A/N: This is the sequel to my other story, "Desaparicíon." It's totally possible to read them separately, but it'll probably make more sense to read the other one first.
The bartender shot the group an angry glare when they walked inside. Which was really quite rude. Honestly, you'd think he'd be a little more polite to his most loyal customers. So what if they'd gotten arrested in his bar only a week ago? They'd at least paid for all of their drinks before the cops had shoved them out of the door.
Besides, he should really be used to it by now. It's not like they were usually violent or too destructive. It was usually just public indecency, which really shouldn't be a crime when you were as awesome as they were.
Then again, he was one of England's citizens. That probably explained everything.
France, Prussia, and Spain wandered over to their usual seats and settled down, ignoring the dirty looks and obvious eye threats of 'I'm watching you'. France immediately noticed the new waiter. Hmm, cute… Very cute. The bartender muttered something in his ear, motioning with his chin toward the table. The man immediately nodded, grabbing a tray of drinks and heading over.
"Your drinks, sirs," he remarked quickly, setting the tray down.
France immediately flashed him an appraising look and then winked flirtatiously, causing a flush to break out over the young human's face.
"Still hitting on the waiter," Prussia remarked, as he grabbed his mug. "You know what happens when you flirt with them. We get kicked out even faster than usual. Besides, what makes you think that he's interested?"
"Mon ami, everyone is interested in moi." France grinned at him. "Besides, I feel lucky."
The albino nation snorted and tilted back his beer, eyeing him once he'd taken down enough to probably choke a normal human. "How about we bet on that?"
"With what?" France questioned curiously, as he glanced down at the beer, wrinkling his nose slightly. He'd much rather have wine, but there was little chance of getting anything like that in one of England's pubs.
"Hmm, how about that ex-colony of yours? The one with the maple syrup. Who always carries that bear around."
France hesitated for a moment, the vaguest memory flickering through his mind. Maple syrup…bear… "Mathieu!?" he gasped in shock. "Why would you want mon petit Mathieu?"
"Why not?" Prussia shrugged. "He's cute enough."
France snorted and shook his head. "You don't have any colonies to bet, mon ami, so I'm sorry…"
"How about Romano?"
Spain hadn't been paying them any attention until now, when his head jerked up so fast that it must have hurt. "What?! You can't bet Lovi!"
Prussia glared at him, sticking out his tongue rather immaturely. "We won't lose, so it doesn't matter anyway. The awesome me never loses bets."
Spain's eyes were wide in horror as he hurriedly shook his head. "No. No way."
Prussia sighed, realizing that he wasn't going to win. Stupid Spain, ruining his fun. "Fine, fine, we'll just use money. You're so unawesome sometimes, Tonio. You should really learn how to share."
France shook his head slightly at his friends, glancing back toward the waiter for a moment before he turned to the topic he'd called them together to discuss. "So, who agrees with me that Allemange and Italie need to resolve all of this sexual tension?"
Prussia snorted. "Who wouldn't want them too? They're almost as obnoxiously dense as eyebrows and the American idiot who can only dream of being as awesome as me. Or Tonio," he elbowed Spain in the ribs. "Only took us kidnapping you."
Spain flashed them a dirty look. He still hadn't entirely forgiven them for that stunt. Even if it had led to such a marvelous outcome…
France turned the conversation back to the topic at hand. "Then if we're agreed, I think we should make it happen."
"Really?" Prussia leaned across the table, swiping his mug and finishing the beer inside. France let him. The stuff was nasty anyway and he'd have to deal with the albino's complaining if he didn't. "And how are we going to do it?"
"Well, your brother is the only real problem, since he refuses to admit that he's in love with mon petit Italie. I don't think it should take too much work, though, to break him. We just need to make Italie the most desirable thing he's ever seen." He grinned mischievously. "You know all about what sorts of things he's into, right?"
"Of course. Like he could get away with having porn and not letting me see it."
"You think Italie will go along with it?" Spain questioned. "And—even if he does—what about Romano?"
France sighed and shook his head at his friend's hopelessness. "Obviously that's your job. Keep the cranky Italie distracted while we're working on Allemange."
Prussia seemed deep in thought as he stared down at his empty mug. Then he grinned, his smile predatory. "I think it's an awesome plan. And I know just to ask to help us. Westen will never know what hit him."
"Then we're agreed." France motioned toward the waiter and motioned for more beers, simultaneously slipping a piece of paper in the male's pocket and flashing him a bright grin. The boy flushed, sliding his fingers into the pocket before he turned and hurried to the counter to get their tray.
When he set it down, France immediately lifted his mug and grinned. "To l'amour!"
"My oblivious bruder!"
They all laughed, clanking their mugs together in a triangle before throwing them back.
"And now to get completely wasted!" Prussia laughed. "Bring on the booze!"
A/N: So this story is going to be GerIta with some Spero in the background. And "Leunung" means Denial. :D
It seems like, for some reason, my head!canon is convinced that the Bad Touch Trio = Matchmaking service.
I love these guys so much. The more I write them, the more I want to plot evil deeds with them.
Mon petit – my little
Mon ami – my friend
Allemange – Germany
l'amour – love
The rest should be obvious.
As always, I love love love reviews :D