I'm back with a short, but interesting chapter! I was having a hard time with this chapter, but the slump is over!

Anyway, chapter 6!

Italy filled his suitcase, rather sloppily, on top of the bed he and Germany shared. Shirts, pants, and other clothing items were balled up and shoved forcefully into the bag. Germany sat, staring at the nonchalant way Italy was tossing his shoes on top of all of his clothes.

"Don't you think that you should be packing with a little more care? Your clothes will be all wrinkled." The blonde man put in.

"Oh, don't worry! I'll have time to hang and iron everything once I arrive at Romano's." Italy replied, waving a hand over at his partner and not taking an eye off of his bag.

"But you can avoid having to do that if you packed more carefully." He said, getting up to help his boyfriend.

"I'm fine." Italy spun, placing a chaste kiss on the taller mans lips. Germany smiled. "I'm a grown man, I can make decisions for myself, you know."

"Ja, I know." Italy refrained from mentioning sex, remembering his conversation with France two days ago. "So what prompted you to visit your brother again? You said he and Spain had a fight?" He asked, walking back over to his chair and picking up the newspaper once more.

"Si, so I'm going to check on him. I know Romano may seem like he likes his privacy and that he's happy on his own, but I know better."

"Did you call him to tell him that you were coming?"

"I thought about it, but decided to just drop by."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Ludwig, I told you I can handle it. I'll be fine." Italy zipped up his suitcase, triumphantly patting the bag. "There. Alright, I'm going to get going." Italy dropped his bag on the floor with a loud thud. Germany got up, walking over to hug his italian from behind.

"I'm going to miss you." He said, burying his head in the crook of Italy's neck. Italy tilted his head to the side, letting out a moan. It was hard for Italy not to try and drag him onto the bed in what would probably be another futile attempt to bed his boyfriend, but France's advice was echoing in his mind. Besides, he didn't want to push Germany away.

But it was hard, especially when those strong hands were running up and down the sides of his body.

"Germany, I gotta go now if I want to get there for dinner." Italy whirled around, wrapping his arms around Germany's neck, pulling him down to kiss him deeply, yet quickly. He pulled away. "I love you, and I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too. Call me when you get there, okay?"

"Okay."

"Let me get your bag." He said whilst tossing the suitcase over his shoulder and escorting his boyfriend outside.

After they said some long good-byes, Germany waved Italy off from the car. As soon as it was out of sight and far along the road he went back inside. He wanted to do some work, but he knew more than anyone that if Italy was packing, it was very likely that he left a mess in the room before he left.

No surprise, he was right.

Italy's half of the closet was disorganized and cluttered. Clothes were either on the floor with his shoes, or they were falling off the hangers. He sighed heavily. He loved Italy, but that didn't mean that he still didn't do things that bothered him. And his carelessness with his clothes was one of them.

Germany bent down to pick up the clothes. He folded some, hung others and the rest he threw in the hamper, knowing they were dirty.

"Seriously, how does he know what's clean and what isn't?" He mumbled to himself.

Afterwards, he went to put the shoes back on the top shelf. But as he went to go and place the brown Ferragamo shoes on the shelf, it broke, slightly. It fell forwards, allowing several items to fall to the floor. Germany cursed under his breath.

He realised that the Italian kept a lot more up there than shoes. There were old books, magazines, photo albums, and even a box, which Germany picked up. It wasn't anything special, just a lightly colored, wooden box. What struck as odd, though, was the carving on the side that read Property of France.

Why would Italy have a box from France hidden in the closet? The german knew that it was wrong, that he shouldn't look through it, but the curiosity ate at him. He slid the lid off to look inside, blushing a dark red when he saw what was inside.

"Uh . . ." He croaked out.

"Germany! Germany! It forgot something!" Italy called from the hallway. Snapping from his thoughts, he quickly slammed the box shut and replaced it on the floor, pretending that he hadn't noticed it. Instead, he rummaged through the shoes.

Italy popped through the doors to the closet.

"Oh there you are! What happened?"

"Oh, it's nothing. Your shelf broke and I took to cleaning it up. It's no problem, really. Don't mind me. You said you forgot something?" He sputtered out quickly. It went over Italy's head, who just bent down to pick up the box. Germany's eyes grew wide, but pretended not to notice.

"Si, I forgot this." He patted the side of the box. "Now I really need to go. I'm sorry you have to clean up my mess."

"It's no problem. Just go, you'll miss your flight."

"Right. Ciao, I love you."

"I love you too!" He called, but Italy was already running out of the house and back into the car. He slammed the door shut as the driver headed towards the airport, yet again.

Italy slumped into his seat, relaxing as his hands curled over the box.

"Oh, I haven't even looked what's in this box yet." He said to himself, opening it. The normal smile that was on his face vanished. His eyes grew wide and his mouth agape when he saw the gay porn dvd's within it. "Oh mio Dio. I'm glad Germany didn't see this." He said as a mild blush burned on his face.