PLAYING FAVOURITES
"It'll always be me."
"Will not."
"Will too, Italia."
"Austria likes me way better! I gave him a moustache! Everybody likes moustaches!"
"Well I was here first, so Austria has liked me longer, which means he likes me more. And all of your paintings are stupid anyways. You can't do anything! All you do is eat Mister Austria's food and make him mad, he doesn't like you at all!" Tears welled in Chibitalia's eyes. She fled the room, leaving Holy Rome inside of the kitchen feeling a tad guilty. He didn't even care if Mister Austria liked him more. Not really.
After a minute of hesitation he decided to follow Italia and apologize, but the instant his hand touched the door, Hungary swept it open with a fury in her eyes he hadn't seen since Austria burned all of her photos of he and Prussia (he had wondered what was so bad about them, at the time). She grabbed him by the back of the neck, bunching his clothing into a tight handful and launching him into a chair in the corner of the room that was usually reserved for Chibitalia when she made Austria angry. Holy Rome had often seen her fall asleep in this chair, but in it himself, it was the most uncomfortable experience in his life. He wondered how she managed it.
It didn't help that Hungary was staring him down like she wanted to give him a whack with her frying pan. He had a distinct urge to shield his head. Hungary, still looking dead at him (or like she wanted him dead) called out, "Come in, now."
Austria entered the room, Chibitalia cradled in his arms with tear tracks on her face. When she caught sight of him, however, she winked wickedly at him, clutching tighter to Austria. And there was something- something different- and he couldn't place it, but... Chibitalia had the strangest coloured eyes he had ever seen, and how had he not noticed before...? They were somewhere between red and purple, a colour he could not name...
"-has he done?" Holy Rome snapped out of his trance and focused in front of him on the conversation taking place between Austria and Hungary.
Hungary scowled at Austria. "That little- he made poor baby Itália cry! He should apologize right now! She couldn't of possibly done anything to him!" She whipped around to glare at him. "I always knew you were a ba-,"
"Hush, Hungary. Holy Rome, apologize to Italy, at once, for whatever it is that you've done." Holy Rome turned to look at Italy, and she was looking at him with the same ferocity as Hungary. He never could have imagined that look on her. Austria and Hungary were eying at him expectantly as his eyes swept over their faces. Their gazes help strong. Defeated, he turned to Italia.
"I'm sorry I made you upset Itali-," his sentence was abruptly halted when Chibitalia launched herself at him, squeezing him incredibly hard around his ribs. For a moment, he could not breathe. She pulled back, her-
Her brown eyes brightening.
XOXO
Germany put his car into park and strode to the front doors of Italien's house. Knocking swifty, he dropped his hand to his side and waited. He expected Italy to take a while.
It was quite the surprise when the door flew open and Italy's armes coiled around him. Germany moved his arms to hold him more securely. By now he knew that if he did not, Italy would fall, and then he'd cry, and Germany would have to-
Italy placed two delicate kisses on his cheeks, and Germany reminded himself once more not to let him fall, thoughts somehow being obscured from his current task at hand.
It may have had something to do with the amount of blood currently in his face, however.
The amount of which has not decreased when Italy hid his face in Germany's neck, pushing his body closer and giggling against him.
This was not happening. Germany had promised himself that this time they would make it to Austria's for dinner, as opposed to the alternative-
Which was looking more and more attractive as Italy breathed into his neck and trailed his lips up and down.
He was left with no choice now.
Germany sprinted to the car, ripped open the back door and hoisted Italy inside. He quickly got into the driver's seat.
It was the farthest he'd made it yet.
With a congratulatory imaginary pat on the back, he took off for Austria's as fast as the German highways would allow him (he did 220 the entire way there, as a matter of fact).
XOXO
When he finally arrived, he could hardly believe it, because the fact that Germany has driving hadn't deterred Italy at all from keeping his hands off of him. If Germany were a weaker man, he would have pulled the car over and had his damned wicked way.
The German Autobahn must have granted him this strength, and now that they had made it, Germany was not turning back. He was so close-
And Italy was crawling on his back, now, arms locked around Germany's chest and legs around his waist.
Getting to the door was of vital importance.
XOXO
Austria went to answer the knock at his front door, surprised that the pair had actually made it to his house. Germany's self restraint had to be improving, it seemed. The image awaiting him assured this when it revealed a panting Ludwig, red in the face, with Italy wrapped around his back and kissing his neck in a way that Austria thought should be made illegal in public.
