Finally, I managed to finish the first chapter! It took me almost a month to write it, there was always something else to do. I really put my effort in making this as good as it can be and I hope you will enjoy it ^^

Main parings for this story will be: Prussia/Poland, Austria/Hungary, Germany/Italy, US/UK and some more but if I told you now it would be a spoiler

Warnings: swearing, sexual situations, bad jokes, bad sex jokes, Prussia

Hetalia is not mine.

Flatmates

1. Beer Is The Best Solution

Ludwig as silently as he could pulled the keys out of his pocket and slowly opened the door. It was the middle of the night and he didn't want to disturb his brother's sleep. It wasn't that he cared about Gilbert's wellbeing that much – he just didn't want to deal with him at the moment. He wasn't lucky though. The second he closed the door, Ludwig heard a voice from the kitchen.

'Bruder!' And a happy Gilbert appeared in front of him. 'Come to the kitchen, I have beer prepared. You must tell me everything. I want spicy details! What did he said? Did you two fuck?' he showered him with questions.

Ludwig just sighed tiredly. Trust his brother to stick his nose in others business. Especially into serious matter like the one he had just completed. It was very exhausting, both physically and emotionally. He had to summon all the courage and willpower he possessed to do it. Nevertheless, it was all over now and he could sleep peacefully...

'Tell me, tell me! Did you have sweet, long love – making or did you just pound him into the mattress? Because I just know you two did it – you smell like it!'

... Or maybe not.

'I did it, I proposed to him.' Ludwig just said simply, hoping that it would satisfy his brother. It didn't – it was Gilbert – The – Big - Voyeur after all.

'And?' the older of German brothers asked impatiently.

'And he agreed.' Really, what did Gilbert expect? It was just a talk and a dinner, nothing more, nothing less. No sex or "spicy details". Simple question and simple answer. (Okay, maybe the answer wasn't that simple, but it was from Feliciano after all. Nothing was simple with him.)

'Geez, Bruder. So fucking talkative. Tell me more! What was his exact reaction? I should know things like that, I'm your older brother!' Gilbert frowned at him disapprovingly and Ludwig sighed deeply once more. The faster he gave him what he wanted, the faster he would be able to go to sleep.

'We ate dinner at his house, he made pasta. Then we drank some wine. I kneeled and gave him the ring. He liked it. And the size was good, you were wrong about that.' There, he said it. Time to sleep now.

'You're so full of details, West.' Did he hear sarcasm in that one? No, he must have been hearing things, he was just sleepy. 'About the size – I thought he would have thicker fingers, from all the pasta he eats. But it's you he's giving handjobs to, so you know better.' Ludwig massaged his temples. The headache was building in the base of his skull. He wanted to go to sleep not talk with his brother about handjobs he was getting from his lover. That sounded so wrong even in his hazed mind.

'What did he say about the fact that there was tomato on the ring?' His brother wasn't giving up in demanding answers from him.

'I told you already – he liked it. He promised to make me one with Wurst on it.' Gilbert snorted and then patted him on the back. Hard. Oh yeah, he needed the coughing fit for the night to be complete. Ludwig glared at his brother but his eyes softened when he saw the expression on Gilbert's face. He was looking at him warmly and happily, like really proud older brother. He smiled slightly at him. He knew, that when he left the home earlier, Gilbert was more nervous about the whole thing than him. It's not everyday that one's younger brother proposes to his lover and gets a positive reply.

'I'm happy for you, West.'

'I know, East.' They used their old nicknames from childhood, which made them both smile a little wider.

'I'm going to sleep.' Announced Ludwig. 'I'm exhausted.'

'No wonder, you look like shit.' Gilbert stated this a little too matter – of – factly for Ludwigs liking. 'He must have worn you out. I can imagine the wild sex you two had after he agreed to become Mr. Feliciano Weillschmidt.' He had disturbing, voyeuristic smile on his face – the one he always had when he was imagining Roderich with Elizaveta. Ludwig groaned.

'Please, stop with the mental images. You shouldn't think that things about your younger brother.'

Gilbert chuckled and ruffled his hair (he had to stand on his toes to do that).

'Don't worry, gays don't turn me on. I don't jerk off thinking about you.' Ludwig was so sure he would have problems with sleeping that night. 'I do it while thinking about...'

'Gilbert!' It came out more like the pitful whine than scolding but he didn't care.

The smirk on his brothers face was so big that it almost split his head in two halves.

'Okay, okay, I'm not telling you.'

'Thank God.' Muttered the younger of them. 'Good night then.'

