A/N: Hello there! I'm so sorry it's been so long! My computer has an amazing virus! Hasn't been letting me upload anything. Bleh!
Well, here's a Hetalia fic for my besty Italy (aka, Heather)~
Disclaimer: me no own-y!
WARNING: CONTAINS BOY X BOY! YAOI! NO LIKE-Y NO READ-Y! smut cums in chapter 2!
"Ladies" at the Beach?
"Oh please Germany?! I've always wanted to go and today is such a pretty day! There will be all the sparkly water and nice sand and I want to see the pretty ladies!"
"The beach? Is that really necessary? Today is supposed to be strictly training. Just because Japan isn't here doesn't mean you can slack off! Italy! What are you doing?!"
They were at Germany's house arguing about where to spend the day. Italy, knowing that if it came down to brute force he'd lose without a fight, decided to take matters into his own hands and came dressed in his casual pink tank top and yellow swim trunks. As he begged Germany he continued to pack a bag for the beach despite the rejection he was getting, putting floaties on his arms.
"We have training to do! If we went to the beach all you'd do is goof off!"
"No, no! I would train! I promise Doitsu!"
Germany sighed as he watched Italy's energy. Well, he might be able to train at the beach. The sand would make running harder and instead of all the pushups they could swim. That might actually work better than the usual training!
"Ok, the beach it is."
"Hurray!"
Italy jumped up and down with that stupid smile on his face as he went around packing his premade pasta. Where he'd gotten it Germany didn't know and didn't care enough to ask.
Quickly he packed his own bag of a towel for both of them because he just knew Italy wouldn't have thought to pack one of his own. Changing into his dark green trunks and black wife beater, he put a change of clothes for them into his pack and pulled the draw-strings closed.
In the front room, Italy had just shut the lid of his last pasta dish, putting it into the basket. Now he carried both the bag and basket full of food. Germany lifted an eyebrow at all his carry-ons.
"What are all those food dishes for?"
"For all the pretty ladies!" Italy called as he dashed out the door to his Fiat parked in front of Germany's house.
Once both their baggage was stored in the trunk, Italy slid behind the wheel and Germany quickly strapped in and held onto the door for dear life as the Italian floored the accelerator.
The entire perilous journey was spent with Germany's eyes glued shut. Eventually the whipping wind and shifting car slowed until it came to a grinding halt.
"Ve! Doitsu, we're here! Why are your eyes closed?"
"Argh." Germany groaned in pain as his stomach struggled to catch up with the rest of his body.
He heard the driver's side door open and felt the car shift as the slight weight of the Italian left. The door slammed and Italy pranced around the side of the car to Germany's side, perfectly fine.
"Doitsu! You look like Japan when I first drove him around!"
"Just get the stuff out of the back." Germany groaned.
"Ok!"
Eyes still squeezed shut, Germany fumbled for the handle. As soon as he found it he jerked it open and placed his feet with reverence on the solid, unmoving ground. Groaning, he stood on weak legs and wondered for a brief moment if he'd even be able to train in such a condition.
Weakness will not be tolerated! He yelled, even a dictator in his mind, and stood tall once again, his perserverance pushing through the nausea. The ocean was to his back when he looked up at the weedy field and beach villas in front of him. Italy had parked in someone's front yard Germany realized with chagrin. Wait…Italy. It was too quiet around him. No obnoxious chattering…
"Italy?" he called behind him before turning.
Silence met his call and there was no ridiculous brown curl and stupid face to answer him.
"Great. Where has that dummkopf gone now?!" he cursed Italy's name as he trudged through the knee high weeds toward the back of the car.
When he reached the open trunk he saw Italy had indeed done what he'd said, just hadn't waited for him. Then the only place to go would be in the direction of the beach.
Germany parted the weeds, carefully watching his steps as he walked over rocks and old shells. So concentrated on the ground, Germany wasn't looking when he smashed into Italy's still form. They both stumbled as Germany swore in german.
"Italy! What is wrong with you?!" he shouted but stilled when he saw Italy's expression.
Horror and a faint look of nausea was plastered across Italy's face as he pointed in front of him in the direction of the ocean. Not understanding, Germany turned quick, stance going to defensive, ready for whatever enemy was frightening Italy. Yet, even he wasn't ready for the sight that met his eyes.
Sag, sag, sag, sag, Sag, SAG! SAAAGGGYYY!
Flesh hung loose from old bones with no piece of cloth in sight. It took Germany a second to get over the sickening shock to actually look at the sign posted in front of him.
" 'Senior Day at the Nude Beach.'" He read out loud and quickly covered Italy's eyes.
"Why are we at the nude beach in the first place?" he grumbled and tugged Italy back towards the car.
"Wait! It says only for today! Which means that tomorrow will be better!" he cried resisting Germany's pull.
"It's the training for today that needs to get done!"
"But why can't it be tomorrow just this once! Isn't swimming really good for the body anyways?"
Italy did have a point and Germany had to admit it.
"But where will we even stay if we did?" he grumbled and quit pulling on the Italian.
"There!" Italy said pointing back in the direction they came.
