Lighting the fuse may result in a bang - 9.b
anonymous
February 5 2010, 04:37:31 UTC
"Hola."
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Romano whispers, huffing like an angry cat.
"I want to talk."
"About how you disappear for years and then reappear out of nowhere to make a scene?"
Antonio frowns. "You didn't call either."
"I was angry at you."
"You had no reason to."
"Oh, didn't I now? You were the one who told me we probably shouldn't see each other for a
while, and I was the one who told you it was bullshit. And you still have to explain to me where
all that crap about you feeling guilty came from."
"But I do feel guilty about you, Lovi. You were like a son to me, and I used your love
to..."
"You did nothing of the sorts. Stop treating me like a fucking child, Spain."
"I did use you, thought. And mistreat you too. Not physically, but still... I
manipulated you."
"It's all in the past."
"Doesn't mean that you should simply forgive me and take me back in your life as a lover.
It's not right."
"Let me decide what's right for me and what's not!"
"It's not right for me either, isn't it?" A sad smile. "And be honest Lovino, even if I were
to overcome my own guilt and come back to you, would you still want me?"
Romano blinks, then frowns, biting his lip and avoiding Spain's eyes.
"Thought so." Then Spain's smile becomes his usual, beaming one, and Romano remembers what
made him fall for the man in the first place - his incredible ability to turn all the bad things
that life throws at him into reasons to be happy.
"You know, I've been thinking about you and me, and I realized I wasn't that good at being
your boss. Never been able to smack you around like you deserved sometimes, because I was so
scared you'd hate me. Maybe I'll make for a better big brother!"
"Spain. Oh, Antonio." Romano tangles his fingers with Spain's around the rings, rests his forehead on the fence. Happy noises start coming from the church.
"I think the bride is here." Spain surprises him with a quick peck on the forehead.
"Vaya con Dios, hermanito."
- Vaya con Dios, hermanito: along the lines of 'May God be with you, little brother'. It's a really old-fashioned way of saying good-bye.
Lighting the fuse may result in a bang - 11
anonymous
February 5 2010, 04:40:04 UTC
The first thing that Romano notices while coming home from the marriage is a little Trabant
parked right in front of his house, and he almost hits a street lamp with his own Fiat. He parks
carefully, throws his jacket over one shoulder (the day has warmed, and anyway he has been
eating for the past four hours) and walks over to the low gate to his little garden, trying hard
not to shake. Prussia is sitting on his front door's steps, but he stands quickly when he sees
him. Romano opens the small gate and enters, and then stills on the path halfway to the door,
raising his eyes to meet Prussia's.
"Hi."
"Hi."
"I thought... I was beginning to think that you had... gone to your brother's and... you told me that you do that sometimes when you're upset. Or that... actually I was sure you had seen me from the window and you simply weren't opening because you hated me now."
Romano almost laughs. "So you decided to sit on my front door until I ran out of supplies."
Prussia's grin has a soft edge, and it does weird things to Romano's stomach. "Classic siege strategy."
"You remember I've got a backdoor."
"Sure I do." It takes a second and a positively leering Prussia before Romano gets it.
"Oh, fuck you idiot." Romano walks to his front door, keys in hand, and as soon as he's close enough Prussia grabs his waist, pushes him close and kisses him.
It's exactly this that he missed the most, Romano thinks. Not the kiss in itself, but Prussia, the way he has to make him recognize the obvious by doing the unexpected. He answers the kiss, and his jacket falls to the ground when he puts his arms around his neck. He's lifted a bit from the ground (he can feel Prussia's muscles shift against him, under the clothes) and pressed softly to his front door.
When they part, they're both panting.
"Where have you been?"
"A marriage."
"Not your own, I hope."
"I was more in the mood for a funeral."
They kiss again, and one of Romano's legs goes between Prussia's, to push against his rapidly hardening cock - it takes some effort to separate, but they do, and the blonde presses their foreheads together and steps back a little, so there is some space between their bodies.
"Hnm. I know, we still need to talk."
Prussia nods.
"Let's try and not fight again, because I passed the whole Mass thinking of the way your eyes roll in the back of your
head when I do that thing with my mouth, and I definitely want to see that again."
Prussia swallows and nods again.
This time Romano is actually allowed to pull out his keys and open the door, while Prussia gathers the jacket and follows. They both sit on the couch, nervous now that they have to leave the language they're most used to and explain what's going on in their respective heads with actual words.
Re: Lighting the fuse may result in a bang - 12
anonymous
February 5 2010, 04:41:34 UTC
"Uh... Spain called me. After he talked with you, I guess. He said... Ok, let's go straight to the point. Why the fuck did you lie to me? About sex with him, I mean."
"How did I lie?"
"He said it was years since your last time together."
"I never said otherwise."
"You said that he dropped by and then you had sex, and you said it didn't happen since we started dating... ok, so you didn't lie. But you have to admit, 'I haven't seen him in years' has another ring to it."
Romano clears his throath, and starts looking at the floor's tiling with sudden interest.
"It's... complicated. And you have to admit you kind of overreacted there."
"Yeah, well, I was jealous, okay? And... nothing."
"What."
"I said nothing!"
There's another long, embarrassing silence, until Lovino starts to chuckle. "Dio, we
suck at this."
Prussia answers with a grin of his own. "We really both fail at this couple thing, isn't
it?"
"Looks like that. But hey, great sex."
"Yeah, we're good at it. Speaking of which," Prussia quickly pushes Romano on the couch,
pinning him. "are we done talking?"
