What I Want.
Summary: Italy wants to top, Germany agrees. But what consequences will this little change to things have?
Warnings: MPreg. Badly written sex scenes. GerIta goodness.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.
"Hey Doitsu?" Italy's voice was way too cheerful for this time of morning. It radiated sunshine and daises into the colourless morning fog.
When he had gone to wake the Italian up, Germany had expected the smaller nation to be upset at having to be up before the sun was. He had envissioned the fight, the struggle, the tantrum and then the triumph of getting the younger of the Italian brothers out of bed.
He had not expected to find the normally lazy nation awake and awaiting him at the front door for their jog.
Italy was a strange man, but that's what Germany liked most about him, his originalness, the quirky way he did things. He would never know what goes on in his little head, but he really didn't want to.
Sighing and wiping the sweat from his forehead, he slowed from his run, stopping to answer.
Italy had kept pace with him all morning, and it was starting to slightly freak the taller nation out. The only time Italy would run this fast was when he was retreating, fleeing from the enemy with his tail between his legs and a white flag flapping behind him.
Germany muttered out a faint, 'Yes Italia?', as he caught his breath.
"Next time we have sex, can I top?" Blunt and straight to the point.
Germany looked over at Italy, suprised by the question. Head cocked to the side, lips tugging into one of the biggest smiles to ever grace his features, he was awaiting an answer to a question he had been wanting to ask for quite awhile, mulling it over and over in his head, waiting for enough courage to go on and ask his German lover.
Germany had expected Italy to want to stop because he was tired, or hungry or someother random ridiculous thing the eccentric nation always wanted to do in the middle of things...
But Italy wanted him to be bottom? Why would he want to top? Didn't he like being the bottom? Was there something wrong with the way Germany did things? The nation always seemed to like the way things were, why did he want to change it?
Though, thinking about the smaller nation being inside of him had Germany a little hot under the colour. He wasn't apposed to the idea, he infact would quite like to try it, but...
He had an unnerving feeling about it. He had never bottomed before, always the one to give never recieve. Did it hurt? Italy seemed to like it, but he always gave these small inclannations that it was painful or uncomfortable, but in the end he had always seemed to take pleasure out of it. Would he like it?
Taking a deep, calming breath and blowing it out through his mouth, he nodded. "Alright, sure." He couldn't really see much harm in doing this. Italy had balled up enough courage to ask, so why couldn't he do the same and go with it? Plus he could hardly say no to his little lover.
"I mean it would only ever be this once. I just wanna see how it is to... Did you just agree? Yay! I'm going to top Doitsu, I'm going to top." He continued singing about topping and pasta and celebrating, as he skipped back to Germany's house.
Suddenly Germany didn't know if this was such a good idea. What had he gotten himself into?
So I know I shouldn't start more stories but this, this one I had to get out. It's kind of blocking up my Who's That Chick? enthusiasm, I have it all written out I just can't seem to want to type it up, and if I just get it out I'll hopefully be getting back on track with that one.
So what do you guys think? Did I make any mistakes?