You're My…What?!

Tapping his fingers against the wood desk, Germany was getting very impatient. Where the hell was Italy? Running late again…as usual…but he was even later than normal. A thought popped into Germany's head, 'Eh…what if he got captured by America and England…again? Would he really be that stupid to let himself…' He paused mid thought and then said out loud "Yah…he would. Damnit Italy." A frown came to the blonde's lips. A small snarl formed at his lips, though he would never admit it to anyone for any reason…he cared about Italy. And not just in the protective, caring way. There was something about the ditsy, pasta loving man that just…intrigued him. Maybe it was that cut little tuft of hair that curled on the right side of his face…maybe it was the way he said his name? Germany didn't know, the only thing that he did know…he wanted Italy here with him now. He wanted to make sure he was safe.

There was something else that just didn't sit well with Germany. That was the way that Japan always looked at Italy. The looks that came out of that man…Germany could tell. He could tell that there might have been some thoughts going through Japan's head that he would not have like. Especially because they were about Italy. Just thinking about this pissed Germany off even more! He was usually in a foul mood, but today…today was the end of the line. He was going to let Japan know to back off, and if he ever caught him gazing at Italy again…he'd kill him. Slamming his hands down on his desk he stood up, the office was just too quiet! He was already worried about Italy, and his whereabouts…but where was Japan? Seriously? Was he the only one who did anything around here?

A frown set upon the face of this German man, he exited his office, in search of a ditz and a quiet little closet perv. As he walked the halls, his footsteps seemed to echo…letting him know that he really was the only one here. The first thought that came to his mind was to check the kitchen. "The little glutton might be in there stuffing his face with pasta…" He said, chuckling quietly under his breath. Just thinking about it…a small tiny blush appeared on his cheeks. Picturing Italy…with tomato sauce on his cheeks…just knowing how much of a sloppy eater it was. Germany stopped walking and smacked his cheeks. This needed to stop, lately the only thoughts about the little pasta lover were none other than those of romance…of those thinking just how cute Italy was.

Scratching the back of his head, he entered the kitchen to be greeted by none other than the one person…he didn't want to see. Japan. A blank expression set upon the face of this short little man, he looked up at Germany. "Konnichiwa sir. Anything I can do for you?" The little man asked, bowing slightly as Germany looked around. "Yah, have you seen Italy anywhere? I think he wandered off again." Germany said, his gaze locking on Japan. Japan just shrugged, "I can't say that I have seen him sir. You've been keeping a close eye on him…what happened? How did he get out of your sight?" He asked, looking up at the freakishly, and somewhat intimidating, blonde man. Germany paused, was this little brat implying something? Did he somehow find out what Germany's feelings were? No…No…there was no way. That was just Germany…paranoid as always. Germany grinned a bit to himself, thinking about how stupid he could be and looked at Japan. "I had paper work and I think he said something about Pasta…the only thing he ever talks about. Other than being friends of course. And when I finished, I looked up and…no Italy." He said, shrugging.

Japan was quiet for a few moments before he turned away, "Well, good luck on finding him sir. And when you do, let him know that we are all out of pasta…he ate it all again." He said, walking off deeper into the kitchen. Probably looking for something that suits his tastes. Germany sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, and then scratching the back of his head. "I really don't want to call England…I try to make it look like I don't care…and if I call…they might get suspicious." He debated with himself for a few moments and then spazed out a bit. "Damnit Italy! You are so lucky I love you!" He yelled to no one. He paused…did he really just say that out loud? Holy crap. That was not supposed to happen. Germany covered his face with his hand, trying to cover the blush that had formed, though there was no one there to witness him and his…embarrassment. After a few moments, and he thought he was all good to go, Germany headed back to his office. To make the call that might blow his cover, but he didn't really care at this point. Italy was never far from him for too long…and if he didn't know where he was…he got very uneasy.

