Romano's heart was on the point of breaking.
It wasn't the first time, really, but the way that Spain looked at him was too much for him to bear. Spain looking at him like that wasn't the first time either, but it was the first time that Romano finally realized that he was wrong and that it wasn't all in his head.
Spain's eyes were on him throughout the meal with his brother and Germany. The four would discuss, fight, make up and laugh (at Romano, the south Italian was sure), but Spain would always return his gaze to him, almost caressing him without even touching him.
The worst of all was that Veneziano noticed.
Of all the times Veneziano would be too much in his all world to see what was happening around him, his brother found just that opportunity to look at him with a knowing twinkle in his eyes and a sly smile playing on his lips. Romano glared at him, but North Italy just grinned as if he had known all along.
If Romano didn't do anything, he was sure that his brother would say something extremely embarrassing out loud, and, worst of all, in front of Germany, who was in that moment talking with Spain. Spain laughed and answered all Germany's questions, but then, under the table, he searched for Romano's fingers. Romano would be much of a coward not to tighten his grip around that hand.
"So, Spain…" North Italy suddenly said, and Romano glared at him, imperceptibly squeezing Spain's hand in the process. Spain and Germany turned their heads at Veneziano, and before his brother could continue his (he knew) stupid question, Romano kicked him hard under the table.
Feliciano let out a scream, and, as if they knew, Germany and Spain looked at Romano immediately after. Spain looked amused, and Romano's blush darkened under the other's gaze.
"Romano." Germany said then, "Did you-!"
"Maybe we should go!" Spain said then, letting go of Romano's hand and standing up. Romano and Feliciano looked at him with equally confused faces for a moment, before Romano stood up immediately as well. "The dinner was amazing as always, but we have a long way to go and we should probably head out." Spain added with a big smile.
Germany stood up as well completely unaware of the stares Italy and Romano were sending at each other.
"Oh, if that's the case." Germany said being a good host in Italy's own house. Feliciano pouted, but didn't dare to protest. Romano opened his mouth, ready to retort something nasty about Germany wanting them gone because he wanted to spend some "quality time" with his brother. But Spain grabbed his hand once more, shutting him up before he could let out his thoughts.
Romano looked at him. Spain's eyes were so green that it made him forget for a moment where he was and what he was doing. The fact that Germany and Italy were looking at them didn't matter anymore. Romano's heart skipped a beat. Spain smiled, and Romano fought with the urge to kiss him.
"Y-yeah! Dammit!" Romano exclaimed then, turning to glare at Germany but wanting to look at Spain again. "I'm sick and tired of your fucking company! Next time you invite me over, dear brother…" Romano said turning to Feliciano, "…be sure that potato head doesn't tag along!"
Feliciano raised an eyebrow at him. Romano gulped, knowing very well what Feliciano was going to say next, and pushed Spain out of the front door.
"Good fucking night!" Romano shouted and slammed the door shut. Romano didn't wait for Spain to follow him and ran away until he felt at a safe distance from his brother's house. It was only when he stopped to take a breath that he remembered Spain was supposed to be with him.
"What happened?" Spain said then when Romano turned his head to see if the older nation had followed him. Spain was smiling amusedly at him, and suddenly put a hand on Romano's shoulder as if to prevent him from running away again. Spain was slightly panting, and Romano started shaking under the other's touch.
It was too much for him.
"I hate Germany." He said then, just to say something, as Spain looked down at him and moved a little closer.
Romano would never get used to Spain like that. He suddenly remembered when he met Spain for the first time, all those years crying for the other's return after going out for a mission. Romano felt a wave of jealousy when he suddenly remembered Spain's flirting with Canada and England, the hurt at seeing the other looking at everybody but him.
Only to realize that Romano had been in Spain's heart all along.
Romano could see the look in Spain's eyes.
He had been stupid for not noticing sooner.
"What?" Spain suddenly asked, confused. "Do I have something on my face?"
"Y-yeah! You are ugly!"
Spain just smiled. Romano looked away.
"I-I…" Romano shook his head and slapped himself mentally. Spain was now his. That was all mattered. His. He liked that word.
"What is it?" Spain asked. Romano shrugged, trying to regain some of his mightiness back and kissed the other on the lips. Spain's hands were immediately on him, and Romano never wanted to let him go.
"Let's go home." Romano said when they parted, not really wanting to get out of Spain's embrace. Spain didn't look so keen either, and so they remained like that for a while before they remembered that they could now stay like that whenever they wanted to.
France couldn't stop smiling while England scowled at the other side of the table.
"What happened some days ago doesn't give you the right to come at my house whenever you please." England said pointedly looking at him, his hand holding his empty cup of tea just for the sake of doing something. France rose his nose up in the air.
"Then you have all the rights to throw me out." France said teasingly. England stared at him for a long time and then started laughing, out of the blue, as if what France had said was ridiculous. France felt his lips twitch upwards and looked at England again.
"Stop looking at me like that." England stated, trying hard to look serious again but failing miserably. France raised an eyebrow.
"Like I'm the most important person on Earth." England said. France snorted.
"I bet you like it." France just retorted. England didn't say anything. "But you are just saying that because you are still mad at me."
"I am always mad at you." England said after a moment of silence. France stared at him and slowly stood up. "You'll be the death of me." England added, watching France's every move.
