[Um, yes, hello, this is Rosalina. I did not fall off the face of the Earth. *sheepish grin*

I haven't published in a while, so I'm a little nervous...

I discovered Hetalia! Yay! It's my new favorite ever! :D

Anyway, what have we here… Yaoi. Pretty hard boy-on-boy kissin and smexxin right here. And uh… Spanking. Just so you know. In case it wasn't apparent from the summary.

Never thought I'd go there.

Then again, I never thought I would be writing erotic stories about countries, either.

But here we are! :D

Anyway, here ya go.]

For Some Reason, Italy and Clothes Just Don't Seem To Get Along

[ROMANO]

Lovino smiled. Antonio just looked so adorable, his head on Lovino's bare chest, eyes closed peacefully. He was always the first to fall asleep after their… erm, nighttime activities. He put a hand on the other man's head, gently stroking his hair, though he had nearly yanked it out of his head only minutes ago. Sex always left Lovino feeling… Peaceful. And tonight was no different. He lay in his bed, enjoying the warmth of Antonio's sleeping body, the rise and fall of the other man's chest, the absolute quiet of night.

That is, until his stupid brother next door started screaming about something. He could distinctly hear the front door slam, and Feliciano frantically calling out Germany's name.

"Oh, Germany! Germany! It was so scary! Germany, help me!"

The sound faded as Feliciano got farther and farther away.

Spain didn't even move. God, he could sleep through anything.

[GERMANY]

There was no knock on Ludwig's front door. There was no knock on his bedroom door either. There was just suddenly a half-naked Italian man in his bed, wailing deafeningly about some sort of monster that made all the pasta in the world disappear.

Like all the other sane people at this time of night, Ludwig had been asleep.

In case you have never been woken from a deep sleep by a wailing, half-naked Italian man before, it wasn't exactly a nice thing to wake up to.

Unfortunately, Germany had been woken from a deep sleep by a wailing, half-naked Italian man before. Several times before, in fact. And, to be honest, he had had about enough.

"Italy?" He asked, sounding as menacing as he could with his raspy just-woke-up voice.

"Oh, Germany! Oh, you must help me! The scariest thing ever just happened! See, there was this pasta, right, and this monster, and he ransacked the town, and tried to eat all our pasta, and then tried to eat us and it was so scaaary, and I thought I was going to die, and oh, I couldn't find you anywhere, and I just knew that if you were there it all would have been okay, but you weren't, so I tried to surrender, but he would not listen and…'

He threw his arms around Germany and kept babbling in this fashion.

It took a moment for Germany to realize that yes, Italy hadn't put any pants on (again), and that the only thing separating the two of them was the sweatpants Germany had been sleeping in. With all the situations Germany had gotten himself into with Italy, he had to say that this was the closest he had ever been to the other country. All Italy wore was a white button-down shirt. And even that didn't make much difference, as it was unbuttoned. So in essence, Italy was on top of him, naked, in his bed. He felt his heart skip a beat, but internally assured himself that, of course, it was just because Feliciano had surprised him. It couldn't have been the feeling of the soft, bare skin of the other man's chest against his own skin. It couldn't be the way Italy's legs were practically wrapped around him. Certainly not.

After a second's pause, he regained a little of his composure, summoning up enough brainpower to bark, in his normal Germany-like fashion, at the man on top of him, "Italy! Get off of me!" He forced the smaller man off of him and then off the bed. He stood over the Italian as he picked himself up off the floor.

"You've got to stop showing up here in the middle of the night! It's just a dream! You wake up, take a deep breath, maybe go get a drink of water, than you go back to sleep. That's what everyone else on the planet does. You do not scream about it, you do not wake up other people, and you certainly do not run around in the nude! I will not have any ally of mine in public with no pants on for the world to see! It's embarrassing, and completely unacceptable!" Even as Germany scolded Italy, he was scolding himself. It was Italy's fault for being in the wrong place at the right time, but it was his own fault that he enjoyed Italy's presence in that wrong place. He probably shouldn't have been so harsh on the other man, but this was the sixth time this had happened! He needed to know it certainly wasn't okay.

