"Germany?" Italy peeked over at the big, strong, blonde country.
"Hmm?" he grunted drowsily.
The sounds of the night were just outside, leaking in through the paper thin walls of their tent. Strange birds cawed, crickets chirped, and leaves rustled in the wind.
"It's cold up here, and I can't sleep," he complained.
Germany said nothing. He allowed the still silence to disturb Italy.
"Please, Germany!" he cried. "I had a bad dream, and it's scaring me, now."
"Vell, I suppose you could zleep here in my bunk if you inzist, since you must." He sounded slightly agitated.
The small body landed on top of him. "Thank you! Thank you, Germany! Thank you so much!" he declared happily, wrapping his arms around the country's neck to give him a squeeze. Germany only sighed, turning his head to the side to look away from him.
While Italy held on to him like a pillow, he tried to make himself fall asleep, but couldn't. Italy had always made him this way. The little cute country he wouldn't admit- at least not to anyone other than himself- he felt feelings for, would always cuddle up next him, leaving him in a state of semi-arousal. With another sigh, he allowed his arms to go around the nation's waist.
"Ve~" Italy made a happy noise, bringing a blush to the German's cheeks.
'Damn zat Italy,' he thought.
"Hey Germany?" Italy started again.
"Vat?" he snapped.
"Can we play football again, tomorrow?" he asked.
"I don't zee vye not," the blond replied.
"Yay!" Italy exclaimed. "Can I sleep with you every night?"
"Vat-" Germany nearly choked. "No!"
"But why not, Germany?" Italy whined. He shifted to look up at his friend.
"Becauze you have your own bed, and you can pull up your own boxers," he grumbled in response.
"But I don't wear boxers, Germany," Italy corrected.
"Okay, vatever ze hell kind of Italian underpants you wear. Vat I mean to say iz, you can do thiz on your own!" Germany growled.
"Oh," his friend sighed. "Hey Germany, what's a concentration camp?"
"Just shut ze hell up, vill you?" Germany demanded.
"Oh, okay,"Italy responded. The silence lasted no longer than a few seconds. "Germany..." he began nervously.
"Vat iz it, Italy?" the German forcefully calmed himself.
"Hmm... Nothing," he backed off.
Germany looked at him curiously. Normally, his friend wouldn't shy away from something he had to say, but this must have been a different circumstance. He reached up to stroke the Italian's hair. Italy snuggled into him.
"Germany..."
"Vat?"
Italy was on top
of him, facing him, peering down at him intently. His big brown eyes caught Germany in a trance for a moment. Finally, he knelt down and kissed him full on the mouth, causing the German to grunt. He looked startled, but quickly went along, kissing Italy back as if a dam had broken down. He sat up straight, still holding his friend to him desperately. Italy reached for him, and cupped a hand around his strong face.
"I love you, Germany, ve~" he sighed.
Germany felt something stir in his chest. "Italy, I-" He couldn't make himself admit it. "You know..."
"You love me, too?" Italy asked.
Germany turned his head to the side so he wouldn't have to look at Italy. "Yeah."
"Yee!" Italy exclaimed, and squeezed him even tighter.
"Italy, we're soldiers now, so will you please get off me?" the German begged harshly.
"But you just kissed me, Germany," the Italian whined.
"I know," the German spat, and the churning feeling in his chest intensified. "But ve vill have to return to our duties zoon."
"But Germany, you will still kiss me, right?" his accomplice pleaded. His hands interlocked with Germany's in a heart-wrenching moment, making the blond blush.
"I hope so," he admitted with embarrassment.
On an impulse, Italy rose to his knees, and pressed his lips to Germany's again, causing his heart to skip a bit. The German's hands went to his back, gripping his shirt in two tight fists.
"Oh... Italy..." he moaned, and buried his face into his chest.
"Is something wrong, Germany?" the Italian asked.
"Life sure iz like hell ven you've got a crazy boss," Germany explained.
"It will all be alright. I know it will," Italy soothed.
"I hope ze war is over fast," his friend replied.
"Then will we be together?" Italy asked.
Germany propped his chin on the Italian's chest and gazed up at him. "Ve vill alvays be togetzer," he answered with a smile.
