Title: Five minutes.
Pairing: One- sided Germany and N Italy.
Rating: T for sexual references but nothing graphic.
Autor: Deezaster82
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Germany blinked twice before opening his eyes fully.
Today was Sunday and, Sunday was Germany's day off, which means that he was less hard on himself that one day of the week and allowed himself to sleep in a bit later in the morning.
His mind awakened quickly and he soon realized his surroundings. First of all, it was sunny outside, he could tell by the thin rays of sun sweeping through, under and over the pale colored curtains.
The bed table alarm clock displayed 08:55 and would not start buzzing before nine O'clock, so much time more he could remain in bed.
It was the 28th December of the year 2009 and the room was cold. The economical situation had obliged the German nation to be careful with his expenses and reduce his energy costs, ignoring his personal comfort for the sake of his country and civilians' well being. It was a necessary discomfort for the nation who wanted to be a reasonable example in front of Europe. He would switch his heaters off everyday at 6 pm, even when the night was very cold.
He didn't feel cold this morning though.
That's when Germany eventually realized.
When he had first awaken, at five O'clock due to his daily habit of waking up at a early hour, he had shivered in his bed and curled into himself to warm up a little, alone in his large cold bed.
He was not alone anymore.
Germany carefully turned around in his bed, toward the uninvited source of warmth who had sneaked up in his bed for some foolish nonsensical reasons.
There was, still soundly sleeping, the little nation of North Italy, in all his naked glory.
The first thing that came to Germany's mind was: ' how can he sleep naked when it's so cold?'
but the truth was that, under the blankets, it wasn't cold at all. The little comfortable nest has been generously warmed by both their bodies.
And Italy's body is always warm.
Germany mentally slapped himself for having that kind of thought about his little friend.
Friend.
That was what Italy was to Germany.
They were friends.
Nothing more.
i He had thought, a long time ago, that they were something else.
A bouquet of red roses had deceived him and made him believe that Italy loved him.
Because he had thought that, somehow and awkwardly, they had confessed their love for each other, the German nation had believed Italy and him to be established lovers and had covered the city Venice with thousand of flowers.
He had been the happiest nation in the universe for one whole week until reality awakened him.
Italy refused the tomato-shaped engagement ring.
Italy refused his love.
It had been as if the ground had suddenly collapsed under his feet, the planet wanting to swallow him whole. Never before had Germany felt so broken!
And that strange vision of a past he couldn't remember, so confusing that he soon decided to ignore it.
The past was the past, there was no need to rummage through the dust that had settled for so long already.
After that disastrous day, their relations went back like before, just as if the incident never happened. Italy soon forgot and they never ever talked about it.
Germany was thankful for that.
Italy never changed his behavior toward Germany, he kept hugging and kissing him whenever he wanted, he continued to sneak next to him in bed, he continued to tell him that he loved him.
But then, Germany knew that those attentions were only a show of Italy's innocent feelings , a simple expression of friendship.
And nothing else!
With the time passing, the blond haired nation had resigned himself to the situation and had accepted it for what it was.
He had given up the hope that Italy would ever return his feelings, telling himself that he could be happy only by watching Italy live, laugh and be happy, even if it was not with him.
Until now, Germany never had to be jealous, because Italy never dated anyone. He flirted with Girls but never did more than that. Other nations tried to seduce him where Germany has failed -even his own traitor of a brother, Prussia!- But Italy always turned a deaf ear to them.
It seemed like Italy's heart was forever closed.
And Germany knew, because of the those times he had to shake his friend out of nightmares that had made him sobs loudly in his sleep.
Germany knew because Italy eventually told him about his first love, The Holy Roman Empire. The one who loved him so much, but not enough to stay.
The one who made him a promise but never came back.
'You remind me so much of him!' Italy has told Germany. 'But you are not him.'
And, in his mind, Germany had made up the words. 'You are not the one I love.'
And he accepted it.
They were friends, nothing more.