"I don't know, I think we aren't but I'm also afraid to grow a vagina."
"Now that's an interesting image. By the way," and Prussia can't help but grin "I saw
Hungary."
Romano narrows his eyes. "Oh, did you now? Has she gotten fat?"
"Nah, pretty as usual. And kind, for once, too."
"Oh, really."
"Yes. She offered me cake and didn't clobber me in the head with the damn frying pan, unlike
a certain someone I could name."
"Ah, cake. I bet that boring-ass husband of hers made it."
"And you know why she was so kind?"
"Even your company is better than Austria's? Drugs?"
"Because I passed the whole two hours of visit pathetically whining about how much I
regretted fighting with you, and how pretty you are, and what a great cook, and how great the
sex is..."
Lovino's narrowed eyes go wide, then narrow again, and his hands escape Prussia's to grab a
pillow and start hitting the blonde with it.
"You asshole! You know how jealous I am!"
"Yes, I know... Ouff!" There's some confused fighting and they both end up on the floor, with
Romano on top, straddling Prussia's lap. They stop, panting, and Prussia's cheeks are aflame,
his eyes filled with childish glee, mischievous grin back at full force: finally Romano
understands what possessed Spain every time that he felt compelled to scream 'sooo cuuute' at
the top of his lungs. Not that he's going to actually do that, mind you.
"What's that smile?"
He bends to whisper in Prussia's ear. "Don't think I haven't noticed the way you changed
topic. You were going to tell me something."
"I don't know what you're tal- Ah!" Romano is nibbling at his ear, one hand sliding under his
t-shirt. Prussia does the same under Romano's dress shirt, and the sensation of warm skin under
his fingertips gives him a sort of weird chill, similar to the one he gets when he's drunk.
He sighs. "Ok. I was going to tell you something, but..." He shakes his head.
Lighting the fuse may result in a bang - 14
anonymous
February 5 2010, 04:44:46 UTC
"Pff, ok." Romano takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes in concentration - he looks
gorgeous, and maybe Prussia can tell him this when his turn comes. "Years ago, we were going
steady, and I was head over heels for him. Seriously, I was completely convinced there was nobody else in the world for me. Then, one day, he gave me this long, contorted speech about penance for his old sins, which basically meant that he felt guilty for taking my innocence," he snorts "and well... he may have sort of a point... but this is all really complicated and doesn't regard you anyway.
"So, this whole thing becomes the classical 'let's not see each other for a while', after which he disappears. Just like that. Except reunions in which we were forced to see each other, like family dinners and the EU and such. I ignored him, but... I wasn't able to let go. For fucking years. Even the day you came here, you know, our first time... I was waiting for him to just waltz in the door with his big dumb smile and ask me to forgive him, and I would have done it. Oh, I would have whined, and yelled, and hit him, and called him a fucking bastard and everything, but in the end I would have forgiven him.
"And then you came and everything changed. I knew I had to clarify with him one day, to avoid... well, exactly what happened, and... But I kept on putting it off because I... I was scared as shit, actually. You know... I was sort of kind of happy, with you, maybe, and I was scared that if he asked me back I... but then he appeared, and you know what how I felt?
"Outraged. Not even at him, well, at him too, but mostly at myself for waiting for something so stupid for so long. That's why I ran after him, that's what I wanted to say. But then you stopped me and started asking question, and well, I've never been good at holding my rage... and I was so ashamed. I mean, you seem to like me, what were you going to think of me if I told you the whole pathetic story? And the more you forced out of me the more angry I got, because you weren't suppose to know this side of me. Oh, God, I'm such a fucking loser. I screwed this up for everybody."
There's a short silence, and Romano screwes his eyes shut, holds his breath.
Then, Romano feels Prussia pulling up from his position and pressing his lips on his,
lightly. He opens his eyes, surprised, but it's the other now that has his eyes closed - and he's got long streaks of wet from his eyes to his chin. The thought of Prussia crying is so surreal that Romano almost doesn't believe it at first. He cups his face in one hand and kisses him, passionate and
Lighting the fuse may result in a bang - 15
anonymous
February 5 2010, 04:46:40 UTC
Prussia sniffles, surprised, while the brunette starts raining kisses on his cheeks, eyelids, chin, even more when he goes back on his lips and he can taste salt, because he hadn't realized he was crying. He can't remember when it was the last time he cried while sober actually. No, wait. It was a week ago, when they fought. He closes his eyes. Here goes
nothing.
"I was so jealous. I was so fucking jealous. I was sure, sure you were with me just because
you had no other choice, and the moment a better option came around you'd have dropped me. You
could do better than me, you know? So much better. I mean, Spain, people can point at him on a
map. And no, don't come telling me that it's the same for you because it isn't. You've found
yourself a role in your brother's life. West keeps me around out of fucking good heart, because
I'm us - "
A sudden panic washes over him, because this is just too much, he can't say this. He
opens his eyes, only to see Romano crying too. He makes another surprised noise.
"Ah." Romano says, wiping his cheeks with a sort of sad smile. "It's all your fault. Tears are contagious."
Prussia grabs him and kisses him, pulling him down on the floor, until they're pressed flush
against each other, breathing trought their noses.
When they finally part, Romano whispers "My turn again?"
Prussia nods.
He can feel Romano taking a deep breath, like he's about to dive underwater. "I'm jealous.
I've been jealous of somebody all my life. Often more than one person. Even now, I'm still
jealous of my brother. But it's the first time that I feel I can do something about it.
Something to stop the person I..." exhale, inhale "love from leaving."
