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PrussiaxReader Nice Guys Finish Last Part 1

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I held out the bouquet to her.  I was so sure that she'd return my feelings; the way we were always together, the way she'd hold my hand, the way she was always smiling when we were together.  But I was so wrong.
"I'm sorry, Gil, but I'm already dating someone."
"What?"  My arm lowered.  She'd mentioned a guy by the name of Rodrich a few times before, but I couldn't believe that they would-
"Gil, Gilbert, You're a great friend, and any girl who gets you will be lucky to have you.  It's just not me."  She smiled sadly as she said it.  She slowly started backing away before quietly saying good-bye and running off, no doubt to be with that Rodrich guy.  I swallowed as I watched her beautiful long brown hair bounce behind her.  If any girl would be lucky to have me, then why wasn't she?  I threw the flowers on the floor and went home.  Strangely enough, I didn't hate her. Or him for that matter.  I hated myself.  It wasn't the first time I'd been rejected, with those exact same words.
"You're a great friend."  What did that even mean?  Why?  Why was it that everytime I found someone I thought I could be with, she'd always say, "friends!"  Why couldn't I...


~

Gilbert bolted up.  He looked around at the subway filled with random people.  He sighed disheartedly.  He glanced at his watch. Three more stops til he would be at work, early, as usual.  He was the perfect worker.  No family, that is, no wife or children, no hobbies, no social life.  He was diligent, punctual, and moral in all things.  The subway screeched to a halt and he hopped off.  He straightened his collar as he stepped through the tall glass building's doors and made his way up the elevator to his cubicle.
He ran his hands through his white hair and sighed.  He hated that stupid dream.  It reminded him of all the times he'd failed when he was younger.  He shook out the thoughts as his boss, Mr. Bonnefoy dumped a huge stack of papers in his Inbox.
"I need those filled out by tonight, okay?"
"Sure thing, Mr. Bonnefoy."  Time to get to work.

~

To be completely honest, Gilbert didn't even really know what it was his company did.  It had something to do with computers and chips, but he only saw the paperwork end of it.  And while we're on the subject of honesty, he hated his job.  He hated his work, he hated his boss, and he hated the stupid black and white papers that formed his boring, silent prison.  But the pay was pretty good, and he doubted he'd be able to find work anywhere else.

He leaned back in his uncomfortable palstic rolly-chair and rubbed his writing shoulder.  He'd managed to finish, yeah, but it was half-past six, and the next subway didn't leave until eight.  Mr. Bonnefoy, cockily walked up to him, took the papers and wished Gil a good weekend.  He paused and turned when Gilbert's reply was less than enthusiastic.

"Gilbert, do you by any chance have a girlfriend?"
"What? No, sir, but I don't see how that's-"
"And I'll bet you don't have any plans for tonight, either, do you?"
"Why would I?"
"It's Friday!  The night where hard workers like us should be out having fun!"  Gilbert almost laughed when Mr. Bonnefoy said "like us."  From Gilbert's understanding, the promiscuous Frenchman had a habit of talking to his various girlfriends on the company line for hours on end.  He'd heard many of his coworkers complain about it on many different occasions.

"So are you going to join me or not?"
"Join you where?"  Gilbert hadn't been listeneing.
"At the club!  You need to losen up.  Plus, I've been looking for a new wing-man!"
"Wing-man?"
"You don't know what a wing-man is?" Mr. Bonnefoy's disbelief was evident.  Gilbert felt stupid, but being the man he was, he admitted his ignorance.  "Tell me Gilbert, have you ever been in a relationship?"  Gilbert shook his head.  "Been to a club?"  Another shake.  "Gotten drunk?" Another shake.  "That's it, we're going out tonight!"  Mr. Bonnefoy put his arm around Gilbert's shoulders, picked up his breifcase and tried pulling Gil towards the elevator.

"Mr. Bonnefoy, I'm not really-"
"Call me Francis."
"Uh, okay, Francis, I'm pretty tired, and I'm not good with the whole club scene."
"And that's why we're going."  It was obvious that here would be no more protesting.

~

"Alright, Gilbert, since this is your first time at a club, I'll be your wing-man, how does that sound?"
"I still don't know what that even means."  Francis chuckled a little before trying to explain.
"It's a friend who points out all the good things about the other guy to hook him up with a girl.  Or guy, if that's what you like."  Gilbert couldn't believe what he was hearing.  He didn't really even want to be there.

