Title: Painting
Author/Artist: MoyaKite
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Prussia, little!Germany, France
Rating: G
Warnings: Uh, technically Prussia is shirtless?
Summary: Written for the following prompt:
Prussia is letting child!Germany paint on his body (e.g. on the expanse of his back) with colors because the (nation)child finds it amusing and Prussia will do anything to keep his dear brother entertained.
Bonus: Prussia is doing something else meanwhile - like reading a book - while Germany paints in silence
Bonus: other BTT members see it (France and/or Spain) and laugh at the scene
Author's Notes: Original is here.

Germany sat at the table, staring hard at his jars of paint. He'd been staring at them for a solid fifteen minutes, by Prussia's best guess; he'd noticed Germany taking them out and carefully arranging them on the table, and hadn't heard a peep out of him since.

"What's the matter?" Prussia said, leaning over to peer at Germany's face. "Your face is going to get stuck like that, y'know."

Germany only frowned harder at the paints.

"We don't have any paper," he said. Prussia sighed. Germany had turned out to be an avid painter, although he never showed anyone his work. Prussia had been trying to sneak a peek at Germany's art for ages.

"Most kids your age would try painting on the wall or something," Prussia said, grinning as Germany cringed. "Just paint on something else."

"Like what?" Germany asked, grabbing the jar of green paint and turning it over in his hands.

"Well, your big brother is so awesome, I'm willing to let you paint on me!" Prussia announced, puffing out his chest. "It'll have to be a real masterpiece, though."

"But—but—" Germany turned red, looking at the floor. "But then you'll see it. And I'm not any good at painting. I want to practice more before I show you anything."

Prussia laughed, clapping Germany on the back.

"You caught me!" he said, ruffling Germany's neatly combed hair. "All right, all right. How about this: you can paint on my back! Then there's no way that I can see it, and you still get to paint. Pretty awesome idea, right?"

"You move around too much," Germany said, but this time he looked up at Prussia, and Prussia recognized the not-quite-daring-to-hope look in his eyes.

"I've got to read a few reports on troop movements and stuff," Prussia said. "I'll just sit still and work while you have at it."

Germany hesitated for a moment, and Prussia took the opportunity to swagger over to the couch and throw off his shirt.

"Get to it!" Prussia said, sitting sideways and picking up the reports off the end table. "Your awesome big brother isn't going to wait forever."

Prussia pretended to read for a moment, but listened closely for Germany—sure enough, he heard Germany scoop up the jars and carefully walk over to him.

"Are you sure?" Germany asked, and Prussia glanced over to see him arranging the paints on the table with painstaking care. All evenly spaced, each with its own, matching brush placed in the jar at the same, careful angle, and each with its label facing precisely perpendicular to the edge of the table. Prussia almost laughed, but caught himself.

"I'm waiting," he said. Germany nodded, and Prussia turned back to read about his troops. He braced himself, but still stiffened a little when the cold, wet paint first hit his skin. At first, Prussia tried to guess what Germany was painting, but when he gave up on that pretty soon after his first attempt.

They stayed like that in silence for more than an hour. Prussia was developing a knot in his back from staying still for so long, but the paint would flake and peel at the slightest movement, so he ignored the growing discomfort. Germany seemed more content than Prussia had ever seen him—Prussia caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of his eye and caught him smiling. Prussia was grinning, too.

"Prussia!" France called, barging in without knocking. Prussia had to fight to stay put and not jump; it was the first sound he'd heard in nearly two hours. France gasped, and Prussia realized that he was standing somewhere behind Germany. "Why, Germany! I didn't know you were an artist!" Prussia heard Germany cry out, and a glance over his shoulder confirmed that Germany was flinging up his arms, trying to block any view of his painting. "It's quite a dashing likeness of you, Prussia. Oh! I wish you could see it."

"Of me?" Prussia said, a little stunned. France nodded fervently.

"Don't tell him!" Germany said, his face bright red.

"There's a caption at the top, as well!" France cried. His voice dropped as he addressed Germany. "Mon cheri, there is an ein awesome."

"Y-you see! This is why I didn't want you to look!" Germany shouted.

"Leave the kid alone, France," Prussia said, reaching back to pat Germany on the head without ruining his painting. "I'll catch you later, okay? This is a Brother and the Awesome Me Day, got it?"

"All right, all right," France sighed. "But don't keep me waiting!"

France left, but Germany didn't pick up his paints.

"Did you want lessons?" Prussia asked. Germany was silent. "You know, Italy's a pretty good painter. All that Renaissance shi—stuff." Prussia coughed. "I could give him a call some time."

"...I think I'd like that," Germany said, his voice barely audible.

"Good," Prussia grinned. "But you have to finish this painting first, right?"

Prussia pretended to read the next page of his reports; he'd already finished all of it ten minutes before France had come bursting in. After a moment, he finally felt new paint patching up the parts that had flaked away, and he beamed.

"You're the most awesome little brother, you know that?"