So now I know what to do if I ever get writer's block on this. I just go sort my Hetalia pictures… *sigh* so nerdy. But hey it worked! There's pretty butterflies outside while I'm typing. But I don't want to go play with them because then the other bugs will feast on my flesh, dragging me down into the deepest pits of hell to forever more nibble at me while I scream in the dark….

*ahem*

Sorry it took so long. In between writer's block and moving into a different place, I kinda didn't get a whole lot of time to write…

~Do not own Hetalia or Famous Last Words by MCR or Don't Trust Me by 3OH!3~

Chapter 8: Don't Trust Me

Frances stretched his legs, emitting a sigh as he sipped wine out of his glass. There was nothing like vintage wine. Especially at nine in the morning. While you were naked. He viewed nature from inside his sitting room, the large open window showing a lot of his backyard, the birds singing and the wind lazily floating through the many branches of trees. So lovely and so green.

And then his phone rang.

He sighed and grabbed his cell from across the leather couch, the material sliding across his skin and popping when one of his butt cheeks left the cushion. "Bonjour." He said into the phone, taking another sip of his wine.

"Frances…! Buddy…!"

He almost snorted in disgust. Of course. Gilbert. And he sounded nervous. "Ah, la grande Prusse. What can I do for you?" He really didn't mean it. He never wanted to do anything for anyone. But hey, what were best friends for?

"What makes you think I want anything…?" Gilbert muttered.

Frances paused, licking his lips. "You call me at nine in the morning, you call me 'buddy', and…!" He took another drink before continuing. "Antonio told me about your secretary."

"Fuckin' Antonio!" Gilbert hissed.

Frances chuckled. "So what can I do for you, mon ami?"

"Well…" Gilbert sighed. "What did Antonio tell you?"

"He said something about how you really liked this one…blah blah…completely obsessed…you left a poker game…"

"I'm not obsessed!"

"You left free beer and cigarettes to go pout by yourself in your apartment." Frances pointed. Egotistical chienne….

"Nh." Gilbert made a noncommittal noise. "It…progressed from there."

"Oh?" Frances felt a small smile spread across his face, his interest piqued. "How far?"

"We sorta slept together."

Frances scowled. Why was Gilbert being so bashful about it? "'Sort of'?"

"Well, she was kind of with my brother and I kind of freaked out and we…kindofhadhatesexonmyfloor…?"

The Frenchmen sighed, setting his glass down and covering his eyes. "Gilbert, you impatient bastard."

"I know! I screwed up! Whatever, it was awesome either way. And she's at least talking to me now. In fact, she agreed to a date."

"Is this where I come in?" Frances asked dryly.

"Yeah, actually. Could you and Antonio come with?"

"Why?" Gilbert apparently cared very much about this girl. Usually he'd want Frances and Antonio to shove off when it came to the German son of a bitch's women.

"Just so I don't do anything stupid like fuck her in public and ruin it." Gilbert said casually. "That and it's not a carnival without the three of us drunk and crashing it."

Frances smiled and exhaled shortly, amused. "Oui,this is true." He sighed. "Alright. Tonight? What time?"

"Depends. Did you want to get dinner?"

"Not any of your damn German cuisine." Frances said in irritation. "We're letting votre bien-aimé pick this time. We'll go at four."

"Fine." Gilbert snapped back. "But what if she picks German cuisine anyway?"

"Then I'm going to have hate sex with her so we can go someplace decent." Frances said and smirked as Gilbert growled into the phone. "Don't worry. I wanted to get my hands on Antonio's….on Antonio for a while now and this is the perfect opportunity. Au revoir."

"Bye." Gilbert hung up and shook his head, smiling. He could never understand why Antonio and Frances made it their policy to swing both ways. He couldn't ever touch a man like that. He glanced around his apartment and ran a hand through his hair. Where was Gilbird? The little yellow bird had staid in his room the night Erin had been here, not even making a sound. That was good. He wasn't sure if she liked birds.

Tonight was going to be fun though. Frances, Antonio, and himself always made any party fun. Especially when drunk. Frances was even going to be pre-drunk. He always had way too many drinks before four. He picked up his phone again and dialed Erin.

She picked it up on the fourth ring. "Hello, Vargas orphanage. Want a child?" She sounded abused and tired, and from the sound of screaming in the back, so did her children.

"I'd rather take you." He smirked. "All the time."

"Whore. What's the plans for tonight?"

"Get a babysitter and expect me around…oh…three thirty-ish."

"Alright." Erin hesitated. "Gilbert?"

"Hm?"

