[Fanfic] Foto Ricordo - for aoi_aka
Recipient: aoi_aka
Type of Gift: Fanfic
Rating: PG-13
Title: Foto Ricordo
Summary: As a Christmas gift, Japan gives Italy a camera. Italy uses it the best way he knows -to make tons of photos of Germany. GerIta.
I hope this is good! In Italian, 'foto ricordo' is a term for a photo taken to make memories. Just that. ^^
---Foto Ricordo
Christmas was, and it had been for the last decade, quite the busy moment.
If for the rest of the year the ex-Axis Powers barely had time to interact with each other (which, if one allowed Italy to have his way with things, was not the case anyway), Christmas had long since been labelled special occasion.
During the last days of November, both Germany and Japan would receive calls from Italy (he never used mails, they were far too impersonal for him) and he would ask, bubbly and happy, about where they would get together for the year.
Once that detail was settled, Italy started planning out the day, from the kind of food that would be served (he was careful and attentive on that part, always working for days on the menu and preparing food that would satisfy all of them) to the decorations and what they could do during the day.
Germany and Japan were content in letting him do everything, because neither really cared about it all… well, that was a lie -they simply had given up on helping Italy out… his preparations for Christmas were always perfect and he seemed to enjoy doing it anyway.
During the first two weeks of December, Italy would be busy finishing up all his paperwork in order to have the rest of the month free for his usual shopping time with Poland and Hungary; then, he’d use up his mornings to wrap up presents for all nations, and a week prior to Christmas, punctual like a clock, he showed up at either Germany or Japan’s house (depending which one was hosting the party) to finish the preparations.
If they decided to do it at his house, he would not let anyone in during the whole week, not even his own brother (who ended up dropping off at Spain’s house with curses and mutters), expecting his friends to arrive at the prearranged time.
Overly zealous as usual, Italy had curbed his Christmas rituals to perfection, leaving nothing to case.
Christmas 2010 was no exception.
The hosting nation for the year was Germany, and he had already resigned himself to allow Italy free reign of his house (not that it was unusual or anything. If not for the fact that Italy had a house of his own to return to, it often felt like they were living together).
Watching the hyper Italian nation bouncing around, holding piles of decorations and lights, Germany fought the urge to stand up and help him, knowing Italy would not accept it.
“Feliciano…” he cleared his throat, the feeling of being useless creeping up into him, and stared at the other Nation with a creased brow. “Are you sure you don’t need me to-”
“Ve~ Ludwig is nice, but I don’t need your help at all!”
Balancing precariously on a chair, busy attaching strings of lights all over Germany’s walls, on his windows and on his chandelier, Italy smiled happily and continued his work, managing not to fall even once.
It didn’t look like it, but he was a master in decorating Germany’s house.
“You bought another set of lights,” Germany commented after a long glance, hands twitching with the need to stand up and go hold Italy by his sides so he wouldn’t look so close to falling.
“You noticed!” spinning dangerously around and dazzling the blond Nation with a happy smile, Italy waved his arms around and nodded. “It’s a new kind that I bought a few days ago with Feliks! They will look splendid, I promise!”
With a curt nod, Germany busied himself with his glass of eggnog, nose buried in a book so he would not look at Italy anymore.
Every year, despite trying hard to hide it, Germany actually looked forwards to Christmas time.
All his cities were filled with beautiful markets, his boss allowed him to leave his paperwork for later, and when it was his turn to host the party, he liked to stare at Italy bouncing around happily to decorate his house, in a familiar, comfortable fashion.
Yes, Germany liked Christmas.
Maybe a bit too much, because with the festivity, a new need to ensure Italy remained at his side suddenly grew stronger, and the thought always put Germany in a weird, unsettled mood all the same -as if he expected something to happen every year, and that something never did.
“I’ve finished! Ludwig! Ludwig! Please, let’s try the lights now!”
Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Germany looked up; it seemed that while he’d been reading, Italy had finished placing all the new Christmas lights, and had even decorated their Christmas tree (one that Italy had asked Germany to buy a few years before).
The sight was, as expected, splendid, and with a small smile, Germany placed his book down and moved to click the lights off.
As the room fell into darkness and the strings of lights flickered on, their rainbow colours humming beautifully, Germany looked at Italy, enjoying the sight of the lights on him more than the lights themselves.
“Ve~ it’s perfect!” with a satisfied nod, Italy flipped down from the chair, and as if whatever spell he used to be so functional was suddenly broken, he slipped and landed in Germany’s waiting arms. “Ludwig is always there to save me~ hehehe~”
With a small blush, Germany helped Italy up to his feet and shook his head, observing the darkened room now lit up by the dangling lights.
“It’s really Christmas, huh,” he muttered, shaking his head.
As Nations, time moved differently for them, but it was always a surprise when Christmas crept up on him like this, without warning.
“Now let’s go to bed! We need to wake up early, cause Santa is coming!”
“… Feliciano, it’s not even Christmas eve today!”
“Huh? No, but I invited Tino over at lunch tomorrow~”
Momentarily left speechless at Italy’s cheerful reply, Germany scratched the back of his head and shrugged, leaving Italy in the sitting room and moving up to his bedroom.
With a smile, Italy flicked the lights off and followed him upstairs.
…-…-…-…
“Ve~ Ludwig! Buon Natale!”
Germany resurfaced from sleep with a deep, unsatisfied groan.
If there was something that he didn’t like of Christmas morning, it was Italy waking up far too early -earlier than Germany himself was used to- to open up all the gifts.
He had exchanged presents with most of the Nations on Christmas eve, during his yearly trip from house to house, leaving only his brother, Spain, Prussia and Japan for later (as he met with them on Christmas day, after all), so he had quite a few gifts to look forwards to.
With a deep grunt, Germany pushed Italy away from him, ignoring his flailing and sputtering, and tried to hide his face in the pillow.
Even if he was awake already, there was actually a (guilty) reason why he was trying to look asleep (one he would never admit loudly)…
“Ve~ wake up! Wake up!” with a giggle, Italy leaned forwards, and gently pressed a kiss on Germany’s cheek.
Face scarlet, the redness advancing up to his ears, Germany finally gave up and shifted to a sitting position.
“G-guten Morgen, Feliciano,” he replied, allowing himself a pleased smile. “Fröhliche Weihnachten”.
With a happy squeal, Italy launched himself in Germany’s arms, showering him with kisses and demanding some back as well.
“Ah! Look! It snowed tonight! It never snows at my house at Christmas…” with a dazed look, Italy shifted out of the bed and ran to the window, shivering when his naked feet came in contact with the cold floor, and stood still to watch the beautiful scenery outside the window.
Germany had enough time to stand up, put on his slippers, and leave for the bathroom, and only when the door was close behind his back he heard Italy rush around the room to pick up all his scattered clothes and run to his second bathroom.
When he came out, refreshed and properly dressed up, Germany politely waited for Italy to meet up with him, and together they descended downstairs to open up the gifts.
“Oh, West, Feli~! Merry Christmas!”
They were greeted with the sight of Prussia sitting in the middle of a pile of opened up presents, wrapping paper scattered everywhere, smiling expectantly at them.
As Italy left his side to hug and cuddle with Prussia, Germany shook his head, trying not to get headache at the sight; every Christmas morning it was the same, with Prussia and Italy making a mess of his living room…
“Look, isn’t he cute? I had this crafted especially for him!” Prussia was showing Italy his little Gilbird, who was wearing the smallest Santa hat Germany had ever seen.
He looked ridiculously cute, indeed.
Then it was time for present opening, of course -Germany was pleased with Italy’s reaction to his gift (one he’d walked through a lot of markets to find), and was inwardly satisfied with his own gift from Santa (Finland had, once again, brought him dirty magazines, which was good since he’d finished reading the old ones already and he didn’t want to be caught buying some himself).
Italy’s gift to Germany was a watch, especially made by Switzerland, and one that had everything Germany would ever want from a watch -including all the things nobody else ever used- while he gave Prussia a scarf to match one he’d bought for himself.
That, as expected, sent Prussia into a fit of happiness; when he left, right after breakfast, singing some Christmas song at the top of his lungs and directed at France’s house, Germany silently thanked God for having successfully survived another Christmas morning.
With Italy busy finishing up the touches for their lunch, Germany was left with nothing else to do other than go to the sitting room, TV open on some Christmas movie he’d seen thrice already, waiting for the other guests to come.
