Keep Me Company
Germany sighed in vexation, staring down at the document. It was so long; there was so much text. Usually he wouldn't mind, but he had looked through about fifty to a hundred of these already, and was getting sick of it. Alas, he had to finish it all for the meeting with his boss the next day and could not afford to neglect his work, no matter how incredibly exhausted he was. He was especially exhausted after having Italy stay at his house for the weekend, what with how energetic the little Italian was; but when he had fluttered his eyelashes and made his amber eyes wet with coming tears and clasped his hands together, Germany could not say no to Italy's request to stay over.
Germany was very busy indeed, but he looked up when there was a knock at the door, and none other but Italy walked in sporting a cup of coffee.
"Ve, Germany's still working." he stated, seeming in wonderment at how the German could work so long. Well, he would, wouldn't he? Italy didn't do much work.
"Ja," the German nation replied tiredly, "sorry I didn't spend much time with you this weekend."
Italy shook his head and smiled comfortingly, "It's okay! I had fun just being by Germany's side." He stepped forward and gently thrust the steaming mug before Germany, "Here!"
Germany blinked at the brown liquid, tantalising him with its scent, "F-…for me?"
Italy laughed as Germany accepted the mug, "Who else could it be for? Germany must be tired, so I thought that some coffee would help to rejuvenate him."
Germany smiled warmly and blushed down at the mug heating his hands, "Ja…danke." Italy could be a true air-head at times and go long periods thinking of nothing, being in a daze; but at times Italy could be quite thoughtful.
Italy plopped down in the spare chair beside Germany and rested his elbows on the desk and his head in his hands, "Is Germany going to finish up soon?"
Germany frowned a little, sighing, "Nein, I still have a lot to do." Although he wished he didn't. Some would call him a workaholic, and he would normally agree; but under current circumstances, the last thing he wanted to do was work. The first thing was to crawl into bed with Italy and rest in each other's arms. He would never admit that much though.
"Eeh?" Italy cried, "But it's already time for bed! Germany should take a break, si?" Germany just shook his head though, took a sip of the wonderful coffee, and turned back to the mound of papers before him. Italy pouted at how stubborn Germany was being about work. He knew Germany was a stern man, but he had already covered a lot of work. Maybe if he turned up with over half of it, then his bosses would let him off? But then he remembered that this was the country of Germany, not Italy, and that probably wouldn't work after all. Still, Italy decided to be stubborn too.
"Well, if Germany's staying up, then I'm staying up!" Germany turned back to the tanned nation at this, his brow creased and his lips set in a tight line.
"Nein, Italy. You need your rest."
"Well you need yours as well and you're not getting it." Italy replied, his brow imitating the creases in Germany's, "It seems only fair that I stay up with you."
Germany glowered at the Italian, "If you persist to stay up, then I will personally drag you to bed myself."
"Then I'll just get out again and come back here." Italy replied, his brow twitching. He was having trouble rebelling against Germany, because he had never really defied his friend, but he was doing it anyway, because he thought it to be best.
"I'll just drag you to bed again then."
"Well, I'll just escape again then."
"You won't be able to keep that up forever, Italy."
"Neither will you, Germany."
There was a pregnant pause as Germany continued to stare at Italy, probably hoping the Mediterranean nation would back down and go to bed to sleep as he often did because he was Italy and that was just what he did. Alas, Germany was forced to let out a sigh of exasperation as he gave in once more to those golden brown eyes under that auburn fringe.
"Mein Gott, fine!" he cried, turning back to his work, "I'm sure you'll give in and go to bed soon anyway." Italy wanted to retaliate and say that he wouldn't, and he would stay up all night, and even the next night if needed, but instead he just smiled jovially and felt satisfaction in his defeat over Germany, no matter how trivial the situation.
But, actually, the situation wasn't that trivial, at least not to Italy. This was about proving himself to Germany – proving that he wasn't just a silly, incompetent pasta and pizza lover and could follow through with things until the bitter end. Even if it was just staying up, that still took self-discipline for someone who loved siestas so much and so often – someone like him.
And so, Italy fought with himself as time ticked on and Germany's pen scratched against paper after paper, and Italy's eyes fluttered closed, then open again, over and over. He kept himself somewhat awake by continuously fetching coffee for both him and Germany, but it could still never reinvigorate him like a proper sleep would. Honestly, he was losing his will to stay up, but he had promised to stay up with Germany, and that was what he was going to do, no matter how much his eyes stung till he had to rub at them, no matter how much his mind wondered back to the tantalising mattress on the bed, no matter how much his hopes were dropped when Germany yawned and he thought the stern nation was going to admit that it was too much work and was going to pack it in and would Italy like to join him in bed? Nope, no matter what, Italy would not give in.
After all, imagine the new-found respect Germany would have for him, and how surprised he would be when he found that Italy could do things properly as opposed to half-arsed. Imagine how Germany's lips would upturn into that rare, precious smile Italy treasured so much, accompanied by a sweet rosy blush, subtle but there all the same and just so reassuring and friendly and worth all of Germany's tough training and strict schedules. It was probably little daydreams like this that evolved into one big dream as Italy lost grasp of his surroundings just around dawn and fell into unconsciousness on the chair in the corner of Germany's office. And as Germany signed his name on the very last document, he couldn't help but be drawn away from the arranging and shuffling of paper by the sound of slow, quiet snoring that was still so irregular that it was loud.
And then he didn't notice his lips quirk up and a contented sigh escape as he gazed upon Italy, who had tried so very hard and lasted so very long, asleep, finally, with drool ungraciously dribbling from his mouth and his head tilted right forward until it seemed that maybe that whole position wasn't so comfortable. How did he fall asleep like that anyway? He must have been very tired. He did stay up with his friend after all, for his friend's sake. Germany shook his head, trying to act disgraced although that smile of endearment still lingered, and yawned as he abandoned his desk and went to pick up the sleeping Italian.
He was actually quite glad Italy was the size he was, or else lifting him would be a bit more difficult. But Italy was small and slim and seemed to slot into Germany's arms perfectly well, so Germany had absolutely no trouble when carrying Italy upstairs to the bedroom. In fact, he felt he had lost some warmth when he laid out the Italian that had been pressed safely against his chest, tucking him into the sheets soundly. He soon gained that warmth again though, when he tucked himself into the other side and sidled up to the unconscious nation, wrapping his arms around his smaller form and breathing in the familiar scent of old recipes that could never quite be forgotten and summery beaches where the tide was high and tickled your toes, and a loyal friend he could never quite hate, no matter how much he annoyed him or how many white flags he produced.
"Thanks for keeping me company. Gute nacht, mein Italien." Germany managed to breathe out in below a whisper, just as sleep took him.
Author's notes: I find it ironic that I'm writing about Italy trying to stay up when I myself am struggling to fight sleep since my friend, pie1313, wanted to read a short, fluffy story, pronto. My friend was also the one who came up with this sweet idea. Although it was I who kind of built more on Italy as to his motives - I'm sure that even this silly little Italian wants to prove himself sometimes. Don't you?
Well anyway, excuse me and my sleep-deprived mind, for I am going to bed. Gute nacht, everyone~
Critique is welcomed, comments are appreciated!
Thank you and enjoy!
Disclaimer: Italy and Germany belong to Hidekaz Himaruya.
AnorexicWalrus~