As it turns out, Italy figured out he liked showering with Germany more than he like bathing with him. While the bath was relaxing, the shower was sexually stimulating and calming. He also loved the way Germany washed every part of his body. He was on knees, washing his thighs, slowly dragging the soapy cloth along the expanse of skin. Germany would also leave kisses along his skin before he washed over it.

Italy leaned his back against the cold shower wall, pushing his pelvis forward so that Germany could get better access to wash it.

He looked down at the wet blonde hair moving along his skin. He began to feel teary eyed. The sniffles, though he tried not to show it, were loud enough for the German to hear. He lifted his head up, blue eyes widened with fear and confusion.

"What's wrong? Are you not enjoying this?" Italy shook his head, looking down and letting the darkened wet strands of his hair stick to his face. The color from Germany's face drained. "Are . . . are you second guessing the relationship?" Italy's head shot up, eyes blown wide with terror.

"Oh God no! It's just . . . oh Ludwig, I feel like I don't deserve you." He got up, cupping Italy's face and running his thumbs over his cheeks soothingly.

"What on earth would make you say that?"

"You love me so much, and you do such nice things to me. You treat me so well, like right now and how you were just washing me. You always saved me when I needed it and . . . and . . . I always got in trouble, and was a burden to you, and I just didn't treat you the way I should have, and I still don't know how to do that, how to treat you well-" Italy was shaking his head in Germany's hands, ranting. Germany only smiled and kissed the man to shut him up.

"I see Romano's not the only one feeling self-conscious." He chuckled. How Italy loved that chuckle. "Italy, I love you. I love your faults," he kissed his forehead, "I love your virtues," he kissed his nose, "and I love everything that makes you, you." He kissed his lips. "True that you can be a bit annoying and do things that get on my nerves, but I accept all of those things, just like you accept my faults."

"I suppose you're right." He said wiping away his tears. "You're still so good to me."

"As are you to me." Italy smiled and leaned up to kiss those soft pale lips. Germany pulled away.

"May I continue?" Italy nodded, leaning back against the wall. The shower was big, but was still slightly cramped. It would have been nicer in his shower back home in Italy.

Germany's hands moved back over the smooth, tan, in other words perfect thighs of his lover. The washcloth was dragged further up until it was washing just around his groin area. Italy spread his legs further apart, allowing Germany to wash in between his thighs too. As he did so, he wrapped his mouth around the tip of Italy's now quickly hardening member. Italy gasped, not really expecting it but loving it nonetheless.

Germany suckled the tip, moving up and down, always going a bit further down the shaft with each movement. Once Italy was completely hardened, he made quick work of moving his head all the way along Italy's length. He couldn't quite reach all the way, he'd forgotten that Italy wasn't small, not in the slightest, but he could take most of it.

Germany dropped the washcloth on the ground, reaching down and grabbing his own equally hard member in his hands. He stroked himself, pumping and sucking all at once. He used his free hand to hold down one of Italy's thighs to suppress the bucking as much as possible.

Italy threw his head back, moaning loudly. He tried to grab something, but only found the slippery tiles behind him. He settled on threading his fingers through the blonde locked below him and using his other hand to run up and down his wet chest. Occasionally, he would grab one of his nipples, pinching and twisting it, or just brushing his fingers over it.

"Oh God, Ludwig. Uh." Germany smiled. Unashamedly, Italy moaned as loudly as he could. It was so hard to control himself when he had a hot, wet, sucking force enveloping his hard cock. It was too good. Germany smiled, running his teeth along the shaft and biting lightly. Italy bucked his hips backwards. "Ugh, no biting. Per favore." Germany pulled off for a quick second.

"No problem." And he went back to sucking. The hand that was holding Italy back now went to cup and fondle his ball sack. He could feel the heat they gave off as Italy came in his mouth with a hiss. He swallowed as much as he could, letting the stream of water hit his face and clean the rest off.

Italy was panting, fingers still entangled in his hair. Germany leaned his head into Italy's crotch, pumping himself quickly and forcefully. There was a sharp pang that erupted in the pit of his abdomen as he came in his own hand.

"Oh . . . Feliciano." The latter smiled.

"I love you, Ludwig." The muscular man looked up with a smirk, getting up and wrapping his arms around Italy's waist.

"And I love you Feli."

When they arrived back downstairs, they saw that Prussia had awoken. Apparently, he had also been given the good news too. He looked at the two emerging downstairs, getting up and practically jumping around.

"Did you guys hear the good news?!"

"We already told them, you idiot. Well, when I say we I should say Spain. I can't believe you told them without me! You bastard." Spain rubbed an apologetic finger across the knuckles of Romano's hand he was holding.

"I'm sorry."

"Eh, don't worry about, it's no big deal. But you two! I can't believe you just walked away and do . . . ugh, I think I'm going to be sick." Germany rolled his eyes, sitting down with Italy at the other end of the table.

"And be a little quieter next time." Prussia added. Germany and Italy blushed a deep red. "Don't worry we didn't hear that much."

"Can we not talk about this?"

"I'm just saying that you two need to be courteous about the people around you. There are others living here too, you know."

After that they didn't do much. They all lazed around in the kitchen most of the day just talking. Later on in the evening France burst through the house door. Germany almost lashed out at him for his rudeness and lack of consideration for anyone there, but Prussia put up his hand, explaining that he invited him.

"Oui! I heard that Spain and Romano finally got together and I just had to be here for the good news." Romano glared at him from under his brow. He'd never really liked France, he creeped him out. But he figured that he would have to try and get along with Spain's friends now that they were dating. Spain pulled Romano close to him with the arm he had around his shoulder, kissing his hair.

"I promise we can go be alone soon." He whispered into Romano's ear.

"Good." He mumbled.

"Another little birdy told me that Italy and Germany are having sex! How wonderful." He beamed. Italy and Germany blushed and fidgeted awkwardly in their seats. It wasn't that they felt ashamed or anything, but they couldn't seem to go anywhere without someone mentioning it.

"Why is it any of your fucking business whether or not others love lives are going well or not." France turned to the elder Italian.

"When your friends," he pointed to Spain, "are slumping around the house for days, drinking the night away and practically wrecking your house in the process, it becomes a little of my business." Romano glared at him, but he also felt a dull feeling of guilt inside of him. "But it's nothing, really. It's funny, though. Who would have thought that a small plan to get the two of you," he motioned over to Germany and Italy, "would also get another relationship to emerge. I mean, everyone looks so happy." They were silent. It was true. They were happy, together, in love. It almost seemed impossible for anything to go wrong at this point.