AN: Well, it's finally happened...I've branched into APH territory. Speaking of which, I don't own it or the characters, just my random ideas that become random stories. Whelp, here goes my first story for the series. I hope it's not too crappy. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy! I also love reviews btw, especially since I'm concered about the level of crappiness here.

It was the light tap, tap, tap that woke Germany.

There was a moment of reorientation; his blue eyes opened half-lidded while his brain warmed to consciousness.

There was a sound. That sound was a light tapping against glass behind and above him. The glass was the window. Something was being thrown at his window. Repeatedly.

When the process finally came together to form a single thought Germany was awake and ready; he rolled from his bed swiftly and quietly. His deft fingers extricated a revolver from his nightstand as his feet touched the floor. His heavy footfalls remained silent as he strode to the windowpane, mindful of every squeaky board in the floor whose outline he knew as strategically as any map.

As he stepped closer to the window he moved to the side, careful to keep clear of the potential line of fire. With a quick turn he pressed his back flush against the wall and edged to stand beside the shut window where the tap, tap, tap, still obliterated the previous serenity of the night.

Germany held the gun close and high at the ready as he sneaked his other hand toward the latch on the window. In his chest his heartbeat pounded with adrenaline, his breath was hard with exhilaration and anticipation. Germany's fingers reached the latch and he held his breath in that briefest moment of hesitation before he swung the pane open and moved to quickly glance out from the safety of the window's edge.

When no immediate fire came, no bullets, no little tap, tap, projectiles, Germany moved, albeit cautiously, gun outstretched, to peer out the open window to the surrounding area and treeline. When once again no fire came and he had given all likely hiding spots a sweeping glance and a wave of his gun, he moved to stand fully before the window, leaning out to search for the cause of his disrupted sleep.

The moon was dim and the ground was dark; there seemed nothing to be seen. A few nighttime insects continued their springtime serenade in the foliage below, but otherwise all was now silent once more. Finally Germany let out a long exhale of breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and let his shoulders drop minutely from their rigid station. Just, however, as he had put one hand on the window, ready to shut it again, something stirred the bushes below that was most certainly not a mere insect.

"Who's there? Show yourself!"

The unseen creature didn't listen, but scurried from beneath the window, hurrying through the bushes and emanating what might have been curses along the way.

Once again tensed and ready for combat Germany ran full speed from the window and through his room into the hallway, down the stairs and out the door, gun poised to fire as he rounded the wall in search of the perpetrator in hiding. With every ounce of his military training etched into his brain he made his move, thoroughly combing the area.

Or rather, combing the area as thoroughly as any soldier could barefoot and in his underwear.

And then he found them: the trespasser's footprints, just barely visible in the muted moonlight even with his now-adjusted eyes. Surreptitiously he followed them, careful to not tread over a single mark as he quickly made his way.

The footsteps of his foe led him from below his own window, around the corner, alongside the house, then around the corner again, then alongside the house again, then around the corner again...right to his front door.

"Sheiße!"

Germany ran back into his home and up the stairs, cursing his own stupidity the entire way. It was in the hallway, however, that he literally ran into an unexpected obstacle.

He uttered an involuntary "Oomph!" as he met and bounced back off the solid, warm body of another human being. But just as he moved to bring up his gun to the head of this trespassing enemy he heard a single exclaimed word that let his shoulders drop and his tense expression sag in relief.

"Bruder? What are you doing?" Germany sighed as he searched in the dark for the hallway light switch; as with anything involving his brother he felt sure he was about to feel more exhausted than he already did. He was near certain he was about to hear some explanation of the night's events that would make sense to only one of the Germanic brothers.

When Germany's fingertips finally grazed the switch and flipped it, filling the hallway with sudden, intense fluorescent lighting, however, his little remaining hope of a potentially normal, rational, explanation was quickly dashed.

Prussia's back was rigid and his shoulders hunched up like that of a naughty child trying to find an easy way out of some impending punishment.

"Oi, West, what're you doing up? You're not as awesome as me, so you should be sleeping, you need it." Prussia's tone was one Germany knew very well, and it did absolutely nothing to assuage his younger brother's suspicions, nor did the way he remained staunchly facing away. Still, the younger of the two felt it prudent to explain why exactly he was up.

