AviatorVoreHead Contest Entry: One Bite of Pasta

[Warning: This contains soft, nonfatal vore. If you don't know what it is, look at this website please: www.urbandictionary.com/define… If you don't like it, then why would you read this?]

    "Ve~ Germany, I'm-a hungry! Can I make-a some pasta?" Italy asked, giving Germany puppy dog eyes. (Despite the fact his eyes are almost always closed)
    "Ja, go ahead," Germany sighed, "Just try not to make a mess, alright?"
    "Si, captain~" Italy replied giddily. He saluted the German improperly, then ran off to Germany's kitchen. He got out all of the ingredients and started to cook the fettuccine. He was making a little mess, but Germany didn't come in to clean it up. He was too busy with work. But his tidiness senses told him that Italy WAS making a mess, and his eyebrow twitched in annoyance.
    Unbeknownst to Italy, he was being watched by a certain Brit through the window.
    "If I want to get to Germany, I have to get to Italy. And what better way to do that than by using black magic?" Britain thought out loud. He chuckled darkly. A demonic aura, not unlike Russia's (though no one can compete with Russia's) started to form.
    Italy usually wasn't good at sensing the mood, but no one, not even him, could ignore the Brit's aura. Or maybe it was because he could hear Britain since he was only a couple of feet away. Either way, Italy turned around to see Britain right out the window.
    "Aah! Germany, help me! Britain is here!" Italy screamed. He ran away at supernatural speed.
    "Damn it!" Britain cursed. "This just limits the time I have for the spell! But I can still do it. I'll slowly make Germany pay for the London Blitz..." He opened the window and went inside. He stood right in front of the fettuccine Italy was making. He pulled out his spell book and started chanting. "Santa badara rapsta kolantroz queltrop..." He pointed at the fettuccine, and it glowed a light blue before returning to normal. The Brit grinned before he heard footsteps coming towards the kitchen. He ran off before Germany could catch him.
    The German crashed into the kitchen with pistol in hand. "Britain! Vhere ze hell are you?!" he yelled, ready to shoot the scheiße out of Britain. He looked all around, but couldn't find him anywhere. "Verdammt!" he swore. "Italy! You can come back in, he is gone." He looked at the mess Italy made, sighed, and started cleaning. He was already there, so why not?
    Italy popped his head through the door, shaking a little. When he saw Germany was right, he went inside. "C-Can you-a stay with-a me in case he-a comes back?" Italy asked. Germany looked up at him.
    "Nein. I have too much vork to do to take care of you right now." Germany protested.
    "Come on! Pleeeeeeeeeeeeease?" he whined, giving another puppy dog face.
    "Fine." the German sighed. "How long vill it take?"
    "Yay~" Italy cheered. "Well, I just-a started boiling the pasta, so-a fifteen minutes~"
    "I'll stay vith you until then." he said, going back to cleaning.
(Time skip brought to you by the tomato box fairy)
    "It's-a done~ Do-a you want any Germany?" Italy asked.
    "Danke, but nein. I'm not hungry right now." Germany declined.
    "Okay. I'll-a same some for-a my fratello when he-a gets here~" the Italian chirped.
    "Mein gott, he's coming here?" Germany asked.
    "Si~ After he-a picks me up, we're-a going to-a big brother Spain's!" he replied happily. He put his pasta into a bowl and got out a fork.
    "When?" Germany asked, not pleased at this new development. He could already tell that he wasn't going to be going back to his work for a while. Italy looked at his watch.
    "In a couple of-a minutes~" he replied, then ate a giant bite of his pasta. "Ve? This-a tastes funny..." he mumbled.
    "Vhy didn't you give me more varning?!" Germany asked. Normally, the Italian would have started crying and apologizing, but for once in he was in a rare silence. When he finally made a noise, it was a sneeze. "Geshundeit. Italy, are you okay? It isn't like you to be this quiet." Germany was starting to get worried.
    Without warning, Italy collapsed onto the ground. He started whimpering, which was the only sound he made. Then, right before Germany's eyes, he started shrinking. The German was in mute shock as Italy shrunk from 172 cm to 7.5 cm. "I-Italy?" Germany asked, still in shock. He went slowly towards the Italian.
    Italy looked around confusedly. Everything seemed so...big. Then he heard Germany's voice. He looked up and screamed when he saw the German towering over him. He ran away from him and tried hiding behind a chair leg, shivering and crying uncontrollably
    "I-Italy, i-it's alright. You know I von't hurt you." Germany promised. He went down on all fours and slowly went closer to the Italian.
    "Y-You-a pinky swear?" Italy asked. He was still trembling, but it was slowly getting less violent.
     Germany gave a soft smile and put his pinky in front of Italy. "Ja. I pinky svear." he promised. Italy stopped shivering and started smiling again. He took his miniature pinky and curled it against Germany's. Well, he curled as much as he could. Germany's pinky was a little more than half his new size. Italy giggled at this, proving he was his normal self again.
