How a Prussian Gets a Date

Step One: Wherein the Prussian Realizes how nice someone's ass is.

Prussia smirked, scribbling awesome world domination plans on his notebook. For the first time in a long time, Germany had been sick enough to allow Prussia to attend the world conference in his place, and damn it was awesome.

Of course, without Germany there to help keep the meeting under control, the entire room had become a battlefield. Spain had managed to infuriate Romano, which caused the angry Italian to begin punching the older nation's side, and in turn worried Veneziano. Greece had been woken up by Turkey, and they were arguing about fuck knows what. Belarus was threatening Lithuania with her knife for standing too close to Russia, who had become engaged in the glaring contest instituted by America.

Prussia leaned back in his chair. Ah, it felt good to be back in action.

Of course, the problem with everyone arguing was that Prussia was getting really bored. And being bored was one of the most un-awesome things there was. He looked up from his notepad, scanning across the room for someone to bug.

Switzerland had a gun, so bugging him or Liechtenstein would have been a bad idea. Prussia had already annoyed Piano Von Sissyburg enough for today, and Austria would've probably not let him sleep on his couch in the future if Prussia had done anymore.

He scanned the room again. Ukraine? Nah, not if he didn't want a pitchfork jammed into his ass. Japan? The nation wouldn't react, anyways… Finland? Bastard would snipe him if he even tried…

Oh hot damn.

Prussia grinned, seeing what had to be the second most awesome ass he had ever seen (The first one, of course, belonged to Spain. Damn the Spaniard had a nice ass). He licked his lips, zoning in on it. Had Hungary worn her military outfit or something? Nah, she was wearing her green dress, Prussia noted, looking around the room again. Damn, who was the nation with the fine ass and how had Prussia not notic—

Oh fuck.

Prussia frowned. No. Nuh-uh. No way. Nope. Simply… No…

There was no fucking way that ass belonged to that cranky British nation. Just no fucking way!

Besides, Prussia was straight. He liked his lovers with tits. The only time he wasn't straight was after a couple of beers with France and Spain (Damn Spain had a nice ass, had he mentioned that yet?) Ah… He had to invite them out drinking again sometime soon.

Prussia snapped out of his thoughts. Back to the current issue: He was completely not gay for England's ass. Regardless of how hot it looked in those tight military pants…

Oh fuck.

Step Two: Wherein the Prussian Denies it.

When Prussia returned home (Rather, to Germany's home, but that was beside the point), he immediately began writing in his awesome journal.

Not his diary, because diaries were for girls and him using it would be gay. And Prussia wasn't gay at all. Nope, not gay, even if England's ass was so damn hot in those pants and he did have those nights with France and Spain. Prussia liked tits, like the one's Hungary or Ukraine had. The bigger the better was always his motto. Boys didn't have tits, and Prussia liked tits, so logically Prussia couldn't have been gay, right?

Not even if England had pretty green eyes or a nice ass… Or if England had nice hands… Damn, even the Brit's personality wasn't that bad, and Prussia would've been willing to overlook the whole huge eyebrow thing…

Prussia snapped out of his thoughts, looking at his journal that was not a diary to find a bunch of girly-ass hearts with things like "UK + Prussia" written in them.

He frowned. This was so terribly girly and un-awesome.

But Prussia still wasn't gay, and he was going to prove it!

He thought about how to properly prove it for a couple of minutes, scribbling down anything he could think of that would help. Then, finally, he came across the ultimate solution.

"WEST!" He yelled. After all, if Prussia could kiss a guy and not feel anything, then he was totally straight, right? And Germany was the only other guy in the house, so it may as well be him, right?

A few minutes later, Germany walked down the stairs and into the living room, where Prussia had been writing in his not-diary.

The German looked at his brother with tired eyes. Being sick in his house alone was preferable. Being sick in his house with Italy was annoying, but at least someone would cook for him. Being sick in his house with Prussia…

Words couldn't describe it. Germany frowned; he hoped his brother hadn't destroyed something or made a huge mess.

Prussia jumped up, moving closer to his brother, "West! I need you to kiss me!"

Germany's eyes widened for a moment, only to be replaced by the younger nation fainting.

