[fanfic] Of Pictures and Attention
First time posting in this community... aha, I hope I do this right.
Title: Of Pictures and Attention
Rating: PG-13 for Romano's potty-mouth.
Character(s)/Pairings: Spain, South Italy, turtles! SpainxRomano.
Summary: Romano may just be a little jealous of the fact that Spain pays more attention to his new turtles than him.
Warnings: ... Cursing? That's about it, really. Also, unbeta'd... so it may have errors.
It's all too quiet in that big, cheerful house and usually by this time, the brown-haired nation has already heard a cry of "ROMANO!!!" and heshould be in that idiot's arms by now, but he's nowhere to be found. And he's not worried -pffft, of course not! Why would he worry about that jerk?- but he's very, very curious, and thus he wanders deeper into the house, making sure to lock the door behind him -why does Spain leave it unlocked? That shit is dangerous!-.
Slowly he begins to glance around, seeing that this house... it hasn't changed at all. Portraits still adorn the walls, portraits of past kings and Antonio in past formal wear that would often strike fear into the hearts of his opponents, portraits of himself in younger clothing that made him look a little bit too feminine and that, he decides, it the reason he hated wearing those maiden outfits when he was still small and growing up in this Spanish household.
He notices that although things have stayed the same, there are also minor differences. There's not as many pictures of the older Italian brother as there once was. Romano is sure he's partially to blame for that- he's seen too many pictures in this household that he just absolutely did not like and so calmly told the Spaniard to burn at once. And so now, the picture of Romano uncharacteristically smiling while he's in the Spaniard's arms isn't on the main table. The picture of the two Italian brothers kneeling in a field, one looking at the camera with eyes wide and filled with sun and delight, the other with an utmost look of surprise on his face; that's gone too, burned, just like the other pictures he'd picked out.
And just for a second- for a mere, half second, Romano frowns upon this fact. Because where those pictures were, there are pictures of another set of things. Some things that aren't him.
Turtles.
Fucking turtles.
"OI! Bastard!!" he yells into the house, and the frown deepens when he hears no reply. "What's the deal with the pictures, eh?! Get your ass out here!!"
Still, there's nothing. Romano growls something in his native tongue and he runs a hand through his hair, pausing for a moment and feeling his breath hitch as his fingers clumsily swoop over a single strand of hair. Damn curl. It was always getting in his way, and that Spaniard bastard would always tug it... and why was he turning red at the thought, damn it!!
"Antonio, where in the world..." the Italian snarled as he stalked through the house, checking the kitchen, the bedroom, the bathroom, the guest room- damn it, anywhere he thought the Spaniard could be. He needed to have a serious talk with him about putting pictures of turtleson his coffee table.
After searching the house thoroughly, the most logical next step was to go out to the backyard, which he so promptly did, huffing once he went outside and saw Antonio lying on the grass, hands neatly propping his chin up and legs idly kicking behind him. He seemed to be staring at a few moving figures on the grass, and wasn't noticing his visitor yet.
WHAT.
Antonio would always notice him the second he entered a room! And why not now? This was unacceptable.
So Romano trudged forward with a look of utter disgust on his face and he made sure to oh-so-nicely dive forward and headbutt the nation. Hard. "BASTARD, why are you out here!!"
Naturally, Antonio's reaction to this headbutt was a loud 'Oof!' and him rolling a few feet to the side. Shortly after that happened, he swiped at his own cheek, flicking a little piece of grass away and he smiled up towards his guest. "Pues, buenos dias, Romano. I didn't know you were going to stop for a visit. Oh and be careful with where you step! You might stomp on Javier or Miguel."
"Damn it, I did NOT come for a visit- ...what?" Romano had to stop himself from going on a full rant as he heard those names slip out of the other's lips. Javier? MIGUEL? ".. Did you name the God-forsaken turtles!?!" he screeched, and he couldn't understand how Antonio just sat there and smiled at him and nodded.
"And then, you take PICTURES of the turtles, and they replace the ones of me on the table?!" he was seething, and he could practically feelthe emotion of rage bubbling up inside him, coming up almost to a boiling point when the Spaniard only laughed and cooed, "Hey~ you look just like a tomato."
"FINE! Have fun with your stupid turtles!" Romano almost had half a mind to kick one on his way out, but that would really just be uncalled for. So he stomped himself out of there, fuming as he heard the other brunette nation call out, "What'd I do? Romano, stay with us for a little while!". Like hell he was staying with him for a little while. He was going home, damn it, and he was not coming back for a while, because he decided that he was mad at the other male, so he wouldn't go anywhere near his house for a very, very long time.
--
That long time being about an hour later, when he realized that his younger brother had gotten home and just accidently failed to mention that he was bringing his German comrade over and they were going to do unforgivable things on his couch.
So he was back at his former mentor's door, waiting for the door to be opened, having knocked only about seventeen times already!!
And on the eighteenth knock the Spaniard opened the door. Romano was kind enough to mumble "I'll stay for a little while, dammit." but he realized the other hadn't listened, since the second he'd opened the door, he'd run back into the house and yelled something about not going near the plants.
