A Most Informative Lecture in G Minor
Summary: Each person is given one perfect method of expression for their true feelings. Without words. Whether they want to or not.
A/N: This one wrote itself when I was trying to work on something else. I'm intrigued by the scene where Austria used his music to express himself to Germany. Think of all the subtle communication you might be missing in your life if you don't pay attention!
Gilbert almost wished the Austrian prat would just yell at him like Ludwig, or kick the crud out of him like Elizabeta. Those were normal actions to express anger. But forcing someone to listen to music? Really? Although, thinking about it, he didn't really have to do anything but sit there, so it could be worse. When Ludwig or (especially) Elizabeta were mad, there usually ended up being a lot of running involved on his part. And that got tiring after a while. Resigning himself, the former country settled back in his chair with an overly dramatic yawn and closed his eyes, arms crossed on his chest. He stood out spectacularly, painfully out of place in this tastefully decorated and ornate room. Everything from his casual T-shirt and jeans to laid-back posture made a striking contrast to the musician sitting stiffly at the mahogany piano nearby, dressed in a formal coat.
When the song began, Gilbert's mind immediately began to wander. This sucked. It wasn't even a comfortable chair! It was one of those awful hard, wooden ones that seemed to have a vendetta against all the bones in your spine. Sleep was out of the question, so the melody ruthlessly invaded his thoughts. He had sat through enough of these 'lectures' that by now he almost thought he could make out words underneath the music, just barely out of hearing range. But that would be crazy, right? This music probably just bored him so much he had to make up something to make it more interesting.
I hate you, I hate you, I hate you…So rude!... No consideration for anyone but yourself!... The harsh notes jangled through his mind, and he snorted derisively at the words he was obviously inventing…Immature brat! You make me so angry!... There was an intense segment of gibberish that probably barely qualified as a tune. And then the discordant sounds started to resolve themselves, settling into an actual key, and turning into a more controlled melody. It seemed to ache desperately, sad but beautiful. Lonely. Longing. Gilbert would have noted it was in a minor register, had he known anything at all about music. G minor, to be specific. You never listen to anyone. Why do you push us all away? Me away? Iloveyou- Red eyes popped open in surprise at that one. No way he had just heard that, right? Had to be just wishful thinking on his part. But then again… IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou— The music that had been growing steadily more intense cut off suddenly and Roderich stared with violet eyes wide in shock at the albino before him, slim fingers frozen on the keys. He was the most brilliant shade of scarlet, Gilbert noted with interest, leaning forward to stare unabashedly, and propping up his chin with one arm on a knee. The Austrian, still having the appearance of a deer suddenly caught in a pair of headlights—albeit a rather attractive deer—jumped to his feet, nearly tripping over his piano bench in his haste to back out of the room.
"-I, ah-I hope that was a lesson to you, and in the future you'll think more about the consequences of your actions…and don't do it again!" he stuttered, trying to sound stern. Unfortunately, his attempt at a glare failed rather extravagantly as well. Gilbert merely stared in response, looking amused. Oh yes, he knew he was being a bastard, but he couldn't help enjoying watching the Austrian squirm under his gaze. So he kept staring. And finally giving up, the lecturer turned and fled in a dramatic swish of purple coat, leaving Gilbert looking pensively after him.
After a few minutes racing frantically down the stone hall, the brunette managed to make himself slow down and breathe deeply through his nose, trying to collect his thoughts. Um Gottes willen*, what had he been thinking? He had let himself get overly caught up in the music and had revealed far too much. Those feelings were supposed to be kept tamped down and hidden. Never expressed. How could he ever face the beautiful, wild, and yes, sometimes infuriating Prussian again? He bit his lip hard and felt tears prickling at the edges of his eyes…and then a crazy laugh like a bark burst forth and he sank to the floor in a fit of giggles and relief. That's right, this was Gilbert he was talking about! The Prussian was denser than a lead scone baked by Arthur. Roderich had never been able to get through to him about anything, even when chastising him straight to the face. He would never be able to understand the meaning behind the subtle changes in tone and melody of the music Roderich created. His giggles broke off, and a melancholy feeling settled over him suddenly, heavy and smothering. His heart sank. It was true, the object of his affection would never, ever, understand… He sighed and stood, resigned, turning around only to bump right into the aforementioned dense Prussian.
