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Cross-posted from DA

Title: Hot One
Recipient: Eggywig
Type of gift: Fic
Rating: R
Author: kira
Chars/Pairs: Germany/Italy, Prussia, mention of Romano & Spain
Genres: romance
Warnings: none
Word Count: 3404
Summary: Germany and Italy head out to the store to get the ingredients for dinner. While in the store they pick up a romantic movie and a gallon of ice cream…
Author’s notes: Thanks to my beta, Jen for reading this over for me. Thanks also to Kat, for helping me with the title. :D
Author’s notes 2: This taken place in the early 90’s sometime before 1994 when America closed its military bases in Berlin. Please also note that VCRs were popular at the time and since “The Princess Bride” came out in 1987, one would find it on video during the early 90’s. (It came out on video in 1988.)


As they walked to the American-style grocery store, Italy babbled on incessantly about anything and everything, and Germany could feel it was going to be a “hot one” as America would say. He wiped his damp brow with a handkerchief that he fished out of the back pocket of his shorts. His mind was preoccupied with thoughts about what they were going to make for dinner, and Germany would occasionally look over at Italy, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards in a brief smile. He nodded encouragingly at his little buddy.

Italy, taking that as a sign of agreement, hugged his best friend. “Yay!” he cried, heedless of the stares they got from passersby. “I knew your brother would be wrong about you letting me eat gelato for breakfast! Wait ‘til I tell Pru-err… Gilbert!” Italy said, using Prussia’s human name, when he noticed the looks they were getting. Italy stepped back from his friend, flashing his sunniest smile at him.

Germany blinked. “Gelato for breakfast…?”

“Yeah!”

“Oh…” Germany said. “Ummm… Feliciano?”

“Yeah?”

“We’ve already had coffee and those sweet rolls Gilbert got from Roderich for breakfast along with the salami you brought.” He held up a hand again, forestalling his friend’s protests. “And we’ve already had Zwischenmahlzeit.”

Italy pouted. “Can’t we have another snack when we get home?”

“You’ll spoil your lunch if you eat too much.”

“Please?” Italy gave him his best cute an adorable look.

Germany sighed. He always found it hard to resist that look. The only time he had ever really succeeded was during wartime, but now that the world was at “peace,” it was difficult. So he responded in the age old way that mothers did, with a stern “we’ll see.”

Italy, however, took that as a “yes.” Throwing his arms around Germany again, he cried, “Grazie, Capitano!” Italy peppered his friend’s face with little kisses.

Germany, acutely aware of the stares and soft comments they were getting, tried pulling his little buddy off himself to no avail. Italy clung to him like a limpet on a rock. Mortified, Germany said softly, “Italy… Italy, please let go!” When he got no response, he said loudly, “Feliciano! Enough!”

Italy giggled, and giving his best friend one more kiss on the cheek, he stepped away. “I’m sorry, Captain,” he said in Italian. “Forgive me?”

Germany sighed. “You’re forgiven,” he said. “But only if you behave.”

“Yes, sir!” Italy saluted. He calmly walked next to his friend and they made it to the small store that catered to the American soldiers and their families at the nearby American military facility as well as various Americans living there because of their jobs. “I thought America’s people left here,” Italy said as they entered the store.

“Most of them have left. My people and his have been working on closing several facilities and now that my brother’s home, they don’t need to uh… guard the border like they used to,” he said as they entered the grocery store.

Grabbing a basket, the two of them walked up and down the aisles. German and American products stood side by side on the shelves and Italy often threw in the imported items along with the domestic. Germany, mindful of what they actually needed as well as how much he and more importantly Italy, was willing to carry home, occasionally put things back on the shelves. On their way down one aisle they came across a bin filled with tapes of various Hollywood movies. Italy scanned them. and finding one he liked that he also thought his friend would, held it up. “Can we get this, Ludwig?”

Germany took the tape. “‘The Princess Bride’?” he said as a puzzled frown settled over his features.

Italy nodded. “I saw it in America when it came out. Remember that time a couple of years ago when you had to stay for that extra meeting?”

Germany thought about it and nodded.

“Well, I went to see it with Romano and Antonio. It was really good! It’s just like those books you like to read!”

Germany felt his cheeks heating up. “Alright, we’ll get it.” He took a look at the video, before putting it in the basket, relieved that it would play on his VCR as the last thing he wanted was his little buddy getting whiny about it not being able to buy it. “I just need to pick up some chop-meat for the meatballs and then we can go. Are you sure you have enough tomatoes to make your gravy?”

