#also how are you gonna put Austria and America next to Hungary like that we all know she’s got the biggest dick

[royaltea000]

Proposal: Hungary, America, and Austria all "sharing" Maid Prussia, and rewarding him for all his cleaning with all the D he could want for his P

Anon I’ll be honest I fucking forgot that he’d actually canonically make a good maid in the cleaning sense 😭 also I’m trying to eat rn but I keep getting distracted by the imagery of Hungary just PLOWING that man’s hole like he’s on all fours with the maid dress rucked up around his hips, whimpering and crying while a pretty lady pets his back and calls him good boy- sorry I got distracted and also now I think I have covid

[thatsamericano]

Roses, Balloons, Chocolates, Wine, and a Custom Mix CD

Pairings/Characters: America/Romano. Background Gerita, appearances from Belgium and England.

Ratings: Teen, but only for cursing. Extremely fluffy with no warnings to speak of.

Summary: For Romano, Valentine’s Day is just another reminder that he’s alone and unloved. He doesn’t care that he has to spend time at a world meeting. But when a “secret admirer” surprises him with extravagant gifts they left at the chair he’d been using for the past few days, Romano realizes that he wasn’t as unloved as he had thought.

Word Count: 1987

Notes: Written for Day 7 of @hetaliancupid-hetaliaevent.

Veneziano was pouting as he walked towards the conference room hand in hand with his boyfriend. His older brother trailing behind them and scowling. “England is so un-romantic,” Feli complained. “I can’t believe he’d schedule a meeting on Valentine’s Day of all days!”

Germany frowned thoughtfully. “Normally I would argue that these meetings are important for international cooperation on world issues affecting us all. But I was hoping to spend more time with you today, schatz.”

Romano rolled his eyes. “Well, some of us are perpetually single and don’t give a shit.” Savino didn’t hate the concept of Valentine’s Day, a special occasion to spend time with a significant other and celebrate the love you feel towards each other. But since he didn’t actually have a significant other and was forced to spend way too much time around Feli and his macho potato, Savino wasn’t a huge fan of the holiday. For him it was just another reminder that he was alone and unloved.

“Aww, cheer up, fratello! I’m sure you’ll find someone soon.”

Savino scoffed. “Unlikely.” Little did Feliciano know, but Romano actually had found someone he wanted to be with. But America hadn’t been able to pick up on the many and increasingly obvious hints he had dropped over the years, so Savino was beginning to lose hope. Alfred wasn’t stupid, and Romano didn’t think he was that oblivious. Maybe he was ignoring Savino’s feelings because he felt uncomfortable rejecting him outright. That sounded exactly like something that idiota would do.

Germany pushed open the doors to the conference room where several nations were already milling around, speaking to each other in small groups. (They had left a bit later than usual, since Romano was dragging his feet and took a while to get ready.) The meeting room looked just like it had for the past few days, except for Romano’s chair, which was festooned with too many red, white, and pink heart-shaped balloons for him to consider counting. A crystal vase filled with red roses had been placed on the table where he would usually take notes, along with a giant heart-shaped box of what Romano could only assume was chocolates.

“What the fuck?” Savino muttered to himself.

Feliciano turned to him with a smug grin. “See, I told you, Savi! I knew you’d find someone.”

“It’s probably just a dumb prank.” Romano wouldn’t put it past someone to mess with him that way, wanting to see him get excited just so they could laugh at him later. But he could feel his face heating up as he pushed past Feli and his boyfriend and rushed over to the seat he’d been using for the past several days.

Romano’s eyes widened when he got close enough to see the box and see that it wasn’t just chocolates, but Godivas. If this was a prank, it was a particularly expensive and stupid one. He checked the small card stuck among the roses, but that didn’t provide a clue. It only said that it was “To Savino, from your secret admirer.” The person who’d written the note had drawn a heart with a cartoon arrow pointed through it underneath their message. Savino sensed that the handwriting was familiar, but he couldn’t recognize it instantly.

Romano frowned. “Ugh. I wonder why they didn’t tell me who they are.”

Romano sensed someone walking closer to him, and when he glanced over, it turned out to be Belgium. She had a small, inscrutable smile on her face as she delicately touched one of the roses with her fingertip. “I think they were nervous. It can be hard to tell someone you like them, especially if you don’t know how they feel about you.”

Wait, wasn’t Godiva a Belgian brand? Was Belgium his secret admirer? Savino’s eyes widened in alarm. He tried to respond, but he was struggling for words.

