--Memoirs of a Prussian Defence--

In Which Gilbert Mourns a Pink Umbrella

-and comes out of the closet-

If Gilbert was ever going to write a personal memoir, this is exactly where he would start. With a concerned Canadian standing over him, an angry Brit yelling from the stands and his voice utterly gone.

The events leading up to this did not happen in Risqué, nor did they involve anything to do with that restaurant. Rather with Gilbert falling in love. And it wasn't with himself. Yes, as much as the Prussian enjoyed his own dashing good looks, lively personality and general awesomeness, for the first time in seventeen-and-a-bit years someone other than his reflection had caught his eye.

"You know… Matthew's kind of cute." Now, out of all the people Gilbert could've revealed this to, Arthur Kirkland (who was very protective of his two cousins) was probably not the wisest choice.

"Say one more word if you want this guitar rammed up your ass." Arthur said, in a surprisingly off-handed sort of way. Which only made the comment in itself scarier. When Arthur was being loud and angry, Gilbert could ignore him; but when he was being quiet and casual, Gilbert was on guard.

The Prussian sunk a little deeper into his beanbag chair. "Hey, chill, chill." He said raising his hands and if to ward off the half-glare Arthur was sending him. "I was just saying."

Arthur plucked a string on his guitar, holding it to his head and listening to the tone. "You do realize what you said, right?" he asked, a half-smirk playing on his lips. This still didn't spell good news for Gilbert. How was that guitar even going to fit?

"Yeah," The Prussian said, "I said that Matthew's kinda cute."

Snorting Arthur played a twangy melody on his guitar absently. "Interesting. Now, just how long have you found yourself attracted to men?"

There was a strangled cry. "Oh shit."

"Oh shit is right."

Gilbert was clutching his hair, pacing in front of the Brit. "Oh my God… I like men…"

"Plus it's my bloody cousin," Arthur added in, rather unhelpfully, "And if you date him I'll be forced to kick your ass. Just telling you ahead of time."

"Artie! Can you at least pretend to be sorry!? I just came out of the closet!"

A snort. "More like exploded out of it with fucking trumpets fanfaring and girls dancing," Arthur sat up, laughing, "But more like Eddie Izzard!"

"ARTHUR!" The Prussian shook him violently, "Life-crisis! Here! Now! Me! Your best friend! Pay! Attention! And stop mocking me!"

Arthur shoved Gilbert away. "Alright, alright! Keep your wig on." Still chuckling, he slipped his guitar off, placing it on a stand, placing the heel of his right shoe on his left knee, foot tapping to the melody he wasn't playing. Stupid idiot. Playing music on his leg. "So you're a gay."

At that moment, Ludwig walked into the room, holding a tray of drinks (tea for the Britcoffee for Lud and lemonade for Gilbert) "Uh…" The German's cheeks were a light pink, "Bad time?" He asked weakly.

"Bad time. GTFO Lud, I'm trying to figure out my sexual identity and I don't want you listening!" Putting the tray down on an amp, picking up the mug of coffee, Ludwig turned on his heel and left. "Goddammit!" Gilbert cried; sinking to his knees near the tray, "You forgot the umbrella-" He stopped.

Arthur was grinning.

"Oh God. I am a gay…"

"That," Arthur said, standing up and walking over, picking up the tea, "Or you just happen to like fruity drinks." He sipped it, staring down at the mournful Gilbert.

Dejectedly, Gilbert picked up the lemonade drinking it. "This sucks." He sighed, "And now I can't even say that…"

Walking back over to his chair, Arthur plopped down, still stiff-upper lip about the situation (he was actually remembering every moment for Gilbert's wedding day as it would make an amazing speech especially if he was marrying a woman). "It does suck. Maybe it's just-"

"You should be giving me advice." The Prussian said suddenly, fixing Arthur with a wild, slightly crazed stare. "Y-You know about this stuff!"

Arthur laughed nervously. "No I don't."

"You do!" Gilbert crawled over to him, "Y-You kissed that French chef! You know about this stuff! Artie, Arthur…" he was almost pleading.

Cheeks pink, Arthur looked away. "I was drunk." He said quietly.

"Drunk enough to let a guy eat for face off for five minutes?"


"Whatever," Gilbert said, "Help me."

"No. You want to date my cousin for Christ's sake. And the normal one to boot!" Arthur said, standing up and stalking away from Gilbert, finishing his tea and putting it on the tray, "I'm going home, you can google this shit, you don't need me."

The singer swallowed. "I don't want to google gay."

"Google gay…" Arthur hummed absently, "Good song lyric."

"When exactly did you stop taking me seriously?" Gilbert snapped.

Arthur picked up his guitar, zipping it into a black case. "Around the time where you were telling me my cousin was cute and you wanted to stick your prick in him."


The Brit slipped on his coat. "And that you want to be the butter knife to his muffin." He wrapped a tartan scarf around his neck, nuzzling into the rough wool. "Listen, Gilbert, I'm seriously not the guy you should be talking to."

"But you've kissed a guy!" Gilbert countered, grabbing onto the Brit's sleeve, "C'mon Artie… this is so un-awesome."

"That doesn't matter!" Arthur said, pulling his arm away and picking up his guitar. "So you're a gay! Get over it, move to San Francisco and fucking wear a banana thong, like I even care-"

There was a sniffle.

"Oh Christ…" Arthur rubbed his forehead, not looking around. "Gilbert, don't do this…"

"B-But…" Another sniff, "A-Artie, you're my bestest friend ever…"

Breaking, the Brit looked around. Gilbert was looking more pathetic than usual. Despite his claims to manliness, the Prussian sure pulled off Bambi well. "Fine!" Arthur said, starting to climb the stairs out of the basement, Gilbert in tow.

"Yes!" Gilbert said, grinning and completely un-Disney anymore, "Teach me Artie!"

Stopping at the door, the Brit sighed. "Listen, if you really want to be with Matthew, you're going to have to start spending some time with him." Arthur opened the door, stepping outside. "I'm not saying anything else. See you tomorrow."

The Prussian returned to the basement, flopping down on a beanbag, still drinking his lemonade. Spend more time with Matthew… he only ever saw the Canadian during class. He thought hard, what else did Matthew do? American Football? No, that was his brother -man he'd had to make sure to not get them mixed up. Awkward much?

As this thought went through his head, Gilbert squirmed, rolling around and groaning weakly. There much be something, no, had to be something. And preferably something that wouldn't have Arthur breathing down their necks at all times. Gilbert's mind thought harder. He was Canadian and a young man, what would be do in spare time?

The answer hit him in a brilliant ray of this-is-going-to-be-a-stupid-idea. Matthew was the captain of two teams in the school. He didn't know anything about lacrosse besides the fact that it had big sticks and lots of tackling, neither of which he was really into. So that only left one thing.

"Hockey!" Gilbert said, "I'll join the hockey team!"

Author's Note

Uhoh, Date Plan narration kept sneaking in here~ My English teacher wanted me to work on dialogue. So I did. Also trying a less-planning, more seat-of-the-pants approach to this story. We'll see how that goes.