More America/Romano kink meme goodness
A Hero's Day Off: for the prompt: Nation A calls Nation B their hero. America gets jealous.
Word Count: 1,606
America stood patiently by the stairs outside the meeting building, waiting for Romano to come out. He had to talk with his brother about some things and had asked America to just wait for him outside, because it was rather distracting having him sit there whining the whole time. But now America was bored and hungry and Romano was taking so long and-
Romano came out of the building, looking grumpier than normal, and made a beeline straight for America, who eagerly grabbed his hand and kissed his cheek.
“You ready to go?” he asked with a smile plastered on his face.
“Yeah,” Romano sighed. The two of them took three steps away from the building before the Italian plunged a hand into his pockets frantically. “Shit…”
“What’s wrong?”
“I left my phone in the meeting room…if I go back inside I’ll have to deal with even more fucking politicians…”
Just as Romano was about to resign himself to a night completely ruined, Australia and New Zealand exited the building, and upon spotting the irate Italian, New Zealand immediately walked over.
“Oh, Romano! I was hoping I’d catch you,” he said as he approached, “Is this your phone? I found it upstairs.”
“Yeah, it is,” Romano took the small red flip phone, complete with his tomato phone charm, from the island nation’s hand. “Thanks Australia, you’re a real hero you know?”
“That’s not Australia,” America corrected, “its Canada.” And did Romano just call Canada his hero?
“Actually I’m New Zealand…” So Romano called New Zealand his hero? Romano shouldn’t need Canada or New Zealand or Australia to be his hero. Why should he when he was dating America?
“Sorry. Thanks again New Zealand,” Romano smiled as he put his cell in his pocket. America glared at the island nation and tugged his Italian closer.
“No problem!” He waved before running back to his waiting brother, America glaring at the back of his head all the while, only turning away when he felt the poking at his ribs.
“Bastard, I’m hungry. Let’s go eat already.”
***
All throughout diner, America was distracted. Romano may have noticed, but it wasn’t in his nature to ask if anything was wrong and instead opted to just become even grumpier than before and demand that his American take him home early.
Even back at America’s house, those words still haunted him.
You’re a real hero, you know?
What was so great about New Zealand anyway? Just because he got some stupid phone? America could have done that, in fact, he was on his way to do that for Romano, New Zealand just got there first.
“Hey,” America looked up from his inner musings to find Romano standing across the kitchen counter not making eye contact, “A-are you…” he got inexplicably red and sighed before turning around, “fuck it. I’m going to bed. Feel free to join me when you’re done brooding.” He sighed and stomped his way upstairs to America’s bed.
That’s right, America’s bed, not New Zealand’s bed, because in the end, Romano went home with him, not Canada down under. What could New Zealand offer Romano that America couldn’t give him anyway? He had nothing besides sheep. America had sheep too…somewhere. He was sure they were still around.
Yeah, America was an awesome boyfriend, and he wasn’t going to lose out to some sheep! Hell he’d invent a cell phone that never left Romano’s pocket to prove how much of a hero he was, that Romano didn’t need New Zealand around when America was just so much better. It’s not like Romano was just going to up and leave him for New Zealand because of that…
“N-New Zealand, wait up a moment please!” Romano ran up to him after the meeting and stopped in front of the other nation, slightly red and panting.
“What do you want?” New Zealand asked as he put on his sunglasses.
Romano stared up at him with his bright green eyes. “I-I was just super impressed by your phone-retrieval skills, a-and I realized that I love you! I love you so much Australia!”
“New Zealand,” the island nation corrected, “But I thought you and America were…”
“America? Who needs America when I can have a real hero like you?” unable to restrain himself anymore, Romano jumped into New Zealand’s arms, “Take me away sheep boy!”
“With pleasure…”
“Oof!” America’s head hit the counter with a smack, bringing him out of his perverse daydreaming.
“You were growling and snarling,” Tony explained as he grabbed a cola from the fridge.
“Oh…sorry about that,” his alien friend nodded and muttered something before taking his leave, leaving America to deal with his thoughts.
This is all that stupid phone’s fault. If only it could have just stayed in Romano’s pocket where it belonged, none of this would have happened.
