Accident

Italy knew he couldn't be ill forever and he would have to eventually stop faking his fever and dragging on his sickness for way too long. The last few days had been bliss, almost like an endless dream. Even when he was confined to his bed with an awful fever, Italy had never felt happier. Germany had came to check on him constantly, always poking his head around the door and saying concernedly, "Are you okay, Italy?" He brought Italy breakfast in bed, made sure he ate his medicine and often sat by his bedside at night until Italy dozed off. In short, he cared so much for Italy the last few days that it surprised him. Italy couldn't help feeling a little thrill of happiness whenever Germany entered his room and his face would never fail to light up in a brilliant smile. His heart always beat and fluttered erratically whenever Germany leaned close to inspect his temperature, cool, strong palm pressed gently against his forehead. Some strange, deep, unknown emotion always surged up in Italy whenever he was close to Germany. He was starting to suspect it was probably love. The emotions scared him at first because it felt so much like a tidal wave, wild and unpredictable, trying to sweep him away.

But now Italy was tired of resisting. He woke up feeling deliriously happy and the first person he wanted to see was of course, none other than Germany. He had read about this before but he had never dreamed to experience it. Now he knew. He was absolutely sure now.

He was in love with Germany.

But I'm not sure if he loves me back…Italy thought, frowning. He had got out of bed and was dressing himself reluctantly. He sighed. He had to get on with his life as normal now. Life goes on. Still, his last few days of sickness felt like a blessing for at least he got to spend more time with Germany. Just thinking about the German made his heart race as he pulled on a light-blue button-down shirt and pants. The late morning sun filtered through the windows cheerfully. As he walked slowly to his door, he briefly remembered how he had fainted at the breakfast a few days ago and Germany had carried him to his bedroom. The memory of being cradled in those strong, protective arms made Italy blush. Suddenly, an idea hit him. Why not see Germany and give him a big thank you for taking care of me? Italy's face broke into a beaming smile at the idea. He imagined bursting into Germany's study and hugging him enthusiastically. He wished he could sneak in a small kiss to show his gratitude but that would probably be too bold, even in Italian standards. Still, he owed Germany a huge thank you. Germany had been so kind to him…

Still smiling, Italy promptly turned heel and sped upstairs to Germany's study.

In his study, Germany couldn't focus. It seemed like everything he did reminded him of Italy. He wondered if love was capable of making people go crazy. His mind was filled with countless images of the Italian; Italy laughing, crying, smiling, pouting and eating pasta. So sweet and innocent.

But a rather different image stood out vividly in Germany's mind: Italy completely naked, staring up adoringly at Germany with wide eyes and blushing cheeks.

Germany had forgotten how any times he had walked into a room when Italy was stark naked. Usually, the Italian would yelp, "Germany! D-don't look!" but Germany would just roll his eyes. "We're both male, Italy!" he'd say exasperatedly. It didn't seem such a big issue before but now, something strange was happening to him. Remembering Italy naked sent a strange, flickering fire in his groin and made his knees weak. Then suddenly, the image of Italy naked transformed into Italy naked and writhing under him, calling out his name. "Oh, Germany, t-take me already! Please!"

Suddenly, Germany felt hard bulge in his pants. Damn. His face grew red as he looked downwards. If just thinking about Italy made him hard, it must be really serious. He hesitated for a moment before unzipping and pulling his manhood out. Slowly, he began his hand, rubbing it back and forth. He closed, thinking of Italy. He imagined making love to Italy, thrusting deep into him, embracing him tightly in his arms and whispering into his ears how much he loved him. His hand moved relentlessly and he gave a low moan. He was definitely going to come any second.

I love you, Italy.

Italy watched, open-mouthed, through a keyhole as Germany unzipped his pants and masturbated right in front of his eyes. Italy couldn't believe what he was seeing. He meant to walk straight in but something compelled his to take a peek through the keyhole first before doing so, just in case Germany was busy. Now, he was totally glad he didn't walk in first.

But this isn't better either! Italy thought, blushing. He tried to tear his eyes away but he couldn't help it. The more he watched Germany, the more aware he became of the bulge in his own pants. He had never seen Germany do this before. It was such a dark, secret part of being a guy that Italy felt guilty for intruding this extremely private moment. Italy had never seen those large hands move up and down so slowly and sensually before. Seeing Germany like this made Italy's face burn hotter. He was certainly a very attractive country. Italy shook his head furiously, trying to chase away his perverted thoughts but they swarmed his mind, more prominent than ever. He wanted to be in there with Germany and feel those large hands caressing his body. He had an insane urge to burst into the room right then and kiss Germany and never let go.

Suddenly, Germany's breathing hitched and his body grew rigid. Italy knew what was going to happen next but what he didn't expect was when Germany suddenly opened his mouth and spoke.

"Mein Gott...nnh…Italy…" he whispered.

Italy's eyes widened. Germany was calling his name! He couldn't believe it. He gave a loud gasp and accidentally pushed the door open. There he stood there in shock as Germany promptly came, white stuff dripping from his fingers, a similar expression of shock on his face at the sight of Italy.

There was an awkward pause.

Italy immediately broke the silence by giving out a loud yelp and covering his eyes hastily although it was ironically too late for that. "I'm s-sorry, Germany! I…I didn't mean to interrupt…no! I mean, I…I…" His voice sounded muffled and embarrassed as his face was buried in his hands. Italy swallowed and looked at his feet awkwardly as he heard Germany compose himself. When he heard the man walking closer towards him, Italy stiffened in fright as though he was expecting to be hit.

But Germany just said gently, "Italy, look at me. " He reached up to touch the boy's shoulder and Italy looked up nervously, whispering, "I'm sorry…"

That moment, when Italy was staring up at Germany with all these myriad of emotions on his face, Germany knew he couldn't resist anymore. He felt his body move involuntarily without thinking. All he could think was how much he loved Italy and liked seeing him happy, well and carefree.

Germany leaned forward and kissed Italy on the lips.

Italy was in shock but he didn't resist when Germany deepened the kiss, pulling Italy closer towards him, moulding their bodies together. Italy had no idea that those large, strong hands that could easily assemble a rifle or a grenade could as easily entrap him. Italy's eyes fluttered shut and he slowly kissed back. The kiss with Germany felt so warm, sweet and perfect; a moment in time; exactly how first kisses should be.

When Germany slowly pulled away from Italy, he cupped the boy's face in his hands and gazed into his eyes. Never before had Italy seen those vivid blue eyes so serious and blazing with emotion. Germany leaned close and said in a husky whisper, "All these weeks, I thought I was losing my mind. I couldn't stop thinking about you. But now, I know the reason behind my actions and I really need to tell you. I hope you don't mind."

His breath was warm on Italy's skin. The boy's heart thudded wildly, beating out the seconds that passed by. He felt like they were frozen in time and all he could see was Germany's, beautiful and serious. He leaned forward and pressed his cool lips against Italy's forehead.

"Ich liebe dich, Italy."