Spain and Romano were sitting next to each other in the world conference hall; all the nations had gathered to watch the finale of the world cup on the ridiculously large television America and Japan had installed. Spain was cutting off circulation as he grasped Romano's arm in a death grip, but the other wasn't complaining.
The mood was almost unbearably tense, and Canada-ever the peacemaker- had made sure to situate Spain and the Netherlands as far away from each other as possible. There were only four minutes left in overtime, and for once, everyone was quiet.
Then, Cesc Fàbregas and Andrés Iniesta pulled a move that won Spain the game!
"LOVI, WE DID IT, WE DID IT LOVI, WE WON WE WON WE WON!" Spain jumped to his feet, picking up Romano and spinning him around, grinning at his lover who was- surprisingly enough,- smiling back!
"No, stupid Spagna, you won." And Romano leaned in closer and kissed Spain, sticking out his middle finger in an obvious gesture to the others that meant they were supposed to leave, and now.
And seeing as Spain's shirt was already off, and Romano's was getting there, the rest of the nations hightailed it out of the room before being mentally scarred (again). Except for France, who had to be dragged out by Prussia, who tried to explain that "Tony and his boy toy need some alone time."
Which they really did, considering the identical tents in both of their pants.
Authoress' Random Ramble
Sorry for the length/lack of quality *sobs*I just wrote this really fast and…
Less than three. Less than three