Xenoblade Main Theme, Kuon No Kawa
You guys know I can't do a thing with one Itabro without bringing in the other :D
Chinese Cigarettes
Hung Out to Dry
Something's changed.
Something's different.
Something, he's afraid to admit it, might be wrong.
"Romano?" Something might be wrong and the first one to notice it is Veneziano the next morning, which doesn't surprise him, but it makes things difficult. "Romano are you alright? You don't look well."
He doesn't feel well either, because as he sits down next to his younger brother at the meeting room table, South Italy feels like he should be hung-over. His body is sore, especially his arms that were pulled back behind him for so long last night that he almost lost all feeling in them. His head feels empty because he wasn't given any chance to relax or regroup in China's clutches, and although his body is still whimpering half-remembered things of staggering ecstasy and guilty fragments of affection, there are bruises under his clothes that Romano isn't used to wearing.
Something last night in China's room dragged him over the line of stress and lust and into possession and domination. He knew that this was a dangerous dance to get into with a super-power nation, but last night China showed him just a handful of the reasons why. Romano isn't under any illusions any more, every time he's been the one pushing China down and controlling him, it's only been because the stronger nation has let him get away with it.
The distinction between what Romano allowed and what was simply done is blurry and a little bruised in his head right now. Last night wasn't a mighty unveiling of kinks and strange tastes, it was just overwhelming and harsh.
"Italy, pay attention!" Germany's voice is a fog-horn across the table, and South Italy is so fatigued he doesn't even snap back for the blond to bite his fucking tongue because this meeting is only ten minutes old.
"We are! You're just being mean!" So Veneziano blurts out a response instead, which earns a gasp from the peanut gallery that is France and Spain. This morning only the Europeans are meeting together, but in about forty minutes America is scheduled to make a dramatic appearance from the Asian conference a few rooms down the hall: because he's America, and that's how he likes to run things when he's hosting.
"I'm fine…" His voice feels rough in his throat and the sound makes Veneziano look at him with an I-know-you're-lying glint in his eyes. He feels his Italian slipping into something less than the standard breed their government operates in, but it doesn't get in the way of his brother's understanding: "We'll talk after."
And he means that. If he was his own nation completely cut off from everyone else then he wouldn't have to talk about it, and no one would have to listen, but he's half of a whole and sometimes they just need to communicate with each other. When Romano reaches half-way between them with one hand, Veneziano quickly meets him and they let their fingers weave together, holding on like that until they both need to take notes on something Austria says about the numbers flashing on the projector screen.
The meeting is dull but not awful, and America's entrance is obnoxious but not all together a waste of time. When lunch is called Romano sticks close to his brother's side, the two of them hurrying out of the building and into a taxi that will carry them somewhere far from the rest of the delegates. It's not too hard to guess where exactly they're headed however: when the Italy Brothers are in New York, they always eventually manage to find their way into the Bronx.
There are enough flavours of Italian in the world that the two of them can pick and choose whether to allow the population around them pick up on what they're saying: they both know and speak each other's dialects, and they still remember Vulgar Latin from Grandpa Rome's day, nevermind the scholastic Latin from Grandpa's fall until the modern age.
Sometimes it's fun to speak in simple, standard Italian and watch older Italian-Americans stare and smile and sometimes work up the courage to speak to them in restaurants or coffee shops. Other times, like right now, they're barely in the restaurant door before Veneziano paves the way with Vulgar Latin and asks him what in God's name is wrong. Romano only waits until they're seated before reluctantly giving his answer:
"I think I made China mad…"
"I told you so!" Yeah, yeah, yeah… "I knew this would happen! I told you so in the beginning, didn't I?" He did, fine: fuck him his stupid brother was right.
The brief silence that falls over them when the waitress arrives for their orders distracts Veneziano from his bought of superiority. The trouble they're in rears its head when instead of vowing to defend himself, Romano takes the blame and just keeps his arms folded on the table, eyes occasionally glancing out the window when it doesn't hurt him to look away.
"You didn't… have to agree so easily…" Now his brother sounds worried again, and when Romano doesn't answer right away he hears Veneziano scooting his chair around so instead of sitting across the round table from each other, their elbows are nearly touching. "Romano?"
"It's not political, at least I don't think so." China didn't say anything last night to that effect, but Romano is still running on almost no sleep. "But I know I pissed him the fuck off…"
"What did you do?"
"I broke it off-" Well… "I tried to break it off."
Veneziano's response is silence, and Romano handles that silence by just taking a deep breath and sitting up properly in his chair. Others might expect his brother to take bad personal news the way he handles bad political news: by flying into a panic and running screaming from the room to find Germany. Romano knows him better than that.
"What do you want me to do?" Romano knows how his brother's head works, and there's no way for uninvolved Nations to help sort out a personal issue. It has to be handled internally, so that's what they're doing with his brother sitting there with his long fingers laced together on the table, pursing his pink lips and golden brown eyes watching carefully as Romano answers him.
"Just be aware of what's happening. As long as it stays personal then you shouldn't be affected."
Veneziano opens his mouth, reconsiders whatever he almost blurts out, and then says something else:
"What are you going to do?"
"Try and figure out how upset he actually is, or if last night was just a once-off." He almost doesn't add that last part, but it has to be said and Veneziano's white knuckles and clenched jaw will just have to calm down and deal with it.
"Usually when it's at a conference you still come back to our room afterwards." That has got to be the closest Veneziano has ever come to actually talking about what happens between Romano and China, but the patches of green forcing their way onto his cheeks mean it's a blessing when their food arrives and gives them both a reason to shut up and drop the issue. They've discussed what's happening, and Romano understands that he has Veneziano watching his back in case anything goes wrong.
This means that the only thing Romano has left to worry about today… is the Global Conference meeting with China tonight…
Sorry to skip over the sex, but we needed an Itabros chapter. I'm tired of too many fics where something happens with one of them and the other isn't so much as mentioned…
If you read it, please review it!