"What are you dummkopfs doing out here," came a very familiar voice. The dark figure held a light up to his face.
"Thank God, it's only Germany. I thought it was going to be a mean old ugly witch or something," Poland said.
It's only Germany? I guess that was a nice way to think about it, despite the fact that he caught us trespassing on his property. Not to mention Poland just called him a mean old ugly witch. Nothing to be worried about at all.
"Poland, is that you?" Germany called out through the rain. "That must mean that Lithuania is the one that got caught in the pit. Why are you guys of all people here? I almost thought that it was my brother coming here drunk again. When he gets drunk, that idiot forgets he doesn't live here anymore."
Prussia didn't live in Germany's house anymore. I suppose that was one less thing to worry about.
"We're looking for the tomato box," Poland said surprisingly seriously.
Germany stiffened. "How…nostalgic. My wife would know more about what happened to that thing. Follow me to my house, and you can talk to her about it. But if you upset her I will not hesitate to kill you." I didn't know Germany was married. I wonder who he had settled down with. Hungary? No, she was with Austria. Belgium maybe? No, she should still be pretty mad at him. Then there was that Italy guy that was always hanging around him before. That couldn't possibly be it. There was no way that Germany would be into that sort of stuff.
"That's all fine and dandy, but could you please get me out of here! I'm just kind of cold. And you know really wet."
"Oh right! Liet! I like totally couldn't find any ropes," Poland said.
"What about the one you tripped over?" I asked.
"I thought about it, but the ropes were too tight to untie," Poland replied helpfully.
"Not to mention I kind of need that rope for my alarm system. Hold on I'll get you out," Germany said. He went to the woods near us and picked up a rather large stick.
"Here, grab hold of mein stick," he said.
That may have been bit awkward, but I took hold and he pulled me up. I could more clearly assess the situation from up here. Poland was just a bit less soaked than I was. The trees must have given him more coverage. It looked like he had actually been working pretty hard. His light pink nails were slightly chipped from trying to undo the knots.
"Let's go or my clothes will get like totally ruined," Poland complained.
Germany sighed and shook his head. At a brisk pace he lead us back to his house.
"Italy, I'm back and we've got company. They say they want to talk to you about something," Germany said as he opened the door.
"Oh?" a woman at the table said. She had a giant bowl of pasta in front of her. She got up to come greet us. Wait, that couldn't possibly be…
"Oh my God, she's huge!" Poland blurted out.
We were so dead. Germany's eyes went wide with shock. He gauged his wife's reaction and then whipped his head around to glare at Poland. Since Poland was oblivious, he redirected his gaze toward me. He had warned us not to upset her, and Poland had gone and said that. If looks could kill, this was probably the start of World War III. The first one Germany was blamed for, the second was actually his fault, and the third one is where everyone dies because Poland called his wife fat. I tried to save both of our asses by sending him apologetic looks.
However, his wife didn't look surprised, or even upset. She had a happy little smile on her face as she held her baby through her stomach.
"Yep! This baby is going to be big and strong, just like his or her daddy. I'm so happy!" She kissed Germany on the cheek and he calmed down.
"Poland! I haven't seen you since the wedding!" She took Poland's hands.
"I know, it's like been forever. So Italy, what's up, other than you being all prego and all…" They continued to talk like a pair of tweenage girls. I was baffled. Italy was a girl? This whole time? Wow, I'm glad I didn't express my disbelief, or we'd be in even more trouble.
"Oh I almost forgot, the pasta's getting cold. I made plenty, so you guys are welcome to have some. But look at you! You're all soaked! I'll bring out a change of clothes. You should lay your wet ones by the fire."
"Oh, could you lend me that one outfit from that one time!" Poland said.
Italy got a weird look on her face. "Alright, if you really want to…"
She waddled off to another room. I sat closer to the fire. The dry warmth felt good on my skin. She came back with two piles of clothes. She handed one to me and the other to Poland and waddled back to the kitchen. Relieved to have something different to wear, I stripped off my clothes. I was just in my boxers, which were also soaked, but I wasn't going to take those off.
"Ooh, are those the ones I got you last year for Christmas?"
"Actually, I think…WHAT THE HELL POLAND!" I had turned to look at Poland. He had gone too far this time. "WHY ARE YOU WEARING A BRA?"
"Isn't it cute! I saw it and like just had to get it!" He twirled around so I could get a better look at it. It was pink and black lacy. Poland was wearing the matching panties. It actually looked pretty sexy BUT THAT WASN"T THE POINT! Poland was a guy! Why was he doing stuff like this? It usually didn't matter if he looked good in girl's clothes as long as he felt good about himself, but it felt like I was going to have a heart attack. What was wrong with me? I should be used to this sort of thing by now.
