*A/N This was supposed to be a drabble, but it kind of got away from me. I don't really know what happened, lol. Anyway, this is just a late Christmas fic that I've been thinking about for a few days. I hope you enjoy!*

"Germany! Germany! Wake up! It's Christmas!" Italy bounced up and down on top of Germany. He knew he wasn't supposed to wake him up before five, but he was too excited. Germany groaned and turned in the other direction, trying to ignore the energetic Italian. How could someone have this much energy at, Germany peeked at the clock when Italy wasn't looking, four fifteen in the morning? Usually, Italy was the last one awake, and was extremely sluggish until he had his morning pasta.

Today was the only exception. Germany had spent five other Christmas' with him since they got together, and his behavior was the same every time, although wake up times varied. Christmas was like opposite day for Italy; he woke up early, was filled with energy and even wore Christmas pajamas. However, the pasta situation stayed the same; nothing could change that.

Italy continued jumping up and down, unable to contain his excitement. He tugged on Germany's arm, trying to get him out of bed.

"Come on Germany! Please get up! We have to open presents! I got you some cool stuff that I want you to open!" Italy beamed when Germany sighed and sat up. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and pushed the blanket off of him.

"Yay!" Italy squealed in delight, still bouncing around the room. "Come on. Come on. Come on!" Italy dragged Germany around their room, trying to get him to move faster. For some reason, Christmas morning made Italy fifty times stronger as well. Germany wrenched his arm out of Italy's grasp, smoothing out his shirt.

"I'm coming. Just wait for me downstairs. I'm going to take a quick shower and get dressed." Italy pouted. He didn't want to wait.

"Can't you just take a shower later? It's present time!" He crossed his arms, trying to look annoyed. Germany chuckled, leaning down and kissing Italy on the cheek.

"No, even though today is Christmas, it's no exception for personal hygiene. I'll be down in twenty minutes. Go eat your pasta, if you haven't already."

Of course, Italy had already eaten about ten bowls of pasta within the last two hours, but the prospect of more delicious noodles made his stomach grumble.

"Yay! Pasta!" He yelled happily, twirling around. He turned back to face Germany with a playful smile on his face. "You better be quick. If I eat five bowls and you're still not downstairs, I'm pulling you out of the shower, even if you have soap in your hair!" Italy pulled Germany into a quick hug, nuzzling his face into his boyfriend's rock-hard chest. Germany stroked his hair, and then shooed him away so he could get into the shower. Italy gave one last smile and skipped out of the room, singing Christmas carols.

Germany shook his head. That man; he was a mystery, a wonderful mystery. Germany grabbed his clothes and headed into the bathroom. He had to plan this carefully. He was glad Italy wasn't here to distract him, although this plan had something to do with him. Germany turned on the shower, still pondering. He could do it after they opened everything. He could do it when he got out of the shower. He could do it…tomorrow? No, he would do it today.

He was starting to get nervous. Could he really do this? What would Italy say? Would he be just as excited as he was for presents? Germany spent the next few minutes trying to decide on the best course of action. After throwing dozens of ideas around, he finally decided to do it after presents. Yes, that would work.

He kept himself busy for the next ten minutes trying on different outfits. The one he brought with him didn't seem right anymore. Once he had tried just about every piece of clothing he owned, he knew he couldn't stall anymore. Throwing on the first outfit, Germany took a deep breath, shoving something in his pocket and walking out the door.

.oOo.

Italy sat on the couch, pouting. Germany was taking a long time, and he promised he would hurry. It was Christmas for goodness sake! Couldn't he go just a little bit faster. Italy huffed, crossing his arms in annoyance. He wasn't really annoyed, he just wanted to watch Germany open his presents; and of course, open his own. He'd already eaten four bowls of pasta and was stalling on the last one. He wanted to see how long Germany would actually take if he didn't drag him out of the shower.

Italy was only waiting for another minute. He heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and he started jittering with excitement. His fifth bowl of pasta was bouncing dangerously on his thighs. When Germany emerged from the hallway, Italy stared at him, his mouth hanging open. He looked…really nice. He was wearing a black suit that was tailored to fit him perfectly, and his hair was perfectly in place as always. Italy had only seen him wear this suit one other time. That was on Valentine's Day about six years ago, when Germany took him to that nice restaurant. That place had some interesting staff.

Italy forced himself to unhinge his jaw from the floor. "Umm, you look really nice." He murmured, looking at the ground. "But why are you so dressed up?"

