The Car is the German's Favorite Child

"You know, sometimes I think you love your car more than you love me."

Germany looked up from where he was leaning over the hood of his car. Just until now, he was engaged in the careful inspection of a small dent a fallen fir cone left behind on his precious Audi. The guilty fir cone was still lying right next to the dent, after he had tested if the width of the cone would match the dent's size.

Straightening his posture, he addressed Italy. "My car can't take care of itself. You can." Well, at least in theory. History showed just how often Germany had to come and rescue Italy from even the smallest troubles the other had encountered.

"But when I fell down last week and scraped my knee you only yelled at me that I should be more careful while your car practically gets a massage." Italy crossed his arms in front of him, pouting like a small child that didn't get his favorite candy.

Germany wasn't any kind of expert in this field and probably needed to consult a book to be sure, but if years spent with the other nation were any indication, then…Was Italy maybe jealous of his car? But that would be ridiculous!

"If you want more attention you just have to say so. If it's within reasonable limits I shall –"

"But! But that's not how it works!"

Noticing the slightly distressed look on Italy's face, he left his car's side and went over to him. It seemed like this matter, whatever silly thing Italy was making a fuss about now, would take some time to be cleared. To show his willingness to settle any upcoming disagreement and to give some comfort, he put one of his hands on Italy's shoulders. First, he needed to know that the exact problem was.

"Is something wrong?" he asked gently, not wanting to see anything else than a happy smile on the other and willing to do basically anything to achieve that.

"Ve~, I cut my finger when I was making lunch today and you didn't even notice. But as soon as you saw your car, you noticed the tiny dent immediately and fussed over it. And it's so small I can barely even see it. It's like you're cheating on me with your car." Tears were forming in Italy's eyes, only moments from being spilled.

Glancing down at the smaller one's hands, Germany instantly saw the problem and chided himself in his head for not becoming aware of it earlier. While he knew that a small cut wasn't a big deal - it would be healed completely in less than a day - and Italy was once again exaggerating, he also knew that the best way to deal with such things was to just give in and appease his boyfriend. So without delay, he took Italy's left hand into his own. "I'm sorry." He brought the hand to his mouth and kissed the band-aid that was clumsily wrapped around the whole finger. "How about a give you a hand massage as an apology once we're back home?"

"Really?! Ve~, I love Germany's strong but gentle hands! They always feel nice on my body!" he exclaimed, his sad look immediately changed back to his usual happy and carefree one.

With that being said, Italy withdrew his hand from Germany's hold, but only after giving it a strong affectionate squeeze, before he went into the car on the passenger's side, humming a cheerful tune. Germany, while fighting down a blush from the other's blunt words, rounded the car and opened his door to the driver seat. Before he got in though, he gave the hood one last rueful glance, making a mental note to fix it the moment Italy took his daily siesta.