A Bet Too Far-Chapter 2

Romano felt a small smile spread across his face as he shifted in the uncomfortable aeroplane seat. This bet might not be as bad as he'd feared; he actually had a surprising amount in common with the Englishman. Only where to go from here? He frowned, from what he'd heard, or rather overheard, mainly from France, if he came on too strong, he could scare him off. Although admittedly, Romano would have been scared as well if France had ever tried half the things he'd tried on England, luckily Spain had had enough sense to 'dissuade' France from attempting it with him. On the other hand, he didn't want England to think he'd forgotten about it, or worse, to assume that it meant nothing and brush it off. Ugh dammit, this was stupid, he sounded like some lovesick teenager!
At the same time, on a different aeroplane, England cast a tired glance out of the window, as usual the conference had been a complete waste of time, he suspected nothing short of the apocalypse would make them get along. Well, maybe not a complete waste, Romano had been a surprise, he'd always come off as rather rude to him, so their conversation in the café had been unexpected. Not that he was complaining, far from it, it was simply a shock to find how much they had in common. Admittedly what they had in common was mainly hatred for other nations, but England had to admit that he didn't mind, it had been nice to vent. Well, it would be worth bearing in mind the next time he was in that part of the world. As far as he could remember, Romano had never accompanied Italy to the UK whenever there had been a meeting, probably the weather he mused.
And in a nameless bar, a Spaniard was beginning to regret ever teasing Romano about this in the first place
"I mean, can you believe it? My dear little Lovi making fun of me like that! And with that-that gilipollas Inglaterra?"
Further down the bar, Prussia had given up listening ages ago and was doing his best to drink the bar before Spain realised it was going on his tab. France rolled his eyes, obviously no help was coming from there
"Calme toi mon ami, they insulted all of us. You know how Lovino is, he probably didn't mean any of it"
"But with Inglaterra? Of all people why him?"
"Because you persuaded him to pursue him, peut-être que? Why did you even make that bet, Toni? It can only upset people"
"No sé, I was drunk! I don't even remember how we got to talking about it, he was just making stupid claims and the idea just popped into my head"
This got the Prussian's attention "Mein gott Toni, haven't you learnt yet about following the little voices in your head?"
"¿Por qué? When has that ever led me wrong?"
"What about the time they told you to skinny dip in Florida's swamps?"
"And the time they told you that a lynx would make a perfect pet for Romano?"
"And the time they told you to let those bulls loose?"
"Hey, that's a national event now!"
"Face it mein freund, those voices just don't like you"
"I'm with Gilbert on this mon ami, and this is probably one of the stupidest things they've ever made you do!"
"Oh I don't know, what about the time they…"
"Not only is this causing you pain, as you have to watch your dear 'tomatito' flirt with your enemy, but you are manipulating Romano's feelings as well not to mention Angleterre's, I mean, what are you going to do when he finds out? I don't think I need to tell you how terrible he can be"
The colour drained from Spain's face as flashbacks of a certain Armada rolled through his mind "Ah, dios mío…" He slid further into his arms "I like my body parts where they are…where are you going?"
"You made your bed Espagne, you have to lie in it. Don't ask me how to fix this because I honestly don't know"
Spain watched his friends leave in surprise. He hadn't expected them to react like that, but then he supposed this was his fault, but try as he could, he just couldn't get his head around it, Romano and England? England and Romano? How could his little Lovi even stand that pirate thief, let alone get along with him? He'd deliberately picked England because he knew that he was insufferably hard to get on with and, if France was to be believed, he would never admit publicly that he even liked anyone, let alone that he loved them. But, but, also according to France, Romano had got as close to England in one afternoon as France had after 2 centuries! Maybe Romano was actually telling the truth when he had said that Italians could get anyone to love them, after all how did that song go? In heaven the lovers are Italian? But he'd also heard a different version where the Italians were cooks…and the lovers were French. Although, the version with the Italian lovers sounded much better to him…what were the Spanish in that song? Were they even in that song? Was it insulting or a relief that he'd been forgotten? Deciding that if he was getting to this level of thought, he'd probably had enough, Spain drew the attention of the barman. Then regretted it as he realised that his so called friends had stuck him with the bill.
