GERMANO LOVE

It was the dead of night as Romano traced his hand on the firm shoulder muscles that embraced him. His hands were sliding down, caressing gently, trying to take in every contour. The skin was warm and smooth from the arms as he gently traced further to the rib side and into the pelvis. The warm skin looks like alabaster from the moonlight, creating more shadows as he continue caressing further down his partner's body. His hand stopped as it reached the vanguard of the blanket knowing quite well of the consequence if his hand were to continue down its journey. He settled for an embrace and rested his wandering hands over his lover, or was it too early to call each other as lovers?



It was very odd to have someone beside him this—this pale. He was used to the tanned skin of his former lover. That guy was also muscled but more—more slender and long-limbed and long gone from his mind.



He never thought in his life that he would ever do those kinds of things with this guy—this potato bastard sleeping in front of him. It was the same bastard whom he blatantly cursed the existence and denied the friendship to his little brother.



It was the same bastard who took care of Veneziano for years. The same bastard who was left and discarded by his brother after following the idiotic whims of some new love, but old to Romano; this guy whose arms was closely wrapped around his body, giving him warmth.



Despite having such a bulky, muscled appearance, this bastard treated him with such tender gentleness he would not have expected the guy to posses. Even if they fought for years—well most wretched remarks came from him primarily—the bastard still treated him with respect. The potato bastard did not treat him like a little kid when he came bawling his eyes out in his house.



Being treated like an adult was new to Romano too. No matter what he did, his... his, that Smiling Idiot would just twirl around and smile at him, saying "cute" as if cooing over a baby. Any concern or comment coming from him would be treated with as much coherence an adult would have over the mumbles of a child.



A lot of things were new.



He still feels distant from countless nights of lack of sleep but he hopes that it will change for the better.



Romano lingered in the moment, snuggling closer to the man whom he called potato bastard and feeling the warmth and security he has to offer. So this is the same blanket his brother used to have. The same arms that gave his brother pleasure and discipline were also the same arms that were now comforting him.



He looked at the man's face, Ludwig's face. It was different from the face of 'Germany' the ever stern and perfect soldier. His sleeping face looks more complacent, relaxed and happy and more... cute.



Cute?



He would never, ever thought to use the adjective 'cute' with this man.


Never.



But seeing how peaceful he sleeps with his hair loose and hanging on his head, his arms draped over him and his comforting words from the previous night still lingering in his ears, Romano can't help but say the very endearment he hears from that Smiling Idiot.



He continues to stare at Ludwig's sleeping face. It was beautiful as it was lighted by the moonlight from the windows. His body half naked, showing the tone of his muscles. If Romano was ever a good sculptor like his brother, this would be one of the moments of inspiration that would muse and fuel an artist for a lifetime. Too bad that his hands were more suited to hard labor and not meant for fine delicate past times such as art.



Romano then had the longing to see Ludwig's eyes and stare at them again. Those blue eyes, converted to gray by the moon as he stared at it in the heat of passion. The glass orbs of concern that was peering over him, checking if he's alright as the man slid in him and consummated the burning longing for friction that was laying dormant in them.



All the while, he was used to seeing green orbs like the forest looking down at him with that person's curly black hair, disheveled and wet from sweat saying Lovi this and Lovi that.



That person would often whisper strings of provocative whispers in his ear. In words not native to his tongue, but he understands enough to get the gist of it and melt into passion.



Passion was it?



Passion pours but can be reduced to cinders in a snap. Like a raging fire burning all the way, spreading to fucking everyone in the name of fucking, damn, passion.



As romantic as it sounds, passion dies out as fast as it burned. It grows smaller as it gets extinguished and dies on its own accord. He supposes nothing is eternal and yet Romano had a newly found respect for the humility of a candle.



As Ludwig towered over him earlier that night, his golden hair tousled and flared like the steady flicker of a candle on top of him. He beheld him in all his glory, pale and sculpted body akin to the bodice of candle's wax. It was smooth, warm and full, trying to ignite the dead cinders in him once again.



Though a candle's light may be blown away, you may light it again and again as the wax is consumed and the wick is at it's end, it will try to give you the same flicker of light as the first time you lit it.



Romano can't help it. He raised his hand and touched the German's face. It was cool to his surprise. Might he be cold?



He then pulled the blanket up and tucked it warmly around them, trying not to move too much and disturb Ludwig's sleep.



"What are you doing?" Ludwig mumbled.



Romano stiffened to the voice as he glanced up his lover's face, and see the very bluish-gray eyes he wished was open earlier to be staring at him.



