Hetalia Fic: Bottom of the Block
Title: Bottom of the Block
Fandom: Hetalia
Character(s): Romano/Spain
Pairing(s): pre-Spain/Romano
Word Count: 411
Genre: general
Rating: PG-13/T
Notes: ...usually, I'm very wary of posting first bits of a series I'm writing because I never finish series, BUT these can totally stand alone. XD After Italy finishes bottom of their block, Romano goes to drown his sorrows. Unfortunately, Spain doesn't let him wallow for long.
Link: N/A
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"Romano-"
"Ah, go away, bastard," Romano muttered into his drink.
Spain did no such thing as he sidled up next to him at the bar. "It wasn't-"
Romano's head snapped up and glared at him. "Don't even start. My team lost. We were at bottom of our block! Some defending World Champions we were..." he grumbled as he turned back to his wine.
"Romano," Spain murmured, wrapping an arm around the sulking nation's shoulders.
"You're shit at this comforting thing when your team made it out top of your block! You don't even need to go against Brazil first thing now!" Romano complained. "What the hell. Your team was only winning 1-0 for your two wins."
Spain chuckled and gave stupid smile. "Ah, yeah. Think we'll win the World Cup this way?" he questioned dreamily. "It'd be nice. We've never won it before..."
Romano scowled and shoved Spain away, though he didn't have much force behind it. "What's this 'we' business? My team's won four times!"
"Aww, but Romano, since your team got kicked out so early," Spain began as Romano gritted his teeth, "I figured you could just root for my team now! You were my cute little protectorate once, so my team is your team!"
Romano flushed slightly and blamed it on the wine; he had been drinking since yesterday's loss to Slovakia. "That's not how it works, idiot," he muttered as he tapped the bar for a refill on his wine. "I'll just go for any team that's against Germany. Don't want them winning the Cup."
Spain pouted. "Aww, Romano~" he whined. "Don't you want to see Boss win the Cup?"
There was a pause. "If it were a choice between you or Germany, I guess I'd root for you," he muttered before taking another gulp of wine then making a face. "The wine here is shit."
With a chuckle, Spain slid out of his seat, offering a hand to Romano. "I have some wine I brought with me. It's from your house."
Romano slapped away Spain's hand as he hopped off the bar stool, world spinning a bit as he told the barkeep to put the wine on his brother's tab. "Better be the kind I like," he replied as he pretended not to lean on Spain.
Spain beamed as he led Romano out of the bar, pulling him close. "Isn't it always, Roma~?"
Romano grumbled something under his breath, and just maybe it was an agreement.
Fandom: Hetalia
Character(s): Romano/Spain
Pairing(s): pre-Spain/Romano
Word Count: 411
Genre: general
Rating: PG-13/T
Notes: ...usually, I'm very wary of posting first bits of a series I'm writing because I never finish series, BUT these can totally stand alone. XD After Italy finishes bottom of their block, Romano goes to drown his sorrows. Unfortunately, Spain doesn't let him wallow for long.
Link: N/A
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Romano-"
"Ah, go away, bastard," Romano muttered into his drink.
Spain did no such thing as he sidled up next to him at the bar. "It wasn't-"
Romano's head snapped up and glared at him. "Don't even start. My team lost. We were at bottom of our block! Some defending World Champions we were..." he grumbled as he turned back to his wine.
"Romano," Spain murmured, wrapping an arm around the sulking nation's shoulders.
"You're shit at this comforting thing when your team made it out top of your block! You don't even need to go against Brazil first thing now!" Romano complained. "What the hell. Your team was only winning 1-0 for your two wins."
Spain chuckled and gave stupid smile. "Ah, yeah. Think we'll win the World Cup this way?" he questioned dreamily. "It'd be nice. We've never won it before..."
Romano scowled and shoved Spain away, though he didn't have much force behind it. "What's this 'we' business? My team's won four times!"
"Aww, but Romano, since your team got kicked out so early," Spain began as Romano gritted his teeth, "I figured you could just root for my team now! You were my cute little protectorate once, so my team is your team!"
Romano flushed slightly and blamed it on the wine; he had been drinking since yesterday's loss to Slovakia. "That's not how it works, idiot," he muttered as he tapped the bar for a refill on his wine. "I'll just go for any team that's against Germany. Don't want them winning the Cup."
Spain pouted. "Aww, Romano~" he whined. "Don't you want to see Boss win the Cup?"
There was a pause. "If it were a choice between you or Germany, I guess I'd root for you," he muttered before taking another gulp of wine then making a face. "The wine here is shit."
With a chuckle, Spain slid out of his seat, offering a hand to Romano. "I have some wine I brought with me. It's from your house."
Romano slapped away Spain's hand as he hopped off the bar stool, world spinning a bit as he told the barkeep to put the wine on his brother's tab. "Better be the kind I like," he replied as he pretended not to lean on Spain.
Spain beamed as he led Romano out of the bar, pulling him close. "Isn't it always, Roma~?"
Romano grumbled something under his breath, and just maybe it was an agreement.