AN: I am a Spamano shipper, but I'm waiting for an original idea before I write a Spamano fic. I still had the desire to write a story though…so crack pairings! Yay! Enjoy the Germany/Romano and Spain/Veneziano.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.
Prologue
The strong scents of fried potatoes and sizzling sausages woke Romano from his sleep. The Italian man rolled—careful not to fall off the side of the couch—and squinted up at the clock on the wall.
7:06. "Damn," muttered Romano as he sat up and popped his back, "slept in again." He stood and shuffled into the kitchen, ignoring the way the cold tile bit at his bare feet. The tall man standing at the stove did not turn around as Romano grabbed the plates out of the cupboard and brought them over.
"You slept in."
"Shut up, potato bastard," snapped Romano, but he was too tired to put much malice behind it. Instead of replying the German filled three plates with the food then covered one in foil and placed it in the fridge. Romano grabbed one of the remaining plates and took it to the table after pouring himself a large glass of orange juice. Germany followed him with a coffee mug.
Breakfast passed in silence besides the clink of silverware. Romano ate as quickly as possible and drowned the taste of German food with the orange juice. He stood and took his plate to the sink, then turned to leave.
"You didn't do the dishes," Germany said as he took a gulp of coffee. Romano turned and glared at him.
"I did them yesterday! You do the damn dishes!"
"I cooked breakfast."
"So? Your food sucks!"
"You still ate it. Do the dishes." Germany and Romano started each other down, the first annoyed and the other fuming. Romano eventually gave a shout of annoyance and stomped back to the sink. Germany merely picked up a newspaper and began reading. He ignored the way the Italian snatched away his plate and silverware. He also ignored the muttered curses and glares sent his way.
As the angry man finished doing the dishes Germany carefully folded up the newspaper and placed it on the table. He cleared his throat and said, "Leave them on the rack. I'll put them away."
"Why? Afraid I'll break all your precious dishes again?"
"Yes," replied Germany simply as he placed his empty coffee cup by the sink. Romano groaned in annoyance but grabbed the mug and cleaned it too. The taller man leaned back against the counter beside him. He finally asked, "Are you going to take that suitcase to him today?"
Romano froze but only for a moment. "No," he snapped with another glare at the blond.
"You have put it off for three days."
"I'll get to it! I'm busy!"
"Busy occupying my couch?"
Romano pouted and Germany's mouth twitched up into a smirk, but the faces of both men fell. Nearly a full minute passed in silence between the two as they stared off into space. An annoyed grunt broke the uneasy quiet before Romano cleaned his hands and dried them. "I don't…" he muttered as he tossed the hand towel onto the table. It missed and flopped on the floor. The Italian stared down at it blankly. "I don't want to…interrupt their happiness." An edge of bitterness laced his words.
Germany did not reply. He did not have to. He understood.
