Okay, this one was written for a prompt on tumblr, but I consider it to fit vaguely with the overarching theme!
"I swear, it feels like I'm in England during a football tournament," Romano muttered under his breath as he was nearly hit in the face by another George cross being brandished by a tall gentleman dressed in silver armour. He scowled at the soft stir of breeze that it caused and reached up to touch his fringe. "My hair had better not be messed up, Spain!" He huffed, turning to Spain with a scowl.
Spain smiled at him, mouth moving with words that were stolen away by deafening boom of another firework exploding above them.
"What?" Romano shouted back, ears ringing. When Spain spoke again, his mouth moved to the sound of a tolling bell. "Forget it!" Romano spat, shaking his head.
They were in Alcoy for the Romano-had-long-since-stopped-counting time, attending the annual celebration of the festival of Moors and Christians. It was an animated, colourful and noisy affair in a way that was so typical of Spain. Too fucking noisy for Romano's tastes, but Spain wasn't exactly one would call a firm believer in the sanctity of silence.
Every year Spain would spin some bullshit or other about celebrating in a major part of his culture. Every year Romano would scoff and tell him that all he really wanted to do was have an excuse to get drunk and dance around in the streets yell-singing. Every year Spain would deny it and point out that that he didn't need excuses to do that.
As usual, Romano had conceded that point. He didn't understand why Spain was still so excited about celebrating victory over the Moors though. It had been a fair few hundred years. Romano really thought that Spain should have tried getting over it by now. Still, he thought as a group of particularly pretty girls dressed in historical Middle Eastern robes danced past him, the festival was not without its perks.
A hand on his arm distracted him from his very casual Italian appreciation of feminine charms. He turned reluctantly back to Spain, frowning in question.
Spain inclined his head, lifting his hand in an imitation of drinking. Romano nodded, following him through the crowd, people parting for them without thought, touched by the almost supernatural air around them without the slightest hint of realisation.
The bar Spain led them to was blissfully quieter, booms and bells dulled by whitened walls. Romano headed upstairs, procuring a table by the window. Finally able to hear himself think, he lifted an arm to the table, resting his chin on his hand as he watched the procession pass below him.
"You always liked to be above the crowds," Spain said as he slipped into the chair opposite. "I think it's because you've always been a pompous little prince at heart who likes to watch his minions scurry around for him."
Romano snorted at Spain's grin, taking the beer that was offered and taking a slug, cool amber soothing his parched throat. "If you're on about how I used to enjoy watching you scurry around on my behalf then yes, I enjoyed that and continue to do so."
"Mean!" Spain said, though he laughed around it.
They fell into quiet, both watching the parade beneath them and sipping their beers in the sort of quiet calm that falls on men who have no real concept of time in human terms. Spain broke it from time to time, of course, interjecting with redundant history lessons that he had told Romano of time after time.
"Hey," Romano said after another lull of silence. If Spain was surprised by Romano's breach of the comfortable silence between them he didn't seem it, tilting his head and smiling, attention caught. "How come you never take part?"
"Hmm? In what way?" Spain asked.
"With the parade? For all the years we've been doing this, I don't think I've ever seen you take part." Romano was surprised that the thought had never even occurred to him. He was even more surprised that Spain was taking his question seriously, sitting back and thinking, expression oddly sombre.
"Well…to tell the truth, it's because I'd have to take sides," he answered.
"Take sides? As in Moor or Christian?"
Spain nodded. "Exactly," he said.
Struck by the unobvious answer, Romano's brow creased in confusion. "But…it's a clear choice isn't it? The Christians won, and you're Catholic…technically…so just be a Christian?"
Spain smiled in response. It was a smile that Romano had only seen few times in all of his years with his former boss, as old as the hills and the rivers that shaped the land, and the history that had been lived upon it. "How could I choose one part of myself over the other?" He leant a bit closer then, voice softening. "People may come and they may go. They may flee from threat, or invade and conquer until there's almost nothing left. They can wound or heal, or change what they find for better or worse, but no matter who they are, or where they come from, they will all leave a piece of themselves. They become a part of the land and the history and the nation. You should know better than most, Romano."
Romano sat in stunned silence for a moment, the words resonating deep within him. His stomach tightened as he stared at the inhuman being sat across from him, his equal in responsibility and ordination.
He was on his feet a moment later, growling "Shut up," as he reached across and seized Spain by the shirt, dragging him forwards and up into an almost violent smash of lips.
"Nuh?" Spain managed once Romano had relented slightly, eyes wide with astonishment.
"You're fuckin' weird when you're serious like that. Stop it," Romano grunted, leaning in again to snatch another kiss.
He pulled away with a startled gasp when their faces lit up in pink and a boom smashed through the silence. Dropping Spain without a second thought, he pressed his face to the glass and shouted a few obscenities at the morons who had released a firework in a contained environment.
"Hey, Roma?" Spain interrupted, cheeks still stained pink.
"What?" Romano snapped, sitting back down and folding his arms.
Spain grinned, eyes alight with amusement. "I just saw fireworks."
It took Romano a few moments to understand, flushing bright red when the words had sunk in. "Shut up! Jesus, you're so damned sappy it makes me want to puke," he grumbled. "C'mon. Stop sitting there grinning like a moron and finish your beer, 'cause we're going out there and we're going to light some fireworks and with any luck, we'll set fire to a few fuckin' gardens along the way."
Spain threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, Roma," he grinned. "I'll happily spend the whole day with you, but I don't need fireworks to see fireworks when you're around."
Romano gagged in response.