Title: Alcoholics
Recipient: himeboshi
Request: This fandom is severely lacking in the Cold war/ Behind the Iron curtain department. I like the idea of Gilbo and Eli becoming friends again while being held by Ivan, so something of that nature would be lovely. Angstyness is fine, but I really like some happy moments.
Author/Artist: tokene
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Prussia/Hungary, the omake has the younger versions of the two.
Rating: PG? They swear though D:

Everything, Prussia decides, looks better with alcohol. Raising his filled glass to dilated eyes, he looked at his desk, and fancies that with the amber-tinted liquid, he can't see the bloodstains on the dark wood, where Russia has come in-- Multiple times-- to corner him, corner him and finally reaching over and--

Fuck. That's what this damn liquid if for, to forget all about that bastard.

Another gulp of the burning (warming, Gilbert tells himself, as very few things are in this winter) liquid, and he plunges himself back into an amber-filtered world.

This time, he looks at his drinking partner. The tint colours her washed-grey dress, those thin hands clutching the stem of her own wine glass. His eyes trail upwards, up to her face, where green-turned-amber eyes stare back at him, and damn they should be green not brown, shouldn't they-

"Oi!" The single word echos around the empty room, obnoxiously loud for the silence they've been tending at for the past two hours. Hungary pauses, almost as if disorientated by her own voice, before remembering.

"What'cha staring at, hm boy?"

Gilbert laughed, his whole body moving with the sound, the liquor in the glass sloshing onto the table. People were different when they were drunk, it didn't take a rocket scientist to know that. France became melancholy and relatively reserved, Spain was the saddest drunk he knew. Austria became the horniest bastard on this side of Europe, and Hungary became the blunt, foul-mouthed tomboy she once was. None of that girly, prissy shit, a drunk Elizaveta would wrestle him to the ground to get the last drop of beer, say things which would even send England twitching.

Prussia loved it.

"Just your beautiful face," he grinned, reaching over for the bottle.

Snorting, Hungary beat him to it as she tipped the last of it's contents into her own glass, pushing her chair back to rest her heels on the edge of the table.

"Don't give me that bullshit," she spat, downing another gulp.

Gilbert would be honest: He genuinely missed this girl. In the past few years, he'd seen her less and less, and even when he did, she'd been polite and restrained, unlike the boy (girl) that he'd known in his childhood, the one who had been utterly convinced that she'd grow herself a male appendage during puberty, the one who he had fought alongside as an equal, the one whom he took his first sip of alcohol (and thereafter spent the rest of the day tipsy, laughing and dancing in the fields) with.

"Why Eli, you doubt me?" He smirked, shifting over in his own chair to bump his own glass against her slanted one, as some of the liquid sloshed over into his. "After all that we've been through-"

"Y'said you would..." Her eyes flitted around the room, as if the word she was looking for could be found inscribed on one of the walls. "Protect me." Giggling drowsily, she leaned back into her chair, still grinning.

"I said I would fight with you," he frowned, neglecting to remember that one tipsy evening in the long grasses.

Snorting more, Hungary sipped from her glass, as another silence fell between them.

"But I would, y'know." Prussia blurted out, instantly regretting the words once they were out.

"Hmmmmm?" Elizaveta hummed, seemingly more preoccupied with the swishing of liquid in the glass, rather than Gilbert's sudden words. "Would what, Gil-boy?"

"I'd protect you. I will protect you." He felt like a run-away train; Going way too fast, losing control, and that he was going to slam into a brick wall soon.

The rhythmic swishing stopped.

"From what?"

"... Hell, whatever you need protecting from. Russia and his psychopathic ways. Turkey if he ever tries to invade you again. France's groping, America's idiocy, Korea's groping..."

His voice eventually trailed off at her giggles, as Hungary laid her chin on her crossed arms, smirking up at him.

"I don't need protecting, Prussia."

"... I know," he only managed to agree, staring at those green eyes, that small mouth curved up in a grin, and how could he ever think that she wasn't anything but utterly beautiful?

