Hetalia Fanfic: Napoli-Lazio 04/03/11
Title: Napoli-Lazio 04/03/11
Fandom: Hetalia
Character(s): Spain, Romano, mentions of the Napoli Football Club & slight Italy cameo
Pairing(s): Spain/Romano
Word Count: 1598
Genre: general/humor
Rating: PG-13/T
Notes: Whaddya mean this is more self-indulgent fic? XD There was an awesome soccer game on Sunday morning (Sunday afternoon in Italy), and I was lucky to see the second half. It was spectacular! *swoon* So, yeah. Since Napoli is Romano's team, canonically, I decided to have him see the match with Spain. XD
Link: kissing meme
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Spain had a feeling Italians were very different at a soccer game than anywhere else at any other time. The cowardice that was usually associated with them banished completely, and what was left was truly frightening. Well, to a foreigner or if you weren't rooting for the team whose section you were sitting in, Italians had become a force to be reckon with, and for some reason, many of them seemed to have fireworks...
“Lovi, why didn't you bring Feli instead of me?” he questioned cautiously, backtracking at the look Romano shot him. “Not that I don't love spending time with my Lovino, but wouldn't Feli know more about 'Serie A' than me?”
Romano scowled, and Spain breathed a sigh of relief when he caught on that the scowl wasn't meant for him. “Him? That bastard wants Lazio to win to help out his team in the points! He's no brother of mine! Traitor!”
Following Romano's eyes, Spain thought he could see Italy on the other side of the field, sitting with the Lazio fans. “Ahh,” he replied. “His team is A.C. Milano, si?”
“Sì,” Romano muttered. “Now, shut up. It's time for my anthem.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Halftime came and went, and the players were walking back onto the field. Spain thought maybe his eardrums were bleeding with all the angry cursing Italians surrounding him when the first ended with Lazio having 1-0 lead over Napoli, and no one was cursing more loudly than Romano Italy.
“Che schifo,” Romano muttered, having calmed his cursing down when he saw his team return. “Better do better this half...”
Spain put on a cheerful smile. “I'm sure they will, Lovi!” he exclaimed, putting a comforting hand on Romano's shoulder. “There's a Spaniard on the team. They should put him in!”
Romano's eyes narrowed as he pinched Spain's hand, hard; Spain yelped and rubbed his hand with a pout. “Just shut up. The line up is just fucking fine!”
But twelve minutes later, Romano's point of view on the subject changed dramatically. “Another fucking goal!? Che cazzo fai, Napoli!?” he shouted angrily, leaning over the barricade between the fans and the field.
Spain winced, wary of trying to hold Romano back. “Ah, look! Napoli's making a substitution!” he pointed out, trying to hear the names. “Mascara for Pazienza? Isn't that putting in make-up for patience...?”
“Better do something useful, Mascara!” Romano shouted, completely ignoring Spain's attempt on wordplay.
A few minutes later, Napoli sunk its first goal of the game; if Spain thought the crowd roaring in anger earlier was loud, he had been sorely mistaken. Though, Romano's look of maniacal glee was worth the imminent loss of his eardrums. Once the cheers had died down, they only started up again when Cavani headed the ball with an assist from Maggio.
“Tied! TAKE THAT, STUPID LAZIO!” Romano shouted, waving evilly at his brother across the field.
Wait, did little Ita just flip off his brother? No, Spain was going to pretend his eye sight was terrible, and he begun seeing things. There was no way Northern Italy could do that.
“Isn't Lazio also one of your teams, Lovi?” Spain mused.
Romano ignored the stupid question, wrapped back up in the game. The game was going pretty smoothly, to Spain anyway, until the ball came back to Napoli's side, where their goal was.
Another goal was made, and Lazio was ahead again. “NO!” Romano screamed, and Spain had to keep the angry Italian from jumping the barricade to strangle one of his defenders. “An own goal!? Which one was it!? Aronica? T'ammazzo!”
“Ahhh, Lovi! You shouldn't kill any of your players!” Spain shouted, holding Romano back, trying to find something to distract Romano with. “Look, Lovi! One of the Lazio players got a yellow card!”
