Inspired by my cat comforting my brother's puppy when she was having a bad dream.
Nightmare
Italy didn't consider himself a slave to routine. Even though Germany would get upset and yell at him whenever he showed up late or skipped out on training altogether, the auburn-haired nation couldn't bring himself to care. He liked sometimes staying in for breakfast or skipping down to the coffee shop; he liked sometimes stopping to pick flowers or chat with pretty girls; he liked sometimes taking a siesta or going into town for the afternoon. Every day was a little bit different, and Italy was happy to have variety.
But even amongst the random variables of his day, one aspect never changed – that Germany would go to bed at exactly 10:00 in the evening and, once Italy was sure he was asleep, he'd get into bed next to him and sail off into a dreamland of his own. And Italy's dreams were practically never sad nowadays, so the Italian always had something to look forward to.
The night had started off normal enough – at about 10:30 PM Italy started hearing gentle breathing coming from Germany's room. A smile stretched on the Italian's face as he tiptoed into their bedroom, the door creaking softly open. With the bright moon's light filling the room, Italy could see the outlines and shadows on everything.
Quickly discarding his clothes, Italy slipped into the sheets from the foot of Germany's bed and wriggled his way to the opening at the top. A steady heat slowly engulfing him from the comforter, he turned his body to face Germany.
…There we go…
As much as Italy enjoyed his dreams, this was his favorite part of every night. Tonight was especially kind to him, as it had thoughtfully decided to highlight over the German's already stunning physique with shades of blue and silver. Every memorized curvature in his muscles, from the bridge of his nose to the forceps of his arms, was accented so beautifully…
But the best part of Germany's sleeping was the look of angelic tranquility about his face. Italy could tell the stress of the day haunted his ally from the moment he woke up to the moment he fell asleep again. Had the Germanic nation not openly expressed his displeasure of the idea of taking a nap, Italy would have highly recommended he take a siesta every day or two. Because in his sleep, Germany was relaxed. He was in his own, peaceful world.
Oh, how Italy wished he could be a part of that world…
Italy stretched back, waiting for an opening in Germany's sleeping form. Germany would often move a little in his slumber, stretching out his limbs so that Italy could seize his chance to cuddle next to him.
Instead, after a few minutes, Germany curled in on himself, clenching his fists together. Italy tensed slightly. Germany doesn't do that. The regularity of the German's breathing was slowly disintegrating as well, replaced by jagged gasps and sniffles and oh Dio, he started trembling…
Italy opened his eyes, immediately noticing a contorted expression on Germany's normally calm sleeping face. He felt the German kick his feet slightly as he curled in tighter upon himself. A low, sad whine rattled in his friend's chest, and in the bright light, he could see a star at the corner of his ally's eye.
Was Germany crying?
Immediately, Italy sat up and began rubbing Germany's shoulder, rocking him slightly. Waking people up from nightmares should be slow and gentle, right? "Sssshhh," Italy murmured as a soft sob escaped from his ally's mouth. "Wake up, Germany. Ve~ come on. Wake up, please."
Germany's eyes flashed open, the force of the nightmare catapulting him into a sitting position. Italy backed away slightly, still in awe that his ally was crying. "Ve~ you're awake! It's okay, Germany. Don't cry; I'm here for you!"
The blond turned to face the brunet, a grimace that combined relief and embarrassment crossing his features. Italy was half expecting to be kicked out of the bed and sent into his own (cold and empty) room, but instead the German reached out a large, gentle hand to stroke his hair on the side without the curl, his grimace melting into a smile and a soft sigh escaping his lips. "Italy…"
The Italian was suddenly thankful for the lighting. If the German noticed how much he was blushing at that moment, he wasn't sure how, exactly, he'd react. Nevertheless, he pushed his head softly against the warmth of his hand, reaching his own arm around Germany's back. "Did Germany have a nightmare?" he asked.
"Yes," he answered, his baritone much gentler, more relaxed than normal, "I did. But it is over now, and reality has never looked nicer."
"I never thought I'd see the day you'd have a nightmare, Germany!" Italy babbled, his voice quickly assuming its usual volume. "I guess I always figured you weren't afraid of anything. I can't even imagine what would make you start crying in your sleep!"
Germany tilted his head downwards, his tiny smile melting into a frown. "Everyone has fears, Italy. Some of us are just better at hiding it."
The Italian tilted his head. "What on earth did you dream about… to make you cry like that?"
"You would probably think it is stupid," his ally grunted.