"But Germany, I was so afraid, and you always help me, as you are big and strong, and I am not, I am just a weak little country all on my own, and sometimes I get scared and sometimes I can't deal with it on my own and-" Italy babbled, tapping his pointer fingers against each other, sheepishly.

God, he looked adorable… Germany mentally smacked himself for thinking such a thing, and cut off the Italian's rant by grabbing a hold of the curl on his head and tugging it straight up. He had seen Japan use this on several occasions to shut Italy up. And right now, he needed Italy to shut up.

Indeed, it worked. Italy sucked in a breath. Germany did not let go.

"Listen to me, Italy." He demanded, putting a hand on the smaller man's shoulder and backing him against the wall. He proceeded to accentuate his speech all the time with little tugs on Italy's hair.

"I have had enough of your silly games. Every time this happens, I tell you not to come back, and always, you come back. Clearly, I'm not getting through to you. So I have no choice. I am going to punish you for what you've done. Then I am going to give you some pants and send you home, and you will not come back here in the middle of the night anymore, or it will be double the punishment. Got it?" He let go of the curl, with a final, resolute tug.

The Italian's eyes were wide; Germany assumed it was out of fear. "Yes sir." His voice was very close to a whine. In truth, Italy barely heard a thing Germany said. All his concentration was going towards trying to keep his arousal to a minimum as Germany gave a rough treatment to one of the most sensitive places on the Italian's body.

"Now. The appropriate punishment for going naked. Hm."

In his mind, Italy pictured all sorts of naked punishment that he wouldn't mind the other man inflicting upon him. 'Those strong arms…' He marveled, absently, '...those rough, big hands… And of course, big hands means…'

Germany grabbed Italy by the shoulders, and turned him around, so he was facing the wall.

"Bend over. Hands on the wall." Germany commanded, slightly regretting his choice of language after he realized how perverted it sounded, directed at a mostly-naked man, in the middle of the night, after talking about punishment. Oh God… Well, there was no going back now. What was said was said.

Italy was simultaneously fretfully intimidated, and oddly aroused, as he bent over, legs spread slightly. He wasn't sure what Germany was about to do, and suddenly felt very exposed. The arbitrary unbuttoned shirt he had thrown on before leaving the house did nothing to cover him in this position, and he was suddenly very self-aware under Germany's eyes. The combination of emotions washing over him was comparable to the rush of a schoolboy doing something delightfully deviant. This felt deviant. He chanced a look over his shoulder.

Unbeknownst to Italy, Germany was actually rather impressed with how well the smaller man had followed his instruction, (Not that this was the time or place to be impressed with Italy) as he watched him bend over, back parallel to the ground, ass sticking out at an angle that was almost obscene. Before Germany could catch himself, he found himself thinking of how nice it would be to kiss that sweet little tanned ass. He ran his tongue over the tips of his teeth, eyes taking on a predatory glint. Before Italy could read his expression, he quickly shook off the thought and put his commander attitude back on.

"Head down. Eyes down." Germany demanded.

"Yes, sir." Italy felt compelled to say as he followed the stronger country's instruction, hanging his head.

Feliciano heard the sharp smack of skin against skin before he felt the pain of where Ludwig had spanked him.

Germany, on the other hand, barely registered a sound, too overwhelmed by the way Italy's butt had felt and looked, bouncing and jiggling against his hand, upon impact. He knew it was not a natural thing to feel, but he had the nearly-irresistible drive to recreate the same sensation over and over.

"Yaaaah! Germany! That hurt!" Italy sprang up from his bent pose, rubbing his bottom that was quickly turning red.

"It is punishment. That is the point." The blond stared at him, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Now. This is the… Sixth time this has happened. So five more would be fair, yes?" Germany's grin reminded Italy of a shark.

