Sleeping GerIta one-shots

The Morning After the First Time

After their first time, waking up in the morning, Germany had very nearly been sick.

He had rushed to collect clothes, his heart hammering frantically, terrified to wake Italy up. He had stumbled with one leg in his pants, arms half-in his shirt, the tail caught in the waistband and he very nearly fell over, unwilling to slow down a moment though. But while hopping around struggling to straighten out his garments in his haste, he knocked over a chair and lost his balance, trying to catch himself on the table, but his hand slipped off the cloth and he sent the whole ensemble, and himself with it, crashing to the floor.

And naturally, it was then that Italy's sleepy head had popped lazily up from among the pillows and sheets on the bed, drowsily trying to ask what was going on.

"Uh, it is nothing, please, go back to sleep!" Germany tried to gracefully return to his feet, but it was proving impossible, with his legs tangled up in furniture and cloth.

"Germany? Why are you on the floor?" Italy rose from the bed and, upon noticing Germany's half-dressed state sprawled on the ground, attempted to help him up, but was waved off by a beet-red German. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine, h-honestly!"

"Well, at least sit on the bed and finished getting dressed before you flee from the room, leaving me behind," Italy replied, stooping to pick his own clothes up off the floor and put them back on.

"Oh, Italy, no, it isn't like that, I was just –"

Italy silenced him with a kiss to his shoulder, Germany never looking more stressed than in that moment.

"Germany, it is fine, I get it. You don't have to panic, no need to be embarrassed or upset." Italy helped untangle Germany's shirt, finally slipping it up over his shoulders for him, straightening it out and continuing the action, rubbing along his shoulders as he waited for the other man to catch his breath and finally relax into the touches after several minutes of massaging.

"Nothing has to have changed between us, not if you don't want to, okay?" Italy whispered, resting his head on the strong shoulder in front of him. "We are fine."

"You are sure?" Germany asked, just as quietly.

"Of course."

They were both quiet for a moment, then Germany offered into the air, "I wouldn't mind if things were to change, actually.... Because... because I really do care for you, Italy. And I don't want it to have been for just one night, either...."

Carefully, Italy turned him to face him, looking into his soft eyes with a smile.

"I care for you too," he returned. "So, don't run off, and let's make breakfast – sound good, you silly, silly man?"

This kiss was on the lips.