Hello, everyone! Finally my fic account sees some action, aw yeah. Before I get into the story, some preliminary notes:

The main characters in this story are Romano and America, and they're also the main pairing. Eventually. Other Hetalia characters aren't really around. Since this takes place in a different world, I populated it with some OCs, but no worries, they're really not the stars.

There will be gratuitous swear words and general dirty language.

I have a dirty sense of humor, but otherwise, no sexy times. Expect some fluff and sappy shit when the dorks finally do get together, and maybe even a little fade to black... but nothing close to being explicit.

I don't have this story planned out, but there may be some sad things, and/or horrific things, just because my tastes go that way. I promise I'll try to keep it very light, if I do have it, and to add in specific warnings if the time comes!

It was yet another stupid world meeting that South Italy found himself in. Stupid potato bastard just now managed to calm everyone in the room down enough for the next person to give their presentation—though honestly, Romano felt that his brother's talk on pasta was far better than whatever bullshit they were actually presenting on.

And of course, who should the next presenter be, but America. While the blond prepared his slideshow, Romano could feel his… feelings for the (handsome) idiot flare up again, which he suppressed immediately. Romano had been having (and reflexively fighting off) these idiotic, ooey-gooey, cheesy feelings for America for so long now, he'd imagine that they would have just died away. But no; they were just as strong today as though he were a goddamn schoolgirl falling in love for the first time, which was really stupid, because shouldn't a two-thousand-year-old nation be better than that?

From the corner of his eye, Romano caught his brother smiling at him like an idiot and flashing him a thumbs-up. Veneziano was the only person who knew about Romano's crush, and he was dog determined to get his brother to hook up with America—even though Romano made it clear, time and time again, that he wasn't interested in doing so.

"Listen up, everyone!" America shouted, slamming his hands on the table, which caused every head in the room to turn to him. He nodded towards his slideshow, titled, 'How Cinnamon Will Save The World'. "I hope you're all hanging onto your socks, because I'm about to knock them right off!

"So, my scientists have been doing some research into cinnamon. Here's a picture of me taking the cinnamon challenge!" America advanced to the next slide, showing an image of his scrunched-up face surrounded by wisps of the brown powder. Romano could swear with a straight face that his idiocy was not endearing at all. "That wasn't for any experiments though, I just wanted to try it! Anyway, as it turns out, terrorists also love cinnamon! Who'da thought?

"I'm thinking we can lure them out of their hiding places with this new information!" He brought up the next slide, which had an image of a bowl with brown liquid in it, and another image of a brown cube. "We mix some cinnamon and water together—probably throw some sugar in there too—and let it sit out around where the terrorists are! They'll definitely come out within a day to have some, and then, bam! We got 'em right where we want 'em! We can have armed forces waiting nearby to capture them!

"Before then, though, we'll have figure out if we want to leave the bait as a liquid, or freeze it before we use it. A sweet cinnamon ice pop would probably be more appealing, but we do run the risk of having it melt away too soon… what do you guys think?"

America was grinning ear-to-ear and eager for replies, but he was only met with stunned silence. He appeared confused with the reaction, before his eyes lit up in realization. "Oh, but don't worry, you guys! My boss will be sure to give them a fair trial! Probably, maybe."

"So daft, as usual, America," England finally said, sipping some tea. "The topic for today is global warming, you know."

"Oh... Okay! Ending terrorism in the world should really be our top priority, but if you wanna stick with global warming..." America shuffled through his notes, obviously not actually reading from them. "So, studies have shown, that warm air is also attracted to cinnamon—"

"Fucking shit, America!" England shouted, getting to his feet and looking ready to jump over the table and throttle the other nation. Next to him, France flicked his hair back and started another monologue about how he was much more refined than the other two. In another moment, Russia started sneaking off somewhere with his pipe, Veneziano tried to bring the topic back to pasta, Switzerland waved his gun around and shouted threats, Germany looked ready to explode...

And Greece, as usual, was napping away. To Romano, this seemed like the best idea right now. So, he pulled a pillow out of his briefcase (as this was certainly not the first time he napped during a meeting), got comfortable, and then let himself be taken away by sweet, deep slumber...