That calmed Romano, if only slightly. It still took a good ten or so minutes for Romano to calm down enough to get back into the game. Then, at the eightieth minute...
“That's a fucking red card and penalty kick!” Romano shouted, pointing at Cavani who was downed in the box. “Cartellino rosso! Do it! Do- YES! Penalty kick! Hahahaha! Cavani, better not fuck this up!”
The whole stadium fell silent for the first time since the game began, and Spain held his breath; he knew he wouldn't want to be next to Romano if this Cavani fellow missed the penalty kick... The ball sunk into the goal, and the cheers and shouts began again, maybe louder this time.
“Tied up! Just one more goal!” Romano announced, face flushed red from the screaming.
Spain smiled. “I am sure your team can do it! Lazio is down a player now, after all.”
Romano scowled for a moment at Spain then punched him in the arm before turning back to the game. “My damn team doesn't need a fucking handicap to win, tomato-bastard,” he stated.
About five minutes later, one of the Napoli players got his first yellow card, but when Spain prepared for an angry outburst, Romano waved him off. “Not important. It doesn't even make him miss the next game, so it's fine,” he replied then pushed Spain. “Stop being stupid and enjoy the game!”
Then a minute later, Mascara headed the ball into the box, and Cavani headbutted the ball into the goal. “YES!” Romano exclaimed elatedly. “Hat trick! I'd fucking kiss you, Cavani!”
But it seemed that the rest of the Napoli team was doing that already, in a way. Cavani ended up in a pile up by the fan barricades, with not only the players that were playing but also the rest of the team and the team staff. They were so close to the barricades that some ballsy fans were even trying to climb over, just to join in the pile on themselves.
Spain, on the other hand, scarcely noticed this. As the Napoli fans shifted towards Cavani and the rest of the team, Romano had fallen into his arms, kissing him soundly. For a moment, Spain was so surprised, he didn't even kiss back, but with Romano kissing him so passionately and nearly vibrating with the excitement and adrenaline from the game and his people around him, Spain kissed back, wrapping his arms around Romano's waist to keep the Italian close. He didn't want this kiss to end because the pull of the crowd had carried Romano away.
When the announcers began to say the last few minutes of the game were about to start up again, Romano pulled away, panting for air. His eyes were wide, as if he just noticed what he had done. Knowing Romano, Spain was pretty sure that was exactly the case. Roman coughed, turning away from Spain to look back at the game. Another uncomfortable minute passed between them before Romano found something to distract from what had just happened.
“What the hell!? Bastard, get off of Cavani!” he shouted as Lazio's number 77 gave Cavani a shove.
Unfortunately, Cavani shoved back, but before a fight could break out, the other players and the referee stopped the possible brawl. When Romano was about to breath a sigh of relief, the referee yellow carded both players, and Spain knew what the yellow card meant for Napoli.
“Cartellino giallo!? No!” Romano despaired. “Cavani can't miss the next game! Stupid referee!”
Spain kept his mouth shout about it being fair since both players got carded; he did not need Romano's wrath to sour the memory of the heated kiss from a few minutes ago. “You know,” Spain began, attempting to distract Romano, “I may be wrong, but as long as they hold out in the three minute stoppage time, Napoli will be in second place in Serie A, si?”
Romano froze for a moment before a grin spread to his face. “And if we win our next game and Milano loses their next one... We'll be tied for first!” he announced with a cackle. “And there's no way Lazio can make a come back with ten men. This game is in the bag!”
Usually, when Romano spoke like that, he tended to jinx his team, but this time, stoppage time came and went, and S.C.C. Napoli was victorious. Cavani was the picture of utter joy as he picked up his now shirtless teammate, Hamisk. Hands were shaken, hugs were given, and the whole Napoli team gathered together, taking each others' hands to run down the field together.
Romano grinned, almost looking as if he'd kiss Spain again; he didn't, much to Spain's disappointment, but he did take Spain's hand in his own. “We're hitting the bar to celebrate! I need to rub this in Feliciano's face!” he exclaimed as he led Spain toward the exit. “Then you can come with me to victory dinner with the team.”
