Germany gulped. He slightly loosened his strict necktie only to make it tighter than before. The tall, muscular blonde was sweating bullets. He'd been in many wars, fought countless amounts of soldiers head on with no fear, but now the German was absolutely terrified. He was about to face one of his greatest fears, confessing his feelings for Italy.
At times, it seemed like Italy returned to affections or dropped hints. But the Italian had always been an odd spectacle, so Germany could never really tell what the other was thinking when it came to these matters.
He'd thought about this for such a long time now, he even read a few books on dating advice but using these tactics on the auburn-haired Italian was just as confusing to Feliciano as it was to Ludwig for attempting them. But a man can only take so much, and he was at his limit!
Hard as it had been to first admit to himself, he was in love. In love with Feliciano Vargas, the representation of Northern Italy. Despite keeping a brave face, the German was positively terrified of how he felt. He'd never ever felt like anyone else like this before, let alone a nation and close friend.
He continued to pace back and forth in his bedroom. He knew that Italy would be coming over later for a friendly visit, not that it mattered, the Italian had a somewhat annoying yet somewhat cute way of just popping up in the kitchen and making pasta when Ludwig got home.
He blushed just thinking about seeing the other, wearing nothing but a frilly pink apron while loudly singing a cheery tune and stirring the pasta. Another unnervingly cute habit of Feliciano was his constant lack of pants and even more, his lack of care for the fact that he wore none.
Germany had despised it at first, thinking it was so foreign a taboo to easily perform whether in one's house or not (because Italy had a habit of forgetting his pants outside too). Of course Germany had grown use to this, but he still yelled at Feliciano for it being improper. Though nowadays, it was mostly to avoid Germany subconsciously pitching a tent in his pants.
Suddenly he heard the soft click of a door opening and then closing. "Hey, Germany, I'm baaacck!~" Italy called from the front of the home. Germany, who was in the bedroom, blushed profusely. Should he confess now? Or no, maybe later…what about after dinner? "J-ja, welcome back…" He continued awkwardly pacing in his own bedroom, making Italy cock his head in curiosity.
"Ve, Germany, what are you doing?" "O-oh nothing just…thinking…" "Oh, ok!" The Italian seemed satisfied with the vague answer. "Ve~, I'll be in the kitchen making pasta!" He told the other and went to the kitchen to do so.
Germany finally let out a breath that he had not realized he'd been holding. Ok, so definitely tonight. After dinner, Italy was pretty much always happy, but he was even happier after a nice bowl of pasta.
VEVEVEVEVEVEVEVEVEVEVEVEVEVE VEVEVEVEVEVEVEVEVEVEVEVEVEVE ~~~
After dinner, Germany complimented Italy on his wonderful cooking as always. Italy, as always, thanked Germany for the compliment, said he was welcome, and took the empty plates to the sink, mumbling to himself about how it would soon be time to take a siesta.
"Uhm…Italy…" Germany began and stood up, walking closer to the smaller Italian at the sink.
"Ve~?" The other inquired. Germany silently gulped as his clammy hands reached out and wrapped around the other's waist, pulling Feliciano to the German in a tight embrace.
Italy blinked, slightly confused by the motion, happy, but confused. "Ve, Germany, what are you doing? I thought you didn't like hugs."
"V-vell normally I don't care much for the feeling (because even hugs were still a rather foreign affection to him), but I have something very important to tell you…Feliciano…"
Italy actually opened his eyes in surprise. They almost never used their human names when speaking each to each other even when they were alone. Whatever Germany had to say it must be really very important.
"Yes…L-ludwig?" The name sounded strange rolling off the Italian's tongue. But it made Germany shiver, had the other actually ever used the German's human name before?
Before the German began, Italy wriggled in his grasp until he was turned completely around and able to look the German in the eyes while they spoke, though also noticing how incredibly close their faces were.
"I-I…." Germany flushed profusely; the little Italian in his arms had his big beautiful brown eyes open and staring dead at him. The weaker nation's simple gaze made him feel incredible weak, especially in his knees, though of course he did not show it. "I…."
German mentally kicked himself for stuttering, but this was probably the scariest moment of his life and he was afraid of what might happen.
"Italy, please, I can't take it anymore..." He finally was able to find the words. "I need to know exactly how you feel about me."
Italy looked like a deer in head lights with a face tinted with pink. "W-what do you mean Germany? You're my friend and I care about you." He was confused by what the other really meant, Germany had been afraid of that but it was now or never.
"No Italy. I vant to know if you feel the same way that I do, about you." "And how does Germany feel about me?" "Like this…"
Germany placed a large, gloved hand on Feliciano's cheek, leaned down to the other's level and kissed him very gently on the lips. He pulled back after a moment staring at the other, waiting for a reaction as the sound of his own throbbing heartbeat banged in his ears.
"That is how I feel about Italy. I like you…more than an ally or even more than a friend. I'm…in love, with you Feliciano…"
Before Feliciano could react to the overflow of information, the German's lips were planted over his once more. This time more passionately.
Ludwig could feel himself losing control as he assaulted those virgin, angel soft lips. His hands roaming around the other's lithe body while still somewhat holding him close. He slid his tongue along Feliciano's lips, denied entrance until he squeezed Italy's pert butt cheeks, causing the other to gasp and giving the German access for further exploration.
Italy couldn't contain a choked moan as a lecherous tongue was thrust into his mouth and his best friend was feeling him up. Italy would be lying if he said he hadn't thought about this before. But every time he thought about it, it was painful because he didn't think the other would reciprocate his feelings and worse yet, because he was still holding out for someone.