As stated previously, he hated his boss.  But he, being the pushover he was, had let himself get talked into this.  He looked around the dark hazy club.  Electronic music with no apperent rythm or melody pounded its bass into the floor.  There were drunk girls passed out on almost every single one of the couches, and even more being passed around the writhing pulsating crowd of people dancing in the darkness.  Francis ordered another round of drinks.

"So, Gilbert, before we get you settled with a girl, you need to tell me a few things."
"Like?"  He just wanted to go home, maybe call his brother, and then go to sleep.
"Why haven't you ever gotten yourself a girl? Hmm?"
"I've tried, but it's not exactly easy for me."
"How so?"
"I don't know.  I always get told I'm such a "good friend.""  Francis nodded and smiled knowingly.

"Ahh...the friend zone.  Poor guy, I really feel for you."
"Hmph."  Gilbert wasn't really sure he needed sympathy from this guy, but decided that for the sake of his job, he should keep his mouth shut.
"You know what your problem is?"
"Enlighten me."  Okay, now Gilbert was getting pissed.
"You're too nice."
"I don't follow."
"Women don't want nice guys, they like their men wild and untamed.  They crave excitement and problems."
"Problems?"
"Haven't you always noticed that women stick to their men longer the more often they compain about them?  Women love having something to complain about!"  He said it like it was some sort of fact.

"I'm not sure I'm comfortable with this anymore."  Gibert reached for his coat, but Francis pulled him back down onto his chair.
"You see those two girls over there?" Francis pointed to a pair of very pretty young girls.  One had a blonde bob cut with a hair-band keeping the puffy tresses out of her face.  The other had dark mocha colored skin with two long ebony colored pigtails held in place by some bright red ribbons.

"Yeah, what about them?"
"How do you feel about the blonde one?"
"Well, she's pretty, I guess," he said uncertainly.
"Perfect."  Some how, Francis had manged to get them to sit down at the table without even getting up.

~

Not even an hour later, Francis was driving all four of them to a hotel.  The blonde girl, who Gilbert had learned was called Bella, had been attatched to his arm for most of the night.  She was pretty drunk, but had begun to sober up.  When Francis encouraged Gilbert to go into the hotel room with the bubbly talkitive girl, Gilbert had frowned, but done as instructed.  And that was how he ended up sitting on the bed awkwardly as Bella poured out her life story too him.

"You know, Gil," he stiffened when she used a nick name.  How could she do that when they barely knew each other?  "You know, you're a really good listener.  I wish I had a friend like you."
"Yeah, thanks."
"No really!  i mean, I'd tell Michelle all this stuff, but she gets distracted and starts talking about herself, you know?"
"Well thanks."  Gilbert swallowed hard thinking back to that dream he'd had on the subway.
"You're a good friend."

He clenched his fists and moved to the couch with a pillow.  Bella was already fast asleep on the bed.  She hadn't even pulled the covers down.  Gil shook his head.  This was so disgusting.  How could Francis do it every weekend.  Treating women like objects that had a specific perameter for feeling things was sick.  But there was a small nagging in the back of his head.

What if Fracis was right?  He'd only been nice to women because he thought that maybe if he treated them well, they'd like him.  And they did; just never in the right way.  He fell to a horrible, tortured sleep on the lumpy, slightly smelly hotel couch.

~

"Bye bye, girls~!" Francis called out of the car window.  The tan girl blew him a kiss as he drove off.
"So...?"  Francis said waiting for an answer.
"So what?"
"What did you two get up to last night?"
"We talked."
"You...talked?"  Francis was having a hard time understanding this.  In his mind, girl plus hotel bed plus alcohol equals sex.  But apperently not this time.
"Actually, she talked.  I listened."
"..."
"Well, I got her number."
"That's a start."  Francis didn't seem to hopeful.
"She told me to call her if I ever need to talk about something, and that I was a great friend."  Francis slapped his hand over his face, causing him to almost crash into the stopped van in front of him.

"How do you manage to do that?"
"I don't know."
"I even went to all that hard work to set her up for you too!  Although, the night wasn't a total loss.  That little island girl was quite something!"
"Do you even know her name?"
"uh,"  Francis began racking his brain, "Maria?"
"Her name was Michelle."
"Eh, doesn't matter.  I won't be seeing her any time soon."  Gilbert wanted to hit this guy.  "You gonna take your girl up on that offer?"