    Germany took his free hand and delicately scooped the Italian up. Italy gave a little squeak and clung onto his fingers.
    "Sorry. I should have varned you I vas going to do that." he apologized.
    "It's-a alright~ I trust-a you Germany~" Italy said, letting go of the German's fingers.
    "Good. I'm going to lift you up to my face now, alright?" Germany asked.
    "Si~ Go-a ahead captain~" he chirped. Germany slowly lifted Italy up to his face, then used his other hand to lift himself up from the floor. Italy was just staring in childish awe as the distance from the floor grew by meters compared to him. "I'm-a so small..." he murmured to himself.
    "And it's all that bastard Britain's fault. That must have been vhy he vas here." Germany growled. Italy yelped at Germany's change in attitude, and Germany went back to normal.
    "S-So, you're-a going to-a find a way to change-a me back, right?" he asked.
    "Ja. Of course I vill. I'll find Britain and beat the scheiße out of him..." Germany promised. "For now, I vill take care of you and protect you."
    "Don't you-a already do-a that now?" the Italian asked.
    "...Ja...but now I'll be extra careful." he replied. All of a sudden a rapid knock was heard from the front door.
    "Open the damn door, potato bastard! It's-a bad enough that-a my fratello wants to-a spend all of-a his fucking time with you!" Romano yelled, obviously impatient like he always was with Germany.
    "Verdammt." the German muttered underneath his breath. "I'm going to have to hide you for now."
    "But-a why? I want to-a see my fratello~ He won't-a hurt me!" italy protested.
    "Vell...fine." Germany sighed. "But let me tell him first so he doesn't freak out. So hide just for now."
    "Si~ Where-a should I-a hide, captain?" he asked.
    "Somevhere vhere neither of us can step on you accidentally..." Germany thought out loud.
    Italy shivered at the thought. "H-How about in-a your shirt pocket? That-a way you'll know I'm-a safe~" he suggested.
    "That's actually a good idea." Germany said. "You von't be scared of being inside a closed space, vill you?"
    "No, because you can-a always leave-a the flap open~ Also, I-a always feel safe when I'm-a with you~" the Italian chirped.
    "I-Italy..." Germany stuttered, a light dusting of pink appearing on his face.
    "OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR YOU-A DAMN GERMAN!" Romano screamed, the pounding getting louder. Italy yelped at the loudness of Romano's voice At his current size, Romano's voice sounded like ten trains going down the tracks at the same time! He covered his ears and started whimpering and crying again.
    "I'm coming!" Germany yelled back. He tried calming Italy down by stroking the Italian's back soothingly. Italy purred at the strokes and nuzzled Germany's fingers, smiling. Germany blushed and carefully placed Italy inside his pocket, making sure to keep the flap open.
    Italy didn't make a sound as he was moved into Germany's pocket. The cloth was soft, almost like a blanket to him. He could feel the heat from Germany's chest, and if he pressed his ear close, he could hear the German's heartbeat. These two together, combined with the fact he had tired himself out when he was panicking, made him tired. He gave a yawn and slowly fell asleep in Germany's pocket.
    While Italy was sleeping, Germany was walking to the door, careful not to make any sudden movements so he wouldn't scare Italy. He made it to the door, gave a loud sigh, and opened the door.
    "It-a took you long-a enough potato bastard!" Romano said. Miraculously, Italy stayed asleep. Maybe because Romano wasn't as loud as before. "Where is-a my fratello, anyway? He's-a almost always prancing around you."
    "About Italy...I think you'll vant to come inside." Germany said, moving aside so Romano could come in.
    "Why would-a I want-a to go inside? Where-a the fuck is-a my fratello?! Romano protested.
    "Because something has happened to your brother." Germany admitted, his eyebrow twitching at Romano's refusal to obey.
    "You-a did something to-a him! I-a knew you-a would! WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU-A DONE WITH MI FRATTELO?!" Romano yelled. This, of course, woke Italy up. He covered his ears again, whimpering and crying yet again. Even though Germany told him to stay hidden for now, he couln't take it anymore.He popped out of Germany's pocket.
    "F-Fratello...s-stop yelling...It-a hurts." he whimpered. Romano's eyes widened when he saw his miniscule brother.
    "V-Veneziano?" he stuttered.
    "Si, it's-a me..." Italy said, his tears starting to slow down.
    "Now, before you do anything rash-" Germany started. He didn't have time to finish as Romano snatched his brother out of Germany's pocket. Italy yelped as he was violently grabbed. Romano ran away from Germany's house with Italian speed. Germany couldn't do anything to catch up with him since he had no idea where Romano was running to.
    After a little while, Romano stopped when he reached a tomato field somewhere in Spain. He panted, trying to catch his breath, when he took a look at his brother.
