(Disclaimer: APH is not mine.)
"Germany! Germany~!" Italy whined, desperately going from room to room throughout the house, looking for his blond friend. He had looked in nearly every room, but the other Nation was nowhere to be seen, though he did find Prussia passed out on the couch in the living room. Frowning, Italy returned to where he saw the red-eyed Nation, poking him awake. "Prussia? Do you know where Germany is?"
The Prussian cracked an eye open, but the sudden light caused him to close it again and groan. " 's office," He muttered before rolling so he was facing away from Italy, silently vowing to never have a drinking contest with Denmark again. Italy gave a squeal of delight and ran off, leaving Prussia moaning on the couch.
"Germany!" Italy yelled, barging into the man's back office. How Italy had missed it, he didn't know, but now here he was and there was Germany. "Germany! Guess what Hungary taught me!"
Germany closed his eyes, giving a mental count to ten, before looking at Italy and giving him an exasperated look. "What did she teach you, Italy?"
"Palm reading! Can I show you?"
"No." The Italian's smile fell, and Germany, feeling guilty, sighed. "On second thought, I guess you ca—"
"Ve~ Thanks Germany!" Italy grabbed Germany's hand, frowning when he realized it was gloved. He began to pull it off, but Germany pulled his hand back suddenly, surprising the brunet. "Germany, I need to see your palm in order to read it."
"But—" The blond's protest was cut off when Italy grabbed his hand again, examining the glove.
"Germany," Italy started, his voice oddly serious. "Why do you always wear gloves?" Before the German Nation could respond, Italy had pulled off the glove and was examining the man's hand. It was soft, softer than he expected. The nails were clean and short, perfectly taken care of. Italy put his hand against Germany's, comparing the size. Germany's hand was bigger than the Italian's, as he expected. "Germany?" Italy looked up at Germany, his hand still held up to the other's.
"That—that is of no concern to you," Germany muttered, turning his flushing face away from Italy.
"But Germany~," Italy whined, pulling the hand closer to further examine it. "Your hand is so soft and perfect. Why hide it?"
Germany grumbled something, refusing to look at Italy. "What did you say Germany?"
Sighing, Germany repeated himself. "I said, Prussia…says they're too girly."
The room was silent for a brief moment before Italy grinned and moved Germany's hand so he could kiss it. "Well, I like your hands Germany. I think you shouldn't wear gloves more often. Who cares what Prussia thinks?"
Germany attempted to pull his hand out of the Italian's grasp, having been surprised at the sudden kiss. Italy wasn't letting go, however, and so Germany gave up. Some battles just weren't worth fighting.
And later, when Prussia stumbled in to ask where the aspirin was located and instead laughed at Germany holding hands with Italy, the embarrassed Nation got his revenge by "forgetting" where the aspirin was, leaving Prussia to find it on his own while Italy chatted away a mile a minute.