Germany couldn't help but scoff at the nations before him. They rushed to get their papers in some semblance of order, something they should have done days before. He cringed as he noticed the grease and ketchup stains on some of America's Foreign Relations materials.

Not that the other nations were much better, they just didn't wear their uselessness on their sleeves like the younger nation did. Oh how he had to bite back laughter when America's so called father figures let into the younger nation, as though they were much better. Like England with his bloodshot eyes and whisky breath and France limping into the meeting, wearing only a rose. He had to throw the overly amorous nation to the ground and force clothes on him. Only Canada, who for some reason seemed to disappear as soon as Germany laid his eyes on him, was prepared. Which didn't do any good, since he couldn't keep track of the poor nation.

No wonder that their bosses had called him in to run the meeting. His boss had said that it was to bolster positive relations but Germany knew better; he was a glorified babysitter. He was the only one of the whole lot who actually gave a damn about work and order and responsibility. The downside was that this lead him into taking on the work of the lazy and the irresponsible, also known as the rest of the world.

He drummed his fingers against the desk impatiently, trying to get the bumbling nations in front of him to get on with it. America forgot his immigration folder at home but remembered to bring his newest issue of Iron Man. England decided that the best way to rectify the situation was to strangle him with his tie. Germany didn't let himself bang his head on the desk in defeat like he wanted to, such a thing showed weakness.

"Germany, don't you see that this is pointless? Trying to get these two to get along long enough to talk about anything intelligently would probably bring about the end of the world. Why must you drag someone like me from the arms of his beautiful lover only to be bored into insanity?" France asked, almost in hysterics. He then started to stroke Canada's leg, unfortunately in one of the instances where Germany could see him.

"France kindly stop molesting your boyfriend in the conference room."

"But I cannot help it! He's too cute not to touch. How do you expect me to keep my hands off of someone so adorable?"

"Easily," Germany stated, walking over to where France was and physically removing his hand off the blushing nation, "Because we are in public and are supposed to be discussing the futures of your countries not feeling up our boyfriends!"

This was enough to get America and England to stop fighting. England's hand was still around America's tie and America had his hand around England's fist, preventing it from going for his face. Figures that the only thing that could possibly get their attention was another distraction.

"What? What did France say? Does this mean we get to go home?" America asked, perking up.

"No," Germany said, "We haven't even started yet. We must get through all the issues on the agendas written by your bosses before we can even think of going home!"

"Come on man, it's a bust. You should know that these meetings are a waste of time anyway! They aren't for discussing anything on some boring old agenda. They're for jokes and fights and making out in broom closets. You know, all the fun stuff we've already gotten out of the way."

Germany's closed his hands into fists involuntarily. It took all of his self control to force them to unclench. He resisted the urge to wonder who had made out in the broom closet when he hadn't caught anyone leaving the room. The nations sure could be smart when finding a way out of working.

"These meetings aren't created for your enjoyment. Actual work is supposed to happen and if you bothered to take this seriously then you might not have all the foreign relations problems that you do now!" Germany growled. He almost flinched at the hurt look to cross the young nation's face. But Germany could only take so much. He walked over to his chair and sat down, burying his blush of shame behind his own paper work.

"Do not take it so hard, America. You were only speaking the truth. Our poor Germany is probably the only nation in the world who actually enjoys such meetings. You should have sympathy for him, since he is physically incapable of having a good time." France said with a smug grin.

At this Germany drew back stunned. They honestly thought he enjoyed these meetings? Did they really truly believe that he liked playing babysitter to a group of people who should honestly know better? America laughed loudly at France's comment while England fought back a smile. It must be true then, they all thought it.

"So you all believe it? That I would choose to fill my life with paper work and meetings?"

"I hate to say it, but the frog is right. You're the only one among us who doesn't seem to suffer from days upon days locked up in tiny spaces with people we hate discussing boring documents. The rest of us would much rather be home with our lovers but you, you seem to relish in this… stuffiness." England replied.

"You aren't the only ones who have lovers you know. Don't you think I'd rather be home with Feliciano then with you?"

"You may have a lover, but I doubt you know what to do with him," France chimed in. "Poor Italy! Going unloved for so long. He is probably aching from neglect. To think one of the best lovers in the world is stuck with you, a man who probably thinks an orgasm is a kind of food."

