Here is the second oneshot for the GerIta series! Also, if you have any requests, please feel free to ask me! I ship just about every pairing in Hetalia (Except for ones involving Germany and Italy with other people) so don't be afraid to ask!

Hands are Interesting

Germany sat down on the couch, looking forward to finally relaxing by reading a nice book after a long day of work. It wasn't that it was hard, more that there had just been a lot of paperwork to fill out, and then he had had to deal with his boss's rant about this and that. Germany was tired of dealing with other people, so for the time being he simply wanted to lose himself in Steppenwolf*.

He had just gotten to the second chapter when he heard the pitter-patter of small feet from behind him. Germany decided that it probably wasn't that important and just continued reading (It was a really good book). He didn't look up when the feet were in front of him, and he didn't even look up when there was sudden added weight to the seat beside him. In fact, Germany didn't pay any attention the figure sitting by him.

That is, until the figure decided to remedy that.

Germany was only using one hand to prop the book open and flip the pages, leaving the other to simply rest by his side. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a slim, tan hand reach out and grip his own large, pale hand tightly. Germany liked the warmth that it provided, but didn't ponder it past that point. This, apparently, wasn't what the person had wanted, and they began to stroke small circles on the back of Germany's large hand with their comparably small thumb.

It was at this point that Germany looked over, just for a second, at his couch partner. Of course, it was Italy. He had recognized him by the color and shape of his hand. That was why he hadn't pushed the hand off- Germany wanted to not hurt his lover's feelings. And, well, the gentle strokes he was rubbing into his hand felt really good.

Germany expected Italy to let go of his hand once he had gotten the larger nation's attention, but this proved to be incorrect. When he looked at his lover's face, Germany was confused by the fascination that he saw there. Italy usually had a smile on his face, or a laugh on his lips, but this was an expression that Germany had rarely seen before. It was the look that Italy reserved for things like a new type of pasta, a magnificent piece of art newly created, or beautiful sunsets that left the world breathless. Germany never thought that he would see that lovely look directed towards him.

Germany wanted to say something, wanted to ask what intrigued Italy so much, but the words died in his throat before he could say them. The reason for this being that Italy had flipped their hands over so that they were palms up, and had begun to trace the lines on Germany's palm, awe still written clearly across his face. The chocolate brown eyes were shining with love and amazement, and his wayward auburn curl was curled into a heart (Germany idly wondered somewhere off in the recesses of his mind how it was able to do that). Italy seemed heavily intent on...whatever it exactly was he was doing, and Germany couldn't bring himself to interrupt what was going on inside of his mind since he looked so *Deep breathe, Germany*...cute. He was downright adorable to Germany, and at the same time he was incredibly handsome. The blond nation couldn't decide whether he was upset that someone could be both, instead of the usual one, or happy that this joyful person was his. So he settled for absolutely blanking of emotion as he stared at Italy, who glanced up at him after another minute of this routine.

"What is it, Germany?" Italy inquired, gazing up at him in a way that left his eyelashes framing his eyes, and Germany couldn't help internally comparing him to a kitten. Even if Germany was more of a dog person himself, he couldn't help but think that it was, once again, adorable. (Germany would never admit any of this out loud; he just knew that Prussia would tease him for the rest of eternity if he knew his brother had such a soft spot for cute things *Usually Italy is the only cute thing, but if Germany spots a puppy odds are that he would grin wider than a child at Christmas.*.)

Coming back to earth, Germany managed to not stutter his question. "I was just wondering what you are doing?"

Hearing this, Italy smiled, and giggled softly. "I'm looking at your hand Germany!"

The Aryan nation resisted the urge to groan out of mild frustration at his lover and instead clarified his point. "I mean, why are you doing that?"

Italy tilted his head to the side (Now he looks like a puppy!) and smiled like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Because hands are interesting! Especially your hands, Germany."

"...What?" Germany asked, not really knowing what to make of Italy's answer. Hands are interesting? But they're just appendages, just something on the ends of everyone's arms that allowed them to do things. Some people didn't even have hands, due to one thing or another. Sure, it was sad when that happened, but other than that Germany didn't really see anything special about hands at all.

Seeing that his lover didn't understand his meaning, Italy sighed and tried to explain. "Yes, hands are very interesting! They tell us so many things about the people they belong to! Like how much work they do, what type of work they do, if they're artistic, if they're neat and tidy, if they're strong or not, and many other things! They tell us stories about that person's life, like if they have a bunch of little scars along their fingers like this," Here Italy held up his right hand to Germany's eye-level, and Germany was able to see that Italy had a lot of tiny scars all around the edges of his fingers. "That means they cook a lot! Because even people with lots of practice can still be burned sometimes, and beginners are even more prone to accidently burn themselves! And if they have callouses on their pointer and middle fingers, that means that they likely play an instrument! And sometimes you're able to tell what people might be good at based on their hands. Like people with long fingers are more likely to do well at playing the piano, and people with wide hands are more likely to be strong and well balanced. There are just an extraordinary amount of things that hands can tell us!"

Germany was slightly stunned by Italy's passionate speech (Usually he only talked that passionately either when he wanted pasta, wanted to stop training to take a siesta, or if he was trying to convince Germany to do something with him.), but at the same time he realized that it made a lot of sense. Hands did tell a lot about a person. He was proud to say the least that Italy was able to pick up on that. There was one thing still mystifying Germany, however...

"You said that my hands are particularly interesting, Italy," Germany murmurred, unsure of what was going to come from the Italian's mouth next.

Germany's book lay long forgotten on the floor.

Italy smiled happily and nodded, bringing Germany's hand up to his face and planting kisses on it. "Sì! Your hand is so big and warm, so that lets me know that you're strong and that you have a steady body temperature, because you lose heat from your hands, feet, and head. It also has a lot of callouses, from you cleaning, training, and working all the time. That lets me know that you're a hard worker," Here Italy smiled almost cheekily up at Germany. "Although I already knew that. And then, the last reason why I find your hands so interesting is that..." Italy stopped talking, glancing off to the side with a blush on his face before facing Germany once again. Germany wondered what would make Italy do that, especially while they were on such a subject.

Italy gently took both of Germany's hands in his own, cradling them tenderly as if they meant the world to him. "These are your hands. These are the hands that have wiped away my tears, these are the hands that keep me safe, the ones that hold my face tenderly when you kiss me, the ones that grab my waist when you kiss me more. These are the hands of the person I love," Italy smiled blearily up at Germany, eyes glistening from the emotion of the moment. "I love these hands because they're your hands, Germany."

Germany's breathe caught in his throat, and before he knew it he had pulled the other man into his arms and was cradling him, cupping his face in his hands and kissing every part of his face that he could reach. Italy started to giggle, and Germany knew right then that he wasn't going to be reading any more of that book for a while. Which was alright, since Germany didn't really want to read right then anyways.

*A German book that is written by Hermann Hesse. It is a poetical self-portrait that is about a man who felt himself to be half human and half wolf.