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hetalia2011-05-21 08:56 pm
onlyforhetalia.livejournal.com) wrote in hetalia2011-05-21 08:56 pm
Entry tags:
[Fanfiction]Just Give That Rhythm Everything You've Got
Title: Just Give That Rhythm Everything You've Got
Author/Artist: Myself!
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Italy, Germany, and America (Germany/America if you squint)
Rating: G
Warnings: Human names? IDK, seems pretty tame.
Summary: Years after the Nazis and World War II, Ludwig finally tells someone about his guilty pleasure of the time, swing dancing. Of course, Feliciano could never keep his mouth shut about any secret, and the one person Ludwig wished would never know now wants to dance with him.
“Veee? Ludwig likes to dance?” Feliciano asked, tilting his head while the blushing German sputtered excuses.
“N-not like that, Feliciano. I-I l-liked American culture.” Of course, this was the wrong way to put it and Feli giggled quietly as Ludwig realized his mistake.
“N-No! I mean, I r-respect it.” The Italian didn’t stop laughing, so Ludwig felt himself continue to blush, more than before. Of course telling someone about his secret swing obsession during the 1930s had been a mistake. He often forgot to guard his thoughts with Feli around because they were such close friends. But some things can never be unsaid, like loving American culture during the second World War.
“So, you like that American dance?” Feli asked, standing up to demonstrate. He flailed around for a full minute while Ludwig moved all breakable objects out of the ‘dancing’ nation’s way. As if his dancing was not an example enough, the man began to sing a typical swing music melody. Ludwig sighed, and tried not to intervene and teach the Italian how it was really done. Breathing heavily and smiling like the fool he was, Feli stopped and asked,
“Like that? Swing?” Ludwig sighed again, and began to rearrange the furniture back to its original position. Feli noticed his friend’s embarrassment and attempted to apologize. Draping himself over the now blushing blonde man he asked innocently,
“Does Ludwig want me to forget about his secret?” Looking into Feli’s light brown eyes was not a problem for the German, seeing as Feli had placed himself in such away the two’s noses were inches apart, as he replied,
“Yes, I would like that very much. Thank you.” But, Ludwig forgot how the Italian loved to talk, and that truth always comes out if you tell North Italy.
“Dude, Ludwig!” Ludwig flinched at the American’s loud voice as he exited the meeting. All the German wanted to do was return home and drink some bier, maybe even read a nice book to relax. But, of course, Alfred was not going to let him have any relaxation.
“What is it, Mr. Jones?” He asked, failing to sound polite and not peeved at the younger nation. Alfred was eying him with such anticipation and joy that Ludwig assumed the American must be mistaking him for someone else. Sure, he called him by name, but there was no reason for Alfred to look at him like that.
“So, I was talking to Feli…” The nation began, pushing his hair around with his hand as he talked. Ludwig froze, knowing what was about to unfold. “… And he said during the Nazi thing you liked swing dancing.” Ludwig sputtered like a broken car engine and attempted to cover up his guilty pleasure,
“Ah? Me? Noo, Feliciano must have dreamt it up or something. I don’t know the Lindy Hop or anything…” He trailed off as he realized his mistake in naming one of the swing dances so directly. Alfred’s smile widened so that it outshone the sun, and Ludwig’s blush reddened too.
“Come on, it’s okay! Arthur likes swing too, he loves it!” Alfred exclaimed, throwing his arm over the German’s shoulder and attracting many stares from other nations. Ludwig didn’t try to explain that Arthur ‘liked’ Alfred, so of course he was into American culture. Reddening even more, Ludwig threw the arm off his shoulder and scuttled out of the building. The fresh breeze did nothing to ease his embarrassment, especially when Alfred followed him outside, yelling for him to wait up.
God, the things I’m going to have to life down, thought Ludwig. Gilbert probably saw that too, will my life become a living hell? Ludwig ducked into an alley to avoid the American, still searching for him, as he imagined the sort of teases he’d now get from his older brother and his friends. Sinking down to the road in the middle of the alley, Ludwig placed his red face into his hands. Telling secrets never ended well, he should’ve known that after the restaurant incident.