"What?"
"Are you gonna call her?   Make a relationship out of it?"
"No."
"But why not?"
"Turn here, and because I don't like her.  She was really rude and kind of two-faced."
"Oh, that's just how women are.  You've got to stop looking at them like that."
'You mean like people?' Gilbert thought to himself as he leaned his head against the cool glass window.
"Well, it's settled then.  From now on, we'll be going out every Friday until you get the hang of this thing."
"What?!  Why!"  Francis laughed.  Now Gilbert really wanted to slug the guy.
"Because, you're obviously in need of my help, plus, you seem pretty trust-worthy."
"Why does that matter?"
"Stick around and you'll find out."

Gilbert trudged up the steps to his apartment and went straight to sleep upon reaching his bed.  For some reason, he kept going out with Francis every Friday, just like Francis had said he would.  He didn't notice himself change.

~

"Gil, I'd like you to meet Toni.  He's a big business partner, and you'l be seeing a lot more of him."
Gil grinned cockily as he shook the Spaniard's hand.  This guy seemed pretty nice, if not a complete airhead.
"Pleasure," he said.
"No, it's all mine," Toni replied with silly smile plastered on his face.
"Unfortunately, Toni's got someone, so he'll be winging for us tonight."
"More girls for us, eh, Fran?"  He let out a slippery laugh and the other two joined in.
In the last year, Gilbert had been completely taken over by Francis's teachings.  He'd risen in the company, now being only a few levels below his old boss.  He had his own underlings, his own office, and most importantly, he had his own crew of girls waiting for him to call.  He'd become much more outgoing, confident, and just "happier" in general, but it had come at a price.  Not that he'd noticed.

"Plus, I don't think I'll be needing a wing-man tonight.  I've already got one I'm going after."  He stood from the table and walked over to the shiny black bar.  A lone girl was sitting there on the tacky black pleather stools in a fitted blue dress.  Gil went and stood at the bar a few feet away from her.  He pretended not to notice her and ordered a beer.  He'd developed quite the taste for beer in his time with France.  Sometimes it bordered on addiction, but that was beside the point.  He looked over at the girl, as if only just noticing her.

"Hey, do you need a drink or something?"  He asked it without a hint of ulterior motive.  She frowned at him and lifted her arm at him.  There was a neon green bracelet with black typ spelling out "designated driver."  She went back to staring at the glassy bar top and drumming her fingernails on it.  This was a first.  Gil had never met such an unhappy girl sitting at the bar.  Nor had he met a designated driver who hadn't taken him up on his offer of a drink, regardless of their wrist-band.  Gil sat on the stool next to her.

"Hey bub, you wanna leave me alone?"  Her voice held a lot of anger in it.
"What's your problem?  I'm just trying to make friendly conversation."
"No, you're trying to get into my pants."
"You're not wearing pants."
"Touche."  she sighed and finished the conversation.  But Gil wasn't done.  He leaned over the bar to try and see her face which she was hiding behind her hair.
"What's got you down?"
"Are you still talking to me?"
"Yeah?"  She rooled her eyes and called for the bar tender.
"Do you have any soda?"
"Nope."
"Damn it all."
"You still didn't answer my question."
"You're not gonna go away until I tell you, are you?"
"Nope."  he smirked.  Regardless of her unexpected first reaction, she was just like any other girl.

"Fine.  I was dragged here by my co-worker.  That's it.  I just don't want to be here."  She grabbed her purse and began to get up to leave.
"Wait, where are you going?"
"Away."
"Why?"
Because I don't exactly need guys like you talking to me, okay?  You're kind of an ass."
"Aww, that's mean!" he said playfully.
"That's exactly what I'm talking about."  She started walking towards the crowd of spastically dancing people.
"Wait, what's your name?"
"Aw what the hell.  It's ________."  And then she was gone.  He quickly lost sight of her in the arms and heads of the dancers.  Gil made his way back to the table, still loking for that girl.

"Ouch, That must have been the first one to reject you in what, three weeks now?" Francis consoled him.
"Eh, no big deal.  I'll just head after that one."  Gilbert nodded towards a girl who was having issues walking in a straight line.
"Nice choice," Francis laughed.  Gil smirked too, but really, he was still thinking about _______.  She was really pretty as he thought about it.  He kind of hoped he'd see her again later.  Maybe try again.

~

Gil walked past Francis's glass executive office on his way to the bathroom and noticed a strange sight.  Two tanned ment in expensive looking suits were seated opposite of Francis.  Gil's boss noticced him staring and motioned for him to come in.  As he opened the door, the two men turned to face him.  He was a little surprised to see how similar they looked; they were probably twins, he decided.

