World War 2p! (formerly 2p! Realization)

When in Rome.....

((SORRY! I know I promised this last week, but my parents took my phone before I could publish it! I hope y'all like the kinda angsty and fluffy Spamano and GerIta in this chappie!

If you want a specific pairing with characters I have not already specified, don't hesitate to say!

A ton of swearing in this one cause it's Romano))

Romano begn to move, groaning and clutching his head. He looked around and then sat up suddenly. Where was that fucking horror house? And where was he? And Spain? And Veneziano? And the others? And why was he even live? He tried to ignore his aching head and focus on his surroundings. He was... he was.... what the fuck?!

He was in Rome?! But... How? He stood up, and realized that he was on the Spanish Steps. A few steps down was the answer to one of his questions: Spain. He crawled through the vast amount of tourists and sat beside Spain's head. The man was unconscious, and as Romano leaned closer, he noticed that the man was not breathing properly. He tried shaking, slapping, yelling, biting, pinching, hugging (in annoyance)' and hair pulling, but none of it worked.

Finally, he knew what he would have to do. He awkwardly picked up the spaniard and put him over his shoulder like a fireman. He would look for someone else and see if they knew a better cure. He trudged down the steps and into the streets of Rome. Romano spotted many unconscious or dead (he didn't know) nations.

He kept going until he reached the Trevi fountain. He had already talked to Hong Kong and Norway, but they were having the same problem and didn't know how to fix it. A small yell tore itself from his throat as he saw a healthy, smiling, living Veneziano running towards him. Behind him, leaning against the wall of the fountain, was a man whom he was not as excited to see: Germany. He propped Spain up against the wall of a nearby store and ran full speed towards his brother.

"VENECIANO! IDIOTA! why the HELL did you have to go and die, dammit?!" Romano yelled, half hugging, half punching his twin. "Fratello! I was so scared! My white flag made no-a difference, they just kept-a coming! It really hurt, but in the end-... Germany had to-... And then he-... But now we're okay, right?" Veneciano explained, clutching his brother's shoulders. Romano softened at the implication, and hugged the weaker man more gently.

"Hey... Veneciano?" Romano asked tentatively, "How..., exactly..., did you die?" The younger twin stared at him in astonishment. "Isn't it... Obvious? You can see the... Scar." He whimpered, brushing aside his hair to make it more visible. Romano stared in equal surprise as he looked, and indeed found a clean, inch-long scar. "You got shot..." He mumbled. "Si." Veneciano confirmed sullenly, "I also got cut a lot, but can we please wait for the... Full story? I know the others will want to know too." Romano nodded his assent.

He then walked back over to Spain. "Hey. Idiota, wake up now. Wake up! Hey, bastardo, wake up, dammit! HEY FUCKING IDIOTIC BASTARDO GET YOUR UNCONSCIOUS ASS UP SO I CAN STOP FUCKING WORRYING!" He ordered, yelling at the tomato-loving man in front of him. "Fratello? Maybe you should calm down a little. I know you're worried about Spain("I am not, dumbass!") but he'll be okay, you'll see. Maybe we could find someone to help! But... Romano, how did you die? I can't see-" Veneciano asked, but was cut off. "My damn 2p! Fucking killed us both. He skewered us like a fucking kabob." Romano growled bitterly, clutching his stomach where he had been stabbed. Tentatively, his brother reached for the fabric of his uniform and lifted it. He embraced the other as soon as he saw the long scar. "Oh fratello, it must have been horrible! I'm very sorry for you." He said comfortingly.

Then, Veneciano went to try his luck at waking the unconsious man. "Hey Spain? Big brother Spain! Wake up! Romano's worried about you and I am too! ("I am not worried! Chigi!")Please wake up so we can see that you're okay!" He pleaded. "Wait." Germany ordered. "I think I know how to wake him, but I don't think you're going to like it." "You better not even think about hurting him!" Romano threatened. "Calm down, that's not it at all. You have to- mein Gott this sounds cliche. You have... To kiss him. It happens a lot in folklore, and according to... a reliable source, it's a universal cure." Romano stared at him open mouthed. "What the fuck?! I am NOT going to- to kiss that idiot, you potato bastardo! There must be another way!"

"There isn't, aru." A voice came from behind them and they whirled around to see- "China!" Italy squealed, running to hug him. "I think something went wrong with the magic, so not all of us came back fully. The blood must not have been used or prepared properly. He needs a kiss from the person he loves most." "Which, if The awesome me knows him at all, would be you." Another voice pointed out, slinging an arm around Germany's shoulders. Prussia smirked at Romano suggestively.

Romano spluttered and stuttered in confusion and outrage, as the others held back a laugh. "I know it must be weird and stupid in your opinion, aru, but-" china was interrupted by Veneciano."I know you hate to admit it, but you really do love Spain. You're he only one who can save him. I-I tell you what... I'll show you." And with that, he jumped towards Germany, as Prussia moved out of the way, and kissed the taller man, standing on his tiptoes to reach his lips. Germany's eyes widened in surprise, but he didn't pull away, instead cupping Italy's chin in one hand and wrapping the other around his waist.

Romano looked on in astonishment, torn between tearing the two apart and scolding his brother, or doing the same to Spain. He decided on the latter, kneeling awkwardly beside the unconscious spaniard and using his hands to gently tilt his unfeeling head towards himself. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, leaning in... And then they were kissing. Well, Romano was, anyway. It was like trying to kiss a lukewarm, soft, brick wall.he pulled back, eyebrows furrowed and cheeks tinted.

He tried again, kissing deeper, using his hands to bring the other man closer and then forcing him back with his lips. Then suddenly, before he knew what was happening, he was on his back. Spain stared down at him, green eyes open and full of life. He looked overjoyed to be woken up in such a way. In a moment, they were both kissing once more, this time Spain kissing back just as passionately. He gasped and tried to squirm away, but Spain gripped his wrists, pinning them over his head so that he was left with three options: continue like this, pretend to faint or die from lack of oxygen, or try to knee him in his... *ahem* vital regions. The second one would most likely result in a worse situation than he was already in, and as hilarious as the third option would be, he hardly thought it would help to explain why he had been kissing him so very passionately, so he kissed back, a small moan escaping his throat.

If only they could stay this way forever.