This is another extra gift I wrote for the Prumano Secret Santa event. The recipient is jujunghe and the prompt was cooking.

A BOWL OF POTATO SALAD

"We aren't screwing this up, okay? No stupid tricks."

Prussia pressed his hand on his heart and looked so serious that it was almost comical. Romano would have snorted if he hadn't known how much this whole thing meant to him. Prussia had been the one to suggest this, after all.

"I promise. I'll be on my best behaviour. Not a single slip. It'll be perfect."

"No, that's exactly what I meant. If you're like that, he'll notice something's off. Be normal."

"Normal? How can I be normal when one wrong move could have my head chopped off!"

Now Romano could no longer hold back a smirk. "Is the mighty Prussia scared?" he asked and stopped peeling the potato in his hand.

"Me? Scared? Hahaha, never! I'm just cautious. I've seen what he gets like when he's angry, and he's sure to get angry when we –"

"Who's going to get angry about what?"

Both Romano and Prussia jumped when Spain stepped into the kitchen through the arched entrance, smiling at them and holding a basket full of candy in his arms.

"West!" Prussia blurted out.

"Veneziano!" Romano said at the same time.

Spain looked like he didn't understand anything.

"If West knew what Romano is doing to these potatoes right now, he'd be mad! I think he's violating at least three EU directives on how to handle potatoes before cooking them!" Prussia hurried to explain and grabbed both the knife and the potato from Romano's hands.

"And... and if the bastard got angry, then Veneziano would be upset at me because it was my fault!"

"Huh," Spain said and placed the basket on the counter. "Then I guess it's good they are spending Christmas in Berlin and won't know about this."

"Yeah, totally. It's our secret," Prussia said.

Spain took a chocolate praline from the basket and began unwrapping it. "I'm glad you two are getting along so well. Usually you just fight and insult each other."

"It's the Christmas spirit," Prussia explained.

"Yeah, but I never thought I'd see you cooking together in such harmony. And I have no idea how you convinced Romano to make potato salad for you."

"That's what I've been wondering all day," Romano said, but in reality, it hadn't even taken that much convincing. Prussia liked to eat potato salad and sausages on Christmas, and Romano wanted their first Christmas together to be perfect and happy, so it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what he had to do. It was sappy as hell, but since his brain had already rotted to the point that he was in a relationship with him, what could he do?

"Okay, have fun. I'll go and finish decorating with Belgium," Spain said.

Prussia didn't start breathing normally until Spain was well out of sight. Romano rolled his eyes at him and snatched the knife and the potato back.

"You're being ridiculous," he scolded him. "I don't know why you're making such a show out of this."

"Because I've broken a pact of friendship! Years ago, Spain sat me and France down and told us under very clear terms that if either of us ever touched you, he would take the wildest exaggerations of the Spanish Inquisition he can find and make us think it's a children's bedtime story."

"You didn't seem to give a shit about that pact last week when I was sucking you off. Did you only remember it when I said that I want to tell Spain about us?" Romano let out an angry huff as he finished the potato and reached for another one, not looking at Prussia. "Or were you thinking that we'd just have sex in secret and never tell anyone? Because if that's the kind of relationship you're looking for –"

"Wait, no, no, no! That's not it! Of course I want to tell everybody!" Prussia reached out to put his hands on Romano's hips and rested his head on his shoulder. "And we already told West and Italy, remember? Spain is just a little different."

"How? He's pretty much my brother, like Veneziano."

"Yeah, but Italy has never had me on the floor with a knee on my back and an axe on my neck just because I let slip that I wouldn't mind getting some land on the Mediterranean coast."

"Your stupid mind is still stuck in the past," Romano said, trying not to let Prussia's hands distract him from peeling the potatoes. He only had a few left, and he was finishing this damn dish no matter what. "That was when people were fighting over my lands. Spain's not going to snap you in half just because you're dating me."

"You never know!" Prussia's hands disappeared from around him, and when Romano turned around to see what had got into him, he saw that he had struck a confident pose in the middle of the kitchen. "The danger of conquest is always around me! I wouldn't be surprised if he rounded up his army, just in case. Everyone knows that you had better watch out when Prussia is marching closer."

"Even if that were true, you're forgetting one important thing."

"Yeah? What's that?"

"I haven't belonged to Spain in centuries. He's got no say in whom I date. And I don't need him to kick your ass if you do something stupid. That pleasure is going to be mine only."

Really, Prussia was blowing the whole thing out of proportion. Sure, Spain could be a little over-protective and thick-headed, but he wasn't going to turn this Christmas into a bloodbath just because he and Prussia were together.

"Or do you have something to hide?" he asked. "Because I'm starting to think you're shitting your pants because you know he's got reason to worry."

To be fair, Romano himself had had a lot of doubts when he had realised that he sort of, maybe, kind of was growing interested in Prussia. Prussia was self-centred, irritating and had a reputation of causing trouble wherever he went. One of the things that had made Romano pause before giving this relationship a chance had been his fear that Prussia would just take and not give, but the more he had got to know him, the more obvious it had become that if anything, he should worry about the opposite.

