Author Notes: I've been trying to avoid Hetalia ever since i began watching anime a few years ago. I've tried (and failed) to watch it several times and I've just never understood the appeal until recently i actually sat down and watched the anime. Now i love it and it's taken over my life. Here's a fan fiction for my Hetalia OTP. I'm not completely sold on writing a second chapter so this story will be put under complete until i decide whether or not to write the second one.

Warning: Dirty German, France is an asshole, sexually frustrated Germany, Italy being Italy, Kissing, If i decide to write another chapter THERE WILL BE GAY SNU SNU, (YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!), Fran

Characters Involved: Italy and Germany (mentions of France)

Disclaimer: this colorful cast of characters does not belong to me in any way shape or form.

Germany sighed, tapping his pen against his desk. It had been exactly four hours, fifteen minutes and twenty seconds since Italy had last came barreling into the room screaming about Britain or shoelaces or pasta (he'd stopped listening after their fourth conversation about which pasta sauces taste best with which meats).

He was actually getting kind of concerned. He usually wanted to kill the energetic man but now that he hadn't shown up in a while, he missed the pasta loving lunatic. Germany coughed, trying to keep the blush he knew was creeping over his skin off of his cheeks.

He did not have a crush or anything. Just a deep connection with the Italian that sometimes balanced on the tight rope between friendship and something more. But it definitely wasn't a crush. Germany didn't get crushes.

As if on cue, a high Italian voice came rushing down the hall. "Germany! Germany!"

He looked up, slightly irritated by the noise and his own musings. "Ja, vhat do you vant?" he asked.

"France taught me a phrase in German!" He said proudly.

Germany looked up from his paperwork, the butterflies in his stomach disappearing completely. "Really, vhat is it?"

Italy scratched his head for a second before a wide smile branched out over his face. "Ich will dich ficken."

Germany dropped his pen, a crimson red creeping over his cheeks. I'm going to take over France and force him to eat Britain's cooking forever. "Um," he didn't know how to break it to the poor nation. "Good Italy. But-"

Italy cocked his head. "Did i say something wrong?"

"Nein, you just-" Germany sighed leaning his head into his hands. "Do you know vhat you just said."

"No! France told me to ask you what it means." He frowned suddenly. "by the way, what does it mean?"

"Uh," Might as vell spit it out. "You asked me to bed you."

Italy seemed to be in deep thought for a moment. Hopefully he von't hurt himself. Germany thought.

"Well, that makes sense. Big Brother is so smart."

"VHAT?!" Germany covered his mouth trying to silence himself.

Italy blushed a bit. "I was telling Big Brother how much i cared about you and he said to tell you that."

Germany sighed, rubbing his temples. "It doesn't mean the same thing Italy."

He stepped closer standing next to Germany's desk. "Yes it does. Ich will dich ficken Germany." Italy mumbled settling into Germany's lap.

Germany was absolutely petrified. Was this really happening? He had to be dreaming. Italy was in his lap mumbling dirty German in his ear. He must have eaten some bad liverwurst. yes that had to be it.

"Germany?" Italy scooted closer to him wrapping his arms around the stronger man's neck. Germany suddenly felt it. Italy was hard...And so was he. Vell schiessen.

Italy moved slowly over the large member throbbing beneath him. "Germany." He moaned softly. Germany lifted the smaller man off of him.

"St-Stop." He said. He tried to leave the room but Italy was persistent. He turned him around smashing their lips together. Germany struggled to remain on his feet. His lips were so soft. Softer than he'd dreamed (not that he had dreams about Italy, that would be weird right...right?). Italy looked up at the blonde man in front of him before jumping into his arms. Germany caught him with both hands leaving him completely defenseless to Italy's attacks. He nipped and sucked harshly down Germany's throat settling on his collarbone to nibble the sensitive skin. Wrapping his arms around Germany's neck again, he pressed their lips together this time a bit gentler than the last.

"Germany." He said between kisses.

it took everything in him for Germany to pull away again. "Italy, please." Germany begged. He needed to maintain his composure. If he snapped, he didn't know what he was capable of.

Italy looked down fingering the buttons of Germany's uniform. "I learned another phrase." He said quietly, unable to meet Germany's eye.

Germany was curious. Damn it all. "Vhat?"

"Ich liebe dich."

Germany stared at the eccentric man in his arms. "Do you know vhat that means?"

Italy nodded, his hands fingering the button again until it popped open showing more of Germany's undershirt.

"Say it again."

Italy looked up at him. The intensity in his blue eyes sent a shiver down his spine. He opened his mouth to say it again but Germany covered it.

"Don't say it if you don't mean it." Germany mumbled.

He understood and Germany pulled his hand away. "Ich liebe dich" he repeated.

That did it. Germany pressed them against the nearest wall and pulled Italy into a rough kiss. He liked the feeling of Italy against him. The more delicate nation moaning and mewling as he touched him. He licked Italy's lips asking for entry and he complied. Their tongues battled for dominance before Italy gave in letting Germany explore as much as he wanted. When air finally became unavoidable, Germany pulled away panting into Italy's skin. Italy said something he didn't quite catch.

"Vhat?" he asked.

Italy repeated. "Bed, please."

Germany nodded pulling open the door from his office to the staircase leading up to his bedroom. Holding onto him firmly, Germany carried him upstairs.

Well that was fun to write! i hope you enjoyed it. Thank you for reading.
Cheers!

TaxiCabtoNowhereland