Sick Day

Today was not unlike any other day; at 6:30 AM Germany's alarm went off for morning training. However this morning something was wrong. Even after having his usual 7 hours of sleep Germany felt exhausted.

"Oh don't tell me... I'm sick," Germany grumbled, perhaps training in the rain last night was a bit too much. Having to deal with interruptions from Italy all day he was intent on training even if it meant facing the elements.

"Vell I can't do anything but rest I suppose," Germany mumbled. He rolled back into bed and bumped into something solid. The solid mass moved and mumbled something about Italian cuisine.

"Italy? Are you awake? I have a favor to ask of you," Germany said, coughing into fist. Italy groaned and crawling slowly out of the covers, his hair all askew. He looked up lazily at Germany.

"Oh, good morning Germany how are you," Italy asked sleepily. Germany moaned as his body was overtaken by chills. "You don't look so good? Are you sick ve?" Italy asked.

"Nien I feel just peachy," Germany said sarcastically. He clutched his stomach and curled into a ball.

"Oh good! I'll just go back to sleep then," Italy said cheerfully, cuddling into Germany. Germany's sick was cold and clammy which made everything click.

"No you are sick! My poor Germany!" Italy cried, he clung tightly to Germany's torso.

"Italy... Please... Not so tight," Germany groaned. Italy instantly backed off, tears forming in his eyes.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to hurt you. Please don't be angry at me," Italy whimpered. Germany sighed, and took hold of Italy's hand.

"Feli it's alright. I was hoping you could make me some soup, my throat is sore," Germany said. Italy's face brightened as soon as he knew Germany wasn't upset.

"Of course Germany, I'll make the most delicious soup you've ever had!" Italy said with determination. He jumped out of bed and rushed to start Germany's dish.

"Hmmm I suppose he is good for some things," Germany said, a small smile forming on his lips. Starting a few months ago Germany had revealed his feelings towards Italy which had scared him at first but then finally grew into the idea. However, things between them weren't much different than before. Italy still slept in bed with Germany, Germany still tried to get Italy to train but failed most of the time, and Italy was still annoying. Most importantly the two had still yet to have their first kiss.

Time and again Germany had tried to find the right moment but every time he lost the courage to do it. He had read every romance book he could find, and knew every perfect place to do so but he has yet to make it work. Germany knew he had to be the one to make the first step because Italy still took their relationship to be some sort of game.

It made Germany frown, the man he loved so much had yet to truly understand how he felt. The way that Italy's quirky attitude could annoy him to no end but make him endlessly happy at the same time. Italy was the first and only real friend Germany had, and the only person he cared about. No matter how many times Italy needed help Germany was there; he had actually started to enjoy tying Italy's shoes.

But, he still had to find a way to get himself across to Italy; that he wasn't interested in high school romance, but a committed relationship. He wanted to be with Italy forever. In order to do this Germany had to kiss Italy.

"Germany I have your soup," Italy sang. He came running into the room with a bowl of soup, small drops spilling around the edges. He presented it happily to Germany.

"Thank you Italy, "Germany said. He took the bowl, but his arms were still weak and shaky almost causing him to drop it.

"Let me help you," Italy offered. He filled a spoon with spoon and brought it to Germany's lips. "Open wide ve". Germany blushed, there had been numerous scenes like this his books. And so Italy fed Germany his soup, successfully not spilling any of it.

"Italy, I vant to talk to you for a bit, would you sit over here," Germany said, motioning to the other side of the bed. Italy crawled in beside Germany and snuggled in next to him.

"Ve ve what is it Germany? Did you want a bed time story? I know a good one about pasta and-" Italy started to rant but Germany put up a hand to interrupt him.

"Nien Italy I... I wanted to talk about us... well... I mean," Germany started. He wanted to make Italy see his true love but his shyness and sickness was making him dizzy.

"Germany ve! Are you okay? Are you going to get sick?" Italy questioned in a frenzy. He was close and in Germany's face making the sick man heat up even more. It wasn't romantic and it wasn't in any of his books but at this moment; this moment of chaos, heat and exhaustion Germany's lips found their way to Italy's. Suddenly everything was still.

"Ve..." mumbled Italy. Germany realized that at some point he had closed his eyes, so after slowly opening them he found a wide eyed and blushing Italy lying beside him.

"Are you alright Feli?" Germany asked in concern. Italy nodded his head and a silly shy grin played across his face.

"I suppose you must think I'm so useless... It took me this long to realize how you actually felt," Italy said sheepishly. Germany smiled and took one of Italy's cheeks in his hand.

"Ich liebe dich Italy... And I always will," Germany said, he was nervous for what was about to happen. What if Italy didn't feel the same way, what if they broke up now, what if...

" Ti amo Germany. I'm sorry it took this little pasta head so long," Italy laughed. Italy then embraced Germany and once more their lips met. Only this time it was filled with equal passion from both countries. Germany wanted to cry, finally in the oddest and least predictable settings did they get their first kiss.