Hopping to the bathroom, Italy stripped and turned on the bath water. He slid over to the door and stood behind it. He then screamed like some one was trying to kill him.

Of course, the German in the other room was terrified by this and sprinted into the bathroom, yelling, "Italia! Are you alright?"

Instead, the door Germany just passed through closed behind him and locked, the gears clicking into place. Germany of course assumed this was an attacker, and flipped around, pinning the naked Italian to the door.

Italy whined in response. In turn, Germany released his wrists. Italy fake cried his way to the tub of warm water. He sank down in the bubbles so that only his nose up was above water. He continued his fake crying, which clearly upset Germany.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, I just assumed-"

Italy blew bubbles in response, and sniffed, wiping a fake tear out of his eye.

Still concerned, Germany rushed to the side of the tub, "Vhat's hurting you? Why did you scream?"

Italy faced away from his husband. He knew how to get under Germany's skin all too well.

"Vhat do you vant me to do? I'll-um, I'll make you somezhing or, um, er… make you some sveets? Maybe, um, I-I could give you a bath, vould zhat make you feel better?"

Italy stole a glance at Germany over his shoulder, raising his head up just enough to reply, "It'd be nice…and will you say nice things to me?"

"Zhat's absolutely out of ze quest-" The look on his 'wife's' face made him change his mind. "If zhat's vhat you vant…mein liebe…"

Rolling up his sleeves, the German wet his hands. Those powerful but shaky hands loomed over the Italian's head, his fingertips barely sliding across the soft reddish brown hair. Italy waited in anticipation; shivering in the tub.

Those magical fingers proved how magical they were when they touched his scalp. The rough, wet fingers sifting through his hair, barely missing his curl each time, as if on purpose, and those angelic fingertips barely scratching his scalp; a tingling feeling shot up his spine.

In all this pleasure, Italy was only able to squeak out, "Lud…"

In response, Germany leaned down, whispering in Italy's ear, "I'm sorry, mein liebe."

If Italy wouldn't have held on to himself, he swore he would have just had an orgasm.

And just when he thought it couldn't get any 'worse'…

The curl.

Germany twirled his fingers around it, and continued to lather his head with soap using his free hand. Italy squealed, and Germany let go of him, afraid he had hurt him again.

"Italy-"

"Say… something sweet…" Italy was barely able to breath, and his voice almost didn't come out.

Italy's voice stirred something in the pit of his stomach. Germany wasn't quite sure what it was, but he knew only Italy could do it, so it had to be a good thing. Again, his large hands came to rest on Italy's head as he leaned in, pressing the side of his lips to the side of Italy's face. A blush conquered his cheeks and ears. His strong, baritone voice came out in a mere whisper, his lips tickling Italy's cheek with every word. "Y-you're so accepting, Italien. Ich liebe dich, I-I-I love you, so much that it hurts sometimes. I used to be so cold; I used to only gaze upon you from a distance and long to just wrap my arms around you. I'm glad zhat you let a big, scary, intimidating German man into your heart." Germany slipped his arms around Italy, getting his shirt wet in the process, but he didn't care. "I-I'm so varm now, Italien."

Italy giggled and shifted in Germany's arms. "You're not scary, Germany…"

After that embarrassment was over, Germany let go of Italy, but still speaking softer, "Lean forward so I can rinse you hair."

Italy did as instructed and felt a little exposed. Germany had seen him naked hundreds of times, but not like this. Not as a lover.

As the warm water washed over Italy's head, he squirmed under Germany's hands. One hand was moving his hair so that he could reach the scalp. The other hand, however, was holding his chin firmly in place. Why this was such a turn on, Italy didn't know, but he didn't really care.

Once Germany could see that all the shampoo was gone, he just stared. Italy could feel those icy blue eyes searching him. Just as Italy opened his mouth to speak, Germany pressed his face into the Italian's hair. Italy squealed in surprise, and squealed again when Germany spoke.

"You don't smell like you normally do."

Italy could feel his husband breathe deeply, and exhale the warm air back into his skin. Truthfully, Italy felt like Germany was just teasing him, so in turn, Italy was going to tease back. "It's because I smell like you."

Germany pulled back, gazing at Italy, dumbfounded. What in the world was he implying?

Italy cutely raised his hands out of the water, forcing his index fingers together. He turned his head only slightly, so he could peak at Germany over a slick shoulder. "W-we, um, hug and uh, k-kiss lots, so of course I smell like leather, potatoes, paper, and beer." Italy swiveled his body ever so slightly, so that he was almost facing his husband.