With a surprising amount of agility and mobility for someone who had drunk a little of half of a bottle of strong whiskey, Hungary picked herself up and tossed herself into Prussia's arms, sending the wooden chair toppling backwards by the motion, the wine-glass thrown to the floor.

"What the fuck, Eliz? You're no lightweight y'kn-"

"I loooooooooove, you Gilbert~" She smiled, pulling back from where her head was, over his shoulder, and grinning at him straight in the eye, her hair framing both of their faces perfectly, and it was all Prussia could do to stop himself from pulling her down right then and kissing her till they both couldn't breath anymore and--

"You're my bestest-best friend and we'll keep on-- Keep on daancing like this--" With that, she pulled him up along with herself, clutching both their hands and forcing him into a twirl.

"Daaaancing and daaaancing in these huuuuge fields," she continued, and by that time, Prussia had caught on enough to give her a little spin. As she came back into his grasp, giggling like a little girl high on sugar, she laid her head on his shoulder, as the both continued to dance to the chirp of the cicadas and the whistle of the wind.

"I missed you." Her voice was steady, and for a moment, Prussia made himself believe that they both weren't completely drunk out of their minds, that they were both sober and knew what they were saying.

"Let's get you to bed."

Another drowsy giggle, and quite a few missed steps later, Prussia hauled Hungary into his room. His house had been downsized, courtesy of Russia, and there was no other place for his frequent guest to sleep. They had sorted out, on the first drinking night, that it would probably be okay for them to sleep in the same bed, as long as Gilbert didn't try anything, and if he did, Hungary would be allowed to properly punish him with the frying pan the next day.

So he laid her down on the left side of the mattress, pulling the sheets over her greying dress, watching her mouth curl up on itself into a little smile, as her breathing evened out as sleep came to her.

Steeling himself, Prussia bent down and kissed her lightly on the forehead.

"I missed you too."

Gilbert wasn't the only one wishing that he wasn't as sober as he was that night.

--

Omake?

"HEY! Hey, Eli! What's that?"

"Ehh, I dunno. Some of the soldiers were drinking it and I just took some. Wanna try?"

"... AWW YUCK. What the hell is that stuff? It tastes disgusting! Here, you try!"

"Don't be an asshole, if it tastes disgusting why would I-- HEY. Stop forcing me to-- AH FINE I'LL DRINK IT."

--

"Hey Gil."

"Hmmmm? What?"

"Dance with me."

"Whaaaaat? No! We're both boys, and boys don't dance with each other, that's disgusting Eli-- Wha-- Stop it! I'm not going to--"

"... See? It isn't that bad, heh heh~ It's funnnnnn~"

"Alright alright, just stop spinning me around and-- WOAH!"

"... I guess lying on the grass is good too, eh Gil?"

"..."

"Hey Gil?"

"... What?"

"I don't want you to leave. My boss was saying that--"

"I won't leave."

"... Y'sure?"

"Hell yeah. I mean, what else could I do, but stay and fight with you, right?"

"So you'll fight with me? Forever?"

"Yeah. I'll fight with you and protect you and dance with you like this."

"Forever?"

"Forever."

--

A/N
LATE GIFT IS LATE. I'm so terribly sorry, himeboshi, there is absolutely no excuse here ;_; Still, I hope you like the fic, even though only after reading it that I realised that there were some differences from what you asked for DX I'm sorry again. I'll write up proper footnotes for all the historical references another time, when it's not uh, 3.52 in the morning.

Footnotes:
- The fic takes place somewhere during the time when the Berlin wall was up. During that time. The situation's been done over a few hundred times, I'd reckon, so I won't elaborate on that.
- "Turkey if he ever tries to invade you again": Over the years, Hungary was invaded by multiple other countries, and the Ottoman Empire was just one of them.
- In 1211, Hungary and Teutonic Knight!Prussia fought together against the Cumans, afterwhich the Order moved to Transylvania to, well, be with Hungary, more or less.
- The Order was expelled in the end, for allegedly attempting to place themselves under Papal instead of Hungarian sovereignty in 1225.
- It's my personal headcanon that the two of them would have drunk themselves silly that night after the Cumans, where they both made Manly Vows to fight aside each other. Manly Vows, and dancing, of course.