“Emma, I’m flattered. I’m really, really flattered, and I know I used to have a crush on you when I was a little kid, but—”

Emma laughed. “Relax, silly. It wasn’t me. But your secret admirer called me a few days ago to make sure Godiva was a brand you’d like. They were so anxious, and they really wanted to make you happy. It was adorable.”

“So you know who they are? Aren’t you going to tell me?”

Belgium smirked at him. “That would kind of ruin the whole secret admirer thing, now wouldn’t it?”

Romano glared at his old friend, but it had no effect on Belgium. She giggled as she walked away to go speak to her brothers, and Romano glanced around the conference room to see who his secret admirer might be. It clearly wasn’t Austria, who was kissing Hungary on the cheek. Savino’s heart lodged in his throat when he saw America from across the room. Alfred was smiling warmly as he handed over a black and white cat plushie to Japan. He knew the gesture probably wasn’t romantic, since Alfred liked to give his friends Valentine’s Day presents too. He had given Savino several stuffed animals over the years, and they usually sat on his headboard unless Romano was feeling particularly lonely, in which case he might hold one as he slept. But just the thought of America choosing Kiku over him hurt far more than it should have.

America looked up suddenly, and he gave Romano one of those huge, obnoxious grins that could make the sun look dim and dreary by comparison. Savino blushed and fought the impulse to smile back at him, but his lips were twitching at the corners. He forced himself to glance away, hoping against hope that Alfred had only met his eyes coincidentally and hadn’t noticed that Savino had been staring at him like a goddamn moron.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see America exchanging a quick word with Japan, who nodded in understanding. America zoomed around the table towards him so quickly that he didn’t even notice he’d bumped into Norway, who was glaring at America viciously after the unintentional slight. Hopefully Norway wouldn’t curse America with some weird troll later.

Alfred was flushed by the time he skittered to a stop in front of Romano. He was carefully holding a wine bottle with a red ribbon tied around the neck. “Hi, Vinny.”

Savino chuckled. “Hey, Fredo. Why the fuck did you run over towards me?”

“I wanted to give you your Valentine’s Day present before the meeting started.” America passed the bottle over to Romano. “I… uh, know you’re really into wine, but I don’t know much about it, so I asked the Secret Service guys I’m friends with, and apparently one of them is married to this gal whose family owns a vineyard in Napa Valley. It’s not Italian, but he said this was a really good year, so hopefully you’ll think it’s good enough.”

“That’s… that’s actually really thoughtful of you, bastard. Thank you.” Romano carefully set the wine bottle down next to the vase of red roses and turned back to face America.

America ran his hand over his hair, which was incredibly distracting because of how golden it looked, even under the greenish overhead lighting that wasn’t flattering to anyone in general. “I, um, also made you something.” He pulled a clear CD case out of his jacket pocket. Instead of handing it over right away, like he had with the wine bottle, Alfred took a deep, shuddering breath. He seemed nervous, but Savino tried not to get his hopes up. “It’s just some songs that reminded me of you. If you don’t like it, you can throw it away, I guess.”

Alfred finally held out the CD towards him, and Savino took it. He read the inscription Alfred had written in marker. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Savino! Love, Alfred.” It was a fairly normal inscription, but then a couple seconds later, Savino realized that Alfred’s handwriting perfectly matched the note from his secret admirer. He’d even drawn a heart with an arrow pointing through it.

Romano teared up. He was ecstatic, and he was in disbelief that his Alfredo, the friend he’d been pining over for ages, was actually his secret admirer. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”

Alfred blinked at him, clearly confused by his gratitude. “It’s just a CD, dude. Most of the songs aren’t even in Italian. And it didn’t cost me any money to make.”

“I didn’t mean the CD! I meant everything. You got me wine and roses, and a giant box of Godivas! You tied so many balloons to my chair that I’m surprised it hasn’t floated up to the ceiling by now!”

“That would take a lot more balloons. These chairs are really heavy. Do you think I should have gotten more balloons?”

Savino shook his head. “Only you could do all this and worry that it still wasn’t enough. I love you so much, Alfredo.”

“You… you love me? Like as a friend? Because if so, you’re gonna feel really awkward if you listen to that CD.” Alfred glanced away, chuckling nervously. “I put a lot of cheesy romantic ballads on there.”

Savino yanked Alfred down by his shirt collar and planted a firm kiss on his lips. America barely had a chance to respond before Romano pulled away and looked straight into his eyes.