The first to come were Spain and South Italy, the Spaniard cheerfully leading the other inside, but at least Romano was decent during these festivity, and kept his cursing at a minimum.
“Hola, Ludwig, Feliz Navidad!”
“B-buon Natale, pota-” with a hiss, as Spain had just elbowed him, Romano cleared his throat. “Buon Natale, Ludwig,” he grunted, following that up with a few muttered curses.
With a stoic nod at the pair, Germany led them in and watched, mostly amused, as the two Italian brothers exchanged greetings and curses in a rapid Italian, the younger of the two with a happy, satisfied face, and the other with a less then pleased expression.
Spain stared at the decorations and congratulated Italy for his good work, receiving a kick by Romano for his nice words, and with all the pleasantries, while the two brothers continued their banter in the kitchen, Spain and Germany sat together in the sitting room watching the Christmas movie.
“Ah, I think I’ve seen this one already,” stretching on the sofa, Spain grabbed a magazine from a nearby pile and flicked through it. “We won’t be staying much this year, we have plans for the afternoon”.
“That is entirely fine,” Germany stared unseeingly at the TV. “I must thank you for your present, I hadn’t expected to receive the new model of drill…”
“Don’t even say that… Lovi mentioned you needed one… yes, of course, one had to read in-between his curses… but you can say the idea was his”.
Definitely impressed -he hadn’t known Romano could be this nice to him- Germany relaxed on the armchair, waiting for Japan to arrive.
Japan arrived, as usual, ten minutes prior to midday, arms full of packets and presents, his little Pochi following him, sniffing everywhere and greeting Germany’s dogs by yipping and jumping everywhere, and after a heartfelt greeting, gracefully sat down on the sofa next to Spain.
“Merry Christmas, Antonio-san, Ludwig-san,” smiling softly, Japan offered his gifts to the two Nations.
Just like every year, Japan was happy to be spending some time with his European friends, even if it was a celebration he wasn’t used to have in the first place; he’d ended up enjoying the spirit of it, and the times he’d thought it weird were long since gone.
The Italian brothers exited the kitchen with Italy holding a tray with an aperitif, and the group sat down to chat a bit and open the new presents together.
“Merry Christmas, Feliciano-kun, I hope you will like this…” with an expectant, albeit tiny, smile, Japan handed Italy a small package, eyes fixed on him. “I thought about you when I saw it!”
Italy grabbed his present and beamed at his friend, ripping through the wrapping paper, with Germany also staring out of curiosity.
The gift was a brand new model of digital camera of a notorious Japanese brand, the kind with touch screen and with an included flash card for the photos. The model on the package was black, but the camera inside was bright red.
Italy’s eyes widened in surprise at the expensive gift, and he tackled Japan, holding him close while the Japanese man flailed his arms around and sputtered in shock -despite being used to Italy’s expansive reactions.
“Ve~ I really like it, Kiku! It’s beautiful!” with a happy cheer, Italy removed carefully the package and checked the contents, holding up the battery with a confused look. “Say, Ludwig? Will you explain me how to use it?”
Frowning and placing on the table the new hard drive for his computer that Japan had given him for Christmas, Germany looked at Italy in confusion. “Why did you ask me? Isn’t it Kiku’s gift?”
With a pout, Italy turned to look at Germany fully, shaking his head and waving the battery around. “Kiku always uses technical words, but you always know how to explain things easily so that I can understand~ please, Ludwig? Please?”
A soft blush on his cheeks, Germany shared a look with Japan, asking him for permission; the Japanese Nation didn’t look like he’d mind, so Germany beckoned Italy close, trying to look like he knew what he was doing.
“Ah, not now! It’s time for lunch!” standing up and carefully tucking all the camera pieces back into its package, Italy straightened up and tugged Japan up with him. “Come on, I prepared something yummy for all of us!”
Spain (who had been trying to cuddle Romano for the last few minutes) jumped up, dragging a startled South Italy up with him, and stretched. “I was starting to get hungry! Man, come on Lovi!”
With a beaming smile, Italy led the other Nations to the dining room, where the table was already prepared for the lunch -the plates had a Christmas mistletoe ornament, the tablecloth itself was red and green, and on the middle there was a huge composition with pinecones and berries.
“Sit down, ve~ I’m going to bring forth the food!” forcing his friends to sit down, placing each them in front of their personalised seats (each had a napkin with their initials and a small silver placeholder with a different carved subject), Italy then left for the kitchen.
Romano huffed, fingers playing with the small gun-shaped placeholder as he watched Germany open one of the wine bottle on the table, and grabbed it as soon as he was done, pouring himself a glass.
“At least the choice of wine is decent,” he sniffed, looking at the glass with appreciation, and Germany had no heart to tell him that Italy had been the one to pick the wine (as he always did).
Spain chuckled, winking at Germany and offering him one of the beer bottles (there was also sake for Japan, Italy always thought about everybody).
“It’s nice to be able to eat all together like this… I like Christmas time!”
Germany didn’t say anything, but nodded slightly to acknowledge Spain’s words.
Soon, their attention turned to the food Italy was bringing out, and they started a light chatting then went on throughout the lunch as more food was brought out.
Italy had once again surpassed Germany’s expectations in regards to the choice of food -there was Italian pasticcio and some salted Salmon, which put Japan in a good mood, then there were a few German dishes and even a Spanish one, to make everybody happy…
“Ah, delicious as usual, Feli!” Spain smiled up at the younger of the two Italian Nations, stuffing his mouth with more food, and Romano had actually nothing to say to that, as he was too busy eating to be able to say anything mean.
Italy observed everything with the kind of satisfied, proud expression that resulted in a job nicely done, and served himself a double portion of pasticcio to celebrate, smiling at Germany with such a warm, content expression that the German Nation had to look away to stop himself from standing up to hug him.
When Spain and South Italy left, later in the afternoon after having watched a bit of Christmas Concert with the ex Axis trio, Romano had eaten so much he didn’t even complain when Germany thanked him for suggesting Spain the right gift for him.
All in all, the day had started well.
…-…-…-…
The period after Christmas was packed with things to do, and Germany soon found himself falling into the old routine without missing a beat.
There were preparations to be made for another end of the year, which included having Italy over for a ‘first kiss of the year because that means I’ll be able to spend next year with Ludwig again~’ at midnight, shooting fireworks (which scared his dogs, so he had to keep them in the house), keeping Prussia away from Italy (because he wasn’t going to risk anything) and other small, menial things that absorbed his attention completely.
For six long, busy days, Germany also watched Italy bounce around with the camera in one hand and a huge smile on his face, taking photos of everything and everyone.
December 31st passed without much ado, and Germany returned to work with his usual stoic face.
Paperwork had piled up while he’d been away, and to that, his boss added more work to be done that needed his immediate action, and Germany accepted it all, secretly wishing that Christmas had lasted some more time.
In that first month after the holidays, Germany could barely see Italy at all. The few times he did were few and far in-between, which put him in a sort of bad mood, making his work feel even more heavy than usual.
Week after week he worked and worked, allowing himself to contact Italy only once every few days to listen to the other Nation’s voice (and really, why did he miss him so much? Italy was a disruptive force on his best days, and a devastation-made-human on his worst ones) and that would be all.
It was, if he was honest with himself, a real torture, but he managed to withstand it with the sheer force of his will, and he was rather satisfied when that period ended and he was able to meet up with Italy again.
As their weekly meetings resumed -with Italy coming over to cook or sleep at his house (and in his bed)- and Germany was able to relax a bit more, he also became aware of another fact.
Italy had stopped taking photos and there was no sign of the camera anywhere. Thinking back, Germany could not remember when was the last time he’d seen the Italian Nation with it.
The thought baffled him, of course -Italy had looked so enraptured with Japan’s gift… was he so fickle that his interest had diminished already?
At one point he even asked, feeling embarrassed about his own curiosity but wanting to find out the truth, and the reply had left him even more perplexed than before.
“Feliciano?” clearing his throat in hesitation, Germany waited until Italy looked up from his canvas, flashing Germany a warm smile.
“Sì, Ludwig? Are you bored?”