'Night. Sleep well and have wet, hot dreams. They can be about me.' Gilbert was laughing his head off as he entered his room and closed the door.

Ludwig started to open his door but suddenly he froze. His eyes widened. He forgot!

'Shit.'

He felt that his brother wouldn't like what he had to tell him. The headache hit him with a full force and Ludwig decided to postpone all discussions for later. He had a sinking feeling that it will be very unpleasant conversation.

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Gilbert woke up to the sound of bottles with beer being placed on the table. He yawned loudly and looked at the clock. It was eight in the morning. With a sigh he buried his face in the pillow. It was still too early for him to get up, he wasn't his pathetic brother with no social life (he ignored the fact that he himself was alone, with no job and kicked out from the university for not attending the lectures). He was about to fall asleep once again when the door opened and cheerful Ludwig entered the room. Well, as cheerful as he could get, which meant wearing pink apron and having a scowl on his face – it would be adorable if Gilbert wasn't pissed off for being woken up at this ungodly hour.

'Get out, you fucker!' he managed to grumble hatefully and glared. It wasn't very effective.

'Good morning to you too. The breakfast is waiting for you. I'm waiting too, I have something important to tell you which I forgot yesterday.' He sounded a little too stiff and it instantly made Gilbert suspicious. His brother was up to something. Knowing life and his own damn luck, it would be something very unpleasant.

'This beer better be good or I'm kicking your ass for waking me up so early.' He said to Ludwig and sat on the bed. The younger looked at him intently for one short moment and then left the room. Gilbert frowned. Something was wrong, but he couldn't quite grasp what was it. He had that nagging feeling in his head telling him to brace himself and prepare for the worst.

He dressed up and went to the kitchen. Mashed eggs were waiting for him on the table, along with four bottles of his favourite beer. It shouldn't be like this but he was almost scared now. Ludwig never was that nice to him. Of course, they had their "brotherly" moments and helped each other, nevertheless they never were really affectionate towards one another. So his favourite beer on the table at 8 a.m. was a little disturbing sight.

'You're going to eat this or what? You have been staring at this eggs for more than five minutes now.' He heard Ludwig's irritated voice.

Gilbert almost asked him what the hell was wrong with him but bit his tongue. That could wait, breakfast first. All problems could be solved with full stomach. He sat without a word and quickly swallowed what was on his plate. Then he drank beer. After one bottle he straightened his back and looked at Ludwig, who had been observing him the whole time he ate.

'Ok, Bruder. What is wrong?'

Ludwig actually looked surprised. And maybe a little scared. That confirmed Gilbert's suspicions that there was something going on.

'Who said there was anything wrong?' He asked nervously, trying to hide his anxiety and failing miserably. Gilbert snorted.

'You're so nervous that you can hardly breathe and you're staring at me like I was some rapist ready to bend you over this table and pour all that beer on you.' Ludwig sighed – his brother and his metaphors, he seriously was the biggest pervert he knew.

'I'm certainly not looking at you like that.' Gilbert looked unconvinced, which made him shake his head. 'But that is not the matter. Yesterday I forgot to tell you something important.'

'Sure you forgot!' shouted the older of brothers suddenly, startling Ludwig. 'You never told me what is the date of the wedding!'

'We didn't talk about it yet... Wait, East! Stop talking, you're getting me off the track.'

'You're getting off it yourself...' Gilbert grumbled but the glare from the younger Weillschmidt made him shut up.

'So, after the proposal I had serious talk with Feliciano and we agreed on very important matter.' He paused shortly to take a deep breath and continued 'We decided that he will move here and we will be living together here, in this house.'

Silence fell upon them. Then Gilbert chuckled.

'So that is that super serious matter that you were afraid of telling me? You needn't have worried Bruder! I have nothing against Feliciano, actually I like him. I don't mind him living with us before the wedding and certainly after it.'

Ludwig slowly shook his head. There was a worried expression on his face.

'That's not it, East. When Feliciano moves here I want to live with him and only with him. It would be awkward if we crowded here together.'

'Wait, wait, wait. You didn't just suggest that I have to move from this house. You can't be serious...' One look at his brothers face told him that Ludwig wasn't joking. 'I can't believe you... You're kicking me out of our home? Your older brother who was always with you and never abandoned you?'

'Gilbert, don't say that, it's not like that...' he was cut short when Gilbert stood violently, making the chair fall on the floor.

'Shut up, West! You fucker, after all I did for you... Is this what I get for being good older brother? You're kicking me on the street! Who I've been living under the same roof with?!'

