[Fic] Just Wait for the Engagement
Just Wait for the Enagement: For the kink meme prompt: England going all "If you ever do anything to hurt him" on America's potential lover.
Characters/Pairings: America/Romano, England, Spain. Germany for less than half a second.
Ratings/Warnings: America being clueless, England being scary, Romano acting like...Romano.
Word Count: 1,031
“And I think that would be a good place to conclude today’s meeting,” Germany announced as Spain and Sweden herded the flaming cattle from the meeting room, “We’ll pick off where we left off tomorrow, wherever that was,” he stepped down from the podium as the room was engulfed with the sound of the other nations packing up their things and chattering.
Romano wasted no time shoving his notes covered in games of hangman with Belgium into his briefcase and sprinting for the door. He had plans for tonight, big plans. After all tonight was date night, and America, finally, allowed him pick what they were going to do. For once they were going to have a romantic night that didn’t involve over-processed food and murderous extra-terrestrial housemates.
“Hey Romano!” America greeted eagerly when he caught up with him in the hallway. He wasted no time in grabbing Romano’s hand and kissing his cheek. “Are you ready for tonight?”
“Heh,” Romano smirked, doing a very good job, in his opinion, not blushing or reacting to the displays of affection, “A bit impatient aren’t we? Ready to concede that I am more romantic than you and your Hollywood could ever hope to be?”
“I still don’t see why we can’t just hang out at my place and watch movies like we usually do…”
“Tonight’s my night to show you what real romance is about, bastard.”
“Who died and made you the master of romance?”
“I’m Italian. It comes with the territory.”
America chuckled, but before Romano could demand to know what was so funny, a hand grabbed his shoulder, causing him to jump and scream on instinct.
“Oh, hey England!” America waved cheerfully, “What’s up?”
“Very well thank you,” England smiled in a way that was far too pleasant for the deadly aura he was giving off, “Can I borrow Romano for a bit? Just to talk policy and all that.”
Romano gave America a look that clearly conveyed the message ‘Please don’t, he’s going to kill me, can’t you fucking see it in his eyes?’ but, unsurprisingly, it went over his head.
“Sure!” he smiled that idiotic grin that would have made Romano face-palm had he not been frozen in fear, “Pick me up at six alright Romano? See ya!” he gave his lover one last kiss on the cheek, ignoring England’s death glare, and left the building, leaving Romano alone in the hall with England.
“Y-You know,” Romano said when he somehow found his voice, “I-if you really need to talk policy, I’m sure Veneciano is around here somewhere…”
England responded by dragging him back into the now-empty meeting room, shoving him into the nearest chair, and shutting and locking the door.
“So,” England started, slowly turning around to glare at Romano, “You and America huh?”
Romano was too busy using every fiber of his being not to break down into a trembling mass of his former self to answer, not that it mattered because England continued on without waiting for his response.
“You two seem to hit it off quite well…America seems happy, at least, for now.”
“H-he’s usually happier when I’m a-alive, in case you were wondering…”
“America’s happiness is, rather important to me you know. He smiles when he’s around you... I haven’t seen him smile like that…well, it's been a while.”
“Ah, w-well,” Romano swallowed audibly, “I-I want him happy too, Lord England.”
England chuckled before taking three strides over to the chair Romano was sitting in and slammed his hands on its arms, leaning in to look the quivering nation right in the eyes, “I know how you treat your lovers, Romano Italia. I’ve seen the damage you’ve done to your previous ones," he lifted his finger and harshly poked Romano's chest with each word, "I. Will. Not. Let. You. Hurt. Him.”
Romano sunk as far back into the chair as he could, threw his hands up, and recited a mantra of “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.”
“He’s gone through enough heartbreak as is,” England hissed, “If he goes through anymore because of you, I can guarantee you will not be able to out run me. There will be nowhere for you to run, nowhere for you to hide. I will find you.”
“I’m not I’m not I won’t I won’t,” Romano cried.
“Of course you won’t,” England smirked, “Because if you make America cry, or even so much as whimper, it would make me quite upset, and when I get upset, well, I believe you’re already aware of what happens to things that upset me.”
Romano was very aware, if vague memories of a beaten-up Spain coming home night after night meant anything, so he could only manage to gulp and concentrate most of his willpower on not wetting his pants and screaming like a little girl.
England stood up, still smirking, and walked over to the door to unlock it, eyes never leaving Romano’s, “I suggest, if you enjoy your internal organs where they currently are, you make sure he’s perfectly content and happy during the time he’s spending with you. Savvy?”
Through the multiple layers of pure fear that now made up Romano’s psyche, he somehow managed to get his head to nod the affirmative. This seemed to satisfy England, as his smile softened, though his eyes still retained their murderous edge.
“Excellent. Glad we had this chat. If I heard correctly you’re taking America out on a date tonight yes? I do hope that goes well for you…” he smiled before leaving Romano alone in the room. When he was sure England wasn’t coming back, he all but passed out in the chair.
America’s family was fucking crazy.
***
America had nothing better to do after the meeting and decided to wait for Romano outside the building, but he and England were taking longer than he originally thought they would. It was starting to get boring, and he could only watch the people walk by for so long before - hey a squirrel!
“Hola America,” said nation looked up to see Spain smiling cheerfully at him, though his eyes seemed a bit…off. Oh well, it wasn’t really America’s problem.
“Hey Spain, what’s up?”
