Title: Caring

Rating: T

Pairings: FinPru/PruFin

Warnings: Angst, existential crisis of sorts, language

Summary: Why was Prussia still here? Why would anyone even care if he was here or not? And why would Finland care? Oneshot.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Himaruya Hidekaz. No money is being made and no copyright, trademark infringement is intended.

A/N: Written for Tumblr's Hetalia Rare Pair Week and because I've been shipping these two for ages already and they need a fic.

I wanted this to be cute, positive and fluffy but I was feeling down and most of that got channeled to Prussia. So all OOC-ness and angst can be blamed on that. At least I feel better.

The walls were brown.

Although he was pretty sure someone – cough Austria cough – would have been quick to call them beige or wheat or some other nonsensical shade that didn't even really matter. As far as he was concerned, the walls were fucking brown and everyone else could stuff their opinions somewhere where the sun didn't shine. Or take up interior decorating.

He was lying on the impersonal-feeling bed, staring either at the brown walls or the whitish ceiling, which he was willing to admit wasn't the whitest ceiling he had seen. And he had seen lots white ceilings in his time. The sheets felt stiff against his back, sterile and unwelcoming. Part of him wanted to shift and bunch them into a messy lump so they would loose some of that stiffness.

Another part of him felt too lethargic to move. And he didn't need to actually move; there was no one else in the room to put up a mask for. Westen had gone on to the conference and would probably go to a business dinner afterwards with France or Netherlands about the trade between them.

Prussia would have the whole room to himself for the entire evening.

'What am I even doing here?'

He had no duties, no country, no business being in a EU meeting or even in Brussels in the first place. Yet he came anyway, every time, just to hang out in the hotel room and maybe see his friends in the evenings.

Maybe because they actually had work most of the time.

He just felt so stupid for always trying, it wasn't like anyone actually needed him. He tried to tell himself he was useful, that Westen needed someone to kick him into taking a break sometimes, but if he was honest he had Italy for that. The Mediterraneans knew better than anyone else how to take a break and ignore their problems and work. Italy did a far better job at it than he ever had, if Prussia was being honest.

He was of absolutely no consequence to anyone and hadn't been since 1989. And no matter how much he tried to fool himself otherwise, he probably never would be. Would anyone even miss him if he disappeared? Probably not, he had noticed he mostly annoyed others with his presence. They would probably be thankful when he finally faded away; one more distraction gone.

He wasn't stupid enough to imagine that he would stay forever. He knew maybe better than others how inevitable the Fading of a Nation could be, having seen from an eerily close distance how Holy Rome, Livonia and Old Prussia had faded away. Everyone faded at some point, only to remain as a name on the pages of a history book, if even that. Old Prussia, whose name he had taken, was barely a footnote.

He was pretty sure he would get at least some passing mention there, about the army with a Nation times at least and as the one who built up the German Empire from the fallen ruins of the Holy Rome. And the Nazis were also his fault, according to the history books of the Allies at least. 'Prussian influences of superiority,' hah as if. The people who wrote those books knew nothing about his greatness. Hadn't he been among the first ones to allow freedom of religion?

But none of that really mattered now, in the 21st century. He was a remnant of bygone times who probably should have faded away already. But the Ostalgia still lingered, as well as the last Prussians from before he was dissolved. Those were few and far between but sometimes when their thoughts strayed, Prussia found himself feeling younger and the fear of that feeling disappearing kept him awake at night. Ostalgia wasn't as pleasant but it kept him going, kind of like stale beer from a bad crop. And when the last citizens of DDR died, he would probably fade with them at the latest.

It would probably be for the better, all things considered. It was not like he was actually doing anything except, apparently, cause trouble and disturbance. Sometimes he actually considered just withdrawing completely and then when he finally actually faded, everyone would already be used to it and life would go on as normal; undisturbed except for the politics and trading and all the other myriad of problems Nations had to deal with everyday.

'I really shouldn't have come.' Prussia rolled to his side on the bed, staring at the long, dark brown curtains that almost touched the disgusting carpeting that covered the entire hotel room floor.