'East, stop making a drama, please. It's not that bad as it looks...'

'It isn't? Oh, it certainly is! Where I'm gonna live, huh? I don't have work, how will I pay for the flat?'

'Calm down and let me finish...'

'No, Ludwig. I don't want to hear anything from you. Don't say anything to me. I hate you right now.'

After this rather dramatic display Gilbert turned around and left the kitchen. His brother immediately went after him. The silver haired one put a jacket on and grabbed his cell phone from the desk in his room. Then he made his way to the front door, his eyes carefully avoiding looking at his brother.

'Bruder, don't be like that and hear me out.' Ludwig tried once again.

He got no answer to this. Gilbert quickly laced his shoes and left the house, slamming the door after him and not sparing his younger brother even one look.

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He strode quickly down the street. People, who were walking to the church on a weekly mass, jumped out of his way in fear. He was muttering obscenities under his nose, which got him scandalized glances from few passerbys. Gilbert paid no attention to them. He needed something, or better, someone to take his anger on. He didn't deal with stressful situations very well by himself. He tended to get drunk then and cause disturbances to unfortunate souls who were unlucky to be in his presence. That was why he never went drinking alone.

Gilbert quickly made up his mind and decided that he had to consult his best friend in that situation. Surely, he will understand and console him. That was what friends were for.

Roderich's flat was not that far from where he was at that moment so in ten minutes Gilbert was standing in front of Edelstein's door. He knocked impatiently then ringed the doorbell. What was taking him so long to open?

Finally, the door opened.

'Great, how long can I... Jesus Christ! Have you no shame? Cover your ugly body, woman!'

Elizaveta stood in the door in her green, fluffy bathrobe with her hair messed from the sleep. She looked very unimpressed.

'It's you.' She deadpanned and made an annoyed face. 'What the hell do you want, idiot? It's Sunday and it's 9 in the morning. You better have some good excuse because you woke me up.' Maybe it was just him but she was looking more and more dangerous. The sleepy aura around her made her even more intimidating. Gilbert shivered inside and fought the urge to gulp loudly. Instead of that he gave her his best, trademark smirk.

'I'm not here for you, you know? I'd rather not talk with you at all, this ugliness may be contagious. Call your wimpy husband, right now.'

Elizaveta simply raised her eyebrow at him.

'Oi, woman. I know, I'm that awesome so stop staring and devouring me with this bulging eyes of yours. Get me Roderich, pronto.'

'You know that if you keep this shit up I'll kick your ass and hit you in the balls. Hard.'

For the moment they fought with their glares but Gilbert quickly capitulated. He had never managed to win with her, whatever they were competing in, especially when it was a staring competition. Her eyes were just too big, bright and green. That was too distracting.

Elizaveta smirked, acknowledging his lose and opened the door wider to let him in. Then she went to the bedroom to wake up her husband. Gilbert instantly made himself at home. He grabbed a can of beer from the fridge (it had to be Elizaveta's, that pussy pianist would never drink something vulgar like this) and threw himself on the couch in the living room. He put his legs on the table and listened to the voices from the bedroom.

'Roderich, wake up. That idiot is here.' Her only answer was some inarticulate mumbling. 'Roderich, honey, wake up.'

Gilbert snickered. "Honey", seriously. They were so sappy, he sometimes wanted to throw up just from watching them.

'What is it, Elizaveta? I told you not to wake me up early today.'

'I know but the asshole came here to see you. It seems rather important.'

'Asshole?'

'You know, that albino voyeur.' Hearing this, Gilbert made a mental note to insult her later. His manly pride didn't let him hit women or throw anything at them. At least for now.

'Oh, you mean Weillschmidt.' Roderich groaned. What an unpleasant way to start a morning. He hoped for a silent, peaceful day with his young wife but, of course, life turned out to be a bitch and sent him Gilbert, his so called best friend. ' Send him home, I don't want to see him.'

'I can hear you!' shouted Gilbert from the other room. The pianist just sighed tiredly and rubbed his eyes before slowly making his way out of the bed.

Roderich went to the living room, Elizaveta closely following him. They frowned simultaneously at Gilbert, who still had his legs on the table.

'Good morning sleeping beauty.' The silver haired one snickered at his friend. 'Or maybe not beauty, your morning look is horrible. You two must have nightmares every night if you sleep together.'

'What do you want, Weillschmidt?' Roderich pretended not to hear that, for many years that he had known Gilbert, he learnt not to start arguments with him. They were making his brain cells die few times quicker than Elizaveta's fangirling over gay relationships.