"What are we doing?"

"Dinner and the carnival with a few of my friends."

Erin quietly exhaled in relief. "Oh." She didn't want to think about what would happen if they were left alone to their own devices.

"Sorry, did you just want it to be you and me?" He sounded legitimately concerned.

This touched her. He was actually going through the motions to appeal to her romantically. She had been expecting him to be bewildered that the sex wasn't great enough to woo her into his arms for an extended period of time. "No." She said softly, then caught herself, "I mean-! Well, I think it's nice that we're going out with more people…" She laughed weakly. "I haven't group dated in a long time." Shit, I called it a date…!

He seemed to notice this too, his tone being ten times more pleased and confident then she would've liked. "You'll enjoy it. Talk to you later, babe."

"Bye." She hung up, unable to bring herself to call him a cozy pet name. This was wrong, something told her as she slowly set down the phone, frowning. This was cheating on West. Yet, Erin was beginning to understand that she was unsatisfied by her relationship with the younger brother. West was divine in some ways. Romantic, charming, holding intellectual conversations seemed to be his forte. However, keeping their relationship a secret had fudged the lines as to what exactly was their relationship. Erin wasn't sure now. He'd never laid claim over her, besides confessing his love for her every now and then (usually during a heated round of sex) but everyone said this now-a-days. Erin needed more then words from her broad lover.

And that's where Gilbert came in, she supposed. The elder brother was ruthless and never obscure about the tie between them. It was only through a large amount of pleading that Erin managed to convince him to keep what happened between them a secret. He had agreed, stiffly. He was stubborn, hot-headed, and tended to lean towards a more party animal type of attitude. He took what he wanted and didn't give a damn about other people's opinions.

Except for hers.

Erin pursed her lips as she got the kids ready for a nap. She could tell he still cared about what she thought, though he had made it perfectly care that he didn't give a flying fuck about the other women he'd been through like so many dominoes. It was ever present, especially in the hate sex they'd participated in on his floor the other night. Erin let her eyes wander to the floor as she closed the door to the bedroom, feeling a familiar blush creep onto her features. She had never intended to analyze the initial act, yet memories kept popping up unbidden into her head. She'd been initially angry with him. She felt cheated and tricked and dirty. Yet the more she replayed him worshipping her body, torturing her strangled confession out of her on the carpet, she realized he wouldn't have done so if he didn't think – didn't care if she needed the extra attention. She bit her lip, a familiar tremble reaching her limbs. She'd be lying if she said she didn't wish it would happen again. And again. And again. For once in her life, she fantasized about having sex with someone. There was just something so surreal about his mouth on her body, lapping at every sensitive area she owned…

She broke her train of thought with a shake of her head and pursued a more appropriate activity – cleaning her apartment.

~*FLW*~

It was around four thirty when Gil finally arrived at Erin's house. He sighed in irritation, quite sure God was punishing him for taking his brother's woman. Antonio had come down with the flu, being violently sick. Francis backed out at last minute for God knows what. Then Gil had received a call from his grand old friend, Ivan Brabinsky. Ivan wanted a meeting. Now. No, not later. Now. So Gil had been forced to humor the Russian, knowing full well what would happen if he didn't. Ivan had quite the temper, so he had heard.

He cleared his throat, bracing himself for an angry woman and explainations springing to his lips with promises to right the situation. But this time, he'd mean it. He knocked on the door.

No answer.

He knocked again and eventually he heard footsteps coming to the door.

Erin opened the door, hair a bit mussed and the outfit she had undoubtedly been waiting for him in rumpled and not straightened. Her eyes widened in shock, then anger, then exasperation. "West, your brother showed up."

Gilbert froze. Dammit. Why didn't he think of that? Of course. If Francis was home, so was West. He plastered a fake smile on his face. "Oh. West is home already?"

Erin stepped aside and let him in as West rose and joined Erin by the door.

"Hey, Gil. I heard you were going to take Erin somewhere with a few friends." West was calm outwardly, but Gil knew he was treading on some dangerous ground.

"You work the employees too hard. Thought she could come along with me and the guys to the carnival." Gil said half-heartedly. No matter what Gil said, West would never approve of his crazy friends. Hell, he didn't even approve of Gil.

"Shall we all go out to dinner?" West offered generously.

An awkward look crossed Erin's face.

"No." Gilbert said without even thinking. He blinked out of his trance and clarified hastily. "I…Ivan and I are going for a few drinks, I just remembered. Sorry." He turned away and left before either could say anything.