Prussia frowned. Fainting was really wimpy, and he knew he had raised his little brother better than that. He'd have a talk with the younger nation when he woke up. For now, though, Prussia knew he had to get this whole gay or straight thing over with.

The big question was which nation to go to next? Poland? Nah, he got too bitchy and was still kind of pissed over what Prussia had done in the past. France? No… He'd kissed France before, and knew that it totally wasn't gay when it was with France, and the same thing went for Spain. Switzerland? Not if he didn't wanted his head blown off. Austria? Er…

Well, Austria was better than the other choices, Prussia decided, even if he was a sissy who played the piano. Besides, maybe, if he was lucky, Prussia could catch a glimpse of Hungary taking a shower.

Ah, that'd be hot. She had such nice boobs.

And thus, without another second wasted, Prussia went off to Austria's house.

It only took a few minutes to get to Austria's house. Prussia had considered knocking, rather than barging in, but quickly decided that Austria wouldn't have let him in if he had done it.

Then it was time for the actual proving that he was straight by kissing Austria. Knowing the pussy, he would've been in the piano room, so Prussia went there immediately.

And of course Prussia was right, because he was too awesome to ever be wrong. Austria was playing his piano, as per usual. Prussia thought about how to get it over with for a couple of moments, thankful that the aristocrat was lost to the world whenever he even got near an instrument.

Eventually, Prussia concluded it would be best to just go up and do it, explanations be damned. It's not like Austria could beat him up if he got annoyed or anything.

So, without another pause, Prussia marched up to Austria, grabbed the back of the aristocrat's head, and planted his lips on Austria's.

And promptly felt nothing. Huh…

Just for research's sake, Prussia decided to try deepening his kiss with the aristocrat. He was a little surprised to find Austria kissing back a little bit. No wonder Hungary stayed with this guy, Prussia thought, he's actually kind of decent at this.

Prussia still hadn't felt anything romantic, though, so he frowned, pulling off. "Well fuck." He said, simply.

Austria raised his eyebrows, sputtering indignantly, "W-what? That's all you can say! What was that even for?"

Prussia shrugged, "I wanted to see if I was gay, and West fainted when I asked him, so-"

Austria's eyes widened, "You asked your little brother to kiss you?" He shook his head, muttering something about how that was the reason the younger German was so repressed. "And why did you need to see if you were gay, anyways?"

Prussia immediately flushed. Shit, he hadn't thought that far ahead, "None of your business, sissy." He replied quickly.

Austria cocked an eyebrow; "You came into my house without asking, pinned me against my piano and kissed me, all without my permission. I think you owe me an explanation."

"Hey! You were the one who kissed back!" Prussia exclaimed.

Austria muttered something about it being Hungary's fault, and him being conditioned to it. "That doesn't matter, though. What does matter is why you were kissing me on the grounds of 'wanting to see if you were gay'."

Prussia considered telling the sissy to go fuck himself, but decided to hold off for a moment. Maybe he could help after all. He kissed back, but still was dating Hungary, so maybe he could help a little bit?

And so Prussia sat down beside Austria on the piano bench and promptly began spewing everything that had happened to make him question his sexuality.

"So you know that last meeting? I was just sitting back being my awesome self when I saw the most fucking amazing ass ever, and you know I thought it belonged to 'Liza at first, because you know how tight that ass is. So damn hot… Almost as good as Antonio's, but you know no one can beat that ass."

Austria sighed, "Gilbert…"

"Anyways, so I figured it was Hungary, but then the guy—person stood up and it was England, I mean what the fuck! So I decided to go figure out if I was gay or not, and since West passed out when I asked him I figured you'd be the next best person to try it with."

Prussia then realized how horribly girly he sounded, gushing all his feelings to Austria like a little bitch. He frowned, punching Austria's arm to regain some of his lost manhood.

Austria winced, because he was totally wimpy like that, before sighing and rubbing at his temples, "Gilbert… Sexuality isn't as concrete as you think." He explained, "And besides, you've slept with Antonio and Francis enough times, how can you honestly say you're straight?" He asked.

Prussia blinked, "Sleeping with Antonio and Francis is different. They have shagged everyone, seriously."