"Five more!" Italy fretted. The first one had hurt so much! Five more of those, and he wouldn't be able to sit down for a week!

"I could make it ten."

"No no no… Go ahead." Italy submitted begrudgingly, bending over once again to accept Germany's punishment.

Germany grabbed one of Italy's slim hips, holding him in place. He almost wished to see the expression on Feliciano's face when he brought his hand down upon him a second time.

Again, Italy cried out, but Ludwig's strong hand held him in place, surely leaving five round little bruises.

"Sshhh. Don't yell." Ludwig instructed, leaning down so his chest was nearly touching Feli's back, his mouth level with his ear. "Don't say anything. Act like a man. If I hear your voice, I will have to pull your hair again to shut you up." His voice was raspy, all low and rough and commanding, and Feliciano's eyes nearly rolled back in his head just at the sound of it, not to mention the torturous pleasure it promised.

Italy did not answer. He thought that if he answered, it would count as saying something, and then he would get his hair pulled, and dammit, the way Germany was treating him was already turning him on more than he was willing to admit. If he started on the curl too… Italy knew he wouldn't be able to hide his arousal. In his mind, he damned himself for not wearing any pants. This was not making the situation any better.

Apparently, Germany was not expecting an answer, as he removed himself from Feliciano, and resumed his punishment.

As Ludwig's hand came down upon him a third and fourth time, Feliciano succeeded in his silence, though tears welled at the corners of his eyes. The next time, he sincerely tried to keep himself quiet, but he couldn't hold back a whine from the resonating pain in his behind.

Ludwig sighed, shaking his head. "And you had been doing so well…"

He moved beside Feliciano, rather than behind him, as he had been. "Head up." He commanded.

Feliciano did as he was told, trying to ignore Ludwig's eyes boring into him. He stared up at the ceiling.

The blonde man grabbed the brunette's curl, wrapping it around a finger. It was a slow, deliberate motion. "Is this what you want?" Ludwig asked, tugging gently, his voice deceivingly gentle. He ran his tongue from one canine tooth to the other, slowly, menacingly, as he studied Feliciano. Adrenalin was racing through the larger country's veins. He refused to admit that his dominant position over the smaller country was exciting him, but his body spoke otherwise.

"Look at me." Germany whispered. Italy's eyes met his. The Italian was biting his lip, and Germany saw desperation in his eyes. It wasn't fear though, not all of it. There was… Something else.

"Is this what you want?"

Italy did not answer. He could not. Looking into Germany's eyes made it worse.

"Answer me, dammit!" Germany bellowed, giving Italy's captive hair a yank.

"N- no… No sir!" Italy stuttered, a tear escaping his eye at the intoxicating mix of pain and awful, awful pleasure, at the effort of holding back from just grabbing Germany and ripping his pants off and doing unspeakable things.

"How about this?" Germany asked, as he spanked him a sixth time, still with a tight grip on Italy's hair.

Italy thought he might die of embarrassment. He was aware of the fact that he was obviously aroused by this point, and it would only be so long until Germany noticed. His face was flushed, his body tense, his blood was starting to rush south, and he was sure if he tried to speak, it would come out as some terribly pathetic noise.

"Now. You may answer me." Germany all but growled in his ear. "Have you thought about what you've done?" He played with Italy's curl between his fingers. He could hear each breath Italy took, each one coming just a bit too fast, with too much force, too much effort. He watched Italy lick his dry, red lips.

Yes, Germany was definitely enjoying this. He was enjoying watching his little Feliciano squirm.

Italy felt the most delicious shiver dance down his spine at the way Germany was playing with his hair. He meant to answer with a clear, concise 'yes', but it ended up as a half moan.

… Which did not go unnoticed by Germany. He felt his pants get a little tighter, and could barely keep a straight face. He just wanted to reach down and palm himself through his pants, but he wouldn't admit to himself that Italy was making him this hard, this desperate. "And are you sorry?"

"Yes, Germany." He looked up at the bigger country, looking him in the eyes for a moment.

