Heimliche Romanze

September 2, 1943

The sounds of fists pounding frantically at his front door startled Germany, causing him to drop his mug of freshly-brewed black coffee which shattered upon impact with the floor.

"Germany! Germany!"

The groggy country just sighed but stood up to answer the door. "Ach, Italy, what is it?" He said with a tired, exasperated tone as he opened the door, only to gasp at the sight of Italy with tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Germany! I don't want to do it! Why are they making me? Please stop them!" the desperate country cried.

"What in the name of Holy Rome are you talking about?" Germany demanded.

Italy sniffled and tried to wipe away a few tears before replying. "It's my boss! He's making me sign a treaty with the Allies, but I don't want to join them. I don't want to leave you, Germany! You're my best friend."

Germany had heard him say this before, but was still touched by that last statement. His best friend, thought the country. Well, I suppose he's my best friend too…and I don't want to lose him. I mean, Japan is alright, but he's not really someone I can talk to. He's not Italy…The blond places his hands on the auburn-haired boy's narrow shoulders. "Don't worry, Italy. We can figure this out. Now, here, come inside."

Italy followed Germany into the house, already feeling slightly more relieved now that he was at the side of his greatest companion. As he attempted to compose himself, he even managed to crack a small smile, though his eyes still moist with the threat of reoccurring tears. What would I do without Germany? He's always been so good to me, though all I've done is cause him trouble. I don't want to be a burden to him anymore, but I just could never leave him. I never want to leave him… thought Italy as he sat down at the kitchen table. He watched as Germany tended to the mess on the floor, the muscular figure bent over the puddle of deep brown coffee dotted with shards of broken ceramic. Italy could clearly see the shape of Germany well-defined shoulder blades through his fitted white t-shirt. He felt his cheeks become flooded with heat as he realized he was starting to blush. Germany was indeed a strong and attractive country. Was there really any reason he would even still need or want Italy? The frail country began to think he never should have run over here today in the first place. He didn't want to be just another burden to his best former-ally.

A mug appeared in front of him. "Here, drink."

Italy looked up to see that the man who had a second ago been on the floor was now towering over him. He shook his head, realizing that he had been trapped in his train of thought which in the meantime had lost control and rolled off the tracks, leaving disaster in its wake. He picked up the mug and sipped a bit of the weak black coffee and cringed. It was nothing like the rich stuff he had at home, but it was an extension of kindness from a friend, so he accepted it with overwhelming gratitude. "Thank you, Germany! You're always so good to me!"

"Bitte," the gruff man replied. "Now, tell me more about this treaty. An armistice, I assume?"

"Yes. Tomorrow, I have to go to meet with England and sign it. Then I'll officially be one of the Allies. I wish I didn't have to. I like being in the Axis. I'll miss Japan. But most of all, I'll miss you, Germany." The small boy's lips formed an awkward smile. He wanted desperately to not cause any more pain to his friend, but inside he felt as if he were being torn to pieces.

The expression tugged at Germany's heart-strings, and he felt a smile that mirrored Italy's generate on his own face. He could sense the divide in Italy's heart, and felt it too in his own. The thought of losing his partner was slowly crippling him. Before he knew it, his hand was crawling across the table to meet the other man's which he then cupped in his own. The glint residing in Italy's eye sparkled as the contact caught him by surprise. "Don't worry, Italy. Even if you have to leave the Axis, and we must fight on opposing sides, we can still be friends."

"Really?" Italy beamed. All morning he had thought all hope was lost, and yet here his dearest confidant showed him once again never to surrender, even in the bleakest of hours. He leapt from his chair and gave Germany a tackling hug. As he clung to the taller man's muscular torso, he felt a large hand glide lightly yet firmly, as if in a protective manner, from his neck to lower back.

"Of course, Italy," the deep voice answered. The smaller country twitched as the hand went lower. He looked up at his protector's face, which featured a soft grin and calm eyes. Italy settled and let his eyelids drop closed as he nestled his cheek into the strong chest. The hand continued running up and down his back, rocking him gently. What am I doing? Italy is not ein Kind, and yet here I am cradling him like ein Baby. Although he does act like one most of the time. This does feel kind of nice though, holding him like this. Normally I'd be annoyed by his clinginess, but today, something's different. Maybe… "Italy?"

