"It'll be fun!"
Romano groaned. That's what Veneziano always said about everything. Let's go swimming! Let's adopt a dog! Let's go on a tour around Europe! Everything Veneziano promised to be fun… never was.
"No way."
"Lovi~" Romano's glare intensified. How dare Veneziano use that name to try and convince him? "It's just a double date! You don't even have to invite Spain yourself, even though I think you should. I'll invite him! Please, Lovi? I don't want to go alone and who else can I ask? Please?"
"No." Romano was not giving in. Not this time. And there had been so many things wrong with that statement that he didn't even know where to start.
Veneziano pouted, crossing his arms. "Fine! I'll just have to ask Prussia for help. He'd be willing to go on a double date with me and Germany. Or maybe big brother France? He's always willing to help and, well, I know he's not really my brother, but, since you don't want to help me, that's fine. They'll definitely be willing."
Now Romano was looking stricken as he slowly turned towards Veneziano. His brother was currently combining that pout with those damn puppy-dog eyes. It wasn't fair. "Fine! I'll help! No need to call those two perverts in."
Veneziano let out a squeal of delight and threw himself at Romano. "Yay! Thanks so much! Meet at my house on Friday around noon. I'll call Spain and invite him for you!"
Romano nodded absently and pulled away from Veneziano who let out an excited "See you then, ciao!" before running off.
It wasn't until Veneziano had bounced away that Romano realized that he just agreed to go on a double date with Veneziano, that potato-bastard, and… Spain.
Friday came around much too soon for Romano's tastes. He'd tried to get out of the double-date countless times, even going as far as purchasing a plane ticket to America so as to get out of the country, but Veneziano was always right there, thwarting his every escape. Whoever said that his brother was horrible at strategic maneuvers had never tried to really escape from his clutches.
"This fucking sucks," Romano grumbled, kicking a rock vehemently outside Veneziano's house. There were so many better ways to spend a Friday than being forced on a date with that guy. And since Veneziano was the one putting the date together, who knew what they were going to do? It was probably going to be something stupid like going on a picnic in the park, or feeding the ducks or something. Sighing, he gave one last violent kick before stepping up the stairs to his doom. With any luck, they wouldn't show up and he'd be off the hook.
"Romano!" He had just enough time to think 'or maybe not' before he was gathered into a hug from his brother, Spain and Germany both perfectly visible behind him. "Thanks for showing up! I'm glad you decided that your trip to America could be put off for a week~"
Romano glared and pushed his brother away. "Let me go."
"Aw, Romano, don't be so mean," Spain tutted, coming over and giving him a hug while Veneziano quickly rebounded and attached himself to Germany's arm.
"Who said you could touch me, bastard!" Romano yelled, pulling out of Spain's embrace.
Spain simply laughed and grabbed Romano's hand. "We're on a date, Romano."
Romano's glare intensified. How dare he say it like it made all the sense in the world? "Let. Go."
"Are you guys ready?" Veneziano asked, using his perfect sense of timing to diffuse what was fast becoming a potentially violent situation.
"Er, Italy—" Germany started, but was interrupted by a growl from Romano.
"Veneziano. We're both Italy. Or have you forgotten that fact with your potato-addled mind?"
Spain looked down at his hand in alarm as Romano's grip tightened.
"Right, sorry. Veneziano. What are we going to do, exactly?"
"We're going to the grocery store!" Veneziano shouted, grinning widely. Spain matched his grin beam-for-beam, but both Romano and Germany sent him strange looks.
"Why?"
"I'll tell you when we get there. It's going to be so much fun! Let's go!" And with that, Veneziano was out the door, pulling Germany along with him. Spain began following, with Romano reluctantly joining behind, grumbling darkly under his breath. A picnic in the park would be heaven right now.
They made an odd picture as they entered the store. Veneziano was leading the way, looking for all the world like he had just entered the best amusement park known to man. The others followed behind him, each in his own stage of excitement, or lack thereof.
"Veneziano. What are we doing here?" Romano asked, once again trying in vain to pull his hand out of Spain's grasp.
"We're going to have a race! It'll be fun!"
"No," Germany stated, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "We are not having a race in a store. It is not proper to run—"
"Germany, I didn't even explain! We're not going to run, silly. Just have a competition! The winner gets to make dinner."
"Why? Why would we compete to see who makes dinner?" Romano really should have found another escape plan. There was no way he was going to run around a store in the hopes of not having that potato-bastard cook. No way.
