Germany x Italy one-shot

Ich Liebe Dich?

Italy was walking back in fourth in his house, waiting for the pasta to be done. He ate pasta to relieve stress sometimes, and this was one of those times.

"I want to confess to Germany that I love him, but I just don't know how!" He thought aloud.

Little did he know, America was listening. How did he even get into the house?

"I know how, Italy~" he sang making Italy jump.

"H-how did you get here?" Italy stuttered.

"Simple, I walked." America circled around Italy, a smirk plastered on his face. "But the point is, I heard what you said. And I know how."

Italy backed away, still startled that America had just "appeared" in his house. But he was desperate at this point, even for America's advice. "What can I do?"

"Well first, I want some of that pasta."

Italy nodded, soon retrieving the pasta from the oven as the timer beeped. "Here," he said, handing America a bowl of pasta. "Now what can I do?"

America shoveled in the entire bowl of pasta like it was only one spoonful. "Learn some German!" He said, mouth still full.

Italy tilted his head. "What should I learn in German? What would I say?"

"Ich liebe dich. It means 'I love you.' Now you try."

"U-uh," Italy tried to say it, only failing miserably.

"That's okay, that's okay. Practice makes perfect. Just try again."

For the rest of the night, only pausing for pasta breaks, Italy practiced and practiced until he finally got it. It was 11:00 pm.

"Ich liebe dich!" Said Italy.

America gasped. "You did it!" He mumbled, mouth full of pasta from his 6th bowl. "Say it again"

"Ich liebe dich! Ich liebe dich! Ich liebe dich Ich liebe dich Ich liebe dich!" Italy repeated.

America laughed triumphantly, while ruffling Italy's hair. "You've got it!" Well, my work here is done." He got up and headed toward the door. "Bye, Italy!"

"Bye, America! Thank you!" He said as America closed the door. Italy smiled to himself as he headed to bed. "Ich liebe dich." He whispered.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-Time Skip-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The next morning, Italy awoke to the chirps of the birds. He stretched. "Today is the day!" He said.

He repeated the saying in his head over and over again as he called Germany. Finally, Germany picked up.

"Italy?" He said.

"Yes! Hello Germany. I have something to say, so can you please come over my house?" Italy said, trying to contain his excitement.

"Sure. I'll be right there." *click*

Italy hung up, and rushed towards the door to wait. Soon, Germany opened the door. "Italy? What is it?" He said, before chuckling a little. "You're still in your pajamas!"

Italy widened his eyes, biting his lip in embarrassment. "Oh, it's just I was so excited..."

"No, it's fine, really. Now what do you have to say?" He said, still chuckling.

"Oh, it's just that ICH LIEBE DICK!!!" He said happily.

"Eh? I don't think I heard you right." Said Germany.

"ICH LIEBE DICK!" Shouted Italy.

Germany widened his eyes in surprise, the burst out laughing. "Y-you love- BWAHHAHAHA!"

Italy was hurt. He stayed up all night, just to be laughed at. "What's so funny?" He said, tearing up.

Germany stopped laughing, seeing that Italy was tearing up. "Sorry, Italy. It's just I wouldn't think that you'd tell me you love dick in German."

"Excuse me?"

"You said 'Ich liebe dick'."

Italy froze. "Oh... I meant to say something else..."

Germany smiled. "Was it 'Ich liebe dich?'"

Italy nodded ashamed. "You should go..." He mumbled.

"No, no! Let me tell you something first." Germany cleared his throat. "It's that, ti amo."

Italy gasped. "That's Italian for-"

"I love you." Germany finished, pulling Italy into a deep hug. Italy laughed, hugging back.

"Ich liebe dich."