A pause. Italy tilted Germany's chin to face him, barely hearing his ally as he spluttered a little in surprise at the gesture. With utmost seriousness, Italy murmured, "I'd never think something that makes you so sad or scared is stupid, Ludwig."
Germany smiled softly at Italy's use of his human name. "I know." Italy's expression softened in the moonlight. "Either way, I do not wish to think of my nightmare right now." At that, Italy looked down, feeling somewhat defeated. Noticing his ally deflate, Germany returned Italy's gesture of tilting his chin up to face him. "I would rather focus on here." Italy felt the gentleness of Germany's hand in his hair again. "…On now."
Shivers ran up Italy's back. Before Germany could move, the smaller nation pressed his lips up to his.
The kiss was chaste, gentle, and a little clumsy. Butterflies took wing in Italy's stomach, kicking up a happy fog that temporarily blocked rational thought. Italy could feel Germany return it shyly, heat radiating from his face, clearly not expecting Italy to have been the one to initiate it.
Something was strangely familiar about this kiss. These sensations. His reaction…
No matter how many years pass, you will always be the one I love most.
Italy smiled into the kiss. He had changed so much, but at the same time, he hadn't changed at all. Joy flowed through the Italian's being, relief that he had been staying faithful this whole time and that he no longer had to worry about falling for his best friend.
When the kiss was broken, Italy gave Germany a content smile which the German immediately returned. "Ve~ you don't have to tell me if you don't want."
Germany looked away a little, frowning again, before finally sighing. Italy tensed. He knew what that sigh meant. He scooted closer to Germany, looking at him expectantly.
"I… dreamt that you did not remember me."
Italy blinked. Wow, talk about irony. "You did?"
"Ja. My entire house was empty: no chatter, no music, no pots boiling in the kitchen. At first I was pleased to get peace and quiet, but my home quickly felt empty. So I went to pay you a visit in your home, in Italy, and you were… terrified of me."
Italy placed his hand on Germany's. He continued, "When you ran away from me once, I followed you. I needed to know why you had forgotten me, why you felt the need to stay as far away from me as possible. When I finally caught up to you, you yelled at me, tears in your eyes, a-and—"
"And what?"
"…Told me you never wanted to see me again."
In order to reassure the German, Italy gave his friend a big hug. With renewed faith in the universe, the Italian answered honestly, "I don't think even amnesia can keep two people apart, ve~. We're the bestest of friends so we'll always find each other again. Won't we, Germany?"
Germany made a sound that was almost a laugh. "Sure, Italy."
Italy smiled and laid down again, chuckling as Germany quickly followed suit, lifting one arm so that the Italian could snuggle next to him. But before Italy could close his eyes, he heard a soft, "Feliciano?"
"Yes, Luddy?"
"I—" Germany broke off for a moment, looking away shyly. Italy would have been beaming if he weren't already half asleep, certain that this had come from calling him 'Luddy.' "I am not a poetic man, nor am I the most socially-oriented person in the world, and I am sure that whatever I say right now will seem stupid, but—"
"You'd be surprised," Italy whispered.
Germany took a deep breath. He paused for a moment and murmured, "…Y-you mean so much to me."
"So do you to me, Germany."
Italy curled closer to the German's body and was pleasantly greeted by the sensation of a heavy arm blanketing across his chest. "Oh, and Germany~?"
"Yes?"
"If any nightmare tries to sneak up on you and make you sad again, don't worry. I promise to protect you!"
Germany chuckled sleepily, holding the Italian a little tighter. "Of course you will."
For a while Italy simply enjoyed the feeling of being held by his best friend – his only love – as the moon fell over the horizon. It was very late, almost 11:20, when the regularity of Germany's breathing indicated that he was sleeping again. Italy cracked open one eye, noting the gentle smile that played on Germany's lip. After a moment, Italy felt Germany involuntarily pull him closer, humming contentedly in his slumber.
Soon, Italy felt the relaxing force of sleep begin to overtake him. "I'll make sure no nightmares get you, Germany," he yawned, feeling himself fading fast from the waking world. "After all, you once promised me the same thing."
~ Nightmare ~
"D-don't cry…. It's okay. It was just a dream, is all."
"Holy R-Rome— I— eeeeehhh! It was s-s-so awful!"
A bed creaking from new weight. The shuffling of sheets. "Ssssshhhhh…"
Sniffle. "Hmmmn?"
"You're safe…"
"…Holy Rome…"
"From now on, I'll protect you from nightmares. Okay?"
"…Okay."
Fluffy fluff is fluffy, I believe, is the moral of this story. I'm sorry to have assaulted your souls like that.
Reviews are always loved. Thank you so much for reading.