Quietly, so as not to wake the Italian, America snuck into his bedroom and tip toed to where Romano was already deep asleep. After gazing at his adorable sleeping face for a few seconds, the blond turned his attention to the nightstand, or more specifically, the red cell phone that lay upon it.
He quickly snatched the phone and made his way back downstairs to the kitchen, where he sat down at the table and turned the phone in his hands.
New Zealand was probably already using the cell to steal Romano away from him. The whole ‘return the phone thing’ was just a cover up for some dastardly plot! New Zealand wasn’t a hero at all, he was the villain!
Angered by this new epiphany, America flipped the phone open, intending to interrogate it until it laid out New Zealand’s plan for him, but stopped when he saw the wallpaper.
America took a lot of pictures of himself with Romano’s phone, because he believed Romano should be able to look at his awesome face no matter where he was, but he knew the Italian deleted half of them. America was fairly certain he never took a picture of himself when he was sleeping. And he certainly didn’t change it to Romano’s wallpaper.
In the photo, America was sprawled out on Romano’s bed, fast asleep. He was wearing a white t-shirt and boxers, his hair was a mess, his mouth was ajar, and his arm and leg were dangling off the bed, but with the early morning Italian sun hitting him…
“Wh-what are you doing with my phone?!” Romano shouted from the kitchen entryway, where he stood wearing a pair of America’s boxers. America turned around in time to see him stomp over and snatch it away, blushing madly and refusing to make eye contact.
“Sorry, I was just looking…” an awkward silence descended upon the room before America broke it, “So when did you-”
“I didn’t! I-it was…Spain…”
“Spain broke into your house and took a picture of me when I was sleeping with your phone? That’s really creepy…”
“Y-yeah, well…I-I suppose he thought it was…cute, or something…” he cradled his phone closer to his chest as if afraid America would snatch it away from him.
“He shouldn’t be breaking into your house to take pictures of me. I’ll go have a talk with him about that.”
“No!” Romano’s eyes grew wider as he clutched the phone even tighter, “It’s fine! I don’t care!”
“Well I do. The only one I don’t mind taking pictures of me when I’m asleep is you.” America stood up to go give Spain a piece of his mind, time difference be damned, but a hand tugged on his shirt and made him stop.
“D-don’t be stupid…Spain obviously didn’t take it.”
“It was France wasn’t it?” America asked accusingly, “Or your brother! I always thought he was a closet pervert…” that earned him a whack on the arm.
“Don’t compare Veneciano to one of those krauts!”
“It was New Zealand wasn’t it?” Yes, America could see it now. Romano letting New Zealand into his house while America was still sleeping upstairs so they could-
“No? Where did that come from?"
“Well someone had to take the picture, and when I find out who it was…” America glared threateningly towards the kitchen door, as if the perpetrator would walk right through the door at that very moment so he could kick his, or her (he wouldn’t put this past Hungary) ass.
“Stop being paranoid!” Romano shouted before he turned to look anywhere but America’s face. “I-it was me…” he muttered eventually.
“So it was you,” America visibly relaxed, “Why did you…?”
“B-because…” he flipped open his phone again and just stared at it for a bit, “I l-like being able to look at you when you’re not with me, and you were kinda cute that morning and god, I sound just like Spain!” he shut the phone and leaned against the wall, “My life has hit a new low.”
“It’s a cute low,” America leaned in and kissed his forehead, “But, you miss me? Even if I can’t get your phone for you?”
Romano raised an eyebrow, “I don’t know what that has to do with anything, but…yeah. Sometimes. Not because of you though, I have my own reasons for missing you.”
“Of course,” he planted another kiss on the Italian’s head, “I miss you too, you know.”
“I know,” Romano grabbed the American’s hand and dragged him upstairs, “Now can we please go to bed? I…its cold out, and I need your body heat.”
“Whatever you say, Romano.” That’s right, America was going to Romano’s bed, America was the one Romano missed, and America was Romano’s phone’s wallpaper.
Suck on that New Zealand.
A/N: It's part of my headcannon that New Zealand is sorta treated like Canada, as in people usually forget about him or confuse him with Australia, except for America, who confuses him with Canada. Australia confuses Canada with New Zealand sometimes too.