"Gil, these are the Vargas brothers.  They work for Toni."  Gil nodded.  It had only been a few months since he'd met Toni, but the three of them had become close friends in that time.  The two men just stared at Gil for a moment before tuning back to Mr. Bonnefoy.
"So do you want us to fucking take the stuff or not?"  the tanner of the men said to Francis.

"Eh," Francis thought for a moment, "Not now.  How about next week.  Thursday sound good?"
"Sounds like a plan!  Come on Lovi!  I'll bet Toni's worried sick about you!"  The lighter slightly shorted man grabbed his brother by the arm and tugged him out of the office.  Cursing and crying could be heard as they left.  Gil raised an eyebrow at Francis.  His boss just laughed and shook his head.

"I mean I figured Toni's workers would be a little strange, but thry were just..."
"Yes, I know, but they're good at what they do."
"And what is it that they do, exactly?"  Gilbert could tell Francis had been hiding something for awhile, but hadn't been able to find a way to bring it up.  He suspected that the brothers were involved in whatever Francis was planning.
"Oh, this and that."  Yup.  They were definitely involved.  Gilbert snorted and sat down in the chair that the smaller one had occupied earlier.

"is Toni still meeting us at the usual place?"
"Oh, I'm sorry friend, Toni and I have other plans tonight.  Big business opportunity that we just can't pass up."
"Fine, fine.  I'll just have to get some for both of you.  Or rather, just you.  Who is it that Toni's seeing anyway?  He doesn't seem like the type to stick with one girl for so long."
"It's not a girl," Francis said smirking.
"Huh.  Well that explains some things."  Gilbert had picked up on the vibes he'd gotten from Antonio, but passed it off as nothing important.  And he was right. It wasn't anything important.  "Well if you two are gonna be all secretive about everything, I'll just be on my way."  Francis waved him off as he sat behind the white modern style desk and tried to do some paperwork.  Recently, he and Toni had been passing up on more and more club runs.  Whatever.  More girl for him.

~

He'd seen her again.  That girl that'd so rudely turned him don a few months ago.  For the life of him he couldn't remember her name.  He shook his head and approached her anyways.  She seemed to be in a better mood than last time. She was chatting aimiably with the bar tender.  He leaned on the bar in almost the same way he had the first time hed seen her.
"Oh hey.  I remember you," he said.  Her smile dropped when she saw who was addressing her.

"Oh God, it's this guy," he heard her whisper under her breath.  "What do you want?"
"Nothing.  I was just getting a drink.  You want one?"
"Are you ever gonna learn?"  she lifted up her arm.  Sure enough, there was that cursed bracelet.  "Unless you've got a Sprite or something on you, I'm afraid, I have no reason to deal with you."  She turned back to the bar.  He wasn't gonna let this one go.  She was different somehow.  He sat next to her.

"Why are you always so grumpy?"
"Because I hate assholes like you."  She didn't pull any punches.
"I'm not that much of an asshole."
"Yeah, you kind of are."
"No i'm not!"  He was getting a little frustrated, but he covered it up with a laugh.  He hadn't had a conversation that went to a place other than sex in a long time.
"Seriously?"  she was smiling slightly, looking at him from the tops of her eyes.  Wow, she had pretty eyes.
"uh, um," he swallowed, "what were we talking about again?"  he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.  This was wierd.  She laughed.

"How much of an asshole you are."
"Oh, right.  Well, I'm not."  She sighed.
"I liked it better when you were stuttering," she said with a slight smile about her lips.  Gilbert swallowed again.
"Um, I-" he stopped and got quiet.
"You what?"
"I don't know."  What was happening to him?  He felt the need to talk to this girl, but he didn't have anthing to say.
"Okay, you're not an asshole, you're just weird."
"I can live with that."

Somehow, he managed to create a conversation with this girl.  He still didn't remember her name, but what did that matter?  He felt kind of strange when he left the bar and started walking home.  He couldn't believe how much time he'd spent talking to her.  By the time her friends had come to have her take them home, it was already past the time Gilbert would have been in a hotel with his girl or girls of the week.

"What is wrong wih me?" he said aloud.  He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket and tried walking faster.  From out of no where, a voice in his head whispered, "and you don't even remember her name."  He shook his head.  He didn't like that voice.  It reminded him of before.  He just quieted his mind with thinking about how good that shirt had made her chest look and kept walking.  Much better.

