Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or any of its characters- if anything I think they own me -_-; I'm also not making any money off of this.

Austria bit his lower lip just a small bit as he hung back from the doorframe. It was just enough to see but not enough to be seen; he'd been caught enough times to know exactly where he needed to stand. His left hand held the molding on the door, fingers curled into the wood, toes curled in his socks. His shoes were far too noisy on the hardwood floor. He took a deep breath and dropped his eyes just when the the count inside reached twelve out of fifteen on the third set. That was when Prussia would strain the hardest. The second set he would attempt to out-lift Germany but by the last he was... extremely focused.

The last three grunts were the most noisy bordering on the obscene if one were to close his eyes and imagine Prussia in the deepest throes of- Not that Austria ever imagined such a thing with that lazy fool pulled the last set on the bench.

"Fourteen..." heave... grunt... pant the last lift above his shoulders. Austria's eyes fluttered open as he turned his head just enough to see again. "Fifteen..." Strained. The muscles were strain and in the black tank top sweat plastered to his chest, Prussia's head bowed, the weights practically thrown up with a half roar that made Austria's nails scrape against the stained wood with a quiet desperation. Germany finished the set with a masterful efficiency, ten pounds heavier on the weights just in time for Austria's eyes to dart rapidly between the two of them. Sloppy. You fool, you always push yourself and finish the last few so... messily."

Austria thought that the thermostat must be on he blink, his coat starting to feel far too warm. He swallowed a cough as Germany shook his head and walked behind Prussia, his thicker frame not entirely hidden.

"It's no good if you're throwing the weight up on the last few reps." Germany lectured and Austria nearly turned to leave when he saw large hands sliding down Prussia's arms. Oh my. "Here, your grip is forcing you to expend more energy how many times do I have to tell you-"

"Hey, West, if you got a problem with my grip then you can-"

"Pay attention. If you're not going to take this seriously then-"

"Christ, you're a fucking drill sergeant with this shit, I'm telling you-"

"Here." Austria wondered if Germany was in any way aware of the picture he made standing behind Prussia, face forward over his shoulder, close enough that the two of them intermingled to- Oh... oh... Austria swallowed again and turned his face half into the wall feeling the cool against his near feverish forehead. He half pressed against the doorframe stifled a whimper in the thick jacket fabric over his shoulder. He licked his lips not even listening to Germany's lecture only seeing one more the hands, the slightly spread legs, the sweat of both bodies if one were to.- Austria nearly slipped as he turned away, careful not to move too quickly lest he make that mistake a second time. He hadn't remembered the laundry basket if he were to be noticed and... and there was nothing to explain anyway. They ought to be thankful that I'm here to make sure they don't break anything. He nodded to himself making sure that his jacket was properly buttoned and... modest as he half ran to his piano, face hot and flushed. Thermostat... must have them look at that tomorrow.

And Prussia paused mid curl with a smirk on his face as the frazzled melody of the piano rang out from the other end of the house. Germany looked up as well, more embarrassed than satisfied.

"See, West, what'd I tell ya?" Germany shifted his eyes to the side, face pink all the way to the tips of his ears.

"Chopin's Scherzo No.2 Op. 31... I ah... you don't suppose it's just-" Prussia snickered as he set the weights back with a languid stretch.

"It's just four eyes banging on the piano 'cause he's too proper to bang one out in the bathroom like a normal-" Germany seemed to get even more flushed at that particular image and Prussia walked over to him laying a hand on his shoulder. "Two more minutes. Give him two more minutes and I say we go show him why it's rude to spy on people." Germany didn't answer immediately, only let out a frustrated breath as the song continued into explosivity.

"One minute," he said at last. Prussia only cackled in response.