[A/N Rated M for all the good stuff. Yaoi, harsh language, home remedies for phobias, you name it. Oh, kiddies. This is going to be a good one.]

Ice cubes. Cold, wet, chilly, painful. Gilbert couldn't stand them. They hurt his teeth. He couldn't even stand to have them in his drink for fear they would clink painfully against his front teeth as he drank and send pain shooting in his gums. Sure, he could use the sensitive teeth toothpaste that Italy had helpfully bought for him. If he was a pussy, that is. Gilbert wasn't about to go about changing his routine, his life over a stupid luxury like an ice cold drink. That's what he told Italy, who for the life of him couldn't understand how changing one's toothpaste constitutes a change in one's life.

Roderich, on the other hand, loved ice. They'd go to restaurants and he'd ask the waiter for more ice. Gilbert would simply scowl and mumble something about his 'prissy, aristocratic highfalutin ways.' When they were at home Roderich would fill a glass with nearly a whole tray of ice and pour a drink. "You realize when you put that much ice in the stupid cup it's taking up a lot of space and you're probably only getting a half a cup of water," Gilbert would point out moodily. Roderich would just shrug and add the whole tray anyways.

What drove Gilbert the craziest is that Roderich would sit there and chew on the ice. How the hell could he stand it? Here Gilbert was trying to read his damned graphic novel and all he could hear in the silence of the room was the damned ice clinking on Roderich's teeth as the brunette swirled it lazily around his mouth with his tongue. The sound didn't seem to affect Roderich. The other man was totally engrossed in his book. The ice was secondary, just a vague, pleasurable habit he couldn't resist whenever he had a full glass of ice.

Damn him and his oral fixation, Gilbert thought savagely. That's what it had to be, Gilbert had decided one day. Why on earth else would someone choose to chew on ice? Ugh. His teeth hurt just thinking about it. Roderich, of course, didn't see any problem with his little diversion. 'You act like it's hazardous to my health,' Roderich had retorted one day, 'as habits go this is the least destructive one I can think of. I'm not going to stop just because you're being a baby and won't change to sensitive toothpaste. The problem would go away, you know.'

Finally, the clinking stopped. The ice must be small enough to sit tidily on Roderich's tongue, melting slowly and chilling the roof of his mouth to near numbness. Gilbert irritably turned back to his comic. Roderich let the ice melt on his tongue. Hardly pausing to let his mouth warm itself up, he let his fingers drop to the glass sitting on the floor. Eyes never leaving his novel, Roderich leisurely fished for another cube with his long, slim fingers. Finding one that felt to be an acceptable size, Roderich brought it to his lips and started the maddening cycle all over again. Once Gilbert heard Roderich's fingers lazily disturbing the ice cubes in his drink he lost all concentration on what Dr. Manhattan was saying and dropped his comic into his lap in order to glare at Roderich.

"Roddy, can you just stop already? You're driving me fucking nuts with all that clinking." Roderich looked up from his novel with a frown. He didn't appreciate it when Gilbert swore when talking to him. Roderich moved the ice cube around his mouth contemplatively. He let it fall to the outside of his teeth and bulge out of his cheek while he calmly marked his place in his novel and set it down.

"Does it really bother you that much?" Roderich asked curiously.

"Yes," Gilbert snapped irritably, annoyed at the blatant curiosity in Roderich's voice. Dammit, he was not some science experiment. Experiment #7: Audible Chinese Water Torture –or— how long can test subject codename 'Gilbert' remain sane under adverse audible stimulus. "Yes, it does. And you know it. So just stop."

"Tell me, Gilbert," Roderich said in his patient voice, the one he reserved for Italy or Gilbert when he was in a particularly uncooperative mood. "Is it the sound that bothers you or the fact that ice is involved?"

"Both," Gilbert said sullenly. "The ice. It just bugs me that you chew on it all the time."

Roderich sighed and swallowed the remaining lump of ice. He took a moment to select a fresh piece. Pausing a moment, the ice caught between a slender finger and thumb, Roderich cocked his head as if an idea had suddenly struck him. "Gilbert, we just need to cure you of your ice aversion," he said, as if the answer were simple and clear cut. Gilbert could see a thin trickle of water bead on the ice and slide down Roderich's finger. "How we gonna do that," Gilbert asked churlishly. Sounds like a load of bullshit if you ask him.

"You'll see," Roderich said with a sly smile before popping the cube pinched between his fingers into his mouth. Rising from the chair, Roderich slid the ice around his mouth, trying to find a comfortable spot for it in his numb mouth. He walked across the floor to where Gilbert was lounging on the couch. Plucking the comic out of Gilbert's lap, Roderich let it slip from his hand onto the floor. The comic fluttered in the air a moment before landing open upon the floor. The pages were fanned awkwardly and the spine of the yellow book pointed up at the ceiling rigidly, as if protesting such ill treatment. Gilbert frowned down at his comic. He extended a hand to pick it up and right it but Roderich deftly intercepted it.

