A key turned in its lock and the door to Italy's house opened. A tired Germany came inside and closed the door behind him.

"Hello? Italy? I'm home! Where are you?" Germany called.

"In the kitchen!" Italy answered.

Just then, Germany noticed an odd smell. Like something was burning.. His eyes went wide as he grabbed the fire extinguisher and jolted to the kitchen, nearly smacking into the cooking man. Italy put his arms up in front of him.

"Whoa, whoa! Where's the fire? Literally?" Italy pointed to Germany's legs, the fire extinguisher in his hands, and back to his legs a few times. Germany blushed and rubbed the back of his head.

"Uhh….In the oven?" he laughed a little. Italy rolled his eyes.

"Well I came home and I smelled a weird smell….I thought you might have set the kitchen on fire….again…" Italy blushed.

"One time! ONE TIME that happened!! Besides, Im getting better!" Italy, now slightly ticked off, pulled down the oven door. "See? It's blackened chicken. Its supposed to smell like that." I think… he added under his breath.

"Wow. No pasta. Whats the occasion?"

"You forgot? You're so mean, you meanie!" The brunette stuck out his tounge, which reminded Germany of when he first met him, back in second grade. The blonde man laughed.

"I remember, I remember. Our annivarsary. How could I forget?" Germany stared at his lover's tongue, still poking out of his mouth. It would be very easy to just stick his own tongue into the shorter man's mouth. Of course height would be an issue…

"You do, of course, realize that you still have your tongue sticking out, right?"

"uh huh." Italy mumbled, tongue still out.

"And you realize that without your own tongue in it, your mouth is empty, right?"

"uh huh"

"And you realize that you're an idiot for not figuring out what I'm implying, right?

"uh huh…wait, what?! I can't…believe…" Italy pulled his tongue back into his mouth and sounded like he was about to cry.

"After 6 months, you can't believe that I want to kiss you?" Germany watched, confused as hell, as tears streamed down Italy's cheeks.

"I cant believe….you just called me an idiot!" All of his sadness was gone, replaced by fury that would even make Russia cringe. Germany ran, possibly for his life, with a pissed off Italy in tow.

I knew I should have bought those tranquilizer darts… Germany thought. Less than a minute later, Germany was cornered in their study.

"Why the hell would you say that?!"

"Why the hell would you cahse me for saying that!?"

"Apologize, bitch!" Italy picked up the computer monitor beside him and held it above his head. Germany was actually scared. Oh my god, this is not Italy…and when the hell did he get so strong?! he thought.

For a few seconds, Germany thought he was dead meat at the hands of his gay boyfriend. Italy lifted the poor, innocent monitor back, as if he was going to throw it.