Germany shook his head, placing his pen on the pile of documents he’d been reviewing. “No, I was just wondering something…”
“Ooh~ what is it? If it’s about dinner, I promised you already that I wouldn’t cook pasta~”
“No, it’s actually about… your camera”.
Something flashed on Italy’s face, but it was so quick that it vanished before Germany could look at it closely. “My camera, ve~?”
“Ja. The camera Kiku bought you for Christmas. Are you not using it?”
“Hmmm… well, you see…” with a soft smile, Italy twirled around, naked feet dancing on the bare floor of Germany’s sitting room, but his smile quickly disappeared. “Ve~ I feel a bit cold…”
“You shouldn’t be wandering around without your slippers! You’ll catch a cold!” getting (rightfully) angered, as Italy had clearly ignored his warnings before more than once, Germany stood up and knelt at his side, forcing a pair of fluffy slippers he’d bought for him the year before on Italy’s feet.
Italy shivered and grabbed Germany’s head for balance, fingers tangled in the blond hair, making Germany stiffen as he lifted one foot, then the other.
“There you go,” he muttered, satisfied when Italy bounced around, happily commenting on how his feet were warm now.
The matter of the camera wasn’t picked up for over a week, until Germany remembered again about it, and even then, Italy managed to avoid the question.
After a few attempts, Germany gave up on asking.
…-…-…-…
“… Feliciano-kun?”
Italy stopped rolling around with a cat in his arms and stretched on the grass, giggling when some of it tickled his nose, brown eyes fixed on Japan standing above him.
“Ve? What is it, Kiku?”
Japan threw a glance at where Germany was standing, staring at his dogs and demanding them to follow him, and then stared back at Italy with a crossed expression.
“Um… ano… I don’t mean to offend you, Feliciano-kun, but… did you not like my gift?”
Italy blinked, unsure about what Japan was talking about -he hadn’t given anything to him, had he? Did the onigiri he’d stolen from Japan’s bento count? Because that wasn’t a gift, more like he’d…
“Ah! You mean the camera!” face lit up in understanding, Italy quickly stood up from the grass, cat meowing on his lap.
“Y-yes, that is what I mean…” Japan fidgeted.
He’d also noticed how Italy never seemed to be using it -even in occasions when other Nations brought their own cameras, Italy always seemed not to join in with his own, and that had brought him to fear that his gift, although much appreciated at first, had grown to be disliked after the first excitement had worn off.
Germany had also stated he hadn’t seen Italy use the camera at all…
“Kiku~ you know I loved the gift! I still do! You should not worry about that, ve~ right?”
“B-but-”
“Ve~ I use the camera when I use the camera, obviously!” lips curling into a weird, amused smile, Italy chuckled. “I don’t use it when I don’t have to use it… but I always collect the best when I do!”
“Feliciano, that doesn’t even ma-”
The cat on Italy’s lap stretched and jumped off, wandering away with a bored face. “Uwaa~ Mr. Cat, don’t run away!”
And just like that, Italy was gone, leaving Japan to worry about his gift and wonder if he just had to give up asking altogether.
More than once, during the following few months, Japan tried to go back on the subject of his gift with Italy, but every single time, with the skills of a pro, Italy managed to avoid answering, and the most Japan got to know was that his camera hadn’t been broken, lost or misplaced.
All in all, Japan had to give up and stop asking, knowing that he would not get an answer anytime soon.
The thought still lingered in the back of his mind anyway, together with the fear of having decided on a bad gift for one of his closest friends.
At least, he knew that if Italy hadn’t liked the gift he would have stated that to Japan’s face, and that was enough of a consolation to just stop asking and forget the whole thing.
Just like that, over five months passed.
…-…-…-…
“I’m so sorry, ve~ I promise I’ll come back soon!”
Germany watched Italy twirl around the room while putting on his jacket, bouncing on one foot.
“It’s ok, Feliciano… you don’t have to worry so much, I will wait here until you’re back”.
“But I’m really sorry… Ludwig worked hard to be able to come here for me, and when you arrive, I have to leave for a meeting with my boss… ve~ I don’t want to go…”
If anything, Germany was a bit disappointed.
He’d spent two days working double time so that he could see Italy -once again, work had taken over his life, making it almost impossible for the two of them to see each other- but as he got there, ready for a day with his best friend, Italy had stuff to do.
It was almost ironic… but Germany saw nothing funny in the situation.
“It will be ok, Feliciano. It won’t take you long, and I’ll be there when you come back. I still have a few days to waste as I wish”.
“Ve~ I love Ludwig so much!”
Throwing his arms around Germany’s neck and kissing both of his cheeks happily, making the German Nation flush uncomfortably (both at his actions and at his words), Italy pulled away, equally flushed, and waved at him affectionately, disappearing outside of the door a second later.
Shaking his head, Germany moved to the sitting room and made himself at home, one book open in his arms and his attention focused on what he was reading.
It didn’t last.
Italy’s house without Italy was… empty, to be frank, and although Germany loved the place, he loved it more with Italy inside it, his presence warming it up and making Germany feel welcome and at home.
Unsettled at his own recurring thoughts -thoughts he didn’t want to give leeway to- Germany stood up and paced through the room, observing the new paintings on the walls and the books on the shelves.
For a bit, he contented himself with this, admiring Italy’s skills at painting, then he grew bored and moved to the painting room on the first floor.
Since Italy always said he was happy when Germany visited and looked around, nowadays the German man had no qualms checking (or in Prussia’s words ‘snooping around’) the various rooms without waiting for Italy’s approval, and this was no exception.
Even then, the painting room only held his attention for maybe half an hour, enough for him to notice the three new paintings Italy had started but had yet to finish (one was of Austria and Hungary, one of Poland and the last one was of Germany himself) and to grow bored again.
So, after much pondering, Germany entered Italy’s study.
The room had all of Italy’s growing CD collection, and Germany was planning to steal a few of them to listen while waiting for the owner of the house to come back. Their musical tastes were not as similar as Germany might have wished, but they agreed on a few composers and that was enough.
Once he got in, Germany had to wrinkle his nose at the utter mess that reigned in there. The rest of the house looked, if not spotless, at least vaguely in order, but this room was…
“Really… I should have expected it of him…” with a fond smile, Germany picked up a folder of documents from the floor and placed it on the desk in the corner.
There were three more stacks of paperwork there, most of it already signed and ready to be sent back to Italy’s boss -Germany shuddered at the sight of a few of those papers, wondering how could Italy stand to all the nonsense he was being put through lately- and a huge pile of papers that were covered with doodles and small, almost unreadable notes.
Shaking his head again, Germany returned his attention to the CD shelves, forcing himself to not try to clean up the room.
It was not his place, and Italy needed to learn how to keep this room clean as well.
After a few minutes pondering which CD to take, Germany finally made his choice and turned around to leave…
Then stopped, eyes falling upon a huge book hidden among the stacks of paper. At first sight, it didn’t look different from the rest of the paperwork, except that there was a photo sticking out from its side.
Curiosity raised its head inside Germany’s mind, and he gently pulled the photo free, turning it around so that he could look at it.
Maybe it was a photo Italy had taken with his camera?
Much to his embarrassment, the photo was of himself and Prussia, both holding huge beer mugs and looking proud about them.
After a moment, Germany finally remembered the scene -it had been on the first day of January, and Prussia had been completely smashed.
Ashamed at the photo, Germany looked away. He didn’t quite remember how Italy had convinced him to take that one, but really, he shouldn’t have kept it.
When had Italy stopped taking photos, again?
Grabbing the album from underneath the pile of documents, Germany blinked at the cover. It was rather bland, with Italy’s scratchy handwriting on the middle.
The first few pages were full of photos that Germany recognised -he’d taught Italy how to take them during the last few days of December, and he was in almost half of them.
Then, things started getting weird from the third page onwards.
There was a photo of Germany eating a wurst, and he couldn’t remember, for the life of him, when he’d allowed Italy to take that one; a photo of Germany braiding Berlitz’s fur, a photo of Germany reading a book, a photo of Germany… sleeping?
“What the…”
More photos of Germany doing random things, such as working, buying groceries, talking with Prussia or France, then a photo of him and Prussia and Denmark trying to outdrink each other, a photo of him as he ignored Romano yelling at him…
When had Italy taken all those photos of him?
Not that they were not good -they were definitely good and looked way more natural than those Italy had done under Germany’s supervision…
But he had never been aware that Italy had been taking them.