"Uhh, it's Christmas, right? I know you like to go to church today, so I thought I could dress up for the occasion." Germany looked nervous. His heart was racing, and he couldn't look Italy in the eye, not that the Italian was doing any better.

Italy was still a bit confused. "Church isn't until later, so why did you have to dress up now?" Italy asked, finally making eye contact with his lover.

"Umm, I just wanted to." He replied simply. Germany walked over to Italy and took the pasta out of his lap, grabbing his hand. "Come on. Didn't you say it was present time?"

Italy brightened immediately, beaming at Germany in delight. "Yay! Presents!" He ran over to the Christmas tree and spread all the gifts on the floor. He pushed half of the pile over to Germany, who was now sitting on the couch behind Italy. Said man was quivering with excitement. His hands were twitching at the sight of all the gifts. Germany smiled at him. He's an odd one, but Germany wouldn't have him any other way.

Italy looked at him over his shoulder, asking for permission. Germany nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his lover's head. Italy grabbed a lumpy package that was messily wrapped with navy blue paper.

"This one's from Prussia." Of course it was. That was his handiwork all right. Germany sighed, wondering what his brother could have gotten the Italian. Italy ripped the paper off in a split second. Then he gasped. "It's a new apron! Yay! I needed one of these!" Germany let out a relieved sigh. At least it wasn't something weird. He couldn't deal with a repeat of last year. Prussia sent Italy a tiny beige snake because he thought it looked like spaghetti. Needless to say, Italy did not find it funny. It took Germany a good hour and a half to coax Italy out of the closet, where he was hidden under piles of clothes. He wondered what Prussia did with the snake when Germany forced him to take it back, because he never saw it again.

He snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a delighted squeal come from the little Italian, who was now waving his gift in Germany's face. "Look what Romano got me!" Italy began to gush in rapid Italian, not realizing that Germany couldn't understand a word he was saying. Germany grabbed his arm in an attempt to calm him.

"Slow down. I can't even see what's in your hand." Italy shoved it in his face.

"Look Germany! It's a white flag with my name stitched into it. See? Italy Veneziano. Romano made it for me. Isn't that sweet?" He pointed to the flag. Germany rubbed his temples. That definitely fit his personality. While he was thinking, Italy tore open the rest of the presents in his pile. Germany did a double take. How could he have opened them that fast? He shook his head. It wasn't worth the brainpower; Italy already defied the laws of physics and gravity, what was one more? That man; he was a mystery, a wonderful mystery.

Now that Italy was done, he pushed all his gifts to the side and settled down on Germany's lap. Germany blushed slightly as his boyfriend made himself comfortable. Italy tried to hand him a present, but realized he was in the way. Pouting, he resigned himself to sit next to Germany, resting his head against his shoulder.

Germany sighed. He was impossible in an endearing sort of way. Germany took the gift from Italy, reading the label. It was from Japan. Intrigued, Germany pulled off the paper. He was so meticulous that Italy was squirming in excitement and suspense within seconds. When the paper was finally off, he could see that Japan had given him his country's newest rifle. "Hmm. This is nice." He said, examining the gun. Italy looked disappointed. He was expecting something more interesting than a gun. There was always the next one. Italy wasted no time in shoving the next package into Germany's arms.

"This one's from your brother." He said, waiting for Germany to open it. Germany groaned internally. What could his 'awesome' bruder have given him this year. He pulled off the wrapping paper, a little apprehensive. It could be anything; literally anything. When he spared a glance, he was pleasantly surprised. It was a case of high quality German beer. He opened up the package and found a slip of paper amongst the cans.

What did he say?

Germany hastily shoved the paper in his pocket, hoping that Italy didn't see.

"Ve, what was that?" He asked curiously.

"It's nothing. Prussia just wished me a merry Christmas." Germany replied, praying that Italy would buy it.

"That was nice of him." Italy said, nuzzling Germany's arm. "Open the rest of them quickly. I have to give you my present."

It only took another fifteen minutes for Germany to finish opening everything. He was just like non-Christmas Italy in this regard: taking his sweet time. Once the last present was opened, Italy rushed out of the room. He was back in a split second, brandishing a rectangular package. Germany took it from him. Italy was quite literally bouncing off the walls.

"Calm down. You won't be able to see me open it if you aren't over here." Germany beckoned him over to the couch, and he sat down. At least, he tried to. It didn't last long. Within seconds, Italy was back to jumping up and down; but this time, he stayed in front of Germany.