Romano dreamed about America; he dreamed that America swept him off his feet and carried him off to some strange and distant land. It was just the two of them together in a dense forest, and everything looked bleak and gray.

America set Romano down, and then whispered in his ear, "We're going to bring happiness back." The proposition sent a shiver of pleasure up his spine. Soon they had peeled each others' clothing off, and then...

… Then they were going at it like rabbits. Holy shit did it feel good. Romano could really feel it in his shoulders, as they moved in time with the rhythm... actually, out of rhythm? And America was calling his name over and over, but it was starting to sound too casual...

"... Italy. South Italy. Hey, wake up." America was jostling Romano's shoulders—way too roughly.

Finally Romano opened his eyes, the bleak and gray forest giving way to… bleak and gray walls. The next thing he saw was America, looking down on him, and—"shit!" Romano bolted upright and scooted away a few feet. He looked down at his lap and—yes, he fucking knew it, of course he was tenting right now. He could hear America snort and felt his face flush like it was on fire.

Romano awkwardly tried to close his legs around the problem, and… and now America exploded into full-on, side-splitting laughter. "The fuck are you laughing about!?" Romano spit out, his usual anger finally overtaking his embarrassment.

"Pff—hahaha! It's just, it's—oh god, and your face, just—haha! You, you've been around for how long now? And, and—just, your reaction! Hahaha!" America seemed to have some troubles regaining his composure, but when he finally peeked up and saw the glare on Romano's face, he seemed to calm down enough to speak normally. "Do you, uh… you need a little privacy there? Pfff."

"No. You fucking bastard."

"Hey, I'll give you a few minutes to, uh, fire the gun, no biggie. Happens to the best of us. I'll go have a look around!" Without waiting for a reply, America got to his feet and left the room.

With the noisy hamburger bastard gone, Romano finally had a chance to check out where he was. The room he was in had stone walls, one door, and a single tiny opening in the wall that served as a window. It looked like something from an old castle, although that was where the familiarity ended; he had absolutely no clue where he was.

On the floor was some kind of... Magic circle, and there were some trinkets scattered about the room. Stranger yet, was the fact that there just wasn't any color here. Romano looked down at his hands and clothes; those were still normal. And even though he'd been so frazzled when America was there, he was pretty sure that the blond looked normal too.

But everything else... It was like someone opened this room in Photoshop and turned the saturation off. Just what was going on...?

Suddenly, there was a loud slam! coming from where the door was, and Romano jumped out of his skin. "Hey, South Italy!" America's voice shouted, and Romano turned around in time to see the blond barging in with someone else by his side. "Look who I found!"

"Son of a bitch!" Romano spat, once again calming his nerves. "Don't do that!" After a deep huff, he finally took a moment to look at the newcomer; she was a short woman, and entirely unfamiliar. Like the rest of their surroundings, she was also colorless, but Romano could still tell that her skin and long hair were dark.

"Haha, why are you so jumpy?" America asked, trying to piece the situation together. "Oh! Were you jerking it just now? Oops!"

Romano felt that fucking blush all over again. "N-no! No the fuck I wasn't! Shit, don't say that in front of a lady!"

"Haha, don't worry, South Italy! Lu here doesn't react to anything!" America nodded towards the woman. "She doesn't care!"

And really, the woman—Lu—did appear apathetic. But still, Romano frowned; even if she didn't care, it was still inappropriate.

"Are you ready to go, Mister South Italy? We can explain everything in the throne room," Lu said. Romano grumbled a yes under his breath—and yes, his tent problem went away on its own by then, thank you very much—and the three of them left the room.

With Lu leading the way, the group navigated through the building. Its narrow stone halls, tiny window-holes, and sconces—which were holding actual, honest-to-god torches—gave Romano the impression that they were in some old European castle.

But this was still fucking bullshit, because, a.), he and America were still the only things around here to be in color, and b.), the architecture was way the fuck wrong! Romano fucking knew his castles, visited castles from all over Europe for as long as the damn things existed, and this castle was like nothing he'd ever seen! The cramped hallways were like something out of a French, early-Renaissance monastery, the bricks looked like more of an English style, the decorative sconces looked similar to the ones he'd seen in a Florentine palace, and the fucking window holes—

"Hey," America said, nudging Romano in the shoulder and snapping him out of his inner rant. "You look like you're ready to murder the walls."

