A/N: Another deanonning from the kink meme. I don't have much to say here, so I'll just give you the prompt- Germany/Italy, new relationship fluff.

I think once he lost the denial, Germany would be the type of guy to fall really hard. So I want to see Germany trying really hard to act like his normal, repressed self, but being unable to hide how head-over-heels he is. Anything else is up to anon!

It had taken some time for Germany to get used to the whole idea of being in a relationship with Italy. In the beginning, the concept of letting another person into his neatly ordered world, of sharing his private feelings and dreams with them, of not having to feel awkward about expressing anything beyond civility toward them had been difficult for him to grasp. It had cost him a lot of effort to do simple things like tell Italy that he loved him or cuddle or kiss him, and doing any of those things in public had been completely out of the question.

While those things still weren't easy for him, Germany noticed that it wasn't quite as difficult now as it had been before. He had even managed to hold Italy's hand under the table during yesterday's meeting, much to Italy's delight. His face had still gone red as they had laced their fingers together, causing Japan to ask him afterwards if he was running a fever, but all in all, he still felt pretty proud of himself for being so daring.

Therefore, when Germany awoke that morning to find the pretty little Italian still fast asleep at his side, he decided that he would try to be brave again. He cleared his throat nervously and curled his arms around Italy's warm body, pulling him close. Germany blushed slightly as he nuzzled his nose into Italy's downy hair and kissed him softly several times. Italy made a little noise of sleepy contentment and shifted to smile up at Germany. He giggled when he saw the blush on Germany's face, propping himself up on his elbow so that he could return the kisses on each pinked cheek and then on his lips.

"Good morning, Germany!" Italy chirped. "Germany doesn't usually wake me up with cuddles and kisses. You must be in a good mood today, huh?"

Germany could feel the heat in his face increase another couple degrees but he tried to take a deep breath and keep his wits about him. He longed to shower affection on Italy, show him exactly how deeply he loved him, but he couldn't lose his head; he did have a reputation to uphold, after all. He could indulge himself sometimes, but at the same time, it was important not to go overboard. He had read in a dating guidebook that it was possible for your partner to feel smothered by too much affection. Germany loved Italy very much and the last thing he wanted was to lose him because of his own lack of self-control. It was just so hard to restrain himself when he found himself faced with Italy's adorable sunny smile.

"Hmm, well, it's Saturday and it the weather is nice," Germany replied, trying not to sound as though it was taking every ounce of self control he possessed not to pounce on Italy and kiss the living daylights out of him. "And waking up next to you doesn't hurt either…"

"Hmm? What did you say, Germany?" Italy asked, tilting his head curiously. Oh god, he was so damn cute when he did that. Germany hugged him again, trying to control the almost overpowering desire to drown Italy in the massive flood of affection that was building in his chest like a tidal wave.

"Nothing," he mumbled.

He thought that maybe he would be able to squash his amorous urges if he didn't look at the smaller man's charming face. That plan was quickly foiled when Italy's forehead brushed his lips, and before Germany could stop himself, he was peppering it with kisses. Italy purred happily in response to the affection that his lover was lavishing on him, and squirmed in Germany's arms as he tried to position himself so that he could take the kisses on his lips instead. Their lips only met briefly before Germany jerked away, realizing what he was doing.

"S-sorry," he said quickly, his face flushing brilliantly. "Didn't mean to get carried away."

"Eh?" Italy pouted. "But I…"

"Anyway, you don't have any plans for today, do you?" Germany continued, hoping he could distract Italy from his embarrassing display just now. "It would be a shame to waste such a clear, sunny day indoors."

"Oh! Oh! I know!" Italy cheered excitedly, getting distracted all too easily. "Let's go to the beach, Germany! Wouldn't that be fun?"

The blond considered this. He hadn't been to the beach in ages; not since that time when he, Italy and Japan had been stranded on that deserted island during the war. It might be kind of fun.

"Beach! Beach!" Italy chanted, grabbing Germany's hands excitedly. "There's a really pretty one at my place that's not very busy! Pleeeease, Germany?"

Germany sighed, a small smile tugging at his lips at the sight of his lover's hopeful face. Realizing that he had been completely won over, he leaned in and placed a soft kiss of acquiescence on Italy's lips.

"Alright, then," he agreed quietly. "The beach it is."

The two of them arrived at the Italian beach a few hours later. Italy had wanted to bring a picnic, but Germany hadn't been very keen on the idea of all their food possibly becoming seasoned with sand so they had stopped at a quaint little Italian place on the way. Germany glanced out at the sandy visage before them as he picked up the beach bag from the backseat of the car. Considering what a scenic spot it was and how beautiful the weather was, Germany was surprised by how few people had laid out their towels there. He counted three couples, two single sunbathers and a family of four. The blond breathed a small sigh of relief. He was still self-conscious about going out on dates with Italy and the less people present to stare at them, the better.

Italy appeared at his side, grinning in anticipation, the umbrella tucked under his arm as Germany locked the car. He took Germany's hand and led him away from the other beach-goers to a more secluded spot, humming happily as he walked. When Italy had found a place that satisfied him, he let go of Germany's hand so that he could pop open the umbrella and stick it into the sand. Faster than Germany's eyes could follow, Italy stripped down to his swimming shorts (thank god he'd stopped there; there were families around, after all!) and raced toward the sea.

"Oi, It… Feliciano!" Germany shouted after him, remembering just in time to use his human name when they were among regular people. "You haven't put your sun block on yet!"

He raced after Italy and caught the excited Italian around the waist, lifting him off the ground easily and hauling him back to the blanket.

"But if I put on sun block, I have to wait before I can go swimming," Italy whined. "The water will protect me, right?"

"You can still get sunburn when you're swimming," Germany said sternly. "You won't have to wait too long before you go in the water. I hate seeing you in pain, especially when the cause is something we can prevent so easily so just be patient."

Italy looked up at him and smiled as the blond set him on the blanket and began rummaging in the beach bag for the bottle of sun block. "Germany always takes such good care of me."

Germany blushed as he avoided Italy's eyes, pretending that he was having trouble finding the lotion. "Someone has to. And anyway I love you, so…"

Italy heard his mumbling that time and giggled as he draped himself over Germany's broad shoulder and kissed him. "I love Germany, too."

The taller man cleared his throat in embarrassment as he finally pulled out the sun block and handed it to Italy. Italy grinned flirtatiously at his companion.

"Do it for me?" he inquired sweetly. "I'd hate to miss a spot and Germany's nice big hands would do the job perfectly!"

Germany's face went scarlet at the thought of rubbing lotion all over Italy's body in public. "I-I'll help you with the places you can't reach yourself," he muttered, "but… look Italy, there are people over there, and…"

"Eh? You won't help me?" Italy asked, looking crushed. "But… but Germany just said he loves me… Was it a lie?"

"No! No, of course not!" Germany said hurriedly. "It's just… well, what if someone sees us?"