"Because it's fun," Veneziano told him in an uncharacteristically stern voice. "Now, each couple—"
"Me and Spain are not a couple!" Romano choked.
"Romano, you're turning red, almost like a tomato. It's so cute~" Spain butted in, moving closer to Romano to give him a hug. "Of course we're a couple. We're on a date, aren't we?"
"But—"
"Each couple," Veneziano cut in, an odd smile on his face, "will have a cart. We have twenty minutes to find, and place, ten items in the cart and meet back here. After that, we switch carts and put back everything. The couple to empty their cart first wins and gets to make dinner."
"That is a stupid idea!" Romano shouted at the same time Spain exclaimed, "That's a wonderful idea!"
Germany said not a word. Really, what had he expected from Veneziano? He should have been more forceful in trying to help plan the date. At any rate, it could have been worse. There was an opportunity for a decent meal at the end of it all, and that is something that is supposed to happen on a date, or so he'd read, anyway.
"Ready?" Veneziano asked, poised and ready to go, his cart just waiting to be filled.
Romano grumbled, "No," while Spain nodded and rolled a cart over.
"Go!" Veneziano exclaimed, veering off to the right with Germany following behind, heaving a sigh.
That left Spain and Romano together with an empty cart and a huge store.
"Should we start, then, Romano?" Spain asked cheerfully, taking the cart and heading left, away from Veneziano and Germany.
"This is a stupid idea," Romano muttered. How had Veneziano even thought of such an absurd idea? "We have to win, though."
Spain raised an eyebrow, forgetting the fact that Romano was behind him and thus couldn't see. "Why?"
"There's no way we can let that potato-bastard cook. He'd probably poison it all with those disgusting potatoes he calls food. It's just not right!" Romano shuddered just thinking of the kind of food Germany would probably serve. "No, we can't let them win. We have to choose impossible to find food to put in the cart. It's the only way."
Spain took a turn down one aisle. "Of course, Romano. We'll do our best to win, together." He turned back to look at Romano, his smile as bright as ever. Romano's eyes widened and he turned away, willing to blush to disappear. Why did Spain have to smile at him like that? "What about saffron?"
Romano blinked in confusion. "What?"
"To put in the cart. What about saffron? A spice would be hard to locate and put back in a timely manner because of how small they are and how much they look like each other."
Shrugging, Romano grabbed a container and threw it in the cart. "Fine. One down. Nine more to go."
Spain laughed, moving to ruffle Romano's hair. Romano, seeing the incoming hand, let out a manly squeal and evaded, moving to the other side of the cart. "Stop touching me! Let's just get the rest of the items and get this damn date over with."
Spain sighed, dejected, as he continued pushing the cart. "You know, you are so not cute when you do that."
Romano's yell of "Bastard!" could be heard all over the store.
Twenty minutes later, Veneziano bounced in excitement while standing next to his cart. "We picked so many good things, Germany!"
Germany smiled and nodded, humoring him. Veneziano had been the one to throw everything into the cart while Germany, knowing what was to come later, memorized the layout of the store. Though, he still wasn't sure if he wanted to win or not. To win meant he'd have to make dinner, which meant that Veneziano would be cooking, which meant that he, Germany, would be left cleaning up and being constantly berated by Romano for 'contaminating the food.' And that, honestly, didn't sound like fun to him. He took a quick glance at Veneziano who was so obviously happy about the date, if it could really be called that, and sighed. He'd have to try to win, if only to make Veneziano happy.
"We're done~" a bright, cheery voice sang, and Germany turned to see Spain pushing his cart over, a smirking Romano behind him.
"And we are going to kick your ass," Romano added.
Germany sighed. He really should just let Romano win. It would make things so much easier in the long run.
"No way! Germany and I are sooooo going to win!" Veneziano yelled, re-attaching himself to Germany's arm. There went that plan.
"No way, idiot. Spain and me are much better than you and that potato-bastard could ever hope to be!" Romano grabbed Veneziano's cart and glared at Spain. "Let' s go. We can't let them win."
"Sure thing Lovi~"
"DON'T CALL ME THAT, ASSHOLE!"
"We've put back half of the stuff," Romano grumbled, picking up a loaf of bread and tossing it back in the cart.
"We're doing well, together," Spain smiled, placing his hand over Romano's on the handle.
"Don't. Touch. Me," Romano growled, pulling his hand away.
"Look, Germany! The tomatoes are over there. Let's go!"
