Author's Note: Sorry! I'd actually meant to get this part out a bit sooner, but you know how the holidays can be. Please enjoy and review!
***
"Germany!" Veneziano gasped as the blonde pressed a precise line of kisses down Veneziano's neck. He slid his hands through Germany's unusually messy hair, succeeding in making it more messy than before. Germany blinked the loose strands out of his eyes and stared down at Veneziano, eyes hazy with a primal lust.
"Veneziano," he sighed, sounding utterly content. He leaned back into the inviting crook of Veneziano's neck, enjoying this chance to take things slow and exploring every inch of Veneziano's body, finding the places that would make him moan, sigh, gasp ---
SPLAT.
Germany jerked away from Veneziano's body. Splat was not a Veneziano sound. Well. Not in bed, at least.
Something cold seeped into his side, where his body touched the mattress. He looked over. The shredded remains of a popped balloon sat innocently on the edge of the bed, a growing spread of water and ice in the middle. What the...
Veneziano started to wriggle, complaining loudly that it was cold and wet and unpleasant.
SPLAT.
This one landed in the middle of Germany's back with a sharp sting that spoke of more ice.
Prussia. This screamed of Prussia.
"Ve~" Veneziano whined. "Why is your brother attacking us? He's supposed to be with Romano! You don't think he left Romano somewhere, do you?" Veneziano wriggled out from under Germany, racing for his cell phone. "I need to make sure Romano's alright!"
Germany suspected that once he'd figured out that he wouldn't be getting into Romano's pants, Prussia had dropped Romano off at the restaurant, probably with some half-formed idea about using him as an alibi.
Veneziano squealed as Romano picked up. "Look, Germany! Romano's talking! That means he's not in a ditch somewhere!" Veneziano frowned. "You're not in a ditch somewhere, are you?"
"No, I'm not in a ditch," Romano's voice said through the speakerphone. Germany was surprised at the pleasant, amused tone in Romano's voice. This might have been the first time he'd heard Romano happy, or at the very least not screaming at him for his choices in diet, or at Veneziano for his taste in men. "Seriously, Veneziano, where do you get these idiotic ideas? You saw me leave with Prussia. He'd protect me if someone tried to throw me in a ditch."
Germany frowned. The date seemed to be going well, more smoothly than he ever dared hope. It was suspicious.
"So you like Prussia?" Veneziano asked, sounding delighted.
"No!" Romano sputtered. "Of course not. Don't be stupid. I don't like him or anything."
Veneziano held the phone away from his mouth and beamed at Germany. "I think that means Romano likes him and won't admit it!"
Germany was pleased at the idea that his plan to set up the two nuisances might have worked, but not so pleased that he was prepared to forget the fact that he and Veneziano had just had their lovemaking interrupted by a pair of water balloons filled with ice water.
"Shut up, Veneziano! You don't know what you're talking about!" Romano fumed. "Now I'm going to hang up on you and get back to my -- my kind of awesome date."
Germany grabbed Veneziano's hand. This was his chance to prove whether or not Prussia was really with Romano. "Ask to speak to Prussia," Germany hissed.
"Wait, we want to hear from Prussia too!" Veneziano exclaimed obediently.
If Romano made up some lame excuse for Prussia's absence, that would be a sure sign that Prussia was the one throwing the balloons.
"Hey, Veneziano," Prussia said. "And West, I'm assuming, because there is no way the two of you aren't hanging out together. My question for you, though, is why aren't you guys doing it right now instead of talking to us?"
"We were!" Veneziano said enthusiastically.
"You what?" Romano demanded. "That's it. Prussia, take me home. Wait. Scratch that. Get us some to-go boxes and take me home."
"Damnit, West," Prussia said loudly. "You set me up with a cute Italy of my own so that you can get some Italy tail, and then what do you do? You screw things up so that neither of us get any!"
"I thought you said that my relations with Italy were making me soft and -- and I quote -- 'gooey'," Germany pointed out testily.
"That was before I had my own Italy to make relations with, if you know what I mean," Prussia said.
"That's it!" Romano yelled. "We're coming home right now. If you two are engaged in any -- any relations, I am chopping your potato balls off!"
The phone clicked off.
"Well, it'll take them at least twenty minutes to get back from the restaurant," Germany said, but Veneziano's eyes were brimming with tears.
