A Short GerIta Fanfic
Title: A Suggestion
Author/Artist: schizounicorn
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Germany/Italy, France and England appear briefly.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: FLUFF, Brief sexual referances, Kissing, Possibly choppy writing.
Summary: Italy wants to see Germany wear his hair down for once.
“Nooooooo, Germany, don’t!” a rather melodramatic moan echoed through the white tiled bathroom and reached Germany’s ears. He could see a familiar figure in the background of the reflection in the mirror. He turned around to face a pouting Italy, clad only in an oversized white nightshirt.
“I always gel my hair back, why don’t you want me to do so today?” Germany asked, moving a large hand, covered in hair gel, towards his blond bangs. Out of nowhere, a tanned hand gripped Germany’s wrist. He froze, and then turned to the right to look at his persistent lover once again.
“Um, I was just thinking about how handsome Germany looks with his hair down, and I wanted to see him not put gel in it for once.” Italy chirped, a bright smile gracing his face. Germany felt his cheeks heat up; the Italian man’s sweet and sincere personality always got to him in one way or another.
“Italy, it is nice to see that you find me attractive this way, but we are going to a World Meeting today, and I need to look my best!” Germany said, trying to sound firm, and above all, trying to resist Italy’s charms.
“Oh, but Germany, wouldn’t it be a nice change?” Italy said, “Just think, everyone will notice how sexy your hair looks.” To emphasize his point, Italy reached his hand into his stern partner’s hair, running a hand through it gently. Damn it, Germany could feel his cheeks going from a soft shade of pink to a burning scarlet hue. He glanced over at his lover.
Firm blue eyes met pleading golden ones. Germany sighed deeply and washed the gel off of his hand in the waiting sink. “Okay, just for today.” He said, defeated.
Italy’s entire body launched off of the ground and into the air like some sort of happy rocket. He lunged forward; arms outstretched, and embraced Germany. Luckily, Germany had braced himself for Italy’s predictable reaction, and managed to endure Italy’s flying hug without falling.
“Oh Germany, I’m so happy! I love you!” It was amazing how little things like this could make Italy so incredibly pleased, and Germany couldn’t fight a small grin.
Italy, his feet firmly on the floor once more, leaned in and kissed Germany full on the lips. Germany couldn’t help but reciprocate. Sure, he was a failure at saying romantic things to Italy, but after all of the years that he and his Italian partner had been together, he had become rather good at kissing. Unconsciously, he felt his arms reach around Italy’s waist, pulling the Italian’s slim body closer to his more built one. Italy moaned slightly into the kiss, which was becoming very deep, and yes, very French. Unfortunately, the need to breath eventually became unbearable, and the two broke apart, panting, but still holding one other. Germany brought his nose to rest in his lover’s hair, inhaling the scent of shampoo and basil that it radiated.
“We should get ready, can’t be late for the world meeting.” Germany murmured into Italy’s auburn locks.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Ah, Germany, I didn’t recognize you. You look so very splendid with your hair down.” France said flirtatiously. Germany fidgeted uncomfortably, his lover, who clung to his arm like a limpet, seemed unfazed.
“Doesn’t he!” exclaimed Italy “It was my idea, too!”
The Frenchmen tossed his blond curls. “Well, that must have been quite a task getting Germany to do something so different from usual. Thanks to you, he may be on his way to living the adventurous life, like me.”
“If living the “adventurous life” means being a lecherous pervert, then no, I am not.” Germany huffed.
“Lecherous pervert, you say, well look at yourself.”
“What are you implying?”
“Judging from the rope burns on little Italy’s wrists, you two had quite an evening together!”
Italy giggled, “That’s because he tied me to the headboard before we had sex!” he shouted gleefully, and far too loudly. At this point, Germany wanted to die; his sex life was no one else’s business, especially not France’s.
Salvation came quickly, however, in the form of England entering the room. “I am afraid that we need to start the meeting now, you three.”