Still holding Gilbert's hand, Roderich swung himself onto the couch so that he was straddling Gilbert's hips. Roderich looked down at Gilbert with an arch smile before letting his wet, pink tongue slide over his lips, leaving them glistening. Leaning down agonizingly slowly, Roderich's lips met Gilbert's, who pulled his head up as close as he could to meet Roderich. The kiss was wet, but not sopping wet and surprisingly cold. Of course his lips are cold, Gilbert thought, he's been making out with a fucking ice tray all night.

Roderich kissed him until his lips began to warm once more, encouraged by the heat of his lover's lips, which seemed feverishly hot against his chilled ones. Breaking the kiss before it could get any hotter, metaphorically or physically speaking, Roderich pulled away barely an inch and exhaled lightly against Gilbert's lips. Cool breath rolled over Gilbert's mouth and he felt inexplicably aroused by the sensation. Not missing the reaction it had on him, Roderich slowly inhaled and exhaled one more time, this time simultaneously reaching behind him to stroke the front of Gilbert's pants.

Gilbert's breath quickened unconsciously and he leaned up, this time pulling his shoulders off of the couch as well, in an attempt to capture Roderich's lips once more. "Uh uh," Roderich said, switching the melting ice cube to the other side of his mouth with a deft flick of his tongue and pulling his face away.

Roderich moved off of Gilbert's torso and nested himself in between his legs. Slowly, Roderich began to lift Gilbert's shirt and stroke the soft flesh underneath. Roderich's hands felt cool, but that could have just been Gilbert's mind pulling a trick on him, expecting all of Roderich to be ice cold from his chilly habit. Running his fingers lightly up and down Gilbert's stomach, Roderich paused to dip one index finger into Gilbert's naval. Resuming his teasing, Roderich let his fingers leave the dip and run lightly over the skin above Gilbert's pants.

Gilbert had a terrible poker face when it came to things like this. He could act totally indifferent to Roderich's teasing ministrations but in the end his dick would always give him away. Just to be touched by the auburn man was highly arousing, no matter if it was a touch to the elbow or a touch to the groin. Both had equal, terribly lusty effects on him. Gilbert wasn't fully hard yet but he was harder than perhaps he should have been, given the relatively PG-13 rated touches Roderich was giving him. Seeing the bulge in Gilbert's pants, Roderich gave a self satisfied, knowing smirk. Exactly what I expected to find, my dear, he could have drawled teasingly. Instead, he chose to unbutton the pants with his deft fingers and pause to lock eyes with Gilbert before drawing the zipper slowly, languidly, down.

Allowing his hands to move up Gilbert's thighs slowly towards his hips, Roderich reached the waistband of the pants and gripped the fabric firmly. Gilbert needed no instruction. He lifted his hips willingly and Roderich drew his pants and underwear down, both at once and both oh so slowly. "Hmm…. Actually wearing underwear today? I'm surprised. Oh, wait, they have baby chicklets on them? And you call yourself an adult?" he asked teasingly. Gilbert coughed, embarrassed and looking away.

Gilbert felt his attention being drawn back again as Roderich took his penis into his hand and moved with practiced flicks of his wrist. When Roderich was satisfied with the status of his lover's erection, he shimmied backwards a bit to get into a better position. Gilbert's breath quickened in anticipation and his loins ached, dull and throbbing as if protesting the short wait. Finally, finally, Roderich lowered his mouth towards Gilbert's erection, giving his lover a cheeky wink before his lips touched the head. Roderich wasted no time and took a good amount of Gilbert into his mouth at once. Gilbert arched immediately and let out a surprised "AaaahAAA!"

Even though he should have realized beforehand, it didn't click until the sensation drove it home. Roderich's mouth, usually so gloriously hot and wet and familiar, was startlingly cold. That d-damned ice, Gilbert though with some shock. Still, the sensation was far from unpleasant, just unfamiliar. How Roderich could stand to have his mouth so cold was beyond Gilbert. His lover's mouth and teeth were as cold as the ice he so loved to suck on. Roderich must have one hell of a tolerance for cold stuff to be able to stand the frigid sensation.

