"Hey, Germany!" Italy cheerfully called out upon entering, without even knocking on the door to, his friend's home.

"Uggh." Italy heard Germany groaned and followed the noise. Germany's face was planted on the kitchen table, his arms hanging limply at his sides, and a few empty bottles of beer were aligned nearby. Italy pulled up a chair and petted his friend's head. He knew this look before. Many a times he found his brother Romano in the same position.

"You got dumped." Italy's straightforward comment earned him another growl from Germany. "That's a pity. I mean she was cute and fun and I really liked her and…Germany…you're looking at me all scary now…"

Germany finally stopped glaring at Italy and lifted his head up to rubbed at the red marks left by the table.

"Hey cheer up, Germany." Italy patted Germany's shoulder. "She was just your first girlfriend, right? Everyone gets dumped and, hmm…" Italy brought his hand to his chin and rubbed it. "Though now that I think of it, I don't think I've ever got dumped." Germany groaned once more. "Oh, but my brothers get dumped lots, so I…"

"Shut up, Italy."

"Shutting up, captain!" Italy smiled brightly at Germany. The silence didn't last long as Italy started making weird noises. Germany moved his hand to look at the chipper Italian. Nope, Italy wasn't going away anytime soon. With a sigh, Germany slowly moved to sit upright in the chair and Italy couldn't help but remark on his appearance. "Wow, Germany, you really looks terrible." Germany frowned.

"I feel terrible." Germany spotted a half empty bottle near him and took another drink.

"Hey, don't worry, Germany, you'll find another girl soon."

If Italy was paying attention, he would have seen Germany's bottom lip quivering over the top of his beer. "That's easy for you to say…"

"Yeah it is!" Italy laughed. "Germany all stiff and awkward when he's talking togwwwkk! Ger! Chhzzzchoke! Acccchoking me!"

Germany immediately released his grip around Italy's neck and swiftly looked away with his arms crossed. While Italy caught his breath, Germany grumbled under his. Still, afterwards, Italy continued to ignore the warning signs (the ones that figuratively said: "Do not provoke the frustrated and slightly drunk German.") and chatted happily while fixing them both fresh cups of coffee. Germany only registered half the things Italy said; his mind was busy analyzing things. Mostly Italy's dating habits. Did Italy date? Germany had seen Italy flirt shamelessly with girls but had he ever seen Italy out on a date?

"Unlike you," Germany blurted out, "I want more than just a fling."

"Hmm?" Italy tilted his head. "But they're all flings, Germany," he said plainly.

"W-what?" Germany expected such disrespectful comments from France. Not Italy.

"Think about it." Great, now Italy of all people was telling him to think. "Let's say you meet someone in their twenties. The average citizen lives to about eighty years old, so that's only sixty years together." Italy shook his head. "That's not a very long time to us countries," he said with a bitter smile. "So, even if you lived with them their whole lives, even when they're old enough to be a grandma, it'll still be just fling…" his voice trailed off.

Germany regarded his friend and his friend's insight.

"Oh!" Italy perked back up again. "But then again you could be lucky like Austria and Hungary and fall in love with another country."

"That would be lucky." Germany frowned and looked away. "If only the sexes were even for our kind."

"Yeah." Italy lazily daydreamed. "There needs to be more cute girl countries."

"Again it's easy for you. After all you like both girls and guys."

"Huh? No, no, no." Italy waved his hand dismissively. "You're thinking of my brother France. He likes girls and boys."

Germany rolled his eyes at the mention of France's name. "France likes anything that moves."

Italy laughed. "Yeah, that's true." and he continued to laugh. Germany couldn't' help but smile.

"It's just that," Germany said after the laughter has subsided, "you said your first love," he started to rub the back of his neck, "was a boy." He looked at Italy.

He saw Italy's happy expression falter. "Oh, well," Italy offered a weak smile, "he's the exception."

Germany glanced away and back. "How come?" he asked a little eagerly.

Italy looked down to the warm cup he held with both of his hands, and, through his sad face, he smiled. "Because he has my heart."

Germany blushed fiercely and looked away quickly. "Y-you're still in love with him after all this time?"

"Yeah."

Germany clasped his hand over his heart as his blush spread. He took a few deep breaths and looked back over to Italy. The Italian still stared at the black liquid, completely unaware of Germany's inner struggle. Germany closed his eyes and the curled his hand into a fist. "He doesn't deserve your heart."

"You're right." Germany looked back, shocked and somewhat hurt at Italy's agreement. "He still has it though."

With a melancholy expression, Germany looked away again. "Why?" he asked in a low. "Why do you love him that much?"

"I don't know." Italy said simply.

He got another confused look from Germany. "W-what?"

Italy shrugged. "I dunno. I just do."

"T-that doesn't make any sense!" Germany slammed his fist down making the table shake and the beer bottles rattle. "There has to be a reason!"

"Wah! Germany is scary!"

Feeling embarrassed again, Germany turned away and didn't say a word.