Not even once during the course of the last few months had Germany realised that Italy actually brought his camera with him all the time. He had to, obviously, because otherwise most of those photos would have been impossible to get…
Germany’s cheeks turned red as he looked at the next page, realising that most of the photos there were of him under the shower.
Nothing explicit could be seen, thankfully, but he was deeply ashamed all the same.
Italy was up for a lecture when he-
“Ve~ Ludwig found my album~”
Startled out of his reverie, Germany spun around to stare at a sheepish Italy, both surprised at him being there so soon and angered at seeing him, too.
“What. Is. The. Meaning. Of. This.” He grunted out, waving the album so that Italy could see it.
Scratching the back of his head with a small smile, cheeks flushed red, Italy shrugged. “It’s a collection of photos of Ludwig…”
Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Germany tried to calm down. “I can see that. I want to know why you took all those photos without…” he licked his lips, still enraged. “Especially those on page twelve…”
Italy’s cheeks were still just as red as Germany’s own as he skipped towards him and regained possession of the album, clutching it tightly to his chest.
“I’m sorry if I took photos without asking Ludwig first, but you wouldn’t have allowed me to take so many if I had asked you to…”
Which was, as much as Germany didn’t want to admit it, the truth. It wasn’t that he was self conscious, but no person should need so many photos of someone, even if the photos were good.
“Why?” more defeated than angered now, Germany sat down on a nearby chair and glared at Italy through his fingers, still massaging his forehead.
Italy opened a random page, eyes staring fondly at all the photos.
“I miss Ludwig a lot when we both work so much. Our bosses are not nice, ve~” he turned the album around, showing Germany a photo of him with his boss, who was not smiling. “Since we can’t meet each other when we have work to do, I thought I could keep a photo or two of Germany to cheer me up until our next meeting!”
The thought was despite everything, rather nice, and Germany felt his anger disappear at Italy’s words, feeling a bit embarrassed but also happy.
“I’ve missed you, as well, but…” pointing at the album, the German Nation frowned. “You didn't need all those photos anyway, wasn’t one enough?”
Italy shook his head vehemently, clutching the album to his chest again.
“Ve~ no! Not at all! Because if I had a photo of Ludwig posing for it, it would not be natural. So I thought to sneak around and get some shots that would show the real Ludwig when he’s not aware I’m taking photos!” he smiled warmly, eyes sparkling in happiness. “Then I realised that I had a few photos of Ludwig, but they were not enough, because I wanted to be able to see you doing many many things. I missed Ludwig eating, and missed him sleeping next to me in bed. I missed Ludwig yelling at me and even frowning, and I missed your small smiles…”
There was a shift in Italy’s tone that made Germany want to step up and hug him, but he didn’t.
“I took all those photos, and looking at them, I can remember you then, and it’s almost like we’re together… but it’s not quite the same. Having you with me for real cannot be substituted with photos… your big hands protecting me, your body next to mine, your kisses and hugs and your voice, and your warm muscles, too!”
Embarrassed but at the same time pleased, Germany stood up and moved towards the other Nation, patting him on the head.
“Is Ludwig still angry with me?”
“No, o-of course not…” oddly touched by how much Italy missed him, Germany couldn’t really stay angry at him. not when he also missed Italy. “You-”
What he was about to say was lost when Italy tackled him and clung at his chest, looking up at him and pouting “hug then! Hug me, Ludwig!”
A soft smile tugging at his lips, Germany wrapped his arms around Italy’s shoulders and held him close.
If he thought about it, about the first times Italy had demanded hugs from him, and even kisses, Germany could say he’d mellowed a bit… he’d never have thought he would not only give in to this Nation’s demands so easily, but also coming to enjoy them.
Which in retrospect was probably the most shocking part of it all.
Still, Italy’s words had surprised him, and had filled him with warmth. He’d missed Italy a lot during the last few months, as he always missed him year after year, but he’d done nothing to make that any different.
If anything, he had endured the situation, hoping something would change, but had not tried to start it himself.
Italy, somehow, in his weird, silly way, had tried to change it.
He had tried to fill the void he felt when Germany was away with photos, even if that could not make up for their closeness.
And they were close.
Maybe a bit too much. It was weird that they both missed each other this much, when Germany himself had only seen this kind of longing with Spain when he ranted on how he missed South Italy.
Which on one side was normal for someone like Spain, but on the other side… Spain and Romano were together. As in, romantically.
He and Italy were not.
Even if Italy demanded hugs and kisses and when he visited, he slept in Germany’s bed; even if Italy lived in Germany’s house whenever there was no work to do, and Germany could make a list of all the things he had at Italy’s house, scattered everywhere as if they belonged there.
Even if the longing he always felt when at Italy’s side could be easily mistaken for something different, something more…
Even if they probably looked like a married couple to all the other Nations, who did not share a similar relationship between them as Germany and Italy did.
And still, they were not a couple.
Grip tightening considerably, making Italy yelp against his chest, Germany narrowed his eyes.
Maybe he’d just found out what the problem was.
“Ah… Feliciano?”
Was there a way to ask something like that?
Germany wasn’t the most affectionate person, at least not with others that were not Italy. But this was Italy, right? It was different. It had been different for a long while now, and actually, Italy had already made his move.
“Ve~?”
“What… uh, what exactly are… we?”
Italy paused, fingers tapping rhythmically on Germany’s chest, then looked up at him, face scrunched up in confusion. “Ludwig is the person I love the most~”
Once again, Italy’s carefree statement had the power to make Germany blush and caused his chest to constrict. This time, he knew why.
There must have been some kind of change on his face, because Italy stopped fidgeting in his arms and blinked up at him, brown eyes wide open. “… Kiss me?” he demanded, a small grin on his lips.
“… ja”.
Germany leaned down, mindful of the Wall of Eight Centimetres, but instead of landing a kiss on each of Italy’s cheeks, just as he always did, he gently pressed his lips against Italy’s waiting ones.
The contact was different, of course -Italy’s lips were thin but smooth, and reacted to Germany’s ones, increasing the slight pressure until the blond Nation pulled away, a bit dizzy at his own audacity.
“Ve~” Italy’s cheeks were just as red as Germany’s ones, but he was smiling contently as he managed to place a quick peck on Germany’s lips before he pulled away. “Ludwig’s been so forwards with me~”
Spluttering a bit, Germany tried to clear his brain a bit. “W-well, I-”
“But… I like it like that, ve~” rubbing his chin against the taller Nation’s chest, Italy sighed happily. “Didn’t you like it too?”
For a second, Germany closed his eyes, but there was only one answer to that question. “… yes”.
“Then kiss me again, Ludwig,” Italy smiled and tugged at Germany’s tie. “I don’t think I can make a photo of this anytime soon…”
So Germany cleared his throat and leaned forwards again, kissing Italy on his lips.
Italy wrapped both of his arms around Germany’s shoulders, pulling him even closer, lips parting and tongue darting out to dance with Germany’s one; both were lost in the sudden rush of heat, Germany holding Italy against his chest, not wanting to let him go.
After what felt like an eternity they parted, but were unable to move too far from each other, lips still so close their breaths mingled together, blue eyes looking into brown ones.
“I love you, Feliciano” Germany murmured, a soft smile on his lips.
Without hesitation, Italy circled the other Nation’s hand with his own, their fingers intertwining together.
“I love Ludwig too,” he admitted, looking straight into Germany’s eyes. “Does that mean I’ll get even more hugs and kisses?”
Cheeks colouring again, Germany nodded, still not letting Italy go. “A-as long as you stop taking photos of me, I guess” he muttered.
Italy pouted cutely, glancing quickly to the side, where he’d placed his camera on auto-shoot, hidden behind a pile of CDs, so that it could catch Germany if he ever decided to come into Italy’s studio while he was away.
Maybe he could just not tell him about that… at least if the camera had worked properly with the times Italy had set in it, now he had a lot of photos of them kissing…
“Ve~”
With a happy cheer, Italy grabbed Germany’s cheeks and pulled him down for a kiss again.
There would be time for everything else, but right now, he simply wanted more Germany.
---
I hope this was enough fluff for you, my dear recipient. ^^ Have a Merry Christmas!
Guten Morgen (German) - Good morning
Buon Natale, Feliz Navidad, Fröhliche Weihnachten - Merry Christmas in Italian, Spanish and German.