Spain nodded, unable to do anything other than just let himself by tugged along. It'd been a long time since he'd seen Romano this happy, and he was just glad he could share in this happiness. ...okay, and maybe he wanted to see if he could get more kisses, but he was very chivalrous about it. Spain knew Romano might be so excited he'd kiss anyone, and well, isn't it better to kiss someone one knew? Of course, it was! Spain smiled to himself at the thought of another kiss and happily left with Romano.
Misc. Notes:
Series A: The professional soccer league in Italy with the best ranked teams in Italy. Being in the first three spots guarantees advancement to the Europa Champions League, and the winner of Series A gets the scudetto (and a trophy and bragging rights). The bottom three of the league get regulated back to Series B and have to be in the top three of Series B to get back into Series A. Napoli hasn't won since Diego Maradona was on the team over ten years ago.
S.C.C Napoli & A.C. Milano: Romano has whined about Napoli in the turtle comic strip, and they've definitely been playing better since then. They're second place in the Series A standings. A.C. Milan is at the top, winning by three points. I figured since the team is one of the big teams in the north, that'd be Venziano's team. (Also, Italian Prime Minister, Silvio Berlusconi is the owner of the team right now.)
Lazio: Lazio is the region that Rome is in, and this team is one of the two teams that plays out of Rome. They're in 5th place in the Series A standings, so their win would have helped and not hindered Milan, BUT would have hindered Napoli a bit.
Hat trick: A term used in soccer when one player makes three goals in one game. <3
Translation Notes:
Sì: Yes (in both Italian & Spanish)
Che schifo: How disgusting/This sucks (I see more as 'what a mess/fuck up,' so I dunno what the translation is, exactly. Italian.)
Che cazzo fai, Napoli: What the fuck/hell are you doing, Naples (Italian)
Pazienza: patience (Though, it's a last name in this case. Italian.)
T'ammazzo: I'll kill you (Italian)
Cartellino rosso: Red card (Italian)
Cartellino giallo: Yellow card (Italian)
Fandom: Hetalia
Character(s): Spain, Romano, mentions of the Napoli Football Club & slight Italy cameo
Pairing(s): Spain/Romano
Word Count: 1598
Genre: general/humor
Rating: PG-13/T
Notes: Whaddya mean this is more self-indulgent fic? XD There was an awesome soccer game on Sunday morning (Sunday afternoon in Italy), and I was lucky to see the second half. It was spectacular! *swoon* So, yeah. Since Napoli is Romano's team, canonically, I decided to have him see the match with Spain. XD
Link: kissing meme
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Spain had a feeling Italians were very different at a soccer game than anywhere else at any other time. The cowardice that was usually associated with them banished completely, and what was left was truly frightening. Well, to a foreigner or if you weren't rooting for the team whose section you were sitting in, Italians had become a force to be reckon with, and for some reason, many of them seemed to have fireworks...
“Lovi, why didn't you bring Feli instead of me?” he questioned cautiously, backtracking at the look Romano shot him. “Not that I don't love spending time with my Lovino, but wouldn't Feli know more about 'Serie A' than me?”
Romano scowled, and Spain breathed a sigh of relief when he caught on that the scowl wasn't meant for him. “Him? That bastard wants Lazio to win to help out his team in the points! He's no brother of mine! Traitor!”
Following Romano's eyes, Spain thought he could see Italy on the other side of the field, sitting with the Lazio fans. “Ahh,” he replied. “His team is A.C. Milano, si?”
“Sì,” Romano muttered. “Now, shut up. It's time for my anthem.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Halftime came and went, and the players were walking back onto the field. Spain thought maybe his eardrums were bleeding with all the angry cursing Italians surrounding him when the first ended with Lazio having 1-0 lead over Napoli, and no one was cursing more loudly than Romano Italy.
“Che schifo,” Romano muttered, having calmed his cursing down when he saw his team return. “Better do better this half...”