"Why should your brother leav-augh!" Romano has bitten him on the neck - not a playful
nibble, an harsh, marking bite, probably even drawing blood, and Prussia's eyes are full of
tears - he's about to shove him off and ask him if he has gone insane, but obviously the pain
helps him focus because he finally understands.
"Oh. Uh. Yeah. That's..." Deep breath. Remember facing Russia, or Poland, or France, or hell,
he has been at war with everybody at one point or the other, often kicking their ass, this
little Mediterranean half-nation can't scare him more, can he?
"I-That's actually the reason I keep bringing up Hungary. I love it when you're jealous.
Makes me feel wanted, and... ahhh..." Romano is tending to the bite mark, lapping at it
tenderly, and Prussia feels like he's melting into the floor. But no! He is going to finish a at
least this fucking sentence, because if Romano can be all sappy and romantic and open about his
feelings then so can he. Fuck, he's probably better at it now that he thinks of it, what
with his Romanticism and shit (and nevermind that it was more West's doing).
"Makes me feel wanted. It's been years since the last time I felt like that. Sometimes..."
Oh, God, he's actually doing this, isn't it? "Sometimes I hate you. For what you do to me
without even trying, making me think of things I've forgotten. You know, how does it feel to be
- real. Strong. Worthy. It sucks. Because I know I don't deserve it, and I know that one day -
oh, you're so fucking perfect and too much for me, and you're going to leave one day, and the
thought drives me insane because I love you. Here. Said it."
Prussia is almost purring now, and a stray part of Romano can't help but find him sexy,
despite the fact he's basically dripping with rage, or maybe just because of that.
"Oh, but I was the one over you, Liebling, don't you remember? The one who was making
you moan and whine, and then Spain arrives and everything ends. I may not be a good friend,
but what are you to Spain? Why he still has your key, why can he arrive uninvit..."
"E' una cazzata! He just... he drops by, sometimes, ok? But it was months from the
last time!"
"And why exactly wasn't I privy to this information?"
"Because it never happened since we started... doing. But it's nothing of your
business!"
"Ah. And when he dropped by, did you do with him?"
"Sì! Va bene? Sì! We were doing it, everybody knows that we were, and why the fuck
this is suddenly the most important event of my fucking life I don't know! What, you were
planning on marrying a virgin?"
He must not grab Romano by the t-shirt collar and slam him against the fridge's door, nothing
good can come out of that, remember what West said about anger management, he must
not...
"And, after months, he still has the keys and comes and goes as he pleases?"
"Yeah, so?"
"You know, if my boyfriend was fucking my best friend behind my back, I'd like to know,
Liebling."
Suddenly, Romano's set jaw opens in this vaguely histerical grin that makes Prussia want to
drive to Madrid and throttle everybody he meets on the street until he gets to him.
"You know, he could say the very same thing about you, tesoro."
- Liebling: 'My beloved, my dear'.
- E' una minchiata!: something like 'it's nothing important', only really vulgar.
- Sì! Va bene? Sì!: 'Yes! Happy now? Yes!'
- tesoro: lit. 'my treasure', basically 'my dear, my beloved'.
Reply
Prussia grabs Romano by the t-shirt collar and slams him against the fridge's door, knocking
the wind out of him - Romano has the presence of mind of letting the knife go, because, despite
everything, he still doesn't want to kill Prussia - he finds the first handle he can reach in
desperate fumbling. It's a frying pan, and he uses it to hit Prussia square on the top of the
head, with a loud 'duuun' that makes him almost chuckle. He's dropped, still a bit
breathless.
"You fucking asshole! You used a pan!" Prussia is this far from starting to
foam at the mouth, and it takes a second to remember what Veneziano told him about Hungary's
peculiar relationship with him. And when he remembers he finds himself even more enraged.
So he smiles, just like Spain taught him.
"Hn. Quante stronzate. You dare accuse me of cheating, and then you see a pan and get
all nostalgic about that fucking mean bitch."
It takes a second for the pain to register, but when it does Romano has to curl on his
stomach - fuck, Prussia packs one hell of a punch. However, despite being on his knees on
the floor, dry-heaving, Romano still has the strenght to be
absolutely outraged.
"You punched me."
"Ja." Prussia does not feel guilty. At all. So stop asking.
"You punched me. Over her."
Prussia winces a little at the venom in Romano's voice, and when he rises, still panting,
eyes reduced to slits, he winces even more. He may have hit him a bit harder than he meant,
maybe...
Suddenly a blinding pain on his right eye makes him see stars, and he realizes he just
catched a dish on his face. How did Romano get to the cupboard so quickly? Fuck. He swallows
blood, a cut lip probably.
- Quante stronzate.: 'What bullshit'.
Reply
"Goddamit Romano, bist du verrückt?"
Another dish lands with a crash right over his shoulder, and he throws himself on the floor,
starts crawling towards the door, a neverending streak of curses in all languages available
coming from both sides.
"Schifoso figlio di puttana! If I see you again in my house you'll have la
mafia on your ass!"
"Ah, yeah, like you can scare me, you fucking little Versager!"
Another dish goes flying.
"Schlampe!"
"Asshole!"
"Son of a bitch!"
"Testa di cazzo!"
"Hure!"
Prussia has finally reached the door, and Romano stops throwing dishes (he's out of reach
now).
"Yeah! Go! Go, you bastardo and don't ever come back!"
"Oh, trust me, this is the last time - the last time you hear of me!"
Romano suddenly stops in the middle of elaborating another ferocious insult, because between
his words Prussia has made this little pause that sounded suspiciously like a sob. But before he
can say anything, Prussia is out, slamming the door, and he's alone in his house. As usual.