Type of Gift: Fanfic
Rating: PG-13
Title: Foto Ricordo
Summary: As a Christmas gift, Japan gives Italy a camera. Italy uses it the best way he knows -to make tons of photos of Germany. GerIta.
I hope this is good! In Italian, 'foto ricordo' is a term for a photo taken to make memories. Just that. ^^
---Foto Ricordo
Christmas was, and it had been for the last decade, quite the busy moment.
If for the rest of the year the ex-Axis Powers barely had time to interact with each other (which, if one allowed Italy to have his way with things, was not the case anyway), Christmas had long since been labelled special occasion.
During the last days of November, both Germany and Japan would receive calls from Italy (he never used mails, they were far too impersonal for him) and he would ask, bubbly and happy, about where they would get together for the year.
Once that detail was settled, Italy started planning out the day, from the kind of food that would be served (he was careful and attentive on that part, always working for days on the menu and preparing food that would satisfy all of them) to the decorations and what they could do during the day.
Germany and Japan were content in letting him do everything, because neither really cared about it all… well, that was a lie -they simply had given up on helping Italy out… his preparations for Christmas were always perfect and he seemed to enjoy doing it anyway.
During the first two weeks of December, Italy would be busy finishing up all his paperwork in order to have the rest of the month free for his usual shopping time with Poland and Hungary; then, he’d use up his mornings to wrap up presents for all nations, and a week prior to Christmas, punctual like a clock, he showed up at either Germany or Japan’s house (depending which one was hosting the party) to finish the preparations.
If they decided to do it at his house, he would not let anyone in during the whole week, not even his own brother (who ended up dropping off at Spain’s house with curses and mutters), expecting his friends to arrive at the prearranged time.
Overly zealous as usual, Italy had curbed his Christmas rituals to perfection, leaving nothing to case.
Christmas 2010 was no exception.
The hosting nation for the year was Germany, and he had already resigned himself to allow Italy free reign of his house (not that it was unusual or anything. If not for the fact that Italy had a house of his own to return to, it often felt like they were living together).
Watching the hyper Italian nation bouncing around, holding piles of decorations and lights, Germany fought the urge to stand up and help him, knowing Italy would not accept it.
“Feliciano…” he cleared his throat, the feeling of being useless creeping up into him, and stared at the other Nation with a creased brow. “Are you sure you don’t need me to-”
“Ve~ Ludwig is nice, but I don’t need your help at all!”
Balancing precariously on a chair, busy attaching strings of lights all over Germany’s walls, on his windows and on his chandelier, Italy smiled happily and continued his work, managing not to fall even once.
It didn’t look like it, but he was a master in decorating Germany’s house.
“You bought another set of lights,” Germany commented after a long glance, hands twitching with the need to stand up and go hold Italy by his sides so he wouldn’t look so close to falling.
“You noticed!” spinning dangerously around and dazzling the blond Nation with a happy smile, Italy waved his arms around and nodded. “It’s a new kind that I bought a few days ago with Feliks! They will look splendid, I promise!”
With a curt nod, Germany busied himself with his glass of eggnog, nose buried in a book so he would not look at Italy anymore.
Every year, despite trying hard to hide it, Germany actually looked forwards to Christmas time.
All his cities were filled with beautiful markets, his boss allowed him to leave his paperwork for later, and when it was his turn to host the party, he liked to stare at Italy bouncing around happily to decorate his house, in a familiar, comfortable fashion.
Yes, Germany liked Christmas.
Maybe a bit too much, because with the festivity, a new need to ensure Italy remained at his side suddenly grew stronger, and the thought always put Germany in a weird, unsettled mood all the same -as if he expected something to happen every year, and that something never did.
“I’ve finished! Ludwig! Ludwig! Please, let’s try the lights now!”
Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Germany looked up; it seemed that while he’d been reading, Italy had finished placing all the new Christmas lights, and had even decorated their Christmas tree (one that Italy had asked Germany to buy a few years before).
The sight was, as expected, splendid, and with a small smile, Germany placed his book down and moved to click the lights off.
As the room fell into darkness and the strings of lights flickered on, their rainbow colours humming beautifully, Germany looked at Italy, enjoying the sight of the lights on him more than the lights themselves.
“Ve~ it’s perfect!” with a satisfied nod, Italy flipped down from the chair, and as if whatever spell he used to be so functional was suddenly broken, he slipped and landed in Germany’s waiting arms. “Ludwig is always there to save me~ hehehe~”
With a small blush, Germany helped Italy up to his feet and shook his head, observing the darkened room now lit up by the dangling lights.
“It’s really Christmas, huh,” he muttered, shaking his head.
As Nations, time moved differently for them, but it was always a surprise when Christmas crept up on him like this, without warning.
“Now let’s go to bed! We need to wake up early, cause Santa is coming!”
“… Feliciano, it’s not even Christmas eve today!”
“Huh? No, but I invited Tino over at lunch tomorrow~”
Momentarily left speechless at Italy’s cheerful reply, Germany scratched the back of his head and shrugged, leaving Italy in the sitting room and moving up to his bedroom.
With a smile, Italy flicked the lights off and followed him upstairs.
…-…-…-…
“Ve~ Ludwig! Buon Natale!”
Germany resurfaced from sleep with a deep, unsatisfied groan.
If there was something that he didn’t like of Christmas morning, it was Italy waking up far too early -earlier than Germany himself was used to- to open up all the gifts.
He had exchanged presents with most of the Nations on Christmas eve, during his yearly trip from house to house, leaving only his brother, Spain, Prussia and Japan for later (as he met with them on Christmas day, after all), so he had quite a few gifts to look forwards to.
With a deep grunt, Germany pushed Italy away from him, ignoring his flailing and sputtering, and tried to hide his face in the pillow.
Even if he was awake already, there was actually a (guilty) reason why he was trying to look asleep (one he would never admit loudly)…
“Ve~ wake up! Wake up!” with a giggle, Italy leaned forwards, and gently pressed a kiss on Germany’s cheek.
Face scarlet, the redness advancing up to his ears, Germany finally gave up and shifted to a sitting position.
“G-guten Morgen, Feliciano,” he replied, allowing himself a pleased smile. “Fröhliche Weihnachten”.
With a happy squeal, Italy launched himself in Germany’s arms, showering him with kisses and demanding some back as well.
“Ah! Look! It snowed tonight! It never snows at my house at Christmas…” with a dazed look, Italy shifted out of the bed and ran to the window, shivering when his naked feet came in contact with the cold floor, and stood still to watch the beautiful scenery outside the window.
Germany had enough time to stand up, put on his slippers, and leave for the bathroom, and only when the door was close behind his back he heard Italy rush around the room to pick up all his scattered clothes and run to his second bathroom.
When he came out, refreshed and properly dressed up, Germany politely waited for Italy to meet up with him, and together they descended downstairs to open up the gifts.
“Oh, West, Feli~! Merry Christmas!”
They were greeted with the sight of Prussia sitting in the middle of a pile of opened up presents, wrapping paper scattered everywhere, smiling expectantly at them.
As Italy left his side to hug and cuddle with Prussia, Germany shook his head, trying not to get headache at the sight; every Christmas morning it was the same, with Prussia and Italy making a mess of his living room…
“Look, isn’t he cute? I had this crafted especially for him!” Prussia was showing Italy his little Gilbird, who was wearing the smallest Santa hat Germany had ever seen.
He looked ridiculously cute, indeed.
Then it was time for present opening, of course -Germany was pleased with Italy’s reaction to his gift (one he’d walked through a lot of markets to find), and was inwardly satisfied with his own gift from Santa (Finland had, once again, brought him dirty magazines, which was good since he’d finished reading the old ones already and he didn’t want to be caught buying some himself).
Italy’s gift to Germany was a watch, especially made by Switzerland, and one that had everything Germany would ever want from a watch -including all the things nobody else ever used- while he gave Prussia a scarf to match one he’d bought for himself.
That, as expected, sent Prussia into a fit of happiness; when he left, right after breakfast, singing some Christmas song at the top of his lungs and directed at France’s house, Germany silently thanked God for having successfully survived another Christmas morning.
With Italy busy finishing up the touches for their lunch, Germany was left with nothing else to do other than go to the sitting room, TV open on some Christmas movie he’d seen thrice already, waiting for the other guests to come.
