Rivalry

Part 15

He hoped that fucking bastard had a bruise the size of Russia after that. Fucking bastard trying to hit on him… Stupid Feli making him wear a skirt. Why did he have to be the waitress? Why not the stupid potato bastard?

…That mental image was going to give him nightmares for the rest of his life.

Okay, so why not Feli?

Because he'd probably do something stupid and give the whole plan away…

Fuck.

And things just got better and better. Because he walked over to the next table, still fuming, and was halfway through the question of "What do you want, idiot?" when he realized that he was looking down at a very startled…and very very lecherous-looking Spain.

Shi—

And he was suddenly pulled down into the booth, his mouth crushed by Spain's, his notebook falling onto the table, the pen bouncing onto the floor.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He should probably be pissed about this, but it was hard to think clearly about that when Spain had him pulled down onto his lap, his hands a whirlwind on his body, his tongue halfway down his throat.

Damn, if this was what happened when Spain saw him cross-dressing, maybe he should do it more often.

He did not just think that.

"Ah, Spagna!" He hurriedly broke away once he'd managed to mentally process the fact that they were in the middle of a restaurant. A gourmet restaurant. With the potato bastard sitting only a few tables away and Prussia, England, America, and France (particularly France) sitting close enough to see the table without much trouble.

He hurriedly glanced over at those two tables. Thankfully America and France were in the middle of some conversation and hadn't noticed and Prussia and England were also conversing too intimately for anyone to notice the impromptu make-out session.

"Lovi~" he whined back, his fingers sliding along his back and down to press him farther into his lap. Then his mouth was right near his ear, tickling his skin. "May I ask what my lovely little Lovi is doing here dressed like this?"

He couldn't really remember what he was doing here… All he could really concentrate on was the fact that Spain's voice was much lower and huskier and assertive than he was used to hearing and it was sending shivers down his back.

"Ah…nothing…" He attempted to pull himself backwards, but found that way effectively cut off by Spain's arms tightening around his waist.

"Nothing~?"

"Look…" He leaned closer, their chests almost brushing as he hurriedly whispered, "Obviously I don't want anybody to recognize me, bastard, so don't ruin this whole thing for me, okay?"

"Why? What are you doing?"

"I—" He blushed slightly, glancing over at the others quickly. "I overheard you guys talking and Feli decided that he wanted to help, but I said that there was no way we were helping you idiots so we decided on our own plan."

Spain grinned. "Ah, Lovi wants to help with the matchmaking? How cute~" He slowly retracted his arms, his smile widening as he eyed the younger male appreciatively. "All right, I won't tell on you. Just as long as you promise to wear that outfit home tonight."

Romano immediately blushed even brighter. "Pervert."

He just grinned back unapologetically and picked his menu up from where it had fallen onto the floor. "Mm, so…why don't you just pick something for me? I'm sure the pretty little waitress knows what I like."

He blushed again, brushing at a strand of hair that had fallen into place and shivering slightly as he felt something rub against the curl again.

You have a plan, Lovino. You cannot grab Spagna and drag him into the storage closet, no matter how much you want to.

Not that he wanted to…

Okay, yes, he wanted to. He'd admit that one.

"Sure, whatever." He picked up the menu and then spun around, catching the potato bastard watching him. Who apparently had seen the entire thing, as he flushed about five shades of red when their eyes met.

Romano immediately responded by flashing him a look that plainly read 'say anything and I'll kill you', then headed back to the kitchen.

Where he was greeted with an armful of Feli.

Veneciano was really lucky that he was used to his exuberant greetings. Any normal person would have dropped him. "Nii-chan! Nii-chan! We've been having a pasta lesson!"

A what?

He stood there for a moment, ignoring his brother's bouncing and giggling about something or other. Instead, he glanced around to see that all of the cooks, assistants, and most of the servers were standing in front of various stoves facing one central stove upon which a pot of pasta was boiling.

You had to be kidding…

"Ve~ okay! Now we get to move on to how to make Alfredo sauce!" Veneciano skipped back to the central station, grinning brightly at all of his 'pupils' before he began to chirp out instructions. Immediately twenty humans began to follow, their movements mirroring him in extreme reverence.

"Feliciano! You can't just have everybody in the kitchen making the same thing! I just got all of these orders!" He flipped through the notebook, revealing the pages of orders. Okay, so technically he'd only gotten five tables of orders, but he'd had to work hard for those five tables… Plus he'd gotten hit on by a French pervert at one and jumped at another.

"Ve~ but Lovino~ I couldn't just refuse to teach them. It's important that they learn the best way to make Fettuccine Alfredo if they want to make their customers happy." He frowned slightly, staring at his pupils, and then beamed again. "Ve~ I know! Just give everybody Fettuccine Alfredo!~ It's a yummy pasta!"

Surprisingly, none of the humans argued. What in the world had Feli done to them? They were watching him as if he were some kind of pasta god.

Romano sighed in irritation. But then again, he didn't care if people actually got what they ordered… "Fine. Whatever. Just hurry up and make it so I can get back out there. Oh, except…" He hesitated and then motioned toward one of the younger humans, who moved over rather reluctantly, eyeing him as if he were afraid that he was going to hit him or something.

"Look," and he flushed slightly as he shifted his weight nervously between his feet. "Um…Where do you keep the tomatoes?"

A/N: Haha ;D Spagna…

So, I could not put Lovi into a skirt without having Spain react… And of course he'd recognize his Lovi no matter what he wore xD

And Feli is the God of Pasta…You know it's true.

In other news, I have a bit of a dilemma. As last night I had an absolutely marvelous Spamano dream (Seriously, what's with me having dreams about fictional characters? I can't remember the last time I had a normal dream) and then spent a lot of today writing down as much as I could remember in outline form.

My problem is that I now really really want to write it. But…it'd be long…and I'm already working on 2 multi-chapter fics. *sighs* I hate having more than 2 projects at a time, as I tend to start updating one faster than the others… (Part of why Tomatita's taking a while to update…although it has more to do with the fact that I'm attempting to figure out how to write certain characters that I haven't written before to put in the new chapter…)

So, my question is…would you prefer that I just focus on Rivalry and Tomatita (and the PruCan one once Rivalry is done) and wait until I finish 2 of them so I stay with 2 at a time OR would you not mind if I work on 3 and you may just have more sporadic updating? It's a different genre from the others too, less comedy and more adventure/romance (although there is still comedy, especially in the first scene, lol). Ummm, and it's Spamano…

Anyway, tell me what you think and then I'll think more about it.

Love you guys :D