Sick
He had been feeling rather off the whole day, he had barely slept a wink the night before, and the last thing he wanted to do was go to drill, where the sun would beat down mercilessly on him, making him even more tired, and it wouldn't help his headache of course. This was one of those lovely ones that throbbed in time with his heartbeat and was like the water torture he had heard China used at some point in his long life. Maybe he still did? Of course, with drill, there was Feliciano, who would only make it all worse with his over-affectionate, loud, naive self. Then he would yell, and Italy would cry and his headache would get all the worse for it.
The solution to going to drill and getting worse was simple: just don't go to drill. But he had appearances to keep up to his other ally, Japan, and what would the painfully polite/blunt nation say to his laziness? Nothing, he was sure, or he'd say it in that manner of his that belonged to him and him only. Making up his mind (his reputation was more important), Ludwig shifted experimentally and was rewarded with a thunderous pain in his temple that had him gasping desperately for a moment. That changed his plans rather effectively: he wasn't going anywhere until this hellishness faded a bit. Maybe he would just sleep here, on the couch, for a while. Yeah, that sounded like a really good idea right now...
Italy was confused. It was drill, that much was obvious, and yet, Germany wasn't there. Which was odd, because Germany never missed drill, and would never unless he was... oh! Germany might be terribly sick! Or... or dead! Feliciano gasped, hands covering his mouth in horror, and jumped up from his seat on the ground by the field that they did drill at. He looked at Japan, who was standing a few meters away, waiting patiently, or maybe impatiently, Italy never knew which.
"I'll be back! Maybe!" he called to Japan. He nodded once, but Italy didn't see it, already tearing towards Germany's house to make sure his beloved Ludwig was okay. He didn't knock on the door when he reached the tidy house, but crashed through with a bang that was met with a low groan from the living room. He grinned widely; Germany was alive! He ran into where he knew he would be and stared at Ludwig's pathetic form on the couch, pale, shuddering and yet flushed in the face.
"Germany's sick~!" he exclaimed to himself, laying a hand on Ludwig's forehead. Germany leaned into the contact, finding his hand to be cool and soothing against his alarmingly hot skin. Italy stared at him for a moment before it hit him. He needed to move Germany to his bed so he could be cared for properly! Grabbing the larger man's arm, he pulled as hard as he could before finally managing to sling half of the man's body over his shoulder.
"Come on! Why's Germany so heavy~?" he complained loudly, still heaving on his arm.
Germany just groaned and tried to get his feet underneath him so he could support himself, but he barely succeeded, making Italy take the brunt of his weight. Progress was slow, but Feliciano knew he had to help Germany get better! Eventually, Ludwig was lying in his own bed, shivering, sweating and pale, yet flushed and Italy ran to fetch a cool, damp cloth for his forehead. When this was accomplished, he grabbed a blanket and tucked the large man in. Standing above him with a proud grin he surveyed his accomplishment, thinking that Germany looked very comfy, all tucked under his blanets, sleep and warm... oh wait. If he was warm, would he still be shaking? Hopping from foot to foot as he tried to think of something to, it struck him. Whenever he was cold in his own bed, he would just run to Germany's bed and climb in! Then, lying with him, he'd be all nice and toasty warm! Feliciano figured, why not? and began to strip down until he was only wearing his pants, then he yanked them off too.
Sneaking under the covers with the larger man, he wrapped lithe arms around his waist and snuggled up, pillowing his cheek on Germany's chest.
"I-italy?" Germany rasped, his eyes at half-mast, unfocused and staring at the ceiling of his bedroom. He was aware of the arms around him and knew only one nation that would invade his personal space to such a level.
"You're sick, Germany, and I'm gonna make you better! But you have to sleep now, so shhh!~" not to mention, he was gonna get his precious nap either way, and this way was way more comfy and Germany would have no reason to yell at him again! It was all perfect in his mind.
Rarely did Ludwig not argue or scold Feliciano, and right now, he hadn't the energy to tell him off for invading his house again, or for skipping drill, which Japan would be doing alone now, if he did it at all, he realised dimly.
Slowly, his eyes closed and he succumbed to sleep, where in his dreams he was looking at a beautiful maid in a field of flowers...