Austria raised an eyebrow, but sighed upon remembering that the Prussian would never realize what was wrong with his statement, "To cut a long story short, it's possible to like both. It's called being bisexual." He finished.

"So I'm not gay if I think England's ass is awesome?"

Austria cringed at Prussia's… crude way of phrasing it. "Not exactly, but-"

"Thanks man! I'm going to go get myself a piece of hot British ass!"

Austria merely sighed, watching the Prussian man run off before returning to his piano.

Step Three: Wherein the Prussian Fails Epically.

Prussia had the most awesome smile ever as he walked into Germany's house.

But of course, anything Prussia did was awesome, so he supposed that it was to be expected.

Either way, Prussia was thrilled to know that he wasn't gay, and could still flirt with Hungary without getting confused, but at the same time was gay enough that he could get himself a piece of hot British ass.

Life was kind of awesome sometimes.

He walked up to the couch again, frowning when he saw Germany still passed out on the floor. Prussia sighed, he knew he had raised West better than this. He'd have to lecture his brother about being so un-awesome when he woke up.

He smirked, despite his brother's lack of awesome. He was going to get into England's pants and be totally not gay about it, because he had thought of the most incredibly awesome plan.

Luckily for Prussia, the world meetings lasted a week, and Germany was still too sick to attend. Which meant, of course, Prussia could instigate his (awesome) plan and get into England's pants as soon as possible.

Because there was no way his plan could fail, right?

Prussia sauntered into the meeting. He was totally serious about courting England. After all, why else would he have even bothered to arrive on time? He looked into his bag, confirming that, indeed, he had remembered to bring his 'secret weapon'.

Because even if England tried to reject him (Which he wouldn't because Prussia was too awesome to be rejected by anyone), no one could resist the promise of the 'secret weapon', and he would get himself a hot piece of that British ass.

He looked around for a moment, trying to spot the hot Brit he was trying to court. It took the Prussian a while, but eventually, he managed to find England arguing with France and America in a corner of the room.

With a confident smile on his face, Prussia marched up to the group, giving his prize winning awesome smirk.

He nodded in France's direction, giving his fellow bad friend some acknowledgement before turning to England.

God, even his eyebrows weren't that bad, Prussia thought. This was the moment of truth and Prussia knew it. He was totally going to get himself some hot British action.

He gave a smirk, putting his hand on England's shoulder. "So you know how awesome I am, right?"

England simply frowned at the Prussian's advances, shoving his hand off his shoulder. "Your not even a country anymore. That's not very 'awesome', if you ask me."

Prussia frowned for a second, but he wasn't going to be deterred, because he was far too awesome to not get himself a piece of hot British ass.

"So, would you be interested in going on a date with the awesome me?"

France face palmed from the sidelines, muttering something about how the act of l'amour was getting butchered. America began laughing, his argument with the other nations long forgotten.

Hungary also seemed to get closer to the group, much to Prussia's confusion. But that didn't matter to him, because soon he was going to get to drag a hot Brit around and-

"No." England replied, simply.

Prussia raised an eyebrow, "What? Why wouldn't you want to go out with the awesome me?"

England frowned, "We barely even talk, Gilbert. And why the hell would I even want to go out with you, anyways? All you care about is yourself, and you aren't even a nation anymore."

Thankfully, Prussia had one final hidden weapon. With a triumphant smile, he pulled out the box of awesome German chocolate. "Even if I offer you some German chocolate?" He asked, giving an awesome wink.

"What part of no don't you understand? Bloody hell… Gilbert, I do not want to go out with you, and never will. Understand?"

Step Three: Wherein the Prussian Pouts (Like a Little Girl)

"Gilbert, you've been on my couch for a week now."

A grunt came from a pile of blankets and empty ice cream containers.

"Elizaveta is starting to get annoyed."

Another grunt.

"It's your own fault Ludwig is too traumatized to let you back in the house."

A whining sound.

"The least you could do is shower or clean up. You're starting to stink."

A pathetic sounding sob.

Austria sighed, "…That's it. I'm calling Francis and Antonio."

Step Four: Wherein the Prussian Gets Help from Bad Friends (And Fangirls).