One eyebrow raised, Germany almost smirked. Leaning forward, he meshed their lips together. Italy brought a shy hand up, tracing his fingertips over Germany's face.

"Is that what I smell like?" Germany had to try really hard not to laugh.

"Well, um, yes… I left out a few things though… potatoes, beer, leather, paper, sometimes gunpowder, sometimes pen ink, ice; yes, ice has a smell; oh, and you smell like wurst and sausage, plus you smell like-" Italy leaned in and took a deep breath. "It's funny, you smell a little like pasta!"

Germany couldn't help himself, "That's because we hug and kiss a lot. Of course I'm going to smell like you."

"I smell like pasta?" Italy turned his head, eyes bright and attentive.

"You smell like… like love, I guess." Germany scratched the back of his head and pulled at his shirt collar with a mostly dry hand.

Italy's eyebrows scrunched together. "Ve, what are you saying, Germany?"

With a red face, Germany mumbled quickly, "I mean, you, well, it's like this. I smell pasta, spice, chocolate, sugar, cake, tomato sauce, roses, flowers, candy, gelato, and so many other zhings. I've decided zhere is no point in trying to decipher all zhe different scents; vhy not just file you under vone label? So I have decided zhat's vhat l-love smells like."

Italy was at a complete loss for words. His jaw hung slightly ajar, eyes popped open and pupils desperately searching Germany for any sign of rebuttal. Instead, Germany just stared at the floor, his face heating up and cooling down at the same time.

Grabbing his husband, Italy dragged Germany forward, causing him to lose his balance and topple over into the tub, soaking himself and the floor tiles. Water dripped off his now free bangs onto Italy's cheeks, and his ice blue eyes stared straight into Italy's creamy eyes.

Leaving the tub, Germany's shirt was shed in an instant; he popped over half of the buttons in doing so. Without a word, his drenched pants and undergarments were shed as well, wholly exposing himself to Italy. Italy shrunk in the tub as he watched Germany, almost afraid of what was about to happen.

On the other hand, Germany forced Italy back in the tub as he slid in, hovering over the Italian's form. Lips closed together as Germany forced Italy farther and farther back, until his warm back hit the cold side. Germany's calloused hands wandered freely, thoroughly feeling his lover.

Those same hands drifted lower and lower, dipping into the warm water, but still sliding across Italian skin, Germany reached just below Italy's belly button. Italy tensed beneath his hands, tightening his stomach. He squeaked, turning his head sideways to press his hot face against cold plaster. Germany rested his lips along Italy's collar bone, leaving plenty of marks as he sucked. His hand ghosted over Italy, just barely touching the tip with his index finger.

Italy was actually very inexperienced, and this was scaring him. Cold sweat rolling off his brow, he flung his arms around Germany and pulled himself into his lap before burying his teary eyes into a broad shoulder.

"Lud…!" Was all he could manage as he bucked himself into his lover's hand, forcing Germany to wrap a tentative hand around the small length.

Germany only had to stroke him once and whisper his name before Italy came.

Breathing heavily, he squeezed Germany tighter. He was scared Germany would make fun of him. Germany was probably experienced and thought it silly to let loose that early. The tears just poured out of Italy's eyes as he mewled, "I'm so sorry, Ludwig, I-I'm not good enough for you-"

"Don't say that." A small kiss to the cheek was really all Italy needed. "You surprised me vith your forvardness. I like it." Voice hazed over and husky, Italy grasped for something, anything, on Germany he could grab. To no avail, he grabbed his elbows that were around Germany tightly. Another kiss. "Let's get out. I vant to- I vant to take you to zhe b-bed."

Italy's voice hitched in his now parched throat. He could only nod as Germany hoisted him out of the tub. Italy immediately wrapped his slender legs around Germanys waist and laced his arms about those firm shoulders. They just stared into each others' eyes as Germany strode to the bed.

Just as Germany's arms around Italy came to rest on the bed, there was a knock at the door. Germany fought back an extremely angry groan. Instead, he silenced himself by stealing a kiss from Italy.

Then the door just opened. "It's not normar for me to intrude, but I must speak with you, Mr. Germany, n-"

Japan stood there, gaping at the two. A camera appeared out of nowhere and Japan stole a ninja of a picture before disappearing somewhere in the house.

Germany cursed audibly before turning back to face Italy, "I'm sorry, I almost just-"

Italy flipped Germany down onto the bed and kissed him fiercely as if to say shut up.