But nothing less
And Germany could be happy with that./i
Germany snapped off of his thoughts and watched the clock.
It was now 08:57 and Germany had only three minutes left before the alarm awakened his unexpected guest.
Three minutes left.
To watch Italy's peaceful sleeping face, his thin lips slightly pulled at the corner of his mouth in the shadow of a smile, his curl of hair bouncing slowly with the rhythm of his breathing.
Long lashes resting under closed eyelids that concealed the two most beautiful honey colored eyes Germany had ever seen.
Lower, a tender neck, looking ever so fragile, the curve of a clavicle, the sight was soon cut by the fabric of bedsheets, leaving the rest of his body to the observer's imagination.
But Germany didn't need to use his imagination to know how his friend was like under the blanket.
He knew all the details of his body by heart, all the shades, the curves and the lines. Italy's notions of decency were nonexistent, much to Germany's chagrin in their past.
Thinking about Italy's body irremediably reminded him of that famous or infamous day of September 1943.
That one time they had been closer than any friends could be, while being enemies at the same time.
i The allies had taken over South Italy. But it was more of an invitation than anything, since Romano had welcomed them with open arms!
Anything to see that potato bastard defeated! Romano had stated before signing an alliance with the allies.
He had signed in behalf of his young brother, the Italian peoples had revolted against Italy's boss and thrown him in jail. Veneziano had been forced to break his alliance with Germany, despite of himself . He had not even been aware of the new situation before 'that' day.
Worried about the allies' presence in Southern Italy, Germany's boss had ordered him to take over North Italy. In other words, to invade him.
As a nation, Germany couldn't, even if he had wanted, refuse or disobey his boss's orders.
Dread at heart, he had marched past Italy's border onward to Venice.
He had hated himself so much when he had seen Veneziano's smile fading and his mouth tremble slightly.
Italy had not fought him, he had not resisted, he had let him in his house.
Germany had pressed his body against his, saying he was sorry.
Italy had not even struggled to get free.
Only a few tears had ran along his beautiful face. He had simply closed his eyes and whispered:
-" I understand"
In a surreal silence, only troubled by whispers and small cries, Germany had invaded Italy. It has been horrible and wonderful at the same time.
Germany had been very careful not to hurt his little friend, he had done his best to make it enjoyable for the both of them.
Italy had even encouraged him, helped him to get rid of the guilt.
' It's ok" He had whispered between moans of genuine pleasure. " I like Germany"
It would have been the best moment of their life if only it has not been forced on them. Italy had been beautiful when lost in bliss but he didn't love Germany.
Germany had never felt so good in all his life, being able to love Italy with all his mind and with all his body.
But he had not done this for the love of him, he had only followed an order! /i
It was their first time, and their last.
They didn't see each other for a long time after that night. Germany lost the war and was isolated from his brother and his friends. The allies settled in his house and, even though most of them had left now, America was still camping in his yard.
The first years after the war, Germany was forced to disarm his country, sign papers that diminished him greatly and, on top of that, he was forced to eat the food England prepared for him.
He had missed Italy's pasta dearly!
But soon, he and Italy met again and, as if nothing had happened at all, they reaffirmed their friendship and become allies again during the cold war.
Now, more than sixty years had passed and nothing had changed between them.
They had worked on many projects, built a lot of cars together and even made a cultural alliance.
Their relation had suffered no breakdown and they kept hanging out with each other on a regular basis.
They were still very close friends!
Some days, like today, Germany would wake up to a (naked!) sleeping Italy next to him.
It was now 09:00 and the alarm went off.
Two mildly surprised honey-colored orbs stared at him in post awakening haze.
Their beauty was so precious at this instant that Germany felt like the luckiest nation on Earth.
-" Morning', Germany!"
-" Morgen, Italy"
He soon found himself with his arms full of naked italian.
-" Do we have to get up now?"
Germany gently closed his arms around his friend.
-' Nein"
Einde.