"Tch, bastard," Romano replied, trying to bring himself back into reality. "This place is all wrong."

"Yeah, I know—what happened to all the colors here?"

Romano sighed through his nose, as though he were releasing the steam from inside his head. "...Yes, well, that's wrong too. You know where we are?"

"Nope! I didn't expect to wake up here, either. I think England's trying to play a joke on us or something…"

"Us? I get that you two are butt-buddies or some shit, but why me?"

"I dunno. Because he's an asshole?"

The two of them faced forward, Lu still a few paces ahead and completely silent. They went through hallway after hallway, with their footsteps as the only sound. Clack, clack, clack…

A foreboding feeling started to settle in the pit of Romano's stomach. The mismatched styles in architecture which had enraged him so much earlier, were now filling him with dread. This wasn't some… some movie set designer's half-baked idea of an old castle, was it? It was too detailed, too big, there was no way it was just for a movie or something gimmicky like that. But otherwise, something like this shouldn't exist…

And he just noticed this, but everyone was so damn silent. Which meant America was being silent, too. No dirty jokes, no grandstanding… he glanced up at the man next to him. America's face had just the faintest sign of tension, but as soon as Romano saw it, the younger nation seemed to notice he was being watched, and immediately shot a big smile his way.

Shit. Shit shit shit fuck motherfucking shit. What the hell was going on? Dammit. 'Okay Romano, step one: Do not lose sight of America. Do not leave him.' That idiot—that strong idiot who held so much sway in the world and even managed to survive going toe-to-toe with Russia—was Romano's safest bet in this strange new place. He shuffled around in his pocket, and was relieved to find that he had a spare white flag on him. At least he had something of his own he could use.

Finally, after a long silent journey that managed to set all of Romano's nerves on edge, they stopped in an open room that held two thrones in the back. Sitting in one of the thrones was a wrinkly old man, dressed in regal clothing, with so much light hair in his long beard and in his ears, though none on his head. Of course, he was grayed out, just like everything else in this place.

He looked up at the group as they came to a stop before him, though his face remained neutral—just like Lu's. "Welcome," he greeted, as Lu gave him a quick bow. "Welcome to the Castle of Mierda; I am King Fanny."

America and Romano just stared at him, shocked. Then they looked to each other. Then… then America fell to the ground, laughing hysterically.

"Oh—oh god! Haha—man, shit, that's—that's so—! I knew it! Fuck, England always did get so elaborate with his pranks."

Despite America's outburst, Romano still felt dread. That explanation just didn't seem to suit this, and his suspicions were confirmed by the king's reply, "England? Who is that?"

"Oh, Arthur, then," America said, finally back on his feet and normal again. "You know, massive eyebrows, messed-up hair? Oh, you don't have to play dumb anymore, he had me going for a little bit there. Just for a really, tiny bit. But the jig's up!"

Lu stepped before them and cleared her throat. "There is no England," she began, addressing the two countries. "As I said to you earlier, Mister America, this world is different from the one you're from. I'm not sure how different our worlds are, but certainly… you two are not from here. All your friends, places you know, they belong in the place you left behind."

Romano froze and his blood chilled. Their world, she said… it was left behind?

Was he stuck here, in this colorless place? No more Veneziano, Mediterranean sea, Italian weather, pizza, tomatoes, fuck, even just the color red?

"So," America said, folding his arms over his chest, "why are we here?"

Lu responded, "I summoned you here. Our world is sustained by the power of the seven Ether Crystals, and for some reason, their power has been fading recently. We had some reserves of magic stored in case of emergency, and used the last of it for a spell that can call forth a pair of fearless heroes."

"Then that means, I—the two of us—we get to be the heroes?"

"No!" Romano snapped, finally able to participate in reality again. "No, this is just stupid! It's buillshit! You expect me to believe this shit? Go along with it? Where are we, really? I'm sick of this, and I'm going home, dammit!"

"You can't go home," Lu said, calmly, and it made Romano's blood flare. "The Ether Crystals are everything. They are the source of our magic. We cannot send you back home until they are restored. Furthermore—"

"Bullshit, this is bullshit!"