Romano stood at the door for a while, then glared. Oh. Fuck no. He was still playing with the turtles, wasn't he.
At this realization he slammed the door shut behind him, ran behind the Spaniard, out towards the backyard, and saw him patting one of the turtles towards a little pool, where a few other turtles swam along happily. He seethed. Oh how he seethed. The bastard was paying more attention to turtles than a guest!
"Are you STUPID or something?!" Romano cried out as he plopped himself down by the Spaniard and just glared at the turtles. He was considering the option of taking those turtles home and making himself some soup. Some nice, hot, delicious turtle soup. "Focus on me for a second, damn it, not the amphibian things!!"
"Oh, Romano," laughed the tanned man beside him and soon, he felt lips upon his cheek, which made him sputter and curse and turn to just about a billion shades of red. "They're reptiles., not amphibians."
"It doesn't matter!!" Romano screamed as he shoved the other away, eye twitching. How dare he just randomly kiss him like that- how DARE he! "They're stupid turtles!! You don't need to give them names and take pictures of them and put them on the table so you can see how ugly they are every day!"
It was quiet after that until the Italian heard a snicker. "Roma~ are you jealous?" came the other's voice, smooth and warm like the sun that always reigned over his country.
Naturally, it just made the other grumble and curse some more. "NO, you fuckhead! Why would I be jealous of a turtle and its pictures and how it gets your attention and-"
The lips missed his cheek this time, he noticed. He wasn't sure if they were supposed to land on his own lips, but they did, and his eyes widened and he couldn't move for a second, because he didn't want to move, because he was finally getting some attention, damn it.
"You talk too much," the lips above his own soon grinned, and Romano felt himself shudder a bit and possibly get much redder than before. How this dunce was able to make him stop talking with that and suddenly make him begin to wobble like goo was beyond him. "¿Sabes que?The turtles have pictures on the main coffee table, because your pictures are in my room. They're the first thing I see when I wake up in the morning, Romano."
Thank God, the Italian thought to himself, that the idiot's not dumb enough to mention just how much he must look like a fucking tomato right about now.
And then it hit him.
Romano suddenly yelled. "You never got rid of those pictures?! Bastard, I specifically told you to burn them!!" and now he was pushing the other back onto the ground and beating his fists into his chest, much like a stubborn child. He was mildly -mildly!- surprised when Antonio just laughed and pulled him close, hugging him affectionately. No other words left the two, and Romano decided after a while that if he just relaxed, he might have enough energy to beat him up later, so he rested upon the other and watched the turtles swim with him, smirking all the while.
Let's see them get this close to the bastard. Yeah, that's what I thought. Stupid turtles.
Title: Of Pictures and Attention
Rating: PG-13 for Romano's potty-mouth.
Character(s)/Pairings: Spain, South Italy, turtles! SpainxRomano.
Summary: Romano may just be a little jealous of the fact that Spain pays more attention to his new turtles than him.
Warnings: ... Cursing? That's about it, really. Also, unbeta'd... so it may have errors.
It's all too quiet in that big, cheerful house and usually by this time, the brown-haired nation has already heard a cry of "ROMANO!!!" and heshould be in that idiot's arms by now, but he's nowhere to be found. And he's not worried -pffft, of course not! Why would he worry about that jerk?- but he's very, very curious, and thus he wanders deeper into the house, making sure to lock the door behind him -why does Spain leave it unlocked? That shit is dangerous!-.
Slowly he begins to glance around, seeing that this house... it hasn't changed at all. Portraits still adorn the walls, portraits of past kings and Antonio in past formal wear that would often strike fear into the hearts of his opponents, portraits of himself in younger clothing that made him look a little bit too feminine and that, he decides, it the reason he hated wearing those maiden outfits when he was still small and growing up in this Spanish household.
He notices that although things have stayed the same, there are also minor differences. There's not as many pictures of the older Italian brother as there once was. Romano is sure he's partially to blame for that- he's seen too many pictures in this household that he just absolutely did not like and so calmly told the Spaniard to burn at once. And so now, the picture of Romano uncharacteristically smiling while he's in the Spaniard's arms isn't on the main table. The picture of the two Italian brothers kneeling in a field, one looking at the camera with eyes wide and filled with sun and delight, the other with an utmost look of surprise on his face; that's gone too, burned, just like the other pictures he'd picked out.
And just for a second- for a mere, half second, Romano frowns upon this fact. Because where those pictures were, there are pictures of another set of things. Some things that aren't him.
Turtles.
Fucking turtles.
"OI! Bastard!!" he yells into the house, and the frown deepens when he hears no reply. "What's the deal with the pictures, eh?! Get your ass out here!!"
Still, there's nothing. Romano growls something in his native tongue and he runs a hand through his hair, pausing for a moment and feeling his breath hitch as his fingers clumsily swoop over a single strand of hair. Damn curl. It was always getting in his way, and that Spaniard bastard would always tug it... and why was he turning red at the thought, damn it!!
"Antonio, where in the world..." the Italian snarled as he stalked through the house, checking the kitchen, the bedroom, the bathroom, the guest room- damn it, anywhere he thought the Spaniard could be. He needed to have a serious talk with him about putting pictures of turtleson his coffee table.