Beyond the Fiat was a small beach villa with the sign 'Daily Rental! Cheap!' written in obnoxious orange lettering on the front porch. Beside the sign was a small man in a rocking chair, teetering back and forth with a smoking pipe in the corner of his mouth.
Germany sighed at the complete convenience of it all and began walking towards the house. Italy yelled his hurray of victory and ran in front of him. By the time Germany got to the porch Italy was already chatting the man up.
"So how much for the night? If it's expensive we're going home Italy." He warned.
"Ve! It's only a hundred!"
"Hundred! Really now… well, that's not too bad." Germany conceded.
"Yay!"
As Germany paid for the night's lodging, Italy pranced inside to scope out their surroundings. It was a small, one story with the door connecting to the dining room and living room. On the left, the kitchen connected to the dining room and forward was door which was a single bedroom. No doubt the bathroom was in there.
By the time that Germany walked through the front door, having bode the old man farewell, Italy was already in the kitchen putting the pasta on all the shelves in the cold box. With the looks of the cold box it seemed as though they were staying for a week, not a day.
"Ve~ Doitsu! What do we do now?"
"Well, since we can't go to the beach, go get changed in the bathroom or something." Germany instructed dismissively.
"Right." A pause. "Clothes…"
Germany sighed, "In my pack Italy."
"Hurray! Doitsu you're so smart!" Italy yelled and threw his arms around Germany.
Before the inevitable blush could reach his cheeks, Italy was gone, disappeared into the room with Germany's pack.
"Smart…" the blushing German repeated and walked to the kitchen to pull out one of Italy's pasta dishes.
"Pesto pasta. What a weird name."
Holding it close to inspect it, he made his way to the bedroom to ask Italy about the odd green dish.
"Hey Italy," Germany called as he opened the door, "What is a pesto pasta? And why is it green?"
"Oh! Pesto is so good!"
At the sound of Italy's lose voice Germany jerked his head up from looking at the interesting food. The ditzy Italian had his shirt off already and his shorts slightly pulled down as he struggled with the white drawstring.
"The bathroom you dummkopf! I said change in the bathroom!" Germany blushed out as he began backing out of the room.
"Wait! You've got to help me Germany! The string is too tight and it's starting to hurt my privates! I don't want them to hurt because if they start to hurt then it'll hurt when I…"
"Ok! I don't need to hear this Italy! I'll help you, just be quiet!" Germany interrupted his panic tangent and set the pasta down on the side table.
Even though he comes around with no clothes on anyway, it's still hard to deal with! Germany muttered inside and pulled Italy around to the bed.
"Sit." He ordered and the brunette immediately did as he was told.
Quickly to get it over with, he knelt in front of Italy's knees and put his hands to the tight knot at the front of his shorts.
"What did you do to this thing?!" he cursed at the infuriatingly tight knot.
"I tied it!" Italy said breathily.
Germany didn't look up to see why Italy seemed to be out of breath.
"Verdammt!" he cursed again as the knot seemed to get tighter without his doing anything.
He tugged it none too nicely, eliciting a breathy moan from between Italy's open lips. Now Germany looked up, noticing the flush across Italy's toned skin.
"Italy, the knot's not coming undone." Germany stated the obvious as he felt a flash of heat burn through him at Italy's oddly erotic, flushed face.
"Ve~ But I still can't get them off."
Now Germany suppressed an unexpected need to groan. Why did this male send such heat through his veins?
"Gah! Italy." Germany gave a disgruntled sigh, debating as to what his helping Italy entitled.
"Please Doitsu? I don't want it to hurt anymore." Italy pleaded.
Germany once again gave a sigh of a curse, finally making up his mind. He pushed Italy back, flat onto the bed, his hand skimming across Italy's heated skin.
"Lift your hips."
Immediately, Italy pushed his hips off the bed and shivered when he felt Germany's fingers slid beneath the tight waistband of his swim trunks. Slowly he felt Germany tug, and inch by inch he felt the shorts sliding down his thighs. Once the back was completely over the swell of his ass, Germany's fingers slid to the front where the shorts were painfully tight, digging into his flesh.
"Are you wearing any hoschen?"
"I never wear pantaloni with swim trunks. Do you?" Italy panted out.
Germany smirked, "Nein."
"Hurry Doitsu! It's really starting to hurt!"
"Alright. Bend your knees and I'll pull them up and off."
Italy pulled his legs up towards his torso as his back settled onto the bed once more. Germany tried to keep his gaze averted but being in the position he was in, he got a revealing look at Italy's smooth ass.
"Verdammt!" Germany swore once more, the word becoming a favorite of the day.
With a couple of short tugs, the shorts come free and slid off the toes of Italy's feet. Germany debated as to whether or not to work on the knot again but both the thought and the shorts were flung across the room as Italy sat up on his knees and leaned towards Germany's own shorts.
A/N: Alright! I know I ended it at the best part but that just means that u get to look forward to the rest! Muwahaha! Evil plan is set into motion! YAOI WILL TAKE OVER THE WORLD!
Psh… I wish. Well, the best part is yet to cum!