He had thought that getting out of his room at Westen's house in Berlin would have helped, kept him away from the darker recesses of his mind. His strategy had however failed, because at least there he had a computer, playing consoles, books and movies to keep him occupied. This hotel room had all the necessities for actually sleeping here for a few days but nothing that would actually hold anyone's attention worth shit. It would have been fine if he had had something to do in Brussels.

But he didn't.

Sure, there were plenty of places he could visit and see, but he had already seen them so many times. And always alone, except for those first few meetings after the reunification when Westen had probably been just humouring him. Decades of separation and a new political system and all that jazz.

Prussia rolled back to his back, to stare up at the whitish ceiling with sightless eyes. Yeah, he really should have stayed at home.

A quiet but sharp knock on the door dragged him back from his reverie. He stared at the door for a moment, before rolling off the bed and onto his feet in a smooth movement. Who could it be? As far as he was aware, Westen would be back at nine at the earliest and he wouldn't knock for so long, he had a key card and could get in easily. No one should be knocking on their hotel room door at seven in the evening.

At the door Prussia hesitated for a moment, before pulling a disgruntled look onto his face and messing up his hair and wrinkling his shirt just a bit more. Maybe pretending that he had been sleeping would explain his less than boisterous attitude.

"Was?" he fake-yawned dramatically, rubbing his eyes to hopefully hide that he had actually been wide-awake. "I was having an awesome dream."

"Sorry, did I wake you?" the voice was warm and apologetic and had Prussia peering from behind his arm down at Finland. The Nordic Nation was still dressed in his dark blue suit from the meeting – 'Probably came straight here but why?' – and he was carrying paper bag with a Chinese logo on it, which smelled of food. Finland shifted uncomfortably and Prussia's gaze rose from the takeaway bag to meet the other's violet eyes. The blond's face was lightly flushed and he seemed to be studying the wall of the corridor with great intensity and Prussia realised the bag had been really close to Finland's crotch.

Well that was awkward.

He cleared his throat, "Yeah, but it's okay, I was feeling hungry anyway." A bit of probing; was the food for him and if not, why was Finland at his door. And a smooth avoidance of the accidental crotch staring (not that it wasn't a very nice crotch, he had ahem, accidentally groped a feel back in 1915 during a spar).

Finland seemed to relax, his previously tense shoulders easing a bit. "That's good, Germany said he would take a while to come back so..." the flush seemed to return with vengeance and he raised the takeaway back as a sort of peace offering, "I though I could offer you some company?"

Prussia didn't even hesitate, he never said no to food or good company. "Sure, come in." He opened the door wider and hid gaze fell on the beds, neither of which were actually messed up. Finland would hopefully think he had slept on top of the coverlet.

They sat on Prussia's bed, the other Nation taking of his jacket and opening up the bag, pulling out two containers and two beers. Of course it was a Belgian brand but Liefmans was pretty good all things considered.

"Thanks," he said with grin, fumbling a bottle opener from his pocket. "West would probably have brought water because he's boring like that."

Finland snorted and took the bottle opener. "I doubt it, today was pretty crazy and England is probably getting completely hammered before tomorrow."

"Hungover England shouting at France is always good fun," Prussia laughed in agreement, "He's so much more creative with his insults, especially love the one time he called France 'a fetid frog-faced wankstain'."

"I'll toast to that," Finland raised his bottle jauntily. "What about the time he called France 'a cheese for brains wanker who should be strung up by his foreskin from the Eiffel Tower'?"

Prussia snickered. "Or what about; 'a stink-arsed cockwombling tosser'?"

"Please, let's not go there," Finland grinned, handing him one of the containers, "we still need to eat."

"Spoil-sport," Prussia grumbled good-naturedly but took the food. He was feeling loads better already, just with someone here for company. He couldn't dwell on his darker thoughts and Finland made for extremely good company as he knew from experience. They had known each other for a long time and Finland had been one of the few western-ish Nations he had been in frequent contact with through his DDR days. Really, the Nordic had been a bit of a western breeze for most of them, up to and including Russia himself.

