Bad Romance

Ludwig knew this was wrong. Somehow, it was so wrong, it was right.
It blew his normally logical mind to feel this strongly about something that he would discard the prized German logic.
And for what?
Well, the better question was for whom.
His brother. His own, older brother. True, as a personification of a nation, no one was related by blood to him, since every nation was shaped by the ideology and mindset of its people. But Prussia was the closest to the German Empire, now known as Germany.
Prussia had been there since the Holy Roman Empire fell to pieces.
Prussia had watched over the formation of the German Empire, and through his disputes with Austria, shielded the small empire.
That had now outgrown and outlived him. And yet Prussia remained a proud page of history.
Just as Gilbert remained as a part of Germany.
No, it didn't make much sense to any other nation. No one had shared such a close history as the so-called German Brothers. Maybe it was because their countries had slowly become one, that Ludwig and Gilbert became so tightly linked, connected, and undeniably attracted to each other.
And so, the taller, blonde nation had found himself deeply in love with his 'brother', with the kingdom that raised him, so much so he refused to let him become just a part of him. So much so that his pure need for Gilbert's presence had kept him in existence. Germany would never forget Prussia, and Ludwig would never let go.
And all this suited Gilbert just fine.
He was truly unique, a nation without a country, and yet, he could look upon his brother's nation and still feel that Prussian pride reflected in his former charge.
It filled him with pride, and broke him with loneliness. Prussia had always been alone. No ally stayed by his side, always looking to Austria and Hungary's close relationship, even the tiny brat Liechtenstein had her bizarre 'brother' Switzerland, the two inseparable.
Except, he was not alone. He had Germany. No, he had Ludwig. Not that with beings as they were, that the two could ever be mutually exclusive.
Ludwig had needed him. Throughout the two world wars, Gilbert had not stood by idly to watch his brother suffer. He had stood by him, fought for him, what he was created to do, raging bloody hellfire on his enemies. But then everything had changed, and Prussia found himself dissolved, no longer declared a free state. Hitler's government had done this, destroyed everything Prussia had done for Germany in one fell swoop.
Gilbert should have died back then, and no one knew so better than Ludwig and Gilbert himself. But he hadn't. Suffering through the war, changing as his brother did under the new, hateful dictatorship of Hitler, he had continued to exist, the memory of Prussia becoming one with the German nation.
And then that terrible wall...
Ludwig shook his head, it made his body ache to think of the pain back then. But perhaps, it had been the first instance he had known he loved his brother far more than any brother should. It had caused him so much agony to be parted from him, his other half. A feeling that wasn't only received on his end.
And then, their reunion...Probably the most joyous moment in Germany's 'modern' memory. And Gilbert was still there. Cruder now, somehow deeply marked by his streak as the DDR, (Deutsche Demokratische Republik) more hardy, and perhaps just a hint less bloodthirsty than the old kingdom he used to go to war for in a heartbeat.
The times had changed, there was no room for a bloodthirsty, power-hungry nation such as Prussia, and so, Gilbert had changed...
Becoming one with him, in more ways than one, he was truly Germany, as truly as Ludwig was.
And so, Ludwig was almost beyond in love with Gilbert, their unity that of their nation, unbreakable and built on centuries of a history together.

He would never be alone again. And that was just one of the many reasons Gilbert loved his brother. His brother, who had been clinging to him as a child, grown into a strong nation that first, sheltered his, then became his also.
Gilbert squinted as he traced over old scars that had almost faded from view entirely. If one held a map of Prussia against his back, marking the spots of significant wars, they'd still find the corresponding scar on his back. He had never, and would never forget the awesome kingdom he was. Or the King whom he served with the greatest loyalty, the king who had been far superior to any of his contemporaries.
But Friedrich II was long dead, Prussia long dissolved. But never forgotten.
The albino shook his silvery head slightly and sat up, stretching luxuriously in the rather large bed.
Strange how Sunday mornings always put him in such a reminiscent mood. It was probably because of the strong Christian streak throughout his history, programmed into him to appreciate the 'day of rest'.
The other side of the bed was empty, but it was no surprise to Gilbert. Ludwig had his damned dogs to take care of, and the German nation never slept past 7am, even on Sunday.
Unless his dear brother managed to tire him out enough to turn off his alarm clock.
Gilbert smacked his lips together before running a tongue over them, grimacing slightly at his own taste. Beer, sweat, more beer and a certain salty aroma that was never pleasant hours later.
He slipped from the warm bed, moving his bare, pale body to the bathroom, deciding a nice hot shower would be ideal before he searched for his beloved brother.

Ludwig opened the door, finding the house suspiciously silent considering it was past noon, and Gilbert usually heaved his 'awesome' self out of bed by now.
Ignoring the dogs that panted and squeezed past him to take up various pieces of furniture, Ludwig entered the kitchen, hungry now from the lengthy walk.
Something about Sunday mornings made him more withdrawn rather than stoic. He liked to contemplate things whilst he was at the park with his three dogs, yet he only allowed this on Sunday, and only if he had managed his impressive workload of the week.
But being the meticulous and hard-working German nation, he found his Sundays freed up a lot more.
And today his mind had circled endlessly around his lover, his brother. The albino, trouble-making nation was more than a handful, but he was also older than most, and in his brattish behaviour, experience and knowledge shone through more than once.
Ludwig's thoughts were cut short when an arm slid over his shoulder, a well-rested, grinning Gilbert looking at what he was making.
"Guten Morgen, West."
It brought a smile to Ludwig's lips to still carry this nickname,
"Endlich ausgeschlafen, Gilbert?"
"Ich brauch meinen Schönheitsschlaf, du sackratte."
Ludwig only graced Gilbert's smirk and rude reply with a raised eyebrow before turning around, pulling the smaller albino slightly closer, only this comfortable in their house, with no nation, no boss and no one to judge their relationship. Because no matter how wrong, it felt right. Like Gilbert would say, fuck logic until it can't even crawl anymore!
Dry, yet hot lips met his in a rough kiss, and Ludwig pressed his brother tighter to himself, opening his mouth and letting the other's slick tongue invade his mouth.
He could feel their chest pressed to each other, the strong heartbeat that was mirrored perfectly. Their hearts beat as one. One Nation, forever divided between the two of them. One Love, that would keep them together until the names Germany and Prussia faded from History together forever.