A/N: So I'm attempting to write a multi-chapter fic again (we'll see how this one goes lol). Basically, I love the idea of a high school AU, and decided to incorporate it with my friend's idea of Romano working at a pizza. Now, combine that with out love of PruMano- Prussia and Romano, our resident jerks- and voila!: Prumano's Delivery Service was born. I hope you guys enjoy. I'm always open to reviews and suggestions, so please feel free to drop by my PM or add a comment. And now, without further ado, I present to you my first PruMano fanfiction...

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia

Prumano's Delivery Service
A Lily By Any Other Name

"Welcome to Fetta di Roma. May I take your order?"

Lovino popped a bubble with his gum as he stood at the register of his grandpa's pizza parlor. He watched lazily as his little brother Feliciano flitted around from booth to booth like a tomato fairy to check in on the clients of the small pizzeria. Lovino himself was in no hurry to pay attention to the guy ordering in front of him because this guy was taking forever to make up his damn mind. Indecisive idiots like these were why he hated being on register duty. He knew their pizza was good and all, but people honestly did not need to take five minutes to decide between the Margherita and a pizza topped with basil and tomatoes. Feliciano was better at doing all this socializing, but table duty was no fun either. Lovino would honestly rather be running deliveries in Grandpa's crap car, but since they were so busy, both brothers were needed in the restaurant itself.

"Um..." The guy- whom looked around his age and sported wire-framed glasses and a stupid-looking bomber jacket- at the register was squinting at the menu board as if it were written in a foreign language (well, it kind of was, but the prices were still in English, right?). "What's a calzone?"

Lovino sighed. People were so uncultured. Contrary to popular belief, Italian cuisine did not just consist of pizza and pasta.

"It's kind of a stuffed bread thing." Lovino attempted to explain. "Like a pizza, but with crust on the outside and toppings on the inside."

"Oh!" Bomber Jacket looked as if a light bulb of realization just went off in his tiny mind. "So, like an Italian HotPocket?"

"Sure." Lovino shrugged. "Is that what you want?"

"No, I want the meat-lover's pizza. Large. Hold the onions."

Lovino sighed as he wrote the order down on a slip of paper. They really needed to get a more modern system of conveying orders. Maybe Grandpa could invest in those screen things they had at the McDonalds down the block.

"Will that be all?"

"And three extra-large Cokes. One diet, though, since I'm kind of on a diet. Don't know if you can tell."

Lovino raised an eye brow at the cover boy of high school jocks, but drew three Styrofoam cups from their stack, and filled them all to the brim with the fizzy liquid from the soda fountain. He hoped this guy didn't want ice in his drink because no way was he splashing himself with Coke now.

"That'll be $20.58. The pizza will be ready in twenty minutes." Lovino felt as if the receipt he held in his hand was a script that he was reading from. "Will you be dining in or taking out?"

"Taking out." Bomber Jacket answered, balancing his drinks in his arms. "Hey, why is there take out when this isn't a Chinese food place?"

"Because." Lovino gritted his teeth. This guy was getting annoying. "We currently don't have a delivery service."

"Oh." Bomber Jacket blinked. "Well, you should get one." He paused, squinting his blue eyes behind his wire-framed glasses as if in thought. Lovino worried that if he thought too hard his brain would short circuit. Finally, Alfred seemed to remember how to speak again: "Don't you go to my school?"

Lovino blinked. Yeah... He knew this guy. His name was Alfred or something. Total jock and JROTC nerd. Probably failing his freshman math course. He hung out with that one Matthew kid whom was definitely a pot head, and with that loud Danish kid in his ceramics class. He was also friends with the resident drug dealer- Abel what's-his-face- and occasionally talked to Feli. Lovino remembered having a few classes with him in his sophomore year. Hilariously enough, the guy didn't remember him even after he probably copied off him all semester long in biology.

"Yeah." Lovino nodded. "I'm a senior."

"Really?" Alfred- that was his name, right?- sounded surprised. "Me too! I've never seen you around, dude. What's your name?"

"Lovino Vargas." He stated flatly. "I used to sit next to you in tenth grade biology."

"Oh." Bomber Jacket blinked. "Well, I don't really remember you. So you work here, huh?"

"Yeah..." Lovino frowned. Suddenly, he realized there was a line behind Alfred/Bomber Jacket. "It's my grandpa's place. Is there anything wrong with that?"

"No, not at all, dude!" Alfred/Bomber Jacket had yet to realize he was holding up the line, and continued to amiably chat with him as if they'd been friends their whole lives. "It's kinda cool, actually, and you guys make awesome pizza. My name is Alfred, by the way. Alfred. F Jones."

"Yeah, cool." Lovino noticed the line behind him was getting impatient. "There's a line behind you-"

Suddenly, someone outside banged on their car horn, startling all the clients. A crap car that looked even more crap than Grandpa's crap car pulled up outside the pizzeria. The dark green paint was peeling, and the tires had those spike hoops. A cross necklace- not a rosary- hung on the mirror. Lovino was ninety nine percent sure the inside smelled like sex and weed. Two guys that looked to be his age were sitting inside. The driver had silvery hair, strange red eyes, and wore a black t-shirt with some sort of band name on it. Lovino couldn't see much of the guy in the passenger seat save for a mop of unruly blonde hair that reminded him of the broom they used to sweep the parlor with.

But worst of all was the music.

So.

Damn.

Loud.

Lovino had ninety-nine problems with Iggy Azalea, and the jerk bastards blasting her music were every one of them.

The driver yelled something unintelligible that sounded like "Where's the food, I'm starving", but Lovino dismissed it. He could already see some of the customers looking uncomfortable. No one wanted to eat at a place where wannabe-thug teenagers hung out.

"Those are my friends that just pulled up." Alfred sounded proud of recognizing that car. "They're kinda waiting for me, so is that pizza ready yet?"

Fortunately, Lovino thought as he grabbed the box teetering on the rack below the kitchen window. It was hot from the just-out-of-the oven pizza inside, and so Lovino handed it with care. But in reality, he wanted to throw the box at Alfred as he watched the little old lady in line behind the jock leave.

"Here." He slid the box towards Alfred. "Your pizza's done. Tell your friends to turn their music down before pulling up here. Jerk."

"Thanks, bro!" Alfred beamed at him as if Lovino's snarky remark had flown completely out of the ballpark. "I'll see you at school, 'kay?"

No.

A/N: Reviews are welcome? Plus, check out my other stories, guys. I wrote a bunch of historical! Hetalia one-shots over winter break, and uploaded them on here.