"We ruined their date!" he wailed. "Now our brothers will never fall in love!"
Germany leaned forward to comfort Veneziano, wrapping his arms around the slighter boy, pressing his lips in a comforting kiss against Veneziano's forehead.
SPLAT.
* * *
Just out of earshot, hidden behind a line of trees, Prussia and Romano crouched by their cooler of ice and water balloons. "That was a good one," Prussia said, eating from the to-go boxes he and Romano had ordered before leaving the restaurant half an hour ago.
"Thanks," Romano said, peering through the trees to make sure he hadn't been seen on his dash back to their hiding spot.
"And this stuff isn't half bad either," Prussia said, slurping down a long noodle.
"Don't eat it all," Romano scolded. "You actually need leftovers to convince them that we were at the restaurant. The potato bastard is thorough. He'll check."
"How come my brother gets a cool nickname and I don't?" Prussia demanded. "If we're going to go forth with Stage Two of the plan, I demand a cute pet name too, and Potato Bastard's Brother doesn't count."
"Potato Bastard is not a pet name," Romano said, sounding disgusted with the idea. "It's an insult."
"Yeah, but it's his special insult," Prussia said. "I don't have my own special insult. Or pet name. I want one."
Romano frowned at Prussia. "Fine."
Prussia looked at him expectantly.
"What?" Romano snapped.
"My new special insult-pet name is?" Prussia prompted.
"W-well, it's not like I can just think of something right away!" Romano yelled. His face was slowly turning furiously pink color because the fact was, he usually did think of something right away and had in fact been trying out a variety of insults on Prussia all evening. It was usually easy to pick the one thing he hated the most about someone and create a food-based insult around that. Every time Romano found something to dislike about Prussia, the jerk had to go and turn it into something likable. He was arrogant, but it was kind of cute. He was loud, but he had some pretty good ideas. Even his awful potato and wurst diet wasn't that bad, because at the Italian restaurant, he'd asked Romano for suggestions and then he'd actually taken those suggestions and liked those suggestions, giving Romano a pleased, accomplished sort of butterfly feeling in his stomach.
Not that he liked Prussia or anything. That would be dumb.
"Alright," Prussia said, propping his feet up on a twisted stump. "I'm sure my awesomeness will inspire you eventually. Just let me know when you come up with something, and don't make it lame, like Wurst Breath or whatever."
Romano scowled. Why hadn't he thought of Wurst Breath?
"S-stop making yourself comfortable, Stupid Sausage," Romano said, standing up abruptly and brushing himself off in a what he hoped was a professional manner. "It's time we got back to the house, anyways, or Veneziano and the potato bastard will start getting suspicious."
Prussia stared. "Stupid Sausage? Is that really the best you can do?"
Romano was not blushing. He wasn't. "Of course not!" he said loudly. "Don't be dumb. It's all part of the pet n-- insulting process. Let's just get back to the house and put on Stage Two of Operation Potato Bastard Break Up."
"I thought it was called Operation No More Boring," Prussia said, slinging a casual arm around Romano's waist.
Romano stiffened and blushed, but reminded himself that it was all just a part of stage two. "Call it whatever you want. I don't care if your life is boring or not. I just want that potato bastard away from my brother. If that means we have to act like a couple to show those two just how dumb and annoying they are, then fine."
"In addition to all the other pranks we're going to play on them," Prussia corrected as they approached the house, to-go boxes in arm, cooler left behind for later retrieval. "You can't forget the pranks! Those are the most important part."
Romano slowly settled himself into Prussia's casual but possessive embrace. He knew Veneziano would probably be watching from the windows and their whole plan would fall to pieces if Veneziano or Germany thought that they were being anything less than sincere.
As soon as they got to the front porch, they stopped, standing there awkwardly for a long moment. Romano knew that even if Veneziano hadn't been watching before, he was now, and he would be expecting them to kiss. He and Prussia stood in silence, not quite looking at each other before Romano darted forward in a burst of movement, catching Prussia's lips with his own.
Prussia brushed Romano's cheek with one hand before pulling away, a triumphant smirk on the edges of his lips. "That was nice, püppchen," Prussia said.
"What did you just call me?" Romano demanded. "Did you just call me Puppy Chow?"
Prussia stared in confusion. "No. I called you püppchen," Prussia said.