Germany took in the neatly wrapped gift. Of course Italy would be the one to find pasta wrapping paper. Where the hell did he get that? Germany tore the paper off and inhaled sharply at the sight. It was beautiful. It was a white picture frame with seashells glued to it. It looked homemade. But the best part was the picture. Germany and Italy were sitting on a beach together watching the sunset, facing away from the camera. Italy's head rested on Germany's shoulder, and his curl morphed into a little heart. The pink and orange light casted a beautiful filter over the whole photo. Germany brought a hand to his mouth. No one's ever given him anything this thoughtful.

"Feli…" Germany whispered. Italy bounced around excitedly.

"Do you like it? I glued the shells on the frame myself. They're from that time we were stranded on that island. Japan took that picture of us too. He gave it to me when we were discussing Christmas shopping a few weeks ago, and-" Germany cut him off with a kiss. Italy's eyes widened in surprise, but he kissed back, happy that Germany liked his gift. Germany pulled away, a rare smile gracing his lips.

"I love it. Thank you, Feliciano." Germany hugged him. He really did love it. Italy did all that work just for him. And he's usually so lazy; where did he get the motivation? Germany could never figure him out. That man; he was a mystery, a wonderful mystery.

"Ve! I'm glad you like it! Now, do I get my gift?" He asked excitedly, a blinding smile on his face.

Germany's face paled. He almost forgot. Germany worked his way through the mountain of gifts, until he stood next to the fireplace. "Umm, yes. Come over here." He beckoned Italy to the only empty space in the room. Italy skipped over to him. He was a little confused, but excited at the same time. What did Germany get him? Why did he have to come over here? Was it something big? Italy had no idea what Germany could have gotten him. He tried to be patient, but the suspense was killing him!

Germany adjusted his tie, pointedly not looking at the jittery Italian. He could do this…probably. Maybe he could do it another day, right? No, he wouldn't back down. Germany took a steadying breath to compose himself. This was it. There was no turning back.

"Umm, Italy?" Italy wasn't paying attention; he was wrapped up in his present guessing game.

Germany tried again. "Feli, look at me please." Italy seemed to realize that Germany was talking to him, and stood stock still. He gave a playful salute with his left hand.

"Yes sir!" He smiled sweetly.

Germany's hands started to sweat. He cleared his throat. Italy was waiting, he had to do this now. His heart was racing; pounding like a drum. Shakily, Germany grasped Italy's hands in his own. Italy tilted his head in confusion. What was going on? Then Germany started to speak.

"Feli, we've been allies for a long time, and have known each other for even longer than that; and I've never met a more wonderful man." Italy's eyes widened in shock. Was this what he thought it was? Was this really happening? His eyes were beginning to glisten with tears; happy tears.

Germany continued. "I love all your little quirks, even your pasta and siesta obsession. You have an amazing personality. I've never met anyone with such a sunny outlook on life. When all I see is darkness, you show me the light. I love that about you; you can make even the worst situation seem brighter." Germany gripped Italy's hands tightly. "You are the kindest, sweetest, most beautiful man in the world. I want to spend the rest of my life by your side. That's why I want to ask…"

Germany bent down on one knee and pulled a velvet box from his pocket. Italy gasped; his heart was beating a mile a minute.

"Feliciano Vargas, will you marry me?" That's when the floodgates broke loose. Tears poured down Italy's face and he smiled wider than he ever had before.

"Yes! God, yes! Ti amo Luddy. Ti amo!" Italy was glowing with joy. Germany looked relieved. With trembling hands, he slid the ring onto Italy's finger. It was the same one from six years ago. He didn't have the heart to throw it away.

Italy launched himself into Germany's arms, bawling with happiness. Germany laughed, tears beginning to roll down his own cheeks. He couldn't believe it. Italy actually said yes!

"Ich liebe dich Feliciano. Ich liebe dich. I was so worried you were going to say no. That was the most nerve-wracking thing I've ever done, but I'm glad I did it."

Italy giggled, drunk on happiness. "Me too. I will always say yes."

Germany pulled Italy into a kiss. It was full of passion and love. A kiss for the past. A kiss for the present. A kiss for the future. Germany linked their hands together, pressing his forehead to his fiancé's.

"I will always love you." They were locked in their own little world; one filled with love, hope and passion. Suddenly, Italy's stomach grumbled.

"Ve Luddy, I'm hungry." Germany stared at him incredulously.

"Didn't you just have about fifteen bowls of pasta this morning?" Italy giggled sheepishly.

"Yeah, but you wore me out. I need some energy." He patted his stomach. Germany shook his head.

That man; he was a mystery, a wonderful mystery.