Spain put on a cheerful smile. “I'm sure they will, Lovi!” he exclaimed, putting a comforting hand on Romano's shoulder. “There's a Spaniard on the team. They should put him in!”
Romano's eyes narrowed as he pinched Spain's hand, hard; Spain yelped and rubbed his hand with a pout. “Just shut up. The line up is just fucking fine!”
But twelve minutes later, Romano's point of view on the subject changed dramatically. “Another fucking goal!? Che cazzo fai, Napoli!?” he shouted angrily, leaning over the barricade between the fans and the field.
Spain winced, wary of trying to hold Romano back. “Ah, look! Napoli's making a substitution!” he pointed out, trying to hear the names. “Mascara for Pazienza? Isn't that putting in make-up for patience...?”
“Better do something useful, Mascara!” Romano shouted, completely ignoring Spain's attempt on wordplay.
A few minutes later, Napoli sunk its first goal of the game; if Spain thought the crowd roaring in anger earlier was loud, he had been sorely mistaken. Though, Romano's look of maniacal glee was worth the imminent loss of his eardrums. Once the cheers had died down, they only started up again when Cavani headed the ball with an assist from Maggio.
“Tied! TAKE THAT, STUPID LAZIO!” Romano shouted, waving evilly at his brother across the field.
Wait, did little Ita just flip off his brother? No, Spain was going to pretend his eye sight was terrible, and he begun seeing things. There was no way Northern Italy could do that.
“Isn't Lazio also one of your teams, Lovi?” Spain mused.
Romano ignored the stupid question, wrapped back up in the game. The game was going pretty smoothly, to Spain anyway, until the ball came back to Napoli's side, where their goal was.
Another goal was made, and Lazio was ahead again. “NO!” Romano screamed, and Spain had to keep the angry Italian from jumping the barricade to strangle one of his defenders. “An own goal!? Which one was it!? Aronica? T'ammazzo!”
“Ahhh, Lovi! You shouldn't kill any of your players!” Spain shouted, holding Romano back, trying to find something to distract Romano with. “Look, Lovi! One of the Lazio players got a yellow card!”
That calmed Romano, if only slightly. It still took a good ten or so minutes for Romano to calm down enough to get back into the game. Then, at the eightieth minute...
“That's a fucking red card and penalty kick!” Romano shouted, pointing at Cavani who was downed in the box. “Cartellino rosso! Do it! Do- YES! Penalty kick! Hahahaha! Cavani, better not fuck this up!”
The whole stadium fell silent for the first time since the game began, and Spain held his breath; he knew he wouldn't want to be next to Romano if this Cavani fellow missed the penalty kick... The ball sunk into the goal, and the cheers and shouts began again, maybe louder this time.
“Tied up! Just one more goal!” Romano announced, face flushed red from the screaming.
Spain smiled. “I am sure your team can do it! Lazio is down a player now, after all.”
Romano scowled for a moment at Spain then punched him in the arm before turning back to the game. “My damn team doesn't need a fucking handicap to win, tomato-bastard,” he stated.
About five minutes later, one of the Napoli players got his first yellow card, but when Spain prepared for an angry outburst, Romano waved him off. “Not important. It doesn't even make him miss the next game, so it's fine,” he replied then pushed Spain. “Stop being stupid and enjoy the game!”
Then a minute later, Mascara headed the ball into the box, and Cavani headbutted the ball into the goal. “YES!” Romano exclaimed elatedly. “Hat trick! I'd fucking kiss you, Cavani!”
But it seemed that the rest of the Napoli team was doing that already, in a way. Cavani ended up in a pile up by the fan barricades, with not only the players that were playing but also the rest of the team and the team staff. They were so close to the barricades that some ballsy fans were even trying to climb over, just to join in the pile on themselves.
Spain, on the other hand, scarcely noticed this. As the Napoli fans shifted towards Cavani and the rest of the team, Romano had fallen into his arms, kissing him soundly. For a moment, Spain was so surprised, he didn't even kiss back, but with Romano kissing him so passionately and nearly vibrating with the excitement and adrenaline from the game and his people around him, Spain kissed back, wrapping his arms around Romano's waist to keep the Italian close. He didn't want this kiss to end because the pull of the crowd had carried Romano away.