"Isn't that what we are trying to pursue all these years?" France said walking closer to where England sat. The green eyed nation didn't move, but France couldn't help but notice that the other's grip on the cup of tea had loosened slightly.
"Nowadays you find really stupid ways to kill me." England said tilting his head up. France hummed and leaned down a little, just close enough to feel the other's soft breathing on his skin.
"We already had that argument." France said. England stared at him. "I wasn't trying to kill you with that bet."
England's hand moved and coincidentally grabbed the other's shirt.
"I just wanted to hurt you. Like always." France said moving a little when England stood up to be at the same eye level of France. "Why do you keep bringing that up?" he asked then, feeling his throat dry.
"Because I like listening to your apologies." England said, his forehead pressing on France's one. France closed his eyes for a second and then stared at England's face again.
"I never said I was sorry." France retorted, moving his hands around the other's waist. England smirked. Their chests pressed inadvertently against each other. "I like how I found more fun ways to hurt you."
England's eyes were on his. France ran a finger down the other jawline, feeling invisible scars that he had curved into the other's skin. It was fascinating how much he had wanted this.
"I should have tried it sooner." France added as an afterthought. All the times they had fought against each other, all the times each other hands had found each other's throats, all the time they had made each other cry and felt powerful for it were nothing compared to what France felt now.
He couldn't keep his hands off England anymore, and the fact that England didn't mind and gave in to his own instincts, made France glad he had agreed on that stupid bet in the first place.
England was still smirking, as if he knew exactly how he made France feel. France wouldn't manage to hold himself for long, and England knew it.
England was still mad at him, but it looked like the fact he had a kind of power he had never dared to discover before on France made the British forget about what happened in the last few months.
"You are not going to throw yourself at Canada or Romano again, are you?" England asked then, a question he had been asking for the nth time. France groaned in annoyance, and England's grin grew even larger. England wasn't asking for confirmation, neither was he jealous or insecure. The British was just teasing him, France knew. "Would you rather kiss Canada now?" England asked afterwards, almost daring him to answer.
France shot him a look. England was going to rub it in forever, even if France had his own share of blackmail to do against England. This time, though, he didn't want to start an argument again. Arguments were what England's used not to show his feeling.
This time France wouldn't let him.
"I love you." France said suddenly. England didn't even look taken aback. The words came out of his mouth naturally even if he had never told England before. France waited for the other's reaction.
"Say it again." England ordered, but France didn't comply. Just leaned finally down and kissed England on the lips. England opened his mouth letting France breathe him in.
"Go out with me." France whispered then between kisses. England didn't answer, but France felt the slight nod against his lips.
The first time Prussia kissed Canada was in the middle of watching a movie.
Canada had been trying hard to pay attention on the plot while Prussia lay down on the younger nation's couch with his head on Canada's lap. But Prussia suddenly thought that the movie was just a little bit boring, grabbed the other's face and met halfway to kiss him.
Canada should have expected Prussia's impulsive behavior, but couldn't help but yelp a little when the albino caught his lips in his. Canada didn't mind really, and he was glad that after that kiss followed another then another and then another.
Prussia could be quite possessive, Canada realized after some time. Especially when it looked like Germany had let out that he had seen France kiss Canada on the lips once and Prussia went and punched France directly in the eye. Prussia had then spilled the beans to Canada, telling him all about the bet and how sorry he felt for deceiving him like that.
Canada was a little bit peeved at first, but then decided that ruining his newborn relationship with Prussia wasn't worth it. Prussia had been an honest man, and Canada liked that in a nation.
"How long have you been interested in me?"
Prussia had answered:
"Remember that time when I was training America and I asked you to join?"
Canada found it was rather sweet that they had fallen in love at the same time. They didn't look like they were meant for each other at all. Their characters were so different, but for the time being it worked anyway.
It was strange how everything started with such a stupid bet and ended up working perfectly in their favor. Canada even liked the fact that now, whenever he met Romano or England on the way, they would immediately wave hello at him. England invited him over sometimes, while Romano was much shyer about it and just implied he would be happy to see him more often. The implications were so hidden that if Canada hadn't learned to read between Romano's lines he would have never understood what the older nation was getting at.
Canada, though, didn't think he would take the offer any time soon as Romano was busy trying to change the relationship he had with Spain from an I-love-you-but-I-won't-tell-you relation to a more romantic one. To go to England was quite impossible too as the other was usually with France those days.
So Canada enjoyed his time with Prussia, especially now that his ex-caretakers were too occupied in each other to butt in in his relationships.
Canada loved every moment of it. Prussia didn't use lame pick-up lines with him, he treated him seriously and liked to kiss him a lot. Canada had never felt so comfortable with another person before.
"Should we go out tonight? I'm quite bored listening to Germany all day long today…"
Or eating sandwiches sitting on the grass when it was sunny.
Or listening to the other's characteristic laugher.
Or waking up to find Prussia fumbling with his cupboards in search of a clean cup to use.
Or simply holding each other hand.
Or when Canada said "I love you" for the first time, and Prussia had grinned and almost laughed around from happiness.
Or hearing that:
"I love you too."
Everything was perfect, and if Canada had to go back in time with the possibility of preventing the Bad Touch Trio from making that bet, Canada wouldn't stop them.