A/N: I was looking at Google and saw this cute picture of Italy and Germany! Italy was lying in his bed and Germany sat on the edge and it was like a surprise smooch! So it inspired me! That and I just got over being THIS sick, so I thought I would use these fresh memories. This shall be proof that Hetalia fan fictions DON'T SUCK!
Italy always tried to skip training. He didn't care if it was for retreating; he was terrified of Germany when the blonde got serious.
But today, he lay down, in a cold sweat, tears pricking his usually happy eyes. He pressed a clammy palm on his exposed stomach and let out a quiet moan of pain, careful not to give away his obvious hideout.
He didn't try to get help. Japan would force him to drink herbal remedies and inhale fancy spices. Germany would spoon-feed him wurst and make him drink ale. All he wanted was someone to hold him and hug him. He hated being alone when he was sick.
"Italy?" an angry voice called, outside of the tent. "Are you in there?"
"Yes! Don't come in! I'm not decent!" he exclaimed in the fakest voice known to man. But Germany didn't question it.
"Hurry up! Japan and I are tired of waiting!" he snapped, then marched away.
Italy let out a slow breath that came out as more of a sob, and clenched his hands into the light blue bedding. He let out another ragged breath before he floated in and out of consciousness, wishing Germany was there to comfort him.
Maybe an hour or so later, Italy finally couldn't go back to sleep, and his fever only got worse. He was sweating and his whole being ached. He had even begun to cry. Of course, this was when Germany came in, about to roar at Italy for not showing up again.
"ITALY! Huh? Italy? What is wrong?" he asked, his tone changing from raging to worried in seconds. He rushed over and slid on the floor, grabbing Italy's pale hand and feeling his forehead, wiping away the annoying strand of hair in the process.
"You're ill! Why didn't you tell anyone? Why didn't you tell… me?" Germany asked, scared for his friend.
"I didn't want you to worry," Italy said with a slight smile toward his dear friend.
"What an amazing job you've done at that!" Germany snapped.
"You know I meant no harm by it! I promise!" Italy moaned and gave a sloppy grin.
Germany winced. Italy looked so… fragile! He had never seen the small country cry. So it amazed him how he could hold his head up high and still smile.
Germany made Japan make remedies for Italy, while he changed the sweat soaked sheets. He placed cold cloths on Italy's face often and stayed there, holding his hand in his sleep, to afraid to show him how attached he had become.
Japan came after Italy fell asleep for maybe the seventh time. "You have to tell him the truth," Japan said normally, his voice coming out as only a whisper.
"And what? What will he say? No one could know! It's not worth the risk…" Germany muttered as he gripped the Italian's hand a little tighter.
"Maybe he doesn't want to be with you," Japan suggested.
"What?"
"Maybe he would rather be with the person you should be. Not the boring, rough exterior you often portray yourself in. Perhaps, when he wakes up, be there as a friend, not as a commander."
With that, Germany was left alone with the now rousing Italy.
"Hey… How do you feel?" Germany asked slowly, readjusting himself on the bed, so he was sitting next to his sick friend.
"Better, now that I know the truth," he said quietly.
Germany paled, and then turned red like tomatoes paste. "Italy, I… uh," but he was cut off.
Italy reached up and wrapped a hand around Germany's neck, and pulled himself up. He kissed the German soldier slowly, but surely.
When Italy finally pulled away, he gave Germany a sheepish grin. "You're going to get sick now, too," he giggled.
Germany smiled and said, "Then I think it's your turn to play nurse."