Romano's head jerked up just in time to see Veneziano and Germany run by. Veneziano appeared to be sitting in the basket of the cart while Germany was pushing it, following Veneziano's directions.
There were only two items left in their cart.
"Dammit!" Romano shouted, giving his cart a violent push. How could those two idiots be in the lead? It was inconceivable. He would have to do something drastic… "Spain!"
"Yes, Romano?"
"We have to sabotage them!"
Spain's smile dropped. "Romano, that's cheating, isn't it?"
Rolling his eyes, Romano began pushing the cart, throwing a small jar of spices onto the shelf, ignoring that the shelf was full of cans, not jars.
"Only if we get caught."
As quickly as possible, Spain and Romano made it to where Germany and Veneziano were carefully putting back the tomatoes.
"Spain," Romano hissed. "Distract them."
"What are you going to do, Lovino?" Spain asked, his voice as loud as ever.
"Keep your voice down, idiot, and don't call me that. Don't worry about what I'm doing, just make sure they don't look behind them."
"Sure thing, Romano. Boss will do his best." Grinning widely, Spain made his way over to Germany and Veneziano. "Hi!"
"Hi Spain!" Veneziano chirped, moving the cart in his excitement as he was still sitting in the carriage. "Where's Romano?"
Romano was currently sneaking around to the back of the cart, his arms full of groceries to throw in. Spain made eye contact with him, grinned, then turned back to Veneziano and shrugged. "No idea!"
Germany placed the last tomato on the pile and began turning around. Romano made waving motions at Spain who, for once, actually took the hint and threw his arm over Germany's shoulder, forcing him to stay facing the tomatoes. "Aren't these tomatoes lovely? They're all red and ripe and I'm not trying to distract you from Romano. Tomatoes are great food, don't you think so? They're full of flavor and so versatile and—"
"Spain, shut up! Let's go. We have to put these—these monstrosities—," Romano held up a potato, "—away. Now, come on!"
Laughing, Spain removed his arm from Germany's shoulders, giving him a quick pat on the back. "It was nice chatting with you, Germany! We'll have to do it again sometime soon. Good luck!"
Veneziano waved as Spain and Romano walked off before leaning over to give Germany a quick hug. "Isn't this fun? Let's go put up the rest of the stuff! Then we can make pasta or something for dinner~"
Germany blushed and pulled himself out of Veneziano's hug. "Right, well, erm, how much do we have left?"
Once he saw the cart, Spain's odd behavior suddenly made sense. They'd gone from having one single item left, to having a cart full of bags, various vegetables, and one lone jar of pickles. Chances were high that they weren't going to win.
"Hahaha! We're done!" Romano shouted, throwing the last evil spud into the pile. Yes, he hadn't played fair. He'd thrown most of the items from his cart into Veneziano's, as well as a couple of extras he'd picked up along the way, but the facts were the facts. His—and Spain's—cart was empty before Veneziano's. No one had ever said how the carts needed to be emptied, only that they were.
"Yay~ Good job big brother!" Veneziano called, waving Germany to roll the cart over. "You and Spain get to make dinner tonight!"
The rest of the shopping trip went by quickly. Romano and Spain sort of worked together to gather ingredients for a meal, while Germany went around the store putting everything back in its rightful position with Veneziano tagging along. There was no more talk about the competition or what the rest of the day would bring. They were, after all, supposed to be on a double date, but only Veneziano seemed to know the plans.
Once they returned to Veneziano's home, Romano immediately went to the kitchen, leaving Spain to bring in the bags by himself.
"Do you require any help, Spain?" Germany asked, reaching out to take a bag.
Spain simply shook his head, grinning widely. "Nah, it's fine. Thank you, Germany."
"Good!" Veneziano chirped, grabbing Germany's arm. "Germany needs to come help me set up for the rest of the date. We need to move the couch outside!"
"Ok—what? Italy, we don't take furniture outside!"
"But, Germany~" Veneziano whined, pulling at his arm.
Spain chuckled and took that moment to join Romano in the kitchen. He knew that Veneziano and Germany would work it out in the end.
"Hello, Lovi~" Spain sang, placing the bags on the counter before moving over to give Romano a hug.
Groaning, Romano pushed Spain's arms off his shoulders, not even bothering to yell at him again for using his private name. "Stop. Touching. Me. Let's hurry up and get this over with. The quicker we eat, the sooner I can get away from you bastards."
"You love it. Don't lie, Lovi," Spain laughed, taking a chicken out of one bag.
