Work Text:
Germany lifted his head up off of his desk, tired eyes looking around his office. In the corner was Italy sitting in a chair asleep. Germany stood with one hand going through his yellow hair to keep it back where it belonged. He picked Italy up from the chair to take him to his bed before retreating to his own room.
Still tired from the running around he had to do that day, he collapsed onto the bed. His eyes closed immediately. As he fell asleep, he wondered when the next time he would actually be able to get all his necessary paperwork done.
A scream of his name in the middle of the night roused him and he ran to Italy's side instantly. He sat with the Italian as he conveyed his nightmare to him in a half-crying voice. Germany tried to stay awake and keep his attention on what was being told to him, but he was getting so fed up with the late nights that he just fell asleep with the crying man in his arms.
...
I want a normal life
Just like a newborn child
I am a lover hater
...
When Germany woke up again, it was alone in the bed he had fallen asleep in while holding Italy. He yawned and stretched; his back and shoulders popped with the effort. He emerged from the room to go to his room in order to dress before going downstairs while still trying to work the kinks and stiffness out of his shoulders and back.
"I don't know if Germany will like you being here," Italy said to someone. Germany knit his eyebrows together at the sentence but still descended the stairs.
"I'm his brother," the unmistakable voice that belonged to Prussia said, "he can't be too mad."
"About what?" Germany asked as he reached the first floor. His eyes stayed looked with Prussia's, not even noticing his brother's hand locking with Italy's. "What're you doing here, bruder?"
Prussia smirked. "I can't visit?"
"You usually call, besides," he blew past the two, "I have work to do once I'm done with breakfast. Come back later." He glanced back in time to see Prussia and Italy's faces come closer together. That was all he allowed himself to see though as he turned back into the kitchen.
He opened one of the cabinets and ruffled through it, pretending to look for something to eat. Germany couldn't get the image he had just seen out of his head, but he just kept telling himself it couldn't be what he was believing it was. They were whispering to each other...
Sighing, he closed the cabinet and looked over in time to see Prussia, still smirking, walk out the backdoor. The Prussian stopped to look at his brother and tell him six words:
"Get used to not seeing him." He left on those words.
...
I am an instigator
...
Germany felt his heart break with those words. Italy wouldn't just leave, Germany knew better than that, so he didn't understand why it hurt so much. They weren't involved, so it was clear that they were able to go to others romantically, but Italy relied on him for almost every little bit of his life.
He couldn't leave.
Prussia was just a phase that would end before too long, he knew it.
...
You are an oversight
Don't try to compromise
...
Italy walked into the kitchen, smiling like nothing had changed at all. "Do you want me to make breakfast?" He pulled out a pan and a bunch of different ingredients. "Does biscotti sound good?"
As he skipped around the kitchen cooking, Germany just watched. Several times, he opened his mouth to ask Italy about Prussia but the question just kept slipping from him. He sat down at the small table when breakfast was ready but didn't eat. He stared at the biscotti and then at Italy when he sat down with his coffee.
Italy tilted his head when he noticed Germany just staring at him, and it was starting to creep him out. "Is something wrong?"
Germany laced his hands together in front of his face, his eyes falling to his breakfast. "You and Prussia...what is going on?"
Italy's eyes fell to his own breakfast. "Germania..." He looked back up to Germany with a half-sad look in his eyes. "I was going to tell you, but I wanted to know that it was real first."
"You're together then?"
He nodded. "It's been almost four months now. I tried to keep Prussia away until I was ready to tell you," he muttered, "but he wanted you to know now."
"You were afraid to tell me?" Italy nodded again. Germany forced as soft a smile as he could manage. "You shouldn't have been. I...support this..."
Italy smiled again at the words. "I'm happy then." He picked up one of the biscotti and pointed it at Germany's plate. "You should eat before they get cold."
"Right." Germany picked one up too and ate. He tried to keep their conversation fairly normal and away from the subject just to be sure he let nothing slip that might make things too awkward between them.
After breakfast, he washed up the dirty dishes while Italy took his usual siesta in the living room. Germany silently went to his office to finish the paperwork he couldn't get done the day before. He sat at his desk hoping to be able to block it all out but found that he couldn't concentrate to save his life, (and for all he knew, there was something in there that might literally save his life).
His thoughts just kept drifting back to Italy and Prussia, and how he just couldn't believe it. There wasn't anything romantic binding Italy to him, but Germany wasn't able to let the heartbroken feeling go. He let his hands tangle in his hair and his eyes wander away from the bold type of the documents.
He was...happy for Italy. Or, at least, he knew he should be. He couldn't be, and, to him, there was nothing wrong with that. He felt deep hatred for Prussia, and he also felt there was nothing wrong with that.
"GERMANY!"
At the scream, Germany shot up and ran back into the living room. "Italy, what's wrong?!" He dropped to his knees beside the couch and wrapped his arms around Italy when he threw himself at him.
"Another n-nightmare!"
He hugged the brunette tightly. "Tell me about it..."
...
I learn to love to hate it
I am not integrated
Just call my name
You'll be okay
Your scream is
Burning through my veins
...
At the end of the day, Germany found himself carrying Italy to his bed again. He sat down next to Italy on the bed and watched him sleep for a few minutes before going to his own room to sleep.
When he woke up the next morning fully rested, he was surprised and a bit worried. No nightmares was good, but he couldn't help to think something was off about that morning.