After a good hour of totally not sobbing pathetically, another tub of ice cream, and a small nap, Prussia woke up to find France and Spain standing above him looking horribly disappointed.

"Mon dieu, this is really pathetic." France deadpanned, pulling a few of the blankets off of the Prussian heap on the couch.

Prussia gave another small, but totally manly and not wimpy, sob moan hybrid, trying to grab at the blankets.

France sighed, throwing the blankets to the side. "You should not be this upset that one of your pranks didn't work, Gilbert."

Prussia looked up from his spot on the couch. "Wasn't a prank…" He murmered.

"What did you say? Speak up, Gilby!" Spain commanded.

"I said it wasn't a prank!" Prussia yelled, trying to grab another tub of ice cream. Alas, he had eaten all of the ones in close proximity and France and Spain would probably not let him get up anytime soon.

France's jaw dropped, "A-are you serious?" He asked, shaking his head, "In that case we'll take you out to a bar and get you some drunk floozy! It's the best way to get over a rejection, after all."

Prussia frowned, trying to cuddle further into the couch, "Don't want a slutty chick… Want Arthur."

"Oh mon dieu, you're serious about this, aren't you?" France sighed.

Prussia buried his head in the couch and made a strange groaning noise.

Spain's expression brightened, "That's so cute! Our little Gilbert has finally fallen in love!" He exclaimed.

Prussia threw an empty ice cream carton at the Spaniard.

The overly cheery man dodged it, "So cute!" He sing-songed.

Prussia merely groaned in response.

France sighed, rubbing his temples, "Gilbert, are you really serious about this?" He asked again.

"Yes! For fuck's sake, France." Prussia replied.

France and Spain exchanged glances and whispers for a few minutes, while Prussia made attempts to melt himself into the couch.

Finally, after a few minutes of whispering, France spoke, "All right, Prussia, we'll help you get a date with England."

Prussia immediately jumped off the couch, "What, really?" He asked, swinging his arms around Spain and France and pulling them into a tight hug, "Man, you guys are awesome! I will get some hot British ass after all!" He exclaimed.

"Not until you take a shower." France replied, pushing the Prussian off of him.

After an hour-long shower, and an awesome masturbation session in the shower (Damn that England and his tight ass), Prussia was back in business!

He couldn't believe how lame he had been being before. Austria must've been rubbing off on him, he figured, there was no other excuse for the complete and utter amount of utter suckishness he had displayed. Ah, well, even at his worst he was more awesome than that sissy Austria.

He wandered into the main room with confidence and purpose, because now he was finally going to get a hot Brit! After all, no one could resist the awesome Prussia!

He flopped onto the couch, between France and Spain, "So how are you two going to get me some hot British ass?" He asked, before noticing a new addition to their awesome group. "Elizabeta… What the hell are you doing here?" He asked. Not that Prussia was complaining, of course. After all, she was wearing a white shirt, and from Prussia's angle he could've sworn he could see a lacy bra under it.

She sighed, "It's going to get you off of Roderich's couch, isn't it?" She replied, flipping a lock of long, brown hair over her shoulder.

Prussia smirked as Spain and France both mouthed "Videos", "Pictures", and "Promises of kinky boy sex".

He leaned back against the couch, "So how the hell do I get in England's pants?" He asked.

France smiled, "Well, mon ami, we were brainstorming, and we have three things for you to try."

Prussia raised an eyebrow, "Kay… So what do I do?"

Spain smiled, leaning against the Prussian's shoulder, "Well, before me and Lovi got together, I sent him flowers every day until he finally agreed to go out with me! He looked so cute…" Spain explained, dazed expression on his face.

Prussia nodded. Sending flowers? That would be easy! If that was all he had to do, then he could totally get in England's pants no problem.

Austria sighed, passing Prussia an ice pack. "Mind telling me what you did?" He asked.

Prussia frowned, pressing the ice pack against his injured eye, "How the hell was I supposed to know he was allergic to cornflowers? Who the hell is even allergic to cornflowers?" He whined, only not really because Prussia was too awesome to whine. Ever.

Besides, even if England was allergic to cornflowers, it was still a dick move to give him a black eye, Prussia felt.