"—furthermore, they're getting worse. Listen carefully. Our world used to have colors. We had emotions once. But they have all faded. Our weather has calmed. No more hot or cold. It's getting worse."

"Why the fuck should I care?"

"Hey, South Italy—" America tried, but he was cut off by a hard glare from Lu.

The glare lasted only a moment before her face relaxed again, any trace of anger gone as though it were never there. "You should care. If our world dies while you're in it, what do you think will happen to you?"

"Why you—" Romano was ready to punch her, cry, kick the thrones down, anything, anything—

"Hey, South Italy! You know what this means!" America suddenly said, and that obnoxious cheer his voice usually held was back. "We're the heroes! And you get to work with the number one hero! Which would be me, if you were wondering." He laughed, pulled his stupid bomber jacket off, and wrapped it around Romano's shoulders.

Romano glared at the oversized, stupid thing. America had a tight grip on it, and dammit, he couldn't really move his arms like this. He shot his glare up to America and said, "The fuck do you think you're doing?"

"You looked cold! I just did what a true hero would."

"Well, I'm fucking fine, so get this stupid thing off—"

"You have a funny way of being excited! Come on, we're going to get to save the day!" America slung his arm around Romano's shoulders and made grandiose gestures with his other one as he explained. "We'll save the whole world, and when we see everyone else, we'll get to brag about how awesome we were. Shit, even Prussia will have to admit it, won't he?"

The jacket was soft on the inside, smelled like leather, and… Romano noticed that he was feeling less wild, and more warm.

"So, South Italy? Whaddaya say?" America had a huge grin and loosened his grip.

"...Call me Romano, bastard. South Italy sounds weird." Then Romano realized how this whole scene appeared on the outside, with him cuddled up in America's jacket, and shit fuck stop having feelings, loser, and he swiftly swung the jacket off and held it up to America. "And seriously, I'm not fucking cold, asshole!"

America just laughed as he shrugged it back on, and then flashed a thumbs-up to Lu and King Fanny.

After which he had to explain to them what the thumbs-up gesture meant, and finally after that, Lu led them out of the throne room to prepare for their adventure, or whatever.

As they walked, Romano was trying (and failing) to come to terms with the idea that they were really in a different world. 'All right, Romano, just focus on breathing...' Blowing a gasket was really not going to help anyone.

'For now, just play along. Follow along with the others. No matter what, make sure to stick with America...'

Author's Notes:

Translation/culture/whatever notes:

Mierda: It's Spanish for "shit". I figure that both America and Romano would at least know bits of Spanish, and if there's any part of the language they'll go out of their way to learn, it'd be the bad words.

Fanny: English word, and in America, it's just the cutest, most babyish way to say "butt"! But I hear in England, it's actually a super dirty way of saying "vagina"...

Lu doesn't mean anything, by the way. I just thought it was a cool name!

Notes on Hetalia for my friends who don't know much about the show, but they're still reading this because they are supremely awesome people: While all the other countries are just represented by one character (so, just one America, for example), there's two Italies: a north one, and a south one. The north one, sometimes called Veneziano, and sometimes just called Italy because he's like the default, is the character the show is named after! He's pretty spineless and carefree, and tends to be adored by others. South Italy, usually just called Romano, also has a cowardly streak, but he's foul-mouthed and more isolated from the others than the north is. And, by the way, the two Italies are brothers.

And the England-Arthur thing? At some point, the author officially released human names for the major Hetalia characters, saying that those were the names they used in public, so that it wouldn't sound weird that they're openly calling each other countries. As you may have guessed, Arthur would be England! Just about anyone who spends like a few days in the Hetalia fandom will already know these names by heart. Aw yeah!

Extra notes: I can't believe I've written this! Ahhh it still feels a little weird. I was working on a Romerica fic for NaNoWriMo, got royally stuck on what to do, but I still had all this Romerica steam I needed to blow off! So, I just... got this idea somehow and started writing. I want this to be a story where I just go along with what comes to mind and write it as I think it, because it's good to just get something out there! So I don't really know what'll happen next, but I'll try and throw something up here! Soon enough, I hope.

Ah, and for anyone interested, my name on tumblr is aviyah-halpern. Until next time, everyone!