"Bastard, you look ridiculous."

Romano glared in slight disgust at his brother, Italy Veneziano as the ditzy boy slipped on the fluffy rabbit ears and tail. He giggled.

"Aren't they adorable, fratello? Ms. Hungary let me borrow them for the special occasion!" He smiled, and adjusted them so they were on correctly.

Romano took a bite of the tomato he was eating and scowled. Apparently, there was a party going on at America's in celebration of Easter. Italy had asked him if he was going to go, and of course he refused. No way in hell was he going to come lame-ass party just because his fratello asked him to. No way in hell.

He knew, of course that he would probably end up being dragged anyway. But he had rights, dammit, he could at least try to fight!

Anyway, Romano stood up from the bench they were sitting on and threw the rest of the unfinished tomato away in a nearby trash can, and turned back to Feli. "Come on, we should be getting home," He reached a hand out to help him up. "And for God's sake, take those off, dammit," He added, looking at his brother distastefully. Said Feli frowned.

"But fratello…they're so cute! See?" He said, wiggling them and grinning. Romano almost groaned in disgust. He growled and grabbed the ears, throwing them somewhere behind him. North Italy gasped. "Fratello! How could you!" He whined, running back and picking them up out of a small mud puddle. Tears sprang to the younger brother's eyes. Romano rolled his and kept walking.

"You can just wash them, you know," He said, not looking back. His brother sniffled again and followed, continuing his ramblings about the party.

~=====OOO=====~

Turns out, Romano did end up being dragged; He fought, of course, but his brother's heart-broken pout face was too much to bear, he couldn't say no.

Italy smiled as he pulled his brother into the driveway of the obnoxious American. Music could be heard from the inside, loud and upbeat. The full moon shone overhead. "Veee~ We're here! Finally…" The exited man said, ringing the doorbell. Romano scowled.

"I'm not here willingly. Remember that." He glared at Italy. Suddenly, the door was being yanked open, and the tall, grinning American was in the doorway. The music got louder upon it opening.

"Hey, dudes! Glad you could make it!" He called, stepping to the side and gesturing for them to come in. The younger of the two Italies made gave an exited "Ve~!" and pulled his brother inside the large building.

It was chaos.

All of the countries were there, England, France, China, (Russia wasn't invited), Hungary, Austria, Spain, Belgium, The Nordics, the Baltics, and that Canadian kid (Romano couldn't recall his name), and, he noticed with disgust, Germany.

Speaking of the bastard, he immediately walked calmly over as soon as we entered, and greeted Feli. Oh course, he gushed like a fucking whore at the potato, smiling and hugging him tightly. And oh Dio, he fucking kissed his cheek, the humanity.

"Ve~ Ciao, Germany! Look! I brought mio fratello with me!" He pointed to Romano, who was brought out of his thoughts to glare at the German nation venomously. Germany gave a weak wave at him before walking off with Feliciano, leaving the Southern Italian alone in the crowd. He looked around, glaring.

He considered just leaving, turning around, jacking the car and driving away, but something stopped him.

Where was the other potato bastard? The annoying, loud one who kept shouting how "Awesome" he was nowhere to be seen. He walked around the large house, searching every room, but he wasn't there.

Pfft, not like I care. The nation thought bitterly. Because he hated the bastard, didn't he? Of course he did. He was brothers with the macho potato. He walked into the living room to find America and France playing Dance Dance Revolution. America seemed to be getting tired and yet still managed to be in the lead. He was kicking the Frenchman's ass.

Other nations were cheering them on, such as Hungary, Spain, and that…what was his name again? Though his cheers were quiet and nobody really heard them. Romano paid no attention to them and sat on the couch, thinking about where he could be and why he even cared in the first place.

Normally, the Prussian would be the first one at a party or any social event, claiming that the "awesome has arrived" or something like that. It wasn't like him not to show up. He looked up and noticed Hungary sitting on the couch a few feet away from him, watching America kick France's ass at DDR.

Well. Wouldn't hurt to ask.

"Um, Hungary?" He said, trying to be polite to the woman in fear of being hit with a frying pan. The brunette looked at him, and smiled a little.

"Oh, hey! You're Feli's older brother, right? What is it?" She smiled. Nevertheless, Romano gulped quietly. Damn, she was still scary…

"Shouldn't that other potato bastard be here? The one you're always hitting with your pan?" He said. Hungary paused and looked at him blankly.

"He wasn't invited," She deadpanned, as if he should have expected it. Romano's eyes widened slightly.

"Why not?"

The brunette chuckled. "I don't know. Frankly, I think it's a good thing, the annoying brat would get on my nerves," She said, looking away from him. "Maybe America just doesn't like Prussia. I don't know." She gave a weak smile and turned her attention back to the TV again. Romano growled quietly. He stood up and looked around for his brother.

Can't believe I'm doing this… He thought. He felt sort of bad for the albino. I mean, he was almost always alone, and then a giant party is thrown and he's not even invited? It was just…mean. He finally located his brother in the kitchen with Germany. That bastard. They were drinking beer, he noticed with disgust. We walked over to them.

"Oi, fratello!" He called, entering the large kitchen. Feli lowered his mug, looking at Romano. He smiled.