'Oh, nothing. I just came to visit my dear friend. And maybe annoy the hell out of you. Aren't you happy?' How he could sound so proud of himself while saying this, Roderich would never understand.

It was Elizaveta who answered him.

'We're not happy, bastard. Get your dirty shoes from my table right now, I cleaned it yesterday.' Gilbert quickly obeyed her. Even he wasn't that stupid to play with her when she got into the "harpy mode", as he liked to call it.

'Ok, now tell us what happened.' Demanded the female. He made an innocent face.

'Nothing happened. I just came to visit you, or more specifically, Roderich.'

'Yeah, right. At 9 a.m. on Sunday.' She wasn't convinced at all. 'I can clearly see that something is wrong so the quicker you tell us, the better.'

'I never knew you cared...' he pretended to be touched and rubbed off the fake tear from his eye.

'Gilbert.' Roderich finally decided to stop their bickering. He knew from experience that they could go like this for hours without breaks. 'I also can tell that something is bothering you and you are just hiding it behind your pathetic jokes. So tell us already what is going on, you moron.'

Weillschmidt fell silent after that. It wasn't as if he didn't want them to know – he came here to tell them after all. But what he needed now was a consolation and he knew there was little likelihood that he would get it from them. Their friendship was based on constant quarrels, insults and making fun of each other not on kind words and hugs when shit happened. And he was in that kind of situation right now.

'Hey, Gilbo.' Apparently, that was the closest to saying his name Elizaveta could get. 'What's wrong? You're not yourself today. Something happened with Ludwig? Oh no...' Her eyes widened in fear. 'It couldn't be that Feliciano...'

'No, no, no!' He quickly shook his head. How could he forget – she and that little Italian were friends for very long time. It was certain that she knew that Ludwig was going to propose the day before.

Just thinking about that decision and its consequences made him grit his teeth in anger.

'Feliciano said yes, apparently.' He ignored the loud squeal that escaped Elizaveta's mouth. 'But it's because of it that I'm here.'

'What do you mean? You're jealous or what?'

'Hell no.' He made disgusted face. 'My wonderful bro decided that he needs the whole house for him and his future husband and he wants me to move out. Shortly – he kicks me out of our house.' He couldn't help but sound bitter while saying it.

His words didn't have the effect he was hoping for. Both Elizaveta and Roderich looked at him strangely.

'You're surprised?' Asked finally Edelstein. 'It was obvious that they would want to live together when they get married, without someone behind their door. You should understand him. But on the other hand, you never were in a real relationship before, so how would you know?'

Gilbert opened his mouth to retort angrily but he caught Elizaveta's warning look. He stopped himself before he said something he would regret later.

'Look, experience aside, you really should know that your brother would want privacy in his marriage.' His female friend calmly explained to him. 'You're not the most discreet person to live with and you know this. Don't make such a big drama from it.'

'But I have nowhere to go!' Gilbert whined like a spoilt child. 'I have no job and no real money. How can I find a place to live?'

'You really are a moron.' This time it was Roderich who said it. 'You really think your brother would leave you without any support? I know Ludwig, he's not like that. More likely, he planned to pay for the flat you will rent. Or he will just buy you one.'

'I know.' Mumbled Gilbert. 'Ludwig is great brother and all. But I don't want to move away from him. I want to stay with them.'

'Grow up, Gilbo. Sometimes it doesn't matter what you want. Life isn't easy and the faster you learn it, the better for you. Find yourself a flat or someone who will rent you a room or something. Start thinking for yourself, you're an adult. Be responsible.' Elizaveta said something Ludwig was repeating over and over for a few months.

So much for a consolation.

They were right, though. He was an adult, with no college, no job and recently no place to live. Maybe it was time for him to change his life? All his friends did it after all. He was the only one who was left behind. Teenager at the age of 24. It didn't help that he was scared of adulthood. It meant being responsible and leading a normal and composed life. Gilbert didn't like that concept at all.

'I'm going to make some breakfast.' Announced Elizaveta. 'Want some?' She asked the guest and he was happy to accept.

Problems were better solved with full stomach, right?

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Half of the day had passed until he left Roderich and Elizaveta's house. He didn't even realize that he had spent so much time with them doing really nothing, just talking and bickering. It was almost... fun. He managed to annoy Elizaveta so much that she had chased him with her frying pan and threatened to cut off his balls. At the same time Roderich started playing Chopin to express his anger. They both stopped running around the house and made fun of the pianist. At least he made fun, the Hungarian female stared admiringly at her husband.