At the sound of the door however, Italy lept off off his back, coming towards Austria in a swirl of motion, enveloping him in his arms and kissing his cheeks. "Hello, Austria!" he chimed, grabbing Germany's hand and pulling him towards him. They now stood side by side in front of him, expectant.
After a moment, Austria remember courtesy and stutteringly invited the two in, the shock of the two and the suddenness of Italy's greeting leaving him a tad immobilized for a moment. Italy swept into the house, dragging Germany behind him before turning to Austria and asking where he'd have them stay for the time being.
"Oh,- I- You know the house Italy. Show yourself and Germany to the parlour and you can be seated there comfortably while I check with the cooks." He turned and went to the kitchens, walking quickly.
XOXO
Germany was terrified. Of Italy. Because now they would be alone for an undetermined amount of time, and Germany had told Italy he was only uncomfortable with displays of affection in front of others.
And they would be alone. And Italy would take that as a green light. Though to Italians, most red lights are an alright go-ahead also.
Taking his hand, Italy led them to a room a little ways into the house, clearly meant for the sole purpose of seating guests. Italy hadn't talked very much about his time here, but from what he gathered, he was uncomfortable talking about the time he had spent here. He had also had his first relationship during the time he was here.
Germany was an infinitely jealous person, and sharing was not in any of his books on relationships, anyways. Italy cast a forlorn glance around the room, and Germany pulled him down onto a couch next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, overcome by the emotion.
Italy stared brightly up at him, clearly pleased that Germany was initiating such contact. He closed his eyes and leaned over Germany and into the side of his neck. Germany's grip tightened.
XOXO
When Austria entered the room, Germany was sitting with his lap full of Austria's former charge. From the look of things, Germany was not discouraging this behavior.
Austria knew about love and the things that sort of came along with it, but what he didn't know was why it had to happen on his couch. He coughed.
The pair continued to eat one another's faces.
Louder, then.
Germany's hands should really move- well- about a foot up Italy's back, because their position now was not at all acceptable. And at least a foot was required to make it passably- somewhat- acceptable.
Austria was a gentleman. He would try one more time.
The pair suddenly found it imperative that they be in a horizontal position on Austria's couch.
He squealed.
It was a perfectly manly squeal, thank-you-very-much.
Germany launched Italy off of himself, and Italy lazily settled into the cushions of the couch, a content smile on his face. German's posture was more impeccable than Austria had ever seen it before. He tried to save the situation.
"Dinner is ready, if you're up for it."
Had Germany been blushing before? Why yes, he had been an atrocious shade of red. The name of the color he was currently blushing was definitely deserving of a new name, then, it seemed.
XOXO
Germany had never closely examined the way that Austria interacted with Italy. But Germany had not yet seen their relationship while he was in a relationship with Italy. They had always found... distractions, to keep them from coming here.
Germany didn't know if it was because he was in a relationship that Italy's affections seemed over-the-top, but every time he placed a hand on Austria it seemed too intimate, too familiar.
His thoughts from earlier came to him in a rush, and he went still with the idea that fucking Austria had been Italy's first love.
He watched through haze as Italy smiled and laughed with Austria, smoothing a hand down his arm.
He attempted to calm himself. Since the start of their relationship, the only people that Germany had seen interacting with Italy were Spain and Romano. The two were together, and posed no danger to their relationship. Germany and Italy had had little to do with others as they were nearly constantly in bed together. Years of sexual tension had probably brought on the need.
Austria, however, posed a threat, especially if he may have been Italy's first love. When that detail was entertained, it was a game changer.
He needed to speak with Italy.
XOXO
"Dessert will be coming shortly," Austria said graciously, glad to be leaving the room after being subject to Germany's intense stare for the entirety of their dinner.
Germany sprung as soon as he had the chance. Staring at the table, he said, "Italien, I need to talk to you about Austria, and-," he chanced looking up, and Italy's face was ghastly pale, turning green. He stood quickly, knocking his chair back and dashing to Italy's side. "Italy, are you-?" His head drooped, and he slumped in his chair, falling sideways.
"AUSTRIA!" Germany bellowed, certain that Switzerland was gazing around for the source of the noise even at his house.