" I found your lecture quite…informative today," Gilbert leered at him. Yes, that was definitely the textbook definition of a leer. Lewd and lascivious described it pretty well, actually. Roderich felt his cheeks burn and his stomach twist in response to that glint in those red eyes fixed on him.
"Indeed? Then you'll stop acting so crass?" he stammered, silently cursing his sudden inability to speak, as he was again flooded with embarrassment. Gilbert knew. He didn't know how, but somehow the Prussian had figured it out. And he would never let it go now. He was a worse tease than all the little schoolboys that dip pigtails into inkwells. My life is about to become a living hell.
"Crass? I am always the pinnacle of taste, don't you know that by now?" Gilbert took a daring step forward, and Roderich immediately stepped back in response, wincing as he hit the wall. He cringed as the other flattened his left hand against the stone next to him almost casually.
"I don't recall that ever being the case, actually…" Proud that at least this time the response sounded bolder than he felt.
But Gilbert leaned in and was suddenly so close the Austrian could sense the heat radiating off his body. He could feel the exhale of breath. Smell the sharp scent of beer and spices and something unnamable that just always was Gilbert.
"Roddy, honey, you're trying to tell me you're not intensely attracted to my incredibly magnetic and charismatic personality?" Roderich's first instinct was to laugh out loud at that. But oh Gott, a pale hand appeared out of nowhere to grab him, and it burned through his coat. He couldn't help but close his eyes and stand rigidly (it was either that or run, honestly), as the Prussian ran his right hand—stroking slowly—down one cheek, along his neck, and followed the curve of the Austrian's side, ending to grip his hip hard. He shivered. When he opened his eyes again, darkening red was mere inches away. Embarrassment was quickly replaced by fury that the Prussian would toy with him like this.
"How-how dare you! You-," Roderich's indignant protest was cut off by a pale finger against his lips.
"Don't even try." The amusement in the other's voice was obvious. "You're the one who wanted to give me a lecture. It is so not my fault that you said more than you wanted to!"
If the musician could have blushed any darker at this point, he would have. Actually, he was begging any God that might listen to grant his wish and have the ground swallow him whole on the spot. Then he could maintain some semblance of dignity. He knew it. Living hell, here we go, hand basket and all. All he could do now was try to mutter an apology around the finger on his mouth. Which didn't go terribly at first. But suddenly that finger was gone, only to be replaced by a pair of lips. Hot, fervent lips that attacked him, demanding. Roderich gave in instantly to the desire he had held hidden for so long, melting backwards into the wall, allowing the Prussian to press up against him tightly. Slim hands, masters at creating music, twined desperately into the black cloth of the albino's shirt. He never wanted to let go. Every nerve tingled where they touched together, and the wave of pleasure from finally attained desire crashing over them was indescribable. They were drowning. Gilbert broke the kiss first, already breathless, but then again, musicians tend to be known for a higher lung capacity than the average person.
"Tell me the truth, does my awesomeness know no bounds?" his self-satisfaction was evident from his tone of voice to the self-assured smirk on his face. "I can even understand the words in your stuffy music! Must be meant to be, babe. Is there anything I can't do?"
"Apparently—shut up," Roderich huffed. He yanked on the black shirt, pulling the Prussian once again to him, intent on proving that musicians also tended to have superior skills with their tongues.
*Um Gottes willen is German for something along the lines of 'For God's sake' or 'For Heaven's sake'
A/N: I'm not sure how many music geeks are out there, but Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, the Austrian composer, was known to favor G minor for his more tragic pieces. I believe that key would be an appropriate musical expression of unrequited love (unrequited at least at the beginning of this piece…XP). Also, G for Gilbert perhaps? Made me giggle, at least.
If you want an example to picture in your head, on youtube: /watch?v=xxwOEVCYRls.
The final movement of Mozart's String Quintet No. 4 in G minor, K. 516 begins in G minor, but eventually lightens to G major, with an obvious change in mood. Just pay attention. :D