He had never seen Ludwig like this before. A cruel smile held his lips, something burned in his eyes that made Italy's heartbeat quicken. And was Ludwig, powerful-Germany-Ludwig… Was he blushing?

"And will it happen again?"

"No, sir."

"Good." The larger country stood back up, and the other followed. Feliciano watched him, taking a look for the first time tonight at Ludwig's body. He glanced at the familiar broad shoulders and strong chest, the muscled arms and harsh, rough hands. Feeling his face get even warmer, he followed a cut line from Ludwig's stomach, along his hip to where it disappeared beneath the waistband of his low-slung sweatpants. And then he noticed the bulge in those sweatpants, the slight wet patch on the front. He nearly moaned just at the sight. It meant that Germany was getting off on this too.

Germany felt the heat of Italy's eyes on him. Also, one glance told him that Feliciano was just as excited as he was. Feliciano was a lot of things, 'subtle' was not one of them.

"That is all." Germany breathed, his eyes locked with Italy's, and completely devoid of emotion, as if nothing had just happened. As if they both weren't half-naked and horny as hell. As if Ludwig honestly expected him to just go home now.

The blonde turned away to retrieve a pair of neatly folded pants from a drawer, and Feliciano unabashedly watched him; studying shapes and muscles, shadows and colors, as if he was an artist and Germany his model.

He knew what he would do. Oh, he had the most awfully delightful idea. He had seen the way Germany had been eyeing him bent over. He knew just what he would make Ludwig do. And he knew he would give in.

"Germany."

"Hn?"

"Kiss it."

Germany tensed, and slowly looked over is shoulder at the other man. He looked dead serious. Or, at least, more serious than Germany had seen him lately.

"What?" He asked, honestly confused.

"You hurt me. You hit me. Now kiss it better."

It took a moment for Italy's request to actually sink in. "Kiss it b—Are you telling me to kiss your ass?"

"In the kindest way possible, ah, I suppose, yes." He grinned, that adorable, goofy grin.

Germany blinked several times and answered only by chucking his smallest pair of pants in Italy's general direction, and flopping down onto the bed, facing away from Feli.

Italy caught them before they fell to the ground, and looked down at them, then up at Germany's form, only partly visible in the dark room.

"I was serious."

"You're never serious. Get dressed and go home, Italy." Ludwig grumbled, pulling his legs up a bit in a failed attempt to hide his unwelcome erection. He didn't want to glance over at Italy, knowing the other man already knew, but he risked a look anyway.

"Not 'til you kiss it better." Feliciano pouted.

'Oh God, don't pout. Anything but the pout…' Germany grit his teeth. He shouldn't have fucking looked.

"I'm not kissing that." He stated, flatly.

"Please?"

"No! Now man up, stop pouting, and get out of my sight, before I make your life even worse." Germany hated himself for imagining how fucking hot it would be if he just gave in. He wanted to so bad it was making him absolutely miserable.

"You're not really that mean." Italy pointed out.

"I am." (He wasn't.)

"I'm not leaving."

"Yes you are." (He wasn't.)

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"No I'm not. I can stand and do this all night, I do not mind." Italy teased.

"Oh, fuck it. Fine. I'll kiss it. I'll kiss it once, and then you'll put pants on and go home, and I will go back to bed, and everything will be normal and fine."

Feliciano smiled and set the pair of pants down.

Ludwig heaved himself off the bed and inched toward the Italian. Italy thought he looked awkward and cute.

"Uh, hold still." Germany said, tone completely contrasting with what it had just been. Before, he had been confident. He had Italy under his control, and he knew exactly what was supposed to happen. He had had a plan in his mind, and had carried it out. Now he was unsure and insecure, and honestly, he didn't like it one bit. He really didn't know how to go about doing this, he felt terribly out of place, and it didn't help that his cock was absolutely throbbing at the idea of doing this. It was so… Forbidden. So wrong.