Italy nodded. “I think so; I could always go get a few more if you think I’ll need them.”

“It couldn’t hurt and you could always take them home if you don’t need them.”

“I could always make more gravy.” Italy smiled.

“You could.” Germany’s lips briefly twitched upwards in a smile. His expression taking on a sterner look, he said, “Hurry up and meet me here, by the video tapes.”

“Yes, sir!” Italy saluted. “I’ll be right back, Captain!”

Germany sighed as his friend turned on his heel and hurried off towards the produce section. Shaking his head, he also turned and headed over to the meat counter. Germany was glad the butcher was able to take care of him right away and a few minutes later, he had a package of ground beef that he added to his basket. He also picked up some of the white sausages his brother loved, before heading back to their meeting place.

Italy was waiting for him, a bag of plum tomatoes in one hand and a large container of ice cream in the other. “They’re having a sale on gelato, Ludwig.” Italy smiled as he held up the gallon bucket of vanilla. “Do we need any chocolate sauce?”

“No, my brother picked some up the other day when he heard you were coming over tonight to make dinner.”

“Oh good! I bet he got it at that store near where he works.”

Germany nodded. The German-run store near where they worked had a better selection, but this place was closer to home. Besides, America had become a bit of a friend over the years and he was good to Germany’s people living in his house, so he returned the favor by patronizing the little American shops. “Anyway…” he began, “Don’t you think that’s a bit too much ice cream?”

“This?” Italy’s brief frown morphed into his more familiar sunny smile. “One can never have enough gelato!”

Germany sighed. He opened his mouth to argue, but after mentally rearranging things in the freezer and seeing it would fit, he nodded. “Fine, we’ll get it-”

“Yay! I knew you liked gelato as much as I do!” Italy interrupted. He would have kissed his best friend if their hands had not been full of groceries.

“But you’re carrying it home,” Germany said as he walked over to the checkout counter, Italy following along behind him. They waited patiently in line, Italy babbling on and on about dinner and the tub of ice cream, while Germany nodded in all the right places. A few minutes later, they were back on the street, the groceries paid for and on their way home. Germany noted with wry amusement that Italy seemed to move like he had wings on his feet. The only other times he could remember his friend moving like that was while retreating from enemy fire or hurrying through training to get to the local ice cream shop.

By the time they had made it back to Germany’s house, the two of them were grateful to get inside the cooler interior. After greeting the dogs and putting away their groceries, Italy started making the sauce. He chopped the tomatoes and an onion, before going outside to get a few sprigs of fresh basil from the garden he had planted in Germany’s backyard. With a little bit of this and a little bit of that, he soon had a pot of sauce simmering on the stove. While Germany cleaned up his mess, Italy got out the ice cream and scooped up two big bowls of it, topping them off with the chocolate sauce.

“Let’s go watch the movie!” he said, handing a bowl to his friend.

“What about the sauce, I mean gravy?” Germany said as he took the proffered bowl.

“It’ll be okay. Romano leaves the pot on all day, stirring it every so often.”

“Won’t it burn?”

“Not if you simmer it on very low heat.” Italy beamed at him. “Now let’s go! I promise you’ll love the movie!”

Despite his misgivings, Germany allowed himself to be led into the den, the dogs following along at a more sedate pace. He sat on the sofa with the bowls of ice cream, while Italy fiddled with the VCR. It did not take long before Italy was back, and sitting uncomfortably close for such a hot day, while the movie played. They ate their ice cream as they watched and the little sounds of pleasure his little buddy made while eating, made it difficult for Germany to concentrate on the movie. He looked over at his friend to tell him to be quiet when Italy turned his head, meeting his gaze.

“Ve… Germany.”

“Yeah?” Germany’s cheeks heated up over Italy’s intense look that felt more like a smoldering gaze than anything else.

“You’ve got ice cream and chocolate sauce on your mouth,” Italy said. He sighed softly when Germany’s tongue darted out in an attempt at licking it off. After several futile attempts at it, Italy said softly. “Let me help you.”

“Okay…”

Instead of wiping it away with his fingers, Italy leaned in and licked his friend’s lower lip, which quickly became a kiss. Germany kissed him back and when they came up for air he said huskily, “You’ve got some ice cream on your mouth too.”

“I do?” Italy blinked.

