Based on this ask marinovannyeogurchiki got about Norway/Romano.
I took it as a challenge... enjoy?
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He's rather loud, very rude and prone to outbursts of anger.
Norway can't say he likes either of those vices in a person, but it doesn't necessarily stop him from hanging around Romano either.
The southern nation makes an amazing cup of coffee – and Norway can put up with a lot if there's good coffee involved.
“And then he tried to make me look like the idiot!” Romano gestured wildly, once more ranting about either his neighbour or Germany. Norway stopped listening to exactly who the conversation and anger is geared towards this time a good half an hour ago – choosing to instead just enjoy the warm summer evening and the very good red wine in his glass.
“Can you believe it? That bastard making a fool out of me!?” Romano isn't really looking for an answer, so Norway just makes a non-committal grunt before taking another sip of wine and blocking out Romano's childish rant about what is now probably about his brother.
“Are you even listening to me?” Romano turns towards Norway and glares – which isn't at all threatening, especially not when Romano's lips are stained red and his cheeks flushed from the copious amount of wine.
“Not really,” Norway replies truthfully, swirling the wine around in his glass and flashing Romano a sly smirk.
“You bastard,” Romano grumbles.
“Yeah, yeah. Bastard, fucker, potato lover... you can re-use all your insults for Germany on us Nordics too, we get it... Would it kill you to be more creative?” Norway sighs deeply.
“Are you calling me uncreative?!” Romano almost screams at him, and Norway almost looses his composure – it's far too easy to rile the Southern part of Italy up and it amuses him to no end.
“Maybe,” Norway shrugs and reaches for the wine bottle, humming happily to himself as he pours himself another glass. He can practically see the smoke coming out from Romano's ears and he so wishes he could film this moment.
“I invite you here. Let you drink my wine and coffee, and you insult me?!” Romano almost knocks his own glass over as he swings his arms back and forth. Norway wonders for a moment how many things get broken in the average Italian household due to hand gestures.
“Not an insult. An observation,” Norway corrects and sips his wine peacefully, successfully keeping his cool even if Romano is close to bursting.
“I should kill you,” Romano hisses.
“With what?” Norway asks. “You're too fond of your food and wine to poison me. I doubt you can even get close to me with any sharp weapon and guns really do not suit you...”
“I-I.. I'll think of a way!” Romano glares at him.
“Of course you will. How's those plans to separate your brother and Germany going then?” Norway smirks as Romano visibly deflates in defeat. There's too much wine in his system to be of any significant threat to Norway anyway.
“Not too good,” Romano mumbles. “Germany just ignores me...”
“I see...” Norway nods in understanding. He's heard this before too.
“I tried to embarrass him but it just backfires...”
“Mhm,” Norway grunts in reply. Perhaps one day Romano will stop and think his plans through a little more, but so far history just keeps repeating itself.
“He's laughing at me as I speak, I just know it!”
“Actually I'm pretty sure he's asleep,” Norway glances at his wrist watch. “It's almost midnight.”
“How do you know he's asleep? Maybe he's laughing about me while drinking his nasty beer!”
“I really doubt that,” Norway chuckles. “Germany tends to be in bed by 10pm sharp unless Prussia dragged him out drinking with Denmark. And I can promise you they don't talk about you...”
“They don't?” Romano manages to sound both relieved and disappointed at this new information.
“Yeah,” Norway finishes his wine and stands up slowly from his chair, stretching his arms over his head and sighing as his back makes a satisfying crack – some parts of him seems to age faster than others.
“They tend to tell bad jokes and dare one another to stupid stunts.”
“They do?” Romano's eyes light up in glee. “What kind of things?”
“Oh I couldn't tell you,” Norway chuckles darkly. “Such information is reserved for myself and my blackmail folder.”
“You have a blackmail folder?”
“Of course I do,” Norway smirks. “Why wouldn't I have one?”
“Well... I don't know...” Romano shrugs, pondering Norway's words for a moment. “Can I maybe see this folder?”
“Maybe,” Norway replies. “But it's gonna cost you.”
“I'm sure I can find some... payment,” Romano smirks in return.
“A cup of coffee and some bottles of wine won't cut it,” Norway laughs. “But it's maybe a start.”
“True Italian hospitality doesn’t end here,” Romano reminds him before he stands up and offers his hand to Norway. “After all... the enemy of my enemy is my friend.”
“Hey, I don't think you can call Germany my enemy,” Norway stifles a laugh.
“But making a fool out of him?”
“Oh that I enjoy doing to anyone,” Norway smiles wickedly, and Romano shivers.
“Well... how about a partnership to reach this goal then?”
“Hmm...” Norway regards the offer before he shakes Romano's hand firmly. “Sure. This one time I suppose...”
“Fantastic,” Romano smiles with childish glee and kisses the back of Norway's hand tenderly. “You'll be sure to not regret it.”
“Obviously,” Norway replies with amusement, wondering if it's rude to pat his head and tell him he's being far too cute for his own good now.
Best not to, Norway decides as Romano practically skips back inside the house.
He doesn’t want a mopy Italian again.
“You want another espresso?” he hears him call from the kitchen and Norway glances at his wathc once more.
“Of course I do,” he replies. “It's only ,uhh, 11:30... at night. Bring it on.”
“One double espresso coming up,” Romano laughs and Norway just shakes his head.
As if he can turn down Italian coffee make fresh.
“Make it triple,” he says as he brings the empty wine glasses inside and hopes Romano is as immune to caffeine as he is.