“It don't mean a thing, if it ain't got that swing.” Ludwig jerked his head up at the sound of an American signing. He turned towards the end of the alley to see Alfred, dancing the way towards him. Overcoming his desire to complement the nation on the excellent swing dance, he turned to escape. But, of course, Ludwig chose the alley with no other exit.
“It don't mean a thing all you got to do is sing.” He spun, slowly, to face to nearing American. Alfred stopped, actually reading the atmosphere for once, and asked the other nation,
“Why don’t you want to dance with me?” Well, maybe he didn’t read the atmosphere that well.
“It’s a secret pleasure, Mr. Jones. I don’t want the world knowing I like American culture.” Ludwig mumbled, forgetting once again not to use the words ‘I like American culture’.
“Aw, lighten up!” Alfred shouted, grabbing Ludwig around the waist, “We’re in an alley, no one can see us!” He began to dance with the older nation, even though the other was obviously pulling away. Despite himself, Ludwig felt his feet moving to the American’s ‘doo-ah’ing. Left foot back, right foot. Chasse to the left. Somehow, he ended up twirling America as he danced. Ludwig hadn’t realized it yet, but he was enjoying himself. Sometime after some lifts and almost dancing out of the alley and onto the actual street, Alfred’s singing stopped and Ludwig found himself holding the other nation very intimately.
“Oh, um, sorry Alfred.” He apologized, immediately letting go of the other blonde. Alfred smiled grandly, despite the well-hidden disappointed look in his eyes,
“You called me Alfred. So, we’re friends?” Ludwig nodded, taking the man’s outstreatched hand and shaking it,
“Yeah, something like that.” Alfred exited the alley rather quickly, but Ludwig lingered in the darkened street for a moment. Spinning around in a slow circle before dancing for a moment by himself, Ludwig hummed for the first time in years. Stopping his short solo, he straightened his tie and walked out of the alley.
Walking back to his car, Ludwig couldn’t help but smile and sing under his breath,
“It makes no difference, if it's sweet or hot.
Just give that rhythm, everything you've got.”
Author/Artist: Myself!
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Italy, Germany, and America (Germany/America if you squint)
Rating: G
Warnings: Human names? IDK, seems pretty tame.
Summary: Years after the Nazis and World War II, Ludwig finally tells someone about his guilty pleasure of the time, swing dancing. Of course, Feliciano could never keep his mouth shut about any secret, and the one person Ludwig wished would never know now wants to dance with him.
“Veee? Ludwig likes to dance?” Feliciano asked, tilting his head while the blushing German sputtered excuses.
“N-not like that, Feliciano. I-I l-liked American culture.” Of course, this was the wrong way to put it and Feli giggled quietly as Ludwig realized his mistake.
“N-No! I mean, I r-respect it.” The Italian didn’t stop laughing, so Ludwig felt himself continue to blush, more than before. Of course telling someone about his secret swing obsession during the 1930s had been a mistake. He often forgot to guard his thoughts with Feli around because they were such close friends. But some things can never be unsaid, like loving American culture during the second World War.
“So, you like that American dance?” Feli asked, standing up to demonstrate. He flailed around for a full minute while Ludwig moved all breakable objects out of the ‘dancing’ nation’s way. As if his dancing was not an example enough, the man began to sing a typical swing music melody. Ludwig sighed, and tried not to intervene and teach the Italian how it was really done. Breathing heavily and smiling like the fool he was, Feli stopped and asked,
“Like that? Swing?” Ludwig sighed again, and began to rearrange the furniture back to its original position. Feli noticed his friend’s embarrassment and attempted to apologize. Draping himself over the now blushing blonde man he asked innocently,
“Does Ludwig want me to forget about his secret?” Looking into Feli’s light brown eyes was not a problem for the German, seeing as Feli had placed himself in such away the two’s noses were inches apart, as he replied,
“Yes, I would like that very much. Thank you.” But, Ludwig forgot how the Italian loved to talk, and that truth always comes out if you tell North Italy.
