Chapter 1: Trickster.

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((Edit: You all can honestly skip to chapter 11, that's where I finally figured out where I was going with this story.))

Roderich sat in the world meeting room, his hand quickly, but neatly, copying what Ludwig was saying. Well, most of what he was saying. He hadn't been the same since last night, which will be explained soon. He sighed and glanced over at Vasch, who had taken his place beside him. Why did he love him? Why did he even bother with him after what the Swiss said to him just last night?

~Flashback~

"What?" Roderich asked weakly, but still managed a smile. "I. don't believe I heard you correctly."

"I'm sorry, Roderich. I've found someone else now. I hope in the long run, we can still be allies." Vasch said cooly, holding out a hand. Roderich nodded slowly and grasped the other's hand and shook it lightly. "Yes. . .allies." he said sadly. "that'd be great." Just allies. . .

~Flashback Over~

All the aristocrat wanted to do was lay in bed and cry and cry. . .and cry. But he knew he had to be stronger than that. He didn't want to look like some teenage girl that broke down over a breakup via text. Vasch was just another man. . .a man he loved. A man who took his first time. A man who'd treated him with such kindness no matter what- 'No! Stop it, Roderich! Get over him, there's a meeting taking place for Gott sake!!' he mentally screamed at himself.

When he zoned back in and looked up, America was speaking. 'Verdammt! I've never been behind in a meeting! *sigh* I'll simply copy someone else's.'

~After The Meeting~

Roderich pulled into his driveway, killing his expensive, white Mersadez-Benz. He got out, locked it, and not to his surprise, every light in his house was on 'Gott, I hope Gilbert isn't here.' he thought to himself, walking up to his house and opening the door.

"Heeeeey, Rod! It's about time, I've been waiting FOREVER and I'm BORED AS HELL!" a much too familiar (and annoying) voice rang out. "Ja Gilbert." he responded, closing the door behind him. "Why are you here anyways?"

"I came to bother you, but you were at one of those stupid meetings!" he exclaimed, opening another beer.

"Are you drinking mein (my) beer!?"

"Our beer, Rod." the albino cut him off with a smirk.

"Was? (what?)" Roderich furrowed his brows and eyed Gilbert suspiciously.

"We share everything now, ole' Roddy! Ever since that night we spent together. . ." Gilbert stood and slowly walked over to the very confused Austrian. "Do you not remember, buddy ole' pal?" Gilbert was now standing uncomfortably close to Roderich, making the brunette forced against the wall.

"G-Gilbert, I don't know what you're playing at but- nngh!" He was cut off by Gilbert's warm, wet tongue sliding up the shell of his ear. "I must've done ya so hard, you forgot, huh?" he purred into Roderich's ear.

"Excuse me!?!" Roderich shouted, completely flushed and shaking.

"You heard me, Roddy boy the whole night, just me and you. Panting, squirming, screaming eachothers names until our throats were raw~" the Prussian smirked and moved his face ever-so-close to the brunette's, lips barely touching. "G-Gilbert." he breathed out. He didn't want to admit it and couldn't fight the fact that he was turned on, just the slightest bit. He. . .kind of liked it. 'So close.' Roderich lunged forward, about to close the gap in between the two. Before their lips could meet, Gilbert pulled back. "Kesesese! You were ACTUALLY going to kiss me!" Gilbert's too-loud voice broke the silence.

Roderich growled.

"I was just f***ing with you, Specs! None of that happened!" Gilbert confessed, holding his stomach.

"Ha ha, whatever. Just leave me und my beer ALONE." Austria stormed into his office and opened a file of papers. Everyone left him in under a year. Elizaveta, Ludwig, Vasch, everyone. He didn't need Gilbert playing his stupid games. 'If only he knew what he does to me.'

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