((Cover art belongs to me. My Own AU. Feel free to use it in stories but credit me.))
When Germany is sent off to boarding school and his roommate happens to be Russia, someone that he has been told to despise all his life, will they get along?
Before we begin, thank you for being with me on this journey. This story is not going to be over any time soon, and I have much planned, even after I do my Japan magic and get Russia and Germany together. You continuing to read it brings me inspiration and a need to finish the book. So thank you!! Let's begin.
--Soviet's POV--
It took longer than normal since we walked through the tunnels. I wasn't sure how long Germany could run for, and even if he could run yet, but I didn't want to risk injuring him as soon as we got outside of the school. We had to wait for a little at the end as well as I poked the roof with a stick, looking for the hole that would let us out. After half an hour of me banging on the roof and Czech complaining loudly, I managed to get it open. I used the stick to pull down the ladder before Czech and Romania clambered up it. I looked to Germany, who looked up at it before looking at me.
"S-Sowjet, I don't zink I can climb it..."
"Surrre you kan. I be rrright behind you."
--Germany's POV--
I looked back at the ladder and sighed. "O-Okay..." I grabbed the rungs before slowly climbing up it. It was cold and wet from being outside in the snow, and my left leg kept slipping through the rungs of the ladder. I grumbled and kept going up, before squeaking at one point as I completely slipped and fell backwards, but because of the shape of my prosthetic it hooked onto the rung above it, so instead of falling I flipped back into the ladder, smashing my back against Soviet's. I grunted and sighed, my glasses had gone missing during my backwards flop so I couldn't barely see anything. I felt hands grab my waist and I whimpered before remembering that Soviet was behind me. I calmed a little before whimpering more again as I felt my leg start to slip out of the attachment for the prosthetic.
"S-Sow-w-je-et!" I managed to gasp out in a panicked cry, not realising that it was Soviet that was taking my leg out of the prosthetic. I grabbed onto whatever was in front of me, which happened to be his waist. I had to reach behind me to grab onto it, and I must have been gripping him tightly since he managed to get the prosthetic free, but now we were both falling backwards. I couldn't help but shriek as I felt myself slip from him, and my arms let go of him only to be grabbed by my jacket. I looked up at him and nearly puked at how he was holding me. He was grabbing my collar by one hand, and holding my prosthetic with his other hand. So how was he stopped? Well, I had forgotten that he had been doing ballet.
He was doing more than just the splits, a foot against each wall, and surprisingly he looked just as relaxed as when he was eating. The top opened again, the other two having heard the commotion, and looked shocked.
"Why don't you stop starrring and help pull Gerrrmany up?" The two of them reluctantly nodded, and I felt myself being pulled up and then being plonked onto the concrete. I breathed heavily, still panicking and trembling even when I looked around and realised that we were in the basement of my house. I squeezed my leg and slowly used a nearby wall to stand up, groaning at the smell. My father never cleaned the basement that I called the torture chamber, and too many of the chains I recognised, and not only by looking at them. I could practically tell them apart if I closed my eyes and felt the weight of them. I shuddered and held onto the wall to help myself getting around, seeing Soviet holding my prosthetic pieces and sighing. I would have to spend some time tonight fixing it. I grabbed onto the flap and shoved it open, knocking over the chair sat on top of the flap and scrambling to pull myself up. I managed to do it and waited for the others, leaning against the wall.
"Czech, RRRomania, check house zorrroughly. Gerrrmany, I vant to talk." He wrapped an arm around my body and helped me to get to the small living room before checking everywhere. Once he was satisfied that there was no cameras or mics, he sat me down and sat next to me. "I apologise forrr what just happened. I do not know how to fix yourrr prrrosthetic, but seeing as RRRussia told me how many times you've modified it, I assuming zat you know how to fix it. Zat brrrings us to ourrr sekond prrroblem...RRRussia volunteerrred. Ve'rrre staying herrre until he katches up. I don't know why, but UN perrrsonally authorrrised it."
I groaned and rubbed my face. "Zat idiot! He knovs it's dangerous out here! It's not like ve can die, put he can sdill pe hinchured!" He patted my shoulder.
"I'm surrre yourrr boyfrrriend vill be okay-"
"He's not mein poyfriend-"
"Nyet, not yet." I could feel my cheeks blush and I groaned and rubbed them whilst Soviet chuckled beside me, standing up and leaving me to my own thoughts as he checked up with Czech and Romania. I moved from my cheeks to my temple as I tried to soothe my brain. That was frightening. And I had been through my fair share of shit. The only thing that sucked was that I didn't have my tools, but I got up and grabbed a cane that was in a corner (probably my grandfather's old cane) and limped into the kitchen, rifling through all the cutlery, and deciding to have a look throughout the whole kitchen to see what had been abandoned.
The first thing I noticed as soon as I walked into the kitchen was the disgusting smell. I assumed nothing had been cleaned since I had left since all the plates were dirty, and he had started to use plastic plates and cutlery. I felt my OCD twitch, and I had to open the window before looking around the whole kitchen. Bottles of cleaning supplies were untouched, and the whole fridge, walls and food, was covered in a thick layer of black and green mould. I quickly shut the doors and grabbed the cleanest knife I could fine before limping back to the living room and started to screw the pieces back together with the knife.
Somewhere, in a hidden bunker. A mouth separates into his version of a grin as two countries step before him. He refuses to speak in any language apart from his native tongue, even though he perfectly understood English.
"Wir greifen sie in drei Tagen an, kurz bevor das Gör des Sowjets auftaucht. Ich habs?" The taller man translated it to the shorter man before they nodded and walked off, both of their tails swishing in unison. Relationships were weird.
The first confirmed OTP of the story: North Korea and China! Don't ask why I'm only just now bringing this ship up, I have my reasons.
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