They were spending Christmas at his house in Rome, together with Spain and Belgium. It was a smaller gathering than Romano was used to, but with Veneziano in Berlin and Netherlands in Ottawa, there wasn't much he could do. The amount of food he had cooked was still the same because he figured the safest bet was to factor in Prussia's enormous appetite.

The only thing still missing from their Christmas Eve's dinner was this damn potato salad he had decided to prepare at the last minute.

"You know," Prussia said. "I should just march up to him and tell him that you're mine, no matter what he thinks! That's always the best strategy. Just take what you want and don't let anyone stop you."

"Or you could grab those picked gherkins and cut them into bits so that this thing gets ready before dinner," Romano said, finishing peeling the last potato. Now he'd have to slice them, throw in some cream and cut onions and pepper, and this excuse of a food would be more or less done.

"Are you even listening to what I'm saying?"

"Yeah, but I'm cooking. Even if this is disgusting and will probably make my skin peel off, I'm going to make this right. It'll be the best potato salad you've ever had."

"No distractions, huh?"

Romano didn't have to look at Prussia to know that he was grinning. His voice was thick with mischievous amusement, so he was prepared and stepped to the side just when Prussia tried to grab his chin and turn him around. Then he raised an elbow to warn the other from getting any closer.

"This shit comes first, then you!" he snapped.

"That's what you think!"

Any other time, Romano might have had more patience for Prussia's games, but he didn't like it when people didn't listen to him in his kitchen. How many times did he have to ask before Prussia got off his lazy ass and did what he requested? And as much as he would have liked to give in and let those hands roam all over his body – hell, it was a week since they had last seen each other, and while that was nothing for a nation, it was an eternity for someone who was in a new relationship – he knew that now was not the right moment.

When Prussia made his move and caught his hips to pull him close, Romano reached into the sink and grabbed a handful of the potato peels from earlier. Just when the other was leaning in for a kiss, he shoved the peels at his face, earning a surprised yelp as Prussia jumped back.

"Ha! That's what you get for –" Romano started triumphantly, but that was when he noticed that they weren't alone.

Spain was standing at the entrance, the smile that was frozen on his face slowly twisting and deteriorating. Romano could imagine the cogs inside his head turning as he was making sense of the situation, but he couldn't bring himself to move or say anything. It was as if he had been paralyzed.

The same couldn't be said for Prussia who was sputtering curses and wiping his eyes to get the water and sand out of them. "Just you wait, I'll get you for that – " he began, but his words were cut off when he, too, noticed that they had company. "Oh! Spain! Didn't see you there earlier!"

"I thought I'd come and let you know that we're done with the hallway," Spain said, stepping inside the kitchen. He positioned himself between Romano and Prussia, facing the latter.

Prussia raised his palms in a peaceful gesture. "Listen, that was not what it looked like, I swear!"

"Oh, so now you're going to deny the whole thing?" Romano called out from behind Spain's back. "You were so eager a minute ago, so just own up to it now, bastard!"

"Romano, get out." Spain's voice was like the rumble of a distant thunder storm.

"Huh?"

"I need to have a little chat with Prussia."

And it was then that Romano realised what was really going on, and judging by the growing alarm on Prussia's face, he had caught on, too. So much for their plan to break the news gently. He suppressed an irritated sigh and the urge to shake his head and walked around Spain so that he could look at him.

It was rare to see Spain without a smile on his face. Romano had been close to him for most of his life, and there were only a few occasions when he could remember Spain showing such vicious anger in his presence. Even when he had been sad or had come home bruised and defeated, he had tried to put up a smile for him. He was sure part of it was because that was just the kind of person Spain was, but another part knew he had also tried to protect him from problems that were too big for a young nation to understand.

But Romano wasn't young anymore. He didn't need Spain to act as his guardian.

"No, you don't. And I'm not going anywhere. It's my kitchen."

His words did nothing to change the fury on Spain's features. "But he was going to do things to you! I can't let him get away with trying to hurt you."

"He wasn't trying to hurt me," Romano said, though he could understand why Spain thought so.

"But you pushed him away!"

Romano gave Prussia a nudge with his elbow. "You stop looking like you just peed your pants! Aren't you going to say anything?"

"Huh? Oh, right, right!" Prussia cleared his throat and assumed a more confident pose. "I've taken Romano as my boyfriend! So you've totally misunderstood everything!"

"What?" Spain kept turning his eyes back and forth between the two of them. "Is that true?"

"Yeah," Romano replied. He grabbed Prussia's hand and held it up for Spain to see. "Do you think I'd be touching this bastard otherwise?"

"Hey, how about praising my godlike looks or something? You don't exactly sound like you're in love!" Prussia whined.

"But why didn't you tell me?" Spain asked, frowning in confusion and barely hidden hurt.

"We were waiting for the perfect moment," Prussia said.

"Because he's a chicken and thought you'd disembowel him," Romano replied.