"Hmm?" he grunted drowsily.
The sounds of the night were just outside, leaking in through the paper thin walls of their tent. Strange birds cawed, crickets chirped, and leaves rustled in the wind.
"It's cold up here, and I can't sleep," he complained.
Germany said nothing. He allowed the still silence to disturb Italy.
"Please, Germany!" he cried. "I had a bad dream, and it's scaring me, now."
"Vell, I suppose you could zleep here in my bunk if you inzist, since you must." He sounded slightly agitated.
The small body landed on top of him. "Thank you! Thank you, Germany! Thank you so much!" he declared happily, wrapping his arms around the country's neck to give him a squeeze. Germany only sighed, turning his head to the side to look away from him.
While Italy held on to him like a pillow, he tried to make himself fall asleep, but couldn't. Italy had always made him this way. The little cute country he wouldn't admit- at least not to anyone other than himself- he felt feelings for, would always cuddle up next him, leaving him in a state of semi-arousal. With another sigh, he allowed his arms to go around the nation's waist.
"Ve~" Italy made a happy noise, bringing a blush to the German's cheeks.
'Damn zat Italy,' he thought.
"Hey Germany?" Italy started again.
"Vat?" he snapped.
"Can we play football again, tomorrow?" he asked.
"I don't zee vye not," the blond replied.
"Yay!" Italy exclaimed. "Can I sleep with you every night?"
"Vat-" Germany nearly choked. "No!"
"But why not, Germany?" Italy whined. He shifted to look up at his friend.
"Becauze you have your own bed, and you can pull up your own boxers," he grumbled in response.
"But I don't wear boxers, Germany," Italy corrected.
"Okay, vatever ze hell kind of Italian underpants you wear. Vat I mean to say iz, you can do thiz on your own!" Germany growled.
"Oh," his friend sighed. "Hey Germany, what's a concentration camp?"
"Just shut ze hell up, vill you?" Germany demanded.
"Oh, okay,"Italy responded. The silence lasted no longer than a few seconds. "Germany..." he began nervously.
"Vat iz it, Italy?" the German forcefully calmed himself.
"Hmm... Nothing," he backed off.
Germany looked at him curiously. Normally, his friend wouldn't shy away from something he had to say, but this must have been a different circumstance. He reached up to stroke the Italian's hair. Italy snuggled into him.
"Germany..."
"Vat?"
Italy was on top
of him, facing him, peering down at him intently. His big brown eyes caught Germany in a trance for a moment. Finally, he knelt down and kissed him full on the mouth, causing the German to grunt. He looked startled, but quickly went along, kissing Italy back as if a dam had broken down. He sat up straight, still holding his friend to him desperately. Italy reached for him, and cupped a hand around his strong face.
"I love you, Germany, ve~" he sighed.
Germany felt something stir in his chest. "Italy, I-" He couldn't make himself admit it. "You know..."
"You love me, too?" Italy asked.
Germany turned his head to the side so he wouldn't have to look at Italy. "Yeah."
"Yee!" Italy exclaimed, and squeezed him even tighter.
"Italy, we're soldiers now, so will you please get off me?" the German begged harshly.
"But you just kissed me, Germany," the Italian whined.
"I know," the German spat, and the churning feeling in his chest intensified. "But ve vill have to return to our duties zoon."
"But Germany, you will still kiss me, right?" his accomplice pleaded. His hands interlocked with Germany's in a heart-wrenching moment, making the blond blush.
"I hope so," he admitted with embarrassment.
On an impulse, Italy rose to his knees, and pressed his lips to Germany's again, causing his heart to skip a bit. The German's hands went to his back, gripping his shirt in two tight fists.
"Oh... Italy..." he moaned, and buried his face into his chest.
"Is something wrong, Germany?" the Italian asked.
"Life sure iz like hell ven you've got a crazy boss," Germany explained.
"It will all be alright. I know it will," Italy soothed.
"I hope ze war is over fast," his friend replied.
"Then will we be together?" Italy asked.
Germany propped his chin on the Italian's chest and gazed up at him. "Ve vill alvays be togetzer," he answered with a smile.