He swept Italy into his grip bridal-style, racing in the direction that Austria had vanished moments before. Austria whipped his head around the corner, a scowl and an aggravated, "What?" on his lips before his gaze travelled to where Italy was being held against Germany. The scowl and question both died on those lips.
"Bathroom," Germany demanded. Austria, slack-jawed and gazing at Italy in a way that Germany wanted to punch him in the mouth for, pointed up a set of stairs.
Internally, Germany moaned to himself about the stairs, but was already taking to them two at a time. He spotted the bathroom upon reaching the top, grabbing a hand towel and running it under some water while precariously cradling Italy with one arm. He sank to the floor and pulled Italy into his lap, wiping at his face with the towel.
XOXO
Italy didn't believe he had ever been more pissed in his life.
XOXO
Italy's eyes opened, and Germany very nearly had a stroke when he gazed into them, seeing Italy's irises had turned into a reddish-purple colour, the likes of which he had never seen before. "Italy, are-?" His throat was surrounded suddenly by two hands, choking him, pushing him to the bathroom floor. He looked up to see that Italy was the one in possession of these hands, straddling him and holding him down.
If he wasn't already floored, that would have done it.
Suddenly, Italy leant down and whispered viciously into his ear, "You fucking bastardo, you whore, you asshole! You're fucking cheating on me! You piece of shit! I can't believe you're fucking cheating on me! I can't believe-!" he screamed into Germany's face, "that I didn't fucking notice that before now!" Germany's eyes were wide with disbelief, because Italy couldn't possibly believe that, couldn't possibly be doing this to him now!
Germany finally started out of his shock, bringing his hands up and twisting Italy around, face-down underneath him. He wrestled his hands behind his back and leant his weight down on him. Italy thrashed wildly underneath him, and Germany hadn't a clue what the fuck was going on, and Austria was in the door looking like he wanted to report Ludwig for domestic violence.
Germany wondered if Austria would ever believe that he was doing this in self-defense.
No.
Definitely not.
Italy bucked hard and nearly threw Germany off, and Germany was more than a little amazed, because much larger men than Italy had made far weaker attempts.
Italy was yelling again the second he caught sight of Austria in the door. "I SAW THE DAMNED LOVE NOTES BETWEEN YOU TWO! I FOUND THEM IN YOUR FUCKING HOUSE GERMANY! I KNOW ALL ABOUT YOU MEETING AND YOU SNEAKING AROUND BEHIND MY BACK, YOU CUNT!"
Austria was blushing a deep red and Italy continued raving, "I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT YOU'RE PLANNING TO DO TONIGHT, TOO! GERMANY'S GOING TO DUMP ME AND LEAVE ME FOR YOU, YOU HOMEWRECKING WHORE!"
"It's not what you think-," Austria began quietly, but Italy interrupted, thundering in ways that were so out of place with his sweet voice.
"THEN WHAT IS IT? I'VE BEEN HIDING THE FACT THAT I KNOW FOR DAYS NOW, EVER SINCE YOU INVITED US TO DINNER! AND I KNEW THE SECOND I GOT HERE YOU TWO WERE GOING TO TELL ME! BASTARDS!" He jerked again and managed to scramble free while Germany was still processing what he had just heard. He ripped open the cabinet at lighting speed and rushed towards Austria with a razor gripped in his hand.
Germany lunged and caught him around the legs, bringing him down directly in front of Austria who grabbed Italy's wrists and pinned them. "THOSE WERE PRUSSIA'S LETTERS! I WROTE THOSE TO PRUSSIA!" The words burst forth from his lips uncontained, and Italy looked shocked. Tears welled in his eyes, he dropped the razor and pushed his face into the tiles, tears spilling over.
Germany released his hold on Italy and motioned for Austria to do the same.
He did. Warily.
Germany moved Italy into his arms, and Italy had become extremely pliant, allowing Germany to manipulate him in his hold.
Beautiful brown eyes gazed up at him, and Germany experienced a sudden case of diarrhea of the mouth, blurting, " andthathewasthatboyyouloved areallylongtimeago. But Ich liebe dich!"
Germany had the distinct feeling he was going to die now.
Painfully.
Italy leaned up and kissed him sweetly, whispering, "E ti amo," before turning to Austria with an air of extreme seriousness.
"So," he said matter of factly, "does this mean that Prussia is leaving Sealand?"