“I like cheesy romantic ballads, and I like you. And not just as a friend, idiota.”

Alfred gave him a goofy, lovestruck smile. “Awesome.”

Romano smirked and played with Alfred’s tie to tease him a little. “I didn’t get anything nearly as extravagant for you for Valentine’s Day, but maybe later we can go back to my hotel room and listen to that CD you gave me. I’ll make dinner for us. It can be our first date.”

Alfred tilted his head down playfully. “I love your food, Vinny. And I love you.”

“I know you do.”

They kissed again, and this time it was more passionate and emotional, but it didn’t get inappropriate for their very public setting. Before it could get inappropriate, someone cleared their throat loudly, which interrupted them.

England had an awkward, mildly irritated frown on his face. “If you two don’t mind, everyone else is ready to start the meeting now.”

Alfred giggled. “Sorry, Artie.” He didn’t sound sorry at all, and Romano couldn’t blame him. He hadn’t thought about the work they were supposed to do today ever since he had discovered the surprise his “secret admirer” had left for him.

Romano sat down in his chair, and America took the chair next to him, where Veneziano had been sitting for the past few days. When he looked across the table, Feliciano was in the seat Alfred had been using during the extended multi-day conference, taking up the place between Japan and Canada. He beamed and waved to them from across the table. Alfred waved back enthusiastically.

Savino turned to look at his Valentine. “You switched seats with my brother?”

“I kind of told him what I was planning yesterday and asked if I could sit next to you if things went well. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Of course not. I’m glad I get to sit next to you.” Now Veneziano’s certainty and smugness earlier made sense. He had been so sure Savino would “find someone” because he knew Alfred had been planning to reveal his feelings today.

Alfred shifted closer so that they could hold hands under the table. England had started his opening presentation, but America wasn’t even feigning interest or pretending to take notes. “I’m glad I get to sit next to you too,” he whispered.

Savino ducked his head to hide the grin he couldn’t contain anymore and squeezed Alfred’s hand. His heart was beating too fast and he was too happy to pay attention to anything England might have been saying.

[inkstaineddove]

A German’s Guide to Romance

Pairing: GerIta

Characters: Germany, America, Britain, France, N. Italy, Prussia

Summary: After the events of the Buon San Valentino strip, Germany's still very much confused over his feelings for Italy. Luckily, Prussia knows the best nations around to help him!

Germany sighed and leaned back in his chair. He was wondering why he bothered talking about this at all with Austria and Prussia. Ever since he’d stopped speaking, the two of them had been giving him very amused looks. 

Roderich rose up. He was biting his lip to prevent himself from erupting into laughter. "I can't believe how dense you are. Gilbert must finally be rubbing off on you." He began putting his coat on. A snort escaped him. "If you honestly don't know what Italy means by all this still, there’s no hope for you. I'll be heading home now." With a flip of his hand, the be-speckled nation left.

"Does he not remember that he’s been free loading off us since the eighties?" Ludwig muttered before sighing. He wasn't sure if he was relieved by Austria leaving or upset. His brother couldn't be of much help, though the younger nation believed the other to be some sort of womanizing, sex god. That had to count for something more than for the usual familial idolization, right?

Prussia snickered. "You're such a dummkopf, West. Seriously, I saw that book you were reading. You don't read relationship books - those are for old, divorced chicks! Especially cause Hungary had some of those before I got back in her pants, suck it prissy boy!" He started in with his cackle. The German sighed once more. "That has nothing to do with anything! You're supposed to be helping me with my problems, not talking about who you've screwed!" Gilbert rolled his eyes. Couldn't he just lighten up for once? If Gilbert wanted to go on a tangent while giving his brother love advice, then just let it be! "Ja, ja. Just get the stick out of your ass. Obviously, I can't help you with the closeted gay problems you're having. Me and my aggressive heterosexuality don't do that. I can get you to the gayest guys I know though." "I never said anything about needing to come out of the closet!" At that point, it didn't matter what Germany may or may not have said. Prussia had made his mind up, deciding that this is what his brother truly needed. So he called up all his best friends and figured out the specifics of the meeting place. --- France was standing by the curb, ready to greet the pair as they got out of the car. "Mon ami! And his lil bastard brother too! Ah, so good to see both of you!" Ludwig's mood went from his usual level of displeasure to beyond aggravated in less than a second. "I'm not pouring out my feelings to this man!" Gilbert just shoved his brother into the Frenchman's home. "Nein! You're gonna talk and listen to him because I'm tired of you moping around the house! Only I can do that." Francis closed the door once the brothers were in and sat down on the love seat, his glass of red wine returning to his hand immediately. "Moping? Non, that's no good! Oh, already you remind me of Gil throughout that little union of the past and Toni before we got Romano to calm down." He put his hand to his chest dramatically. "Almost as bad as these two. Non. Worse than those two." These two referred to a very confused looking America and Britain, who were sitting next to each other on the sofa. Britain put his crossword down and glared at the two offending parties. "Why the hell would we be helping Ludwig? I thought he hated the three of us." Alfred laughed and kicked his feet up on the table. "Speak for yourself, dude. Germany and the Germans love me. Right bro?" "Nein. Not since you were spying on Frau Merkel." The German in question crossed his arms, looking more agitated by the second. Prussia raised a hand to cut the two off from an inevitable argument. "Fight later. You're all here today cause you're pretty gay and almost as awesome as I am. So almost-awesome that you're giving my bruder love advice, and by that I mean totally how to bone the Italian." He smiled and finger-gunned at Germany, who only felt his soul shrivel up more inside. Arthur and Alfred jumped up. Both were arguing against the Prussian's accusations. They weren't gay! They were completely straight! How was it not obvious? France sighed. "Aside from trying to get Marilyn Monroe and being married to the original Queen Elizabeth, have either of you been with a woman? Or ever been interested in one?" The two grew quiet immediately. After five minutes, America was the first to attempt to explain himself. "I totally would've gotten Marilyn if it wasn't for Joe DiMaggio...and Marlon Brando...and J.F.K...and the rest of the Kennedy family at least once." Meanwhile, the Briton besides him was glaring at France. "So? What does that have to do with anything, you Frog? Francis and Gilbert shared a look before shaking their heads. "Angleterre, all I'm saying is, the two of you are together and engaged to be engaged - what a horrible phrase, non? - while also having only been with one woman each." Prussia smirked. "I'd also like to remind the limey that he dated my boy Francis for a few decades too. Then went back to trying to destroy him." After patting his brother on the back, he turned on his heel and exited. "Later losers!" France pat the seat besides him. He tried to smile in a way that wasn't forced and appeared friendly, but it just turned out looking rather creepy and sent a red flag to the Germanic nation. "Have a seat." As soon as the words came out, Ludwig was on the floor. He sat with his legs crossed under him like a kindergartner. "Danke, but nein. The floor is just as comfortable." And less likely to feel me up, he thought with a grimance. The quartet sat in uncomfortable silence for awhile. Germany didn't know what to make of the other three. He wasn't close to any of them and didn't really feel comfortable pouring his heart out. He just wanted to go home as quickly as possible. It was America who would be the one break the silence. And, in typical fashion, he decided to speak the first thing that came to mind. "Seriously dude. Why the fuck would you wanna get in Italy's pants? Wouldn't you, like, break him?" This cracked France up. He could barely stay in his seat, almost spilling the contents of his drink all of over himself. This was one of the best things he'd heard all week. "Amèrique," he sighed once he regained the ability to talk. "You can't just go around asking people if they'd break their boyfriends. Otherwise you'd have to ask me that about dear Mathieu." There was a deadly silence. Alfred narrowed his eyes at his 'friend’. "I'm kicking your ass. I don't know when, I don't know how, but it's gonna happen." Germany cleared his throat before this could escalate any farther. Though it did make him feel better to know that the two of them acted like this outside of meetings. It no longer seemed like a front to annoy him and the other focused nations. "I honestly don't know why I'm trying to do this. This stupid relationship book told me to and I didn't know how to react. It was red roses! Red roses, he didn't understand, but I understood..." He drifted off until he was muttering to himself. All three of them shared looks. It was the silent consensus that Germany was finally beginning to lose it. If it wasn't so pathetic, it would've been hysterical. Arthur got up and went towards Ludwig. He knelt down in front of him. "Get a grip, man. Red roses aren't as big a deal as you're making them." He scoffed. "My God, who even stoops so low as to read self-help novels?" He turned to Francis and shrugged. "He's beyond our help." Francis quickly rose. "Non! It is never too late to save a poor soul. Allemagne, do not listen to that cynical bastard! I speak the language of love!" He twirled around and threw rose petals over himself and Germany. "You will get the boy whether it kills me!" "Dear Lord, please let it kill him." Arthur looked up at the ceiling and prayed aloud, arms extended skywards. France kicked him in the back and scowled. "Filthy limey," he muttered under his breath as he picked Germany up. Germany, for his part, looked utterly horrified at having the Frenchmen become his guide in love. He'd much rather have Russia show him the secrets of friendship and worldwide popularity than this. Now to make matters worse, Alfred was jumping around in excitement. "Dude, we're gonna hook you up! You got the love dude, the total fucking hero, and...well Arthur's pretty good in the sack so that counts for something!" Arthur massaged his temples. "Oi. Please can we just get this over with? I want to forget this day ever happened to me." The German smirked. "Ja, you can say that again." He slouched down on the now deserted couch, running his hands through his hair. He decided that he was only doing this for Prussia's sake, so his brother could feel useful for once. He'd just pretend this was all good advice and go home. America beamed. An idea had just come to him. "Yo! You should totally do what I did!" Once he saw that everyone's attention was turned onto him, he continued. "Just wait till Italy gets himself in a war, gets his ass kicked a bit, and save his fucking ass cause you're the hero! Fuck yeah, U-S-A!" The three Europeans glared at him. Of course though, he didn't pick up on it. "What? That's how me and Artie got together, ri-" "Fuck off, you twat. I didn't need your help." For good measure, he flicked the now obviously confused nation off. Britain turned to Germany. "Ignore him.” He closed his eyes for a second before opening them again. Britain smiled, appearing much calmer than he did a moment ago. “Ask him out on a date. That’s the easiest way to go about this. Don’t waste your time reading the subliminal messages in flowers when you could actually, and this might come as news to you, ask him about it yourself.” Ludwig groaned and began rubbing his temples. "I already did that. I wound up giving him a bouquet and proposing. He was crying, our waiter was about ready to be institutionalized, and my whole brain shut dow. I don't even remember what happened after that." He looked up. Everything about him showed how ridiculously weary he was of the situation. This was a battle that couldn't be won. He wanted to surrender. "I refuse to go through such hell again." France chuckled. "Oh, you Germans are so emotionally challenged." He flipped his hair and smiled. "You don't propose on the first date! You propose on the twentieth! Everyone knows that! No wonder your Italian lover had a meltdown." He laughed, a bit louder than what was called for. "You're still very much at square one. You must first let your feelings be known. Ridiculous to pursue anything unwanted." Britain laughed without any humor. "Then why did you try to force me into a marriage?" America turned at Francis, ready to lunge. "What the hell?" Francis brushed them both off. "It was because the Euro and my economy weren’t in a good spot, calm down." Germany sighed and stood once more. "You better hope this works. Or I swear, I'll..." He shook his head. "I'll probably give up. Ja, that's exactly what I'll do." Without another word, he walked out of the home and began his journey to Italy. Maybe this time, he'd finally find out what his friend-lover-companion-thing truly meant. And maybe he might just walk away happier. Ever the pessimist, the German doubted it completely. --- Italy sat outside his home, lazing in the warm sun. He had just woken up from his second nap of the day. The peculiar cat that always seemed to find its way to him was now lying on his chest. "Ciao, lil' guy! So good to see you!" He smiled while petting the kitten behind its the ears. Germany stood a few feet back, practically shaking. He could do this. He'd been through worse things, he'd seen things unimaginable. Confessing his feelings wasn't that hard if he thought about it. After thinking about it for asecond or two too long he decided that no, it was actually somehow worse. He shook the negative thought out of his head. It was now or never. "Italien!" He bellowed. "We need to talk right now!" Feliciano jumped up and the cat went running into the house. "Schieße," Ludwig muttered under his breath. Not even five minutes in and he'd already managed to mess it up. Might as well turn back... "Ve, Germany! I haven't seen you in forever!" The peculiar nation was already grinning. "Sit down, have a tomato! Big brother just brought them home from Spain's!" Hesitantly, Ludwig did as told. He even took a tomato, despite Romano glaring at him through the blinds. The older Italian mouthed curses at him. That eased Germany up and even got him to smile. If Lovino