He felt a bit better, but his dream still hung over him heavily. "Not even for some big boobed country with beer?" He asked, not meaning it to be funny, but rather serious.

"Big boobed...? What? No, I have no interest in anyone of that criteria..." Germany looked at Italy. "Something is troubling you really bad"

He nodded, glad that Germany wasnt interested in that 'criteria.' That had him calming down a bit. He wrung his hands in Germany's shirt, turning just slightly red. "I'm ok now."

"Are you sure that you are?" he looked for a response, then chose a different method. "How about, we go and I teach you how to cook brautwurst like I make it?" He smiled softly. "And, you can teach me to make pasta the way you like it." He looked at Italy with slight hope.

Italy smiled a little and sniffled. "o-Ok." He hugged Germany and stood. "That sound like fun really."He had to say that idea pleased him more than just a little. He was excited. He knew Germany wasn't planning on leaving him, but just in case his dream became reality, he wanted to spend as much time with Germany as he could.

"Come on. We'll even make the cheese brautwurst since you wanted that earlier." Germany was glad that Italy was turning back to his regular self. "And, we can make enough for dinner, that way it's two birds with one stone." He stood and walked to the door of the room. He looked back at Feliciano and smiled.

He started talking nonstop as always, babbling. "I like food. Do you like food? We should make enough to feed three of us each. Maybe we could mix bratwurst with pasta...then it would Italian German food and we could also--" He stopped mid-sentence as Germany smiled. His face turned a light pink and he felt butterflies rise in his stomach. What was this feeling that had him all twisted in knots?

"We can try to add the brautwurst to the pasta. It might actually by quite delicious!" He smiled. "Come on, wanna go try this crazy idea?" He started to head toward the kitchen, not worrying over the Italian's blush.

Italy tried to smile normally without looking like an idiot. He tripped over the carpet (it's more possible than you'd think.) and fell into Germany, grabbing his waist for support. "Eek?!" He was rather surprised by his own klutziness. "S-Sorry." He apologized.

Germany's eyes widened in surprise, but he simply helped Italy right himself and smiled. "There. Now we can go cook." he got into the kitchen and got out a frying pan, and a pot. "Anything else you need?"

Italy was feeling slightly lazy, but he was going to go through with this. "Just the ingredients. And you." He smiled and got all he'd need to make the best pasta Germany would've ever tasted. He wanted the man to like him honestly.

"Alright... So just... pasta noodles?" He asked as he got oil out to slick the pan with so the meat wouldn't stick to the metal of the pan while he cooked the brautwurst. "Or so you need something else as well?" He looked at Italy.

Italy stared at the oil and then at Germany, and then back at the oil. His eyes had become half lidded and his lips were parted as his breath sped up. "Oh dear..." He mumbled, trying to get a grip. Kitchen fantasies were certainly not good for his normally innocent mind. He couldn't believe he was thinking like this! He felt like a pervert, a dirty rotten pervert, but he couldn't help it. "Yeah...noodles...and maybe oregano...or something..." He wasn't even thinking about pasta anymore and he messed with the little curl of hair on his head before gasping a little and turning all flushed as his excitement level rose.

"Um, are you okay Italy?" Germany raised his eyebrow as he got the noodles and the spices out. "You seem... flushed..." He was worried that the Italian was going to faint or succumb to nausea again. "Perhaps we should wait until you feel completely better to do this.."

"Shut up." He hissed, hoping he didn't sound to harsh. He couldn't take Germany's voice right now. That would only make him feel more crazy and then he might attack the man. He couldn't speak and his breath was a series of shaky gasps by now, making him sound like he was hyperventilating.

Ludwig blinked in shock. Italy had told him to shut up... That never happened. Something had to be wrong, but he chose not to answer and just got to work on making the brautwurst.

Italy finally got a grip on himself and realized what he'd said to Germany. He felt like an idiot and covered his mouth, shuddering and starting to cry again. "I-I'm s-sorry!!" He cried, hugging Germany tightly. "I'm such an idiot. I was off in my own little world...and I....I...." He wailed again, feeling awful.

Ludwig laughed softly. "You do worry too much Italy." He hugged the Italian. "I'm not offended or anything yanno. You need too get a grip, and silence is key for that, so don't feel bad."

"You're the nicest man ever." He said softly and just allowed himself to melt into Germany. He leaned his head up against the German's chest and sighed with content. Ludwig was his best friend, and now his crush. He was pretty sure he hadn't felt like this before now. He'd certainly never thought about someone in such a dirty way before things seemed really odd for him now.

Ludwig laughed. "That's a very opinionated view right there. I mean, you do remember what my country did during World War Two don't you?" He raised an eyebrow at Feliciano. "But, I have changed." He ruffled Italy's hair gently avoiding his curl

Italy shook his head. "That was the past. Everyone makes mistakes." He still was clinging to Ludwig like a wet dishrag. "Did anyone ever tell you that you smell good? You smell like fresh cologne and beer." He stated, burying his face in Germany's neck and sniffing him.

"Cologne and Beer? That cannot possibly be a good combination..." He shrugged. "Um, Italy, I need to tend to the brautwurst before they burn..."

Italy reluctantly let go. He still had the fear that if he turned his back for even a second Hermany would be gone forever. Thy was such a scary thought and it made him want to cling to him like fleas on a cat. He knew he was probably annoying the man, but Germany couldn't escape if Italy was always clinging.

"you know... Japan told me the most interesting story about red string... Would you like to hear it? It may set your mind at ease for the time being" he turned the bratwursts over and moved them around in the pan after cutting an onion.

He nodded about the story. "Ok, sure you should tell me." He smiled sweetly, trying to act like himself again.