He lets himself slide against the cupboard to the floor, and hugs his knees. After a while,
he hears the coughing of the engine of Prussia's car, an ancient Trabant he refuses to get rid
of.
"Maledetto bastardo." he whispers to nobody in particular.
It takes a second before Prussia's vision clears of the tears that have cluttered it. When it
finally happens, the first thing he sees is his own hands, fingers so tightly wrapped around the
steering wheel that the knuckles are turning blue.
"Verdammter Miststück." he murmurs, before finally starting the car.
- Bist du verrückt?: 'Are you insane?'
- Schifoso figlio di puttana!: 'Filthy son of a bitch'
- Versager: 'Loser!'
- Schlampe: 'Bitch!' Question for German speakers: is this a female-only insult, like 'bitch' in English?
- Testa di cazzo: 'Dickhead'. This is so fun.
- Hure: 'Whore!'
- Maledetto bastardo: 'Damn bastard'.
- Verdammter Miststück: 'Damn bastard'. So now you can say it in German and Italian! Yeeeeeh!
I've passed way too much fucking time on this bitch and now I can't stop swearing like a goddamned sailor, fuck.
Reply
"Romano." Veneziano's voice is sweet, temptative in the dark. "Romano." He feels the mattress
dip under the weight of his brother, the bed shift as he lies next to him.
"Romano, come out from under that pillow. Let me see your face."
Romano complies, because it's really hard to say no to his brother when he has his sweet,
reasonable tone. He tries to glare, but with bloodshot, puffy eyes it's hard.
"For how long have you been crying alone in the dark?"
"I'm not..." Veneziano raises an eyebrow. "Uh... for a while. How did you know..."
"Germany phoned me. Apparently, today he came home from work to a Prussia with a black eye
and
a bleeding lip."
"Ah."
"Look, I don't know what he did, but..."
"He punched me. Here." Romano lifts his t-shirt a bit, to reveal a round bruise that's
already going blue. "Also I think I'm going to have a bump on my head where he shoved me against
the fridge. But then you tell me I gave him a black eye and a cut lip, I say we're even."
Pause.
"He's not... worse, isn't it?"
"Germany says this is a scratch compared to what he's used to."
"Mpf." Romano squeezes his eyes shut. "Guessed as much."
Veneziano chewes quietly on his thumb, waiting for a more elaborated explanation that does
not come. And, since he's not the most patient of people, it's not long before he simply
asks.
"Romano?"
"Hn."
"What happened?"
Romano cracks an eye open. "Spain happened."
Veneziano does a double take. "Right when you were...?"
"Right when we were."
"Uuuh."
"Yeah."
"Butbutbut, why you ended up giving Prussia a black eye?"
Romano closes his eyes again. "He got jealous, I guess. Because I went after Spain. I just
wanted to... Fuck that. And... Prussia didn't believe me when I said that I hadn't seen him in
almost a year. Tch. Serves me right. Should have given up on all this shit the first time
Spain tried to swap me for you."
"Oh, Lovi..."
Veneziano looks at his brother's tired face and dry lips, and would like to cup his cheek
with his hand and tell him everything will be alright, but that wouldn't work with Romano.
"You know," he says instead, at a lenght, "Germany also says Prussia is really, really sad.
He
doesn't want to admit it, but Germany is his brother, he can tell."
"Mmmh. He probably just misses the sex."
Veneziano shakes his head, then rests his head on the pillow too, knowing that they both
usually feel a lot better after a good sleep. Suddenly, he smiles, like the best idea in the
world has just crossed his mind.
"Romano?"
"Let me sleep, Feli!"
"We're still going to Marisa's marriage, right?"
Reply
"And so I tell him, 'If my best friend was fucking my boyfriend behind my back, I'd like to
know', and he fucking smiles and goes all 'Ah well he could say the same thing about you,
tesoro', and things sort of went downhill from there. Anyway, I'm glad I got rid of that
fucking brat." Audible sniffle. "He was starting to get clingy, you know."
When Prussia goes back at chewing on his kebab sandwich with determination, Germany rolls his
eyes with such a strenght, it's a wonder his hair don't ruffle.
"Prussia, you do realize this whole story makes absolutely no sense from an outsider
perspective?" he asks, cutting neatly into his own sandwich.
"Yeah, I mean, what's the matter with him? He has the awesome me right there and he still..."
Another audible sniffle, immediately followed by more munching on the kebab sandwich.
"I wasn't talking about that. Prussia, why did you immediately decide that Romano was
cheating on you?"
Prussia's chewing stops. Restarts. Stops again. He swallows. "He went after him, right? And
they were screaming at each other in their sexy languages, and that looked just like a lover's
quarrell to me, even if Romano says..."
"Sorry to interrupt, but you've told me this story at least fifteen times in the last four
days and I still can't fathom why you didn't simply let Romano explain."
"But he refused to explain! And he was going after Spain!"
"Well, if they hadn't spoken to each other in months, a talk between them was probably long
overdue."
Prussia blinks. "You may have a point." He takes another bite from his sandwich, thoughtful,
then suddenly he realizes something. "Bfufer, I fin'..."
"Gott, swallow before you talk!" Germany complains, picking a crumb of half-chewed
kebab from the table with a paper napkin. "Really, sometimes you're like a child!"
Prussia narrows his eyes, chewing faster and chasing the food with some beer. "At least
I don't eat my sandwiches with fork and knife like an old lady."
