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hetaliasunshine2009-10-12 07:29 am
xconquistadora.livejournal.com) wrote in hetaliasunshine2009-10-12 07:29 am
[Fic Fill] He Plays the Violin
TITLE: He Plays the Violin
AUTHOR/ARTIST:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
xconquistadora
RECIPIENT:harosketch
CHARACTERS/PAIRINGS: Prussia/Austria
RATING: PG
NOTES: I am fail at rating, haha. [Careful, Gilbert cusses once, or so, and that's about it~] Also, first time writing Prussia or Austria... so it was interesting to write. Also, my LJ cuts do not work in Firefox. Fsdhg.
SUMMARY: Prussia can't play the violin. This drives Austria mad.
AUTHOR/ARTIST:
xconquistadora RECIPIENT:
harosketch CHARACTERS/PAIRINGS: Prussia/Austria
RATING: PG
NOTES: I am fail at rating, haha. [Careful, Gilbert cusses once, or so, and that's about it~] Also, first time writing Prussia or Austria... so it was interesting to write. Also, my LJ cuts do not work in Firefox. Fsdhg.
SUMMARY: Prussia can't play the violin. This drives Austria mad.
And he screamed.
Of course, he couldn't really blame the silver-haired man. Roderich could see it in his eyes and in the way he worked. The man was honestly trying to accomplish the task that had been taught to him- play the violin. Play one song on the violin to prove just how awesome the man really was. And yet there was no elegance, no style. Weillschmidt's fingers were just too clumsy across that neck- they skittered over the strings, his motions shockingly similar to that of a headless chicken clucking across a field. The horse hair tightened on the wooden bow and skid across the silver chords, screeching, releasing a sound of despair which made the Austrian man quail.
And when that bow somehow, somehow, shot off the violin and clattered on the ground, rolling and twisting down the stairs nearby, Roderich just could not keep his composure any longer.
He clutched his hair and he screamed.
"You haughty, atrocious prat!" Roderich's yell was enough to make Gilbert pause and just stare at him in pure, quizzical shock. He'd done many things during their acquaintanceship, friendship, and partnership that could have made the usually-strict man shatter. But never, never in his life had he actually made him snap. This was different. This was very new.
It was interesting.
"What? Freaking out over a violin thing? It just couldn't handle my awesome." Gilbert's egotistical grin was soon plopped upon his face, much to the musician's chagrin, who only scowled. "I mean, did you hear that? That was some amazing shit right there, Ro-"
"Shut it!" the Austrian was quick to snap in Gilbert's direction and soon he was trotting down the stairs, one hand gently placed upon the rail for support, eyes focused on the steps before him so he would not take a clumsy step and fall. And all too quickly, he was at the bottom, holding the bow in his hands as if it were a priceless jewel. His fingers --graceful, unlike Gilbert's-- slid over the wood carefully, wiping away a small percentage of dust that had gathered on it due to its journey down the stairs. They traveled to a little silver knob at the end of the bow after that and twisted it, loosening and tightening the horse hairs, making sure they were still stable and unharmed.
Upstairs, Gilbert scoffed. "Seriously? Come on..." and soon, he was on his way downstairs, but he did not walk. How could he walk down the stairs when there was a railing right there, upon which he could slide down like the amazing guy he was? So it was precisely what he did- he jumped upon that railing and slid down, cheering with a 'whoop!' as he traveled down, one hand mildly supporting him and the other waving the violin in the air. It took seconds for him to be at Roderich's side, wrapping his arm around his shoulders and pulling him close, smirking as the other man stuttered and turned a delicate shade of pink.
"You have to admit, Roderich, that my playing skills on this piece of crap were beyond amazing."
It was Roderich's turn to scoff as he pulled himself out of the silver-head's hold and stepped back, behind him. Within milliseconds, he was positioned with his head on Gilbert's right shoulder, his right arm moving over to control Gilbert's right arm- like a puppet, his own musical puppet- so he switched the violin between hands. It did not take long for the brunet to position their arms just so, to where Gilbert was poised like a true musician, holding his violin and bow as if they were children, simple and beautiful, unique and clean.
"Put your fingers...here," the instructions flowed cooly through the air. They were followed, albeit a bit awkwardly, and the tutor only smiled and used his hand to help his student's, getting them into the right position before moving their joined right hands so the bow could glide over the strings. The lesson was sudden, sharp, and Roderich was not going to waste time with it.
"Hold the neck, Gilbert, do not strangle it.
"Let your fingers drift from string to string, not grind. No, this is in no way able to be compared to skateboarding- this is art. Drift, Gilbert, drift.
"The bow must be able to float gently over the platinum strings, not be unnecessarily crushed onto them. Will you stop that?! Allow me!"
It was not long until Gilbert realized that his partner was serious. Once that was discovered, all arrogance was forgotten, and the man relaxed. Although his smirk did not cease as he noticed that Roderich was furiously flushing throughout the entire lesson, the rest of him was tranquil. He allowed the other to guide his arm over the wooden instrument, he allowed the real musician to tap at his fingers with his own in order to get them into the right place for the correct notes; notes that wouldn't make it sound as if the cat across the street was dying.
No more was the shrill sound that had haunted the house before.
Now, with Roderich's body fitting neatly behind Gilbert's, their arms together, heads bumped against each other and fingers interlocking occasionally as new notes were played. Real harmonies, real music was made.