The brown-eyed boy's lids flickered open again. "Hm?"

"I—I propose we form our own alliance. Maybe not an official one. But a secret one that just you and I know about. What do you think?" the blue-eye man spouted, anxiety setting in from letting himself sound so vulnerable.

"Do you mean it, Germany? Just the two of us? Our own secret partnership?" His eyes grew to twice their size with excitement. He looked so cute with his puppy eyes and wide smile.

"Yes, Italy." And with that he couldn't help but move his hand to lift the smaller man's fragile chin. He leaned down and kissed him. Italy's eyes managed to bulge even larger for an instant, but he quickly closed his eyes and melted into the passionate kiss. As he pressed in harder, his tongue slipping between parted lips and into Italy's mouth, Germany's hands took hold of the light fabric on the boy's back. It only took a slight tug with his strong arms to tear it, and so he peeled the shirt away and let it fall to the blood-red kitchen tiles. He then used his muscular arms again to whisk the featherweight boy into the bedroom, their lips not separating for a second.

He laid him carefully on the bed, slowly lowering his head onto the big, fluffy, white pillow. He stood up to full height again to remove his own shirt. The early morning sun filtered in through the single window, illuminating Germany from behind and only enhancing his god-like physique. Then he climbed onto the bed, straddling Italy and kissing him once more. He stripped the boy of his pants and lowered his own head to the Italy's unexplored territories. The blond wrapped his tongue around the red-haired boy's shaft and ran his fingers along its base. He continued licking and sucking deliberately while Italy dug his fingernails into the sheets. As he was overwhelmed by pleasure, he cried out a single "Germany" and periodically moaned in delight. As the tension within his body increased, his cries got louder and his grip on the bed fabric tightened. When he reached the ultimate moment of ecstasy, he released into Germany's mouth and relinquished his hold on the bed for the time being.

Italy's breath was ragged and he could only let loose one word, "Germany…"

"Did you enjoy that, mein Liebchen?" asked the other with a haughty smirk. "Well now, it's my turn." He lifted Italy from the bed, one arm wrapping around his waist. He licked the boy's left nipple before encircling him with his other arm and gathering Italy into an embrace. He snaked his tongue back into the redhead's mouth, as he moved him into position, folding the boy's legs around his own waist. Italy rested his head on Germany's shoulder, which the taller man took as a signal of consent. So with that he engaged in a frontal assault on Italy.

Italy winced and threw his arms around Germany's back as he gasped for air, pressing them more tightly together. As the powerful country began shifting his hips, thrusting in and out, the weaker felt his breathing hitch. "Ah, Germany, it—I—"

"Shhh," responded his partner. "Relax. Try to time your breathing with me."

"Okay, I'll try." And as Germany progressively increased his pace and fell into a rhythm his movements, so did Italy with his breaths. The smaller closed his eyes and clutched to the larger's back. Light groans escaped from both of their mouths from time to time, as together they reached the impeccable state of transcendent pleasure. As Germany came, he tightened his hold on Italy who did the same in return. Entangled in each other's arms they collapsed back down on the bed. Italy slanted to place a quick peck on his lover's lips then sank back into those muscular arms cradling him once again.

The two lied there cuddling for quite some time. Germany nuzzled the top of Italy's head, twirling the boy's single curl with his index finger. Italy rested his head on the man's chest, every so often sighing in content. Germany was the first to break the silence, looking down into his partner's bright eyes. "Italy, ich liebe dich," he expelled with a certain nonchalant yet fervent tone.

The other gleamed with joy and replied with a sweet, "I love you too." He paused, giggling before asking, "So, what are we going to call this new secret alliance?"

"Hmm…How about 'Heimliche Romanze'?" suggested the blond musingly.

"And what does that mean?" asked the red-haired boy with a quizzical tilt of the head.

"Secret Romance," replied Germany with an affectionate smile as he gathered Italy into another deep and loving kiss.