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(Platonic Gerpol) Unstoppable Force Meets An Imovable Object

"Beach drinks... are kind of shit."

Germany glanced up from where he had been staring into his glass flute, trying to figure out what kind of liquid he was even putting into his body at that point. Brows slightly furrowed, he blinked at Poland a few times before mumbling, "Was?"

"Beach drinks are shit," Poland repeated, firmer this time, nodding as well. The look would have been almost convincing, had Poland's tie not been lose around his shoulders and his shirt's topmost button undone. His blonde hair was damp and stringy from the mist sprung up from the crashing waves just a few feet away, but he had refused to leave his spot on the rocks, and, well, Germany hadn't been able to tell him no.

"Why do you say that?" Germany questioned, placing his own beverage to the side as he shifted to get a bit more comfortable on the smooth, sea-beaten rock he had chosen to sit on. 

Poland blew a strand of hair out of his face before replying, "They taste like fruit and they don't get me going. If I wanted to get tipsy off of fruit, I'd just go eat some fucking apples off the ground."

"They don't get you going, huh? Then why're you..." Germany waved his hand in a vague gesture towards Poland's body before slumping back on his elbows, "...Like that?"

"It's hot," His company complained, rolling his eyes, "You did it too."

"Yes, it is a bit warm, but I just rolled up my sleeves and loosened my tie. You might as well have just worn a tank top underneath that and discarded it."

Poland gave him a deadpan look. Germany briefly had the thought that his friend's face reminded him of a toad before Poland said, "Well, if you hadn't sprung this outing on me at the last minute, I might have done just that."

"It's your own fault for not expecting me to ask you, and you ARE the one who accepted."

Poland leaned over and lightly slapped him on the leg, nose scrunching up a bit when he felt the wetness of it. "I thought you were supposed to be a neat man, Niemcy," He teased as he rubbed his hand off on his shirt. Germany groaned and let his head drop back to stare at the sky. "I am, but I'm not THAT anal to keep my pants dry at the fucking beach."

He didn't quite catch what Poland said next, though he very much suspected it was a "Hah, you just said anal" joke, or something along those same lines. His attention was entirely focused on the tranquil sky above his head. 

Pink, orange, and purple all swirled together in tandem to create a scene that left Germany with an indescribable feeling in his very bones. The clouds weren't quite grey, bits of color leaking through, though it was hard to pinpoint exactly what kind of color it was, as they were thin-spread. Farthest in the distance were the most powerful colors- Vibrant yellow-orange and deep blue were kept apart by their mix, never able to touch, never able to be closer, always to be separated and alone.

"...Niemcy?" Poland questioned, sliding over to his side, snapping him out of his daze. "Something wrong?" He gently nudged Germany's shoulder with his own, a slight frown tugging the corners of his lips down. Germany nudged him back, and then shrugged.

"I don't think anything is wrong, no. I was just watching the sky." He replied. Poland gave him an odd look before glancing up as well.

"...Woah," He breathed, a shine to his eyes that hadn't been there before, "It's..."

"Yeah."

The two lapsed into the same comfortable silence they had been in before for a while as Poland admired and Germany finished off his drink before Poland broke it once again.

"I never get tired of seeing a clear sky," He whispered, "Never. My time there taught me to appreciate every second I get underneath it."

He didn't have to elaborate on where there was.

"That place... It was horrible. I wish it had never existed, I wish I had never been there, and I wish he had never existed, I wish he never found me, I wish he never got a hold of me... And yet, I can at least enjoy things better now. Being deprived of the sky for years on end really teaches you to appreciate it while you have it once you get it back."

Germany's nails were tense against the rock throughout Poland's entire speech, but they finally lost control and scraped back to stab at his palms when Poland stopped talking. They both looked down- One to glare at his traitorous hands, the other to look for the source of the sound.

Please don't notice please don't say anything please don't mention it please don't speak

"...Huh. Sounded like a crab or something just fell and tried to save itself. That's kinda a funny thought actually- Wait, do they even have crabs here? Do all beaches have crabs?"

As Poland dissolved into a ramble about crabs and their living spaces, Germany let out a minuscule sigh and relaxed a little bit. His palms stung... He hoped he didn't break the skin. That wouldn't be good with all the salt in the air and water around them.

He was grateful for Poland's attempts to make him feel better, but he knew that it wasn't what either of them needed in that moment. "Polen-" He interjected, cutting Poland off, "Keep talking. I need to hear it."

"...Huh?"

"What- What you were talking about. I need to hear it. People always fucking avoid it around me, like they think I'll get offended by them saying it, or- or that I'll get defensive, or- I don't even know. What I do know is that I need to hear it."

His eyes squeezed themselves shut while he was talking, so he pried them back open and exhaled slowly in an attempt to calm himself. He was greeted with the sight of Poland watching him with an unreadable look on his face, which did nothing to quell his mild anxiety about this entire situation.

"...Are you sure?" Poland finally asked, tilting his head a bit. Germany nodded jerkily. "Yes, I-"

"I don't think you are."

Startled, Germany blinked a few times. Poland did not blink once. He just stared owlishly at Germany's face.

"I don't think you need to hear it. You want to be ready for it, you want to be able to get over it, but you aren't ready and you don't need it. It's not the right time. And I don't know how reliable your word-of-mouth thoughts are after you've had five or so drinks." He nodded at the discarded flutes on a small rock beside them. Germany flushed for a moment before he calmed back down and attempted to take in what Poland was saying.

"...Even if I'm not ready, I should still hear it. Who knows if I'll ever be ready?"

"You will be," Poland replied immediately. It was almost as if he had been expecting that sort of reply. "You will know, and you will be ready."

"How can you be sure? About any of this?"

"Personal experience."

The two locked eye contact and did not break it for what felt like an eternity. It was most certainly a challenge from both ends. An unstoppable force met an unmovable object.

"...Fine."

The unmovable object was moved.

Germany sighed. He was trying to seem annoyed, he really was, but deep down, he was relieved. Poland could see it in the way his shoulders dropped like bricks and in the way his eyes fluttered shut and relaxed.

"Thank you for complying," Poland teased with a fresh crooked grin. Germany chuckled a bit, but wouldn't meet his eyes. "Thank you for giving me something I wanted to comply with," He replied.

"Come on, kurwa, gimme a hug. You look like a kicked puppy right now." Poland outstretched his arms. Germany immediately complied. "How do you know? Been kicking a lot of puppies recently?" Germany mumbled, having to turn his face so that it was at least comprehensible. "Oh, of course. It's become a bit of a sport for me." Then Poland was off on another tangent, and Germany fully relaxed.

lmaooo my dumbass misread the original request and thought the word "bench" said "beach"... too late to go back now tho :///////