The first to come were Spain and South Italy, the Spaniard cheerfully leading the other inside, but at least Romano was decent during these festivity, and kept his cursing at a minimum.
“Hola, Ludwig, Feliz Navidad!”
“B-buon Natale, pota-” with a hiss, as Spain had just elbowed him, Romano cleared his throat. “Buon Natale, Ludwig,” he grunted, following that up with a few muttered curses.
With a stoic nod at the pair, Germany led them in and watched, mostly amused, as the two Italian brothers exchanged greetings and curses in a rapid Italian, the younger of the two with a happy, satisfied face, and the other with a less then pleased expression.
Spain stared at the decorations and congratulated Italy for his good work, receiving a kick by Romano for his nice words, and with all the pleasantries, while the two brothers continued their banter in the kitchen, Spain and Germany sat together in the sitting room watching the Christmas movie.
“Ah, I think I’ve seen this one already,” stretching on the sofa, Spain grabbed a magazine from a nearby pile and flicked through it. “We won’t be staying much this year, we have plans for the afternoon”.
“That is entirely fine,” Germany stared unseeingly at the TV. “I must thank you for your present, I hadn’t expected to receive the new model of drill…”
“Don’t even say that… Lovi mentioned you needed one… yes, of course, one had to read in-between his curses… but you can say the idea was his”.
Definitely impressed -he hadn’t known Romano could be this nice to him- Germany relaxed on the armchair, waiting for Japan to arrive.
Japan arrived, as usual, ten minutes prior to midday, arms full of packets and presents, his little Pochi following him, sniffing everywhere and greeting Germany’s dogs by yipping and jumping everywhere, and after a heartfelt greeting, gracefully sat down on the sofa next to Spain.
“Merry Christmas, Antonio-san, Ludwig-san,” smiling softly, Japan offered his gifts to the two Nations.
Just like every year, Japan was happy to be spending some time with his European friends, even if it was a celebration he wasn’t used to have in the first place; he’d ended up enjoying the spirit of it, and the times he’d thought it weird were long since gone.
The Italian brothers exited the kitchen with Italy holding a tray with an aperitif, and the group sat down to chat a bit and open the new presents together.
“Merry Christmas, Feliciano-kun, I hope you will like this…” with an expectant, albeit tiny, smile, Japan handed Italy a small package, eyes fixed on him. “I thought about you when I saw it!”
Italy grabbed his present and beamed at his friend, ripping through the wrapping paper, with Germany also staring out of curiosity.
The gift was a brand new model of digital camera of a notorious Japanese brand, the kind with touch screen and with an included flash card for the photos. The model on the package was black, but the camera inside was bright red.
Italy’s eyes widened in surprise at the expensive gift, and he tackled Japan, holding him close while the Japanese man flailed his arms around and sputtered in shock -despite being used to Italy’s expansive reactions.
“Ve~ I really like it, Kiku! It’s beautiful!” with a happy cheer, Italy removed carefully the package and checked the contents, holding up the battery with a confused look. “Say, Ludwig? Will you explain me how to use it?”
Frowning and placing on the table the new hard drive for his computer that Japan had given him for Christmas, Germany looked at Italy in confusion. “Why did you ask me? Isn’t it Kiku’s gift?”
With a pout, Italy turned to look at Germany fully, shaking his head and waving the battery around. “Kiku always uses technical words, but you always know how to explain things easily so that I can understand~ please, Ludwig? Please?”
A soft blush on his cheeks, Germany shared a look with Japan, asking him for permission; the Japanese Nation didn’t look like he’d mind, so Germany beckoned Italy close, trying to look like he knew what he was doing.
“Ah, not now! It’s time for lunch!” standing up and carefully tucking all the camera pieces back into its package, Italy straightened up and tugged Japan up with him. “Come on, I prepared something yummy for all of us!”
Spain (who had been trying to cuddle Romano for the last few minutes) jumped up, dragging a startled South Italy up with him, and stretched. “I was starting to get hungry! Man, come on Lovi!”
With a beaming smile, Italy led the other Nations to the dining room, where the table was already prepared for the lunch -the plates had a Christmas mistletoe ornament, the tablecloth itself was red and green, and on the middle there was a huge composition with pinecones and berries.
“Sit down, ve~ I’m going to bring forth the food!” forcing his friends to sit down, placing each them in front of their personalised seats (each had a napkin with their initials and a small silver placeholder with a different carved subject), Italy then left for the kitchen.
Romano huffed, fingers playing with the small gun-shaped placeholder as he watched Germany open one of the wine bottle on the table, and grabbed it as soon as he was done, pouring himself a glass.
“At least the choice of wine is decent,” he sniffed, looking at the glass with appreciation, and Germany had no heart to tell him that Italy had been the one to pick the wine (as he always did).
Spain chuckled, winking at Germany and offering him one of the beer bottles (there was also sake for Japan, Italy always thought about everybody).
“It’s nice to be able to eat all together like this… I like Christmas time!”
Germany didn’t say anything, but nodded slightly to acknowledge Spain’s words.
Soon, their attention turned to the food Italy was bringing out, and they started a light chatting then went on throughout the lunch as more food was brought out.
Italy had once again surpassed Germany’s expectations in regards to the choice of food -there was Italian pasticcio and some salted Salmon, which put Japan in a good mood, then there were a few German dishes and even a Spanish one, to make everybody happy…
“Ah, delicious as usual, Feli!” Spain smiled up at the younger of the two Italian Nations, stuffing his mouth with more food, and Romano had actually nothing to say to that, as he was too busy eating to be able to say anything mean.
Italy observed everything with the kind of satisfied, proud expression that resulted in a job nicely done, and served himself a double portion of pasticcio to celebrate, smiling at Germany with such a warm, content expression that the German Nation had to look away to stop himself from standing up to hug him.
When Spain and South Italy left, later in the afternoon after having watched a bit of Christmas Concert with the ex Axis trio, Romano had eaten so much he didn’t even complain when Germany thanked him for suggesting Spain the right gift for him.
All in all, the day had started well.
…-…-…-…
The period after Christmas was packed with things to do, and Germany soon found himself falling into the old routine without missing a beat.
There were preparations to be made for another end of the year, which included having Italy over for a ‘first kiss of the year because that means I’ll be able to spend next year with Ludwig again~’ at midnight, shooting fireworks (which scared his dogs, so he had to keep them in the house), keeping Prussia away from Italy (because he wasn’t going to risk anything) and other small, menial things that absorbed his attention completely.
For six long, busy days, Germany also watched Italy bounce around with the camera in one hand and a huge smile on his face, taking photos of everything and everyone.
December 31st passed without much ado, and Germany returned to work with his usual stoic face.
Paperwork had piled up while he’d been away, and to that, his boss added more work to be done that needed his immediate action, and Germany accepted it all, secretly wishing that Christmas had lasted some more time.
In that first month after the holidays, Germany could barely see Italy at all. The few times he did were few and far in-between, which put him in a sort of bad mood, making his work feel even more heavy than usual.
Week after week he worked and worked, allowing himself to contact Italy only once every few days to listen to the other Nation’s voice (and really, why did he miss him so much? Italy was a disruptive force on his best days, and a devastation-made-human on his worst ones) and that would be all.
It was, if he was honest with himself, a real torture, but he managed to withstand it with the sheer force of his will, and he was rather satisfied when that period ended and he was able to meet up with Italy again.
As their weekly meetings resumed -with Italy coming over to cook or sleep at his house (and in his bed)- and Germany was able to relax a bit more, he also became aware of another fact.
Italy had stopped taking photos and there was no sign of the camera anywhere. Thinking back, Germany could not remember when was the last time he’d seen the Italian Nation with it.
The thought baffled him, of course -Italy had looked so enraptured with Japan’s gift… was he so fickle that his interest had diminished already?
At one point he even asked, feeling embarrassed about his own curiosity but wanting to find out the truth, and the reply had left him even more perplexed than before.
“Feliciano?” clearing his throat in hesitation, Germany waited until Italy looked up from his canvas, flashing Germany a warm smile.
“Sì, Ludwig? Are you bored?”
Germany shook his head, placing his pen on the pile of documents he’d been reviewing. “No, I was just wondering something…”
“Ooh~ what is it? If it’s about dinner, I promised you already that I wouldn’t cook pasta~”
“No, it’s actually about… your camera”.