~

"Oi!  White hair!  Where's the stupid ass Francy-pants?"  The Vargas man, who you'd learned was named Lovino, asked harshly.
"How should I know?"
"Aren't you two fuck-buddies or something?  You should know where he is."  Gilbert ddecided not to hear that first part.
"He's probably out with Toni discussing "business."" Gil said bitterly.
"He isn't.  I'd know if they were.  Toni's in his office at the other end of town taking care of some bookkeeping.  Francis was supposed to be here to give us the stuff."
"I'm sorry, I'm not a part of whatever super-secret plans our bosses have been hatching up."
"Hmph."
"And why do you know exactly where Toni is and exactly what he's doing?"  Lovino's cheeks lit up in bright red.

"B-because it's my job God damn it!"  Gil just smiled and went back to his mountain of new paper work.  Connections were beginning to form between the dots in his head.
"Where's your brother anyways?" he said nonchalantly.  He didn't look up from his papers.
"Out with some fucking German asshole."  Prussia bristled slightly. He himself was German, but decided to let it go since Lovino was like that with everyone.
"Hm.  Interesting."  Lovino began pacing the room.  Gilbert finally looked up.  "Are you gonna keep bothering me until Fran gets back?"  Lovino glared at him and then went back to pacing.  Gil rubbed his temples.  Francis certainly too his time getting back to the office.  That was for sure.

When he finally did saunter into his classy looking modern themed glass box, he stunk the rest of the office up with the smell of booze and whore.  Lovino held his nose as he entered the office.  Gil watched from his door way as their conversation escalated from fervent words to shouts and violent hand gestures.  Francis finally pushed Lovino from across his desk.  Lovino reached into his suit jacket, pulled out a shiny black gun and held it to Francis's forehead.  Gilbert watched in horror.  There was no way he could help his friend, and even if he could, he'd probably end up dead too.  For all his quirks, that Lovino guy didn't shit around when it came to business.  Gilbert watched him say a few things before Francis sat down in his nice leather officce chair and began opening drawers.  He stared cross eyed at the revolver the entire time.

Gilbert silently wondered if Feliciano, Lovino's brother, was the same way.  He cautiously watched Lovino replace the gun in his jacket and take the envelope Francis shakily held out to him.  As Lovino pushed open the glass door, he opened the envelope, checking to see if everything he needed was there, and then headed towards the elevator.  Francis shuddered and sank into his chair, passing a hand over his face and into his long blond hair.

"What was that about?"  Francis nearly jumped out of his skin at Gilbert's question.
"Oh God, it's only you Gil."  Francis panted a few times, trying to calm his breathing.  Man did it smell in there.
"So.  what was that about?"
"N-nothing."
"Okay, I'm getting pretty sick and tired of this shit.  A "worker" of Antonio's doesn't just charge in here and hold one of the tops of a very prestigeous company at gunpoint for an envelope.  It just doesn't happen.  What's going on."  He didn't ask this time.  He demanded it.
"Gil, I can't tell you yet.  I want to, really, I do, and I was going to, but...some things came up."
"Right, whatever."  Gil walked out of the smelly room with his pride hurt, grabbed his stuff, and stalked out of the stupid building.  He needed a drink.
I know. I should be working on requests. And I was working on them until a song popped up on my playlist and I was like, Oh god, this is perfect. MUST. WRITE. FANFIC. The funniest part about it was that I discovered that song through a Prussia AMV, and it just...worked. I don't know. It just happened. This was also supposed to be a one shot, but there will be one or two more parts, depending on how stuff goes.
Okay, I just want to say that this sort of is/isn't a song fic. Mainly because I just refuse to read songfics, so I feel weird saying this is one. (Song fics just aren't my thing, no offense to those who write them or like them. Just not my cup of tea.) SO I'm just going to say this was inspired by a song. Also if you can guess the song it was inspired by, you get a free internet cookie. Seriously. It'll be all freshly pixelated and everything. The song was correctly guessed as "Nice Guys Finish Last" by Cobra Starship. It's a pretty good song and I'd recommend hearing it once or twice before conitnuing the series.
Please don't kill me for loads and loads of OOC Prussia. Please, I'm begging you. T^T Also please don't kill me if you haven't gotten your request yet. I'm actually trying to gt plots and such worked out. So think of this as entertainment until I can figure all that out.

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Ink--Rainbow's avatar
Nice guys finish last~ lol like da nigahiga song? XD this is so great! keep writting plz!

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GILBERT MANAGED TO KEEP A JOB?! WOW ;A;