Happy New Year!
Here's my present to all of you – a new chapter!
Quick note – I don't own the video this is based on or the outfit used here. All I own is a boxed set of Hetalia Axis Powers.
Enjoy!
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Germany awoke one fine Saturday morning to a peaceful house. Too quiet, he thought. He stole a glance at his clock – 8:45. Normally, Prussia would be awake by now, trying to blow up the kitchen to cook breakfast. Still, he thought, who would turn down such a peaceful morning?
This thought comforted him as he stepped into the shower. Ahhh. Today can't be bad. He thought. He'd finished a decent amount of work so today was free, Prussia was being quiet, and Italy was coming over later.
Italy…he thought. His little…friend. Really, that's the best word for him. Yet somehow his little ally had morphed into something else. Slowly, Germany had found himself noticing little things about his friend: his loyalty, his love of the beautiful things, his dedication – no matter how weak he was – there was a lot he never noticed before. It only made his feelings for the Italian grow past any kind of friendship.
Sadly, there was one thing that became more apparent the deeper his feelings got: Feliciano was both very clingy and very beautiful.
Beautiful was the only way to describe him: Italy had the same fairness that a lady had, yet there was an underlying strength that only a man had. That mixture - Italy's fair face, lithe body and small stature - was all intoxicating to Germany. This desire would normally be manageable if it wasn't for Italy's constant clinginess. Having to resist that completely delicious body or his face – with his big puppy-dog brown eyes, honest smile and lush, moist red lips – took the patience of a saint.
No, he thought, it's just a day with a friend. I can get through this. With this thought, he finished his shower and dressed. However, as he walked into the kitchen, he noticed a note pinned onto a corkboard –
Dear West,
Your turn to mow the lawn, Bruder!
Love,
Gilbert
P.S. I'm AWESOME!
Ludwig groaned. Really?! He glanced at the clock – 9:05. Italy would be here in about an hour; mowing the lawn took at least 30 minutes. That's enough time. If all else fails, I shower again. He thought. With that in mind, he opened the back door of the house and stepped into the backyard to find the mower.
He quickly regretted his choice.
It was hot. Not just any kind of hot; the kind that meant a storm was brewing somewhere. The kind where the humidity was so thick, you would have to hack it apart with a knife. The kind that caused sweat to gather on your brow by just walking.
Germany simply wiped his forehead and continued to a little shed in the backyard where the lawnmower was. Dragging it out to the yard – however – caused sweat to build on his body far too fast. It certainly wasn't helping that he decided to wear his full military uniform.
By the time he had started mowing, sweat was staining his uniform a darker green in … some very unattractive places. I need to do something about this. He thought. So, he took off his jacket and threw it onto a nearby deck chair. This didn't help so – very reluctantly – he removed his black tank top.
"Ah, much better." Ludwig now began to mow the lawn, his glorious body exposed to the eyes of all who wished to feast on him. Sweat now caused a glisten on him, making him seen as an angel. Ludwig did not notice as he was finally cool. Thus, a hour passed.
It was thus how he was seen by Italy.
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"Ciao Germany!" Italy yelled as he ran down the back path of Germany's house. He was stopped short by the sight of Ludwig without a shirt. Mio dio, so sexy. He thought. Italy clutched the bag in his hand as he drank in the sight of Ludwig's bare chest, glistening in the light from all the work he'd been doing.
Germany stopped the mower for a moment and looked up to see Italy. Scheiße! He's here already?! Quick, play it cool. "Italy! Guten Tag. I'll be done in a minute!" He yelled, not noticing the Italian was staring slack-jawed by the sight of him. He then turned back to his work, trying VERY hard not to pay too much Italian who haunted his thoughts.
"Ok!" Italy yelled, trying desperately himself to stay natural. But as the minutes ticked by, he found that a…um… HARD… thing to ask of himself. Not helping matters was the bag in his hand containing the costume along with three additional items he'd thrown in before leaving his house.
Finally, Germany was finished. Examining the lawn left him satisfied and he walked over to talk to his friend. Say something, ANYTHING! So you don't sound like eine verdammte Idioten! "So you're brother dropped you?"
"Yeah. He'll be back in a few hours to pick me up," Feli said, staring intently at Germany's face. "Say Germany, you look really hot. Why don't I get you something to drink?" Ludwig got no opportunity to respond before Italy took him by the shoulders and pushed him into a nearby lawn chair and walked into the house. He just sat there confused before getting up to put the mower back in its shed and collect his clothes.
Maybe I'll have regained some part of my composer before he gets back.
(What say you, fangirls?...Yeah I thought so. NO CHANCE!)
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Italy made it inside the house, closed the door and ran to the nearest bathroom. He only had a few minutes to get changed and grab a beer for Germany before nerves got to him and he chickened out. So, he took the bag and dumped out the contents. The outfit landed on the closed toilet seat with the three other items falling onto the floor. Said three items were varying degrees of embarrassing. The first two weren't AS bad; one was a pink petticoat to puff out the skirt and the other was a pair of Mary Jane shoes…. Don't judge.
The last one however, was the worst. See last night, he had to try on the whole ensemble to see how it looked and ran into a problem: no kind of underwear could be worn under that tiny little skirt.
Well, no kind of MALE underwear.
So the third item in the bag was a (assuming-he-actually-had-them) completely, hypothetical pair of white, lacy panties.
I can't believe I'm about to do this, he thought while holding up the panties. However, there was no time to waste; he had to get in that outfit before Germany got suspicious. So, Italy stripped in record time and wiggled into the outfit: first the panties, petticoat and socks, then the dress. He then shoved his other clothes into the bag he'd brought, grabbed the shoes and all but ran out of the bathroom. He stopped to catch his breath, flung the bag into a corner of the living room and slipped on his shoes.
That done, he sprinted to the fridge, grabbed a beer, popped the top off and stopped just before he got to the door. He looked down at the ridiculous getup he was wearing and had to take a deep breath. Oh Dio, please don't let me make a fool out of myself. Those were his thoughts as he opened the back door and skipped over to Germany.
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In the time it took Italy to get ready, Germany had put away the lawnmower and partially redressed. Just as he fitted his army jacket over his shoulders, he caught sight of Italy's head of hair bobbing over the tall hedges. The head turned a corner and Germany forgot how to breathe.
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Yeah, I'm stopping here for now. This is a lot longer than I planned so, a break is much needed for what I plan ahead.
However, my plans for this story may involve a wee bit of smut. Not a full one, but pieces of it. For that, I'm gonna need some love since I've never done smut with two people. So, if I get at least 5 reviews for this, I'll post the next chapter as soon as possible with the first of those little scenes.
See you next time, lovs!