"Oh, I knew Germany was shy and that's why I took us all the way over here," the smaller man explained in that carefree manner of his. "No one's looking; it'll be fine."

Germany toyed uneasily with the bottle of lotion that Italy had pushed back into his hands. The thought that other people might see them wasn't the only reason holding him back. He wasn't sure if he'd be able control himself if he was forced to focus on Italy's body for an extended period of time. Germany swallowed hard, already starting to feel hot and bothered and he hadn't even touched Italy yet. But Italy was looking up at him with his sparkling chocolate brown eyes, giving him that pleading look that he knew Germany couldn't resist. With a shaky sigh of defeat, Germany squeezed some sun block into his hands.

"Veee~!" Italy purred happily, knowing that he had won.

He stretched out on the blanket, showing Germany his back and shivered slightly as the cool lotion on Germany's hands came into contact with his skin. Italy's eyes fluttered closed in enjoyment. The blond was always so unbelievably gentle when he touched him, as if he was afraid of breaking him and it warmed Italy's heart immensely. Even though he wished that Germany wasn't so uncomfortable with displaying affection toward him, it made the affection he did get all the more rewarding. Despite the fact that Germany distributed affection sparingly, his tender touches and caresses revealed the depth of his love like few other things could.

Germany's hands shook slightly with nerves and suppressed desire as he massaged the lotion into Italy's back. That unbelievably smooth, tan skin was just begging to be nibbled and sucked and smothered with kisses. I have to keep myself under control, he told himself firmly. We're in a public place and I don't want to scare him away. But then that tiny heart-shaped freckle on the back of Italy's neck caught his eye.

Germany stared, his hands stopping as he became entranced with it. It was one of his more closely-guarded secrets, but Germany loved that little heart-shaped mark. When he and Italy were in bed and he was sure there was no one else around, his lips granted it lots of loving attention. While Italy had noticed Germany's fascination with the back of his neck, he didn't seem to be aware of the freckle, which somehow made it even cuter. Without stopping to think, Germany bent down and kissed the little heart.

"Ve~ Germany seems to like that spot on the back of my neck, huh?" Italy hummed. "I wonder what's back there…"

In Germany's head, this was Italy trying to hint to him that he was getting irritated with the random kisses. It was a shame that his insecurities didn't seem to allow for clear thought, because if he would have been in his right mind, he would have realized what a ridiculous notion that was. He jerked away as though he'd been burned, his face red.

"Ah, sorry," he mumbled hurriedly. "Got carried away again…"

"I don't mind, though," Italy assured him, turning over at Germany's prompt so that his front could be lotioned. Unfortunately, Germany was too busy mentally scolding himself to hear him.

"Y-you know, er…" Germany began awkwardly, not yet having decided how he was going to finish that sentence and casting around desperately in his mind for something to say to take his mind off the fact that there were strangers sitting mere meters away as he rubbed his oily hands all over Italy's chest. "I, ah… I think I saw some fireworks in the back of the car. We could… could light them off later. You know, when no one else is around."

And then he blushed again, because that sounded a bit suggestive, even though he hadn't meant it to be. He had just been trying his damnedest to ignore the way Italy's nipples felt beneath his hands as he ran his fingers over them lightly. Italy's eyes snapped open excitedly at the mention of fireworks, apparently having missed any innuendo that Germany thought he might have dropped.

"Eh? Really?" he squealed. "Yay! Fireworks on the beach! Waah, Germany does have a romantic side after all! I can't wait!"

That statement puzzled Germany (perhaps he had let it puzzle him a bit more than necessary as he was still trying to distract himself from what his hands were doing). Germany does have a romantic side after all, Italy had said. Did that mean Italy didn't think he was romantic normally? Not that he could blame Italy for thinking that; he was often worried that he was fumbling too much through this whole courtship process. Still, it stung a little to hear Italy say that because Germany really was trying his hardest. He was reading all the most highly recommended books on relationships, watching interactions between the other nations that he knew were dating (Spain and Romano, Sweden and Finland, America and England, Austria and Prussia) to see what worked for them (though admittedly, he wasn't sure any of them were the best role models), and he had even flipped through a few romance novels.

Did Italy mean that he wanted more romance from him? Was it ok to kiss and hold him more often, then? But there was more to being romantic than holding and kissing your partner. His books frequently mentioned that spontaneity was an important part of romance. Perhaps Italy didn't necessarily want more affection but simply for him to administer it in a more random and sporadic fashion. Then again, didn't Italy just hint that he had wished Germany would stop the random kisses when he had pressed one to his little heart-shaped freckle? The blond was so confused. What did Italy expect from him? He wanted to be a good lover to him; he just didn't know how. Maybe he could figure it out if he thought about it a little longer.

"You're done," Germany said distractedly.

He squeezed some more sun block into his hand and rubbed it hurriedly on himself. If he gave Italy the chance, he was sure the other man would offer to do it for him and that was the last thing he wanted now that he was pretty sure that couple over there was staring at them.

Italy sat up and stretched happily before turning to face Germany with a smile. "Mm, thank you! Germany always touches me so gently! It feels nice!"

He looped his arms around the blond's broad shoulders and kissed his lips gratefully. Germany latched onto that comment faster than France on a hottie. So Italy liked it when Germany touched him? Maybe he should try to touch him more? Well, he could handle that when they were alone together but out in public was another matter. Though, now that he thought about it, the books always said that one had to be willing to make sacrifices in order for a relationship to really work. Germany wanted this relationship to work more than anything so perhaps he would just have to swallow his pride. Either that or he would have to come up with a way to do it subtly so that no one else would notice.

"Hey, hey Germany," Italy twittered, "how long do I have to wait before I can go swimming? Ten more seconds? Five more seconds?"

"Ten minutes ought to be long enough," Germany answered.

"Eeh? That long?" Italy complained. "That's even longer than it takes to boil pasta!"

"I'm sure you can think of some way to amuse yourself for ten minutes," Germany assured him. "You're a master at finding distractions during training; I don't see why you can't do it now as well."

The Italian pouted briefly before letting his face brighten again. "I know! Let's build a sandcastle together!"

"A sandcastle…" Germany repeated slowly. Actually, he couldn't recall ever having made one before.

"Don't you know how, Germany?" Italy asked brightly. "It's ok if you don't; I'll teach you!"

Germany hesitated. Wouldn't everyone else think it was strange to see two grown men making a sandcastle together? But then images of Italy sitting in his lap and guiding his hands patiently, rewarding him with a sweet smile and a kiss when he did something right flooded his mind and Germany felt any desire to protest quickly crumble. Besides, the couple that he was pretty sure had been staring at them was getting up to leave. Germany sighed. He used to display only his most respectable face to the public and now, here he was, the freaking Bundesrepublik Deutschland, reduced to making sandcastles like a child. The most disturbing part was that he didn't even really mind all that much.

