In the middle of the night, Germany awoke to a weight on his chest, but the weight on his chest was not the only thing Germany felt.
Hands were in his hair and lips were on his, kissing him rather deeply. There was only one person it could have been, and that was Italy. But why was Italy kissing him? Was it because he had been so nice earlier? Whatever the reason, Germany found himself kissing Italy too. Though after half a minute, Italy let out a sleeping groan and fell off of Germany. Germany lay motionless for a few seconds, unable to do anything else as he was still rather surprised. Then he propped himself up on an elbow to look down at Italy.
"What was that about?" He asked, and got no reply but heavy breathing. "Italy…?"
Italy let out another sleepy little groan and Germany realised that Italy had been asleep the whole time. He couldn't help but wonder what Italy had been dreaming about to cause him to get on top of Germany and kiss him like that, but it must have been a good dream. So Germany tucked himself back in under his blankets, and went back to sleep.
Germany was in the kitchen the next morning, cooking sausages for his breakfast, when Italy stumbled into the room, looking tired.
"Germany, good morning. I had the most fantastic dream, you wouldn't believe. There was this pretty girl, so pretty, and we kissed. It felt so real, and she was a very good kisser, too!" Italy said rather happily as he sat down at the dining table to be served sausages by Germany, who had gone slightly pink in the cheeks.
So that's what the little minx was dreaming about.
After breakfast, the next time Germany saw Italy was in the spare bedroom in Germany's house, which Italy had practically claimed as his own. Italy was sitting in the centre of the room, with his knees pulled up so that he could reach his toes. He was painting his toenails with a bright pink polish, whilst singing softly to himself, "Draw a circle, that's the earth. Draw a circle, that's the earth. Draw a circle that's the earth. I am Hetalia…"
"Italy, can we talk?" Germany asked lowly from the door. Italy glanced up for a moment, and nodded, continuing to paint his toenails. Germany entered the room and stood before Italy, watching as the boy continued to delicately paint his nails.
"You kissed me." Germany said simply, his face blank, eyes locked on Italy, who froze, and then laughed. "Germany, you're so funny!"
"No Italy. You know why that kiss in your dream felt so real? Because you climbed on top of me in your sleep, and you kissed me. I swear it's true." Germany explained to a heavily blushing Italy. The smaller boy threw down his nail polish brush and hid his face behind his hands. "Oh Germany I am so sorry! I didn't mean to! I can't tell you how truly sorry I am, I mean you must have been so surprised waking up to that! Scusi-"
Italy was cut off by a hand taking his own and removing it from his face, and then the feeling of lips upon him.
If someone were to look through the window, they would see Italy, wide eyed on the ground, toenails half painted, with Germany bending over him, one of Italy's hands in his own, and his lips capturing Italy's in a sweet, soft kiss.
When Germany finally let their lips drift apart, Italy was as red as pasta sauce. "You kissed me…" He mumbled, obviously quite taken aback. Germany straightened up and rolled his shoulders awkwardly. He cleared his throat and said, "I have… papers to sign…" Then he promptly left. Italy sat in the centre of the room, his lips tingling and his heart racing. He had never thought of Germany like that before. Romantic, sweet, and kissy. It just wasn't Germany. Italy decided Germany must have been ill.
Later, Italy thought he ought to visit Germany and talk about the kiss. Italy was very confused, and he wanted to sort things out properly. He gently tapped on the door and Germany called out, "Herein!"
Italy entered, and Germany blinked at him. " Hello Italy. What is it?"
"You kissed me. And I want to know why." Italy whispered, his cheeks slightly pink. Germany stood up and gave Italy a stern look. Italy cringed a little. Germany sighed and crossed the room to stand before Italy.
"Because I felt it was the right time to do so." Germany stated, and gave Italy a small smile. Italy smiled in return, and then he said, "My dream was right. The person I was kissing was very good at it."
Germany blushed, and coughed a little. "Well, thank you, Italy. I have had some experience, believe it or not."
"Germany does this mean you like me? More than a friend?" Italy enquired, causing Germany to choke on his spit. "I- I don't know-"
"I like you. You remind me of the first boy I ever kissed. He had blond hair and blue eyes too." Italy said suddenly, and Germany nearly fell over in shock. "WHAT?!"
"Holy Rome. I stayed in his house for a bit. One day he had to leave, and he gave me a kiss before he left, and he promised we would meet again one day… But I haven't seen him since. He was my first love. Sometimes I dream of him still."
Germany was silent, before he realised Italy's eyes had watered up. He gently pulled Italy in for a hug, and the two stayed like that for a bit.
"Will you kiss me again sometime?" Italy asked, his face buried in Germany's warm neck.
"If you really want me to, ja." Germany replied. When it all came down to it, Italy wasn't that bad a guy- and he was very kissable.