Spain responded by grabbing his shoulder and squeezing a little tighter than usual.
“I think you and I need to have a talk…”
Characters/Pairings: America/Romano, England, Spain. Germany for less than half a second.
Ratings/Warnings: America being clueless, England being scary, Romano acting like...Romano.
Word Count: 1,031
“And I think that would be a good place to conclude today’s meeting,” Germany announced as Spain and Sweden herded the flaming cattle from the meeting room, “We’ll pick off where we left off tomorrow, wherever that was,” he stepped down from the podium as the room was engulfed with the sound of the other nations packing up their things and chattering.
Romano wasted no time shoving his notes covered in games of hangman with Belgium into his briefcase and sprinting for the door. He had plans for tonight, big plans. After all tonight was date night, and America, finally, allowed him pick what they were going to do. For once they were going to have a romantic night that didn’t involve over-processed food and murderous extra-terrestrial housemates.
“Hey Romano!” America greeted eagerly when he caught up with him in the hallway. He wasted no time in grabbing Romano’s hand and kissing his cheek. “Are you ready for tonight?”
“Heh,” Romano smirked, doing a very good job, in his opinion, not blushing or reacting to the displays of affection, “A bit impatient aren’t we? Ready to concede that I am more romantic than you and your Hollywood could ever hope to be?”
“I still don’t see why we can’t just hang out at my place and watch movies like we usually do…”
“Tonight’s my night to show you what real romance is about, bastard.”
“Who died and made you the master of romance?”
“I’m Italian. It comes with the territory.”
America chuckled, but before Romano could demand to know what was so funny, a hand grabbed his shoulder, causing him to jump and scream on instinct.
“Oh, hey England!” America waved cheerfully, “What’s up?”
“Very well thank you,” England smiled in a way that was far too pleasant for the deadly aura he was giving off, “Can I borrow Romano for a bit? Just to talk policy and all that.”
Romano gave America a look that clearly conveyed the message ‘Please don’t, he’s going to kill me, can’t you fucking see it in his eyes?’ but, unsurprisingly, it went over his head.
“Sure!” he smiled that idiotic grin that would have made Romano face-palm had he not been frozen in fear, “Pick me up at six alright Romano? See ya!” he gave his lover one last kiss on the cheek, ignoring England’s death glare, and left the building, leaving Romano alone in the hall with England.
“Y-You know,” Romano said when he somehow found his voice, “I-if you really need to talk policy, I’m sure Veneciano is around here somewhere…”
England responded by dragging him back into the now-empty meeting room, shoving him into the nearest chair, and shutting and locking the door.
“So,” England started, slowly turning around to glare at Romano, “You and America huh?”
Romano was too busy using every fiber of his being not to break down into a trembling mass of his former self to answer, not that it mattered because England continued on without waiting for his response.
“You two seem to hit it off quite well…America seems happy, at least, for now.”
“H-he’s usually happier when I’m a-alive, in case you were wondering…”
“America’s happiness is, rather important to me you know. He smiles when he’s around you... I haven’t seen him smile like that…well, it's been a while.”
“Ah, w-well,” Romano swallowed audibly, “I-I want him happy too, Lord England.”
England chuckled before taking three strides over to the chair Romano was sitting in and slammed his hands on its arms, leaning in to look the quivering nation right in the eyes, “I know how you treat your lovers, Romano Italia. I’ve seen the damage you’ve done to your previous ones," he lifted his finger and harshly poked Romano's chest with each word, "I. Will. Not. Let. You. Hurt. Him.”
Romano sunk as far back into the chair as he could, threw his hands up, and recited a mantra of “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.”
“He’s gone through enough heartbreak as is,” England hissed, “If he goes through anymore because of you, I can guarantee you will not be able to out run me. There will be nowhere for you to run, nowhere for you to hide. I will find you.”
“I’m not I’m not I won’t I won’t,” Romano cried.
“Of course you won’t,” England smirked, “Because if you make America cry, or even so much as whimper, it would make me quite upset, and when I get upset, well, I believe you’re already aware of what happens to things that upset me.”
Romano was very aware, if vague memories of a beaten-up Spain coming home night after night meant anything, so he could only manage to gulp and concentrate most of his willpower on not wetting his pants and screaming like a little girl.
England stood up, still smirking, and walked over to the door to unlock it, eyes never leaving Romano’s, “I suggest, if you enjoy your internal organs where they currently are, you make sure he’s perfectly content and happy during the time he’s spending with you. Savvy?”
Through the multiple layers of pure fear that now made up Romano’s psyche, he somehow managed to get his head to nod the affirmative. This seemed to satisfy England, as his smile softened, though his eyes still retained their murderous edge.
“Excellent. Glad we had this chat. If I heard correctly you’re taking America out on a date tonight yes? I do hope that goes well for you…” he smiled before leaving Romano alone in the room. When he was sure England wasn’t coming back, he all but passed out in the chair.
America’s family was fucking crazy.
***
America had nothing better to do after the meeting and decided to wait for Romano outside the building, but he and England were taking longer than he originally thought they would. It was starting to get boring, and he could only watch the people walk by for so long before - hey a squirrel!
“Hola America,” said nation looked up to see Spain smiling cheerfully at him, though his eyes seemed a bit…off. Oh well, it wasn’t really America’s problem.
“Hey Spain, what’s up?”
Spain responded by grabbing his shoulder and squeezing a little tighter than usual.
“I think you and I need to have a talk…”