Stepping into his dark office, he turned on the light and just as he did so, his phone rang. Germany quickly ran over to the phone, cleared his throat, and picked it up. "This is Germany. What?" He said into the receiver. "Ah…I thought I would let you know…I tried looking for Italy, but he wasn't outside…or anywhere I checked…maybe he got capture by England again? Maybe you should call…see if that's what happened." The voice on the other end said. Germany sighed into the phone. Damnit Japan…seriously? Germany was surrounded by idiots. "Thank you…but I do know what I am doing. Go off and do your own thing, just don't get captured like the dumkoft Italy always does." Germany said, sitting down at his desk, shuffling through papers trying to find a way to contact England. "Very well sir. If I do happen to see him I will inform you right away. Goodbye." Japan said and then the line went dead.

Waste of time…Japan always had to waste his time. Germany closed his eyes for a moment, rubbing at his temples. Today just wasn't going the way he wanted, when he woke up…thanks to a certain man complaining that he wanted pasta for breakfast.

"Germany~" Italy whined, tugging at Germany bed sheets. Opening an eye, Germany grunted, "What do you want Italy?" A goofy grin formed on Italy's adorable face and he said, "Can you make me pasta for breakfast?"

Seriously? Didn't Italy know how to make his own? But to tell the truth, Germany didn't mind doing it, seeing as Italy clung to him, watching as Germany made his meal. As he found England's number, he picked up the phone, "Goodbye what's left of my pride." He muttered as he started to dial. The line rang…and rang…and rang…Seriously! Someone had better pick up or Germany was going to march over there and kick someone's ass! Just as he heard a painfully familiar voice, belonging to England say, "Allo?" is office door opened and there stood the ditz, smiling.

Germany quickly hung up the phone as he continued to hear England's voice say, "Allo? Allo? Is anyone there? No America…I don't hear anyone." Germany stood up, slamming his hands on his desk again. "Italy, where the hell have you been?" He demanded as the cute, innocent Italy made his way over to the big, bad, tough guy's desk. "Germany~ I think you will be happy with me. And we can be better friends!" He said, looking up into Germany's eyes. Germany blinked, what the hell? "Italy, just answer me. Where have you been for the past hours?" He asked, narrowing his eyes as Italy giggled a bit. "I was out shopping! And then I went to a restaurant…and learned how to cook more things!" He said, holding up a box. Germany looked at the box, he hadn't noticed it before…but there was a very familiar smell coming from it. "What did you make…?" He asked, the tone in his voice softening a bit. Italy turned around, opening up the box and setting a few things up. Germany tried peeking over the shorter man's shoulders, but Italy said, Nuh-uh-uh~! No peeking Germany!" A frown appeared on Germany's face again and he crossed his arms and waited. Italy turned around, setting a plate on Germany's desk. "I made a German meal! Bratwurst and sauerkraut! Do you like it?" Italy said, smiling widely. Germany was in shock…Italy did this just for him…? That…was just too cute.

Germany looked down, hiding his face and walked around the desk, to stand in front of Italy. The clueless man blinked and looked up at Germany. "Germany? What's wrong? Do you not like it?" Italy asked, small tears forming in the corner of his eyes. Germany looked up at him and gently wiped Italy's tears away, "Italy you fool. I love it…thank you…" He said, leaning closer to Italy. A smile broke out on Italy's face and h hugged Germany tightly. "Yay! I'm glad you like it Germany! Cause I know that you get sick of pasta…(though I don't see how…pasta is amazing~!!) So I decided to make something that you like!" Italy said, pulling away, but still staying close to Germany. A smile appeared on Germany's usually pissed off face and he took the moment to gently place his lips over Italy's.

Italy's eyes widened with shock, but in an instant he was kissing back. It was like the two of them had waited forever for this moment. Germany pulled away and smiled, "Though you're a ditz Italy…you're my ditz." Italy blushed a bit from embarrassment and said, "And though you're an asshole, you're my asshole!" Germany frowned.

Way to ruin the moment…ditz.

---End---