He was going soft. Gemany knew this of course, but what could be done about it? He rolled his eyes at the young Italian happily rambling beside him.
"Ludwig, are you listening to me?"
Germany glanced up, crystal blue eyes meeting rich chocolate brown ones.
"Sorry, Italy, I guess I spaced out." Germany chuckled sheepishly, running a calloused hand through his blond hair, the normally tame locks falling around his fingers lightly.
He sighed. The fact that he had not hit Italy for calling him Ludwig was prove enough that he was going soft.
"Ludwig, why don't you ever call me by my name?" The brunette stopped, staring at his German friend with innocent curiousity.
Germany groaned. That was... complicated, and the blonde had many reasons, none of which he could say aloud.
'I can't call you that because once I start, I'll never vant to stop. It'll feel too personal, too close, too real for me to handle.' He thought to himself as he pondered how to answer Italy's question.
He had long since stopped denying his feelings for the boy to himself. Denying it was pointless.
The sound of Italy's snoring broke him from his thoughts. He smiled down at the young man, gently stroking the amber strand off of his forehead.
"Goodnight... Feliciano..." He murmured, grabbing the spare comforter and pillow from his closet and collapsing on the loveseat. It was much too short, and his long legs hung out over the edge. Every night this happened. Italy always fell asleep in Germany's bed, forcing the large German to the cramped quarters of the loveseat. He wouldn't hold it against Italy though. Germany's mind raced with thoughts until, finally, sleep overtook him.
It was dawn when Italy awoke. He yawned sleepily, sitting up in the large bed, a soft giggle escaping his lips. He always fell asleep in Germany's bed. This was the first time he had ever woken up before the blonde though. Wait, where was Germany?
Italy scanned the room, a smile breaking across his face as he spotted his friend. Germany was sprawled out on the loveseat, arms hanging off the edge. Silently, Itay padded across the room to where Germany slept. He debated in his mind whether or not to do what he wanted to. Finally he decided to throw caution to the wind. He carefully lifted the blondes arm, crawling onto the edge of the loveseat, and wrapping his friends arm around his shoulders. He curled up against the older man, cuddling into his friends warmth. The young Italian kissed his friends cheek gently, before drifting back to sleep.
Germany sighed, unconciously tightening his hold on the boy, nuzzling his face into Italy's silky amber hair.
Germany groggily opened his eyes. His back was killing him, and Italy's head was like a ton of bricks on his arm... wait, Italy's head!
His eyes widened as he surveyed the situation. Italy's head was on his arm, and his other arm was slung about the younger man's torso lightly. Their legs were intertwined, and the brunette's backside was pressed firmly against Germany's groin. He bit his lip roughly. The last thing he wanted to do was to wake Italy up, but he didn't have enough willpower to resist this temptation.
"Italy!" He roared. "Vhat in the hell do you think you are doing!"
Italy jumped, landing on the floor with a hard thud. "What? Oh, Buongiorno, Germany! Ve~ I got cold last night, so I thought I would warm up with you!" The Italian laughed happily. He hoped the large German believed him. The questions the blonde would ask if not were not ones Italy could answer.
"What would Prussia think if he had walked in? Or France?" The German growled, smacking the brunette upside the head.
The young Italian frowned. "Why does it matter, Luddy?" Confusion masked his disappointment well.
Germany blushed, turning his head away. "It just does, okay?"
He glanced up at the boy, and his heart almost broke. Tears streamed down Italy's soft cheeks, and Germany wanted nothing more than to pull him to his chest and hold him until the radiant smile returned. He resisted the urge to kiss away the boy's tears.
"Italy, please don't cry!" He pleaded. It killed him when Italy cried.
"B...But Germany i...is ashamed of me!" Italy sobbed.
"No, I'm not! It's not that, it's just..." Germany stuttered, trying to explain in the least embarrassing way possible.
"Just what?" Italy cried.
Something in Germany broke. He wrapped his arms around the brunettes back, pulling the boy to him roughly. He held him tightly, as though he were afraid someone would steal his only friend from him.
"G-Germany?" Chocolate brown orbs stared questioningly, searching blue, etched with confusion.
"I am not ashamed of you! I will never be ashamed of you!" Germany whispered fiercely.
Italy stared at him wide-eyed, finally allowing himself to rest his head on the blonde's chest, content to be held in the strong arms.
"Ludwig..." He murmured softly, taking in the older man's warmth. He nuzzled his face into the crook of Germany's neck.
Germany rested his cheek on Italy's silken head, gently stroking his back. Fuck it. Fuck what Prussia and the others thought. He was really past caring.
He was broken away from his thoughts by Italy's tiny voice questioning him, "G-Germany?"
"Yes, Italy?"
Italy took a deep breath, mustering up all of his courage. Amber held cerulean determinedly.
"Ich liebe dich."
Buongiorno- Good morning
Ich liebe dich- I love you