Warnings: a very tsundere Lovino, a Spain-like Denmark and a special appearance of Norway.
Author's Note: Based on a crack-pairing challenge on another site. The roulette gave me... Den x Romano first. Pretty proud to be the first to write for these two~. Feedback/criticism is always loved!
Disclaimer: Hidekaz Himaruya-sensei owns Hetalia and all it's characters; I do not.
Far too lapis-lazuli eyes stared at him openly, enticing him in a manner he had yet to have ever experienced.
Certainly, the Tomato bastard was quite the definition of possessive at some point in his ruling over him, or even that Potato bastard his idiot of his brother hangs out with would send him the occasionally demanding look. Damn freaks. Except, this ― the, what he could only depict as a yearning gaze ― was much too foreign for the Italian to even commence to comprehend.
Scowling darkly in response to the spiky-haired Dane, Romano cursed under his breath as he felt an all too familiar rush of heat claim his cheeks.
It hadn't been too long since these, these reactions had begun. At first, he had presumed that his nearly chronic flushing was acting up again, and that he was growing ever the more irritated now that his idiot of a brother dragged the Wurst-loving bastard into their home almost daily. Even when he had thought that asking that damned France for advice, had he received no indication of a possible attraction to the previously non-existent blond.
But, now?
Not caring one bit that maybe the chilling 'thump' his forehead gave as he slammed it against the large World Meeting table, the Italian huffed between his crossed arms.
For once, in a long time, he could almost testify that Life was just egging him on to permanent isolation ―
"Hey, ah, um, Romano?"
Beating down the highly eager urge to shoot his head up, the redhead merely tilted himself so he could at least see who it was addressing him.
He immediately turned a darker red when it dawned that it was the very blond tormenting his already perplexing emotions.
So, much in his fashion when he was confounded, at a loss and unwilling to show his true colors ― Romano succinctly snapped back.
"What the hell do you want?"
Lucidly taken aback at the uncalled for, tersely given reply, the Dane's smile faltered. Romano, now berating himself for having been the cause of it, only furrowed his brows. Which, subsequently, provided the blond a reason to have his initial resolve stagger.
"Oh, well, haha… you see, I kind of…" he began to trail rather nervously, suddenly choosing then to avoid beautifully chartreuse eyes.
Romano scowled even harder, absentmindedly, as he sat up.
"What?" he asked again, agitation prevalent in his tone, as in his mannerisms; if his rapidly drumming fingers and pink flush were anything to go by.
Denmark's brain stopped then, noticing the embarrassed, almost clandestine look of hope in the Italian's face ― he nearly missed it, had it not been for Norway suddenly deciding to speak for him.
"He wants to go on a date with you." he nonchalantly answered, a minutely amused look on him, before supplying in the end: "I would say no, though."
The Dane blushed too, turning to his fellow Nordic with a clearly exasperated face and very tempted to do something to the cynical blond.
However, he was stopped mid-thought when a terse snort from the redhead was heard.
"Tch, don't tell me what I should do." Romano off-handedly retorted, also not meeting the Dane's eyes in fear of his blush spreading any faster. "Bastards."
Needless to say, the Southern Italian should have been the slightest bit prepared for the onslaught of rather personal questions from France, when word got out about he and Denmark's outing.
Romano, much in his fashion, replied as he always did ― deny, deny, deny.