The sandcastle turned out to be, like most things Italy created, fairly epic. It was a true work of art, and though it wasn't especially vast, the tallest spire was level with the top of Germany's head. The children, two girls who looked to be under seven years old, from the family of four on the other side of the beach had seen the masterpiece being constructed and had shyly come over to watch. When Italy had seen their eyes sparkling with wonder, he'd addressed them with a smile.

"Hello there!" he said cheerfully. "Would you girls like to help? I was just thinking about looking for some shells to decorate the outside."

The girls' faces lit up as they glanced at each other excitedly and nodded, accepting Italy's invitation.

Italy grinned at their enthusiasm. "Yay, I'm so happy! Hey, hey, Ger… Ludwig! They're gonna help us! Isn't that great?"

"Hmm, yes, thank you," Germany told them. "I'll leave the shells to you three, then."

Italy bent down in the sand and began sifting through it with his delicate, artistic fingers while one of the girls ran back to where her parents were sitting to get a bucket to contain the shells they collected. Her short legs carried her back to Italy and her sister at a clumsy run. Germany peered around the corner of the castle at the three of them, happily gathering shells. The youngest girl was proudly showing Italy a little sand dollar she had found. He examined it with as much curiosity and interest as the children and congratulated her on a great find. Germany could feel his heart fluttering. He always loved watching Italy interact with his citizens, and he was especially adorable with the children.

Germany realized that he was smiling softly and blushed, hurriedly hiding behind the castle wall again before anyone saw. But even after he had realized that he was smiling and made efforts to hide that smile away, he found himself unable to force his face into its usual controlled expression. Germany tried to focus on fortifying the sandcastle wall, but invariably his eyes were drawn back to Italy and his two young companions. To his horror, when he peeked inconspicuously over at them, Italy was staring back at him. The Italian smiled sweetly and gestured for him to come over. Germany felt his already blushing cheeks grow a bit hotter but obeyed awkwardly.

"Ludwig was looking really happy just now," Italy commented in a sing-song voice. "What were you thinking about?"

"I, er… ahem. N-nothing," Germany mumbled.

"That's the same face Daddy makes when he looks at Mommy," the older girl announced. "Only he doesn't turn all red like that."

"Mommy calls it his lovey-dovey face," the younger girl volunteered. "Mr. Ludwig was making the lovey-dovey face at Mr. Feliciano!"

Italy giggled, his own cheeks pinking slightly with pleasure as Germany went scarlet. Was he really so transparent that even these two children were aware of his feelings? Granted, Italians, even very young ones, did seem to have a special sixth sense when it came to detecting things like that. Regardless, it didn't sit well with him. If his love for Italy was so obvious that even young children could recognize it, then who knew how many other people had noticed. Who knew how many nations had noticed. Germany was so embarrassed by the thought that he wanted to bury his head in the sand.

Thankfully, some of his mortification was alleviated when the girls' parents called to them that it was time to go home. The two girls pouted, reluctant to leave their new friends and the splendid sandcastle. Then their mother mentioned something about homemade gelato and the two of them jumped to their feet. Italy bid them a cheerful farewell as the older girl carefully deposited the gathered shells near the castle so that they could take their bucket home with them. He took Germany's hand and squeezed it affectionately after their new friends' car had disappeared from sight.

"Shall we finish our castle?" Germany asked stiffly, silently begging Italy not to comment on what had just happened.

Italy smiled and nodded, leading Germany over to the structure. After pressing the shells into the soft sand walls under Italy's artistic direction, the two of them stood back, side by side, admiring their finished work.

"It kind of looks like a mix between the Castello Estense from my house and the Schwerin Castle at Germany's house," Italy noted thoughtfully. Then he squeezed Germany's arm playfully and grinned up at him. "It's almost like our castles got married and had a baby!"

Germany tilted his head uncertainly, not really sure what to make of that comment. He wondered if perhaps Italy was trying to hint at something, and then wondered if the other man was even capable of subtlety. The question was erased from his mind when Italy leaned in and kissed his cheek.

"I might like to try that with Germany some day," he said softly.

Germany bit his lip as his blush flared up again but now that no one was around besides them, it hardly seemed worth it to get all worked up over that statement. Besides, he had been thinking the exact same thing himself. Germany shuffled his feet nervously in the sand for a moment before returning the kiss softly on Italy's lips.

Italy sighed when they'd parted and rested his head against Germany's chest. "All that building wore me out a little."

Germany glanced around to make sure that no one was looking before he stroked his hair with one hand while wrapping his free arm around the smaller man's waist. "I think I saw a gelato cart over near where the car is parked. Shall we go get some?"

Italy's head jerked up so that he could fix Germany with a wide-eyed look of surprise. "Really? Germany wants to eat gelato?"

"Well, it's hot and we're at the beach," Germany said with a small frown. "And the desserts at your place never disappoint. Is it really that surprising?"

"I thought Germany hated gelato!" Italy laughed, looking relieved. "You always used to get so mad at me when I'd eat it!"

Germany rolled his eyes. "That's because you insisted on eating it at the most inappropriate times! Besides that, you'd eat until your stomach hurt! And then I'd have to watch you suffer for a good hour afterwards!"

The Italian grinned sheepishly. "Oh, yeah, I guess I did do that, didn't I? I'd completely forgotten! Anyway, what flavor do you like, Germany? I want strawberry and chocolate!"

Germany blushed slightly as images of Italy crawling into his lap to share a cone with him danced in his mind. "Strawberry and chocolate sounds good to me."

"Ooh, with whipped cream and candy sprinkles!" Italy added.

"Yes, er…that sounds good, too," the blond agreed.

"Wow, Germany and I like all the same things!" Italy noted. "For some reason, that makes me really happy!"

Germany granted his lover a small smile, glad that he could bring him happiness so easily. The Italian squeezed his hand affectionately as he led the way to the gelato cart. The way Italy was holding his hand so unabashedly as they approached the more populated side of the beach caused Germany to redden again. He tried to tug Italy closer so that it wouldn't be so obvious but the other man had locked his sights on the gelato cart and was being drawn toward it as if by magnetic force. Once they had drawn level with the cart, Italy smiled up at him brightly.

"Would Germany like to try ordering our gelato?" he asked.

The two of them had been teaching each other helpful phrases in their languages and while Italy's German was still weak, Germany's Italian was progressing fairly well though there was certainly room for improvement. Germany nodded, then cleared his throat and stepped up to place his order. Italy listened proudly and nodded appreciatively at his boyfriend's skill. He found Germany's accent and the way he still stumbled over a word occasionally to be adorable. Italy grinned at him as he returned with a large cone of gelato in hand.

"Waah, Germany did such a good job!" he chirped. "I'm impressed!"

Germany couldn't help smiling back slightly at the compliment. "Well, I had the best teacher anyone could ever ask for," he mumbled, causing Italy to giggle softly, his cheeks warming beautifully at the flattery.

"But you did make one little mistake," Italy continued. "Germany only ordered one gelato."