"Eating with your hands is messy." Germany frowns.
"You should see a doctor about those compulsions of yours." Prussia takes another big
bite.
Germany sighs. "What were you trying to say?"
"Hhhmmmf, hhmmmmppfff!" His brother gesticulates to him to wait.
"Ja, I'm not going anywhere so calm down."
With the help of some more beer, Prussia can finally speak again. "I think I know why I got
so angry. It's just... It's stupid, but, the way he just had to run after Spain..."
Germany smiles a little. "You got jealous."
"Yeah, I guess so. A little. Shit!" He throws the sandwich on its napkin, a bit of salsa
spurting on the table, making Germany wince. "I must look fucking pathetic, isn't it?"
Germany thinks of Veneziano, happy and oblivious, that greets everybody with a smile and a
kiss. "It's actually quite common."
Reply
It's a rather nice morning of middle march in Italy, perfect for a marriage. The little
church has recently been repainted white, and the big field around has been trimmed, the fresh,
tender grass a bright green. It's still cold however, and Romano shivers a little in his nice
clothes, hoping that Marisa, the bride (an old friend that helps them with documents and other
things to hide their immortality) arrives soon, so they can enter the church.
Today it's exactly a week from his fight with Prussia, and he hasn't heard from him since -
well, to be honest, he didn't call him either. It's not his fault, ok? He's an asshole. Still,
there's a tiny part of Romano (really, really tiny, don't get ideas) that may or may not miss
him, remember how what had started almost as a joke, a pastime, was slowly becoming... what?
Well... They fit. Behind all the bantering, the insulting, and the refusal to admit they may
be feeling something for each other, they fit. Then, Romano shakes his head - he should stop
letting that tiny part of him (that he has come to call 'Veneziano') do the thinking.
Still, when the true Veneziano puts an hand on his shoulder and says "Look, there's somebody
for you", tilting his chin towards the chain-link fence that closes the church property, his
head whips up and his eyes search frantically for a slender figure with platinum blonde
hair.
But it's not him. "What is he doing here!" Romano hisses, narrowing his eyes.
"I told him to come."
"Veneziano!"
"Look, you two need to talk. If you don't, no matter how many boyfriends you change, next
time you see him you'll be back to square one, Romano. And I told him to come here today, so
you can't make a scene." Veneziano smiles his sweetest smile.
The older brother gives him his own sarcastic smirk in return. "God, I fucking hate you when
you're sneaky."
Veneziano beams.
Romano marches with purpose to the spot where Spain is waiting for him, on the other side
of the chain-link fence, fingers interlaced with its rings.
Reply
"Hola."
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Romano whispers, huffing like an angry cat.
"I want to talk."
"About how you disappear for years and then reappear out of nowhere to make a scene?"
Antonio frowns. "You didn't call either."
"I was angry at you."
"You had no reason to."
"Oh, didn't I now? You were the one who told me we probably shouldn't see each other for a
while, and I was the one who told you it was bullshit. And you still have to explain to me where
all that crap about you feeling guilty came from."
"But I do feel guilty about you, Lovi. You were like a son to me, and I used your love
to..."
"You did nothing of the sorts. Stop treating me like a fucking child, Spain."
"I did use you, thought. And mistreat you too. Not physically, but still... I
manipulated you."
"It's all in the past."
"Doesn't mean that you should simply forgive me and take me back in your life as a lover.
It's not right."
"Let me decide what's right for me and what's not!"
"It's not right for me either, isn't it?" A sad smile. "And be honest Lovino, even if I were
to overcome my own guilt and come back to you, would you still want me?"
Romano blinks, then frowns, biting his lip and avoiding Spain's eyes.
"Thought so." Then Spain's smile becomes his usual, beaming one, and Romano remembers what
made him fall for the man in the first place - his incredible ability to turn all the bad things
that life throws at him into reasons to be happy.
"You know, I've been thinking about you and me, and I realized I wasn't that good at being
your boss. Never been able to smack you around like you deserved sometimes, because I was so
scared you'd hate me. Maybe I'll make for a better big brother!"
"Spain. Oh, Antonio." Romano tangles his fingers with Spain's around the rings, rests his
forehead on the fence. Happy noises start coming from the church.
"I think the bride is here." Spain surprises him with a quick peck on the forehead.
"Vaya con Dios, hermanito."
- Vaya con Dios, hermanito: along the lines of 'May God be with you, little brother'. It's a really old-fashioned way of saying good-bye.
Reply
Prussia is still half-asleep on his bed, even if it's rather late for his Prussian standards.
He got really drunk the night before, and he may or may not have end up bawling on his brother's
shoulder about Romano not calling him. To be completely honest, Germany had to physically
restrain him from calling his cell phone, and only because drunken phone calls in the middle of
the night never lead to anything good, Germany insisted.
When sober however, he still refuses to call him - he's the one who owes him an explanation,
goddamit. Prussia is man enough to admit he does miss him, his warm skin, his kisses, and maybe
also the way he half-smiles when he comments on his prettiness and his grumbling in the morning
before his infusion of absurdly strong Italian coffee. But he won't become Romano's punching
ball the way Spain...
His cell phone rings, and Prussia retrieves it after some fumbling, and checks the name on
the screen. Uh. Speak of the devil...
"Spain. What can you possibly..."
"It has been years since the last time we had sex."
Prussia blinks. "What."
"You have heard me."
Prussia's eyes narrow, despite the fact that the other man can't see him. "That's not what he
told me."
"Of course it isn't, because he is a stubborn child and so are you. But trust me. He isn't in
love with me. He hasn't been for a while, maybe he never was."