He got on his knees behind Feliciano and gently grabbed hold of his hips. God, his hips felt nice. Germany silently licked his lips. This was not happening right now. Good God, this was so not happening right now. He awkwardly placed an uncharacteristically soft kiss on one cheek, right where Feliciano's lower back turned into his deliciously rounded little butt.

"There. Happy?"

"That's not even the part you hit! No fair!"

Ludwig sighed, and Feliciano shivered at the blonde's hot breath against his bare skin.

Germany looked at the red marks on the skin before him, and carefully kissed each one. Each kiss made Germany more agonizingly horny. He couldn't believe this was actually happening. Not at all. It was impossible. He had to try so hard to hold back, to stop himself from using his tongue or teeth on Feliciano, or from palming his aching length to try to just get rid of some of the pressure.

"I think you missed a spot…" Italy singsonged.

"You're enjoying this aren't you?" Germany grumbled.

"Aren't you?" The way Italy sprung the question on him made Germany painfully aware of his full erection, and completely self-conscious and awkward knowing that the other man knew about it and had one to match.

And he didn't know what to say about that. He got to his feet, but couldn't quite get his balance, and reached his hands out behind him, scrambling to hold on to the edge of the dresser. "I, uh, of course not… That's ridiculous… Why would I…" He started, but his voice slowly faded away into an unintelligible mutter.

Germany continued to stutter as Italy sauntered toward him confidently, his cock bobbing between his legs. "Aren't you? You get off on kissing my ass, don't you, Ludwig?" He nuzzled the German's ear, kissed his neck, open-mouthed and wet.

"Of – Of course not! What are you—"

"Don't lie." Italy instructed, cutely. He grabbed Germany through his pants. The larger man sucked in a breath, his eyes the size of plates.

"Nope…" Italy muttered as he palmed him. "Can't lie to me…"

"Oh God, Italy. Oh God, don't." The German shut his eyes tightly, and his words were slurred together through clenched teeth.

"Ah, you look so delicious right now." The Italian whispered, his breath hot against Germany's neck, which drove Ludwig crazy. His fingernails dug into the dresser, leaving eight little crescent marks.

Italy carefully pulled Germany's pants down, just far enough to discover Germany's lack of underwear, and take advantage of it. He gripped Germany's hard length and stroked him, slowly. Teasingly, agonizingly slowly.

"Italy, it's… It's embarrassing…" Germany protested, even as his hips betrayed him and he grinded into Italy's hand.

"It's not embarrassing." Italy reasoned. "I'm not embarrassed. And I'm just as hard as you. See?" Germany opened his eyes. Italy removed his hand, and moved closer to Germany, pressing the tip of his leaking cock against Ludwig's.

Germany moaned. He was way too sensitive there, and that felt way too good and he didn't even try to pretend anymore. He didn't want to. This was really happening, and it's not like he could just stop now, and at this point, he was just too far gone to care.

Italy went on, encouraged by the bit of ground he had gained. "I love it when you take control, Germany. I love it when you pull my hair. I love the way your hands feel on me." Italy moaned into Germany's neck, kissing it every so often.

"Ohh… Keep talking, Italy." Just the tone of his voice was getting Germany off. One of his hands moved up to gently play with Italy's curl, beginning to understand exactly what it was, and feeling a little stupid for not realizing it earlier.

"Mmn, and I love" -he hissed at Germany's touch- "when you tell me what to do. I love the way you run your tongue over your teeth when you're turned on. I love your big hands."

Italy grabbed Germany's other hand and used it to stroke both their erections at once. Italy set the pace and Germany let him, loving the way Italy's cock felt, hot and rock hard against his. He knew he wasn't going to last.

He cursed and moaned. "What else, Italy?" He demanded, pulling harder on his hair.

"I love, -ah!- the way your cock feels, against …mmn… against mine… The way you blush when you're horny… The feeling of your lips on –haah- my skin…"

Germany yanked Italy's head up so they were face to face, and suddenly they were kissing. It was hot and needy, their tongues pushing against each other almost angrily, teeth clashing more than once. Italy's hand tightened around Germany's and moved faster, both of them groaning at the added pressure.

