Author's Note: A bit late. Oops? I actually started this last summer. I stumbled across it two days ago and decided that I should finish it for New Year's Eve. Hope you enjoy! Please review.

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Countdown

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It was the perfect weather for a New Year's Party. There was a dusting of snow on the ground, still fresh and sparkling in the moonlight. It was cold, but nothing that a scarf thrown over a good jacket couldn't cure. Romano tugged his scarf tight around his neck, more as a nervous gesture than because he was really cold.

It was a nice party, Romano had to admit grudgingly. Even though America was the one hosting it, the decorations weren't too gaudy. There was too much glitter for Romano's tastes, but it was still subtle enough to be a design choice rather than a bizarre and frightening sensory overload, the way last year's decorations had been. Strings of white lights hung above America's patio, along with black and white fabric drapings. It seemed like everyone was there, chatting at the tables or dancing on the makeshift dance floor. Romano supposed the only reason it wasn't entirely claustrophobic was the fact they were on the airy patio.

So far, the night had been fairly uneventful. There had been a bit of a scene when Sealand had shown up, intent on crashing the nations-only party. After a brief discussion between Sweden and Finland about the extension of bedtimes for certain micronations, however, it was decided he could stay. There had been another stir when America and England had toppled over the table holding the punch when America got a bit impatient about waiting for a midnight kiss, and a brief panic when no one could find Sealand until he was found curled up and snoring lightly under the table holding the snacks. Overall, though, it was definitely calmer and more enjoyable than most world meetings or any other nation get-together.

Romano was not enjoying the party. He might have, if he had sat himself up at one of the tables near the bar and spent the evening getting drunk and complaining over the quality of the liquor with Belgium, or if he'd taken to the dance floor the way his brother had. Instead, though, he'd stationed himself behind a lush evergreen and had spent the past two hours doing nothing but worrying.

Romano had a Plan. It was the type of Plan that formed a knot in his stomach that tightened with every tick of the clock and squeezed tension through ever muscle of his body. It was the type of Plan that took a lot of courage, and courage was something that Romano was typically in very short supply of.

At midnight, he would kiss Spain.

Romano was not usually the affectionate, demonstrative sort (and wasn't that the understatement of the year?), but some times these things had to be done. He'd tried pretty much everything else, from simple flowers to a complicated plan involving gelato, a retired gondolier with arthritis supplied by Veneziano, and a staged power outage. Spain was just so dense and oblivious and stupid that he couldn't get the hint, so it was time for Romano to be direct. Tonight was the night that he was going to kiss Spain and get it through the idiot's head that Romano was in love with him.

"Ten!"

Romano froze. What the hell? He had been positive there was more than ten seconds left to midnight. He left the security of his shadowy lurking spot behind the evergreen, feeling very exposed. No one noticed him, though, caught up in the excitement of bringing in the new year.

"Nine!"

Damnit, where was Spain? Stupid idiot was always messing up Romano's plans. He kept running into people who were not Spanish and they kept trying to do dumb things like hug him or tell him that the new year was invented in Korea ("It's been 2010 for almost a whole day in Korea!" Korea informed him as Romano tried to shake off his grip on Romano's sleeve.)

"Eight!"

No, seriously, where was Spain? This whole stupid plan would be for nothing if he couldn't find Spain. Romano had thought he'd be lurking around France and Prussia or maybe hanging out with Veneziano. He wasn't, though. He wasn't anywhere, though. It was like he'd just vanished from the party.

"Seven!"

Alright, Romano thought, trying to approach this logically. Where would Spain be? Probably chasing a bowl of bananas or something. Spain was so dumb. The countdown was almost half over! Where was he? It wasn't like Romano couldn't kiss him some other time... but he'd been planning this! The plan called for Romano to kiss Spain at midnight. Romano wasn't used to coming up with genuinely good plans, so he wanted to follow this one as best as he could. Spain wasn't making that possible, though. Damn him.

"Six!"

Maybe this was for the best. Romano's shoulders slowly, slowly, slowly relaxed as he considered this thought. Maybe it was okay if he couldn't find Spain. If he couldn't find Spain, then he couldn't find Spain. It wasn't anything to get upset over. It was still a good plan. He could just wait until the next time all the nations were counting down for something and he could kiss Spain then. It wasn't a big deal.

"Five!"

The muscles along Romano's spine had loosened into something resembling their normal shape again. Right. It just wasn't time to let Spain know that his heart fluttered every time Spain smiled at him (which was really a lot), or that Romano looked forward to the long, grueling days of tomato harvest more than he looked forward to any other days of the year. It wasn't time to let Spain know about this warm, terrifying feeling that swelled up in Romano's chest whenever he so much as thought about that annoying Spanish bastard.

"Four!"

It was a stupid plan anyways. It was really stupid. Kissing Spain with all those nations around? It would be embarrassing! There would be pictures and gossip and "I told you so"s from everyone and he wouldn't have a moment of peace for the entire rest of the night, if ever.