“Yeah…” Germany leaned in and kissed him again.

Italy giggled when he broke the kiss. Taking a spoonful of ice cream he held it up for his best friend to eat, but Germany, blushing profusely, shook his head. They went back to watching the movie and eating their ice cream like nothing happened. Italy, who had been eating his ice cream like it was a religious experience, had the feeling his best friend watching him. When he ate another spoonful, deliberately taking his time as he pulled the spoon from his mouth and Germany moaned softly, he giggled. A part of him wanted to tease his best friend until Germany could not take it anymore and covered him with cool at first from the ice cream kisses that rapidly heated up. He shifted in his seat as his thoughts took on a more lustful edge.

Germany’s breath hitched in his throat. When his little buddy had moved, he pressed his knee against Germany’s. The bare skin to skin contact thanks to their shorts was electric. He panted as the blood seemed to flow from his head straight to his groin. Trying to distract himself from his naughty thoughts, Germany focused his attention on the movie, while mechanically eating his ice cream. It was difficult, but he prided himself on his devotion to duty no matter how dire the cost, but this time, Germany had the feeling he was going to end up admitting defeat.

Somehow they both managed to finish the ice cream and watch a bit of the movie without too many distractions. Germany had to admit it was better than he thought. He was expecting it to be sappy, but it was actually quite funny in spots. They sat there, enjoying the movie, and now that they were finished with the ice cream they needed to put the bowls in the kitchen sink. “Italy?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you pause the movie? I want to put the dishes in the sink.” Germany leaned forward and picked up Italy’s bowl.

“Sure.” Italy reached for the remote and paused the movie, while Germany hurried into the kitchen. Feeling warm, Italy took off his tank top, tossing it aside. He giggled when he noticed the look of pure lust that briefly settled on his best friend’s face when he returned. Italy gave him the sweet doe-eyed look that always made Germany forget whatever it was that he was going to yell at him for, and sighed.

Germany swallowed and as soon as he willed his feet into moving again, he came over at sat back down on the sofa. His little buddy naturally sat on top of him and when he moved his arm up and out of the way to rest along the back of the sofa, Italy melted into his side. He looked down at him and was about to tell Italy to move over a bit, when Italy looked up at him and licked his lips. Germany gave him what passed for a smile and before he could even stop himself, he leaned in and kissed Italy.

Italy kissed him, deepening the kiss. His best friend tasted faintly of chocolate and Italy imagined himself licking it off his fingers, his face, his neck… and other places not meant to be covered with an ice cream topping. The movie forgotten, he peppered Germany’s face with kisses as he climbed onto his friend’s lap. He could feel a certain part of his friend’s anatomy as he straddled his hips and was pulled slightly down onto it when Germany wrapped his arms around him. Italy knew he had a similar bulge in his own shorts and it wanted some attention too. “Ve… Germany?” Italy said between kisses.

“What?” Germany murmured as he trailed a line of kisses across Italy’s jaw line and down his neck. He was sucking on his little buddy’s collar bone when he felt him shift on his lap. Germany moaned softly.

“Let’s go upstairs in your room…”

Germany looked up at him. “Okay…” He kissed his little buddy, before letting go. Germany tried not to whine when Italy got up off his lap. He switched off the TV and the VCR, before getting up.

Together, the two of them went upstairs to his room. It was warm, but neither one cared, all they wanted was each other. They kissed again, deepening it as they shuffled over to the bed. Once there, they sat down. Their kisses grew more and more heated as their hands wandered.

Breaking the kiss, Italy stood up and wiggled out of his boxers. He smiled coyly at his friend when Germany moaned softly at the sight. Italy sat on the bed, his best friend getting up to sit at his feet. Closing his eyes, Italy gave himself over to the pleasurable sensations Germany created when he held Italy’s burgeoning erection in his rough, calloused hand, before engulfing it in his mouth. Italy made soft little happy noises as his best friend licked and sucked. Germany had a talented tongue, and once he got over being shy and reserved when it came to sex in general, Italy quickly took advantage of it. He was after all Roma’s grandson and no stranger to some of the things Germany liked to come up with. This time things were rather tame, not that he minded as they still felt good.

Germany licked his little buddy’s cock, paying special attention to the large vein just under the head. He could tell by the taste it would not be long before his little climaxed. A few more well placed licks and Italy came, spewing his hot, bitter essence in Germany’s mouth. Pulling back with a loud slurp, Germany swallowed.