Italy pulled away, breathless, and moaned in Germany's ear, "You know what else I would love?"

Germany's answer was no more than a groan.

"I'd love to feel you come for me."

"Hell…" Germany breathed. It was too much. Italy was perfect, too perfect. He buried his face in Italy's neck and came, the other man not far behind him.

Germany stayed still, his head resting on Italy, not even beginning to fathom what had just happened. His knees were shaking beneath him, threatening to quit working. He had just – And Italy had… With him…

He felt Italy's not-sticky hand gently rubbing his back, between his shoulders. "Breathe, Germany." He said, not unkindly.

"R-Right." He slowly came back to Earth and picked his head up.

Their hands were still joined. Germany was the first to move.

"Um, here." He turned to the dresser and found an old shirt, which he proceeded to clean both of them up with.

They looked at each other for a minute, not knowing what to say. "You can… Stay here. I guess. Tonight." Germany finally admitted.

"Oh no, I'll just put your pants on and go home." Italy argued, turning away. In truth, he was trying to hide a smile. He knew the other wouldn't let him leave. He knew Germany too well.

The blonde stared at him, like he didn't quite know what to say. Really, Germany was just trying to decide what sounded the least like a cheesy romance-novel cliché. Not that Germany ever read any cheesy romance novels, of course.

In the end, he opted for the simplest choice.

He wrapped his arms around Feliciano's shoulders from behind, pressing his chest to the other's back.

"Stay." He whispered.

... ... ...

Just as Germany was starting to fall asleep, he felt Feliciano giggling next to him.

"Hm?" He tiredly raised an eyebrow.

"Oh nothing. I just never thought you would actually tell me to keep talking." He continued giggling.

"I could still kick you out you know."

"You wouldn't."

Germany sighed.

"No, no I wouldn't."

... ... ...

Two weeks later:

[ROMANO]

Romano sat at his kitchen table, watching Antonio make breakfast.

"Toni, you look so cute in your little apron."

Antonio nearly burned himself, he was so taken aback at the compliment.

"Ah, thank you, Lovi!" He beamed. Lovino was always so angry. What had changed? "You're in a good mood this morning."

Lovi shrugged. "I get so much sleep now that my bonehead brother doesn't wake me up in the middle of the night." He took a sip of his coffee.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you don't know, since you always fall asleep after sex…"

From the stove, Antonio grinned sheepishly. It was absolutely true. Lovi knew how to wear him out.

Lovino continued "But he would run, screaming to Germany, every time he had a stupid nightmare. He'd always go right past our window. Of course, you never even woke up. But it's been a couple weeks now. I guess he's not having nightmares anymore."

"Or maybe, since he stays with Germany every night now, you just don't hear him anymore."

Lovino nearly spit out his coffee. "He what?"

END

[Wow, guys. I really, really tried to stay in character for both of them. If there's something I can do to make it better, please, do tell.

Also, once upon a time, I had some really nice formatting, but, well, like the ugliest barnacle, it all died. :/ If there's anything too unforgivable, please let me know, and I'll see what I can do.

Haha, I kept thinking while I was writing this… Feli's got Ludwig so whipped… Come on, he literally kissed his ass!

And also, yes, I enjoy having a story name longer than a Fall Out Boy song title.

It's okay, though, the story was proportionate to the title. I mean, God, what a long one-shot. Over 4,000 words of smexyness! (And some a's, and's and the's.) It took forever. :/

It's okay though, it was fun. More Hetalia soon. More Ger/Ita soon. I love this couple…

Ahem. Come now, don't think of it as reviewing. Think of it as… Helping my porn-writing skills and/or my self-esteem as a writer. That way, I can write better porn! For you! Think of it as… Helping me help you. Like a psychologist. But sexier. ;D

Much love,

Rosalina]