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jellyjellyjellyfish · 1 year

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HETALIA | America + Germany

Drunk Antics

America goes out for drinks with Germany, and brings up the idea of the two of them getting matching tattoos together.

(╬≖ิ__≖) (☞≧ヮ≦)☞

Warnings: None, but maybe slight warning for mildly influential choices from alcohol?

Not fully proofread

The bar hummed at a constant volume of the voices from all the patrons in the bar. It was decently sized with plenty of space for large and small parties alike. Many people were hanging out in groups, drinking, eating, and having a good time.

At the bar sat an unlikely pair, Alfred F. Jones and Ludwig Beilschmidt. It was a rare occurrence to see the two together, under civil and friendly circumstances, yet here they were sharing drinks as they chat between each other.

Germany swirled his beer as he pondered, feeling the buzz of the alcohol catch up to him. How did he end up here again? Ah… right, America had - for some godforsaken reason - messaged him that “they should totally go out for some drinks, bro, like it would be so fun! We gotta get drunk dude, and hang out like buddies!”

Ludwig had questioned the text, unsure why America, of all people, would reach out to him to go for some drinks. They hardly interacted much outside of strictly business or formal reasons. Yet, with some convincing from Italy and Japan, Ludwig had figured it wouldn’t be so bad going out to drink with Alfred. Maybe Alfred really did want to be… friends with him.

But Ludwig didn’t hold his breath, the America had to be up to something, right?

Being the tight-knit person he is, Ludwig kept any possibilities of a friendship from his mind as he drank with Alfred. They were just there to hang out like “buddies,” as Alfred put it.

“And I was like ‘Woah that’s so crazy!’ And he was like, ‘that’s so cool, you’re totally my hero now!’ And I was like ‘I totally know! But thanks for telling me!’” Alfred was rambling on about some interaction he had with someone recently, and Ludwig felt slightly - only slightly, or more so a minuscule, amount - of guilt at not paying as much attention to America as he probably should have been. America didn’t seem to notice, though.

Germany zoned in on the rest of his conversation, though, sipping his beer as he listened. He would nod periodically as the American rambled on about… whatever he was talking about.

Despite his loud and obnoxious demeanor, Ludwig wasn’t totally hating the Americans company. He supposed it was because he’s had plenty of practice for tolerance of this kind of loud and obnoxious and idiotic personality.

As the two went through a few more rounds of drinks, after Alfred loudly exclaimed to the bartender for another round, Alfred suddenly turned to Ludwig.

“Hey, Germany, have you ever thought about getting a tattoo?” America asked, looking intently at the German, seeming slightly buzzed but still better off than Germany. He was beginning to feel a little more cloudy-headed.

Germany eyed the American, unsure where this sudden question came from, but answered regardless. “Not particularly… I never really saw the want for one, personally.”

“But think about it, man! We could get matching tattoos on our backs, like bros! Wouldn’t that be cool?!” Alfred responded, slightly guided by the alcohol in his system. Yet Ludwig could not deny that there was an excitement in the man’s eyes, he could almost see actual stars shinning in them.

Germany rolled his eyes before responding to America’s proclamation. “I don’t know…” he dragged out, hesitant, “Tattoos are permanent, and I’m not sure I’d want something like that on my body for the rest of my life.” Germany didn’t immediately turn down the idea of getting a tattoo with America, though, but didn’t want to state so to said American.

America slid next to Germany, swinging an arm around his shoulders as his face got a little too close for comfort for Germany. The smell of alcohol was apparent just by smelling Alfred’s breath.

“Come on, dude, live a little!” America said, a wide grin on his dopey face. “You only live once, right? And we don’t have to get something crazy, just a small and meaningful to us!” America got even closer, if it was possible, and if Germany was less drunk he likely would have clobbered the stupid American for being so close.

“Like, you cant tell me you don’t have a wild streak in you, dude. I’ve seen some German culture! You guys are into some wild things! AHAHAHA!” America rambled on, bringing a finger to poke at Germany’s cheek. With a slightly redeemed face from Americas words and actions, Germany had to fight hard to not punch the man. He want to give the guy the benefit of the doubt and not totally ruin the night… but the more the man poked his cheek, the more favorable punching him seemed.

Despite it all, Germany did begin considering it. America did have a point… he could probably do with relaxing a little more, and maybe a tattoo wouldn’t be so bad, and it’s not like he hated the idea of tattoos.

And he would be… matching with someone. Germany couldn’t deny that the idea made him feel kind of happy. Only a little. A tiny bit. A teensy-weensy bit.

A long sigh came from the German. “Ja, alirght…” he started, “but what should we get?” He finished, staring at his drink wondering if this truly was the best idea. But the alcohol washed away that worry rather quickly.

America fist bumped the air with a, “YEAH ALRIGHT!” With an arm still around Germany, he relayed his idea. “Okay, so hear me out,” he started, and Germany felt himself regret his actions immensely already. “We get a tattoo of the American and German flags crossing each other behind an eagle with a heart in the middle!”

