It was simply supposed to be a quiet evening. Or at least as quiet as it could get when in the company of a certain Prussian man and his brother, which was to say not quiet at all, due to constant bickering.
The three of you were sprawled over the couch like discarded rag dolls, limbs draped behind the back of the couch and over the armrests.
It was nearly one in the morning, and you were barely aware of what movie you were watching thanks to your tired state, but two things made themselves prominent to you.
The first thing was how heavy gilbert was, with his torso stretched halfway across yours, crushing your lungs and limiting your movement.
And the second was how completely drunk off his ass Ludwig was.
Apparently, sometime during the third or fourth movie, the German man had helped himself to the liquor cabinet due to his lack of interest in the film that you had picked out, and he continued to help himself until Gilbert had to put a lock on the cabinet.
This interested you, because whenever one of the guys suggested you all go to a bar together, Ludwig always volunteered to be the designated driver, and ended up not drinking a drop of alcohol and getting everyone home safely. And now, as he slurred the German national anthem to himself with a smile on his face, swaying to the song he knew so well, you could only try to contain your sleep giggles as you watched this amusing display.
Gilbert stirred in his sleep and accidentally kicked his brother in the ribs while adjusting himself, also squeezing you tighter, causing you to be barely able to breathe.
"Ludwig," you whisper yelled, trying to get your friends attention, which you did. He turned to you with a dazed smile
"Ja, ______? Was kann ich für dich tun?"
You only jabbed your finger against Gilberts side, and although he was drunk, Ludwig got the message and pried the Prussian off you, allowing you to gulp large amounts of much needed air.
"Thanks."
"Es ist nichts."
He got up and his balance faltered for a second, but he gently laid his brother against the opposite side of the couch. Then, just as you thought you could relax, Ludwig took Gilberts previous position, crushing your poor lungs once again with his strength as he buried his face in your shoulder and laid on top of you with his legs curled tightly against himself. It was quite ridiculous, because he was too tall to be in a position like that, and his legs were almost off the couch.
"Ich bin so müde," the German yawned, and you just glared at the ceiling. You were not happy at being back to square one.
"What the hell, man, come on," you wheezed, wiggling around a bit, but your efforts were fruitless. Looks like you were staying this way.
"Can't you get off me?"
For the first time in all your years, you heard your friend, Ludwig Beilschmidt, whine.
"Aber du bist so bequem, mein sußkartoffel."
"You goddamn potato man," you sighed, turning your head to the side, resigned to your fate of being used as a teddy bear.
"Guten nacht, _____," was his only reply, and then nothing.
"Yeah yeah, I can't wait to see your face tomorrow when you find out you called me your sweet potato,"
____________//
If I have, in any way, made a complete disgrace of the German language, please let me know. I'm so sorry for being an incompetent tomato child.
What Ludwig has said in Deutsch:
1. Yes, ______? What can I do for you?
2. Its nothing.
3. I'm so tired.
4. But your so comfortable, my sweet potato.
5. Good night, ______.