Feliciano mustered up some uncharacteristic strength and barely managed to push the hungry German off him. "No!" He suddenly cried, starting to shake. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and Germany just stood stunned. "V-vhat?"
"I said no Ludwig!" He shouted at the other, tears welling in his beautiful, sad eyes. Oh Gott no, please, not tears. Was Italy really that disgusted with how Ludwig felt? "Italy I-"
"I'm sorry Ludwig…" Italy began, cutting the other off. "But I can't return your feelings. I just can't…"
Germany felt his heart snap in two. He had known rejection was likely but in the back of his mind, he'd prayed to every kind of God that the other would accept his feelings. But it seems that some things really are impossible.
"I…understand…" He held his head down and spoke quietly. "But vhy…?" He actually didn't mean to ask, it just popped out.
"Why…?" Italy spoke. "Because, I'm in love with someone else…" "Who?" Who could possibly hold the little Italians heart?
"Holy Rome…" Italy answered in a whisper. Germany's face went blank and after a little awkward silence, Germany finally spoke again. "Holy Rome…Holy-, you mean Holy Rome as in the Holy Roman Empire?"
Italy averted his eyes and nodded. Germany's expression turned and he started laughing. It was strangely maniacal and uncharacteristic of him. He remembered Italy told him once before that his first love had been a boy when he was younger, but he had no idea that Italy was talking about the Holy Roman Empire.
"Vhat kind of answer is that?! The Holy Roman Empire perished more than 2 thousand years ago!" Germany felt his breathing getting ragged, what was this? This overwhelming anger bubbling up inside of him?
"He promised he'd come back for me…" Italy spoke quietly, frightened by the other's sudden burst of anger. He was use to Germany getting angry at him but this was completely different.
"Italy, the Holy Roman Empire is dead! And he has been for avile now, and he von't be coming back!" Germany hadn't meant to come off so harshly.
"Stop lying! I don't care what they said, I know that one day he will come back for me, just like he promised! And I'll wait another 1,000 years and longer if I have to, I'd wait forever for him. I-"
"Italy how can you be so stupid? Sometimes I question is there is anything in that head of yours other than pasta and sleeping! Why am I not good enough? Why am I not better than him? One who left you all alone to try and became the most powerful nation fight in a war he knew he could not win, that's how The Great Rome died!"
"Don't you dare bring Grandpa Rome into this! Grandpa Rome and Holy Rome are two completely different people!"
"That's not the point-"
"The point is that I love him and I still do and Germany is being dumb and scary and yelling at me for no reason!"
"Of course I yell because I actually care! I care for you more than anyone! And I put up with the whining and the crying and the public and indoor nudity and the constant surrendering and constant pasta and flirtation with women and skipping out on training and-!"
"If I'm that much of a burden then why do you care? I don't believe you Germany, you don't make any sense!"
"Because I love you! I don't know vhen but I started to care for you a long time ago and it's gotten stronger every day since. I'm at my vits end…" He sighed, finally sounding a little calmer. "Please Italy…I'm sorry for yelling, I'm sorry for saying hurtful things…I just don't understand…why am I not better than him? I know he promised, Italy, and I know how much you care, but he really won't be coming back. But I am here Italy. I am here for you…" Germany sighed and rested his head on the cupboard above Italy.
Feliciano was stunned once again as silent tears fell down his cheeks. "I-I know…" He finally broke the silence and slipped to the floor, holding himself and trying not to cry.
"I know Germany I know…I know I'm very annoying and a big pain, I know you love me, I know you want to take care of me, and that makes me so happy. I know but…but…" He sniffled.
"I have felt the same about Germany for awhile too. But ever since Holy Rome left, I promised myself that day that I'd wait for him and that no one would take his place in my heart. But…recently I've felt it. Germany has been filling that place in my heart. Germany has taken Holy Rome's place." He sobbed.
"But I don't want to replace Holy Rome! I love him, and I love you too! I know he's gone, but I want to keep some part of him alive, and his promise…I know it's impossible, but somewhere deep down, I still have a small hope that maybe someday he will come back for me, just like he promised."
Italy rubbed his puffy eyes and Germany just listened. He knew how the other felt. All he wanted to do was hold Italy and hug him and never let him go. But Italy obviously didn't want that. And he wouldn't force Italy. He'd already hurt him enough.
Germany sighed and stepped away from Feliciano. Once more, he needed to be told only once more. And then he would give up on Italy forever.
"Italy…please answer me zhis…Am I better? Or razher, vill I ever be better than him?" The quietly crying brunette blinked at the question and sniffled a little. His silence said it all, it said the words that Germany already knew were true. Italy cared deeply for Germany, he really did. But he just couldn't except his love. He'd waited so long for Holy Rome. If he just…gave up now, it would make all of those years of loneliness and naïve hope would have been spent in vain.
"No Germany…Ludwig. I'm sorry, but you're not better. And you never will be…"
The taller blonde nation solemnly nodded his head in understanding. "I see…zhen…I'm so sorry, about before. I…I'm going to leave for a bit and clear my mind. It may take some time but I'll eventually get over you I suppose und someday our friendship could return to being platonic…" With that he turned on his heel and headed towards the door. He promptly left and didn't return to his home for quite some time. He just couldn't. Not when it held so many memories of him and Italy. He still heard Italy's words in his head, haunting him like a ghost.
"No Germany…Ludwig. I'm sorry, but you're not better. And you never will be…"