His face blushed and opened his mouth intending to make a witty reply and yet his head can't come up with anything. He was still remembering those eyes that he stared at as they did it that night and the tousled blond hair he ran his hand through as he screamed Ludwig's name in extreme pleasure.



He blushed harder and just scooted closer in Ludwig's embrace so he can't see how ashamed he was. Ludwig made a soft chuckle and began patting Romano's silky hair in an affectionate manner.



"I didn't know you were so caring, Romano. You pulled the blanket up cause you thought I was cold?"



"Mfff—nooo! 'Course not!" Came Romano's muffled reply as he spoke huddled in Ludwig's chest.



"Really?" Ludwig said.



"I—I was sleeping!"



"Yeah right and you've been running your hands all over me when you were asleep?" The other man said as a small smirked formed in his lips.



Romano was speechless and cannot blush any harder.



Ludwig pulled away from the embrace and moved so that he and Romano would be face to face. He then saw one of the cutest and striking image of a pouting, blushing Romano.



In the dim light, Romano's face was milky pink with sharp amber eyes trying to look in the distance and hide his blush. His lips forming into a small pout that looks so full and kissable. His silky, tousled hair showing evidence of a lustful night and his skin, kissed by the Mediterranean sun, feels so exotic across his own pale countenance.



It was weird to see Romano in such a different light. He usually had his signature scowling face as he curses him with that deathly glare. But this night had been the first time for Ludwig to see a desperate, pleased, horny, loving and sexy side of the southern Italian. He would not have dreamed that he could lust so much over his ex-boyfriend's brother.



Romano on the other hand, was clearly avoiding Ludwig's eyes. As the German continue to pat his hair, Ludwig pulled on a very curly hair that bobbed freely on his head. This widened Romano's eyes, his back arching, and his mouthed opened to a silent moan of pleasure.



Ludwig's face changed to desire as he saw Romano's open plump lips and how pliable the younger man is within his embrace. He sees how Romano still wants to be in control of himself even in the throes of passion. Both the Italies have the same reaction when you pull their hair curls, and yet Romano is still Romano when he denies himself the full effect of pleasure. It was odd and yet sexy at the same time.



Romano pouted harder and struggled to free his hair curl from the German's grasp.



"Nnnnn— Stop it! Ludwig, stop pulling it!" Romano pleaded in annoyance.



Upon hearing Romano, call his name, Ludwig did stop and just stared at Romano with a content smile. He called him by his name. He called him 'Ludwig' and not some form of curse. (Well later he would realize that Romano calls everyone he loves with derogatory pet names as a from of endearment but Ludwig doesn't know that yet.)  



The only other time he heard this feisty Italian call him by his human name was but a few hours ago. They were in the climax of their passionate unification and as he loved Romano down to incoherence and coital bliss, Romano screamed his name most lovingly. It was most beautiful sound fueled by lust as if the Italian cannot help himself and he was compelled to moan the name of the man embedding his seeds in him.



The effect of this made him come twice as hard as he normally would have. It made his member twitch more and his orgasm sent extended tremors of pleasure crawling up through his spine and spreading throughout his body.



"Romano, can I kiss you?" Ludwig asked most earnestly as he lets go of the hair curl. The Italian was but a few inches from his face.



Ludwig doesn't really know at what point they are in the relationship. He was the ex-boyfriend of Romano's brother. Up until some few years ago, Romano considered him as a mortal enemy and somehow they managed to get along without the southern Italian flinging curses at him. Then, some months ago, Veneziano and him broke up and they had no connection whatsoever. That is, until Antonio cheated on him and he came here to confirm the news from Gilbert, who happens to be one of Antonio's best friends.



Romano blinked really slowly as if trying to translate what Ludwig just said. Apart from all of the things they already did, why does he need to ask for permission to— to—kiss him?



Can he not spare him the shame for answering that question?



How, how can he reply with the feel of Ludwig's warm breath hovering over his lips. That teasing inch that drives him insane. Why, why are those lips not against his own, licking and whispering sweet nothings against his open mouth as he was being kissed?



With face ever as scarlet as before, Romano struggled and flailed his hands to shove Ludwig's face further away.



"Wha—what? Why are you? You—mpppff—"



Ludwig took the shoving of his face away as a sign and kissed the blushing Italian into a sweet and loving kiss. Romano protested at first, trying to think. But he could think no further as the kiss deepened and his defenses melted away from the warm and the gentle way Ludwig was kissing him. He then grabbed a handful of the German's blond hair to angle his mouth better and opened his mouth to get more of the kiss.



Ludwig got the sign from the pulling pressure Romano has on his hair and let the southern Italian take control. It grew hungrier as they try to devour each other more lasciviously and heat swelled in their libido asking for a second round.