The blond blushed and looked down at his feet. "I er… I thought maybe… maybe we could share, so…"

Italy laughed again. "Oh, so that's it! Germany wanted to share a gelato with me! How cute!"

Germany's blush deepened. He had muttered his explanation quietly so that no one else would hear but Italy had been as blatant as ever about announcing it to the world. Now he was sure that the man working at the gelato stand was staring at them, and maybe a few other people as well. Feeling the weight of their eyes on his back, Germany decided to make a quick retreat back to their towel with Italy following at his heels, apparently oblivious to the embarrassment he had caused his lover.

Italy tugged Germany down to sit on the towel and crawled into his lap, making himself right at home. This of course made the blond uncomfortable because he was pretty sure they were still being watched. But when Italy positioned himself between Germany's legs, leaning back against his bare chest so that Germany could feel the warmth and softness of his wonderfully smooth, tan skin against his, all desire to scold him was effectively crushed. This was turning out to be just as he'd imagined in his little fantasy.

His chest was flooding with that odd cocktail of embarrassment and love-struck fluttering that he so often experienced around Italy. Nervously, he relinquished control of the gelato to Italy, curling his muscular arms gently around his lover's middle. Italy dug into the frozen treat happily, letting out a little hum of enjoyment before offering it to Germany. The blond leaned his head over Italy's shoulder and took a lick of gelato.

It took perhaps twenty seconds at most for Italy to wind up with whipped cream and a sprinkle on the tip of his nose. Germany stared at him for a second. That wouldn't do, letting Italy walk around the rest of the day with a dirty face. He had to keep his boyfriend looking respectable (or at least inasmuch as it was possible for someone who acted like Italy did to look respectable). Germany leaned over and removed the whipped cream and sprinkle with a kiss on the tip of his nose. Italy tilted his head and smiled questioningly at him, clearly wondering what had prompted that kiss. Germany's cheeks flushed.

"Sorry," he muttered. "You had whipped cream on your nose."

"Oops," Italy said sheepishly. "Thanks."

Germany cleared his throat awkwardly and leaned in for another lick of gelato. He did so at exactly the same time as Italy. Italy's petit pink tongue met his, covered in cold, creamy dessert. The touch sent a shockwave through Germany's body, the normal sensuality of mouth-to-mouth contact heightened by the presence of warm sunshine and the light, fruity flavor of the gelato. He caught Italy's tongue with his and guided it out of the Italian ice cream treat and into his mouth.

Italy responded enthusiastically, his tongue tangling skillfully with the German's, exploring his mouth for hints of strawberry and chocolate. Germany alternately nipped gently and lapped at Italy's sweet, milky lips with a playfulness that had never shown itself outside the safely private confines of the bedroom. He could feel his cheeks heating up but Italy's mouth was too delicious to pull away from just yet. Eventually, they separated for air, but only after Italy had made absolutely certain that he had snatched every bit of gelato flavor from Germany's mouth.

"I didn't think there was any way I could like gelato more than I already did," Italy breathed, "until I found out how it tasted on Germany."

And Germany, although he was hardly capable of forming a coherent thought at that moment, privately agreed vice versa.

Germany returned from throwing away the paper covering that had been wrapped around their gelato cone to find Italy yawning and rubbing his eyes tiredly. The blond glanced at his watch. It was about three thirty, which was usually when Italy took his siesta. Failing to bite back a small smile, Germany sat back down on the towel next to Italy. There was only one sunbather left on the beach now, and her head was turned away from them so Germany didn't feel quite so uncomfortable anymore. He touched his lover's cheek softly, running his thumb over the velvety skin there.

"Tired?" he asked quietly.

"Mm, I think I'm ready for a siesta," Italy confirmed, stifling another yawn. He smiled lethargically up at Germany. "Will Germany hold me while I'm asleep?"

The other man's cheeks pinked brightly. It was another one of his closely-guarded secrets, but there were few things he loved doing with Italy more than holding him while he napped and watching him sleep. After all, Italy didn't cause trouble when he was sleeping, and since he was a rather heavy sleeper, Germany could kiss and stroke him to his heart's content without having to worry about the adverse effects of going overboard. Germany glanced around to make sure that there was no one around besides the single sunbather before pulling Italy eagerly into his lap.

Italy made a little "ve~" of happiness as he nuzzled his cheek against Germany's chest. Germany's heart warmed immensely as he watched Italy's eyelids flutter sleepily, his long eyelashes brushing ever so lightly against the tops of his warmth-flushed cheeks. Italy's full, succulent lips made contact with the skin of Germany's partially exposed chest, unintentionally at first, before pressing a lazy, grateful kiss there. The taller man returned the kiss shyly on the top of Italy's head.

Italy's breathing slowed and evened out as he sank quickly into dreamland. Germany's lips curled into another warm, gentle smile as he looked down at his little lover, his cheeks warm with adoration. He loosened the delicate fingers that were curled in his open button-down shirt, allowing them to take hold of his fingers instead, and brought them to his lips so that he could kiss his knuckles.

Now this was what Germany called bliss: sitting on a warm, white-sanded beach with the one he loved most in all the world curled up and napping in his arms, listening to the gentle surge and retreat of the waves. If he only had a lawn chair and a frosty beer, he would be in absolute heaven. He sighed happily and hugged Italy closer, kissing his forehead.

That one stubborn curl fluttered tantalizingly in the breeze and Germany felt the sudden urge to stroke it. Now that he and Italy were in a relationship, he understood the effect it had on the other man. Of course, it would be totally inappropriate to exploit the curl in public, whether the place was almost completely deserted or not. Besides that, Germany respected Italy and would never dream of touching it when he was powerless to stop him if he wasn't in the mood. Still, he couldn't help being entranced by it when it bobbed teasingly in the wind like that.

It was about a half an hour later that Germany's less-than-pure musings were interrupted when Italy began to squirm in his arms. The blond frowned slightly, looking down at the little Italian. Was he having a nightmare? Italy did tend to be susceptible to them, though usually he was able to avoid them if Germany held him as he slept. But Italy's face wasn't contorted with pain and sadness. In fact, as Italy squirmed again, a little giggle escaped his lips.

That was when something warm and fleecy grazed Germany's knee. He started slightly and looked over to see what had touched him. A tiny white puppy was bouncing around excitedly beside him, licking happily at Italy's toes, its little tail appeared to be wagging at mach one. Germany, being a dog lover, reached out to scratch the puppy's floppy ears, earning a playful little yip and a swipe across the wrist with a wet pink tongue before the little creature went back to licking Italy's toes. Italy giggled again and sat up in Germany's lap, rubbing the sleep from his sparkling amber eyes. Germany kissed his cheek.

"Ooh! I was wondering who was licking my toes!" Italy chirped as he spotted the dog. "For a minute, I thought it was Germany!"

Germany reddened brilliantly. "Why on earth would I-?"