For a moment, nobody said anything. Romano could feel that Prussia was still tense despite the fact that the crisis had been averted. Spain was just staring at the two of them as he processed this new information, but then he moved so fast that even Romano was surprised, even though he had been expecting it.

"I'm so happy for you!" Spain declared and captured them both into a bone-crushing hug. "My Romano is all grown up and mature! And now Prussia no longer has to feel like the odd one out because everyone else has someone! Everything's perfect!"

Spain let go of Romano and moved his hands to Prussia's shoulders. "But you were half-right. Romano is always going to be my cute baby, so if you try any dirty tricks with him, I am going to disembowel you. Even if you're a friend."

"I'd like to see you try!" Prussia said, his confidence returning as he became aware of the fact that the worst was over and that none of his limbs were lying severed on the floor.

"No, you wouldn't, so let's make sure there's never a reason for it, okay?" Spain asked, giving him one final pat on the shoulder before he turned around to observe the still unfinished potato salad on the counter. "Wow, you've made barely any progress! I should probably help you."

"No, go back to Belgium. We'll handle this," Romano said. The potato salad was his special present for Prussia. No way was he letting anyone else touch it, not even Spain.

"Okay, but maybe I can take Prussia with me? I need to tell him that it's not okay to kiss someone when he's not in the mood."

"Tch, like you're some saint in that regard."

"And last time I checked, you were still friends with France and I never see you scold him!" Prussia pointed out.

"Well, he hasn't tried to kiss Romano in a long time."

"Romano is my boyfriend!"

Romano placed his hands on his hips and listened to the two bicker for a while before he decided that he had had enough. It was as if these two fuckers had forgotten that he was there and that his opinion mattered, too.

"Okay, that's enough! You're both getting out of here, and I don't want to see you until it's time for dinner. Make yourself useful while I finish here. And I mean it. I'll ask Belgium if you've been nice or not."

"And what if we aren't nice?" Prussia asked.

"Then you aren't getting any presents tomorrow."

"What, not even one?"

"None!"

"I think we should go," Spain said, grabbing Prussia's arm. "It sounds like Romano is a little stressed because of Christmas. Let's go and plan him a surprise that'll cheer him up."

Romano swallowed a comment about how it wasn't a surprise if he knew about it in advance because he knew that the only way to get the two out was to let them go along with their stupid plans. As expected, the promise of getting to be up to no good caught Prussia's interest right away, and he and Spain left the kitchen together, throwing all-knowing, smug looks into his direction, like he hadn't just heard what they were up to.

"Idiots," he muttered and went back to finishing his work.

He was finally done. Romano wiped his hands on his apron and eyed the bowl of potato salad with a mixture of satisfaction and disgust. He was sure it was the best damn potato salad Prussia would ever taste in his life. He couldn't wait to see his eyes light up when he tried it.

"Yoo-hoo!" came a call from the door. "I'm back!"

"I thought I said I didn't want to see you before dinner."

"I figured you must have changed your mind by now. You miss me, right?"

"It's been half an hour."

"Yeah, exactly my point. You must be going crazy without me."

Prussia stepped into the kitchen, hands hidden behind his back. Romano didn't bother asking what he was holding there. He was sure the other would let him know soon enough anyway. Prussia was terrible at keeping secrets for long.

"How did it go with Spain?" Romano asked.

"Pretty well. He gave me a detailed list of what he'll do to me if I hurt you but let me know that we'd still be friends, no matter what."

"Whatever he told you pales in comparison to what I'll do to you if you hurt me," Romano said.

"Oh? And what will you do?"

"Not telling. Pray that you'll never find out."

"Aww, stop being so grumpy." Prussia closed the distance between them, and suddenly his hands were on Romano's hips. So, they had been empty all along, and he had just pretended to be holding something so that he wouldn't move aside. Sneaky bastard. But maybe he'd let it slide this time because being held that way did feel pretty nice.

And then Prussia had to go and ruin it by removing one of his hands to draw the bowl of potato salad closer.

"Hey, it's done! Let me try it!"

"Forget it!" Romano snapped and shoved Prussia's hand away right before he had the time to stick his finger into the dish.

"But I thought it was for me!" Prussia complained when Romano grabbed the bowl and put it in the fridge, well away from his reach.

"One, it's not dinner time yet." Romano turned back to Prussia and grabbed the front of his shirt, then pushed him against the kitchen counter and settled between his knees. He leaned in to claim Prussia's lips in a kiss, eager and hot and ready, and tried not to smirk at the surprised mewl that this earned.

He pulled back and tried not to groan at what Prussia's hands were doing to him below his waist. He still needed his voice for talking. "And two, you can't expect any of this once you've put that shit into your mouth."

"So it's a choice between you and the potato salad?"

"Yeah, and don't you dare pick wrong!"

"Don't worry. I know good potato salad when I see some." Just as Romano was wondering if he should reward Prussia with a knee to the crotch for his irritating blabbering, he continued, "But you're looking pretty damn delicious right now, too. I guess I'll take you now and have the salad for dessert!"

"Good choice," Romano grumbled, and once he went in for another kiss, neither of them thought about food for a good while.