I was dared by the Virvelmaster to write a yaoi. I'd never written one before, nor will I write antother one. As I said, I've never writeen anything like this before, so it might not be too good. Don't hate me for it.

Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it's a writer who doesn't own Hetalia!

Unwelcome tears sprung up in Italy's hazel eyes as he bolted out of his nightmare. Said eyes were quickly squeezed shut, as to avoid seeing his dream having come true in his bedroom. In a situation like this; there were two options. The first option was staying in bed and hoping for the best. The second was to run to Germany for comfort.

"Germany!" he yelled, choosing the latter option, hurriedly running through the house, clutching his pillow for protection and some sense of comfort. There was a soft thud as Italy crashed into the closed door to Germany's room. "Who put a door here?" he complained, rubbing his head. A strange creaking sound, one of those sounds houses often do, caused him to jump, quickly wrestling the door open. "Are you awake, Germany?"

"I am now." Germany sighed gruffly after a short silence. "What do you want?"

Still crying, Italy tackled his friend with a hug. "I had a nightmare!" he adjusted himself so that he was sitting on Germany's lap. "You died in it; and it was awful! Please, promise you'll never leave me like that! Can I sleep in your bed, please?"

"Since you're already here, I suppose you can. But-" another hug interrupted him.

"Grazie Germania! Ti amo!" Italy kissed his forehead fondly, taking advantage of him being higher up than Germany at the moment.

"Ja ja, just get off me, will you? Und don't say things like that so easily."

Italy scrambled off him, snuggling into his pillow. "I'm happy, Germany. It's been since forever since we last slept together." he cheered, oblivious of the double meaning.

Germany, on the other hand, wasn't as dense. "Don't say that. We are not sleeping together." he scolded, ignoring the sudden images that appeared in his head.

"Si, we are. We're together, and sleeping. That means we're sleeping together, right?"

"Well, yes. But don't say that anyway. "

"Why not?"

"Because sleeping together also means… having sex with someone." There. He said it. So why did it make him feel so uneasy? Blame that date. Ever since that rather disastrous date, Germany had been feeling strange around his self-proclaimed BFF. It was strange, but in a good way.

As suspected, Italy's eyes widened in shock at this not-so-wanted piece of information. "Mi dispache! I didn't know! I'll never say it again, I promise!"

"It's fine. You couldn't know, could you? Just go to sleep now."

Quietly, almost too low to hear, Italy whispered; "Do you want to?

Germany choked on air and turned to stare at his ally. "You don't know what you're talking about, do you? Stop being so silly."

"Si, I do know. Big brother France told me when I was little. He tried to show me, but then I ran away. He looked really creepy, so I think it was a good idea." Italy suddenly grew serious. "But if it's you, I'm not scared."

When he was hugged once again, Germany's brain finally began working properly again. "Are you sure? It would hurt, you know."

"I don't mind. Germany doesn't hurt me unless it's something important." Italy shifted so he was face to face with Germany. "You love me, right?"

Germany gave in; leaning in to kiss Italy, ignoring what consequences might come from it. He stroked Italy's lip with the tip of his tongue, asking for permission to invade his mouth. Italy was happy to oblige, gasping softly with pleasure. When he pulled away, it wasn't long until he continued by assaulting Italy's neck, leaving small red marks on the skin.

Nimble fingers worked clumsily to undo Germany's shirt, trembling slightly, and not doing too well because of that. "Help me, Germany." he pleaded.

Pulling away just long enough to discard the shirt, Germany couldn't help but chuckle lightly before returning to Italy, for once happy about his strange habit of sleeping wearing only an opened shirt.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, practically abusing Italy's skin with small bites and kisses. "It's not something that can be undone once it's done."

"I'm sure. I want you, Germany." Tangling his hair in Germany's hair, Italy reached up to kiss him. By now he was breathing shakily, practically rubbing himself against Germany. "Please."

Silently nodding, Germany brought his fingers to Italy's mouth. Italy, recalling some of the things France had told him in the past, took them in, doing his best to coat them with saliva. When Germany decided that they were wet enough, he pulled them out with a small popping sound.

"You have to relax." he instructed Italy. "It's going to hurt otherwise." Using his other hand to pull at the curl, which's usage he'd gotten to know through a most unfortunate accident involving far too many of Italy's siblings, Germany carefully pushed one finger inside Italy, who whimpered at the odd feeling. Another tug to his curl made him moan instead, the stinging soon overpowered by the jolts of pleasure that came from his curl.

"I'm going to add a finger. Can you take it?"

"S-si. I think so." Despite saying he could handle it, Italy still gasped in pain when the second finger was added, assisting the first in stretching Italy's opening. "Ouch."

Germany pondered over what to do for a short while, and then took the curl in his mouth, earning a loud moan as his reward. He quickly added the third finger, adverting Italy's attention by running his tongue over the curl in his mouth. Suddenly, Italy bucked his hips, crying out as something was struck inside of him.

Deciding Italy was ready, Germany withdrew his fingers, causing Italy to whine in disappointment. That was soon changed, as Germany discarded his boxers and positioned himself by Italy's opening. "This is going to hurt. I'm sorry." Then he pushed.

Fresh tears sprang up in Italy's eyes, but the pain didn't stop him from wrapping his legs around Germany's waist. "It hurts!" he wailed.

"I know. I'm sorry. I'll stay like this for a while. Tell me when you're ready." Germany kept still, apart from softly kissing the tears away.

Italy nodded, biting his lip. After a while, he seemed to relax again. "You can move now."

So Germany did, thrusting deeper inside of Italy, the latter doing his best to keep up by rocking his hips to match Germany. Then, when that spot Germany had found earlier was hit, Italy all dug his nails into Germany's back, pulling him as close as physically possible.

Moving his hand down to stroke Italy's arousal, Germany kissed Italy again. Stroking at the same pace he was thrusting, Germany started moving faster, every blow making Italy moan and gasp.

"Aah! I'm going to burst!"

"Do it. Come for me." Germany whispered into his ear, licking at while doing so.

Italy tightened around him as he spilled over the both of them. Germany was soon to follow, releasing into the small Italian beneath him. When his orgasm had faltered, he pulled out, laying down next to Italy, with his arms still around him.

"Ich liebe dich Italien." Germany gave Italy one of his rare smiles.

"Ti amo troppo."

Japan was already regretting going into Germany's room to wake his allies up. He wasn't bothered by Italy sleeping in there, it was something he'd gotten used to by now. Nor was he bothered by Italy sleeping naked, not anymore. No, what disturbed him was the fact that Germany, too, was sleeping naked (or so it seemed,) an arm flung over the other.

"Silly me." Japan mentally slapped himself. "Germany-san wouldn't do something to hurt Italy-kun. I am sure it was just was warm in here. Besides; nudity is part of their culture."

Italy chose that moment to open his eyes and smile at Japan. "Hey, Japan. Do you think you could make some of your weird party-food? We have something to celebrate."

"Hai, of course. But I am curious. What are we celebrating?" Japan asked, hoping the answer wouldn't be what he thought it would be. He didn't have too big hopes, though; he was, after all, the one who invented yaoi.

"I'm not a virgin anymore!" Italy cheered, scrambling out of bed, limping slightly, to hug Japan.

Japan inwardly cursed Hungary, whom he now owed five bucks for being right. "That's great. But please, put some clothes on."

"Ve~! Can we make pasta too?"

Japan chuckled; Italy would always be Italy, no matter what happened.

Virvel, you better be happy now. If you're not, I will personally kill you in your sleep, 'kay?