"What a cute doggy!" the Italian cooed, stroking its fleecy head. "Where did she come from?"

Germany was about to answer that he hadn't the slightest idea when a voice interrupted him.

"Hana-Tamagoooo! Where are youuuu?"

The blond frowned slightly. That voice sounded a bit familiar, but who did he know who owned a tiny white dog? And furthermore, he couldn't think of anyone who would give their pet such a ridiculous name. That was when the dog's owners appeared at the top of the mount of sand that separated the parking lot from the beach.

Germany thought his heart had stopped. Not only was he about to be caught cuddling Italy in his lap by three people, he was going to be caught by three people he knew. Sweden, Finland and Sealand were drawing ever closer, and to make matters worse, Italy was waving to them over Germany's shoulder, calling that they had found Hana-Tamago. Germany jerked away from Italy as though the smaller man was on fire.

"Ah, there she is!" Finland sighed with relief, hurrying forward to retrieve the wayward pooch. "Bad girl, Hana-Tamago, running away and bothering these nice… Oh, Germany, Italy! Hello! What a coincidence, meeting other nations at the beach!"

"Yes, erm… hello," Germany replied awkwardly, avoiding the other man's gaze as his cheeks burned.

"Hello!" Italy trilled, waving cheerfully. "Waah, I didn't know you three were on vacation at my place!"

"I'm sorry, I would have told you ahead of time but this trip was a surprise from Su-san for our anniversary," Finland explained apologetically.

"Oh, how nice of him!" Italy grinned. "And you remembered the beach I recommended to you!"

"Yes, thank you for telling us about this place!" Finland said politely. "It's beautiful!"

"G-Germany…!" a nervous voice piped up. Germany lifted his head to look at the boy who could have been a younger version of England. Sealand smiled a bit bashfully, shuffling his feet in the sand and blushing a little as Germany made eye-contact. "Um! Hi! It's nice to see you!"

Germany nodded, feeling a bit uneasy. "Hello, Sealand."

Ever since Germany had sent that diplomat to Sealand back in 1978, Sealand had sported a rather obvious crush on him and ran around telling anyone who would listen that Germany acknowledged him as a country. This was, of course, not true, and Germany had tried to clear up the misunderstanding on several occasions, all of which were completely ignored by the micronation. Germany didn't really know how to handle the boy's affections, and even though he didn't reciprocate them, he felt like a social deviant even simply being on the receiving end. It made him especially uncomfortable when Sealand displayed his feelings for him in front of Sweden and Finland. He had pretty good relations with the two of them and didn't want them ruined because of some misunderstanding that he had impure intentions toward their adopted son.

"I drew you a picture the other day!" Sealand announced proudly. "But, um… I didn't know I was going to see you today so I didn't bring it…"

Germany cleared his throat and threw an apologetic, slightly pleading glance at Sweden, who was as unreadable as ever. "I, ah… thanks."

"Well, we'll head down that way a bit so that we don't disturb you," Finland said, much to Germany's relief. "Sorry to have interrupted your date."

Germany went red and made a feeble attempt to hide it behind his hand. Did everyone know that they were dating? He wasn't going to try and tell people that they weren't dating because it would be a lie and he knew it would probably make Italy burst into tears, but it bothered him. How did they know? Was his love for Italy really that obvious? Should he work harder to try and hide his affection for the other man in public or should he take comfort in the fact that a lot of people seemed to know already and not hold back any longer? His pride didn't allow for any option but the former. That was when Sealand burst into the conversation.

"They're not dating, Mom! Jeez, don't just assume things!"

Finland looked embarrassed by his son's lack of etiquette. "Sealand! Where are your manners? Apologize right now!"

"But I didn't-!" the boy began.

"Sealand," Finland cut in sternly.

"Listen t' y'r moth'r," Sweden ordered, looking threatening as always.

Sealand hung his head as his cheeks reddened over having been scolded in front of his crush. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"Yes, very sorry," Finland added, looking much more sincere. "See you later, then."

The three of them were just about to turn and head farther down the beach when Italy stopped them.

"Wait! You don't have to leave," he told them cheerfully. "Stay and play with me and Germany! It's more fun with more people, right?"

"Oh, well…" Finland looked uncertainly at Germany who was making a face like he wished he could just disappear. "If, um… if it's ok with Germany…"

Italy turned his pleading amber gaze on his boyfriend, giving him the puppy eyes that he knew Germany couldn't resist. Add to that the fact that Hana-Tamago was also fixing him with literal puppy eyes, albeit unintentionally, and Germany felt completely powerless. "Go ahead," he acquiesced, trying not to sound as put out as he felt. It wasn't that he minded Sweden or Finland or even Sealand (well, ok, Sealand made him uncomfortable, but he couldn't really say he disliked the boy), but he had been rather enjoying his quiet, relaxing day with Italy.

"Hurray! Thank you, Germany!" Italy cheered, throwing his arms around Germany's broad shoulders and kissing his cheek in thanks.

Germany went beet red, the impulse to shove Italy away in embarrassment rising within him. He even got his hands up there to push him but when he felt that soft tan skin against his palm and saw the sweet smile that Italy was aiming at him, he melted. Still blushing, he stroked Italy's hair gently.

"Hey!" Sealand snarled at Italy, stomping his foot rather pointlessly in the soft sand. "Who the heck said you could kiss Germany? You're not just gonna take that, are you, Germany?"

"Sealand," Finland said severely, "one more rude comment out of you and there'll be no video games or computer for two weeks. Now apologize again."

"S-sorry," Sealand grumbled bitterly, not sounding the least bit sorry.

Finland sighed and shook his head. "I really am sorry about him. We'll have to work a little harder on his manners."

Sealand pouted and kicked idly at the sand, though Germany was pretty sure that he was aiming at Italy while trying to make it look as though he wasn't aiming at him. Italy seemed oblivious as usual however, standing up and stretching leisurely.

"I know!" Italy twittered. "Let's all go swimming together! I've waited long enough, right, Germany?"

"Yeah, it's been about three and a half hours since you put on your sun block," Germany nodded, glancing at his watch. "You should be ok now."

"Yay~!" Italy whooped. "Hey, did you bring a beach ball, Sealand? We play catch!"

Sealand looked like he was going to refuse but then a mischievous glimmer appeared in his eyes. "Yeah, I've got one."

Germany frowned at Sealand. The boy had the distinct look of someone who was up to no good. He didn't really think that Sealand would do anything truly horrible or that he was capable of causing too much damage, but when it came to his sweet Italy, the love of his life (as embarrassing as that was to admit), he wasn't willing to take any chances. Germany stood warily and positioned himself between Italy and Sealand. The mischievous glint vanished from Sealand's eyes, to be replaced by a mushy smile.

"Are you gonna play too, Germany?" he asked hopefully.

"Hmph, I might," Germany replied vaguely.

Italy giggled and took Germany's hand. "Ve~ Germany's gonna play! I'm so happy to hear that!"

