That Curl

Chapter One: Germany-Italy

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia: Axis Powers and the people in this work of pure fiction do not actually represent the countries named in any way or form.

Germany stared at it as Italy babbled on, smiling aimlessly.

It was bothering him immensely. He was losing sleep, because of the stupid thing! It waved with the Italian's gestures, as he contently talked about pasta or art or some equality stupid thing.

It swayed and dipped and curled, and all at once, Germany lost it.

"What is that thing?!" He roared over Italy, pointing at the single curl that projected out of Italy's otherwise normal hairstyle.

Italy blinked.

"Ve~?" He asked in apparent confusion, tilting his head to the side curiously. The hair bobbed, mocking him.

Angrily, Germany grabbed hold of it and pulled it a bit.

"What the hell is this?" He muttered angrily at Italy, not noticing how Italy had all at once gotten pale and then very, very flushed.

"P-Please let go of that." Italy ground out, his legs shaking, and his head spinning. Blood rushed to his face and somewhere a bit lower.

"No!" Germany said defiantly. "Not until you explain what this thing is!" He ran one of his fingers down the length of it and back up, missing the Italian's sharp intake of breath and almost notable tighten of his blue pants.

"Germany…" The Italy moaned softly. Germany blinked and saw the smaller boy's face, flushed and feeling some strange unknown emotion.

"Huh?" He asked, before Italy jumped and all of a sudden, a mass of kissing and husky moans that Germany was very sure could not be coming from him. Hands moved, mouths met, and the unspoken rising tension was splayed out and filled the actions, the movement's slowing only as Germany let go of the hair curl.

Italy pulled away, noticeably just as aroused as Germany, and felt the blood rush back into his face.

Germany didn't say anything, and the silence was tense and palatble.

As Italy started flurried, miserable apologizing, Germany leaned down and gave Italy a chaste kiss on the mouth.

Italy paused, confusion spreading through his face.

"I think…I think I understand what that thing is, now." Germany said, turning slightly and coughing into his fist.

Italy smiled and whispered into Germany's ear.

Ve, my house is close, Romano isn't home…

Germany had never moved so fast in his life.

A/N: Next chapter: Prussia/Canada!