"There was a noise and someone was-Bruder, what is that?"

The edge of what appeared to be two feet poked out just beyond the elder Germanic brother's elbow and he quickly pulled in his arms to conceal his bundle from view.

"Nothing West, just my awesome self, awesome as always!" he finished the boast with a little "kesesese" laugh and then made the fatal mistake of turning his head just slightly to meet his brother's questioning face.

As he turned Prussia's shoulders shifted just enough to expose his cargo a little more to Germany's keen eye and what was most definitely two human feet attached to two human calves up to the knee popped into view. Before Prussia could correct his error, his brother placed one hand on his shoulder and pushed him around til they were looking at each other face to face.

For a brief moment there was silence while Germany gathered his thoughts. Then he started with what he felt was the most logical question. "...Bruder, what are you doing with Italy?"

In his arms lay Italy, sleeping soundly, naked as always, in Prussia's bridal-style hold. For all the jostling the Mediterranean man seemed immune to any unwanted awakening from his slumber.

"Kesesese...West is always complaining about Ita-chan being in his bed so I took him, cause I'm an awesome big brother like that!"

For the time being Germany disregarded the immediate, and ever unanswered, question, "How did Italy get into my bed?"and instead focused on the matter that seemed more pressing, especially with that nasty little feeling that rose in him with things concerning Italy, most especially concerning his brother and Italy.

"Bruder," He spoke slowly and as forcefully as he could while maintaining his dignity. "Give me back Italy."

"But West! You don't want him, and how could I resist Ita-chan? He's so cute!" Prussia bent to rub his cheek against the sleeping Italy's, who breathed a soft "ve," in between light snores.

Somewhere deep in his brain a growing pressure persisted and Germany swore he could feel the hemorrhage about to rupture at any moment. Slowly Germany brought up his gun. When he spoke he was careful to punctuate each word clearly. "Bruder, hand over Italy. Now."

"Come on West! I'll let adorable little Ita-chan sleep with me, kesesese."

His reply came in the form of the harsh click of a cocked gun.

"Verdammt West!" and oh so reluctantly offered up the sleeping Italian bundle to his brother with an angry huff. Said younger, gun-wielding brother put the safety back on the gun, awkwardly tucked in the back of his boxer shorts, pulled his small friend from his brother's clutches, turned on his heel and strode from his brother back toward his own room, ignoring the muttered curses and "awesome me"s echoing behind him.

Before Germany could even cross the few short steps to his bedroom door Italy, who had slept through the intrusion, the kidnapping, and the hostage negotiations, awoke almost as soon as Germany started to move.

"Ve? Captain?" The sleep-dulled voice of his Italian cargo wafted to Germany's ears just as he reached the threshold of his bedroom.

Prussia's string of blasphemous exclamations stopped as soon as Italy's voice hit the air.

"Oi! Ita-chan!" but his call and charged steps were halted by the slam of the door as his brother shut it with a hard kick of his foot. "Verflucht!" rang through the wooden barrier and Germany wasted no time in turning to lock the door.

"Ve? What are we doing Germany?"

Germany paused in his awkward jostling of the doorknob to look down at the bemused man gathered in his arms. Unfortunately for him, however, when Germany looked down his blue eyes met Italy's warm, wide-open brown ones, staring up at him and full of that little something that always managed to unnerve him. A shiver ran up his spine that was not entirely unpleasant, and Germany looked away before he fell too deep into Italy's oddly ensnaring gaze.

"I'm bringing you back to bed," Germany kept his eyes anywhere but on Italy and hoped that, in the darkness of his bedroom, the flush he felt in his face was not visible.

To the German's horror this statement had an effect quite opposite to the calming one he had been aiming for.

"Germany's not kicking me out? Germany's going to let me sleep with him? Ve! Ve, ve, ve," and the smaller man began to kick his feet slightly as he wriggled in his excitement.

Struggling to not drop the squirming bundle of Italian, Germany tightened his grip on the man in his arms and was suddenly painfully aware of Italy's lack of clothing and the mental images that were just barely on the edge of conscience thought. His face felt very close to actually catching fire.