"Just sensible," Finland corrected, "some of us like to eat without thinking about France and his... anatomy." He gave a dramatic shudder.

"Still bitter about his culinary commentary?" Prussia asked with a grin.

Finland flushed and shoveled more roast pork into his mouth. Prussia himself didn't think it was that bad (except for some dishes he had encountered only through the wonders of internet) but especially Italy and France absolutely detested Finland's food. Probably the reason why he pulled that Berlusconi Pizza stunt a few years back.

Their discussion evolved into their recent going-ons; Prussia's new record in Call of Duty and the cute dogs of the family who moved a month ago to their street, Finland's complaints about the weather and cheerful gushing of ice hockey and their shared interest in metal music.

"What plans do you have for the week?" Finland finally asked, turning the topic away from food.

Prussia was momentarily struck dumb; he didn't have plans and he should have known that Finland would ask. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Oh this and that," he said trying to affect an air of nonchalance and excitement at the same time, "Loads of awesome stuff while you lot sit in the meetings."

Finland's expression was dubious but he didn't question it, which Prussia was thankful for. "That's good, but I was thinking..." Finland hesitated and the other Nation felt his curiosity peak, "I would really like to take a break from the work in the evenings so I was wondering if you could maybehangoutwithme?"

The dingy hotel room was quiet as Prussia stared at the furiously blushing Nation straight in the eyes. While his speech had picked up at the end and he was clearly embarrassed, Finland wasn't looking away. Violet eyes met Prussia's dead on, challenging but uncertain.

Prussia felt blood rushing to his own pale cheeks.

'This shouldn't be so embarrassing,' he thought weakly, 'Just hanging out with friends shouldn't cause this reaction.'

But it had and they were both blushing like crazy, not saying anything. For the first time Prussia found himself taking Finland in properly; the wheat-coloured hair, intense eyes, the round face, and he remembered the strong body and the strength of will that could hold even Russia at bay. Finland, who rose from centuries of servitude into a Nation of his own right, bright and shining.

If Finland had to be described in two words, they would be unwavering determination.

And, if the blush was any indication, he was interested in Prussia. And who wouldn't be? He was an awesome catch; good-looking, strong, funny, smart, great company, great tactician, totally awesome, strong Nat–

Except he wasn't. He wasn't a Nation anymore, he was West's brother, the former Prussia, the nuisance who thought too much of himself. 'Why would Finland be interested in him?'

Then Finland's eyes lowered slowly, as if in defeat and his hold of the chopsticks tightened momentarily before relaxing.

"It's okay if you're busy," he said looking up and Prussia actually felt like flinching. His mouth was smiling but his eyes were defeated and he didn't think he had ever seen that look on Finland. Even during the Paris Peace Treaty he had stood tall and grim as heavy war reparations were imposed on him. While he had been defeated in war, his spirit had still burned as strongly as ever, determined.

"Well, have fun this week," Finland continued in a more up-beat tone as he started gathering his empty bottle and takeaway container, clearly in a hurry to leave. His white shirt was slightly wrinkled as he went to pull his jacket back on. "I'll just go to my room and read over some of the documents for tomorrow, see you arou–"

He was stopped by the other Nation's hand clutching his sleeve. Surprised gaze met Prussia's and he felt himself blushing (he was probably completely red with his complexion, sometimes he really hated his white skin…) but didn't let go.

The silence hung in the air, heavy and awkward as Prussia tried to gather his thoughts beyond 'don't leave.' He cleared his throat nervously.

"Was that you asking me out on a date?" he finally managed to get out. He wanted to confirm he had understood right and maybe a reason because he really couldn't fathom why –

"Yes," Finland's answer was a mere whisper and he licked his lips, not looking away from Prussia's conflicted face. His eyes wavered as words seemed to fall from his mouth almost without meaning to; "We've known each other for centuries and been friends for over a century and you helped me so much when I wanted to become independent and," Finland's breath caught in his throat, "and I care for you. I don't even know how it happened just… You're fun, caring, smart, nice, maybe a bit over-zealous and arrogant (okay a lot arrogant) but I like you. I just–"

'None of those reasons have anything to do with me being a Nation.' He couldn't even hear Finland anymore as that one thought pierced through his brain like a ray of sunlight. There was absolutely nothing political here, this was all about Finland's actual feelings and that left him feeling warm in a way he hadn't felt since West had hugged him when he was knee-high and told Prussia he loved him.