Word Count: 1,606
America stood patiently by the stairs outside the meeting building, waiting for Romano to come out. He had to talk with his brother about some things and had asked America to just wait for him outside, because it was rather distracting having him sit there whining the whole time. But now America was bored and hungry and Romano was taking so long and-
Romano came out of the building, looking grumpier than normal, and made a beeline straight for America, who eagerly grabbed his hand and kissed his cheek.
“You ready to go?” he asked with a smile plastered on his face.
“Yeah,” Romano sighed. The two of them took three steps away from the building before the Italian plunged a hand into his pockets frantically. “Shit…”
“What’s wrong?”
“I left my phone in the meeting room…if I go back inside I’ll have to deal with even more fucking politicians…”
Just as Romano was about to resign himself to a night completely ruined, Australia and New Zealand exited the building, and upon spotting the irate Italian, New Zealand immediately walked over.
“Oh, Romano! I was hoping I’d catch you,” he said as he approached, “Is this your phone? I found it upstairs.”
“Yeah, it is,” Romano took the small red flip phone, complete with his tomato phone charm, from the island nation’s hand. “Thanks Australia, you’re a real hero you know?”
“That’s not Australia,” America corrected, “its Canada.” And did Romano just call Canada his hero?
“Actually I’m New Zealand…” So Romano called New Zealand his hero? Romano shouldn’t need Canada or New Zealand or Australia to be his hero. Why should he when he was dating America?
“Sorry. Thanks again New Zealand,” Romano smiled as he put his cell in his pocket. America glared at the island nation and tugged his Italian closer.
“No problem!” He waved before running back to his waiting brother, America glaring at the back of his head all the while, only turning away when he felt the poking at his ribs.
“Bastard, I’m hungry. Let’s go eat already.”
***
All throughout diner, America was distracted. Romano may have noticed, but it wasn’t in his nature to ask if anything was wrong and instead opted to just become even grumpier than before and demand that his American take him home early.
Even back at America’s house, those words still haunted him.
You’re a real hero, you know?
What was so great about New Zealand anyway? Just because he got some stupid phone? America could have done that, in fact, he was on his way to do that for Romano, New Zealand just got there first.
“Hey,” America looked up from his inner musings to find Romano standing across the kitchen counter not making eye contact, “A-are you…” he got inexplicably red and sighed before turning around, “fuck it. I’m going to bed. Feel free to join me when you’re done brooding.” He sighed and stomped his way upstairs to America’s bed.
That’s right, America’s bed, not New Zealand’s bed, because in the end, Romano went home with him, not Canada down under. What could New Zealand offer Romano that America couldn’t give him anyway? He had nothing besides sheep. America had sheep too…somewhere. He was sure they were still around.
Yeah, America was an awesome boyfriend, and he wasn’t going to lose out to some sheep! Hell he’d invent a cell phone that never left Romano’s pocket to prove how much of a hero he was, that Romano didn’t need New Zealand around when America was just so much better. It’s not like Romano was just going to up and leave him for New Zealand because of that…
“N-New Zealand, wait up a moment please!” Romano ran up to him after the meeting and stopped in front of the other nation, slightly red and panting.
“What do you want?” New Zealand asked as he put on his sunglasses.
Romano stared up at him with his bright green eyes. “I-I was just super impressed by your phone-retrieval skills, a-and I realized that I love you! I love you so much Australia!”
“New Zealand,” the island nation corrected, “But I thought you and America were…”
“America? Who needs America when I can have a real hero like you?” unable to restrain himself anymore, Romano jumped into New Zealand’s arms, “Take me away sheep boy!”
“With pleasure…”
“Oof!” America’s head hit the counter with a smack, bringing him out of his perverse daydreaming.
“You were growling and snarling,” Tony explained as he grabbed a cola from the fridge.
“Oh…sorry about that,” his alien friend nodded and muttered something before taking his leave, leaving America to deal with his thoughts.
This is all that stupid phone’s fault. If only it could have just stayed in Romano’s pocket where it belonged, none of this would have happened.