He also made some new photos to his private collection but that was a secret. He was sure that if any of his friends knew that he had albums with photographs he had made when they were not looking, they would stop talking to him. Of course after beating him to the bloody pulp.

Elizaveta kicked him out of their house after the dinner. She told him to come back home and make up with Ludwig. He knew she was concerned about him because she even offered to talk to someone who had a room to rent. He just laughed at her but they both knew that it was his way of saying thank you.

Gilbert couldn't help but notice how happy she was with Roderich. On the surface they didn't match at all – he was an artist, aristocrate, always so formal, high and mighty and she had the weirdest kinks, swore very often, watched gay porn secretly and wished she was a man. Two people from different social class and somehow they made their marriage work pretty well. The small gestures they exchanged between each other were the only public signs of their love but his trained eyes caught them all. The way she ruffled his hair affectionately or the short moment when he hugged her from behind when she was making a dinner, made Gilbert wonder what it would be like to be in a relationship like that. He couldn't help but feel a little jealous. It could have been him...

Dude, stop that. He told himself. It was long ago and not true, stop wishing for something impossible. Don't turn into some bitter loser who had just one chance in his lifetime and lost it. I'm gilbotastic, I can have anyone!

He was good in cheering himself up at least.

Gilbert looked at his watch. It showed him that it was already 5 p.m. He thought for a moment. Coming back home and discussing things with Ludwig wasn't really tempting prospect. Even though, he knew he had to do this, he intended to put off the talk as long as he could.

So what was to do for a lonely guy on the Sunday afternoon in the city like this?

He pulled his cell phone from the pocket and grinned. His fingers quickly dialled well – known number. He had to wait for a moment for someone to pick up.

'Yes?' the voice answered after the third signal.

'Yo, fag.' Gilbert was grinning now. Group of teenagers that was passing by him shot him strange looks.

'Oh, it's you. What do you want, bastard? I was just in the middle of mind – blowing sex with three hot Asian babes.'

'Yeah right, more like with three muscular Russians. Your voice doesn't sound like it.'

'Why do you know how my sex voice sounds is beyond me...'

'I know important things like that, I may need to use it against you. Anyway, listen old man. I'm in a shitty mood right now and I want you to come and drink with me. The same place as always. I'll be waiting here. And take Antonio with you.'

'Why do you only insult me and not him?'

'Coz he's so much cuter than you, beardie.'

'... And you're trying to convince me that you're not gay.'

'Fuck off. Get your ass to the bar, quickly. Or I'm starting without you.'

'Right, right. Well, see you soon, mon ami.'

The call ended. Gilbert looked at his phone with a smug expression. Then he made his way to their favourite bar. He might as well drink one beer alone.

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'... and then he was all like: "You have to move out Gilbert, because you'll be a nuisance to our lovey – dovey life and I don't need you anymore". That bastard of a younger brother.' Weillschmidt finished telling his friends what had happened that morning and downed his third beer. He was feeling much better now than just a few hours ago. Ah, the blessed effects of alcohol in his veins.

Francis Bonnefoy, the tall, handsome, long haired blonde with short beard, snorted at him.

'You're surprised? Everyone knows that you're the biggest voyeur ever. I just can't imagine your brother enjoying being watched by you when he has sex with Feliciano. That would be extremely awkward for him.'

'Jesus, why everyone take me for bigger pervert than you?!' Gilbert shouted angrily and spilled some beer from his bottle. 'I would never watch my brother having sex. That's sick. And he is homo – I hate homos. They're fucking strange.'

'Hypocrite.' Muttered Antonio Carriedo, the Spanish male, who remained silent till that moment. He sat with his nose in the glass of alcohol, looking more annoyed and gloomy than Gilbert. It was very unusual sight as it was him who among the three of them always stayed calm and cheerful, no matter what the situation was.

'I'm not fucking hypocrite, Latino fag. Anyway, what happened to you? That gloomy aura around you is creepy and not like you at all. I can almost see something black coming out from you.'

Antonio just grumbled something into his glass and downed it. It was Francis who told him what was wrong with their friend. The French grabbed Gilbert and whispered into his ear:

'He got rejected by that little Vargas again. This time he tried to give him a bunch of tomatoes as a flowers. Little Lovino was furious.' Bonnefoy chuckled and took another gulp of his beer.