Prussia turned to his group of helpers, making sure to glare at Spain with his working eye, "So anyone got any other bright ideas?"

Hungary brightened up instantly, "Well, before Roderich and I got married, the most romantic thing he did was play his piano outside my window one night… It was so sweet of him…" She explained, looking deep into her ex-husband's eyes.

Austria blushed at that memory, but the potentially sweet moment was ruined by a certain Prussian's yelling, "So all I have to do is play music outside his window and he'll fall down at my feet?" He asked.

Hungary frowned, "Well, you have to also choose the right-"

"Thanks Liza! Man, this will be easier than I thought." Prussia interrupted, running off.

Hungary sighed, looking at Spain and France. "I tried." She replied.

Prussia cringed, nursing a particularly bad wound on his head.

Austria frowned, "I'm not giving you an ice pack because you won't learn anything if I do." He said simply.

Prussia frowned, "Come on Roddy! Why the hell won't you? This really hurts, you know."

Austria stormed off, ignoring the Prussian's cries of pain. France sighed, answering in his stead, "Prussia, you tried to serenade England with Scorpion's music."

"So? They're fucking awesome!"

France sighed again, "Gilbert, you tried to play it on the recorder."

"So? That's the only instrument I could learn to play on such a short notice."

France sighed again, attempting to open his mouth to interject. Hungary put a hand up, stopping him. "Don't bother, Francis. No matter what you do, he'll never understand what he did wrong."

Spain sighed, "Even I'm not that clueless." He stated simply.

"Come on, guys! I did my best and I was awesome! England's just stupid and doesn't realize it." Prussia replied.

France just shook his head. "All right, Prussia, I have one last idea."

"Well then tell me what it is!" Prussia exclaimed.

France leaned over and whispered something in Prussia's ear, making sure to keep the details of their final plan as quiet as possible.

When he finished, Prussia's eyes went wide, "That is pure genius Francis! Why the hell didn't we do this to begin with?"

Hungary and Spain both just sighed, more than a little fed up with the Prussian's impulsivity.

"But if we're going to get this done," France began, "We need to go to get your human ID from Germany first."

"Fine, fine. Whatever it takes!" Prussia replied, pumping his fist into the air.

Spain and Hungary sighed again.

"France, what exactly did you suggest to Prussia?" Hungary asked, nudging the blond haired man.

France flicked his hair, looking ahead to make sure Prussia wasn't within hearing distance, "What I suggested won't work, there's a reason we're going to Germany's house." He explained, trying to casually slip an arm around Hungary's waist.

Hungary nudged it off, "What do you mean?"

France tried putting his arm around Hungary's waist again, "Do you honestly think Ludwig will let his brother do this without a fight?"

"Would you stop that?" Hungary asked, pulling out her frying pan in preparation.

France wisely pulled his hand away from the angry Hungarian's waist. "But you see what I mean, mon amie?"

Hungary sighed, seeing Germany's house finally. Almost immediately, Prussia bolted towards the door, flinging the door open and almost certainly damaging the paint job on the walls.

"I'm home bruder!" Prussia yelled. Hungary, France, and Spain all sighed almost simultaneously. "I need my human ID!"

Germany's sigh could've been heard all through Europe, "What do you need it for Gilbert? Should I even ask?"

"I'm going to get England tattooed on my chest! There's no way he'll be able to reject me then, right?" Germany was silent in response. Gilbert laughed, "I told you it was an awesome idea. Hey! Here's my ID! See you, Ludwig."

The last thing Hungary, Spain, and France heard was the sound of a large, male body collapsing onto the floor.

Prussia smirked as he saw his target in sight.

Because there was no way England would be able to resist him if he had England's name tattooed on him… Right?

Germany sighed, picking up the phone and dialing England's number desperately.

"Arthur Kirkland speaking."

"England, I need a favor." He explained, pacing back and forwards.

He could hear the Brit sigh over the phone, "What is it, Ludwig?"

Germany's face flushed bright red, "Please take my brother out on a date."

"This old thing again?" England sighed, "Listen, I know I was harsh before, but-"

"No, it isn't that." Germany replied, "He's going to get your name tattooed on him."