Something flashed on Italy’s face, but it was so quick that it vanished before Germany could look at it closely. “My camera, ve~?”
“Ja. The camera Kiku bought you for Christmas. Are you not using it?”
“Hmmm… well, you see…” with a soft smile, Italy twirled around, naked feet dancing on the bare floor of Germany’s sitting room, but his smile quickly disappeared. “Ve~ I feel a bit cold…”
“You shouldn’t be wandering around without your slippers! You’ll catch a cold!” getting (rightfully) angered, as Italy had clearly ignored his warnings before more than once, Germany stood up and knelt at his side, forcing a pair of fluffy slippers he’d bought for him the year before on Italy’s feet.
Italy shivered and grabbed Germany’s head for balance, fingers tangled in the blond hair, making Germany stiffen as he lifted one foot, then the other.
“There you go,” he muttered, satisfied when Italy bounced around, happily commenting on how his feet were warm now.
The matter of the camera wasn’t picked up for over a week, until Germany remembered again about it, and even then, Italy managed to avoid the question.
After a few attempts, Germany gave up on asking.
…-…-…-…
“… Feliciano-kun?”
Italy stopped rolling around with a cat in his arms and stretched on the grass, giggling when some of it tickled his nose, brown eyes fixed on Japan standing above him.
“Ve? What is it, Kiku?”
Japan threw a glance at where Germany was standing, staring at his dogs and demanding them to follow him, and then stared back at Italy with a crossed expression.
“Um… ano… I don’t mean to offend you, Feliciano-kun, but… did you not like my gift?”
Italy blinked, unsure about what Japan was talking about -he hadn’t given anything to him, had he? Did the onigiri he’d stolen from Japan’s bento count? Because that wasn’t a gift, more like he’d…
“Ah! You mean the camera!” face lit up in understanding, Italy quickly stood up from the grass, cat meowing on his lap.
“Y-yes, that is what I mean…” Japan fidgeted.
He’d also noticed how Italy never seemed to be using it -even in occasions when other Nations brought their own cameras, Italy always seemed not to join in with his own, and that had brought him to fear that his gift, although much appreciated at first, had grown to be disliked after the first excitement had worn off.
Germany had also stated he hadn’t seen Italy use the camera at all…
“Kiku~ you know I loved the gift! I still do! You should not worry about that, ve~ right?”
“B-but-”
“Ve~ I use the camera when I use the camera, obviously!” lips curling into a weird, amused smile, Italy chuckled. “I don’t use it when I don’t have to use it… but I always collect the best when I do!”
“Feliciano, that doesn’t even ma-”
The cat on Italy’s lap stretched and jumped off, wandering away with a bored face. “Uwaa~ Mr. Cat, don’t run away!”
And just like that, Italy was gone, leaving Japan to worry about his gift and wonder if he just had to give up asking altogether.
More than once, during the following few months, Japan tried to go back on the subject of his gift with Italy, but every single time, with the skills of a pro, Italy managed to avoid answering, and the most Japan got to know was that his camera hadn’t been broken, lost or misplaced.
All in all, Japan had to give up and stop asking, knowing that he would not get an answer anytime soon.
The thought still lingered in the back of his mind anyway, together with the fear of having decided on a bad gift for one of his closest friends.
At least, he knew that if Italy hadn’t liked the gift he would have stated that to Japan’s face, and that was enough of a consolation to just stop asking and forget the whole thing.
Just like that, over five months passed.
…-…-…-…
“I’m so sorry, ve~ I promise I’ll come back soon!”
Germany watched Italy twirl around the room while putting on his jacket, bouncing on one foot.
“It’s ok, Feliciano… you don’t have to worry so much, I will wait here until you’re back”.
“But I’m really sorry… Ludwig worked hard to be able to come here for me, and when you arrive, I have to leave for a meeting with my boss… ve~ I don’t want to go…”
If anything, Germany was a bit disappointed.
He’d spent two days working double time so that he could see Italy -once again, work had taken over his life, making it almost impossible for the two of them to see each other- but as he got there, ready for a day with his best friend, Italy had stuff to do.
It was almost ironic… but Germany saw nothing funny in the situation.
“It will be ok, Feliciano. It won’t take you long, and I’ll be there when you come back. I still have a few days to waste as I wish”.
“Ve~ I love Ludwig so much!”
Throwing his arms around Germany’s neck and kissing both of his cheeks happily, making the German Nation flush uncomfortably (both at his actions and at his words), Italy pulled away, equally flushed, and waved at him affectionately, disappearing outside of the door a second later.
Shaking his head, Germany moved to the sitting room and made himself at home, one book open in his arms and his attention focused on what he was reading.
It didn’t last.
Italy’s house without Italy was… empty, to be frank, and although Germany loved the place, he loved it more with Italy inside it, his presence warming it up and making Germany feel welcome and at home.
Unsettled at his own recurring thoughts -thoughts he didn’t want to give leeway to- Germany stood up and paced through the room, observing the new paintings on the walls and the books on the shelves.
For a bit, he contented himself with this, admiring Italy’s skills at painting, then he grew bored and moved to the painting room on the first floor.
Since Italy always said he was happy when Germany visited and looked around, nowadays the German man had no qualms checking (or in Prussia’s words ‘snooping around’) the various rooms without waiting for Italy’s approval, and this was no exception.
Even then, the painting room only held his attention for maybe half an hour, enough for him to notice the three new paintings Italy had started but had yet to finish (one was of Austria and Hungary, one of Poland and the last one was of Germany himself) and to grow bored again.
So, after much pondering, Germany entered Italy’s study.
The room had all of Italy’s growing CD collection, and Germany was planning to steal a few of them to listen while waiting for the owner of the house to come back. Their musical tastes were not as similar as Germany might have wished, but they agreed on a few composers and that was enough.
Once he got in, Germany had to wrinkle his nose at the utter mess that reigned in there. The rest of the house looked, if not spotless, at least vaguely in order, but this room was…
“Really… I should have expected it of him…” with a fond smile, Germany picked up a folder of documents from the floor and placed it on the desk in the corner.
There were three more stacks of paperwork there, most of it already signed and ready to be sent back to Italy’s boss -Germany shuddered at the sight of a few of those papers, wondering how could Italy stand to all the nonsense he was being put through lately- and a huge pile of papers that were covered with doodles and small, almost unreadable notes.
Shaking his head again, Germany returned his attention to the CD shelves, forcing himself to not try to clean up the room.
It was not his place, and Italy needed to learn how to keep this room clean as well.
After a few minutes pondering which CD to take, Germany finally made his choice and turned around to leave…
Then stopped, eyes falling upon a huge book hidden among the stacks of paper. At first sight, it didn’t look different from the rest of the paperwork, except that there was a photo sticking out from its side.
Curiosity raised its head inside Germany’s mind, and he gently pulled the photo free, turning it around so that he could look at it.
Maybe it was a photo Italy had taken with his camera?
Much to his embarrassment, the photo was of himself and Prussia, both holding huge beer mugs and looking proud about them.
After a moment, Germany finally remembered the scene -it had been on the first day of January, and Prussia had been completely smashed.
Ashamed at the photo, Germany looked away. He didn’t quite remember how Italy had convinced him to take that one, but really, he shouldn’t have kept it.
When had Italy stopped taking photos, again?
Grabbing the album from underneath the pile of documents, Germany blinked at the cover. It was rather bland, with Italy’s scratchy handwriting on the middle.
The first few pages were full of photos that Germany recognised -he’d taught Italy how to take them during the last few days of December, and he was in almost half of them.
Then, things started getting weird from the third page onwards.
There was a photo of Germany eating a wurst, and he couldn’t remember, for the life of him, when he’d allowed Italy to take that one; a photo of Germany braiding Berlitz’s fur, a photo of Germany reading a book, a photo of Germany… sleeping?
“What the…”
More photos of Germany doing random things, such as working, buying groceries, talking with Prussia or France, then a photo of him and Prussia and Denmark trying to outdrink each other, a photo of him as he ignored Romano yelling at him…
When had Italy taken all those photos of him?
Not that they were not good -they were definitely good and looked way more natural than those Italy had done under Germany’s supervision…
But he had never been aware that Italy had been taking them.
