In Italia (part 1)
It was during a normal world meeting that the normal argument ended up straying into a new territory. This in of itself was not new, despite their ages there was always something new to try. This topic however was one of the most heated of the year with the comments passed back and forth. As usual it was between the bitter rivals France and England though several other nations had added their own comments. Also as usual when France was involved, it was about the matter of sex. Well, not quite sex, it was actually about turn ones, accents specifically.
"Ah, ma Cherie, you could never understand the affect that my magnificent French has on people. As a beautiful Romance language it could be nothing less." France stated. "Damn frog, I understand that that language of yours is a turn off. It could never compare to my English!" England spat back, America giving a small nod behind him in full support of his boyfriend. France turned his attention to both "Of course you would support your lover l'Amérique, you're one the first to find his horrible words a turn on, are you not?" giving a lecherous grin as their faces flamed. "England as well, I see the way you look at him when he slips into one of his accents, oui. But still I must protest that my language is the best, yours could never compete, and the only one who could ever match up to the Language of Amour is the Language of Passion, oui Spain?"
Italy, who had been half listening to the argument spoke up, an adorable pout on his face, "Big brother France what about our language?" The blond turned to the brunette and gave a charming smile "Yours is the language of Romance my dear Italy, it doesn't stir the passionate fires of Amour as ours does, oui Espagne?" He asked again, looking for an agreement, whenever there was an argument between him and England Spain always sided with him out of spite for the Brit. But when he only heard silence a small frown grew on his handsome face as he looked at his friend. Spain was staring into the space above his left shoulder with a peculiar expression on his face. "Spain?" The man's expression didn't change simply staring into space but as France looked closer he began noticing something, something that drew a mischievous grin onto his face, "Spain are you blushing?" Several other nations had turned their attention to the Europeans; the argument had been winding down but France's introduction of Spain had the potential to turn it back into a fiery war of words and thrown objects. They paid even closer attention as Spain was not known for passing up on a good argument with England.
The Spaniard finally snapped out of it "Que? What was that France?" France was still watching him through narrowed eyes, it had been awhile since he had seen Spain like this and he wanted to know why. Thoughts of continuing his argument with England were pushed to the side in wake of this new situation. "I said that the only language that could compete with the language of love in the sheets was the language of passion and I asked if you agreed. You do, do you not?"
Spain took no notice of the look France was giving him and England's curses as that peculiar expression slipped on his face again before a sheepish look replaced it in a split second his blush reddening the slightest bit. "Actually France I-"he couldn't continue as another voice interrupted him "Oi bastardo are the tea and wine bastards done arguing yet?" Romano plopped into the empty seat next to the green eyed man. He had been in another corner of the room watching Prussia run away from an angry Hungary and her frying pan. "What?" he asked inching himself back slightly when Spain's head whipped around to stare wide eyed at him, a slight blush on his cheeks.
He looked at France who was watching them with an intrigued expression "Bastard, what did you do to him" "Me, I did nothing. I merely asked if he agreed that Spanish was as good as French for getting one's lover in the mood." "Bastard, what about Italian?" Romano retorted "No, ma Cherie, Italian is a language of Romance, it is better suited for the…" he paused "The 'warm fuzzy feelings' or when the mood is over."
Romano glared, his lips turning into a frown as he cast a look back at his lover who was still staring at him. France watched a surprised expression flitting across his face when a smirk appeared on the Italian's face, his posture shifting as he turned his chair to face the practically gaping country. "Is that so?" he spoke his voice dropping an octave. The other countries were now quiet watching as his eyes grew even wider and a noticeable twitch run through the Spanish nation at those words. "Wine bastard, you saying something about my language before right?" The olive eyed youth cast a sly look back at France then dismissing his presence as he turned his smug smirk back on his boyfriend. "Spagne" he said watching Spain give an audible swallow "Si mi amor?" the curly haired man choked out. The Mediterranean nation leaned forward slightly, eyes lowering to half-mast and smirk still present, ignoring the click of Hungary's camera "Dove fuggi." he crooned and waited for the reaction.
Spain stiffened before springing up from his chair a dark expression taking over his face. He grabbed his lover and hauled him over his shoulder remarking something in Spanish that had Romano looking positively gleeful as the man charged out the room like a bull on a rampage. As the door slammed closed the room was left in a dead silence as the nation's sat there stunned by what had just taken place. "What the hell was that?" Prussia remarked "I do believe the frog was just proven wrong." England replied too in shock to enjoy it. France was too busy pondering what he was going to do with this new information.