Title: Educating America
Characters/Pairings: America, Romano. Some background pairings in passing.
Ratings/Warnings: PG13 for language, I guess. Rapid tense change. Awkwardness!
Summary: America wants to get to know Romano better. Romano just wants to fix the idiot's tastebuds.
Notes: Again, I'm not sure how this works yet, so if I screw anything up, just let me know
No, America is not goig to get drunk. (And if you're curious about the law thing- it's political.)
Upon arriving back at the table, America was not terribly surprised to find North Italy there, clinging to Germany's arm as if his life depended on it. He was smiling, but red-rimmed eyes and the patch of wetness on Germany's shoulder indicated that the younger Italy brother had recently been crying, as well. It looked like Germany had the situation well in hand, though, so America just smiled and waved. "Hey guys!" he greeted, plopping into his chair. "You just get back, Italy?"
"Mm~, yep!" Feliciano chirped, releasing Germany's arm and leaning forward. "Brother sent me back. I made him mad." he admitted sadly."He doesn't like it when I talk about Germany. Ve~, I don't know why he dislikes Germany so much. But, America," he asked, brightening again,"where did you go off to?"
"Oh, right! Germany! I almost forgot." America said eagerly, and held up a finger,"One sec." Searching his pockets and pulling out his cell, he removed a data stick and tossed it on the table."I recorded the conversation I had with England for you. It was so epic! I had to cut it short," he added, as the the nation picked it up and examined it, "but if you're at the next world meeting, you can watch him finish." He grinned, and Germany smirked. "I'm sure he'll have worked himself into a fury by then. It should be great, bring a camera!"
"I'll do that, thank you." Germany nodded his thanks, slipping the recording into an inside pocket. Prussia would love this, he'd have to listen to it with him later.
"Ve~, you talked to England? Why?" the Italian asked, looking between the two blonds curiously.
"Just letting Iggy know I've been suit shopping with Romano." America said, with a wink to Germany."He's been wanting me to wear a suit for years."
"Indeed," Germany supplied, "England has often expressed his concern over America's wardrobe."
"Ah~." the half-nation nodded. He didn't understand why England would be upset about America finally wearing suits like he'd wanted, but decided it wasn't important, and returned to leaning on Germany.
"Man, I'm starvinnnng~." America whined, "When can we eat?" He followed this up with a jaw-wrenching yawn, blinking a few times and leaning forward to sprawl his upper torso on the table, resting his chin on folded arms.
"Ve~, America, are you tired already?" Feliciano asked. "It's barely eight, yet!"
"Mm, a little." America admitted, rubbing his eyes,"I haven't slept much this week." another yawn."I didn't want to miss hanging out with Romano." He settled back on his arms, blinking sleepily.
"You didn't sleep all week because you didn't want to miss a dinner engagement on the weekend?" Germany frowned. Had the American expected to sleep through the weekend if he closed his eyes? Surely he wasn't that stupid?
"Yeah. Well," he amended,"mostly because I had a lot of extra work come in. I had to work double shifts in order to finish on time, or I would have had to work all weekend, too."
"Ve~, that's so sweet, America!" the Italian effused, clasping his hands and smiling happily."You must really like big brother~."
"I do." America nodded, "I like Romano a lot. But I don't think he feels the same way, yet." he added, sighing a little.
"When did you sleep last?" Germany asked.
"Um." the other nation blinked, trying to remember."I had a few hours this morning, I think. I don't really remember." Germany sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Italy, why don't you get America some coffee? Something strong."
"Ve~, that's a great idea! You're so smart, Germany!" North Italy praised, hugging the German and bounding to his feet."Don't worry, America! I'll get you some coffee, so you won't be sleepy anymore!" he patted the American's shoulder reassuringly.
"That sounds...really good." America nodded, smiling drowsily."Thanks, guys."
"My pleasure, ve~! I want Romano to be happy, too!" The Italian beamed, and left in search of caffeine.
3 cups of coffee later, America was feeling completely recharged. He was impressed- he had a high caffeine tolerance, since he drank so much soda and coffee normally, but Italy's coffee was in a different league entirely. And strong. It was possibly the best coffee he'd ever had, he admitted to himself. He'd have to see about bringing some back with him.
"I don't think I've ever tasted coffee like this." he said, looking at the bottom of his third cup."It's really good!"
"Of course it is, idiot. That crap you Americans drink is just dark bitter water." another voice interjected from behind them. America looked over his shoulder to see Romano strolling up, hands in his pockets.
"Romano!" he greeted gleefully."You're back!"
The Italian shot him a look, taking his seat and reaching for the coffee. "Very observant, bastard. I never would have noticed if you didn't yell it across the restaurant." He responded dryly, pouring himself some coffee.
"Haha, sorry. I'm just happy to see you." America grinned, squirming in his seat. Romano facepalmed, exhaling exasperatedly.
"...You either need more coffee, bastard, or a whole lot less."
"More please!" the blond requested, holding out his now-empty cup.
"Do I look like a barista to you, idiot? You can pour it yourself, dammit." the half-nation grumbled, but filled it anyway.
"It's so good!" America beamed, taking a sip."Thank you, Romano~."
"Cheh, I only poured it 'cause if I let you do it, you'd have spilled it all over your suit, stupid." Romano scoffed, sipping his own coffee. "Don't get the wrong idea, dammit." The blond just smiled.
The other two watched this exchange with varying degrees of interest. Germany wondered what America had done to keep South Italy from constantly hitting/throwing things/yelling at him (nothing he'd tried to do to prevent it ever seemed to work). He made a mental note to ask the other nation later.
