Comfort

Italy lays his head on the desk in front of him. It had been three weeks since Germany had left him for Russia; it hurt him every time he saw the two of them together. When he couldn't take it anymore, he did what he did best: he ran. Italy ran from the Axis Powers and tried to join up with the Allies, but so far things weren't going as smoothly as he had hoped. No one there really seemed to like him, especially England. The Italian closed his eyes with a sigh. Why, Ludwig? He wasn't even sure he blamed the tall German man for leaving him for another, he wasn't anything special. He jumped slightly at the sound of a door being thrown open, with a loud boisterous voice coming with it.

"Don't worry, Britain. We got this." The door closed behind the American as he entered the room.

Alfred's shining blue eyes fall on Italy and his cocky smile wavers. "Hey. Are you okay?"

Italy hastily wipes at his eyes and stands, having not even noticed the tears that had been falling. "I'm just fine. I—I was just leaving."

America watches the Italian, and then moves to block his path. "Come on, you can tell me."

Italy opens his mouth, tries to speak, and breaks into sobs. "I—I'm just so pathetic." He drops his face to look at the floor. "You probably think I'm weak and annoying too, si?"

The American makes a small noise and reaches out, placing his hands on Italy's shoulders. "No, of course not!" Alfred pulls Feliciano into his arms, not sure how to get the Italian to stop crying. "Hey, come on. Quit that?"

Italy gasps as he's pulled against America's chest. "But I—Germany—" The Italian breaks off his cluttered speech.

Alfred had lowered his face close to Feliciano's, blue eyes gazing kindly into brown. His voice is barely a whisper. "Shh. No more sadness." His lips graze the Italian's gently, his hand coming to cup the others cheek.

Feliciano squeaks softly, hesitantly returning the blonde's kiss. He gasps as Alfred suddenly deepens the kiss, tongue racing across and slipping between Italy's parted lips. Mouths pressed against each other, the two slowly drag the kiss out.

Alfred pulls back, breathless. "See, Feliciano? I like you, no matter what Germany thinks." He tugs at Italy's hand, leading him into the living room. "Come here. Let me show you."

Italy, light blush riding along his cheekbones, follows the American, stumbling with a mixture of nerves and a sense of numbness. America sits the Italian tenderly onto the couch, hands stroking and smoothing across his auburn hair reassuringly. "Feliciano…" Alfred lowers himself on top of the Italian, a tightness building in his chest. Italy's blush deepens, "But, Alfred. Why?"

America's lips skim along the Italian's neck, coming up to nip his earlobe, initiating a gasp from him. "As I said, I like you." His tongue flicks out, running along the edge of the Italian's earlobe. "I really like you."

Feliciano moans, moving under Alfred prettily. A purring issues from the American and he presses himself against the Italian, feeling himself stiffen. Italy gasps, desperately seeking the American's lips. Alfred pulls back, smiling. "What is it, Feli? Want something?"

Feliciano whimpers, nodding. "You. I want you, Alfred." His mind made up, he wanted, no, needed the bright American to help him forget.

The American smirks, reaching down to lift the hem of Feliciano's shirt, his hand sliding across bare skin teasingly. "Oh really?"

"Uh-huh." Italy's lips finally meet Alfred's, passionately meshing, their tongues intertwining.

Feliciano gasps as Alfred suddenly shifts, causing his hardness to move across his thigh; the Italian turns his face away, suddenly embarrassed to have Alfred see him enjoy it. Alfred takes hold of Italy's chin and turns his gaze back. "No, I want to see the pleasure fill your gaze." He murmurs like he was watching those thoughts race through the Italian's mind, the comment sliding across his ears sensually, putting him at ease.

Feliciano shivers slowly, feeling himself relax. Alfred jerks his hips forward, his other hand lifting up the Italian's shirt to his shoulders, letting his mouth fall upon tan flesh. Feliciano moans, arching up to meet the American's assault. The blonde's mouth gently played with the skin it touched, sending tingles throughout his body. Alfred lifts up, removing Italy's shirt and tossing it across the room. He then resumes his course, rubbing up against Feliciano's own arousal.

Breathlessly, the Italian begs, "Don't tease me, Alfred. Please." He needed it badly, his mind hazy with heat.

Alfred chuckles lightheartedly. "Who said I was teasing?" He removes his own shirt, taking Italy's hands and guiding them to his pants. "Take them off."

Feliciano, blushing, shakily unbuttons the American's jeans and tries to slip them off, growling in frustration and running his nails down Alfred's hips when he can't.

Alfred lets out a half-moan, half-whimper, his hand finding its way to the little hot Mediterranean man's hair. Italy, more desperate now, forces the American's pants down his hips and watches as Alfred removes them fully.

America smirks. "Like what you see?"