Germany looked at the man, slightly dumbfounded. That was… actually a rather sweet sentiment from the American and wasn’t immediately “LETS GET THE AMERICAN FLAG!!” Which America likely already had anyway…

In Ludwig’s silence, America added in an even louder and more excited voice, “It’ll be a symbol of our friendship and alliance!” And he struck his stupid pose with that big smile on his face and thumb pointing at himself.

Germany held a stoic face as he eyed the American, before he suddenly burst out laughing. “You’re kidding, right?” Germany spat at America.

America kept his wide grin as he responded. “What? It’s perfect! Trust me, man, this’ll be awesome!!” He stated, shaking Germany but his shoulders in his enthusiasm.

“Come on! I even have the design already drawn and planned out! We just gotta go to a parlor!” America added, whipping out a paper with the design on it out form one of his pockets.

“W-what… WHERE THE HELL DID YOU GET THAT FROM?! WHY DO YOU ALREADY HAVE IT PLANNED?” Germany yelled at the man, which only caused America to smile and laugh dumbly as he usually did.

The buzz echoed through the small shop as Germany and America laid on their stomachs on the tattoo shop chairs. For the second time that night, Germany had a clear moment of thought and wondered how exactly he got himself in this situation.

Here he was, getting a tattoo on his lower back with America of all people. The tattoo artists had accepted the two in that night, not really caring that the two of them were likely (really) drunk already.

America was babbling on again about something, before being interrupted by himself laughing - saying the tattoo location tickled - before going back to rambling about something idiotic.

Germany sighed as he dropped his head onto his crossed arms, heaving a deep sigh. Yet before he knew it, the tattoos were done, and the two of them were free to go.

The two countries admired the tattoos in the mirror the parlor had, and Germany found himself actually enjoying how it looked. Or maybe he was drunk. Or maybe both…

America on the other hand was as loud as ever, exclaiming how cool he thought it looked and that he was matching and such.

Once again, America had slung an arm around Germany’s shoulder - neither of them wearing their shirts yet, so Germany felt kind of weird feeling the sweat from the American on his skin - and rambling to Germany his appreciation.

“Thanks so much dude! These look so totally AWESOME! Everyone’s gonna be jealous of our close body for sure!” He ended with a thumbs up. With a hard clap on the back, America adds, “Thanks for doing this man, you’re such a good friend.” Both of them were too drunk for this… but Germany couldn’t deny he didn’t really mind it all.

“Ja, you’re welcome, I suppose…” he states, not sure what else to say, but feels a warmth in his chest at being called a “good friend,” and from America if all people! Who would have thought… certainly not Germany.

America kept parting Germany’s back in an involuntary way as he added, “And on we go to the next bar! The night isn’t over yet! AHAHAHAHA!” And with that, America dropped the money off at the cashier and grabbed their shirts before dragging Germany to another bar.

Maybe it was a bad idea after all…

A loud groan came from Germany as he slowly sat up, a hand resting in his head at the pounding headache he was feeling. What the hell did he do last night… he obviously drank way too much.

A lot of things were a bit blurry from the night before, but he remembered he had gone out to get drinks with America… he didn’t exactly remember what they did, but a gut feeling told Germany he immensely regretted it… what he regretted, he wasn’t sure.

A groan from Germany’s side snapped him out of his thoughts as he looked over, fear shot through the German in that moment.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN MEIN BEEEEEEEEDDD!!!” He shouted, jumping out of his bed as he stared at the “perpetrator” laying in his bed.

“Woah, dude, could you maybe keep it down a little? My head flipping hurts like a bitch…” America sat up, him also coddling his aching head.

Germany stood in utter confusion and shock, gapping like a fish as he stared at America. Who was laying in his bed. Right next to where Germany was laying. Both… topless.

In moment of clarity and silence, the two looked at each other - one more serious looking than the other. After a moment, there was a loud scream that resonated in the house before quieter screaming followed.

“WHAT WERE YOU DOING IN MY BED AND WERE IS YOUR SHIIIIIRTT!” Germany screamed, strangling America with his hands in a similar way he has done to Italy time and time before. America still held a dopey look on his face, not fully awake and aware - but when was he truly?

“Dude. Please. Stop. Choking. Me. Dude. Please!” America gasped out between moments of Germany’s strangulation. Germany was seething, feeling like he knew what he regretted, but hopefully it wasn’t true!

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME LAST NIGHT, YOU HEATHEN!” Germany shouted at America, seemingly quickening his shaking of America’s head.

“Dude, you’re gonna. Give me. Baby. Shaken. Syndrome!” America gasped out, feeling his headache worsen as his head got shaken about like some bobble-head.

“YOU IDIOT, ONLY BABIES CAN GET THAT, BUT YOU ARE AS SMART AS A BABY SO IT MIGHT BE POSSIBLE FOR YOU!” Germany continued shouting, his anger and embarrassment seeming to know no bounds. “ANSWER THE QUESTION, WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME LAST NIGHT?!!!”