His eyes focused back on Finland, who had again taken to staring at his toes, his face red. Knowing that someone valued him as a person was a new experience and he liked it but; how did he feel about Finland? He was certainly nice (far nicer than Prussia certainly), fun, caring (and good-looking, more in an adorable than hot way but that might just be the amount of clothes he was wearing…) and they had been friends for over a century.

Prussia flushed and cleared his throat, "We could… uhhh… try it out?"

The smile that came to Finland's face was astonished and shy but happy as he met Prussia's eyes again. "O-okei," he said, his voice gaining more strength. "I'll… pick you up tomorrow at seven?" he offered and Prussia found himself nodding. "It's just a dinner so nothing too fancy–"

"Can I kiss you?"

The words had slipped out before Prussia's brain could filter them but strangely, he didn't actually regret them. Finland had taken the first step in actually asking and he totally deserved a reward for it, no matter how this thing turned out. If the date was bad, kissing might be a wrong way to end it so better get it away before anything could potentially go wrong. And maybe Prussia would get some of his assertiveness back, he was feeling a bit too passive at being asked out.

He had never been asked out; he had been the one doing the asking.

Finland's face was positively crimson but he seemed flattered by the question. "Of course," he had regained most of his equilibrium and his eyes were smiling again which Prussia was thankful for.

He pulled the shorter Nation to lean down, angling his own head to meet Finland's chapped lips. His own lips were just as dry but it was an okay kiss, searching and experimental, soft and uncertain.

Not a very good reward though.

Prussia nipped experimentally at Finland's lower lip, and he actually gasped in surprise, his mouth falling open and Prussia took his chance. His tongue delved into Finland's mouth, tasting the beer, pork and vegetables, as well as something distinctly wintery he couldn't put his mind on. He felt Finland's hand on his neck, as the shorter Nation slotted their mouths closer together, his tongue tickling Prussia's teasingly.

Prussia pulled away slowly, feeling a bit breathless and flushed. Finland's lips seemed to be slightly bruised as he smiled down to Prussia. "Tomorrow at seven, Preussi," he said then, brushing a soft kiss on his forehead and pulling away. "Afterwards, you can tell me what was really bothering you, if you want to."

Violet eyes met red and the times seemed to stand still around them.

"...Okay," Prussia found himself answering and Finland smiled brightly like the sun, before he disappeared out of the door.

Language and Historical notes:

Westen: West (duh)

Livonia: the area that comprised Latvia and southern Estonia; I think in Hetalia terms he was probably either Latvia's or Estonia's older brother. Livonian Order was also at one point part of the Teutonic Order. Livonian language was declared extinct in 2013.

Old Prussia: Baltic people who spoke Prussian and lived somewhere around the border or Lithuania and Poland (Kaliningrad area) but they were assimilated to the Teutonic Order and other local peoples during the Middle Ages.

Hitler really liked Prussian military efficiency.

Ostalgia: nostalgia felt towards DDR, Ost(en) means East.

1915: Royal Prussian Jäger Battalion nr 27 in WWI was comprised of Finnish volunteers who were there to be trained to form the core of the Finnish Army when they eventually (1917) became independent from Russia.

Soviet-Russia was Finland's most important trade partner for most of the Cold War.

According to some French Prime Minister, Finnish food is the second worst after British.

Paris Peace Treaty: Finland was classed as an ally to Nazi Germany.

Also, even if Prussia hasn't seen Finland spiritually defeated, it has happened.

Preussi: Prussia

A/N: Most awkward confession ever josbfeuwsuof I'm sorry. Someone else can maybe write it better.

And I've never eaten Chinese takeaway or drunk Belgian beer. Also, 'a fetid frog-faced wankstain' is probably the most British sounding insult I've ever come up with.