Without bothering to dress yet, he walked out of the room in a tank top and boxers. He went to Italy's room and knocked on the door. "Italien, do you want me to make--" He stopped with the door cracked open not even halfway when he heard panting and moaning in the room.
Germany stood there for a few moments, hoping that he had just walked in on Italy masturbating again, and that he would notice before he had to say something. The thought was shot down the moment he heard his brother's voice drift out, "Italien, ich liebe dich."
Italy gasped and replied, "A-Anch'io ti amo..."
Just as silently as he had opened the door, he closed it and went down the stairs. He stopped in the living room and sat down on the couch with his hands in his hair again. It overwhelmed him to even just hear it, he was glad he hadn't had to see it.
Mechanically, he stood up and went into the kitchen to cook breakfast. Germany went around the kitchen gathering everything he needed to make his version of apple pancakes barely attached to the world.
He is happy, Germany thought as he prepped everything, but I don't like it. Preußen isn't right for him...
...
Sooner or later
You're gonna hate it
Go ahead and throw your life away
Drivin' me under
Leavin' me out there
...
"What's that I smell?" Prussia said happily as he skipped into the kitchen shortly after the pancakes had been shoved into oven. He walked over to the oven, ignoring Germany sitting at the table with a beer, and opened it. "Ah, apple pancakes!" He looked over at his brother, whose back was still turned to him. "Should I go wake Italy, or does he not like these?"
"Wait until they're ready." Germany took a large gulp of his beer. "I need to speak with you about something."
Prussia closed the oven door and walked over to the table. "What?" He sat down across from Germany.
He didn't raise his eyes from his beer as he spoke, "You took Italy from me...after I told you how I felt for him. Why would you do something like that?"
Prussia stayed quiet for a short while before finally telling him, "I felt the same, I always have, and I didn't want to do this...but you never did anything about it. In fact, you and Italy seemed to remain comfortable friends." He smiled a bit. "So I took my chance, and now Italy is mine."
"Prussia..." Germany looked up and sent a glare at Prussia when he saw what he was wearing. "Italy's football jersey...?"
Prussia looked down at the shirt and shrugged. "First thing I saw after we finished," his smile turned to an overly proud smirk, "consummating our relationship."
Germany's teeth ground together as he launched himself across the table to attack his brother.
...
Go ahead and throw your life away
...
The two broke out into a fight. The kitchen table was upended, sending what was left of Germany's beer to the ground and shattering the mug. A missed punch thrown by Prussia left a hole in the drywall, but a kick delivered right after connected with Germany's shin. He cursed and punched Prussia in the face, sending him stumbling into the living room.
Still smirking, Prussia said, "Jealous of your brother Luddy," he chuckled, "how unlike you."
...
You're like an infantile
I knew it all the while
...
"Fick dich!" Germany rose his arm to throw another punch but stopped when smaller hands caught his wrist. He looked over to see Italy holding him back with tears in his eyes. "Italy..."
"What're you doing?!" Italy yelled at him. He stepped over to Prussia to examine the split lip and swelling cheek. "Are you alright? What happened?"
Prussia smiled at Italy sweetly. "I'm fine. I get jumped all the time."
"J-Jumped?" Italy turned on Germany, not angry with him, merely shocked that he would attack his own brother. "You jumped Prussia?!"
"Italy, listen--"
"He became jealous," Prussia interrupted, "when he saw your shirt on me."
Italy glanced back at his boyfriend, saw his shirt, and then looked back to Germany. "How could you?" The look of hurt on his face had disarmed Germany of all his responses to the question. "He's your brother...and you told me you were okay with it..."
...
You sit and try to play me
Just like you see on TV
...
Before Germany could think of something, Prussia answered, "He's not. How can he be when he loves you too?"
Italy stiffened and his eyes widened. He shook his head. No, he couldn't feel that way. They were always just best friends, not a single thing beyond. Had he done something to make Germany think otherwise? "N-No, Germany, I don't..."
Germany hung his head to hide the forming tears. "I...I know..."
...
I am an oversight
Just like a parasite
...
Prussia wrapped an arm around Italy's waist to pull him away when he tried to reach out for Germany, to comfort him like the blonde had for him many times. "Don't," he whispered into his ear, "he'll just take it wrongly...like everything else."
Italy withdrew his hand and looked down. "Spiacenti Germania..." He glanced back up at Prussia. "I'm leaving." Tears finally fell when Germany looked at him with pain etched onto his face He said nothing more as he ran up to his room to get what he needed.
Prussia looked back at Germany when the door to Italy's room slammed shut, and he smirked once again. "I win, bruder." He went upstairs to help Italy get his things.
Germany went back into the kitchen and sat down in the only chair still standing. He buried his face into his hands, holding back his urge to scream and just destroy everything. Especially his brother.
...
Why am I so pathetic?
I know you won't forget
...
Heavy footfalls caught Germany's attention, but he didn't even look up. A small, almost pathetic, farewell came from Italy followed by the front door opening and closing quickly.
...
Sooner or later
You're gonna hate it
Go ahead and throw our life away
...
He stood and looked out of the front window as Prussia drove him and Italy away from the house. Germany's eyes fell to the small side table next to the front door; he slid out the drawer and pulled the revolver he kept at the back out.
...
Drivin' me under
Leavin' me out there
...
He made sure the it was loaded and then went up to his room to dress in his formal uniform. He would want to look his best for when he was found.
...
Go ahead and throw my life away