Not even once during the course of the last few months had Germany realised that Italy actually brought his camera with him all the time. He had to, obviously, because otherwise most of those photos would have been impossible to get…
Germany’s cheeks turned red as he looked at the next page, realising that most of the photos there were of him under the shower.
Nothing explicit could be seen, thankfully, but he was deeply ashamed all the same.
Italy was up for a lecture when he-
“Ve~ Ludwig found my album~”
Startled out of his reverie, Germany spun around to stare at a sheepish Italy, both surprised at him being there so soon and angered at seeing him, too.
“What. Is. The. Meaning. Of. This.” He grunted out, waving the album so that Italy could see it.
Scratching the back of his head with a small smile, cheeks flushed red, Italy shrugged. “It’s a collection of photos of Ludwig…”
Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Germany tried to calm down. “I can see that. I want to know why you took all those photos without…” he licked his lips, still enraged. “Especially those on page twelve…”
Italy’s cheeks were still just as red as Germany’s own as he skipped towards him and regained possession of the album, clutching it tightly to his chest.
“I’m sorry if I took photos without asking Ludwig first, but you wouldn’t have allowed me to take so many if I had asked you to…”
Which was, as much as Germany didn’t want to admit it, the truth. It wasn’t that he was self conscious, but no person should need so many photos of someone, even if the photos were good.
“Why?” more defeated than angered now, Germany sat down on a nearby chair and glared at Italy through his fingers, still massaging his forehead.
Italy opened a random page, eyes staring fondly at all the photos.
“I miss Ludwig a lot when we both work so much. Our bosses are not nice, ve~” he turned the album around, showing Germany a photo of him with his boss, who was not smiling. “Since we can’t meet each other when we have work to do, I thought I could keep a photo or two of Germany to cheer me up until our next meeting!”
The thought was despite everything, rather nice, and Germany felt his anger disappear at Italy’s words, feeling a bit embarrassed but also happy.
“I’ve missed you, as well, but…” pointing at the album, the German Nation frowned. “You didn't need all those photos anyway, wasn’t one enough?”
Italy shook his head vehemently, clutching the album to his chest again.
“Ve~ no! Not at all! Because if I had a photo of Ludwig posing for it, it would not be natural. So I thought to sneak around and get some shots that would show the real Ludwig when he’s not aware I’m taking photos!” he smiled warmly, eyes sparkling in happiness. “Then I realised that I had a few photos of Ludwig, but they were not enough, because I wanted to be able to see you doing many many things. I missed Ludwig eating, and missed him sleeping next to me in bed. I missed Ludwig yelling at me and even frowning, and I missed your small smiles…”
There was a shift in Italy’s tone that made Germany want to step up and hug him, but he didn’t.
“I took all those photos, and looking at them, I can remember you then, and it’s almost like we’re together… but it’s not quite the same. Having you with me for real cannot be substituted with photos… your big hands protecting me, your body next to mine, your kisses and hugs and your voice, and your warm muscles, too!”
Embarrassed but at the same time pleased, Germany stood up and moved towards the other Nation, patting him on the head.
“Is Ludwig still angry with me?”
“No, o-of course not…” oddly touched by how much Italy missed him, Germany couldn’t really stay angry at him. not when he also missed Italy. “You-”
What he was about to say was lost when Italy tackled him and clung at his chest, looking up at him and pouting “hug then! Hug me, Ludwig!”
A soft smile tugging at his lips, Germany wrapped his arms around Italy’s shoulders and held him close.
If he thought about it, about the first times Italy had demanded hugs from him, and even kisses, Germany could say he’d mellowed a bit… he’d never have thought he would not only give in to this Nation’s demands so easily, but also coming to enjoy them.
Which in retrospect was probably the most shocking part of it all.
Still, Italy’s words had surprised him, and had filled him with warmth. He’d missed Italy a lot during the last few months, as he always missed him year after year, but he’d done nothing to make that any different.
If anything, he had endured the situation, hoping something would change, but had not tried to start it himself.
Italy, somehow, in his weird, silly way, had tried to change it.
He had tried to fill the void he felt when Germany was away with photos, even if that could not make up for their closeness.
And they were close.
Maybe a bit too much. It was weird that they both missed each other this much, when Germany himself had only seen this kind of longing with Spain when he ranted on how he missed South Italy.
Which on one side was normal for someone like Spain, but on the other side… Spain and Romano were together. As in, romantically.
He and Italy were not.
Even if Italy demanded hugs and kisses and when he visited, he slept in Germany’s bed; even if Italy lived in Germany’s house whenever there was no work to do, and Germany could make a list of all the things he had at Italy’s house, scattered everywhere as if they belonged there.
Even if the longing he always felt when at Italy’s side could be easily mistaken for something different, something more…
Even if they probably looked like a married couple to all the other Nations, who did not share a similar relationship between them as Germany and Italy did.
And still, they were not a couple.
Grip tightening considerably, making Italy yelp against his chest, Germany narrowed his eyes.
Maybe he’d just found out what the problem was.
“Ah… Feliciano?”
Was there a way to ask something like that?
Germany wasn’t the most affectionate person, at least not with others that were not Italy. But this was Italy, right? It was different. It had been different for a long while now, and actually, Italy had already made his move.
“Ve~?”
“What… uh, what exactly are… we?”
Italy paused, fingers tapping rhythmically on Germany’s chest, then looked up at him, face scrunched up in confusion. “Ludwig is the person I love the most~”
Once again, Italy’s carefree statement had the power to make Germany blush and caused his chest to constrict. This time, he knew why.
There must have been some kind of change on his face, because Italy stopped fidgeting in his arms and blinked up at him, brown eyes wide open. “… Kiss me?” he demanded, a small grin on his lips.
“… ja”.
Germany leaned down, mindful of the Wall of Eight Centimetres, but instead of landing a kiss on each of Italy’s cheeks, just as he always did, he gently pressed his lips against Italy’s waiting ones.
The contact was different, of course -Italy’s lips were thin but smooth, and reacted to Germany’s ones, increasing the slight pressure until the blond Nation pulled away, a bit dizzy at his own audacity.
“Ve~” Italy’s cheeks were just as red as Germany’s ones, but he was smiling contently as he managed to place a quick peck on Germany’s lips before he pulled away. “Ludwig’s been so forwards with me~”
Spluttering a bit, Germany tried to clear his brain a bit. “W-well, I-”
“But… I like it like that, ve~” rubbing his chin against the taller Nation’s chest, Italy sighed happily. “Didn’t you like it too?”
For a second, Germany closed his eyes, but there was only one answer to that question. “… yes”.
“Then kiss me again, Ludwig,” Italy smiled and tugged at Germany’s tie. “I don’t think I can make a photo of this anytime soon…”
So Germany cleared his throat and leaned forwards again, kissing Italy on his lips.
Italy wrapped both of his arms around Germany’s shoulders, pulling him even closer, lips parting and tongue darting out to dance with Germany’s one; both were lost in the sudden rush of heat, Germany holding Italy against his chest, not wanting to let him go.
After what felt like an eternity they parted, but were unable to move too far from each other, lips still so close their breaths mingled together, blue eyes looking into brown ones.
“I love you, Feliciano” Germany murmured, a soft smile on his lips.
Without hesitation, Italy circled the other Nation’s hand with his own, their fingers intertwining together.
“I love Ludwig too,” he admitted, looking straight into Germany’s eyes. “Does that mean I’ll get even more hugs and kisses?”
Cheeks colouring again, Germany nodded, still not letting Italy go. “A-as long as you stop taking photos of me, I guess” he muttered.
Italy pouted cutely, glancing quickly to the side, where he’d placed his camera on auto-shoot, hidden behind a pile of CDs, so that it could catch Germany if he ever decided to come into Italy’s studio while he was away.
Maybe he could just not tell him about that… at least if the camera had worked properly with the times Italy had set in it, now he had a lot of photos of them kissing…
“Ve~”
With a happy cheer, Italy grabbed Germany’s cheeks and pulled him down for a kiss again.
There would be time for everything else, but right now, he simply wanted more Germany.
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I hope this was enough fluff for you, my dear recipient. ^^ Have a Merry Christmas!
Guten Morgen (German) - Good morning
Buon Natale, Feliz Navidad, Fröhliche Weihnachten - Merry Christmas in Italian, Spanish and German.