The blond man cleared his throat and reddened at the way Italy was holding his hand so unabashedly in front of all these people. Even so, he couldn't bring himself to pull away. Italy's slender, warm fingers were intertwined with his and their palms fit together pleasingly. He tried to tug Italy closer so at least their handholding wouldn't be quite so obvious, but Sealand had already seen.

His fear of losing his computer and video game privileges for two whole weeks kept him from yelling at Italy again, but Germany could see that it was taking all the self-control he possessed to restrain himself. The boy's face was flushed with anger and jealousy and he was biting his lip to hold back the angry words he longed to hurl at the Italian. Thankfully, Finland joined them before Sealand exploded, clad in swimming trunks emblazoned with his flag.

"Coming, Su-san?" he asked sweetly.

Sweden sat down on the towel and stroked the white puppy that was chewing happily on the strap of their beach bag. "S'meone's gotta watch H'na-T'mago."

Finland looked disappointed, though he understood Sweden's reasoning. "Alright then… I guess it's just the four of us." He smiled at his son, Germany and Italy before leading the way toward the ocean, Germany behind him, still holding on to Italy's hand, and Sealand bringing up the rear.

"I won't lose to you, Jerk Italy," Sealand hissed, just loud enough for Italy and Germany to hear.

"Ve?" Italy said, tilting his head adorably in puzzlement. "Ve?"

"Sealand," Germany said, keeping his voice low so that Finland wouldn't hear. "I trust you aren't planning to hurt Italy."

"Wh-what?" Sealand stammered. "No… of… of course not."

"Good," Germany replied. "Because I… I wouldn't be happy if anyone tried to do anything to him."

He could feel his cheeks growing warm again, and took a deep breath to try to calm himself. Italy's safety was much more important to him than his own dignity, even though he was pretty sure Sealand wasn't capable of doing much damage. Sealand pouted again, running ahead of them all and dunking his head under the water to hide his embarrassment and bitterness. Germany did feel a bit bad about hurting Sealand's feelings like that, but he was trying to be as gentle as possible while still getting the necessary message across.

Italy skipped cluelessly after Sealand, pulling Germany along with him, and hopping eagerly into the water. He shivered slightly in the cool water. Without thinking, Germany immediately pulled him into his arms, trying to warm him. Italy looked back at him curiously.

"If it's too cold, you can get out," Germany told him softly, touching a tiny kiss to the rim of his lover's ear. "I'd hate for you to catch cold."

Italy smiled at him. "Germany is always trying to keep me safe. But I think I'll be ok; it's only a little bit chilly. Once I get used to it, I won't even notice the temperature, right?"

Finland giggled. "You two make a nice couple."

Germany suddenly realized what he was doing and jerked away, his face scarlet once more. Sealand humphed irritably. Then he got that mischievous look in his eye again. Germany looked on in exasperation as Sealand gave a loud fake sneeze and hugged himself, his body shaking with exaggerated shivers.

"Brr, this water is freezing!" he whined. "I feel like I'm gonna turn into an ice cube! I'll probably die if someone doesn't come help me."

The blond man rolled his eyes as Sealand faked another sneeze. Finland laughed, wading through the chest-deep water to wrap his arms around his son.

"Your house is a ship moored off the coast of England," he reminded the boy amusedly. "I know for a fact that the water there is much colder than it is here, and you've hardly ever complained about the temperature before, even in the winter."

Sealand looked irritated again. This wasn't the hug he'd been fishing for. "Hmph. Forget I said anything."

Germany watched Finland release the boy, wondering if Finland knew what Sealand had been trying to achieve just now.

Germany had made a fool of himself precisely two more times before he trudged back to shore ahead of the others, embarrassed and discouraged. No matter how he resolved to make more of an effort to hide his affection for Italy in front of the others, he always ended up doing something silly and blatantly love-struck mere minutes later. For example, when he had seen a dark shape moving toward Italy under the water and panicked. He'd scooped Italy up and lifted him onto his shoulders to get him away from the eminent danger. Italy had been scared of course and clung to his head as Germany prepared to beat the shit out of whatever had dared to target his boyfriend. They'd all been rather nonplussed when the dark shape turned out to be nothing but a little shoal of minnows, their fins brushing harmlessly against Germany's leg as they darted past. Italy had laughed and called Germany a "silly worrywart", and he even saw Finland trying to hide amused chuckling behind his hand.

Then when Italy had been hit in the forehead with the beach ball, Germany had hurried over, expecting Italy to be in tears. He'd swept his lover into his arms, kissed the "injured" area and began muttering soothing words to him. Italy had looked up at him in surprise and giggled that he was fine (the ball was only a thin, inflatable plastic one; not capable of doing much damage), but that it was really cute of Germany to be so worried about him. That would have embarrassed him if the two of them had been alone, but having the other nations there to witness it made it worse. Sealand had promptly hit himself in the face with the ball and burst into (fake) tears, obviously hoping to garner the same reaction but Germany had been too busy being mortified to even notice.

"I… I've had enough swimming for now," Germany mumbled, turning abruptly on his heel and marching toward shore, his spine as stiff and straight as a ramrod. "You three have fun."

And with that, he made his hasty retreat before he could destroy his dignity any further. Sweden was sitting on the towel that had been set up next to Germany and Italy's, absently playing tug-o-war with Hana-Tamago. He watched Germany's approach silently and continued to say nothing even as Germany plopped down on his own towel. Germany would have preferred to retreat to solitude, but he basically trusted Sweden not to comment on what he had just witnessed, if he had been paying attention at all. Germany pulled his knees up to his chest, folded his arms on top of them and buried his face in his arms, hoping that the ocean-chilled flesh there would help cool the heat from his face.

The two of them sat in reticence for a few seconds before Sweden, surprisingly, spoke up. There was a gentle clattering of ice cubes in a cooler being shifted and the clink of a glass bottle. Then Germany felt something wet and freezing cold lightly touch his shoulder. He looked up to see Sweden's penetrating gaze fixed on him.

"Beer?" he offered.

Germany blinked stupidly in surprise for a moment before accepting the bottle that was being passed to him, muttering his thanks. He was handed a bottle opener shortly after. Germany took a long pull from the bottle, feeling his nerves calm ever so slightly as the cold, bitter liquid washed over his tongue. He glanced over at Sweden casually and found the man still studying him, his face unreadable as usual. Sweden didn't look embarrassed to have been caught staring; after a moment, he calmly turned his eyes back to the sea where Italy, Finland and Sealand continued to play.

"'S tough, 'sn't it?" Sweden grunted.

"Hm?" Germany asked intelligently, surprised that Sweden seemed interested in conversation. He was pretty sure he could count the number of times he had discussed non-business related topics with the Nordic nation on one hand. Germany was actually kind of curious what the man might want to talk about. To his even greater surprise, Sweden's cheeks went pink, the coloring standing out in stark contrast to his fair skin.

