Sleeping GerIta one-shots

Possessive, Reassurance

I wouldn't tell him – I didn't have to, either, because I'm sure he knew – but I was a possessive man, a bit by nature. I couldn't help it, I had centuries of insecurities bearing down on me, a millennium of changing borders and changing family members, and the past few decades were only so stable in comparison. Not to mention that everyone could see he was an attractive man, and he drew the eye of every person we would pass on the streets, and without even trying or sometimes even being aware of it, he flirted each time he opened his mouth or flashed his smile or caught someone with his beautiful brown eyes.

So, yes, I was a little possessive of him, a little unwilling to let him out of my sight, a slight tendency to hold onto him tighter, and glare at those who stopped to talk to him when we were out in public.

And, I'm sure he knew all of this. He gave me endless reassurances, and he was a master of casually slipping in constant references to his German boyfriend whenever I wasn't physically there myself. And when I was there, I was hardly the only one holding tight to the other.

The best was when we were home though. At home, it was just us, and I didn't have anyone else I needed to worry about stealing my Feliciano's attention away from me. We spent every second together, always in the same room as each other, even if we were not doing the same thing as one another, or at the very least we were within calling distance, only a moment away.

Above all though was at night. When Feliciano would slip into my bed, covered in my flag, and just let me drink in the sight of him. Mein Gott, few looked as good in black, red, and gold....

And when I would join him in bed and wrap him in my strong arms, his slight chest against my broad one, breathing in and out in sync with him – nothing feels as good as that. My love, in my colors, in my protection: this is the greatest reassurance in the world, and sets my worrying, possessive heart at ease.