Feliciano looks away bashfully, face growing hot. The American lets out a sigh, stroking Italy's cheek. "Why so shy? This is nothing new to you, is it?" his words are soft.

The Italian stammers. "It—it's new with you," his heart is racing with adrenaline.

Alfred lowers his lips to Feliciano's comfortingly. "I won't hurt you. I promise."

The American's hands travel down Italy's body, fingers caressing his skin. As he reaches the clasp of the Italian's pants, he unconsciously quickened to undo them. He slides Feliciano's pants down, with the help of the small man and lets them fall to the floor. Alfred trails kisses along Feliciano's stomach and back up to his lips. Both men gasp as their erections rub together now free of all cloth and confinement.

"Do you really want to, Feli?" Alfred nibbles along the Italian's jaw.

"Y—yes." Feliciano's hands run up Alfred's back, causing the blonde to shiver with pleasure.

Alfred sits up and looks around. "Umm… Hold on, I'll be right back."

Feliciano sits up in alarm. "Wait! Where are you going?"

Alfred, blushing, replies. "Well, I think we'll be needing some lube."

Italy sinks to his knees in front of the American. "Please, don't leave."

"But Feliciano, I—" Alfred cuts off with a moan as Feliciano's mouth closes around his shaft.

His moans become louder as the Italian begins to bob his head, lightly scraping the under side with his teeth and sucking. Feliciano's tongue slicks across Alfred's shaft, up the length of it, and around the slit of the head. Alfred lets out a moan, hands tightening on the Italian's shoulders. Feliciano suddenly deep throats Alfred, and the tightness of it causes the American to cum. Italy pulls back, letting the seed drip down the blonde's shaft.

"F—Feli?" Alfred's eyes are dark with lust.

Feliciano smiles, a little more confident. "There. Lube."

Alfred chuckles hoarsely and helps the Italian to his feet, then forces him down onto the couch again. Feliciano trembles with want, panting heavily he brings his knees up to his chest. America, smiling, gets on his knees in front of the Italian, spreading the brown-eyed man's legs apart. Feliciano inhales sharply and looks away as Alfred moves in. He whines uncomfortably as he feels the American's fingers loosening him, first with one then two, stretching him to be able to take Alfred's girth. When Alfred entered a third finger the small Italian forced his muscles to relax, it had been a long time since he had done this. He jumped a little when he felt Alfred's lips on his lower stomach. He watched the silly blond tenderly kiss the area below his bellybutton. Feliciano felt his insides melt sweetly and he felt completely comfortable again. Feeling Feliciano relax finally, and the muscles of the little Italian loosen, Alfred slipped his fingers out.

"Are you ready, my Feli?" Alfred watches him, blue eyes sparkling waiting for the go ahead.

"Sí, I am."

He lines himself up and enters the Italian, gently massaging his hips. Feliciano cries out, trying to keep himself from tensing. He mouths for Alfred to continue and bites his lip. With his muscles taking in the bigger man's length slowly, it felt like being stretched like he'd never been before. All the Little Mediterranean's previous lovers had never compared to this. The experience was painful and fulfilling at the same time.

Alfred begins rocking his hips, pushing himself in deeper with every thrust. His breathing becomes ragged as they both develop a light sheen of sweat. Italy cries out as Alfred brings his ankles up to his shoulders, causing him to thrust deep enough to hit Feliciano's prostate each time. The Italian begins bucking uncontrollably, breaking as he screams America's name. The American was purring out his adoration to Feliciano as he continued his pace stroking every sensitive nerve in the Italian's body, sending sparks flying everywhere. Feliciano's body gripped him tight and pulled and pushed in all the right areas causing the American's control to slip faster with each thrust.

"Just a little more Feli, come on." The American stroked the others shaft with long and slowly devilishly pleasurable strokes. Feliciano was so close when Alfred quickened his pace two fold. With a sensual mewl of pleasure followed by a hot open mouthed kiss the Little Italian shot to completion. With a final thrust inside the quivering body, Alfred cums as well. He pulls out and situates them comfortably, with Alfred nuzzling into Feli's shoulder.

The two lay there, pleased. Alfred strokes Feliciano's hair from his eyes, smiling. Italy sighs, eyes closed and body relaxed. After awhile, America breaks the silence.

"So, do you believe me now?"

Feliciano opens his sleep-heavy eyes, focusing a quizzical look on the American. "Huh?"

Alfred rolls his eyes, mock-glaring at the Italian. "That I like you." He pulls Feliciano close. "I do, you know? Things may be tough right now, but you'll get through it."

Italy, eyes filled with innocence and hope, responds. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Now, no more talking unless it's about how awesome I am. Just relax." Alfred kisses Feliciano's forehead as he closes his eyes sleepily, the Italian giggles lightly holding close to him.