God, how stupid could he get? Of course she'd always choose West over him. Gilbert stomped outside of Erin's apartment building, thoroughly resolving to drink and whore this night away.

~*FLW*~

Erin felt a tinge of guilt seeing Gilbert run off like that. After all, she'd really cared about him. But she didn't trust him any farther then she could throw him, and after her ex husband she just needed someone she could lean on. And West was just that kind of person.

"Well. It seems I foiled somebody's plans." West murmured, wrapping his arms around Erin's waist and burying his face in her hair.

She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. "That's alright."

"God, I missed you." He said, nuzzling her neck. He pushed her dark hair out of the way and started lightly kissing her neck, eliciting all sorts of noises out of her.

She hurriedly shut the door before the neighbors could see or complain. "I missed you too." But not too much. Her conscience said acidly. She flushed with shame, hoping he wouldn't notice.

"I'm not that hungry for food." He said into her collar. "Mind if we stay in for dinner?"

"Cardboard pizza it is." She said and gasped as he hoisted her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist unconsciously.

He pulled down the collar of her t shirt and sucked at the base of her neck, one hand grabbing her ass and the other clutching her thigh.

"H-horny much?" She rasped.

He chuckled. "I missed you, liebste…" He kissed her heatedly. "I missed you a lot…"

Gilbert flashed through Erin's mind like a storm just passing over. There was a surge of heat (from shame or longing, she couldn't tell) when she thought of him on top of her, demanding submission…

She put him in the back of her mind as West sat on a couch, kneeling on the cushions over him. She ran her hands through his hair, pulling it from its gelled place. "Let me put something better on…" She murmured, taking in his bottom lip between her teeth.

His hands tightened on her thighs and she smiled a bit, slowly retreating from him. He gave her a smoldering look as she got off him and retreated to her bedroom. She closed the door and pulled off the t shirt, slipping off the jeans as well and checking herself in the mirror. The marks of her sin had faded away and she stood, without evidence, staring at her reflection. God, she wished she could tell him. She bit her lip. However crushing the guilt, she didn't regret that night in Gilbert's apartment. He'd made her feel like her old self again, if only for an hour or so. Not a single mother with two kids and hopeless will to survive, but the hot and wild girl she'd been before all hell had broken loose. Damn, had it felt good.

Erin turned away from the mirror and went back to the door.

West was sitting on the couch, smoking a cigarette with a plate balanced on the arm of the couch like an ash tray. His shirt was unbuttoned, showing off his incredibly muscled torso. With his hair ruffled and a relaxed on his face, he seemed so different from inside the office.

And so hot.

Erin swallowed visibly. "I thought it was my job to turn you on, not the other way around."

He smiled at her and put out the cigarette. "You do that every day anyway." He looked her up and down. "Especially like that."

"When did you start smoking?" She straddled him again and he put his hands on her thighs again.

"In France. I though I'd try it." He shrugged. "You hate it?"

"It's a little sexy, I must admit." She murmured, distracted as he trailed his nose over her breasts. "You can't do it around the kids."

"Wouldn't dream of it." He murmured and bit her softly through the fabric of her bra.

~*FLW*~

Ivan approached his drunk silver haired prey cautiously. There was nothing more dangerous to his plans then a volatile victim. He plastered his usual smile on his face as the red spotlight basked his face in an unearthly glow. "Gilbert! What're you doing here?"

Indeed, what was Gilbert doing here? Ivan had tracked him down to a stripper club in the redlight district. Hardly the place for a man so irrevocably in love to be.

Gilbert didn't take his eyes off the woman spinning around the pole erotically as Ivan sat next to him. "I'm drinking everything the fuck away." He took another drink. "You know what I hate, Ivan? Women. They are the shit and they know it. So they fuckin' destroy you."

Ivan wrinkled his nose. Goddamn was he drunk. "Are we talking about the elusive Mrs. Vargas?"

"Damn straight!" Gilbert yelled. "I totally just…fucked her while my brother was gone and she wanted it, you know?" He said with a slur. "But then she turns around and just…whoosh…" He threw his arm out, almost smacking the forty year old businessman next to him. "Doesn't like me no more, ya know?"

"Ah." Ivan thanked whatever powers that be that he had gotten the actually story earlier before approaching Gilbert. "Well, my friend…" He threw an arm companionably around Gilbert's shoulders. "…I think I can help you."

Gilbert looked at him shrewdly. "You can…?"

"For a price." Ivan offered him a viper smile and threw a twenty at the stripper generously. He pulled Gilbert away, walking out of the establishment. "For a small, small price, my friend…"