"Me cago en todo lo que se menea!"
Romano sighed as he dragged his suitcase uphill to the townhouse that he and Italy shared in Rome. They had their own houses as well of course, but Romano had decided that it was probably simpler to stop here tonight and go the rest of the way tomorrow. Which would have been fine, except his brother had had the same idea, as was evident when he saw his brother's silhouette at the kitchen window. Perfect. He must have got an earlier flight back, Romano realised, no doubt the potato's idea since Italy seemed to trust him entirely with his schedule. He groaned internally, he really wasn't in the mood for his brother's overactive energy, not to mention that Feli would probably want to know why he was so late, and Romano had no idea what he would tell him.
"Ve~, you're home so late Lovi! I thought you were staying with Spagne tonight?"
"Not everything I do is with that stupid tomato bastard, why does everyone think that?"
"Eh? I don't think that fratello! You do plenty of stuff with me and umm…"
"Forget it stupid, I missed my flight and had to wait for one with a spare seat, that's all. I'm tired, I'm just going to go to bed"
"You don't want pasta, fratello? I'm sure there's enough left over for you too!"
"Just leave it in a Tupperware or something, I'll eat it later."
"Ve, are you alright fratello? You look weird"
"I-it's nothing idiot, I'm just tired, that's all. And I have to leave early tomorrow anyway or I'll miss my flight again"
"You're going home so quickly fratello? Ve…but I was hoping to spend some time with you, we barely spoke during the meeting!"
That's because you were hanging off that potato bastard the whole time, Romano thought sourly. Oh no…Feli was using that Look on him, the one that could fill even Austria with guilt.
"Che, it's-I have stuff to do at home, that's all!"
Oh, not the lip wobble, he was not pairing it with the lip wobble damn it, only one thing would persuade Italy to leave him alone. Hating himself for it, he faked a cough
"Honestly fratello, I don't feel that well...I really just want to go to bed"
Italy frowned at him, Romano silently willed him to take the bait. Faking illness was a bit drastic, but he knew his brother well enough to know that it was pretty much the only thing that would ensure that he was left alone, at least for tonight.
"Ve, I thought so, you look terrible! Oh, but if you are feeling that bad, I guess you really should go to bed Romano, it isn't good to strain yourself"
Terrible? Romano clenched his fist, about to argue the point before remembering that he was supposed to be sick. Not trusting himself to speak, he simply nodded and turned again to make his way upstairs. Did he really look that bad? He couldn't think what he'd done to cause that, but he wasn't going to complain if it got him some space.
As he got into bed, something else that Italy had said began to bother him or rather, something Italy hadn't said…was it really that hard for Italy to think of someone besides himself and Spain that Romano spent time with? Romano paused and began to think about this
Err…
He got on with Japan, didn't he? And umm…maybe Belgium? Although he hadn't actually spoken to her in a while, her brother scared him. And there was…
Argh, this shouldn't be so hard to think of dammit! He grimaced and punched his pillow in frustration. It wasn't his fault that he liked to be on his own a lot of the time! He was fine by himself! Unbidden England's face drifted into his mind.
"Why am I thinking of him? Ugh!"
Romano groaned and tossed and turned, trying to just get to sleep so that his stupid thoughts would stop bothering him. It wasn't like he was even interested in the Englishman, even if he was…not as bad as Romano had first feared. Although, now he thought about it, most of his knowledge about him had come from Spain, and hadn't those two been at each other's throats for a while now? So it would make sense that Spain hadn't exactly sung England's praises…so why had Spain picked him out of everyone?
Maybe that was why England's face wouldn't leave him alone? Because he was still in character from either that day? Your mind was meant to use sleep time to file away the day's events right, so maybe his mind was just committing this afternoon to memory. It wasn't like it meant anything; he was just playing a part in front of England to prove that tomato bastard wrong! Satisfied with this reasoning, Romano shifted into a more comfortable position and found sleep.