucking Prussian Empire. I’ve kicked Ivan’s ass before and I can do it again if I need to.”
“Oh? And Wang?”
“Pssh, he doesn’t scare me. …Ok, yeah, fine, that wok is scary as fuck, but I’ve survived Lizzy’s frying pan for years. I got nothin’ to worry about.” He breaks into his usual grin and the two share an easy laugh as the tension finally evaporates.