    Italy was crying, shaking violently in Romano's hand. The journey for him had been a horrible experience. The world had gone by so fast, everything had been a blur of colors. And the speed Romano had gone at almost made him murl. He looked up at Romano. "W-Why did-a you run from-a Germany?" he asked, still sobbing.
    "Because that-a mother fucker did-a this to you! I couldn't-a just leave-a you with-a that asshole so he could-a do God knows what?" Romano said.
    "B-But he-a didn't! I was-a cooking pasta and-a Britain came! I ran away to-a get Germany, but-a when we got-a back, he was-a gone! Then-a I ate the pasta and-a I shrunk! Germany was-a going to-a take care of me when-a you came!" Italy explained through tears. Romano stared at his brother. Now he felt kind of guilty for just taking him. Though he would never admit it. NEVER YOU FUCKASSES.
    "Well it-a time you-a stopped depending on-a that fucktard so-a much! I'll-a take care of-a you!" Romano said, trying to give Italy and himself a good reason fo taking his brother. "I can-a do a much better job than-a that asshole!"
    "R-Really? You'll-a take care of me?" Italy asked, slowly starting to stop crying.
    "Si, now stop-a making such a big fucking deal out of-a it!" Romano commanded.
    "Okay..." Italy said, pouting a little. Then his stomach growled. "Fratello? I'm-a hungry now. I only had-a one bite of-a that pasta..."
    Romano sighed and plucked a nearby, fresh tomato with his free hand. "Here. Since-a you're so-a damn small, this-a should fill you."
    "Grazie, fratello~" Italy thanked, all signs that he had been crying gone. The tomato Romano was holding was only a little smaller that he was. He happily bit into it. When he was done with his meal, he had made a decent sized dent in the tomato. "I'm-a done~"
    "Well guess what? Now I'm fucking hungry..." Romano said. He grabbed another tomato and almost bit into it when he stopped himself. "Damn it! I just-a remembered that-a stupid fucking bet I made with-a Spain! I can't-a eat a tomato or else-a I lose seventy four god damn euros!"
    "Well...if-a you can't-a eat tomatoes, you can-a eat me!" Italy offered, oddly cheery considering what he had just said.
    "The fuck?! Why-a the crapola would you offer something like-a that?1 I could-a kill you!" Romano asked, shocked Italy was even thinking about it.
    "Because I-a trust you. I-a know you-a aren't as strong as-a Germany, but you're-a mi grande fratello. Even-a more so now~" And-a I know you'll-a protect me." Italy said, going into one of his rare, serious modes. Romano stared at his 'little' brother, both shocked and somewhat happy that he had complimented him.
    "Fine. If-a it gets you to-a shut up, I-a will." Romano said. He brought Italy up to his mouth, hesitating a little. Italy gave him a nod of encouragement, and he opened his mouth wide. He put Italy in his mouth, surprisingly gently considering this was Romano, before closing it shut. His eyes widened as Italy's taste hit his mouth. It was like pasta with a hint of wine, but better. He eagerly licked his brother.
    From inside Romano's mouth, Italy was giggling. It was rather dark inside, but Romano's tongue exploring him tickled and made up for it.
    Romano continued this for a while before his stomach growled hungrily. He slowly tilted his head back, then swallowed his brother whole. He could feel him going down until he went past his collarbone. Then he felt the Italian plop inside his stomach.
    Italy continued to giggle when Romano tilted his head back. The ride down Romano's esophagus felt just like a water slide. He gave a little yelp when he fell from Romano's esophagus to his stomach, but then giggled again as he landed. "How did-a I taste?" he asked.
    "Delizioso..." Romano purred. Italy giggled more when he heard Romano. Then, for no real reason, he started rubbing his brother's stomach walls."
    Romano just purred even more. "W-What-a the fuck are-a you doing?" he asked.
    "I'm-a massaging you!" Italy replied.
    "Why?"
    "Because. I-a want to~" Italy responded. "Now, can-a we go to big brother Spain's house?"
    "Si." Romano agreed, and he started walking to Spain's house, still purring, and with a smile on his face for once.
*Time skip brought to you by Spain's cafe*
    Romano sluggishly opened the door to Spain's house. The Spaniard always left his door unlocked whenever he was coming. Italy's rubs had made him sleepy, and he just wanted to curl up into a ball and sleep. Italy was tired as well from giving Romano so many rubs. Then, Spain walked into the room, smiling like he always was.
    "Hola Romano~" Spain greeted.
    "Shut-a up asshole. I'm-a sleeping on-a your couch." Romano said before Spain could say anything else. He plopped himself onto Spain's couch, stomach up because of Italy.
    "Buonanotte, fratello..." Italy yawned, closing his eyes. Romano was too tired to speak, and just rubbed the spot where Italy was, getting a soft purr in reply.
    "Romano, where is Italy?" Spain asked. Romano simply flipped the Spaniard off before he fell asleep as well, one hand on his stomach.