Spain's tone is sad, and Prussia feels a pang of guilt at the happiness that fills his
heart. Well, on the other hand, Schadenfreude is a German concept.
"I, uh, don't know how to react to this."
He can hear Spain's eyeroll. "Look. I'm not an idiot, no matter how much I can look
like one sometimes. This is my way to make up for putting him through a lot of bad things when
he was younger, ok? I'm trying to be a good big brother, and I quite like you. I've known you
for years and I've always thought you're nice, in your own absolutely infuriating way. So
please, please, take your hint and go make up with him, he was too sad today."
"Today? You saw him?"
"We needed to talk. But I could tell it wasn't for me that he was miserable."
"Spain, I..."
"Oy, and another thing." Spain's voice suddenly slips into a tone that Prussia hasn't heard
in years, apparently cheerful but with something really different underneath. "Do you remember
my battle axe?"
Prussia swallows audibly. Yes, he remembers Spain's battle axe.
"It's in my lap right now. I wanted to see if was still able to cut a tree trunk in half with
just one blow, and what do you know? I am!"
"Look, I got it, ok? Next time I'm going to try talking before jumping at his throath."
"Smart boy, I knew there was a reason I like you. Well." His tone returns normal. "Good luck
to you, then!"
Prussia mutters a 'thank you' and closes the phone. He definitely needs some luck, he thinks,
while dressing quickly and trying to remember where he put the car keys.
Reply
The first thing that Romano notices while coming home from the marriage is a little Trabant
parked right in front of his house, and he almost hits a street lamp with his own Fiat. He parks
carefully, throws his jacket over one shoulder (the day has warmed, and anyway he has been
eating for the past four hours) and walks over to the low gate to his little garden, trying hard
not to shake. Prussia is sitting on his front door's steps, but he stands quickly when he sees
him. Romano opens the small gate and enters, and then stills on the path halfway to the door,
raising his eyes to meet Prussia's.
"Hi."
"Hi."
"I thought... I was beginning to think that you had... gone to your brother's and... you told
me that you do that sometimes when you're upset. Or that... actually I was sure you had seen me
from the window and you simply weren't opening because you hated me now."
Romano almost laughs. "So you decided to sit on my front door until I ran out of supplies."
Prussia's grin has a soft edge, and it does weird things to Romano's stomach. "Classic siege
strategy."
"You remember I've got a backdoor."
"Sure I do." It takes a second and a positively leering Prussia before Romano gets it.
"Oh, fuck you idiot." Romano walks to his front door, keys in hand, and as soon as he's close
enough Prussia grabs his waist, pushes him close and kisses him.
It's exactly this that he missed the most, Romano thinks. Not the kiss in itself, but
Prussia, the way he has to make him recognize the obvious by doing the unexpected. He answers
the kiss, and his jacket falls to the ground when he puts his arms around his neck. He's lifted
a bit from the ground (he can feel Prussia's muscles shift against him, under the clothes) and
pressed softly to his front door.
When they part, they're both panting.
"Where have you been?"
"A marriage."
"Not your own, I hope."
"I was more in the mood for a funeral."
They kiss again, and one of Romano's legs goes between Prussia's, to push against his rapidly
hardening cock - it takes some effort to separate, but they do, and the blonde presses their
foreheads together and steps back a little, so there is some space between their bodies.
"Hnm. I know, we still need to talk."
Prussia nods.
"Let's try and not fight
again, because I passed the whole Mass thinking of the way your eyes roll in the back of your
head when I do that thing with my mouth, and I definitely want to see that again."
Prussia swallows and nods again.
This time Romano is actually allowed to pull out his keys and open the door, while Prussia
gathers the jacket and follows. They both sit on the couch, nervous now that they have to leave
the language they're most used to and explain what's going on in their respective heads with
actual words.
Reply
"Uh... Spain called me. After he talked with you, I guess. He said... Ok, let's go straight
to the point. Why the fuck did you lie to me? About sex with him, I mean."
"How did I lie?"
"He said it was years since your last time together."
"I never said otherwise."
"You said that he dropped by and then you had sex, and you said it didn't happen since we
started dating... ok, so you didn't lie. But you have to admit, 'I haven't seen him in years'
has another ring to it."
Romano clears his throath, and starts looking at the floor's tiling with sudden interest.
"It's... complicated. And you have to admit you kind of overreacted there."
"Yeah, well, I was jealous, okay? And... nothing."
"What."
"I said nothing!"
There's another long, embarrassing silence, until Lovino starts to chuckle. "Dio, we
suck at this."
Prussia answers with a grin of his own. "We really both fail at this couple thing, isn't
it?"
"Looks like that. But hey, great sex."
"Yeah, we're good at it. Speaking of which," Prussia quickly pushes Romano on the couch,
pinning him. "are we done talking?"
"I don't know, I think we aren't but I'm also afraid to grow a vagina."
"Now that's an interesting image. By the way," and Prussia can't help but grin "I saw
Hungary."
Romano narrows his eyes. "Oh, did you now? Has she gotten fat?"
"Nah, pretty as usual. And kind, for once, too."
"Oh, really."
"Yes. She offered me cake and didn't clobber me in the head with the damn frying pan, unlike
a certain someone I could name."
"Ah, cake. I bet that boring-ass husband of hers made it."
"And you know why she was so kind?"
"Even your company is better than Austria's? Drugs?"
"Because I passed the whole two hours of visit pathetically whining about how much I
regretted fighting with you, and how pretty you are, and what a great cook, and how great the
sex is..."