'He threw these tomatoes in his face, didn't he?' There was an inappropriate excitement in Gilbert's voice when he asked that question. Oh, the juicy, fresh gossip – a remedy for his bad mood. How he loved hearing news like this.

'Yes, he threw them in my face. And then shut the door. Very hard. They almost fell from their hinges.' The Spaniard was not getting any better – in fact he seemed to get even more angry. He quickly drank what was left in his glass and opened another bottle of beer.

'Wow, that's something new.' Noted Francis. 'Earlier he just shouted curses at you and occasionally punched you. But throwing tomatoes? That guy has issues, I tell you.' The Frenchman pointed his index finger in the air and made wise face. Antonio threw a squeezed tissue at him.

'Guys, seriously, we have more important problem here, concerning, duh, me.' The German reminded them of his presence.

'And why are is your problem so important? This miserable soul over there has unrequited love and the object of this love is pretty much fucked up.' Bonnefoy motioned towards Antonio, who was downing his fourth beer this evening with scary speed.

'It concerns me, of course it's important! I'm too awesome to be kicked out of my home! By younger brother too. Of course being alone is awesome too, I think I'll cry from joy when I think that I'll be living alone. But the awesome me doesn't get kicked out. No!' He put his bottle on the table with such force that the glass cracked and beer started leaking from it. By the looks of it, he was getting smashed up pretty quickly.

That left Francis to take up the role of the responsible one and take care of the other two. Not good.

'You used the word "awesome" three times in a row. Find another adjective to describe yourself coz you're becoming predictable.'

'Shut your fucking, French mouth.' Grumbled Gilbert.

They sat for a moment in silence, each one drinking his own beer. Antonio was breaking his records that night, it was obvious that he was the first one to end up under the table. Not that any of them cared. They were used to it, though it was usually Gilbert's role to be a drunk everyone made fun of.

Suddenly, Weillschmidt looked as if the lightning of brilliance struck him. Francis groaned. He had a feeling that it was not a good idea, whatever it was.

'I know! I will move in with one of you!' He looked so smug after saying it that Bonnefoy had no remorse in disappointing him.

'Sorry, my friend, but I actually have someone living with me right now. I'm working hard on this one, she's such a cutie. I won't let you destroy this.'

'Who is she?' Gilbert asked before he could stop himself. His curiosity once again got better of him.

'Her name is Victoria and she is from Seychelles, would you believe it? Very young but really worth the trouble.' His eyes glinted mischievously in the dim light of the bar when he smiled. It was quite a predatory smile.

'Not only a fag but also a pedo.' Muttered Gilbert and then looked hopefully at Antonio. Spaniard felt his stare and gazed at him unfocusedly.

'Sorry but if I took you in, Lovi would get a bad idea. I don't want him to get a bad idea now. I love him.' He looked at the verge of tears when he said that. Francis patted him on the back and Carriedo sniffed pathetically.

'Aww, fuck you guys.' Stated Gilbert unhappily and returned to his beer. He had to come back home after all and talk with Ludwig.

But drinking first. They had so many bottles before them...

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It was long past midnight when Ludwig heard loud knocking on the door. He immediately rose from the couch he was sitting on and went to answer it. He wasn't able to focus on anything for the whole day because Gilbert's reaction worried him so much. And when he came back home from Feliciano and saw that his brother still didn't came back he felt like calling the police. Of course, Gilbert was an adult (though he sometimes behaved worse than 10 - year old kid) and could take care of himself but after their morning talk, Ludwig feared that his older brother might do something stupid. Like run away from the city just to show him how angry he was at him. Or worse, run away to Vegas and marry Francis. What a horrifying thought.

Ludwig shuddered and opened the door. He saw slightly swaying Francis with passed out Gilbert hanging around his back.

Well, it could have been worse.

Frenchman grinned at him and handed him his older brother. Ludwig dealt with this situation like a professional – it was not the first time it happened.

'You better talk to him tomorrow, when he wakes up.' Bonnefoy advised him in slurred voice, his thick French accent making him hard to understand. 'He was very upset about the fact that you kicked him out of your home.'

'I didn't kick him out.' Muttered Ludwig sourly.

Francis just smiled at him and waved him goodbye. He turned around and went back to the taxi. The younger Weillschmidt could make out Antonio Carriedo's sleeping form on the backseat. It seemed as the party was good.

Ludwig looked at his arms full of his sleeping brother and sighed. Tomorrow was going to be a very long and tiring day. Again.

You got this far? Congratulations ;p It was actually the longest thing I have ever written - and it's only the first chapter!

If you noticed any errors please let me know and I will correct them.