No nation could be called a saint, save maybe Liechtenstein. Everyone had their secrets, including Liechtenstein. Most secrets weren't all that well kept (I heard *whisperwhisper* fucked *whisper* with a *whisper*), but some...were quite well hidden...
"Ve~ Germany! What's wrong?" Italy shouted, as Germany suddenly clutched his head.
"I...I gotta feeling..." Germany looked up into the beautiful brown eyes of the smaller Italian. Oh how Germany loved those eyes. They reminded him of chocolate and coffee with milk. Germany could just stare into those eyes forever.
"Ve~ What is it? Is everything alright, va? Should I, ve, call Prussia?" Italy felt tears well up, he hoped no one was hurt.
"Th-that tonight..." Germany looked out into the distance, is blue eyes sparkling with mystery. Italy watched with wide eyes as a tear rolled down his cheek. "Tonight's gonna be a good night!"And with that being said, he stood up, blue eyes shining with determination and his right fist in the open palm of his left. Italy swore he heard the German anthem play in the distance and a breeze rolled in, letting the flag-cape on Germany's back spread out.
"What? Ve, Germany, what do you mean? Ve...!" Italy wiped away his tears and stood up with
Germany. Germany grabbed the little nation's hand and marched to the door.
"I can show you the world," Germany barked out, continuing on to describe the world, "Shining, shimmering, splendid!" He burst out into the night air and inhaled deeply, feeling free and full of life. Italy laughed.
"Ve~ Like, ve, where? Ve...?" Italy was enjoying the sparkle in Germany's eyes. It was a rare treat.
"There's a place downtown, where the freaks all come around. It's a hole in the wall, it's a dirty free-for-all," Germany announced, starting down the street. Italy frowned now. You know it's serious when Italy frowns. He wasn't sure he liked the idea of that. Although...he wouldn't mind seeing Germany in a so called, "dirty free-for-all".
"I dunno, Germany, ve~! Maybe we should just stay at home tonight.." Italy said, paused. Unfortunately, this did not affect Germany, so he was just dragged along.
"When I leave for the night, I ain't comin' back!" Germany shouted, slowing down. He seemed appalled at the thought of going back home. Didn't Italy trust him?
"Ve, Germany, what are you talking about? You had said you wanted a quiet night, ve!" Italy waited with big eyes as Germany finally stopped. Too late, though, because Italy's shoe's soles had been burned through to the sock and Italy wouldn't be able to wear these shoes again. Too bad, they were Gucci.
"Am I more than you bargained for, yeah?" Germany whispered, leaning in.
'I-I...Germany..." Italy moved in, but not before adding in a soft 've'. Their lips were just about to touch when Germany suddenly pulled back.
"Hey! I got a question for you!" Italy scowled. Why did Germany have to be such a tease? Were it not for the holes in his shoe, Italy would have stomped his foot. "Do you wanna have a slumber party in my basement?"
Italy was now very, very concerned. Germany was in the middle of the street, giggling and twirling, making whooshing noises for his flag-cape.
"VE~ GERMANY ARE YOU, VE, ALRIGHT?" Italy shouted, panic clearly in his voice. He ran to Germany, taking his hand in concern.
"Blame it on the ah-ah-ah-ah-ah~" Germany sneezed then. After sniffling, he continued, "alcohol."
Italy sighed, he hated it when Germany drank. When had he been drinking anyways?
"Come on, ve, Germany. Let's go home, ve!" Italy said, half dragging the protesting nation home. Once there, Italy set Germany in a chair in the kitchen. Italy busied himself by setting up a pot to boil and tell a story involving the words 'pasta sauce', 'lube', and 'Spamano'. Germany didn't get the connection, though, because he had gotten up and pinned Italy into the corner of the kitchen.
"G-Germany, v-ve...What are you, ve, doing?" Italy asked, surprised by the erotic glint in Germany's eyes. Germany's hands suddenly were at his hips and were fumbling with the zipper.
"Don't be a little bitch with your chit-chat, just show me where your dick's at!" Germany have commanded, half shouted. Italy gasped. He was never letting Germany drink again.
"Love, you know I fight for you!" Germany pleaded, his blue eyes sparkling with passion and love. "You know I can't go a minute without your love." This being said, he planted a kiss upon Italy's lips.
Italy smiled, but he place a hand on Germany's lips as he went in for another kiss.
"Germany, ve, that's, ve, sweet, ve, but, ve, you're, ve, drunk, ve~! You, ve, need, ve, to, ve, sleep, ve, it, ve, off, ve~!" Italy said softly, 've'ing his way through the sentence.
Italy guided the drunkard to his bed while he rambled about love and drugs.
"Good night, Germany, ve~!" Italy turned away, but he was caught by Germany. Blue eyes shining with tears, he said, "Please don't leave me..." Italy sighed, but he joined Germany in bed anyways. The two were falling asleep when Germany suddenly shouted.
"I LIKE YOUR BEARD!"
"I DON'T HAVE A BEARD, VEEEEEEEE!"
Yes, Germany's secret was that he always spoke in lyrical form. No, not songs he made up, or with a rhyme scheme or a sing-song voice, but songs already made up. It's usually more toned down and less obvious, but when he gets drunk, shit goes down.