And this, Roderich thinks to himself, is something he knows Gilbert's going to bother him about later. How they made sweet, sweet music and how girlish his fingers must have been as they elegantly danced over the neck with his own, and how he knew it must have somehow turned him on ("What was digging into my back was definitely not your knee, haha!") but for now, all that doesn't matter. Because Gilbert's actually smiling, not cynically. It's genuine. And it's aimed at him, as he tilts his head for a split second to let his lips brush against Roderich's cheek, muttering something about "awesome music", to which Roderich laughs and turns his head to kiss right back, smiling with the gorgeous melody they play together as it hums in the background.
Of course, he couldn't really blame the silver-haired man. Roderich could see it in his eyes and in the way he worked. The man was honestly trying to accomplish the task that had been taught to him- play the violin. Play one song on the violin to prove just how awesome the man really was. And yet there was no elegance, no style. Weillschmidt's fingers were just too clumsy across that neck- they skittered over the strings, his motions shockingly similar to that of a headless chicken clucking across a field. The horse hair tightened on the wooden bow and skid across the silver chords, screeching, releasing a sound of despair which made the Austrian man quail.
And when that bow somehow, somehow, shot off the violin and clattered on the ground, rolling and twisting down the stairs nearby, Roderich just could not keep his composure any longer.
He clutched his hair and he screamed.
"You haughty, atrocious prat!" Roderich's yell was enough to make Gilbert pause and just stare at him in pure, quizzical shock. He'd done many things during their acquaintanceship, friendship, and partnership that could have made the usually-strict man shatter. But never, never in his life had he actually made him snap. This was different. This was very new.
It was interesting.
"What? Freaking out over a violin thing? It just couldn't handle my awesome." Gilbert's egotistical grin was soon plopped upon his face, much to the musician's chagrin, who only scowled. "I mean, did you hear that? That was some amazing shit right there, Ro-"
"Shut it!" the Austrian was quick to snap in Gilbert's direction and soon he was trotting down the stairs, one hand gently placed upon the rail for support, eyes focused on the steps before him so he would not take a clumsy step and fall. And all too quickly, he was at the bottom, holding the bow in his hands as if it were a priceless jewel. His fingers --graceful, unlike Gilbert's-- slid over the wood carefully, wiping away a small percentage of dust that had gathered on it due to its journey down the stairs. They traveled to a little silver knob at the end of the bow after that and twisted it, loosening and tightening the horse hairs, making sure they were still stable and unharmed.
Upstairs, Gilbert scoffed. "Seriously? Come on..." and soon, he was on his way downstairs, but he did not walk. How could he walk down the stairs when there was a railing right there, upon which he could slide down like the amazing guy he was? So it was precisely what he did- he jumped upon that railing and slid down, cheering with a 'whoop!' as he traveled down, one hand mildly supporting him and the other waving the violin in the air. It took seconds for him to be at Roderich's side, wrapping his arm around his shoulders and pulling him close, smirking as the other man stuttered and turned a delicate shade of pink.
"You have to admit, Roderich, that my playing skills on this piece of crap were beyond amazing."
It was Roderich's turn to scoff as he pulled himself out of the silver-head's hold and stepped back, behind him. Within milliseconds, he was positioned with his head on Gilbert's right shoulder, his right arm moving over to control Gilbert's right arm- like a puppet, his own musical puppet- so he switched the violin between hands. It did not take long for the brunet to position their arms just so, to where Gilbert was poised like a true musician, holding his violin and bow as if they were children, simple and beautiful, unique and clean.
"Put your fingers...here," the instructions flowed cooly through the air. They were followed, albeit a bit awkwardly, and the tutor only smiled and used his hand to help his student's, getting them into the right position before moving their joined right hands so the bow could glide over the strings. The lesson was sudden, sharp, and Roderich was not going to waste time with it.
"Hold the neck, Gilbert, do not strangle it.
"Let your fingers drift from string to string, not grind. No, this is in no way able to be compared to skateboarding- this is art. Drift, Gilbert, drift.
"The bow must be able to float gently over the platinum strings, not be unnecessarily crushed onto them. Will you stop that?! Allow me!"
It was not long until Gilbert realized that his partner was serious. Once that was discovered, all arrogance was forgotten, and the man relaxed. Although his smirk did not cease as he noticed that Roderich was furiously flushing throughout the entire lesson, the rest of him was tranquil. He allowed the other to guide his arm over the wooden instrument, he allowed the real musician to tap at his fingers with his own in order to get them into the right place for the correct notes; notes that wouldn't make it sound as if the cat across the street was dying.
No more was the shrill sound that had haunted the house before.
Now, with Roderich's body fitting neatly behind Gilbert's, their arms together, heads bumped against each other and fingers interlocking occasionally as new notes were played. Real harmonies, real music was made.
And this, Roderich thinks to himself, is something he knows Gilbert's going to bother him about later. How they made sweet, sweet music and how girlish his fingers must have been as they elegantly danced over the neck with his own, and how he knew it must have somehow turned him on ("What was digging into my back was definitely not your knee, haha!") but for now, all that doesn't matter. Because Gilbert's actually smiling, not cynically. It's genuine. And it's aimed at him, as he tilts his head for a split second to let his lips brush against Roderich's cheek, muttering something about "awesome music", to which Roderich laughs and turns his head to kiss right back, smiling with the gorgeous melody they play together as it hums in the background.