Here we go again with Italy being a bit depressed. WTF? Anyway…enjoy! And review! And remember that no matter how much it depresses me…I do not own Hetalia!
It only took one little thing for Germany to snap. One small push sent him over the edge and now he was screaming at the quivering ball of Italian in front of him. It's not like it was Italy's fault. Really, Germany had just had a lot to do recently and hadn't been able to get enough rest. He was tired. He was overworked. And he was frustrated. And then came Italy. Crying and clinging to him becaue of the storm outside. That was all it took and Germany went into instant rage mode. He didn't even manage to register how upset Italy looked, how terrified he was. The white flag waving frantically over the cringing Italian's head went unnoticed, as did the tears spilling over the lad's eyes. And Germany just kept yelling. Telling Italy off, calling him awful names, telling him how useless he was, wondering loudly why he had even befriended the spineless nation.
Having finally released all of his tension and frustration he finally looked at, and truly saw Italy. On his knees, surrendering desperatly, crying, shaking, and terrified. Germany felt a guilt like no other wash over him at the sight of the smaller nation. Germany knew for sure he had done this. This was the most terrified he'd ever seen Italy. And it was all his fault.
"Italien..." Germany stepped forward suddenly, extending a hand to his friend and ally. He wanted to apologize, but wasn't really sure how to go about that.
"NO!" Italy shrieked, as if he'd actually been struck. He flew to his feet, shrinking back away from Germany. When the bigger man continued to advance, Italy panicked. And then he did the most unexpected thing. He kicked Germany. Hard. Right on the shins. Germany winced and picked the leg up, rubbing the sore spot, as Italy burst out the door. Moments later he heard the front door open and shut loudly.
"Was habe ich getan? (What have I done?)" Germany sighed to himself. Without any further ado, the man flung himself down the stairs and out the door, searching desperately for Italy.
Through the pouring rain, Germany just barely managed to catch a glimpse of the Italian nation disappearing into a thick forest. Without even thinking, Germany picked up the pace, slipping a bit in the mud, and followed right behind Italy. The brush was thick in the woods, and between that and the rain, Germany couldn't catch sight of his ally.
"ITALIEN! Bitten kommen hier! (Italy! Please come here!)" Germany cried out, running blindly through the trees. Searching for a sign, any sign, of his little Italian. He continued to call out the boy's name, saying he was sorry, that he didn't mean it, begging him to answer. Nothing worked. Eventually he came across a muddy creek bank, and found small boot prints in the muck. He followed the prints, still sprinting, hoping that the smaller nation would be at the end of the trail. Eventually he came across the end of the trail, the boot prints coming to a rather abrupt halt. As Germany skidded to a stop, he picked up the faint sound of whimpering. Looking down into the creek he found a small, shivering, sobbing and familiar figure. Italy. He had obviously slipped in the mud and ended up in the creek, not even bothering to pick himself back up as he laid there and sobbed his heart out.
"Italien..." Germany whispered his name as he waded into the creek, leaning over to place a gentile hand on Italy's shoulder. Despite the gentleness of the touch, Italy flinched away immediately. As recognition dawned on the lad's face his expression went from startled to blatantly terrified.
"Mi dispiace! Mi dispiace tanto! (I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!)" Italy cried out frantically, tears and rain drops pouring down the side of his face. "I'm sorry I'm so useless! I can't do anything right! All I can do is eat, sleep, and surrender! No wonder you're always so stressed! I would be too if I had to put up with me! Don't worry, I'll leave! You won't have to take care of me anymore, I promise! Sono cosi molto, molto dispiaciuto! (I'm so very, very sorry!)
"Nein.(no) Don't apologize. Stop apologizing right now, do you hear me?" Germany growled, one arm slipping under Italy's knees, the other gripping the small man's trembling shoulders. "I am the one who should apologize." Germany lifted Italy out of the creek bed, standing up slowly and carefully, holding his Italian close to his chest. "I was wrong to yell at you like that. I am not angry at you, I am frustrated because I've had a lot to do and I haven't been sleeping properly. That's all. I promise I'm not mad. And don't you dare leave me! Don't you ever leave me."
"Germany...?" Italy looked up at him, confused.
"Es tut mier leid(I'm sorry.)" Germany whispered miserably.
"Ti perdono, Germania. (I forgive you Germany.)" Italy hiccupped, his tears finally slowing down.
"Danke. Ich verdiene es nicht. (Thank you. I don't deserve it.)." Germany said. Suddenly the lightning started back up again, and as the first roar of thunder boomed around them, Italy cringed, crying out in fear.
"Shhh..." Germany soothed, nuzzling the top of Italy's head gently. "It's alright. Ich bin hier. Ich werde dich beschutzen. (I'm here. I'll protect you.)" Italy wound his arms tightly around Germany, nestling his head into the crook of Germany's neck, relaxing into the stronger man's hold as he was carried home.
Germany watched the Italian shiver as he slept, worried to death. He'd done his best to dry the boy off and had gotten him into dry clothing, but Italy was still really chilled. He whimpered uncomfortably in his sleep and Germany reached out a hand to stroke the small nation's cheek. Italy leaned happily into the touch as he slept, and a wave of what could only be pure affection washed over Germany. His icy cold blue eyes got warmed several shades and he smiled gently, petting Italy's hair. Italy stirred suddenly, cracking his eyes and smiled up at Germany; a smile that nearly stopped the German's heart, and actually succeeded in sending the darned thing pounding madly inside his chest.