"Lovin' s'meone that much 'n' wantin' to prove 't to 'em 'very sec'nd of th' day, but bein' 'fraid 'f scarin' 'em off," he mumbled.

Germany could feel his face heating up again. This was quite possibly the last topic he'd ever expected to discuss with Sweden, of all people. It wasn't that he'd assumed him incapable of romantic thoughts; it was more that he seemed the type to express those thoughts only to his partner, and through actions rather than words. After all, he had seen Sweden doting on Finland on several occasions and could tell, despite his woefully inexpressive face, that he cared deeply for the other man. But now that he thought about it, Sweden seemed like the type of guy who might be able to understand the uncertainties Germany was going through in his relationship with Italy. Perhaps talking with him would help him clear up a few things. Now if only this topic wasn't so damn uncomfortable…

"I… ahem, I know exactly what you mean," Germany admitted as he swirled his beer absentmindedly. "And even when the situation is appropriate, you don't know exactly how to express your, ah… feelings."

Sweden nodded in agreement. "'S ev'n worse wh'n you're out 'n public 'n' y' know people 're lookin'… 'mbarr'ssin'."

"I couldn't agree more," Germany sighed.

The two of them looked at each other, suddenly filled with the sense of a spiritual bond forged through having suffered the same hardships. The corner of Sweden's mouth quirked upward ever so subtly as he held out his bottle of beer in an invitation for a toast. Germany mirrored the tiny smile, clinking their bottles together softly and taking a drink.

"You and Finland have been together for quite some time now, haven't you?" Germany pointed out. "Whatever arrangement you've found must be working. I was kind of hoping maybe you could offer some…"

"'Dvice?" Sweden finished for him when the other man trailed off.

"Ah, sorry, I don't mean to pry," Germany said quickly when Sweden didn't continue, his face coloring. "It's just that Italy and I are still a fairly recent couple, so…"

Sweden waved his worries aside. "'S all 'bout c'mmun'cation ."

Germany stared. Somehow, the advice that he needed to be communicative with his partner coming from Sweden, who was known for being a man of few words, struck him as ironic. Sweden stopped there without clarifying, so Germany had to ask him for more details. "Communication… For example?"

"Try 'skin' 'im what 'e wants," Sweden elaborated. "'F you try s'methin', 'sk 'im 'f 'e liked it. 'S 'mbarr'ssin', b't 'f y' wanna keep your wife happy, y' j'st gotta do 't."

Germany processed this silently. Now that Sweden told him this, it seemed obvious. If he was worried about whether he was keeping Italy happy or if he liked being kissed or held or touched, then the easiest way to put his uneasy mind at rest would be to simply ask the man himself. Germany sighed internally, wondering just how long it would have taken him to figure that out on his own if Sweden hadn't told him.

"Communication… I see," Germany mused aloud. "Thanks, I'll try that."

Sweden granted him another tiny quirk of the lips in return. "Y' c'n already kiss 'im 'n front 'f 'ther people. Took m' a year 'r two t' b' able t' do that. 'M jealous."

Germany went scarlet. "Believe me, if it wasn't completely reflexive, I wouldn't be able to do it either. My body just moves without my brain's permission…"

"'Sn't it fine like that?" Sweden shrugged. "Seems t' make 'im happy."

"…Hope you're right," Germany mumbled.

"Germany~!"

The German looked up to see Italy emerging from the sea, his arms spread wide open in preparation for a hug. Sealand and Finland were following close behind, Sealand trying to overtake Italy. Unfortunately for the boy, the only time Italy ran faster than when he was coming in for a hug was when he was retreating. This made it quite impossible for him to pass the Italian. Germany and Sweden stood in unison, towels in their arms for their respective companions. Sweden caught Sealand around the middle, lifting him into his arms and pulling a towel around his son's shoulders before going to meet his "wife". He wrapped the towel around Finland, still holding a struggling Sealand (who was quite obviously mortified by the fact that his father was treating him like such a child in front of Germany) as he leaned down and kissed Finland's lips in greeting.

Germany, meanwhile, was bracing himself for impact, digging his feet into the sand to ground himself. Italy jumped into his arms at full speed, wrapping his legs around Germany's waist like an octopus. Germany sighed, red faced as he accepted Italy's affection, and began helping his lover get dried off. He glanced over to make sure that the Nordic family was occupied before capturing Italy's lips softly in his own. Italy purred happily as he returned the kiss without a hint of shyness.

"Ve~ Germany and Sweden looked like they were having fun together," Italy commented cheerfully. "What were you talking about?"

Germany and Sweden looked over at each other, then at their lovers, their cheeks warming in unison.

"Sweden was just giving me some helpful advice," Germany mumbled.

"Really?" Italy asked eagerly. "What kind of advice? I want to hear, too!"

"It's… ahem, it's private," the German replied elusively, kicking the sand awkwardly.

Finland smiled knowingly as Italy pouted.

Two hours later, Germany and Italy found themselves completely alone on the beach. Sweden and Finland had gone back to their hotel, dragging a reluctant Sealand with them, and the last sunbather had finally gotten up and left about ten minutes ago. Germany took a deep breath and released it slowly. Now that everyone else had gone, he felt as though, for the first time that day, he could really, fully relax. He glanced over at Italy, who was at his side, resting his cheek against Germany's broad shoulder. Because of the way Italy's head was tilted, Germany couldn't see his face but the other man was being unusually quiet. The blond wondered if maybe he had fallen asleep; after all, his siesta had been interrupted.

"Italy?" Germany said quietly.

To his surprise, Italy looked up at him immediately, offering him a soft smile. Germany's heart throbbed. Italy looked especially beautiful just then, sleepy and content, the contours of his body highlighted by the colorful brilliance of the setting sun. Germany returned the smile, cupping Italy's silken cheek and kissing his lips gently. The German tried to draw away afterwards but Italy pursued him, stealing another kiss and then another.

"I had a lot of fun with Germany today," Italy murmured as he hugged Germany's muscular arm.

"So did I," Germany admitted. "Are you ready to go home? You look like you're starting to get tired."

"Can we stay just a little longer?" Italy requested. "I want to watch the sunset with Germany."

Germany extracted his arm from Italy's grasp and wrapped it around his waist instead, taking hold of Italy's delicate hand and giving it an affectionate squeeze of acquiescence. Italy snuggled into him joyfully. If the Italian had been a dog, Germany was pretty sure his tail would be wagging right now. Thinking of dogs made him remember Hana-Tamago, which in turn made him recall Sweden's advice about being communicative with Italy. Perhaps now would be a good time to give that suggestion a shot. Germany flushed slightly and cleared his throat.

"H-Hey Italy," he began awkwardly. "There's, uh… there's something I want to ask you…"

"I wonder what it could be," Italy replied, the normal playful lilt in his voice dulled by sleepiness.

"I, er…What… What do you want from me?" Germany asked shyly. "I mean as… as a l-lover?"

