Author's note: Hi there!

... I honestly have no idea. XD I've been wanting to write this for a while, but could never dredge up the nerve to. Well, here it is, I guess. My first M-rated fic!

This is officially the closest thing I've ever written to a lemon. I'm waaaay out of my comfort zone here...

Regardless! I hope you enjoy it. It's very short, I know, but it's all I could manage. XD

P.S. Am I the only one who sees their first time going like this?

Naturally Hopeless

Well. This was awkward.

Germany had been dating Italy for a few years now – making the German a constant target for the other nations' teasing, especially France's, Prussia's and, occasionally, America's – but it had never gone beyond hugs and kisses. Now, however, after a heated session of kissing, Italy had somehow ended up lying on his back, with Germany on top of him, and one hand snaking up Germany's vest.

They'd both frozen, staring at each other. Very awkward.

"Um..." Italy said, "so... now what?"

Germany frowned at him incredulously. "Vh-Vhy are you asking me?" he replied.

The close proximity was starting to make Germany feel hot and bothered. If he didn't move soon, his predicament would become a bit too obvious.

It wasn't as if he didn't have a book on the subject – he did – but he'd thought something like this would be planned well in advance, so he'd have time to read through the book again and brush up on the necessary techniques. This was spur of the moment and he wasn't prepared for it. At all.

Italy recoiled in fright. "Sorry... but I've never gotten this far before, so I don't-a really know what to do..."

Germany grunted and looked away. "Vell, it's not like I do, eizer..."

Italy lit up in a bright smile. "Oh, that's true! We're both in the virgin club~!"

"Please don't put it like zat..." Germany paused, glancing at Italy. "So, you do vant to...?"

"Si~! I think I'm ready. Maybe. I'll be sure to make Grandpa Rome proud!"

Oh god, oh god, he actually wanted to... Breathe, Germany, breathe... Why didn't it feel like he was breathing?!

"Germany? Germanyyyy~!" Italy waved a hand in front of his face.

Germany snapped out of his trance. "Huh? Oh... ja..."

Italy beamed. "So, anyway! Since neither of us know what-a we're doing, I guess we can learn together!"

After taking a moment to recollect himself, Germany grunted. "Nein, zat is unacceptable. If ve are going to do zis, zen ve are going to do zis properly!"

"Eh?"

Nodding to himself – while double-checking his copy of The Beginner's Guide to Intimacy for the Hard-hearted German: Boys Love Version – Germany began undressing himself.

Once he was completely bare, he neatly folded his clothes and placed them carefully on the table.

"Alright, Italy..." he said, "now, you-" He turned to see the Italian's clothes already strewn across the floor. He scowled. "Italy!"

"Is it time to prove that Italians are the best lovers yet?" Italy asked with a smile.

Grumbling, Germany bent down to pick up the clothes. He proceeded to neatly fold them.

Sitting on the bed, Germany nodded to himself as he read the book.

"Hmm," he muttered to himself, "it's fortunate I bought ze male version of zis book..." He raised his voice, so that Italy would hear him. "It says ve need some sort of lube to prevent excess tearing..." He looked at Italy. "How about ve use...?"

Italy was sprawled across the bed, fast asleep.

"Pastaaaa..." he murmured.

A vein throbbed in Germany's head. "Italy! Zis is no time for a siesta!"

Italy jumped awake with a yelp. "I surrender!"

Germany heaved a sigh, going back to his book.

"Arrrrgh!" Italy screamed, shaking his head frantically. "It's too big, it's too big! Ow, ow, ow, ow, it hurts, Germany!"

"But...!" Germany replied, floundering. "But ze book said it vas okay to do zat! 'Most lovers enjoy a bit of pain', it said!"

Italy whimpered. "Si, but that book's meant-a for Germans..."

"... Oh..."

Embarrassed, Germany extracted himself and sat back on the bed. Italy rolled over, still whimpering.

"I'm sorry, Italy... I-I really zought ze lube vould help, but..." He gripped his hair in frustration. "But ze book says nozing about Italians! Vhat am I supposed to do?!"

"Just try to be gentler and I'll be fine..."

Germany vehemently shook his head. "Nein! I vill fix zis." He grabbed the book and buried his nose in it. "I vill have to do some more research."

"But, Germany..."

"I vill not allow myself to repeat zis mistake!"

"Well, okay..."

Heat and sweat mingled together, creating a haze of pleasure as the world around Germany melted into oblivion. For an amount of time he couldn't determine, there was only him, Italy and the waves of ecstasy that were clouding his brain.

After what seemed like an eternity, sweet release encompassed their bodies. Germany exhaled a long breath as he extracted himself, finally feeling the hazy cloud evaporate. Breathing came in heavy pants as the pair collapsed on the bed, exhausted. Looking down, however, the German froze.

"Argh... S-Scheisse..." he muttered.

Italy turned to smile lazily up at him. "What's... wrong, Germany?" he asked.

"Ze... sheet..." He pointed to the sticky, sodden sheet. "It's a... mess."

"So?"

"So, I need... to go clean it..."

"Ohhhh, but Germanyyyy... can't that wait?"

"Nein." Germany began tugging at the sheet.

"Noooo... I'm using this one..."

"But I need to clean it!"

"Clean it later..."

"Italy!"

"Just lay with me for now... I'm sleepy..."

Looking at Italy's droopy smile, Germany felt conflicted. He looked at the sheet, then back at Italy, then back down at the sheet.

After a long moment, he heaved a sigh. "You're impossible..."

"Heh... I know~"

He lay down next to Italy, cringing slightly at the sodden sheet. He'd have to make sure to scrub himself extra hard later. As well as the sheet.

A small smile graced his features. "Dummkopf..."

Italy grinned at him. "Hee~" He paused. "Hey, Germany?"

"Ja?"

"Next time, could we try it without the book?"

If Germany was capable of blushing right now, he would have done. He glanced away. "Vell, I..."

"Come on... Grandpa Rome always said it was better natural, anyway!"

"... Vell, I... suppose ve could try it... zough I'm not very knowledgeable on ze subject..."

"It's okay! Now that I have a bit of experience, I'm sure the Roman in me will know what to do! After all... 'Your lover will naturally be Italian, yahoo~!' Right?"

Shaking his head in amusement, Germany lightly bopped him on the head. "You really are a dummkopf..."

The End