Feliciano was just happy that his brother seemed to have calmed down. "Ve~ welcome back, brother!" he smiled, reaching across the table to take his brother's hand.
"Don't copy the moron, stupid." Romano ordered. "One idiot is bad enough."
"Ve~." the other half-nation prodded his brother's bandages. "Where did your ice pack go?"
"Melted, idiot. They'll bring out another with the wine."
"Ah." Feliciano nodded.
"I can't drink wine."America said offhandedly. "I'll just stick with coffee."
Romano slammed his cup down. "What the hell do you mean, you can't drink wine?" he growled, eyes narrowing at the taller nation. "You can't eat Italian food without wine, bastard."
"I'm underage." America explained. "So I can't drink alcohol."
"What the fuck? No you're not." Romano argued.
"Yeah I am," America insisted."It's not legal to drink alcohol if you're under 21."
"Ve~, we don't have such a law, America~." the younger Italian interjected."You can drink at any age, here."
America blinked in surprise. "Really? Huh."
"What kind of moronic rule is that, anyway? No alcohol 'til you're 21, I've never heard something so stupid." Romano scoffed, then furrowed his brows."Wait, are you telling me that you've never had alchohol?"
"Sure I have." America said, sipping his coffee."I used to drink sometimes when I was younger, 'specially during the wars. And England and France used to give me wine and beer all the time when I was a kid. Once England even let me have some rum, but I didn't like it much. I haven't since the law was put into effect, though."
"Cheh, I don't see why not. It's not like you'd get into trouble for it, moron." Romano said, rolling his eyes. "What kind of genius decided 21 was the best age to start drinking, anyway? What a stupid law."
"It's not stupid," America defended. "and I don't make the laws, but I do follow them. It wouldn't be heroic to expect my people to uphold the law if I'm not willing to."
"America is correct." Germany agreed. "Rules are necessary to maintain order and structure. When they're not followed, society falls into chaos."
Romano snorted, opening his mouth to argue, but America interrupted. "What's the drinking age at your place, Germany?" he asked interestedly.
"In Germany the legal age for alcohol consumption is 16 for wine and beer, 18 for hard liquor."
"Wow, really? That's so young! What about guns, then? Or cigarettes?"
"18 to smoke, and for possession of low-caliber handguns if you meet requirements and have the proper license."
"Huh, how about you guys?" the American asked, looking between the Italy brothers.
"Ve~, we don't have any age limit on smoking, either~." North Italy answered, leaning on the table.
"18 for guns, though." South Italy added.
"That seems to be the only thing you have a restriction on." America teased, poking Romano, who responded by kicking him under the table.
"Cheh, we're just not as uptight as you two, jerk."
"Ow, hey." the American rubbed his shin, pouting. Then he grinned, slowly. "So...what are your guys' age of consent?"
"Consent for what?" Germany asked, looking puzzled.
"Oh, oh! 14!" North Italy announced proudly. "We can have sex at 14!"
"Why do you need to know, bastard?" Romano demanded, scowling.
"Just curious!" America answered, smiling innocently. "So, how about you, Germany?" he asked, turning to the other blond.
Germany blushed deeply, looking uncomfortable. "This isn't an appropriate topic of discussion." he said, looking down at his hands, folded in his lap.
"Aw, c'mon. It's just a question! It's not like I'm asking you to sleep with me." the other nation coaxed. Romano was torn between hitting the idiot or taking advantage of the potato-bastard's obvious discomfort. He did both, kicking the American and turning to the German with a scowl.
"Dammit, answer the stupid question you potato-sucking jackass, or he'll never shut up." he ordered.
"You know, that's going to bruise if you keep it up." America frowned, examining his leg.
"You can take it, bastard."
"Of course I can! Just sayin'." the blond grinned, and turned back to the German expectedly. "So?"
Germany sighed deeply. "14." he admitted quietly, trying to will away his blush.
"Wow, really? Man, even France's is 15, and I thought that was young."
"Ve~, what about America? What are your rules for all those things?"
"18 for consent in most states, but sometimes 16, depending where you go." America answered readily. "18 for cigarettes and guns, too."
"So you can smoke, shoot and have sex before you can drink?" Romano shook his head in disbelief. "What do you bastards have against alchohol?"
"Um...you know, that's a good question. I'm not really sure." America responded, furrowing his brows."I haven't really thought about it before."
"It is kind of strange, America." the younger Italian agreed.
"It makes no difference as long as the law is followed." Germany stated.
"Yeah, I'm not going to worry about it." America agreed, and held out his cup to Romano."Fill me up, Romano?"
"Do it your damn self, bastard." the other growled.
"I would, but I'm worried about my suit~, Romano! Well, actually," he amended, looking down at himself, "The tie might be ruined, but I think the suit might be ok, it looks dark enough to hide coffee stains."
"Ve~ noooo!" Feliciano wailed, horrified. "That would be very bad, America~! Very, very bad!"
"If you spill anything on that suit, bastard," Romano snarled, angrily swiping the cup and filling it halfway,"I will strangle you with your own damn tie." He slammed the cup down in front of the blond.
"Okay, Romano!" America smiled, taking a sip. "I'll try not to. Thanks for the coffee!"
"You'd better do more than try, dammit. And don't expect it to become a habit. I just did it for the suit's sake, bastard."
"Whatever you say, Romano~!" the American laughed."So...when do we eat?"