"Ve~ ciao, fratello! Are you having fun?" Romano scowled.

"Not at all, dammit. I'm leaving," He said quietly, scooping the keys up from the table. How did their keys get there? Dammit.

Italy's smile quickly fell. "But…but…we just got here!" He said. Germany watched, still chugging his beer. Romano tried to ignore him.

"I know. But I gotta go do some, uh…errands." He lied through his teeth. North Italy still frowned.

"But…how will I get home? We only have one car…" Germany perked up a little. Dammit, he was gonna speak. Romano hated his voice. It was so…burly-sounding. And that damn accent was sickening. Seriously. It made him want to gag.

"I can drive you home, Italia," He said, finishing his beer. He set the mug down and gave a small smile to the younger brother. Romano swore the smile that broke out on his face could have torn it in two.

"Vee~! Really, Germany? Grazie!" He gushed, throwing his arms around his waist affectionately and grinning. The German blushed and uttered a "ja, ja" quietly. Romano rolled his eyes. This was just gross.

He grabbed the keys, gave a weak goodbye to Spain (Who was in deep conversation with England…Romano could have swore the Brit was blushing) and ran outside, starting the car and pulling out of the driveway.

He began driving home, moving slowly so he could peek out the window for the albino.

~=====OOO=====~

After about maybe 2 hours of searching all of town for Prussia, Romano was tired and frankly, very pissed off. Dammit, he didn't even give a shit about the Prussian. It should be his bastard brother looking for him. It's not like they were friends or anything.

He needed to cool off. He drove a little farther, into the outskirts of town and stopped, noticing the small park. He "parked" his car (Heh, get it?).

He sat on a nearby bench and looked up at the sky. The wind was blowing softly, the full moon illuminating the pavement. It was completely silent. Romano glared up at the stars.

What the hell was he even doing? Dammit, that idiot was probably at home, throwing his own party with just him and that damn bird of his. Romano almost laughed at the image of him and his bird doing the tango.

…How would that even…?

"What was his bird's name again…?" He murmured to himself. It wasn't…Gilly…Gulash? No, that just sounded stupid.

"Gilbird," A voice behind him called. Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh GOD.

Startled, the Italian fell out of his seat and whipped around, ready to cuss them into Oblivion, but he stopped.

It was Prussia.

He looked quite tired. He had bags under his eyes and his hair was ruffled. He laughed when Romano fell over.

"Wha? What- How did you...bastard!" Romano sputtered, standing up and dusting himself off. Prussia grinned that obnoxious grin of his.

"Well hey, princess!" He laughed, plopping down on the bench. The Italian nation glared at him.

"You look like shit." He mumbled. The albino chuckled, and brought a hand up to his hair and rubbed his tired eyes.

"Yeah, I know. I couldn't sleep to well, so I decided to take a walk, you know? Awesome needs fresh air." He said, striking a mini-victory pose. He looked at Roma in confusion. "anyway, princess, what brings you here, anyway?"

"Looking for you, dammit!" He yelled, taking a step back. The albino's smile vanished.

"I thought you were at the party? Why the hell were you looking for me?" Romano growled.

"Because! Dammit, everybody was there except you! And I ask that scary lady where you were, and she said you weren't invited!" He punched him in the chest. "Why the hellweren't you invited?"

The ex-nation smirked. "Why? Did little Roma miss me?" He taunted, poking his cheeks. Romano slapped his hand away.

"No, dammit! Ew! I-I was just…wondering…" He trailed off, blushing slightly. It was the truth, he thought.

Prussia's smile turned sad. "That was a party for nations," He said quietly. Romano looked confused.

"Dammit, I know that! So why weren't you there?" Prussia sighed and grinned a little.

"You don't get it, princess?" He said. Romano scowled. Dammit, the bastard was playing mind games…

"Do I look like I fucking get it? Dammit, stop being confusing!" He punched his chest again angrily. The German winced.

"Owww…you're gonna give me a bruise…"

"Do I look like I care?!"

"Good point." He sighed. "Anyway…that was a nation's party, Roma." He said, standing up and stretching. "And I'm not a nation anymore."

"…" A tense silence followed in which Romano didn't reply. Of course. He was such a dumbass.

But he was still confused. Why not invite Prussia just because he wasn't a nation anymore? Sure, he was loud, annoying, arrogant, and stupid, but he didn't deserve to be alone like this.

"And," Prussia added, turning back to the Italian and grinning, "I don't think America likes me too much. Communists, you know." Romano gave a stiff nod.

"So you're just…alone?" He said uncertainly, standing up from the bench. Dammit, that thing was not comfortable. The former nation didn't look fazed.

"Yep! I'm too awesome for that lame party anyway!" He cackled. Romano rolled his eyes.

"W-well…you have to get them back somehow, dammit!" He could really use a tomato right now. "I mean, if it were me, I'd get those bastards back for being…well. Bastards!" He growled. "You gotta do something! Get off your lazy ass and move!"

Prussia stared at him. "I'm standing. Not on my "lazy ass", princess," He said blankly. Romano was silent.

"…Shut the hell up, bastard."

And then they went back and crashed the party together.