"Is there anything wrong?" Italy said as she came back in the room with two more bowls of pasta. She set them on the table. I attempted to cover myself up. This was the first time a girl had ever seen me this naked, if you didn't count Poland of course. She didn't seem to be freaking out as much as I was.
Germany rushed over to her and covered her eyes. He looked embarrassed for her.
"Oh come on Germany I've seen naked men before. Have you seen David?" it almost sounded like she was lecturing him.
"This is different! These are real men. I don't want you to…"
"Is this a challenge? Do you want me to name all of the guys I've seen naked?"
"But…"
"Let's see…there's Romano, he was my first, but we were just kids, France, then again who hasn't, Spain, technically, Greece, Japan, he wasn't to happy about that, but hey we were allies, so it was bound to happen eventually, Grandpa Rome, that was a bit disturbing. Oh and Prussia, but that was an accident. Not to mention I had my own…"
"Fine! Do whatever you want! I don't care!" he threw his hands off from her face.
She had a little grin on her face. "Nope! I'm only interested in seeing you," she teased. She lifted herself on her tippy toes so she could kiss Germany lightly on the lips. "Let me know when you boys are done!" she said as she made her way back to the kitchen. Germany shook his head with a smile on his face.
I was too distracted by their spat that I had forgotten to get dressed. I quickly slipped on the camouflage shorts and black muscle shirt. Obviously these were Germany's.
And Poland's clothes were obviously Italy's. It was his signature color of course. The pink miniskirt showed off his long legs. The sleeveless shirt was skintight and would accentuate his curves if he had any. He twisted around trying to get a better look.
"You can't like see my bra straps, can you?" he said.
"Poland…no I can't." There was no use trying to reason with him anymore. He had fully made the plunge. He was completely enveloped in girlish aura. My best friend was a cross dresser, and he was damn good at it, too.
We sat down at the table. There were four of us, but only three bowls. Italy gave the smaller ones to Poland and me and shared the big one with Germany. She shoveled the pasta in her mouth with her fork. Meanwhile, Germany was trying to make the perfect spaghetti swirl around his. It was neat and compact. He lifted his fork to his mouth but was intercepted but Italy's. Germany looked disappointed. To make it up to him, Italy lifted a forkful to Germany for him to eat off of her spoon. It wasn't the perfection that Germany hoped for, but he still accepted her offer. Was this how they always ate? She sent her fork down and brought another messy scoop to her lips. Oh no, this couldn't possibly be happening.
One of the noodles coming from their mouths was connected, bringing them closer and closer. I tried not to look at anyone, especially Poland. He loved this sort of stuff. There was only one way this would end. Their mouths touched as they fought for the last bite of the noodle. Germany was doing some tricks, playfully trying to make her let go, but Italy threw him off. She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew herself further into him. They broke away with Italy looking victorious.
I didn't know how much more of this sickly sweet stuff I could take. I ate the pasta as fast as I could. As soon as I was finished, I blurted out, "Well, thank you for your hospitality, but we should probably get going! Come on Poland."
"Wait, I like haven't even asked her yet. Italy, remember that story you told me last time? What happened to the tomato box?"
Italy's eyes widened and she thought for a moment. "Uh, I think Romano had it last. I don't quite remember what he did with it…"
"K thanks, bye!" I said. I dragged Poland away, barely remembering to grab our wet clothes. We would have to return their clothes some other time. It had topped raining. There was puddles and mud everywhere. I made my way up the hill where I knew Poland's pony was waiting. Why had I reacted like that? There was nothing wrong. Sure, I had never done anything remotely close to that. I didn't want to think that I had imagined in that moment of doing that with Poland. I looked back at him slyly. It was probably just because he looked so much like a girl today. That had to be it.
Poland had stopped at the foot of the hill. He crossed his arms. "No way I'm climbing that thing. My shoes will totally get ruined."
I looked down at his feet. It looked like he had borrowed those from Italy as well. They were already caked in mud. I sighed. I really didn't have much of a choice. I went back for him.
"Climb on," I said as I lowered my back to him. He hugged my neck and locked his legs around me. The shoes got mud on Germany's shirt.
I trudged my way up the hill, somewhat burdened by the extra weight. This wasn't so much different than how we slept. I was glad at the moment Poland couldn't see my face. He'd probably make fun of it. I focused my thoughts in finding our way up the hill, trying to ignore that light and quick thumping of Poland's heartbeat I could feel on my back.