"Three!"

Romano frowned. Still. There was a reason he'd wanted to do this tonight. He wanted Spain to finally realize that he wasn't just a dumb kid anymore. He'd grown up a lot and Spain had been there through everything, good and bad. For all that Spain was an annoying, oblivious, stupid jerk... He'd been there through everything, a warm strength and support whenever Romano needed it.

"Two!"

How dumb could Spain be? How could he not see what a great couple they would make? If Romano could just kiss him, maybe Spain would realize it and stop being so dense and he'd look at Romano with those big green eyes and he'd put his hand on Romano's cheek and maybe he'd lean in and kiss Romano again, but not before telling Romano that he loved him too and --

"One!"

Damnit! Where was Spain?

"Happy New Year!"

Romano felt a warm hand on his shoulder, spinning him around. The hand slid up to his face, brushing across the line of his collarbone as it went, a fingertip barely ghosting against the corner of his mouth before settling over the curve of his cheek. All Romano saw was that tantalizing grin and those so-familiar green eyes before Spain's lips were on his, slow, chapped, insistent and still smiling as they molded against Romano's own perpetual frown.

It was over quicker than Romano would have liked, but Spain's hand didn't move away even as his lips did, and his other hand snaked its way around Romano's waist, pulling him even closer so that they were chest to chest. Romano wondered if Spain could feel his heart pounding through their shirts and jackets.

"Happy New Year, Romano!" Spain said cheerfully, as if he hadn't just kissed Romano in the middle of everything.

Romano shoved him away, but for once couldn't think of a single thing to say to shout at the stupid, oblivious bastard.

Spain laughed and ruffled his hair and Romano finally found something to say. "Stop that! Where were you?"

"Well, I was with France and Prussia," Spain said. "But then I saw you come out from behind that tree and so I was following you while you wandered around the room! I was so glad I found you, since I wanted to give you your New Year's kiss. I was really nervous when I couldn't find you beforehand." Oh, god. Romano was going to headbutt that idiot tomato bastard. "What were you looking for?"

"I was looking for you, bastard! I couldn't find you and you completely ruined my plan to kiss you at midnight!" Romano yelled.

"But I kissed you," Spain said. "Isn't that pretty much the same?"

"Of course not!" Romano fumed. "It's not the same at all! I had this whole plan worked out and I was going to kiss you so that you'd finally figure out that I lo- liked you."

Spain's smile brightened. "Wow! That was my plan too! I guess it's true what they say about great minds thinking alike, huh?"

That was it. Romano punched him.

Spain's smile didn't falter, though he rubbed the place on his jaw where Romano's fist had connected. "So I guess that means you like me too?"

For some reason a simple response like "You're such an idiot" just didn't seem good enough, so Romano leaned in and kissed him. Their second kiss was wildly different than their first. The first kiss had been a Spain kiss, gentle, lazy, warm and brief. This was a Romano kiss.

Romano's lips crashed against Spain's, painfully at first, but he eased off the pressure quickly, finding something comfortable but not calm. His hands were on Spain's neck, then twisting in Spain's hair. Spain's lips slid open, more from surprise than in any sort of inviting gesture, but Romano took advantage and nipped at Spain's lower lip as if to scold him for not opening his mouth sooner. There was no battle for dominance or anything like that because, much to Romano's embarrassment, the moment Spain tilted his head and began to properly respond to the kiss, Romano felt his heart flutter and his knees go weak. Spain was ready, a supportive arm around Romano's waist. Sometimes Romano forgot things about Spain, like the way he was strong enough to support Romano's weight without a thought, or the fact that he was the country of passion, which meant that apparently also meant that he was the country of really amazing kisses. Spain was very good at reminding him of these things, though. Very, very good.

Spain pulled away abruptly, and Romano was embarrassed to hear a low moan escape his treacherous mouth. Spain didn't seem to notice, though. His focus was on a faint clicking noise that seemed to be coming from Japan. It took a moment for Romano's brain to catch up with the fact that Japan was holding a camera and oh god, there were going to be pictures all over Japan's blog tomorrow, wasn't there?

"My apologies," Japan murmured politely. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"It's about time that we get going anyways," Spain said, beaming. "Unless you wanted to stay longer, Romano?"

Suddenly, Romano wished that something interesting had happened at the party. That way, tomorrow it would have been "Hey, did you hear that Norway's hair caught on fire and when Denmark threw his cup of punch on his head to put out the fire, his head exploded because someone spiked the punch?" instead of "Whoa, did you see those pictures of Spain and Romano making out?"

Well. It was still early. Something like that would probably happen before the night ended. It was probably best to be out of the way when it happened.

"We're leaving," Romano said decisively. He stormed out, briefly looking back to make sure Spain would follow. "Come on, you jerk. You still have to make up for ruining my New Years plan!"

Spain followed quickly, eyes so completely locked on Romano's retreating form. It was already shaping up to be a very, very good year.