"Asshole," Romano grumbled, grabbing the chicken from Spain's hands and bringing it over to the cutting board. He would take out his frustration on the chicken. Perhaps that would stop him from murdering everyone.
"Lovino," Spain said softly, causing Romano to jump. When had he gotten behind him?
"What?" Romano growled, turning around just in time to be the recipient of a quick peck on the cheek.
"Thanks for coming with me today. Have fun cooking the chicken."
Romano turned bright red and stabbed the chicken much harder than he needed to. But he said nothing.
"Finished." Spain stepped away from the counter where four plates full of carefully made food sat. "We did a good job, Lovi, it smells wonderful."
"Yeah, I guess you can't suck at everything," Romano muttered grabbing two of the plates. "Let's take these out to those two idiots then."
"Alright~" Spain sang, picking up the last two plates.
Carefully, Spain and Romano left the kitchen, stopping when they realized that some of the furniture in the living room was missing. "What happened to Veneziano's couch?" Romano asked, dumbfounded.
"Oh, he said something about getting Germany to take it outside before we made dinner. I wonder if that's where they are?"
"Why the hell would Veneziano want his furniture—"
"Spain! Big brother! Are you guys done with dinner?" Veneziano yelled, running into the room. He took one glance at the plates in their hands and, his questioned answered, gestured them outside. "Go on out. I'll get the drinks~ Germany is finishing setting up the projector."
"The… projector?" Romano repeated. "What's going on Veneziano?"
"Oh, we're watching a movie outside! It'll be really fun and romantic! Trust me~" And with that, Veneziano bounced into the kitchen, leaving Spain and Romano standing by the door.
"Well, let us go join Germany, then. It does sound like fun~" Spain said cheerfully, gently nudging Romano and heading out the door.
While Spain and Romano were cooking, Veneziano had kept Germany busy. They'd moved the couch into the backyard, as well as a table, and had set up a big screen. Next to the couch was a projector, one movie loaded and ready to play, another leaning against it innocently. On the couch, sitting closest to the projector was Germany, who was designated 'King of the Remote.' Next to him, of course, was Veneziano. Romano had tried to sit on the ground, away from everyone else, but one look from Veneziano, and he found himself sandwiched between his brother and Spain, who sat at the other end of the couch. Each Nation held a plate of food in their laps, and glasses of wine on the table.
"Alright, is everyone ready?" Veneziano asked, catching his plate of food before it started slipping.
"Yes."
"Sí."
"No."
"Aw, Lovi, don't be that way. It's so not cute!"
Romano glared. "One more word and I swear I'm leaving."
Spain sighed and Veneziano laughed, commanding Germany to start the movie.
"Eh-heh-heh…today at the wife-carrying convention, I achieved total victory."
Romano's fork paused mid-way to his mouth. Was that—was that Estonia?
"Veneziano, what in the world are we watching?"
Veneziano laughed, shoving a bite of pasta into his mouth. "Estonia's independent film! America said it was really good! And after, we're going to watch No Reservations."
"Let me guess, another recommendation from America?"
Veneziano nodded and took another bite of pasta.
Dinner finished around the same time Estonia's film ended. While Germany switched out the movies, Spain took the empty dishes back inside.
"Are you having fun, Lovino?" Veneziano asked quietly, leaning closer towards Romano.
"No."
Veneziano's face fell and Romano sighed, running his hand through his hair. "Argh, fine Feliciano. I guess it's not that bad. It could have been worse. Happy?"
"Yes!" Veneziano threw himself at Romano in an eerily familiar manner, giving his brother a tight hug.
"What are you doing with my date?"
Veneziano chuckled and moved away from Romano, making room for Germany to sit back down. "Nothing, Spain. Just giving him a hug~"
"Alright, then." Spain sat down next to Romano, and the opening scene began to play.
Not even ten minutes into the movie, Veneziano had maneuvered himself so that he was sitting in Germany's lap, pulling his arms around his waist. Romano rolled his eyes and tried to move even further away, but found himself being grabbed by Spain.
"Relax, Lovi," Spain said quietly, urging Romano to lean against him more.
Romano sighed. Why fight it? "Whatever, Antonio," he growled, adjusting so that he was comfortably leaning on Spain. "Just be quiet and watch the movie."
By the end of the film, the two couples were fast asleep. Each with some sort of smile, and Veneziano? Well, he fell asleep feeling that the date had been a success and would lead to many more in the future.