Italy leaned in and kissed him, deepening it when Germany opened his mouth as if to say something. He could taste a hint of chocolate as well as himself. Breaking the kiss, he gazed coyly into his best friend’s eyes. “Would, Captain, like some?” Italy licked his lips and smiled.

Germany nodded.

“Okay!” Italy moved to get on the bed. He positioned himself on all fours and he moaned softly as Germany caressed his butt. Italy shivered when Germany planted butterfly soft kisses on his back. He whined when his best friend got up off the bed to take his shorts off and get the lube. A dip in the bed signaled Germany’s return and Italy giggled when he felt his best friend’s breath ghosting across his lower back and butt as Germany lubed him up.

“Ready?”

Italy nodded.

Germany got up behind him, and holding his cock in his hand, he lined himself up. He slowly pushed past the tight ring of muscle with a loud moan, giving his little buddy time to get used to him. Not that he minded as Germany took it as a personal challenge to his control or lack thereof. So he took his time, showing gentleness that no one ever saw except Italy as he built his rhythm.
Unbeknownst to them, Prussia arrived home early from work. He greeted the dogs and Gilbird, who had flown over to perch on his shoulder. “Hey, West! I’m home!” he called out as he headed towards the kitchen, drawn by the smell of fresh sauce simmering on the stove. He gave it a stir, and after checking to make sure his brother was not lurking in the shadows, a quick taste as well. Prussia tasted the sauce again, before heading downstairs to his room. Once there, he changed out of his work clothes and put on a tank top and a pair of long, baggy shorts. He left his feet bare as it was simply too hot to put a pair of sock and sneakers. Feeling a lot cooler, he headed back upstairs.

“Hey, West! When’s dinner?! I’m hungry!” When he did not receive a reply, Prussia went in search of his brother. He figured they were somewhere in the house as there was no way, Germany would leave the house without first switching off the stove, no matter what Italy said. Entering the den, he noticed the video’s sleeve and chuckled softly to himself. “‘Princess Bride’, hunh? Oh, West, you little romantic! Although, I have feeling Itachen picked it out.”

Having a fair idea of where his brother was, Prussia figured he would have a bit of fun teasing him about his romantic misadventures. So he headed quietly upstairs to his brother’s room. He padded softly down the hall, and upon reaching Germany’s bedroom; he flung open the door without knocking. “Wes-” Prussia paused, awestruck. He never expected the sight that greeted him in a million years.

Germany froze as the door swung open. He and Italy both looked over at Prussia, who simply stood there, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. Germany felt his face contorting in an angry snarl. He was so close and not in the least bit happy about having his fun ruined by his idiot brother. “Get the hell out of here, before I kill you!” he roared.

While Prussia beat a hasty retreat, Italy could not help laughing. “It’s okay, Captain, he didn’t know we were…” He giggled. “We can keep going.”

Germany sighed. He had started to go down, but kept going anyway. Italy’s tightness felt so good it was easy to forget his irritation at the interruption. Gripping his little buddy’s hips, Germany rode him to completion, his soft grunting a delicate counter melody to Italy’s moaning. He pulled out when he was finished and after a quick clean up, the two of them snuggled together in bed.
“Ve… Germany?”

“What?”

“Prussia seemed really surprised to find us together,” Italy said. “I thought he knew about us.”

“Well, he does now,” Germany said and Italy giggled.

“Do you think he’ll get redder than Romano when he found out, when we come down for dinner?” Italy said; his impish smile clearly heard in his voice.

Germany snorted as he thought about it. “I think he’ll be redder.” He sighed. “Now I suppose he’ll be giving me all sorts of useless advice.”

Italy giggled. “Just do what I do with Romano!”

“Yeah?”

“Yup! Just hug him and thank him for caring and do what you want. And if he gets to be a pain in the ass about it…”

“Go talk to Spain,” they chorused.

“Exactly,” Italy said as he shifted his body and leaned in for a kiss.

Comments

( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
azurecerulean
Feb. 7th, 2014 04:59 am (UTC)
Soooo IC & adorable & sweet & ... argh! This fic makes me want to hug 'n' squeeze you like a plushie. ♥
kiramaru7
Feb. 7th, 2014 05:09 am (UTC)
*BLUSHES* Thanks! Awe... *waits to be squeezed like a plushie*
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )

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kiramaru7
the Duchess of Crack! and the Queen of Fluff

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