Gilbert whined as Roderich took more of his enflamed flesh into his mouth and reached forward to grip the base of his erection with his slim pianist's fingers. Gilbert couldn't decide if he wanted to flinch away from the cold touching him or just thrust further into it. In his indecision he stayed rigidly still, allowing Roderich to come forward and take charge. Roderich used his cool tongue to wrap lazily around his lover's length in his mouth. He then pulled his mouth off of Gilbert's erection slowly, adding sensual licks and scrapes of his teeth as he went.

His mouth finally free, Roderich looked up to see how Gilbert was fairing, leaving his hand to busily work the base of Gilbert's penis. Gilbert was a panting mess. His hair was clearly disheveled from where he'd thrown his head backwards against the pillows. Finally meeting Gilbert's gaze, Roderich tilted his head to the side and blinked slowly once, twice. Gilbert was struck, as Roderich had hoped, by how cute and obliging his lover was. Suddenly, he very fiercely wanted, no, needed to kiss Roderich. Before he could gather himself enough to fulfill his desire, Roderich was already back down again, this time bobbing his head upon Gilbert's manhood.

Gilbert was not usually overly vocal during sex. This had surprised Roderich greatly, as he had practically expected Gilbert to do great, whooping war cries during intercourse. For some reason, however, Gilbert was the quiet sort when he was getting it off. Roderich had long since learned to read the ragged breaths and quiet, bitten off moans as signs of approval. And if Roderich was particularly good, he could get Gilbert to moan wantonly while burying his head into the junction between Roderich's neck and shoulders like a good little whore.

Tonight, however, Gilbert was surprisingly vocal. Roderich could feel the nova cane-esque numbness of the ice fading away. He could feel the warmth from Gilbert's heated flesh warming his mouth. It was such a strange, and oddly intimate, feeling. As if Gilbert's body was saying here, take some of my heat. It's not good for you to be so cold and Roderich's body was accepting it gladly. In reality, it was just the transfer of heat between atoms, which naturally moved from areas of high temperature to low temperature until the area was uniformly warmed or cooled. But that's just not all that romantic, is it?

Gilbert continued to moan, the sounds startled out of him unabashedly by the peculiar blow job he was receiving. "Hnnnnn ummm," he commented desperately as Roderich fondled him. Gilbert couldn't hold out much longer. He was reaching his limit under his lover's skilled and loving touch. Roderich could read the sentiment in Gilbert's desperate moan. He bobbed his head down one more time and let his hand quicken. He coaxed Gilbert with his hand and his tongue on the underside of his erection until his lover came. Gilbert gave off another uncharacteristically loud cry and let the blooming, warm sensation of orgasm roil through his body. Gilbert's only regret was that he didn't have Roderich in his grasp or locked to his lips as he came.

Roderich patiently allowed Gilbert to come into his mouth. He waited until he was sure his lover was spent before pulling his mouth away with a wet plop. Roderich swallowed a couple of times, trying to clear the taste from his mouth. Gilbert, still bitter that he never got that kiss, seized Roderich's shoulders and pulled him on top of him. Finally, he was able to bruise Roderich's lips with a searing kiss. Roderich's lips were familiar once again, warm and inviting and tasting of Gilbert's seed. When Gilbert had his fill of kissing released Roderich's lips tiredly and wrapped his arms around the brunette.

"So, Gilbert," Roderich said softly. "Still hate ice?"

"I'll make you a deal. I'll start using the stupid medicated toothpaste if you promise to do that again someday."

"Deal," Roderich said, his head lying on Gilbert's chest. "By the way, mister oh-so-silent-during-sex, got a little loud there, didn't you?"

"S-shut up. I'm not quiet during sex. You're just overly loud. But that's ok. I like it." Roderich laughed. Now that he had been able to make Gilbert moan wantonly once, it was going to be his new mission.

"But I didn't get to hear you at all, Roddy. Guess that means we're going to have to go round two, eh?"

"Pfft. Don't just assume you have it in the bag, mister. You'll have to convince me. But why don't we nap a little first?"

"Ok," Gilbert agreed with a yawn. "But when we wake up I'm going to have the best pickup line ever ready for you. Your panties are going to drop and you'll beg me to fuck you," Gilbert said smugly.

"Is that so?" Roderich said, haughtily. "Me and my panties can't wait to hear this." Roderich took his glasses off and set them on the floor. He then cuddled into Gilbert's arms, letting his head fall into the crook of Gilbert's shoulders. They were asleep in the underside of a minute.

They're so cute together, don't ya think?


[A/N Oh, my. This is the kind of stuff that goes on in my head. I'm so fucking glad that nobody can read minds or else they would be scarred for life XD XD XD XD

Review it. You know you liked it ;D

PS: The first person who can tell me what comic book Gilbert was reading will win a fic by me of their own prompt and character choice. Yeah, I know, right? What a great prize *rolls eyes* I left two clues :3 ]