Italy and Germany woke early. It was cloudy out, so the house was dark. And also eerily quiet, even if Italy was up. Normally he would be bouncing around, singing songs and whatever it was he felt like doing loudly. Only it was around seven in the morning and if you lived with him, he wasn't going to get like that until he had a nicely brewed cup of highly caffeinated coffee.

He rubbed his eyes through one of the sleeves that was adorably too big on him. Being too sleepy and lazy Italy didn't bother going through the clothes on the ground and grabbed one of Germany's shirts. Germany didn't mind, though. In fact, he found it slightly arousing. Luckily the Italian managed to find his own boxers.

Germany just stuck to putting on a pair of plaid pajama pants. He smoothed Italy's hair back as the smaller man sipped on his coffee. He placed as kiss to his tanned skin where his hair normally fell. Italy smiled, leaning into his hand. Germany took a seat next to him, wrapping an arm around him.

Germany grabbed his own cup and sipped quietly. It's not as though he hated it when Italy was being abundantly cheerful and loud, but he truly did enjoy the moments when he was too tired to really do anything. Especially early in the morning.

In a way, Italy was like a child. Sometimes this got on Germany's nerves, how he couldn't really take care of himself, or how ignorant he was on some matters. But at the same time it meant that he didn't drag along the same sort of bullshit that all other adults seemed to whine about. It was nice to live a life a simplistic with him. A life where he could just be himself and not worry about Italy reading too much into it.

As they ate and sipped their beverages, Spain slumped into the kitchen. Germany and Italy both looked up at him, surprised that he was up this early and out of his temporary bedroom. Especially after last night.

"Oh Spain, you're up? How are you feeling?" Italy asked, concern evident in his groggy voice. Spain smiled.

"I'm fine, Italy. Actually, I'm better than fine. Romano and I made up and we're. . . together." Both were shocked, Italy smiled.

"Oh yay!"

"Ja, I'm glad for you two." Germany put in.

"Thank you, amigo." Spain looked at the couple, embracing and sharing breakfast together. He chuckled lightly. "You two really are a good couple, you know that." He laughed even more. Italy tilted his head to the side in confusion.

"What's so funny?"

"Ah, it's nothing." Spain waved a hand, sitting down across the table. "It's just that . . . can I tell you guys something and you promise not to judge me?" Neither made any sort of promise, just staring at Spain expectantly. The man sighed and continued. "Well, when I first got Romano I didn't really like him all that much. Italy, however, was much more enjoyable. I continued going back to Austria, begging him to switch them. I wanted Italy, I liked Italy more. And by all means, we were more compatible. Both cheerful, happy, go-lucky people." He could see Germany's eyes slightly narrow and his grip around his boyfriend tighten as he pulled him closer. "Not that I had any romantic interest in him. But he was my first choice."

Romano was fuming from the hall where he was hiding. He almost walked in right then and there, ready to yell and break everything off.

"But it was the wrong decision." Then the color drained from his face. He pressed his ear further. "I soon realised afterward that everyone say Lovino that way. They always put him second. He was always jealous, of you, Italy. And I don't blame him. People expected him to be like you, and when he wasn't they would sort of just cast him aside. I felt horrible when I learned this. I was too busy looking at all of his faults that I didn't realise that there before me was a good person who was just wronged. I can't imagine what a life of being second best must be like. I can't imagine my life if I hadn't looked the other way. Lovino is so special and I love him so much."

"I-I didn't know Romano felt that way." Italy croaked weakly, feeling upset. Spain looked up at him.

"Don't feel bad, Italy. It wasn't something you could control. It's not your fault. But I swear to you," he got up, pushing the chair from underneath him, "I'm going to make Lovino know every single day how special he is." Romano walked in at this moment, wrapping his arms around Spain and burying his head in between the mans shoulders.

"I love you." He mumbled. Spain could barely hear it, but he could just make it out.

"What was that?" He could practically feel Romano's scowl appearing on his back.

"I love you, okay? Bastard." He said a little more clearly. Spain smiled, spinning around and placing a kiss on the Italians lips. Spain wrapped his arms around his back, pulling him in close. And Romano let him. He let himself be held, he let himself be pulled in, and he let himself enjoy this with every fiber of his being.

Germany cleared his throat.

"Oh, don't mind us." The two men broke apart, Spain wiping his mouth and Romano glaring at him.

"Sorry amigo. I just couldn't keep my hands off of him. Certainly you can get that." Spain offered with a wink. Romano looked flabbergasted.

"What?"

"They weren't exactly quiet last night. Not that I heard much, but I think I can safely assume that it wasn't ghosts in their room last night." Italy and Germany's eyes widened in horror, Romano's face glowed red in fury, his eyes practically bulging out of his head crazily. . He pushed Spain away from his own body, lunging forward.

"I'm going to kill you! You potato sucking son of a fucking bitch!" Italy screamed as Romano's fist collided with Germany's jaw.

Romano howled, grabbing his hand and falling back on the ground. Spain had held him by the shoulders to prevent him from falling completely on the ground. Italy went to Germany, putting a hand on his shoulder and trying to look at the damage.

"Ouch!" Romano winced as Spain held his damaged hand.

"Germany, are you okay?" Italy asked. Germany nodded.

"Ja, I'm fine." He rubbed the area where Romano had punched him. It wasn't that bad, honestly. Romano wasn't the best when it came to swinging a throw, and Germany had been hit worse in some unfortunate bar fights with his brother.

"No offense Romano, but you kind of deserve that." Spain said examining his hand.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"They're allowed to be intimate, they're a couple now. How would you feel if Italy punched me if you and I were to have sex." Romano simply rolled his eyes, turning away from him. Germany got up reluctantly, walking over to the very man who had just attacked him.

"Here, let me see your hand." Reluctant and scowling, Romano gave his hand for the German to inspect. He looked at the reddened knuckles, bringing his brows together. "You'll be fine. You hit me square in the jaw, so there's bound to be some bruising on your hands."

"Hmph."

"Come on, let's go upstairs." Germany offered. Romano looked like he was about to say something, but Germany and Italy were already on their way to the staircase. Germany added, loud enough for the room to hear, "We need to get cleaned up from last night."He smiled, leading a giggling Italy upstairs with a sharp smack to his ass.

An amused Germany could hear Romano chanting profanities from downstairs.

Only a few more chapters left. The story is coming to an end. I hope you've all enjoyed it so far. Till next time :)