Author/Artist: schizounicorn
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Germany/Italy, France and England appear briefly.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: FLUFF, Brief sexual referances, Kissing, Possibly choppy writing.
Summary: Italy wants to see Germany wear his hair down for once.
“Nooooooo, Germany, don’t!” a rather melodramatic moan echoed through the white tiled bathroom and reached Germany’s ears. He could see a familiar figure in the background of the reflection in the mirror. He turned around to face a pouting Italy, clad only in an oversized white nightshirt.
“I always gel my hair back, why don’t you want me to do so today?” Germany asked, moving a large hand, covered in hair gel, towards his blond bangs. Out of nowhere, a tanned hand gripped Germany’s wrist. He froze, and then turned to the right to look at his persistent lover once again.
“Um, I was just thinking about how handsome Germany looks with his hair down, and I wanted to see him not put gel in it for once.” Italy chirped, a bright smile gracing his face. Germany felt his cheeks heat up; the Italian man’s sweet and sincere personality always got to him in one way or another.
“Italy, it is nice to see that you find me attractive this way, but we are going to a World Meeting today, and I need to look my best!” Germany said, trying to sound firm, and above all, trying to resist Italy’s charms.
“Oh, but Germany, wouldn’t it be a nice change?” Italy said, “Just think, everyone will notice how sexy your hair looks.” To emphasize his point, Italy reached his hand into his stern partner’s hair, running a hand through it gently. Damn it, Germany could feel his cheeks going from a soft shade of pink to a burning scarlet hue. He glanced over at his lover.
Firm blue eyes met pleading golden ones. Germany sighed deeply and washed the gel off of his hand in the waiting sink. “Okay, just for today.” He said, defeated.
Italy’s entire body launched off of the ground and into the air like some sort of happy rocket. He lunged forward; arms outstretched, and embraced Germany. Luckily, Germany had braced himself for Italy’s predictable reaction, and managed to endure Italy’s flying hug without falling.
“Oh Germany, I’m so happy! I love you!” It was amazing how little things like this could make Italy so incredibly pleased, and Germany couldn’t fight a small grin.
Italy, his feet firmly on the floor once more, leaned in and kissed Germany full on the lips. Germany couldn’t help but reciprocate. Sure, he was a failure at saying romantic things to Italy, but after all of the years that he and his Italian partner had been together, he had become rather good at kissing. Unconsciously, he felt his arms reach around Italy’s waist, pulling the Italian’s slim body closer to his more built one. Italy moaned slightly into the kiss, which was becoming very deep, and yes, very French. Unfortunately, the need to breath eventually became unbearable, and the two broke apart, panting, but still holding one other. Germany brought his nose to rest in his lover’s hair, inhaling the scent of shampoo and basil that it radiated.
“We should get ready, can’t be late for the world meeting.” Germany murmured into Italy’s auburn locks.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Ah, Germany, I didn’t recognize you. You look so very splendid with your hair down.” France said flirtatiously. Germany fidgeted uncomfortably, his lover, who clung to his arm like a limpet, seemed unfazed.
“Doesn’t he!” exclaimed Italy “It was my idea, too!”
The Frenchmen tossed his blond curls. “Well, that must have been quite a task getting Germany to do something so different from usual. Thanks to you, he may be on his way to living the adventurous life, like me.”
“If living the “adventurous life” means being a lecherous pervert, then no, I am not.” Germany huffed.
“Lecherous pervert, you say, well look at yourself.”
“What are you implying?”
“Judging from the rope burns on little Italy’s wrists, you two had quite an evening together!”
Italy giggled, “That’s because he tied me to the headboard before we had sex!” he shouted gleefully, and far too loudly. At this point, Germany wanted to die; his sex life was no one else’s business, especially not France’s.
Salvation came quickly, however, in the form of England entering the room. “I am afraid that we need to start the meeting now, you three.”