“Dude, Ludwig!” Ludwig flinched at the American’s loud voice as he exited the meeting. All the German wanted to do was return home and drink some bier, maybe even read a nice book to relax. But, of course, Alfred was not going to let him have any relaxation.
“What is it, Mr. Jones?” He asked, failing to sound polite and not peeved at the younger nation. Alfred was eying him with such anticipation and joy that Ludwig assumed the American must be mistaking him for someone else. Sure, he called him by name, but there was no reason for Alfred to look at him like that.
“So, I was talking to Feli…” The nation began, pushing his hair around with his hand as he talked. Ludwig froze, knowing what was about to unfold. “… And he said during the Nazi thing you liked swing dancing.” Ludwig sputtered like a broken car engine and attempted to cover up his guilty pleasure,
“Ah? Me? Noo, Feliciano must have dreamt it up or something. I don’t know the Lindy Hop or anything…” He trailed off as he realized his mistake in naming one of the swing dances so directly. Alfred’s smile widened so that it outshone the sun, and Ludwig’s blush reddened too.
“Come on, it’s okay! Arthur likes swing too, he loves it!” Alfred exclaimed, throwing his arm over the German’s shoulder and attracting many stares from other nations. Ludwig didn’t try to explain that Arthur ‘liked’ Alfred, so of course he was into American culture. Reddening even more, Ludwig threw the arm off his shoulder and scuttled out of the building. The fresh breeze did nothing to ease his embarrassment, especially when Alfred followed him outside, yelling for him to wait up.
God, the things I’m going to have to life down, thought Ludwig. Gilbert probably saw that too, will my life become a living hell? Ludwig ducked into an alley to avoid the American, still searching for him, as he imagined the sort of teases he’d now get from his older brother and his friends. Sinking down to the road in the middle of the alley, Ludwig placed his red face into his hands. Telling secrets never ended well, he should’ve known that after the restaurant incident.
“It don't mean a thing, if it ain't got that swing.” Ludwig jerked his head up at the sound of an American signing. He turned towards the end of the alley to see Alfred, dancing the way towards him. Overcoming his desire to complement the nation on the excellent swing dance, he turned to escape. But, of course, Ludwig chose the alley with no other exit.
“It don't mean a thing all you got to do is sing.” He spun, slowly, to face to nearing American. Alfred stopped, actually reading the atmosphere for once, and asked the other nation,
“Why don’t you want to dance with me?” Well, maybe he didn’t read the atmosphere that well.
“It’s a secret pleasure, Mr. Jones. I don’t want the world knowing I like American culture.” Ludwig mumbled, forgetting once again not to use the words ‘I like American culture’.
“Aw, lighten up!” Alfred shouted, grabbing Ludwig around the waist, “We’re in an alley, no one can see us!” He began to dance with the older nation, even though the other was obviously pulling away. Despite himself, Ludwig felt his feet moving to the American’s ‘doo-ah’ing. Left foot back, right foot. Chasse to the left. Somehow, he ended up twirling America as he danced. Ludwig hadn’t realized it yet, but he was enjoying himself. Sometime after some lifts and almost dancing out of the alley and onto the actual street, Alfred’s singing stopped and Ludwig found himself holding the other nation very intimately.
“Oh, um, sorry Alfred.” He apologized, immediately letting go of the other blonde. Alfred smiled grandly, despite the well-hidden disappointed look in his eyes,
“You called me Alfred. So, we’re friends?” Ludwig nodded, taking the man’s outstreatched hand and shaking it,
“Yeah, something like that.” Alfred exited the alley rather quickly, but Ludwig lingered in the darkened street for a moment. Spinning around in a slow circle before dancing for a moment by himself, Ludwig hummed for the first time in years. Stopping his short solo, he straightened his tie and walked out of the alley.
Walking back to his car, Ludwig couldn’t help but smile and sing under his breath,
“It makes no difference, if it's sweet or hot.
Just give that rhythm, everything you've got.”