"Hey." Italy said, his teeth chattering.
"Hey." Germany sighed. "You should get more sleep; you're going to catch a cold."
"But Germany~" Italy whined. "I'm cold~!" As if to prove his point, Italy's shivering intensified. Germany contemplated holding the Italian close in hopes of warming him up, but he didn't get a chance to act. A sudden clap of thunder, louder than any before it, sent Italy diving into the German, his face buried in the larger man's side, arms wound around his middle.
"Italy." Germany reached down for the shaking figure. "It's alright. It's just a storm. I won't let it hurt you." Germany scooped the little man up, settling him across his lap, cradling him like a child. Italy cuddled up to the German's chest with a sigh, as his ally wrapped the blanket around him again. Eventually, between the heat radiating from Germany's body, and the blanket around his back, Italy stopped shivering. Germany was relieved to say the least.
"Germany." Italy said, hoping to get his ally's attention. Germany looked down at Italy, shocked when two smoldering, beautiful amber eyes met his. Italy smiled at him, then closed the space between them. The press of lips against his sent shivers down Germany's spine. Before his mind could register a reasonable response, Germany was already melting. The waves of heat and electricity caused by the simple kiss were almost too much for the man to take. He tightened his grip on Italy, laving his tongue over the man's bottom lip, pleased when he was granted entrance. The German wasted no time in claiming every inch of Italy's mouth for his own, and as they parted the two were already gasping for breath and very, very turned on.
Italy moved so that he was straddling Germany's hips, grinding against him and kissing from his chin to his collar bone. Germany growled at the onslaught of pleasure, unable to hold back from bucking his hips and gripping Italy as tightly as he could. Their shirts soon found themselves thrown aside irritably, as the couple sought more flesh to kiss and explore. Italy tipped them backwards onto the bed, worming them around so that Germany's head was nestled on the pillows. Breaking the heated kisses, the smaller nation knelt between Germany's legs.
"Ve~ Germany's hard." Italy purred, nuzzling the bulge in the larger man's pants before shucking the remaining layers of clothing.
"Italy." Germany groaned impatiently as the small man teased him, nuzzling at his inner thighs before pausing to lick at the German's tip. Italy looked up at him deviously and went back to his teasing.
"Fe-feliciano." Germany moaned the Italian's real name. Italy smiled up at him, deciding that the German deserved a reward. He slowly began to take the German into his mouth, Germany throwing his head back and moaning with relief as the dreadful teasing was over. Italy pressed his tongue against the tip of Germany's cock, receiving an even louder moan in response. He continued his work, taking the German in as far as he could, bobbing his head and swirling his tongue around his length. Germany was reduced to a needy ball of nerves and Italy had to use all of his strength to keep him from bucking upwards. Germany finally came as Italy reached a hand up to toy with the his balls and gave a particularly hard suck.
Italy sat up to study his handiwork, pleased at the German's disheveled appearance. His half lidded blue eyes were laced with heat and lust his mouth was agape, his entire face was flushed and some of his slicked back golden hair had started to fall loose. As Germany noticed the boy staring, he smirked at him, before loosening the boy's pants and letting them, along with his boxers, slide down so he could grope the Italian's ass. Italy mewled as the first finger plunged inside him, pressing back against it. Germany smiled and added the second finger, scissoring them. Italy continued to moan, hiding his face in the German's broad chest.
Germany added a third finger and continued to thrust them in and out of Italy until he'd recovered from his climax. As soon as he was ready, and it really didn't take long with a sexy Italian moaning into his chest, he flipped the over and hooked Feliciano's ankles over his shoulders.
"You ready?" Germany asked, positioning himself over his lover. Italy nodded and Germany thrust quickly into the willing body below him.
"Ludwig~" Italy moaned as his body stretched, eyes screwed shut from the intense mixture of pleasure and pain. Germany almost came again at the sound of his real name on the Italian's lips, but held himself back, stilling until Italy began to wriggle against him. He set a slow pace at first so as not to harm the Italian, but his lover seemed displeased.
"I'm not made of glass." Italy purred in Ludwig's ear. Germany snapped, he gripped the headboard so that he could properly thrust into his Italian. He pounded mercilessly against the smaller man's prostate. Italy threw his head back, screaming and moaning and writhing with pleasure. Germany snaked one hand down to stroke Feliciano in time with his thrusts and the Italian came hard, screaming Ludwig's name over and over again.
"ITAL-FELICIANO!" Germany moaned loudly as he followed his lover into the thralls of ecstasy, thrusting into him a few more times as the rode out their orgasms. Germany finally collapsed onto Italy, gasping into the crook of the man's neck before rolling off of him and pulling the Italian into his chest to cuddle. Italy snuggled up happily, wrapping his arms around his lover and sighing.
"I-ich liebe dich, Italien." Germany stuttered out, blushing madly.
"Anch'io. Ti amo, Ludwig." Italy murmured before falling asleep. Listening to the steady rhythm of Italy's breathing, Germany stroked the Italian's hair gently, wondering how he had won the heart of such a wonderful, beautiful creature as Feliciano Vargas.