Russia pinched Italy's hair curl, and the smaller country immediately flushed a bright red. I hit Russia's hand away, but that just pulled at the hair instead of making him release it. Italy let out a pant, then a low moan.
"You want to become one with Russia, don't you?" the taller man leaned down to ask.
"No!" Russia rubbed the hair in-between his fingers. "Ohh... Yess..." The predatory look in Russia's eyes increased, and I ordered him to let Italy go.
"Release that hair at once!" I demanded.
"He seems to like it..." Russia chuckled, and closed his fist around the hair.
"Ohhh! Oh, oh my god, yes! Yes, ahh, ohh, d-don't... Ohhhhhhh!" I punched Russia hard in the face and he finally let go of it. I was furious and upset and protective towards Italy and I guess a little jealous that the large country could make Italy make noises like that. All these emotions fueled the hit and it actually made the big country stagger.
"Who knew you could pack such a punch?" Russia siled, "What's the matter? Not got far enough with him to do that yourself?" I roared and hit him again.
"Come on, Italy, I'm taking you home..." I muttered, taking him by the hand and leading him out the building.
"Any time you want to feel like that again, you know where I am..." Russia waved to Italy.
The next time I saw Russia I confronted him about it.
"How the hell do you know about his hair curl?" I barked.
"It was easy enough to figure out," Russia shrugged, "the way Spain and Romano act in public... They don't know who's watching... I just wanted to see if it was the same for both brothers."
"Stay away from Italy or you'll regret it!" I warned him.
"Brownie promise," he said, holding up his three middle fingers in a salute.