America tapped Germany’s hands in rapid succession, trying to get the German to let go lest his souls leave his body from the strangulation. It seemed it was too late, for America felt like he was about to pass out.

After a few moments, Germany finally relaxed a little bit. He resigned himself to sitting on the edge of the bed with a solemn expression as he stared blankly at the floor of his room, mouth and chin resting in his intertwined fingers as he stayed completely silent.

America had managed to not completely pass out, but his headache was still very apparent as he laid in Germany’s bed starfish style, half of his limbs falling off the side. He sat up once more, feeling more aware of himself and less tired and headache induced.

“Bro, I swear we didn’t do anything! I just crashed at your place after last night. But you got so totally wasted, you should have seen yourself! AHAHAHHA! You get kinda funny when shit-faced- AH, OKAY IM SORRY, I DIDN’T MEAN IT, DON’T STRANGLE ME AGAIN, ITS NOT MY KIND OF KINK!” This only provoked Germany more, causing another round of choking. This time America felt he might actually pass out, but couldn’t pry Germany’s hands off his neck.

When things calmed down once more, Germany was back to his staring at the floor while America laid draped off the side of the bed, his upper body resting in the floor while his legs stayed on the bed. He passed out this time.

“At least we didn’t do anything last night… but that still doesn’t tell me why he was in my bed. I have plenty of other rooms or couches the stupid American could have slept on… what am I, a charity house?!” Germany pouted to himself, sighing as he dropped his head completely.

Germany finally got up and decided to wash up for the morning. He grabbed a new shirt to put on and placed it on his sink counter when he got to his restroom. He splashed his face with water, trying to wake up and get rid of the headache he still felt.

As he turned to grab a towel form behind him, something caught his eye. He turned so his back faces all the way to the mirror, enough for him to see it himself. Again, Germany felt a sense of horror.

There, on the lower part of his back, was a tramp-stamp tattoo of an eagle with the American and German flag behind it as the eagle held a heart in its claws.

Germany quijcly ran out to where America was, still passed out halfway between the bed and floor. Sure enough, Germany saw the matching tattoo on America’s lower back. Germany turned around in silent contrition as he morosely walked back to the bathroom to finish his morning routine.

In Germany’s kitchen, America and Germany sat in silence as they are their breakfast and drank their drinks in silence. Germany was feeling nice enough to cook a little extra for America to enjoy as well.

He may have felt slightly - again, only slightly - bad for choking out America as he did.

Both of them had managed to get their hangovers to calm down, yet neither tried talking to the others. America may be stupid, but he was dealing with twice the pain of a headache, thanks to having been choked out.

Germany felt it odd for the American to be so… quiet. It was unusual, and made him uneasy by the silence. He would have apologized, but… he’s not really good with words or emotions, and definitely not putting the two together.

So he stayed silent as they drank their coffee.

“Wow, you two look totally shit-faced. Party to hard last night?” Walked in Austria, looking prim and proper as ever. Just seeing the Austrian made Germany’s headache worsen for a moment as he looked off in disgust.

He had forgotten the man lived here with him, thanks to the whole fiasco with America this morning.

Germany only gave a grunt of acknowledgement, while America stayed zoned out. He was staring at nothing with a brain-dead look on his face. It seems he didn’t even notice the Austrian.

Austria walked past them as he went to prepare his own coffee. “You two were so loud this morning. Get a little too much fun together? I thought you guys would have had enough from last night. You do remember other people live here, right?” The man was as nonchalant as ever.

Germany spat into his drink as he stared wide-eyed at Austria. “WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?! WE DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!” Germany vehemently defended. Germany shot his glance to the dazed-off America next to him.

“YOU SAID WE DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!” He yelled to him, snapping America from whatever he was thinking about. He looked confused for a moment before he put his hands up in defense.

“Woah, dude! I was telling the truth! I swear it!” He started, anxiously looking at the German, hoping to not get choked out again.

Germany glared at the man, one of his hands crushing his counter in the tight grip he had. “Don’t lie to me, America…” He seethed, ready to lung at the man again. “Getting tattoos must have been enough… right?” Germany added, his gaze conveying he was ready to kill the damned country in front of him.

Even America wasn’t dumb enough to miss the look Germany had. America kept his hands up, as if he wanted to take a wild beast. “Woah, dude, calm down… I was telling the truth! I’m not that kind of guy! Well I am that kind of guy… but not that kind of guy, you know? Like the France kind of guy-“

Having heard enough, Germany lunged at America ready to choke him out once and for all. America scrambled away, managing to dodge the German’s attack. The American made a mad dash through the house trying to avoid the German’s attacks.

The sound of laughing, shouting, and other forms of yelling and loud noises echoed through the house as the two ran around.

Austria sat at the table, sipping in his coffee and reading a newspaper as everything went down. “Yeah, I know nothing happened with those two, but it’s very entertaining seeing Germany get so worked up. I have to have my fun somehow.” He said to himself.

#hetalia #fanfic #America and Germany #i had this in my drafts #i had this thought #why did i make this #lgbtq #welcome to hell #i am trash #gerame #maybe?#idk man

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