The Italian looked puzzled. "What do I want from Germany?"

"I mean, um… What can I do to keep you happy?" he mumbled. "I… I don't know what I'd do if you left, so I… just want to know…"

Italy started and looked up at him in shock, his breathtaking amber eyes rapidly filling with tears. "Oh, Germany! Did I do something wrong? Am I not giving Germany enough love?"

The brunette threw his arms around his boyfriend, hugging him desperately and began smothering him in frantic kisses. Germany had to pry him off to get him to stop.

"That's not what I meant," Germany said, blushing. "I know how much you… ahem, I just wanted to know if there's anything I should be doing that I'm not. Or if there's something I'm doing that you don't like."

"I love Germany with all my heart!" Italy cried, latching onto him once more. "Germany already makes me very happy! No one has ever made me happier than Germany makes me! I would never leave you!"

The blond frowned slightly, unable to believe that Italy didn't even have a single complaint. "So there's nothing you would change? Not even one?"

Italy considered this for a moment.

"If there's anything I can do to make you happier, please tell me!" Germany insisted.

"Umm… maybe there are a few little things," Italy mused.

"Ok, like what?" he asked eagerly.

"Hmm… Sometimes I wish Germany would give me more hugs and kisses," Italy admitted.

Germany just stared. That had been the exact opposite of what he had expected Italy to say. He'd always been worried that he'd been kissing and hugging him too much and that the Italian would feel suffocated. "Really? You… really want more?"

"I know it's hard for Germany to do things like that because he's so shy but I just love Germany's hugs and kisses so much! And sometimes Germany says he's sorry for kissing me and I get confused because it's silly to say you're sorry for something that makes the other person feel good."

"Ok…" Germany said slowly. "I'll keep that in mind. Anything else?"

"And it would be nice if Germany smiled more," Italy continued. "Sometimes I see Germany biting his lip a little to keep from smiling and it makes me so sad because Germany has such a cute smile. If Germany is feeling happy, I'd really like it if he'd show it to me."

Germany's lips quirked upwards in spite of himself, drawing a happy purr from Italy and earning him a warm little kiss on each corner of his mouth.

"Anything else?" Germany breathed against Italy's lips before kissing them again.

"Nothing," Italy chirped. "If Germany just fixes those two itty-bitty things, he would be completely perfect!"

"I'll do my best," Germany promised. He stroked the Italian's hair lovingly, meticulously avoiding the curl, regardless of how badly he wanted to touch it right then.

"Hey Germany…" Italy began after a few seconds of silence. "Do I make you happy, too?"

Germany blushed as he tilted Italy's chin up to allow him to witness the gentle smile spreading across his face. "Every day," he answered honestly.

Italy giggled as he ran his slender fingers along Germany's smiling lips and leaned in to experience them once more with his own mouth. Then he snuggled up to his side again to resume their peaceful viewing of the sunset. Germany was more interested in watching his lover's face than the setting sun. Italy stared at the brilliant horizon in silence for a few minutes before his eyelids began to flutter lethargically. The blond's heart warmed again uncontrollably at the sight of Italy falling asleep at his side. He tickled Italy's cheek softly, the way he did when he was trying to calm him after a nightmare. Germany was so entranced with the velvety perfection of Italy's skin that it took him a while to become aware that Italy was shivering.

"I'm starting to get a little bit cold," the brunette mumbled groggily. He shivered again and turned away from Germany to muffle a cute little sneeze. Germany wrapped him up in a towel and scooped him into his arms as he got to his feet.

"Let's get you home and in the shower," he suggested, kissing Italy's forehead. "You've probably got sand in your hair from swimming."

"Can we take it together?" Italy asked hopefully. "Maybe Germany could even help me wash my hair."

Germany looked down at Italy curiously, his cheeks warming rapidly, wondering if he had just imagined the inviting tone he had just thought he'd heard in Italy's voice. Even though Italy's sparkling amber eyes were hooded with sleepiness, there was no mistaking the playfully mischievous and lustful twinkle there. Germany swallowed hard, hugging Italy to his chest, using every ounce of self-control he possessed not to twirl that curl around his finger and give it a nice, sensuous tug right then and there. He could already feel himself starting to get excited and mentally cursed the hours of driving they had ahead of them before they would be back at Germany's house. Italy seemed to sense what he was thinking because he treated him to a deliberately hot and breathy kiss against the crook of his neck.

"Romano is at big brother Spain's for the weekend," Italy assured him, his voice unusually husky. "It's not so far to my house."

Germany clamped his eyes shut. Italy's curl was lingering mere centimeters from his lips, just daring him not to touch it. His cheeks were flushed as deeply as they could be and he could feel himself starting to get weak in the knees. Germany's impressive resolve shattered when Italy shifted his head, letting the curl graze his lips ever so lightly. Before he could stop himself, Germany's tongue was darting out and running along the length of the stubborn piece of hair.

Italy moaned unrestrainedly, burying his face in the junction between Germany's neck and shoulder, thrusting his hips into his boyfriend's. The blond's hand was on Italy's bottom, pushing back against him, trying in vain to pull him even closer. Italy dug his nails into Germany's back and nipped hungrily at his neck as the taller man tugged at the curl with his lips. It wasn't until he felt Italy's hand groping around near his waist, apparently looking for the waistband of his swimming shorts so that he could grant Germany some pleasure as well, that Germany realized what they were about to do in a public place. With every ounce of resolve he possessed, Germany pulled back, blushing and panting.

"W-wait…" he gasped. "Not… not here… just… Home first and then…"

He was such a mess that he couldn't even form full sentences. Italy's was in the same state he was, his excitement-plumped lips beckoning Germany to continue. The smaller man let out a needy little whine and it was almost more than Germany could take.

"Hurry… please," Italy groaned. "…Hurts…"

He pressed himself against Germany again eagerly, as if the other needed clarification as to what exactly was hurting him. Germany forced himself to swallow and breathe past the lump in his throat as he hurriedly gathered up their belongings with shaking hands and stumbled toward the car.

A/N: I feel like I should apologize for this wandering plotless mess… and for leaving you hanging there at the end. I'm starting to get used to writing smut but I'm still pretty vanilla and basically a one-trick pony as far as that goes. Sorry :(

By the way, I didn't pull that Sealand-Germany thing randomly out of my butt. A German man who called himself the prime minister of Sealand lead a small-scale attack on the country, committing treason against Sealand and ultimately being captured and held by Sealand as a prisoner of war. Germany sent a diplomat to Sealand to bargain for the man's release and the prince claimed that this meant Germany acknowledged Sealand as a nation, while Germany says that this meant nothing of the sort. Since Sealand is always trying to get himself recognized as a country, I figured he'd be pretty grateful toward anyone whom he thought acknowledged him. Hence the crush on Germany. Check Wikipedia for more info about this event: http : / en. wikipedia. org/ wiki/ Sealand (remove the spaces)