Quietly, so as not to wake the Italian, America snuck into his bedroom and tip toed to where Romano was already deep asleep. After gazing at his adorable sleeping face for a few seconds, the blond turned his attention to the nightstand, or more specifically, the red cell phone that lay upon it.
He quickly snatched the phone and made his way back downstairs to the kitchen, where he sat down at the table and turned the phone in his hands.
New Zealand was probably already using the cell to steal Romano away from him. The whole ‘return the phone thing’ was just a cover up for some dastardly plot! New Zealand wasn’t a hero at all, he was the villain!
Angered by this new epiphany, America flipped the phone open, intending to interrogate it until it laid out New Zealand’s plan for him, but stopped when he saw the wallpaper.
America took a lot of pictures of himself with Romano’s phone, because he believed Romano should be able to look at his awesome face no matter where he was, but he knew the Italian deleted half of them. America was fairly certain he never took a picture of himself when he was sleeping. And he certainly didn’t change it to Romano’s wallpaper.
In the photo, America was sprawled out on Romano’s bed, fast asleep. He was wearing a white t-shirt and boxers, his hair was a mess, his mouth was ajar, and his arm and leg were dangling off the bed, but with the early morning Italian sun hitting him…
“Wh-what are you doing with my phone?!” Romano shouted from the kitchen entryway, where he stood wearing a pair of America’s boxers. America turned around in time to see him stomp over and snatch it away, blushing madly and refusing to make eye contact.
“Sorry, I was just looking…” an awkward silence descended upon the room before America broke it, “So when did you-”
“I didn’t! I-it was…Spain…”
“Spain broke into your house and took a picture of me when I was sleeping with your phone? That’s really creepy…”
“Y-yeah, well…I-I suppose he thought it was…cute, or something…” he cradled his phone closer to his chest as if afraid America would snatch it away from him.
“He shouldn’t be breaking into your house to take pictures of me. I’ll go have a talk with him about that.”
“No!” Romano’s eyes grew wider as he clutched the phone even tighter, “It’s fine! I don’t care!”
“Well I do. The only one I don’t mind taking pictures of me when I’m asleep is you.” America stood up to go give Spain a piece of his mind, time difference be damned, but a hand tugged on his shirt and made him stop.
“D-don’t be stupid…Spain obviously didn’t take it.”
“It was France wasn’t it?” America asked accusingly, “Or your brother! I always thought he was a closet pervert…” that earned him a whack on the arm.
“Don’t compare Veneciano to one of those krauts!”
“It was New Zealand wasn’t it?” Yes, America could see it now. Romano letting New Zealand into his house while America was still sleeping upstairs so they could-
“No? Where did that come from?"
“Well someone had to take the picture, and when I find out who it was…” America glared threateningly towards the kitchen door, as if the perpetrator would walk right through the door at that very moment so he could kick his, or her (he wouldn’t put this past Hungary) ass.
“Stop being paranoid!” Romano shouted before he turned to look anywhere but America’s face. “I-it was me…” he muttered eventually.
“So it was you,” America visibly relaxed, “Why did you…?”
“B-because…” he flipped open his phone again and just stared at it for a bit, “I l-like being able to look at you when you’re not with me, and you were kinda cute that morning and god, I sound just like Spain!” he shut the phone and leaned against the wall, “My life has hit a new low.”
“It’s a cute low,” America leaned in and kissed his forehead, “But, you miss me? Even if I can’t get your phone for you?”
Romano raised an eyebrow, “I don’t know what that has to do with anything, but…yeah. Sometimes. Not because of you though, I have my own reasons for missing you.”
“Of course,” he planted another kiss on the Italian’s head, “I miss you too, you know.”
“I know,” Romano grabbed the American’s hand and dragged him upstairs, “Now can we please go to bed? I…its cold out, and I need your body heat.”
“Whatever you say, Romano.” That’s right, America was going to Romano’s bed, America was the one Romano missed, and America was Romano’s phone’s wallpaper.
Suck on that New Zealand.
A/N: It's part of my headcannon that New Zealand is sorta treated like Canada, as in people usually forget about him or confuse him with Australia, except for America, who confuses him with Canada. Australia confuses Canada with New Zealand sometimes too.