was being his usual irritable self, things couldn't be so bad here. "Say, Italy. Do you think France's opinions are...credible?" He leaned back on one hand. This answer would depend on whether he went through with the plan or not. "Si! Big Brother France is so wise! And nice too! He's always bringing me wine and food. Last time I saw him, he was even giving me advice on you!" He swallowed hard on his bite of tomato. "A-And? I hope it was all good things. We're supposed to all be allies now." He mentally kicked himself for saying that. He concluded that had to have been one of the dumbest things he'd ever said. Everyone in Europe was allies now. Italy knew that as well as he did. "Ve, it was real nice! He called you some weird thing in French and said I just had to deal with you can only express feelings like that of an emotionally constipated old man. Whatever that meant." Veneziano laughed. "He's such a weird guy." Germany couldn't help laughing at Italy's description of the other nation. "Ja, weird doesn't begin to cover it. I actually saw him today. Along with America and England an-" "How were they? I haven't seen America since the last meeting and he seemed really stressed. Something about Republicans and the Midd-" "You shouldn’t interrupt!" The Italian began panic-crying. Germany freaked out a little. Did it really come out that harsh? He was only trying to correct the other. "I-I'm sorry. I just wasn't finished yet. As I was saying, I bumped into those three arschlöcher and you came up with a bunch of other things." "Really? You were talking about me? Aw, Germany! I didn't think you did that kinda thing!" His smile turned into a grin. Ludwig felt a blush spread throughout. He tried to play it cool despite this. "Ja, well. I do...somewhat...really...like you?" That was a pathetic. If he was getting to this point he might as well just spill it out. "That was actually why we were talking because ever since that tomato ring and flowers incident where I don't think I'd ever wanted to suddenly drop dead more, I've been thinking about you and red roses and everything." "Roses mean that much to you? Ve! I'll have to start buying you more then!" "Nein! Uh, I mean nein. It's good for just Valentines. Which happens to be the holiday of love! Wow, what a coincidence!" Italy cocked his head to the side. Germany wasn't scaring him. But he was definitely confusing him beyond the usual amount. "Ludwig, I feel like you're not telling me something. What's bothering you?" The use of his human name threw him off. It was something he preferred the other nations didn't use often. Hearing Italy say it made him know that the other was seriously interested in this. For God's sake, his eyes were even open for once! The Germanic nation looked down at the ground. "Ich liebe dich." The words came out rushed and jumbled, not even sounding like separate words. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Ich liebe dich, Feliciano. I know for you that might not mean anything, but I don't go around saying it much. I barely even say it to my own bruder - which is a problem for a different day. I mean this with all my heart." He looked up at the other nation, who looked completely shell-shocked. He sighed. "Forget it. I'll get going. Guten Nacht." Germany stood up and dusted the grass off his pants. He turned with every intention in his mind to never speak to another Italian or set foot in Italy ever again. Prussia could deal with this part of Europe for all he cared. After walking ten yards, he heard someone running after him, calling out his name. Ludwig stopped, completely frozen in disbelief. Small arms quickly went around his waist and squeezed him as tight as they could. "Germany! Germany, don't leave yet! You didn't even give me the chance to respond! I love you too! Ti amo! Ti amo anch'io! Please don't leave!" Germany felt some tears soak into the back of his shirt. He turned around and looked at Italy, his features softening in compassion, concern, and a strange sense of happiness. "Why're you crying? I tried not to yell as much this time." Feliciano sniffled and smiled. "No, no. It's just my first love, he did what you were about to do. He left after saying he loved me and I never saw him again. And it scared me because you two look alike and...and I didn't want to sit back this time and watch you go." He looked up, into his love’s eyes. "I don't want to lose you now." Germany smiled. He was on cloud nine despite this confession. "Feli, I promise I will always be here for you. I will not disappear. Whoever it was who left you like that is a coward. I don't know much about this sort of stuff and I don't know how to do any of it-" this got him a laugh and a feeling of encouragement. "-but I know I will never have you go through that again." In response, Feliciano wrapped his arms around Ludwig's neck. He pulled the taller nation down to his height and kissed him. Germany's body, tense and frigid at first, quickly warmed up and began learning how this sort of thing worked. Meanwhile, on a bench a few feet away, England and America handed over the equivalent of twenty euros each to France. "You see those two? Just how you two started out. And look! I was involved in both. Ah, go me!" Germany quickly pulled away and glared at those three. "You've got ten seconds to get your sorry selves all the way across the Atlantic!" "Party at my place, dudes!" Alfred said as they immediately ran off. 

Germany smiled down at the man in his arms. "Does dinner out sound good tonight?" Italy grinned. "Si, it sounds perfect." Germany finally got back what made him a happier man for those three weeks. His Italian who made up for whatever Ludwig lacked in. He was whole.