"Well-I-Go back to sleep Italy!"

"Yes Captain!" With a quick salute Italy promptly followed the order and asleep again more quickly than his transporter could have thought possible.

Germany crossed the floor silently and solemnly. He had been perfectly content to bring Italy back to his bed before, but now, conscience of his unconscious decision, his natural state of awkwardness around his Mediterranean friend had fallen swiftly back into place. It was vaguely tempting to actually die of embarrassment.

When he reached the edge of his bed, he stared down at the side where Italy must have slept before being extricated by his meddling brother. The under sheet was rumpled and the mattress and pillow bore the telltale marks of where someone's weight had once been. His face tensed to a near fossilized state, Germany glanced down at the bed and then the face of his sleeping friend, already snoring soft "ve, ve"s, and then back at the bed. He started to shake.

He was about to give Italy carte blanche to sleep in his bed. Not that it hadn't happened nearly every night since they had become friends, but still...He had always tried to dissuade Italy from crawling into his bed at night, or at least gave the impression of trying to. Now, if he did exactly what he was about to do, he was putting Italy in his own bed not because of a forgivable circumstance like a mortal wound or fatal sickness, but out of choice.

He could just do what he would have done any other night, shaken Italy awake and yelled at him for being there and successfully, or the more likely unsuccessfully, thrown him out. There was the floor. He could always put Italy on the floor and let him sleep there, but somehow the idea of putting the sleeping Italy on the cold, hard floor instead of in a comfortable bed seemed very wrong. Too torn to decide on his own, Germany looked down and let Italy's sleeping visage make the decision for him.

Outside the clouds had parted and moonlight streamed freely onto the man's face; his naturally sweet face had taken on a nearly angelic glow under the white light and his normally animated features had relaxed into a most peaceful expression.

Despite the heavy, defeated sigh that Germany heaved as he took in the image, he still felt his own frown fall and his tensed lips slide into an easy smile. With the utmost care he bent and placed Italy back into bed and drew the bed sheet over him, careful to keep his eyes only on Italy's face and away from his unclothed frame, convincing himself of his decision all along the way.

He had promised Italy, sort of, he told himself, and there was no way the crybaby Italy would survive sleeping on the floor; of course, it was perfect reasoning, and he was going to be damned before he acknowledged any other possible motives.

As he finished his work he straightened and placed his hands on his hips, gazing once more at Italy's face as he rolled toward the center of the bed, already perfectly at home. Reluctantly, and which he had maintained purely for the sake of making sure his guest was comfortable, of course, Germany broke his visual hold to walk around to the other side of the bed. At the window he paused momentarily, shutting and locking it, and pushed on it lightly to test the strength of the latch. With a nod and a hum of satisfaction he moved to his side and gingerly slid onto his bed.

Germany stayed on his back, very stiff and tense as he listened to the soft sounds of Italy's breathing. Very, very close was an Italy that he had willingly placed into his own bed, issuing very adorable noises from a very attractive face and the knowledge was making Germany very uncomfortable...especially with that very large part of his brain willing him to move closer and embrace his sleeping friend.

And then, fortunately for the sake of Germany's sleep-deprived, warring mind, there was a sudden pressure that nearly made the emotionally fraught man jump out of his skin. Italy, as through unconsciously aware of Germany's presence, had quickly gravitated to his side and latched on, one arm draped over Germany's chest and the other under his back, with his head resting on Germany's shoulder. Something in his brain told Germany he should move and push Italy off of him, but that voice was very easily drowned out by the overwhelming pleasant sensations being brought on. Even though reasoning said that he should have felt even greater discomfort at the contact, somehow Germany felt himself relaxing and sinking into Italy's touch. With sudden sleepiness tugging at his mind, Germany let himself go and gave into his body's desires, wrapping an arm around Italy's bare shoulders and pulling him in a little closer with his firm grip. With the scent of Italy's hair close to his nose Germany soon found himself in a very deep, peaceful slumber.

It was a slumber so powerful, in fact, that Germany slept through the night and much of the morning beside Italy; he even slept through the harsh jiggling of his doorknob and rattling of his bedroom window, along with many cries of "Gottverdammt West!"

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it and reviews are much appreciated!