The room busted out in laughter at that. Germany's face flushed from both embarrassment and anger. Just because he took his responsibilities seriously they thought he was a neglectful lover. They thought he left someone as beautiful, vivacious and desirable as Italy untouched and unloved. They had the gall to question his abilities in the bedroom!

"Yeah I've always imagined him as a Ken Doll, you know? Good to look at but nothing going on below the belt." America said, grinning.

"That does it! I will not sit here and be…emasculated by the likes of you," Germany almost shouted. "Just because I don't run around constantly hard like France doesn't mean that I'm immune to such desires!" The room fell silent. France put on a face of indignation while the rest of them were just stunned.

"Hey," France began, only to be cut off.

"And another thing! How dare you imply that I am a neglectful lover. Italy is not to be pitied for anything, certainly not for our sex life. I know for a fact that he is more than satisfied."

Germany tried to leave the topic at that. But he couldn't stop looking into the shocked faces surrounding him. That was the most insulting thing of all. They were stunned at the mere idea of Germany possessing sexual desires, not to mention the idea of him putting those desires into practice with any skill. And to think that the rest of the world, save Italy, probably thought the same of him! Germany's sense of decorum shouted at him to leave well enough alone but his pride was begging him to fight against such an insult. His pride won.

"I put everything I have into meetings such as this because I actually take pride in my work and my country but that doesn't mean that work is all I care about! When I come home and find someone as sweet and loving and sexy as Italy waiting for me do you think I spend one second thinking about the four of you? Or meetings and paper work and all this nonsense?" Germany asked.

He took a breath. He could no longer hold in all the years of digs about his romantic life. So many people were shocked to find out that he actually had one or that he could feel love at all. Germany couldn't help the rush of words that came from him next.

"All I'm thinking about is how long it will take me to rip Italy's clothes off and get him to bed. And I can assure you that it's all he's thinking about. This is a man who can spend hours in bed and not run out of the energy or desire for more. Who turns the rutting you four probably consider sex and turns it into an event. If there were metals given out for such things Italy would surely get the gold. And I am not lazy in that department either. I make it a game to count how many times a week I can get him to scream my name out in ecstasy. My best you ask? 14 times. It was that week we vacationed in Milan. He hardly let me leave the hotel room. We were both so exhausted and sore after that week that it was almost like we didn't have a vacation at all."

America turned to England, giving him a traumatized, pleading look. England took that as his cue and said, "You've proved your point, I think. Can you kindly stop it?"

"I don't think so. You see, I can't stop until I'm sure there is no doubt in your minds that I am upholding my duty as Italy's lover."

"Dude we don't doubt anything. Ok, please stop! I really don't need those images in my head!" America pleaded with a panicked look on his face.

"This is coming from the man who compared me to a plastic doll. You should see why I'm not convinced." Germany smiled, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

"Anyway, where was I? Ah. Since you seem to think that I am the same person in meetings as I am at home, I'm guessing you are all under the opinion that I am as forceful and dominant in bed as I am here. And I can be, sometimes. But I don't deny Italy the joys of it. Because when Italy takes the lead it's magical. You don't know how good it feels to be taken until you're taken by Italy. He can make you feel so…special and loved while doing the most filthy, humiliating things to you. And it is about love. That's the most beautiful thing about sex with Italy, every action and every word is so full of love. Because he's so full of love and joy that he can't help but overflow with it. And you think I'd rather be here with you idiots than with him?"

"No! We won't say anything like that again. We swear! We're idiots and jerks and stupid and we'll never question it again just please for God's sake stop talking!" America practically screamed. The rest of them nodded in agreement.

"Look, if you don't say anymore things like that we promise we'll work hard today, alright?" England asked.

"Yes, what England said," France replied. Even he was scarred seeing Germany in this whole new light.

"Good. Because the sooner this is over with, the sooner I can get home to Italy."

The other nations looked up at each other, wearing matching looks of panic.

AN: This was inspired by the song 'But Mr. Adams' from the musical 1776. Specifically from the part where Adams confesses that he has sexual desires as well and everyone is shocked because he's such a hardass. That reminded me of Germany and this was born. It's a great song if you want to listen to it.