After searching the house thoroughly, the most logical next step was to go out to the backyard, which he so promptly did, huffing once he went outside and saw Antonio lying on the grass, hands neatly propping his chin up and legs idly kicking behind him. He seemed to be staring at a few moving figures on the grass, and wasn't noticing his visitor yet.
WHAT.
Antonio would always notice him the second he entered a room! And why not now? This was unacceptable.
So Romano trudged forward with a look of utter disgust on his face and he made sure to oh-so-nicely dive forward and headbutt the nation. Hard. "BASTARD, why are you out here!!"
Naturally, Antonio's reaction to this headbutt was a loud 'Oof!' and him rolling a few feet to the side. Shortly after that happened, he swiped at his own cheek, flicking a little piece of grass away and he smiled up towards his guest. "Pues, buenos dias, Romano. I didn't know you were going to stop for a visit. Oh and be careful with where you step! You might stomp on Javier or Miguel."
"Damn it, I did NOT come for a visit- ...what?" Romano had to stop himself from going on a full rant as he heard those names slip out of the other's lips. Javier? MIGUEL? ".. Did you name the God-forsaken turtles!?!" he screeched, and he couldn't understand how Antonio just sat there and smiled at him and nodded.
"And then, you take PICTURES of the turtles, and they replace the ones of me on the table?!" he was seething, and he could practically feelthe emotion of rage bubbling up inside him, coming up almost to a boiling point when the Spaniard only laughed and cooed, "Hey~ you look just like a tomato."
"FINE! Have fun with your stupid turtles!" Romano almost had half a mind to kick one on his way out, but that would really just be uncalled for. So he stomped himself out of there, fuming as he heard the other brunette nation call out, "What'd I do? Romano, stay with us for a little while!". Like hell he was staying with him for a little while. He was going home, damn it, and he was not coming back for a while, because he decided that he was mad at the other male, so he wouldn't go anywhere near his house for a very, very long time.
--
That long time being about an hour later, when he realized that his younger brother had gotten home and just accidently failed to mention that he was bringing his German comrade over and they were going to do unforgivable things on his couch.
So he was back at his former mentor's door, waiting for the door to be opened, having knocked only about seventeen times already!!
And on the eighteenth knock the Spaniard opened the door. Romano was kind enough to mumble "I'll stay for a little while, dammit." but he realized the other hadn't listened, since the second he'd opened the door, he'd run back into the house and yelled something about not going near the plants.
Romano stood at the door for a while, then glared. Oh. Fuck no. He was still playing with the turtles, wasn't he.
At this realization he slammed the door shut behind him, ran behind the Spaniard, out towards the backyard, and saw him patting one of the turtles towards a little pool, where a few other turtles swam along happily. He seethed. Oh how he seethed. The bastard was paying more attention to turtles than a guest!
"Are you STUPID or something?!" Romano cried out as he plopped himself down by the Spaniard and just glared at the turtles. He was considering the option of taking those turtles home and making himself some soup. Some nice, hot, delicious turtle soup. "Focus on me for a second, damn it, not the amphibian things!!"
"Oh, Romano," laughed the tanned man beside him and soon, he felt lips upon his cheek, which made him sputter and curse and turn to just about a billion shades of red. "They're reptiles., not amphibians."
"It doesn't matter!!" Romano screamed as he shoved the other away, eye twitching. How dare he just randomly kiss him like that- how DARE he! "They're stupid turtles!! You don't need to give them names and take pictures of them and put them on the table so you can see how ugly they are every day!"
It was quiet after that until the Italian heard a snicker. "Roma~ are you jealous?" came the other's voice, smooth and warm like the sun that always reigned over his country.
Naturally, it just made the other grumble and curse some more. "NO, you fuckhead! Why would I be jealous of a turtle and its pictures and how it gets your attention and-"
The lips missed his cheek this time, he noticed. He wasn't sure if they were supposed to land on his own lips, but they did, and his eyes widened and he couldn't move for a second, because he didn't want to move, because he was finally getting some attention, damn it.
"You talk too much," the lips above his own soon grinned, and Romano felt himself shudder a bit and possibly get much redder than before. How this dunce was able to make him stop talking with that and suddenly make him begin to wobble like goo was beyond him. "¿Sabes que?The turtles have pictures on the main coffee table, because your pictures are in my room. They're the first thing I see when I wake up in the morning, Romano."
Thank God, the Italian thought to himself, that the idiot's not dumb enough to mention just how much he must look like a fucking tomato right about now.
And then it hit him.
Romano suddenly yelled. "You never got rid of those pictures?! Bastard, I specifically told you to burn them!!" and now he was pushing the other back onto the ground and beating his fists into his chest, much like a stubborn child. He was mildly -mildly!- surprised when Antonio just laughed and pulled him close, hugging him affectionately. No other words left the two, and Romano decided after a while that if he just relaxed, he might have enough energy to beat him up later, so he rested upon the other and watched the turtles swim with him, smirking all the while.
Let's see them get this close to the bastard. Yeah, that's what I thought. Stupid turtles.