When the announcers began to say the last few minutes of the game were about to start up again, Romano pulled away, panting for air. His eyes were wide, as if he just noticed what he had done. Knowing Romano, Spain was pretty sure that was exactly the case. Roman coughed, turning away from Spain to look back at the game. Another uncomfortable minute passed between them before Romano found something to distract from what had just happened.
“What the hell!? Bastard, get off of Cavani!” he shouted as Lazio's number 77 gave Cavani a shove.
Unfortunately, Cavani shoved back, but before a fight could break out, the other players and the referee stopped the possible brawl. When Romano was about to breath a sigh of relief, the referee yellow carded both players, and Spain knew what the yellow card meant for Napoli.
“Cartellino giallo!? No!” Romano despaired. “Cavani can't miss the next game! Stupid referee!”
Spain kept his mouth shout about it being fair since both players got carded; he did not need Romano's wrath to sour the memory of the heated kiss from a few minutes ago. “You know,” Spain began, attempting to distract Romano, “I may be wrong, but as long as they hold out in the three minute stoppage time, Napoli will be in second place in Serie A, si?”
Romano froze for a moment before a grin spread to his face. “And if we win our next game and Milano loses their next one... We'll be tied for first!” he announced with a cackle. “And there's no way Lazio can make a come back with ten men. This game is in the bag!”
Usually, when Romano spoke like that, he tended to jinx his team, but this time, stoppage time came and went, and S.C.C. Napoli was victorious. Cavani was the picture of utter joy as he picked up his now shirtless teammate, Hamisk. Hands were shaken, hugs were given, and the whole Napoli team gathered together, taking each others' hands to run down the field together.
Romano grinned, almost looking as if he'd kiss Spain again; he didn't, much to Spain's disappointment, but he did take Spain's hand in his own. “We're hitting the bar to celebrate! I need to rub this in Feliciano's face!” he exclaimed as he led Spain toward the exit. “Then you can come with me to victory dinner with the team.”
Spain nodded, unable to do anything other than just let himself by tugged along. It'd been a long time since he'd seen Romano this happy, and he was just glad he could share in this happiness. ...okay, and maybe he wanted to see if he could get more kisses, but he was very chivalrous about it. Spain knew Romano might be so excited he'd kiss anyone, and well, isn't it better to kiss someone one knew? Of course, it was! Spain smiled to himself at the thought of another kiss and happily left with Romano.
Misc. Notes:
Series A: The professional soccer league in Italy with the best ranked teams in Italy. Being in the first three spots guarantees advancement to the Europa Champions League, and the winner of Series A gets the scudetto (and a trophy and bragging rights). The bottom three of the league get regulated back to Series B and have to be in the top three of Series B to get back into Series A. Napoli hasn't won since Diego Maradona was on the team over ten years ago.
S.C.C Napoli & A.C. Milano: Romano has whined about Napoli in the turtle comic strip, and they've definitely been playing better since then. They're second place in the Series A standings. A.C. Milan is at the top, winning by three points. I figured since the team is one of the big teams in the north, that'd be Venziano's team. (Also, Italian Prime Minister, Silvio Berlusconi is the owner of the team right now.)
Lazio: Lazio is the region that Rome is in, and this team is one of the two teams that plays out of Rome. They're in 5th place in the Series A standings, so their win would have helped and not hindered Milan, BUT would have hindered Napoli a bit.
Hat trick: A term used in soccer when one player makes three goals in one game. <3
Translation Notes:
Sì: Yes (in both Italian & Spanish)
Che schifo: How disgusting/This sucks (I see more as 'what a mess/fuck up,' so I dunno what the translation is, exactly. Italian.)
Che cazzo fai, Napoli: What the fuck/hell are you doing, Naples (Italian)
Pazienza: patience (Though, it's a last name in this case. Italian.)
T'ammazzo: I'll kill you (Italian)
Cartellino rosso: Red card (Italian)
Cartellino giallo: Yellow card (Italian)