Lovino's narrowed eyes go wide, then narrow again, and his hands escape Prussia's to grab a
pillow and start hitting the blonde with it.
"You asshole! You know how jealous I am!"
"Yes, I know... Ouff!" There's some confused fighting and they both end up on the floor, with
Romano on top, straddling Prussia's lap. They stop, panting, and Prussia's cheeks are aflame,
his eyes filled with childish glee, mischievous grin back at full force: finally Romano
understands what possessed Spain every time that he felt compelled to scream 'sooo cuuute' at
the top of his lungs. Not that he's going to actually do that, mind you.
"What's that smile?"
He bends to whisper in Prussia's ear. "Don't think I haven't noticed the way you changed
topic. You were going to tell me something."
"I don't know what you're tal- Ah!" Romano is nibbling at his ear, one hand sliding under his
t-shirt. Prussia does the same under Romano's dress shirt, and the sensation of warm skin under
his fingertips gives him a sort of weird chill, similar to the one he gets when he's drunk.
He sighs. "Ok. I was going to tell you something, but..." He shakes his head.
Reply
"Look. Let's make a deal." Romano rises, sitting up on his lap, and starts gesticulating,
like he always does when he wants a particularly difficult concept to pass across Prussia's
thick (but hot-looking) skull. Prussia, in no particular rush, puts his arms behind his head as
a pillow, to watch him more confortably, putting on his 'I'm going to listen to this really
seriously' face that makes Romano want to go all 'Buyoooh!' on him. Hm. He really passed too
much time with Spain.
"You know how my brother is always going around like an oblivous idiot singing 'Veh veh I
love Germany veh' and your brother is all 'oh no I don't love Veneziano but I'm going to behave
like a complete dork around him for no particular reason'?"
"You've got West down pat."
"I'm a good actor. And you know how Spain is always telling me I should be more like
Veneziano and Hungary and Austria invite West to family dinners but not you?"
"The awesome me doesn't need invitations. And they always bake more cake that they can eat
anyway. And anytime you call Germany 'West' I realize you're my twin soul."
"Yes yes I know. Anyway. You know we both are, like, ten times better than our little
brothers, we have a lot more fun, and the sex is better..."
"Also we look hotter in pictures. The point?"
"Ok. Let's say - purely for the sake of speculation - that hypotethically, in this particular
aspect of life and in this aspect only, I mean, the whole 'being a couple' thing, they
may have gotten some things slightly more right than us."
Prussia raises an eyebrow. "You aren't suggesting that I start to wear my hair slicked
back."
"You'll look better than him in my opinion, but no. We should try to... say what we think
without fear of the consequences, because, you know, if we don't start being sincere we'll
always have this sort of problems."
The blonde goes a bit rigid under him. "I see."
Romano sighs. "So, here's the deal. I start to say something really embarrassing about, uh...
you, and then you say something like that about me. And we go on until, ah, we grow tired, I
guess. It's just the two of us here, no one can hear us, and we can pretend this never happened,
unless one day we decide to do this again. So we get all the advantages of being sappy idiots
without being sappy idiots. And during this time we promise we won't make comments on
what the other has to say, like, no jokes, no leg pulling, not calling each other women. So...
Uhmm... what do you think?"
Prussia sighs. "Ok, let's give this a try." Then, a grin. "You start!"
"You asshole. Any requests?"
"What happened with Spain. For real this time."
Reply
"Pff, ok." Romano takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes in concentration - he looks
gorgeous, and maybe Prussia can tell him this when his turn comes. "Years ago, we were going
steady, and I was head over heels for him. Seriously, I was completely
convinced there was nobody else in the world for me. Then, one day, he gave me this long,
contorted speech about penance for his old sins, which basically meant that he felt guilty for
taking my innocence," he snorts "and well... he may have sort of a point... but this is all
really complicated and doesn't regard you anyway.
"So, this whole thing becomes the classical 'let's not see each other for a while', after which
he disappears. Just like that. Except reunions in which we were forced to see each other, like
family dinners and the EU and such. I ignored him, but... I wasn't able to let go. For fucking
years. Even the day you came here, you know, our first time... I was waiting for him to
just waltz in the door with his big dumb smile and ask me to forgive him, and I would have done
it. Oh, I would have whined, and yelled, and hit him, and called him a fucking bastard and
everything, but in the end I would have forgiven him.
"And then you came and everything changed. I knew I had to clarify with him one day, to
avoid... well, exactly what happened, and... But I kept on putting it off because I... I was
scared as shit, actually. You know... I was sort of kind of happy, with you, maybe, and I was
scared that if he asked me back I... but then he appeared, and you know what how I felt?
"Outraged. Not even at him, well, at him too, but mostly at myself for waiting for something
so stupid for so long. That's why I ran after him, that's what I wanted to say. But then you
stopped me and started asking question, and well, I've never been good at holding my rage... and
I was so ashamed. I mean, you seem to like me, what were you going to think of me if I told you
the whole pathetic story? And the more you forced out of me the more angry I got, because you
weren't suppose to know this side of me. Oh, God, I'm such a fucking loser. I
screwed this up for everybody."
There's a short silence, and Romano screwes his eyes shut, holds his breath.
Then, Romano feels Prussia pulling up from his position and pressing his lips on his,
lightly. He opens his eyes, surprised,
but it's the other now that has his eyes closed - and he's got long streaks of wet from his eyes
to his chin. The thought of Prussia crying is so surreal that Romano almost
doesn't believe it at first. He cups his face in one hand and kisses him, passionate and
demanding.