Italy whined. "But Holy Roman Empire was scary too." Again Germany said nothing. "But, but he took really good care of me." Italy smiled. "And we spent lots of time together, and, and when he left he said he'd love me more than anyone in the world."

Germany gave a bitter laugh. "That statement means nothing when the world is full of assholes."

Italy blinked at his friend. "That's mean, Germany…" Germany frowned. "Besides, he really did love me."

"Loved you so much he didn't even bother to visit or contact you?"

Italy gasped at his friend's bitter tone and cruel words.

Germany shook his head, grabbed his beer and chugged it down. He set the bottle down and sighed. "Trust me, you're better off without him."

"Don't say that. You didn't know him…"

Again Germany laughed bitterly. "Knew him?" He laughed once more, sadly this time. "Yeah I knew him. Holy Roman Empire." Italy's head perked up. "He was the lowest son of a bitch I ever knew."

Italy felt a chill down his spine. The hair prickled on the back of his neck, and he felt himself shivering. The cold feeling was soon replaced by a raging heat as Germany continued.

"Did you know he believed you were a girl?" Germany didn't even give Italy a chance to respond. "He thought you were a girl, and you know what that bastard did when he found out you were a boy? He ran off scared, like the coward he was, and wrote you out of his life. Didn't even consider your feelings. That scum."

"Don't call him that." Italy said quietly.

"Tsk. Didn't you hear what I said? What that creep did to you?"

Italy gripped the edge of table so hard his knuckles turned white. He heard and all he could think about was Holy Roman Empire's bright blue eyes and happy smile. "I said stop calling him names."

"I'll call him whatever I damn well want to. He had your love. He had it and what did he do with it? That miserable little shit threw your love away like garbage!"

Pain. All he felt was pain. Pain from the impact of the fall and pain from the impact of Italy's fist. Germany laid there on the floor, disoriented and astonished.

Seeing his friend wide eyed and in pain brought Italy back to his senses. "Waah! Germany! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Italy cried. "I don't know what came over me, but I'm so sorry! Please forgive me, Germany! I'm so sorry!" Italy kneeled down to touch his friend. "Please speak to me, Germany," he begged as he stroked Germany's uninjured cheek.

Germany swatted Italy's hand away and pulled himself up from the floor. He continued to ignore Italy's tears as his own tears welled up in his eyes. He swaggered out of the kitchen into the hallway. Once there, he only took a few steps before he had to lean against the wall for support. He took deep breaths as he tried to keep himself together. He almost lost it when Italy's arms wrapped around him from behind.

"I hated him," Germany said when Italy's cries lessened. "I hate how he had big dreams, ambitions and how he wasted them all away. And then, when he was at his lowest, the day his empire was abolished…" Germany gritted his teeth and held back the tears. "All I wanted was to see your smile and hold you in my arms and what do I do instead? I ran away just because you were a guy." Germany felt Italy tense up. He cursed. There was no going back now. "I just felt so betrayed by my emperor and by life, the last person I expected to betray me was you." Italy hold loosened. "But you did nothing wrong. I was just a damn fool and by the time I finally came to my senses, well, too many years had gone by. Too many years people believed me to be dead and honestly…I didn't want to be that person anymore."

Germany could feel Italy slump against him. "I thought I would blow my charade when I saw you again, heh, but I was able to keep it up. It helped that you're so infuriating." Germany stopped that train of thought as he felt Italy's tears soaking through his shirt. "But you made so happy when you said you wanted to be friends. I felt so happy because it was a new beginning for us. It was a new beginning and I like being your friend despite my complaints. I-I even thought at one time we could have a relationship again, but that was just a misunderstanding. So," Germany took hold of Italy's hands and moved them off him. Without the support, Italy slowly sank to his knees. "I'm sorry," Germany said. "I'm sorry for everything." and walked off.

He shut the door to his room. He felt sad, angry, confused, but also, strangely, relieved. Two centuries of deception and finally he was able to come clean. All he had to do was break his best friend's heart.

"I am scum." With a sign he sat on his bed and started to take off his shoes. He almost didn't hear his bedroom door click back shut. He didn't need to look up to know who it was. "Italy, please, I…" He didn't finish as Italy tackled him in a hug, knocking him back on the bed. "Italy!"

"You're alive," he muttered softly over Germany's heart. "You're alive. You're alive. You're alive," he repeated happily.

And Germany finally broke down in tears.

A short time passed and Italy nuzzled against Germany's arms, drawing little circles with his finger on Germany's chest.

Germany, all cried out and grateful for how forgiving Italy was, simply laid back and enjoyed Italy's little gestures. He sighed after a few minutes. "What do we do now?"

"Mmm," Italy happily mewed and propped himself up to look at Germany. "I did promise to make you sweets when you came back."

"Please don't." The twinge of guilt returning.

"You're mean…" Italy pouted.

Germany groaned. He didn't want to cause Italy anymore pain. "Alright, I'll take the sweets."

"Yay!" Italy cheered and wrapped his arms around Germany's neck. "Hey Germany."

"Yes?"

"Are kisses sweet enough?" he asked before pressing his lips against his beloved's.

The sweetest.