If there is one thing Romano is sure that he is better at than his brother, then that would be kissing. After that night, Ludwig could shamelessly testify to that and Antonio would have found out by now from Veneziano.



He kissed away Romano's worries, smoothed away his uncertainty and helplessness. He paved a road to make Romano feel better and make himself feel better at the process. Though, Romano was more like the one who was kissing him.



He was hurt like Romano was now, but he never showed it. He maintained a straight face when Veneziano said he wanted to break up. Apparently, he got tired of Ludwig and the northern Italian said it in an equally tired tone, akin to one who is throwing away his favorite boots because it was not stylish anymore. I guess you can compare it to how a conqueror invades land and a Casanova collecting lovers and Veneziano was the latter.



Everybody liked Veneziano, but in every praise and acclaim he gets, he casts a darker shadow to his brother. Through the years, Ludwig understood why the older brother was so spiteful. He had a reason for it.



Ludwig stared down at the southern Italian appraisingly. Romano was breathing hard; he was ever inviting with lips apart, wearing Ludwig's disheveled nightshirt that was too big for him. Ludwig stares at the tan skin on the open nightshirt rise and fall.



Romano was staring up at him covetously. Their lustful eyes meet, as if they can drown each other from their gazes alone. As he mounted Romano for the second time that night, he can't help but feel admiration for the southern Italian.



Despite being cheated on by his lover and betrayed by his brother, Romano said he couldn’t bring himself to hate either of them.



Romano said that ever since he was still a colony, Antonio really wanted Veneziano. He said Antonio was just a happy guy and gets happy on whatever he has. He doesn't really care enough. He just becomes happy. He learned that Antonio was cheating on him some months ago but he only recently realized to whom. It was with his younger brother.



The German went down for another kiss and Romano's hands were fondling the blonde’s hair. The Italian reciprocated the kiss, like someone famished and deprived of love. Germany was filling his mouth, trying to make him forget of the pain he bottled up in the days gone by. And yet as he kissed the taller man again, he remembers the words of his little brother and Antonio when he caught them kissing on the kitchen floor.



"Ve~ I'm so sorry fratello! It was just that Antonio and I was cooking some pasta for you and well, we got hungry and Antonio said I was cute and I was kinda sad that me and Ludwig broke up and I had some sauce on my cheek and he licked it and we kinda got it on. It was because the smell of the cooking food in the kitchen was so good and blah blah blah... "



The rest of what his brother said lost meaning from the headache and heartache he felt in that moment. Romano only sees his brother's shirt unbuttoned all the way and his pants were already down in his ankles.



It was the Smiling Idiot’s turn to say his pitiful excuse as he was hurriedly trying to get his pants up and said, "Eh, Lovi! I can explain! Uh—It's just that you two look alike and all and I somehow accidentally pulled his hair curl and blah blah blah…"



The rest of what was said was not really important.



Romano was in shock and he unemotionally said, "Do whatever. I don't care." He then proceeded to walk out his own house, leaving his brother and that Smiling Idiot in his kitchen.



He did not want to believe it.



He spent that night at the park and the next few days at different hotels. He did not talk to either of them nor answered anyone's call. A few days after the incident, Romano realized that he wanted to know how long was it that they were doing it behind his back. He then found himself knocking on the door of his brother's ex-boyfriend, looking for Gilbert.



Unfortunately, Gilbert was not there and he reluctantly poured his life's concern to the German instead after being offered a few mugs of beer. He was not a light weight when drinking, but all the shock and heartbreak just took a toll on him. He was still somewhat sober, but he just wanted someone to listen to him while as he vent his feelings and cry his eyes out.



The most annoying part of all of it was him, realizing that he isn't mad at the two.



He can't bring himself to hate his brother or Antonio. If it made the two people he loved happy, then maybe he should be happy for them too? And yet, why does his heart ache so much? It feels like little maggots slowly eating away the dying parts in his heart. It hurts, but it was making a room for something and trying to salvage what’s left.



Tears started to well in Romano's eyes, as the German spreads small kisses on his neck. Ludwig started to hear the sniffles and taste the salty wet trail of tears that slope down his lover's cheeks.



Ludwig sighed with love and caressed the southern Italian's head.



"I—I think we should stop." Romano said, as he held a hand to Germany's chest and his face looking at the distance.



"Does it still hurt?" his partner asked as a hand slides down his chest, above his heart.



