[closed]

[middayitaly]

Characters: Spain and Romano
Location: Casualty Communal 11-I, AKA Spain's Den of Terror
Rating: PG-13 for Romano's pottymouth, I guess.
Time: August 27, late afternoon (after siesta, of course)
Description: Romano visits a particular idiot with intentions on finally taking him on that tour he promised. But on this journey of epic proportions, he

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[eltercio]

Despite having absolutely no warning concerning Romano's arrival, Spain could sense a certain disturbance in the force. Something told him that he wanted to go to the door and that something good would be behind it. He didn't bother straightening up the apartment or straightening up his person even though it hadn't been too long since he had waken up from his afternoon siesta.

He approached the door and just as he was reaching out for the doorknob, there was a knock and Spain could feel his heart leap up into his chest. (Both because he was surprised but also because he was excited.)

Door Number One opened slowly to reveal his prize behind it.

"Romano~" Spain leaped forward and enveloped his guest in a tight hug. "You came to visit me entirely on your own!"

[middayitaly]

"Yeah, yeah, don't have a damn heart attack over it," Romano uttered, simply walking into the apartment with a bit of difficulty, since Spain was still attached to him. He found out long ago that there really wasn't much use struggling against the dumbass's hold, and that ignoring him tended to work just as well. And it wasn't as if there was anybody around to see this ridiculous display, anyways.

Kicking the door shut with a foot, he scanned the apartment. Well, it was pretty unremarkable. Looked exactly like his room... before the frogs attacked and wreaked havoc, anyways.

"Got any food?", he asked first, finally tugging at Spain's arms and testing his grip to see if there was any way to pry the guy off without resorting to a good headbutt.

[eltercio]

Of course, Spain didn't realize that he was still holding onto Romano. He just fit so comfortably in his arms that, unless there was flailing and violence involved, Spain could just latch onto him all day and not even realize that such an action might actually be kind of annoying. Though, at the mention of food, his grip did relent and he retreated to get the plate of churros he had made for a guest earlier.

"The tomatoes haven't grown yet," he told Romano. (The information was unnecessary. The tomatoes were planted yesterday and Spain knew that even Romano knew that it took a long time for them to grow.) "But if you keep coming back, you'll catch them someday!"

He placed the plate down on the table and smiled. "Do you want some coffee too? I have coffee! I haven't made the T-shirts yet but when I make T-shirts, I will sell you one for a reduced price!"

Spain paused and decided to ask a question, "What brings you all the way up here, Romano? I didn't think I'd see your tomato cheeks today."

[middayitaly]

And of course, Romano took a seat at the counter and started munching on the churros as if mooching off of Spain's resources was only second nature for him. Which... it totally was.

"As if I care about your tomatoes," he replied through his food, even though he definitely did care. After all, good tomatoes were hard to come by around here. "... Just send me a message when they're ripe, goddammit."

He let Spain rabble on a bit and get out all of his questions before answering any of them. "Yes to coffee, don't want one of your stupid t-shirts, and fuck, my cheeks are not tomatoey, bastard!" Really, how many fucking times would he have to remind Spain that?!

Finishing off a churro with an air of indignation, he finally obliged by saying, "I said I'd show you around, right? Better get it over with before you get lost somewhere and cause trouble, dammit."