Soft fingertips ran over the contours and dips of the muscles that ran across the fair skin, eyes heavy with sleep as he absentmindedly traced patterns into the other man's bicep. It was nice, the Germans skin. It was softer than you'd expect, a worn soft, more so than the feel of his own skin, but nonetheless it was beautiful. He had never said anything about it to Germany, he would probably only receive a blush, a cute one at that, Italy smiled to himself, and a remark taunt with embarrassment; all bark and no bite.
He usually got such a reaction when he admired his face. He was so handsome, and Germany didn't know it - that fact upset Italy to an extreme he could never express - and he just didn't think he was all that Italy thought he was. But oh, was he. Italy would never be able to tell him for how long he's wanted to touch him - not just more that he usually does, but to be so intimate with him, so close he can't breathe, his head spinning with the utmost desire.
He felt Germany's breathing change, Italy's slim hand shooting back from the strong build of his body as he just stared at Germany, the way his muscles rippled as he just moved in such a simple way. It stunned Italy.
"Wer… Italy?" And oh, that voice. It was so low and so erotic he couldn't help himself but to become entranced by the way it pulled him in and held him there. That was another thing he could never tell Germany. That it was his voice and his voice alone that could bend Italy in any way he pleased.
"Oh, Germany." Italy chuckled a bit to himself, eyes flicking to tired blue ones. The mussed hair fell into his eyes and Italy dared a hand to reach up and push some back, his pulse jumping as he felt Germany's do the same.
"W-were you awake this whole time?" Italy caught the question in a half-aware daze as he watched his hand rest almost hesitant on Germany's shoulder, lips barely moving.
"Y-yeah." He bit his lip as he realized Germany had caught him staring at him while he slept. Again. He looked up into that sea of blue and was caught off guard as Germany caught Italy's slim face between his hands and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
It was so unexpected, so sudden Italy felt light headed, strong arms catching him from falling completely off the bed. How did he get so close to the edge, anyway?
"I-Italy? I-I am sorry. I was too bold, I-" And Italy shifted towards him, pressing a slim finger to his lips and brushing Germany's legs with his.
"You don't know how long, Germany." And their lips met for a startling kiss, Italy so overwhelmed at just how soft his lips were, and how good of a kisser he was. Italy thought he might go insane if this was it; he brought his legs over Germany's strong waist, onto his hips and he felt a gasp against his lips, Germany pulling away and giving Italy a unsure stare.
"I-Italy, you oh-" He grunted slightly as Italy rolled his hips down, flashing a mischievous smile and bringing his lips to the German's jaw.
"Germany, please?" He whined, lips moving and hands playing with the hem of his boxers. "Please." And Germany groaned softly into his ear, Italy's entire body breaking out into goosebumps as he yanked down the boxers, those olive-skinned hands smoothing down Germany's hips. He wanted this, he wanted to hear Germany gasp and groan his name above him, and his breathing quickened as he barely touched his lips to the tip of Germany's swelling length.
"F-fuck." Germany choked out in surprise, his hands clutching the sheets on either side of him. He couldn't just grab onto Italy. He shouldn't control him.
And he didn't have to. Italy was leaving a slick trail up the underside and taking in Germany's half-hard cock, pleased by the sighs and soft, barely audible groans that left the German's lips. It was harder than Italy had first thought; Germany was, to put it bluntly, big. It was awkward for Italy to perform this task, but it was well worth everything when Germany weaved a hand into his hair and moaned out his name.
"I-Italy! D-don't ah-" He was a mess, and God, was it humiliating. He didn't want to tell Italy that he was almost already hard because of his mouth, didn't want to tell Italy he wouldn't last much longer after that. But a hard suck and a groan into the hard flesh sent Germany's vision spiraling, trying to bite back the absolutely embarrassing, telling noises that threatened to spill past his lips.
"Germany." Italy murmured, pulling off and amber eyes trailed to the thick string of saliva that connected his lips with the leaking tip of his cock. "Germany, please." He was begging for him, begging for Germany? Is this what he's always wanted?
He pulled Italy up for a surprisingly sweet kiss, Italy absolutely enamored with his eyes as he pressed soft kisses to the lashes and lids, the corners and dusting a tongue across the cheekbones. Germany surprised himself when he matched the Italian's hooded gaze and talked with a smooth voice that could put any Italian or Spaniard to shame. "You do not have to beg, my dear."
Italy's pulse jumped when he heard the sound of a drawer being yanked open and a cap being popped, eyes fluttering shut when long fingers spread his olive cheeks. Those same fingers pushed inside, Italy gasping and whimpering, rolling his hips and squeezing around the single finger inside him. 'I most likely looks like a bitch in heat.' Italy let the thought pass through his mind as a second finger was thrust inside and the rough tip grazed that spot inside him, an absolutely atrocious noise leaving his lips.
"Germany… Please, I-it's alright already…" Italy panted and rolled his hips harder to punctuate his point, whining as the fingers withdrew from his body, leaving him with an empty feeling; he was so close. He was so close to him; to Germany. The man he's wanted for so long, he could feel his skin, his jaw, his beautiful, rough hands-
And he felt Germany's member bump against him and he sucked in a breath as he felt a large hand come up and caress his cheek.
"Are you alright?" He simply asked, worry shining brightly in those dazzling blue eyes that never ceased to take Italy's breath right out of his lungs, and Italy nodded.
"Please, Germany. I've wanted you and only you. Please-" Italy grabbed Germany's face in both his hands, letting himself be seated onto Germany's hips. It was tight, the stretch burning and all the words were just stains on his lips as he adjusted. Those blue eyes were still waiting for him as he looked up, a heaving, shaking mess, and he let those words leave his lips. "Make love to me, Germany."
And that was his - their undoing - the pleasure riding high and Italy's head absolutely spinning with the romantic high buzzing throughout his veins. And him; he was so gorgeous in the dim light, his eyes the darkest of blues he had ever seen, lids hooded and mouth parted as he grunted and groaned in that erotic voice that made Italy positively mad with want. And then he hit it; he groaned so loud he feared the neighbors would hear, but part of him didn't care. He was here, here with the one he loved so much, craved so much; and those aquatic blue eyes on him and only him as he came, back arched and Germany's human name hissed through his teeth. Germany was not far behind as he moaned out "Felichen!" and fell back to the bed as Italy fell to his chest. They smiled at each other, the words finally leaving his lips as he kissed the Germans jaw.
"I love you so much, Germania."
And that night with the curtains shut and the lights dimmed, the porcelain skin and aqua eyes mixed with the tanned expanse and honey orbs; the words that left their lips were the same no matter the language.
"I love you."