"I don't know. I feel... weird. I don't want to care and yet some part of me says I still want to go back home and pretend nothing happened. Ah, but of course me and… me and that tha—him, won't be anything anymore. That, and I think me sleeping with you here is… wrong and—"



"Hush, stop thinking for a while Romano. Just stop thinking of them and think about something else or not think at all."



"How can you say that? How can I not worry? I mean the only reason you might even take the slightest notice of me is because I look like Veneziano or something. I look like a total revengeful slut coming here and sleeping with my little brother's ex who I used to mmppff—"



Germany kissed him in the mouth to make his cute southern Italian shut up and stop thinking.



It was really effective.



Ludwig held Romano's face in both sides and made him look at his eyes. He wiped a tear using his thumb and kissed both of Romano's eyelids gently. Romano was just quiet and appeared to have calmed down.



They gaze at each other’s eyes.



"I don't regret that I am sleeping with you even if you are my ex's brother. That’s why you should not have any second thoughts either." Germany said, as he gave Romano's forehead a kiss.



“You said that Antonio doesn't care," Germany whispered against his lips and then gave him a quick kiss on the lips, "Why should you?"



He gave him another sweet kiss lingering longer this time.



"And I don't kiss you and hold you because you're Veneziano's brother or look like each other. I've just found out that you two are quite the polar opposites."



Ludwig licked the trail of wet tears glistening on Romano's cheek, the Italian not being able to utter a word.



"Veneziano and I are over. I want you. You seem to be the type that doesn’t take compliments easily. It seems you need to be constantly reminded. I can see that the long time you've spent with Antonio didn't cure you of your inferiority complex either. Maybe I need a different approach."



"Huh? What are you talking about? What approach?"



Ludwig kissed him deeply, making Romano's mind roam wayward again. It made him have this fluttering feeling in his stomach. What is this he's feeling? His heart was racing. Can his heart break and mend so fast?



"I will have to tell you directly—all of it so listen well.  I am not the direct type but with you, I might actually learn to be more direct and you ought to learn how to take compliments better."



Romano was blushing again. He didn't know what to say.



"I like you. You're troublesome but not as stupid as your brother. You are quite sentimental but nice. Veneziano would not put a blanket on me if we were sleeping. He would not care at all as long as he's warm. You're kindhearted too. Despite the arsenal of curses you fling at people, you can't even hate your brother who lied to you. You also care too much about what others think. That is good, but don't worry yourself too much. I have to admit, you are a better kisser that your brother. He is also more of a give away and you, you I have to work hard for which makes it better. And if there is one thing you have to start believing now, and that is you're cute. Really, really cute, now more so when I've seen you act all wild as you moan my name in ecstasy. When you pout and you blush, you look so sexy it drives me crazy and makes me want to do you up in the wall that instant. Romano, do you hear what I'm saying? You could nod if you don't want to talk."



The Southern Italian's eyes were so wide and shocked. He can hear his heart beating in his ears, his heart swelling from the warm feeling of being acknowledged. He heard all the things he ever wished to hear from someone. He was acknowledged and separated from the glory of his younger brother. And yet again, under the German's cool bluish gray eyes, he wants to save this moment in his memory.



Romano slowly nodded.



"I may not be able to give you a lot of tomatoes, but if you want, we can start planting some… in the backyard beside the potatoes. I know you like them and that is, that is only if you want to. And you're welcome to stay and sulk here whenever you feel like it. If for some reason you suddenly detoured someway and need a place to stay, you're welcome here."



Ludwig knows that he's the one who started this getting to express one's self more freely thing but it's getting hard. Before he said the last of his sentence, Romano can see Ludwig was blushing already and can't help but smile.



"Ludwig. I—I will call you Ludwig sometimes (at bed)... but, but I'll still call you a potato bastard just, just because!" Romano said in reply. Shit. He has to say something. He has to reply. He hates it that it's supposed to be his turn.



"Thank you for tonight, for everything you've said and done. It made me really happy and— and I thought you were kinda... cool. " Romano placed his hands over Ludwig's hands on each side of his face. "The sex... was good. You were bigger than I thought but gentle. Whenever I see your eyes, it reminds me of promises and new possibilities. I'm addicted to your hair. Please keep it down and messy. I like this loose side of your usual uptight attitude. I swear that the next time you annoy me, I would mess your hair up and let you do me up a wall."



"Really?" Ludwig said in surprise.



"You also said I'm a better kisser, right?" Romano pulled Ludwig down the bed and went over him. Now, they were in the opposite position. "As a thank you, let me kiss you down until you scream my name and tell me more of what you really feel... cause, I think you look cute too. "



¢ ¢ ¢



"Ah, MEIN GOTT! RO—ROMANO! YES!"