There was a pause on the other end of the phone, "Why do you care, anyways? Prussia does stupid stuff all the time."

Germany sighed, "Because he's not Prussia anymore, remember? He's East Germany, which is still a part of Germany. Whatever he does is going to show up on maps, and I don't want to explain this to my superior, lest we start up World War III." He finished.

England sighed, "You better give me a good deal on some imports for this."

"Will do. Thank you, England." Germany finished, hanging up the phone.

Prussia sat in the waiting area of the tattoo parlor, twiddling his thumbs nervously, even though that was totally unlike the normally awesome Prussian.

France had dealt with the tattoo artist, a beefy looking man with skull tattoos covering more than ninety percent of his visible skin. Of course, in stereotypical tattoo artist fashion, the remaining 10% of skin was covered by a giant 'Mom' tattoo. Why? Prussia himself wasn't too sure, especially since said 'Mom' tattoo was surrounded by a giant picture of snakes crawling out of a skull's eye.

Man, citizens were weird.

"Kay, Gilbert whatshisname, we're ready for you." The tattoo guy said in one of the most monotone voices Prussia had ever heard. Man, even Norway used more emotion when he talked, and that was saying something in the Prussian's opinion.

Seriously, Norway was a drag, and Prussia always wondered why Denmark kept staying around the Scandinavian nation. Denmark was reaching the awesome levels of England's ass, and Norway was more around the awesome level of Austria.

Prussia stood up, stretching and walking towards the back, France following close behind. Hungary and Spain chose to stay behind, and all Prussia could hear out of their conversation was "Lovino", "Drag", and "Whipped cream".

God his friends were weird sometimes. Ah, well, all that wouldn't matter as soon as he had a hot Brit to screw.

Prussia sat down in the tattoo artist's chair, removing his shirt as he did so and throwing it to the side. Getting 'England' tattooed over his heart… It was so fucking sappy, but Prussia was willing to sacrifice his dignity for the sake of love!

The tattoo artist sighed, "So, like, what am I doing for you?" He asked. Man, Norway and Austria could've taught this guy how to be enthusiastic. God, if the guy wasn't going to be jabbing needles into him Prussia would've totally given him a lesson in awesome.

"I want 'England' tattooed over my heart!" Prussia declared, pumping his fist in the air.

The unawesome tattoo artist barely blinked, "Kay." He said, picking up his needle and starting it.

"Wait!" France exclaimed suddenly.

The tattoo artist sighed, "…What is it?" He asked.

France sighed, looking anxiously towards the doorway for some reason, "Shouldn't we check out the different font styles first?" He asked.

"…Kay."

And thus they did look at the big book of font styles. For about thirty minutes. All while France kept asking really unnecessary questions and looking at the door a ton. Prussia sighed; he should've gotten this done on his own. The longer he waited, the less time he'd have feeling that rock hard ass and-

"Wait a second!" Hey, wasn't that England's voice? Prussia blinked; this could be even better than he hoped! That meant he wouldn't have to make another trip after this. England sighed, which Prussia noted people had been doing a lot lately, "Gilbert, what are you doing?"

Prussia gave a huge smirk, "I'm getting your name tattooed on my chest!"

England sighed again, muttering something about stupid Germans and how he'd regret this soon enough, "Gilbert, if I go on one date with you, will you stop this nonsense?" He asked.

Prussia thought about this for a second, before smirking. "Yes." He replied, grabbing the Englishman's hand and dragging him out of the tattoo parlor.

France wondered how long it would take for the duo to realize Prussia was still shirtless.

Step Five: Wherein the Prussian Succeeds Awesomely (Thanks to bad friends and fangirls… Germany helped a little too.)

"It's just one date." England insisted as Prussia took hold of his hand and dragged him into a fancy, Italian-looking restaurant.

"I know that." Prussia replied, giving an awesome smirk and tightening his grip on the Brit's hand.

England turned away, muttering something about 'stupid Frenchmen and Hungary owing him', but Prussia couldn't be bothered to listen.

…Besides, from this angle he could see the smallest of a smile on England's face.

A/N:

So this is for my friend Rachel in exchange for her drawing me Switzerland/Austria (Which she still owes me...)

Please leave a review if you enjoyed~