"Well if I'm Puppy Chow, then you're -- then you're Dog Crap!" Romano yelled, storming inside the house.
"Püppchen means 'precious', idiot!" Prussia yelled.
Romano paused, cracking open the door suspiciously. "Does it really?"
Prussia wedged his foot in the door and managed to pry the door open. "No. What it really means is 'Shut up, Romano, and just let me inside for more awesome kissing instead of being a dork about this', but close enough, right?"
Romano would have protested that, but his back was suddenly pressed firmly against the wall and Prussia's lips were on his. His hands shot to Prussia's chest and pushed hard, but Prussia was stronger than him and had anticipated a struggle. Prussia didn't move at all, except for a movement in his chest that Romano was sure was a chuckle.
The kiss was...
Well, it wasn't a bad kiss. It wasn't a very good kiss either, since most good kisses involve two willing participants. It definitely wasn't bad, though. There were no tongues involved, just the slow, insistent movement of Prussia's lips on his. Almost against his will, Romano found himself relaxing into Prussia's touch.
Prussia's hand, feather light skated up Romano's side, going all the way up to end in an exploratory tug on Romano's hair curl. Romano squeaked in surprise. Later, he would flat out deny that the noise had come from him, but at that moment, his mouth was otherwise occupied and he just had to deal with Prussia's amused smirk pressing against his lips.
Romano wasn't sure what exactly happened next, but suddenly his right leg was in Prussia's hands, being pulled up. The position was strange and a bit uncomfortable but Romano was too hyper-aware of the feeling of Prussia's hand on his thigh and wasn't really paying attention to the way Prussia hooked Romano's leg around his waist.
"Come on, where's your bedroom?" Prussia mumbled, pulling away just enough so that he could speak coherently. Well. Mostly coherently. There was a husky edge to his voice that made him a bit hard to understand.
"It's right over there," Romano said, jerking his head in the direction of the bedroom.
Prussia turned in the direction Romano had indicated, his eyes all battlefield strategy, focusing on the open door with a haphazardly made bed just inside. "There?" he asked.
"Why?" Romano demanded suspiciously, a bit too late.
Prussia grinned. He already had Romano's right leg around his waist. He pulled the left one up to join it, so that he could carry Romano to the bedroom. It would be awkward, but effective and a hell of a lot easier than actually convincing the stubborn Italian to go to the bedroom of his own free will.
"Hell no," Romano said as soon as he realized what Prussia was doing. He instantly tried to pull his right leg back down to the ground. With one of Romano's legs in the air being pulled down and the other leg on the ground being pulled up, it would have been a miracle if they hadn't fallen. As it was, their fall was less painful than it could have been, but it was definitely messy. Knees knocked together, elbows ended up in awkward places and Romano's lips were mashed painfully on the jutting angle of Prussia's collarbone.
"So you had a nice date then?" Veneziano asked. Romano's head shot around to see his brother standing with one hand on the door frame, hovering curiously. Germany stood behind him, trying to look inconspicuous and only succeeding in looking tall.
"What do you think?" Romano snapped, distracted by trying to figure out how he'd ended up with Prussia on top of him even though he was pretty sure he'd been the one to fall on top of Prussia.
"It's love, Germany!" Veneziano squealed excitedly, turning to hug the taller man.
"It's our brothers making out," Germany corrected. "Prussia, honestly, is this really the time for your antics?"
Romano felt one of Prussia's hands disappear from where it was entwined with Romano's own. A quick glance up showed that Prussia was flipping off Germany even as his lips crashed back towards Romano's. This kiss was brief, however. Prussia pulled away quickly, rising to his feet. Romano moved to do the same and made it all the way to propping himself up on his elbows before Prussia grabbed him around the waist and casually threw him over his shoulder. "This is much easier," Prussia said, decisively making his way to the bedroom.
Romano's first reaction was to notice that his face was level with Prussia's ass. His second was to start yelling obscenities.
"Prussia," Germany said reprovingly. "This is hardly proper conduct. Put him down."
"It's Romano," Prussia said with an eyeroll, speaking with more experience than one would expect from less than an hour or two of actual contact with the Italian. "This is his way of saying he likes me."
Veneziano's "ve~" sounded vaguely affirmative, so Germany just sat back and watched, dumbstruck as Prussia carried Romano into the bedroom.