Reply
Prussia sniffles, surprised, while the brunette starts raining kisses on his cheeks,
eyelids, chin, even more when he goes back on his lips and he can taste salt, because he hadn't
realized he was crying. He can't remember when it was the last time he cried while sober
actually. No, wait. It was a week ago, when they fought. He closes his eyes. Here goes
nothing.
"I was so jealous. I was so fucking jealous. I was sure, sure you were with me just because
you had no other choice, and the moment a better option came around you'd have dropped me. You
could do better than me, you know? So much better. I mean, Spain, people can point at him on a
map. And no, don't come telling me that it's the same for you because it isn't. You've found
yourself a role in your brother's life. West keeps me around out of fucking good heart, because
I'm us - "
A sudden panic washes over him, because this is just too much, he can't say this. He
opens his eyes, only to see Romano crying too. He makes another surprised noise.
"Ah." Romano says, wiping his cheeks with a sort of sad smile. "It's all your fault. Tears
are contagious."
Prussia grabs him and kisses him, pulling him down on the floor, until they're pressed flush
against each other, breathing trought their noses.
When they finally part, Romano whispers "My turn again?"
Prussia nods.
He can feel Romano taking a deep breath, like he's about to dive underwater. "I'm jealous.
I've been jealous of somebody all my life. Often more than one person. Even now, I'm still
jealous of my brother. But it's the first time that I feel I can do something about it.
Something to stop the person I..." exhale, inhale "love from leaving."
"Why should your brother leav-augh!" Romano has bitten him on the neck - not a playful
nibble, an harsh, marking bite, probably even drawing blood, and Prussia's eyes are full of
tears - he's about to shove him off and ask him if he has gone insane, but obviously the pain
helps him focus because he finally understands.
"Oh. Uh. Yeah. That's..." Deep breath. Remember facing Russia, or Poland, or France, or hell,
he has been at war with everybody at one point or the other, often kicking their ass, this
little Mediterranean half-nation can't scare him more, can he?
"I-That's actually the reason I keep bringing up Hungary. I love it when you're jealous.
Makes me feel wanted, and... ahhh..." Romano is tending to the bite mark, lapping at it
tenderly, and Prussia feels like he's melting into the floor. But no! He is going to finish a at
least this fucking sentence, because if Romano can be all sappy and romantic and open about his
feelings then so can he. Fuck, he's probably better at it now that he thinks of it, what
with his Romanticism and shit (and nevermind that it was more West's doing).
"Makes me feel wanted. It's been years since the last time I felt like that. Sometimes..."
Oh, God, he's actually doing this, isn't it? "Sometimes I hate you. For what you do to me
without even trying, making me think of things I've forgotten. You know, how does it feel to be
- real. Strong. Worthy. It sucks. Because I know I don't deserve it, and I know that one day -
oh, you're so fucking perfect and too much for me, and you're going to leave one day, and the
thought drives me insane because I love you. Here. Said it."
Reply
Romano is looking at him, eyes at half mast, expression unreadable. "Where did you got the
idea that you aren't worthy of my so precious love? I mean, you look... You are..." He swallows.
"You work for me. Everything, from the color of your hair and eyes, your laughter, the
taste of your skin... Fuck." He closes his eyes and swallows again, his Adam's apple bobbing up
and down. "Ich liebe dich."
Prussia blinks. Blinks again. This probably deserves a third blinking actually. "Romano, did
you just speak in German?"
"Hnm."
"As in, the language that's spoken in Germany?"
"Yeah, well, I probably got that raspy sound all wrong."
"But you hate everything German!"
"Well right now yes, I do, because there's this part of Germany that is being completely
idiotic over something that is dumb as hell and he's really overblowing it as a
sort of grand romantic gesture - "
He's cut short when Prussia kisses him, ravishing, mashing their mouths and teeth almost
painfully, making him moan almost immediately.
Then Prussia lets his head fall back to the floor, leaving a breathless Romano to stare at
his lazy grin with a surprised look.
"You got that raspy sound all wrong, yeah, but fuck if your Italian accent in my language
isn't the sexiest thing I've ever heard. People look at you and see this asshole that bullies
his little brother and mistreats Spain, and then you go and do this for me. I mean, you are
gorgeous, and there's this side of you that only a few elected are allowed to see, and the
simple fact that I'm in this club is a miracle - that's why I'm so jealous of Spain, because he
was the one who got to see my Romano first, and it pisses me off. But who the fuck cares,
right? You're mine now. How was it again? Ah, yes: Ti amo."
"Ah, you, you... You bastard!"
"I seriously need to teach you to say that in German, I'll have an erection anytime you
insult me. Not that I don't anyway, right."
Romano is blushing furiosly, and still stuttering protests. Prussia lets out a roaring
laughter.
"Come on, repeat after me: 'Du bist ein bastard'."
Romano decides to kiss him instead.
I don't know if 'fluffy' really applies to my ending, but they did make up. Let's
decide this is their very own brand of fluff, okay?
First time writing Germany, I hope he's not OOC. I've got such a crush on him.
Also I'm afraid I've depicted poor Spain as the biggest asshole in the world. I'm sorry Tony,
but I like my couples to fight for a reason, and jealousy is always the most simple and
elegant.
Ah, and lest I forget:
- Ich liebe dich.: 'I love you'.
- Ti amo: 'I love you'.
- 'Du bist ein bastard'.: 'You're a bastard'.
But I bet you knew that already by now, right?
Reply
That was lovely anon, thanks for sharing
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment