Hello, all. :) The following one shot was a request fic from, and is hereby dedicated to, my darling best friend. She requested something centered around Austria and when I asked if she wanted him paired she responded with Prussia. They are the only Frying Pangle combination I DON'T ship, so writing this was... interesting to say the least. But I had a lot of fun with it, and I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. :)
Also, a brief note about my Frying Pangle HeadCanon: In my world, Hungary and Austria remained on close and friendly terms after their marriage was dissolved, and no matter Prussia's level of annoyance, the three of them are still tight friends (even if Austria and Prussia refuse to admit it). Hence the human nicknames. Also, I'm usually a PruHun/Edelweiss shipper, so again, this was kind of strange.
Gah, long AN is long. On with the story!
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, or anything affiliated with it.
In a word, Prussia was bored. He was currently slumped down on West's couch, staring blankly at the television screen, an open beer in his hand. He sighed as the character on the screen screamed and tried to run away from the monster, failing miserably.
"Dumbass." The albino chuckled as the girl was violently eaten. He took a swig of beer.
If this had been a normal day, Prussia probably would have finished the beer, possibly (probably) had another one, watched another dumb movie and then called Antonio or Francis.
However, this was not a normal day, and, as fate would have it, Prussia was not even going to finish the beer in his hand.
On the screen, the girl's friend discovered her mangled body and her sobs were interrupted by Prussia's cell phone going off. Gilbert dug around in his pocket for a moment, then dug between the couch cushions and found the ringing, buzzing object.
… Specs? Why the hell was Austria calling him?
He slid his finger across it and put it to his ear.
"Yo, Specs! What, didja miss the awesome me's company?"
There was no dry response, however, on the other end, merely the rustling of clothes and snatches of voices. Just as Prussia was about to mock Austria for butt-dialing him, he caught a few words.
"Nn… Ah… E-Elizave—!"
Prussia's eyes grew huge as he pressed the phone to his ear.
"There, Rod!" A gasp, followed by a thud. "A-Ah… Ow…!"
"Sorry…" Austria's voice is breathless. "Here, come here."
Something else rustled and Prussia quickly hung up the phone, throwing it away from him onto the couch, where he stared at it as though it may bite him.
Austria… Austria and Hungary were back together? As in… together together?
Before he could think of what he was doing, Prussia stood up, abandoning his beer on the coffee table, and, grabbing his keys and jacket, headed for the door, slamming it shut with a resounding finality.
Back together, huh? We'll see about THAT.
He got behind the wheel of his car as Gilbird fluttered after him.
"Pyo-pyo?" Gilbird gave his master a concerned look.
The engine started with a roar and Prussia sighed. "They can't be back together!" He whined. "They were both fucking miserable! And that made me miserable!"
Prussia rested his forehead against the steering wheel. "I'll be alone again." He mumbled, before suddenly glaring around him as though to make sure no one had heard his brief moment of un-awesomeness. He growled in frustration and floored the gas pedal.
Prussia arrived at Austria's sprawling manor much quicker than could be expected for someone driving from Germany, but then, Gilbert never really had been one for speed limits.
The first thing he noticed was Elizaveta's car parked in the driveway and his stomach twisted in knots. They really were back together.
He frowned and shut off the car, getting out and marching to the doorway. Gilbird fluttered off his shoulder and flew around the back of the house, out of sight, in search of a meal. Prussia let him go, his mind focused on one thing only.
Like hell I'm gonna let that crazy woman take Specs away from me again!
The albino's fist froze a centimeter from the door and his scarlet eyes widened in surprise.
Where the hell had that totally un-awesome thought come from? Specs wasn't his, and Prussia sure as hell didn't want him! Sure, it was kinda nice that he didn't just throw him out of the house on sheer principle anymore… a-and maybe he kinda didn't hate spending time over at his place… OK, so maybe listening to the piano was a nice way to fall asleep sometimes…
What the hell. Prussia shook his head violently, as though to clear it, and pounded on the door.
"Yo, Roddy! Open the door, ya priss!" He stepped back and gazed at the door, as though contemplating the best way to break it down, when it suddenly flew open, and a slim white hand, a hand with long, graceful fingers grabbed him by the front of his t-shirt, yanked him inside, and slammed the door shut behind him.
Prussia suddenly found himself face to face with Austria and found that it was rather difficult to breathe. One, because Roderich hadn't released his shirt, which was sort of beginning to choke his awesomeness, and two… two because the Austrian was dressed down, his normal cravat gone and replaced with a simple white button down, the sleeves rolled up past his elbows and the top two buttons undone, revealing skin and clavicle to Prussia's wide eyes.
His hair was mussed, for crying out loud!
Roderich was also wielding a frying pan, a fact which Gilbert noticed after he'd torn his eyes away from Austria's neck (that he totally wasn't staring at, because how fucking weird would that be, staring at a neck…). "Roddy, what the hell?"
Austria sniffed. "I could ask you the same question. What are you doing here?"
Gilbert opened his mouth when there was a sudden burst of choice Hungarian curse words and a loud clatter from the kitchen.
"Rod, get your ass in here and help me!"
Austria ran his fingers through his hair. "Well, I'm glad you're here, at any rate." He said begrudgingly. Prussia grinned.
"Of course you are. Who doesn't appreciate my awes—"
Roderich shoved the frying pan into his hands. "Here. Go help 'Veta in the kitchen."
Prussia scowled. "Why the hell would I help that crazy bitch cook? Can't she cook on her own?"
Austria stared at him. "Help her co…? Gil, she's not cooking."
Thud. Clatter. Hungarian cussing. More thuds. German cussing. Bang.
"Sure sounds like it." Prussia mumbled.
If he hadn't been looking at Austria when he said it, he would have missed the barest hint of a ghost of a smile flicker over the Austrian's lips. It was gone before Prussia could even feel a flash of pride at cracking the uncrackable aristocrat and Austria shoved him towards the kitchen.
"Gil is coming, 'Veta!" Austria called. "I'm going to get more poison from upstairs!"
Prussia froze. Poison? What the fucking hell was going on? Then it hit him. Austria was there in the hallway. Fully dressed. Hungary was there in the kitchen. Probably not naked. Relief flooded his brain. They weren't sexing it up. They weren't—
A loud clang interrupted his thoughts. "Gil, for the love of all that's holy, will you get your ass in here already?"
Prussia looked at Austria, who pointed at the kitchen door and vanished up the stairs. He turned and looked at the kitchen warily.
Slowly, he approached the door, his grip tightening on the frying pan in his hand, before suddenly bursting through the door wildly.
Hungary stood in the middle of the kitchen, wearing a pair of shorts and a pink tank top, her long brown hair as wild as her eyes. She too was wielding a frying pan; but the sight of Elizaveta swinging her frying pan like a maniac in the middle of Rod's kitchen wasn't what startled Prussia into silence.
No, it was the simple fact that every surface in Roderich's kitchen seemed to be black. And moving.
Prussia gaped at the horror-movie-esque infestation. Bugs. Bugs were everywhere. Big, black, crawling, writhing bugs. Elizaveta leaped forward and slammed her pan down onto the counter with a triumphant grunt, smashing several of the nasty looking beetles.
She spun around and spotted him. "Hey, Gil." She swiped a hand over her sweaty forehead. "Rod gave you his pan." She noted. "Excellent. Now put your penchant for breaking things to good use and smash some bugs!"
Prussia just stared. "What the hell, Lizzy? Where did they all come from?"
Elizaveta was slamming her pan again. "Don't… know!" She grunted. "Just… happened!" She sighed. "Rod arrived home this morning from a meeting and found it like this and called me. We have no idea how it happened. Now are you going to help or not?"
"Uh…" To be totally honest (and the awesome were very nearly always sometimes mostly kind of honest), Prussia was not a huge fan of bugs. They didn't scare him, or anything, because that would be beyond un-awesome, but he certainly couldn't say he liked them. He wouldn't take them out drinking, let's just say that.
But Elizaveta was staring at him with that "what the hell are you doing" look on her face, so Prussia swallowed and flashed her a loose grin. "Bet I squish more than you!"
She laughed lightly. "Bring it on, Gil!"
Prussia leapt forwards and felt bugs crunch under his feet as he began trying to knock the bugs (holy shit they could fly too! What were these things!) straight from the air.
Ok. As much as he didn't like to agree with Hungary about anything, hitting things with a frying pan was kind of fucking fantastic.
Suddenly, Prussia felt a sharp pain on the back of his arm and he swore loudly, grabbing at his skin. A large red welt had swollen to the size of a grape. He stared. Apparently, these things had stingers as well. The bug buzzed gleefully and Prussia growled. No way was he going to lose to a stupid bug.
Prussia had just pulled back to swing and end the life of the buzzing, gloating insect when something grabbed him by the back of the collar and tugged him backwards. Gilbert, not expecting it at all, stumbled into something warm and sturdy.
He turned his head quickly and his nose bumped into something soft. The two nations froze for a moment, as Prussia stared at the side of Austria's head, his nose pressed into his cheek before they stepped apart swiftly, Austria coughing delicately. Now that they were further apart, Prussia could see clearly that Austria was holding a white handkerchief over his nose and mouth and was holding a large, dangerous looking spray can in his other hand.
"Back up." Roderich ordered. Prussia stepped back allowing Hungary to slide past him, holding her own handkerchief to her face before she nodded once. Austria stepped forward and, extending his arm, pressed down on the can. Prussia quickly buried his nose and mouth into the crook of his elbow as a green cloud of… whatever the hell Specs happened to keep in his upstairs bathroom erupted from the can. The bugs let out a simultaneous squeak of fear and skittered away from the furious Austrian and the spray can of doom.
Prussia coughed, feeling his eyes water. That was some powerful shit Austria was spraying. For the first (and last, mind you) time in his life, Prussia wished he had a handkerchief.
Austria shook the can again and muttered a muffled curse. He stepped back over the dead bugs that hadn't quite been fast enough to escape Austria's wrath to Prussia and Hungary in the doorway.
They didn't waste any time and Austria shut the door to the kitchen tightly, removing the handkerchief from his nose and mouth. He sighed, relieved. "We'll let that sit for a while and make sure that the room fumigates. We don't want to breathe that." He handed the empty spray can to Hungary. "'Veta, would you mind taking this to the trash cans behind the house for me?"
Elizaveta nodded and left the room, leaving Austria and Prussia alone. Prussia eyed the door warily.
"So… Are we sure that's gonna work?"
Austria shot him a poisonous look. "If it doesn't, then these might as well be mutant insects from space." He retorted, clearly frustrated with the entire situation. He turned away from Prussia to examine the door, and the albino froze in place.
"Specs…" He whispered. Austria ignored him.
"Damn it, Roderich!"
That got his attention. Austria turned around, an irritated word dying on his lips at Prussia's expression.
Prussia stepped forward. "Don't… move… a… muscle." He whispered.
Suddenly understanding, Roderich stood stock still, his fingers slowly curling and uncurling into fists. "Get it off." He barely whispered. Prussia nodded, swallowing and carefully stepping forward, his crimson gaze fixed on the bug perched innocently on Austria's shoulder blade. He frowned, thinking. After all, it wasn't as though he could smash it with the pan. Austria would be beyond pissed at him for smacking him in the back with a frying pan, no matter how entertaining it may sound.
Prussia put the pan down and thought. Suddenly, an idea struck him and his white skin flooded with color. Roderich frowned at him.
"Gilbert! What's the matter with you?" He hissed. The bug buzzed and he stiffened. Prussia swallowed.
"I…. I have an idea. It's awesome, like usual. But you're not gonna like it."
Roderich eyed him warily. Prussia stepped forward and, carefully, slowly, brought his fingers up to the third button on Roderich's shirt, popping it out of its hole. Austria jerked slightly and the bug buzzed. Both froze.
"Quit movin', moron." Gil hissed, his hands still resting lightly on the Austrian's collarbone. "Do you wanna get stung?"
Austria stared at him, his face a blotchy red. "Why in God's name are you removing my shirt?"
Prussia rolled his eyes. "Would you rather I hit you with a frying pan?"
Austria looked for a moment as though yes, he would very much prefer that, but instead, he pressed his white lips together and shook his head minutely. Prussia slowly moved down to the fourth button, popping it out of the hole.
He took a moment to appreciate the fact that he was undressing Austria. Slowly. In his front hall. Holy hell… He swallowed hard, praying to anyone who was listening that he was not as red as he felt. After all, it wasn't as though he wanted to do this… No way. He was just doing this because… then Specs would owe him a favor. Yeah. And Prussia was sure he could think of something he'd like the Austrian to do to—er, for him.
Alright, stopping that line of thought right there.
Austria's eyes were squeezed shut as he took deep calming breaths. He was trembling slightly. Gilbert frowned. "Hey, Roddy, calm down." He whispered, finishing with the buttons. "You're shaking, dude. I'm not gonna let it sting you."
Roderich's eyes opened and blue-violet met scarlet for a suspended moment. Austria's tongue darted out and he wet his lips unconsciously. Prussia's eyes flew to the movement; he couldn't look away. The simple swipe of tongue over lip had entranced him.
"Gilbert. Gil, it's crawling higher."
That bug's not the only thing that's crawling higher, Specs. Prussia flushed scarlet as the thought crossed his mind without his permission (not awesome, brain. So not awesome.) and he forcibly tore his thoughts back to the problem at hand. "Ok. Don't move." Prussia carefully ran his fingers up to the collar of the shirt and, starting with the arm further away from the insect (who seemed to be watching the proceedings with interest) slid it down Roderich's pale shoulder, his fingers brushing the skin.
Roderich made a soft noise and Prussia froze. Had the bug struck?
But Austria only coughed slightly, the bridge of his nose stained with color, and refused to meet his eyes. Gil felt a smirk cross his lips. So. It appeared he wasn't the only one… affected by the proceedings.
For some reason, a warm feeling spread through his lower abdomen and he couldn't force the silly grin off his face.
"Wipe that look off your face." Austria hissed. "I… it's been a while, alright?"
Prussia raised an eyebrow as Austria slid his arm out of the sleeve. "Been a while since what?" He whispered back. For some reason, the mood around them was hushed.
"Been a while since… certain events… occurred." Austria said stiffly, his lips barely moving.
Prussia blinked at him. Suddenly it clicked and he smothered a chuckle. "Dude, Specs, how long has it been since you last got laid?"
Austria glared at him viciously, his cheeks flooding with color. "Shut up." He snapped. "That's not funny."
Prussia, still grinning, moved carefully to Austria's other side. "Well, gee, Rod, if I'd known you were that desperate…"
You'd what? A small nagging voice in the back of his mind questioned. You'd have offered your awesome services? Yeah, go ahead and say that. See how well it turns out.
Prussia coughed slightly, the tips of his ears burning as, like a movie reel, pictures (complete with sound effects) began to fly through his mind at rapid speed. Austria stared at him. "Gilbert, are you… blushing?"
"Nein!" Prussia pressed his lips together. "Look, don't move, alright? I'm gonna squish this bug."
Austria instantly stiffened and stood stock still. Prussia eased the shirt down Austria's other shoulder as stealthily as he could, freezing when the bug made any movements or sounds. The shirt was just past Austria's elbow when Prussia parted his lips.
"Alright." He breathed. "Take your arm out."
Austria eased his arm slowly, ever so slowly, until Prussia was just left holding the shirt.
"How attached are you to this shirt?"
"I beg your pard—!"
But Prussia had, quick as a wink, swept one part of the shirt up over the other and dropped to the floor, crushing the shirt and the bug inside it with his hands. There was a loud squish! as the bug breathed its last, an ugly stain forming beneath Prussia's pale fingers.
Austria wrinkled his nose in disgust. "That was…"
Prussia lifted the end of the shirt and made a face. "Yeah, I don't think you want this back."
He stood up, holding the ball of shirt in his hands, and turned to face Austria. As soon as he did, he was reminded (forcibly so) that the Austrian was shirtless, and he quickly looked away.
There was an awkward silence.
"Um…" Prussia finally began, just as Austria opened his mouth to speak.
"You go first." They chorused, then glared at each other.
"I said you!"
"Damn it! Stop copying me!"
"I'm not copying—!"
Prussia clamped his mouth shut and motioned at Austria with the buggy shirt. The aristocrat sniffed. "I was just going to say… that wasn't a totally stupid idea. … Thank you."
The last bit was spoken quickly and to the floor. Prussia grinned widely, enjoying the Austrian's red ears immensely. "Wasn't a totally—?"
"However, you still ruined my shirt, and I will be expecting you to pay for it."
Prussia deflated instantly. "Aw, dude, that is so not awesome! I'm not payin' for a cruddy old shirt! If anything, you should be paying me for my awesome services in ridding your house of these stupid bugs!" He waved the shirt in Austria's face.
Austria slapped it away. "That happened to be one of my favorite shirts."
"That's a fucking lie!"
"It is not!"
"Is too! I've never seen you wear this."
"Well, my apologies that I do not call you and inform you of my day-to-day ensembles."
"Psh, good thing too, with all the pansy ass stuff you wear."
"Pans—! There is nothing wrong with my clothes!"
"Dude, have you even seen yourself?"
Behind the door, unnoticed and forgotten, Hungary lowered her camera, her smile satisfied. Who knew that this day would turn out so… interesting? The boys would have to finish exterminating the kitchen without her—she had some sudden business to take care of in Japan.
Elizaveta peeked back through the door, where her shirtless ex-husband was poking Prussia in the chest as the albino smirked at him, Roderich's balled up shirt still in his fist and grinned widely.
With the way things were going, she didn't think they'd mind being left alone together for a little while longer. She stepped backwards and pulled her phone from her pocket.
"… Kiku? It's Liz. Just wait 'til you see this one."
Ohh, that was strange. I honestly don't know where this plotline came from. It just... took on a life of its own somewhere around the middle. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it (especially you, Comrade!), and thanks for reading! Please review if you've the time... :)