Stranger to the Feeling

A/N: My friend and I came up with this idea during class, and further developed it during lunch. Hehe, Enjoy!

Thanks to Cat for her contributions! Seriously, the story would have been painfully lame without her help.

~Chapitre I~

The cold, French wind bit his skin like the sight of him was unbearable, the sky was darkening at five o'clock and the street was sparkling with a thin layer of ice and snow. Winters in Paris were not familiar to Germany, but they weren't much different from those in his home. Well, the weather wasn't different, but the people—that was another story.

If France was going to be late to an event of his own scheduling, he should have told Germany ahead of time. Still, in all seriousness, it probably wouldn't have changed anything. He knew somewhere in the back of his mind that he'd have come at this same time.

He didn't really want to have coffee with France. Yet, a promise was a promise, and he was a man of his word. The only reason he had promised was to better things between them. If they were going to be allied, they had to at least call each other acquaintances.

The sun was hanging from its last limb until it gave into the night, letting go of the horizon line and taking its bright, blue sky with it. Germany liked night time, though. Even if it was five...thirty.

Finally, a faint call of, "Bonjour, Allemange!" echoed up the paved street, France appeared after a group of young adults disbanded, he waved largely to show he was there and to let Germany know he had not forgotten.

"Désolé, mon ami," The French one of the two apologized, getting closer to Germany until they were about two feet away, "So sorry, Allemange," an apologetic smile curved his lips, the same emotion twinkled in his eyes, "I got tied up in an affair."

Germany was going to ask what happened out of natural human reaction, but he remembered that this was France and he could say anything, and there was also an 89% chance that it was not something Germany wanted to hear.

"Anyway," France began again after noticing that Germany was admiring the building, "We came here for coffee, no?"

Germany nodded. This building sure was...strange.

As they were settling at a table and France told him what things on the menu meant, Germany made his opinion known. "This place is strangely upscale for a café, Frankreich" deep blue eyes of the addressed adverted from the menu to meet the lighter ones of the German of the two.

France chuckled. "Well, it's an old home," France briefly explained, "It used to belong to a noble, but he died and they opened it as a café."

"Why would the open the home of a dead person for people to come and have coffee?" Germany would never understand the French. That almost seemed like a...violation.

But France seemed to be perfectly fine with it as their waiter arrived.

Time evaporated, and the more time that passed, the more time Germany felt he was wasting. He's not even getting to know the other, their both silent and sipping slowly.

"I feel like we've lost out purpose," Germany made his thoughts words.

France dragging his straw through the crème, making small, effortless patterns. He looked up to meet Germany's eyes, and smiling, he asked, "Well, why don't you start?"

Germany flushed out of embarrassment. He was not the conversation-starter. "No...I think you should."

France chuckled, an Germany flushed further, looking away. His simple black coffee and unwillingness to speak showed France that maybe he should have taken the initiative in the first place. "Well, okay. Where is your favorite place at home, hm?"

Germany still didn't meet his eyes as he answered, "I...I like Rhine River," he stared into his coffee as if it could stare back, "The water reminds me that some days are just meant to be calm, and the strong structure reminds me that others are for hard work."

France didn't know Germany could be so poetic. Sure, it was not the work of the greatest, but it was enough to make France nod in appreciation. "I like the Rhine River, too. It runs through here as well..." He smiled, "maybe we've looked at the same current go by."

Germany looked at him, now, eyes full of wonder and did he really just say that? "So...apparently sine this was once a home, have you seen any of the other rooms?"

"Oui," France answered, grinning, "My most favorite is...le chambre." He purred that last word as half-lidded eyes glanced at Germany, as if he was checking him for something.

"And what is that?"

"The bedroom."

Of course. Germany looked away again, embarrassed and uncomfortable.

Still, France went on, "When you enter such an elegant room, the wine-colored atmosphere and smell of sweet roses...it embraces you," He sighed, "It inflicts such feelings of...lust."

Germany cocked a brow.

France's eyes widened. "Allemange..." He sat up, "You look as though you have no understanding of what I mean!"

"I have never felt lust."

France gasped, it felt like just then the wind blew and took his soul with it. "C'est faux!"

Germany scoffed.

"You can't be telling the truth! Monsieur, you are twenty years old and never once have you desired someone?"

"...No..." Germany started to feel uncomfortable, "Why is that strange?"

"I just...this is...you have to feel it! It's the second most wonderful feeling in the world, the raw desire, the physical craving, the heat that rises...you've never...?"

"I have been with people before," Germany said, "I have had sex. But I have never felt like I...needed to."

France sat there, mouth agape and eyes wide. "You must, Allemange," He stated finally.

"I doubt so..." Germany coughed.

They were silent for a few moments, and France thought hard.

"Allemange has never wanted another person...that is so astonishing! Even after years of knowing me, he's never..." France grinned, "I know! Oui, that is the solution! Allemange will be in Paris for a week, that is plenty of time!" France smiled to Germany.

"I enjoyed the coffee." He 'accidentally' tipped over his empty cup. "How unfortunate..." He kicked it a little so it would end up near Germany, "Don't trouble yourself, Allemange, I will get it." He bent over Germany's lap to retrieve the glass, invading the latter's personal space.

Germany was very, very uncomfortable now. He shivered a little, but he didn't know quite why... "Maybe you should have let me get it, I wouldn't have minded it,"

"Oh Non," France sat up, brushing his hair away from his lidded eyes as he was literally a few inches away from Germany's face, "That would have been inconsiderate."

Germany leaned backward a bit, and turned his head away as France went back to his chair.

This was going to be so much fun!