Because America x South Italy is my anti-drug. Nation/human names used.
Disclaimer-I don't own Hetalia: Axis powers.
Stargazing
America is confused; very confused to be exact.
He doesn't know why he and the southern half of Italy are currently resting atop the roof of his home in San Francisco but he's really not complaining. Romano really doesn't like to spend a lot of quality time with him, either because he doesn't want to or he doesn't want to admit that he likes it. America's going to go with the latter, especially after what North Italy had told him a few days ago.
"Ve~ Big brother really misses you when you're not around America! He talks about you all the time-OW! Fratello, why'd you throw that at me?"
America reclines back on his elbows, resting the soles of his feet on his chimney. He glances over to the older of the Italy brothers and observes his body language. The Italian is sitting with his knees to his chest, his arms draped over them and his chin resting in the space between his tightly drawn legs. His expression is soft and his hazel eyes are looking to the night sky.
America indulges himself at the sight of his silent lover and jumps a little when those hazel eyes turn his way. The half-nation opens his mouth as if he wants to say something and almost does, but his face contorts into an annoyed expression and he looks to the stars once more. America is just confused but then realization dawns on him.
How did they end up here anyway?
…Flashback…
"United States of America, that has to be the dumbest thing that you have ever suggested to me."
America stares pleadingly at his twin brother. This idea is one of the best that he's ever had but no one wants to go with him on this one. Sure his attempts to cure mad cow disease a few years ago didn't go over too well with the other nations, and his swine flu cure didn't exact cure swine flu, but this plan would work.
This plan is EPIC.
"Mattie, it'll work because we're awesome like that; mostly me though but you're still pretty freaking awesome too." Canada just rolls his eyes at his brother.
"No means no Alfred. I've told you time and time again that it won't work and when it fails, Arthur will kill us and Francis won't do anything to stop him." Matthew quickly states. He folds his arms over his chest and looks away, knowing that his brother is pouting right now. He spares a glance once more to the nation in front of him but turns away before they can make eye contact. America is giving him the Infamous Eyes but Canada resists. The two brothers stand in the middle of America's den, one trying to bend the other to his will and the other using sheer willpower to ignore the Infamous Eyes.
The battle between the two brothers wages on until Alfred backs up ad rubs at his eyes. Matthew takes this time to peek over at his brother now that the Eyes have gone. A loud SLAM! of America's front door startles the two brothers and they both jump into defensive stances, Canada wielding his lucky hockey stick and America brandishing his favorite M-16 rifle.
Hard, livid stomps approach the living room and the brothers hold their weapons at the ready. A low muttering sound fills the silent air and America lowers his M-16. Canada looks to his brother but keeps his guard up. Before he can even speak, an irritated Romano comes stomping into the room, angrily mumbling to himself. The North American brothers catch the sight of the familiar face and lower their weapons. Romano's hazel eyes dart around the room furiously before he locks gazes with America's azure eyes.
"You. Follow me."
South Italy stomps past America into his kitchen, expecting the clueless blonde to follow. America puts the safety on his gun and hops over the couch he was using as cover, catching up to the hot-headed Italian. Halfway into the kitchen doorway, Romano stops and looks over his shoulder, looking to Canada.
"My idiot brother's looking for you." And with that, Romano leads off to wherever he wants to take America.
Canada flips over America's couch and picks up the phone.
…End of Flashback…
Which brings them to the present.
America busies himself with the hem of his t-shirt because he really doesn't want to bother Romano. The Italian's lost himself in the stars and the American wants to leave him be but the atmosphere feels so heavy around them and the England in him doesn't want to poke into his business. He's never seen this side of Romano before, this soft and somber side and they've been together for half a year now.
Alfred pulls at a loose string on his shirt and goes back to his thoughts. He wants to ask what's wrong but he knows he won't get a straight answer. In some ways Lovino acts just like England; he doesn't know how to express his emotions. The France in America wants to know but if he does ask him, Romano might get defensive and block him out completely or yell and push him off the roof.
America is not in the mood for falling.
So finally, America works up the courage to just find out what's wrong with his Italian lover because he can't stand to see Romano in such a dark mood, darker than he's used to that is. He adjusts his foothold on the chimney, pushing himself into a sitting position on the roof. He turns to Romano and his blue eyes meet those subdued hazel orbs. The two stare at each other for what seems like forever before South Italy reaches over and punches America in the head.
"OW! What was that for?" The blonde yells, rubbing his abused head. South Italy is glaring at the American but his blushing face gives way to his embarrassment.
"Q-quit all that damn staring, bastard!" America pouts and turns away; so much for that plan. The two turn their separate ways and endure another silence spell but it doesn't last long.
"Oi, America."
Alfred answers but doesn't meet his gaze. "What?"
The question hangs unanswered in the air between them so America looks over to see if Romano is still with him. The Italian is fidgeting with his hands nervously and biting on his lower lip, making America cock an eyebrow at the weird behavior. Once again South Italy addresses him but it's in a voice so low, America has to strain his ears to hear him.
"Y-you won't forget about me…will you?"
America sits up straight, his oncoming headache momentarily forgotten. He wasn't expecting that question.
He could hear the surprise in his voice as he spoke, "Forget you? Where'd you get that idea from?" Romano sighs deeply and looks up to the sky once more, drawing his knees closer to his chest and crossing his arms on top of them.
"Veneziano told me that he had a dream that the dirty macho-potato bastard had forgotten about him and I told him that he didn't need that damn spud-muncher anyway. Then he asked me how would I feel if you forgot about me and I thought…you know, never mind this shit."
Romano makes to get up and leave, but America's arms around his shoulders keep him rooted to the roof. The American pulls Romano into his embrace and tightens it when the half-nation attempts to push him away. After a few more tries, Romano sees that his fight is futile and gives up, leaning into the younger nation's arms.
America pulls away and rests his forehead on top of Romano's, meeting that hazel gaze straight on. "You really think I'd forget about you?" Romano averts his gaze from those endlessly blue eyes and scowls while fighting down his embarrassment. He knew he shouldn't have asked that damn question; this was all his stupid, idiot brother's fault.
"It was just a damn question." The half nation mutters. America chuckles and Lovino pries himself out of the younger nation's grip and meets those clear azure eyes once more, anger overcoming his awkwardness.
"What the fuck's so funny? I just wanted you to answer the damn question, that's all. You fail to remember your twin brother all the time so how do I know you won't overlook me?"
America pulls him back closer and their foreheads meet again. "Mattie knows that I don't forget him on purpose and we're spending more time together so he's committed to my memory."
Romano scoffs and opens his mouth to retort when America swoops in and captures his lips in a kiss. Alfred plants his feet firmly against the chimney in order to keep them from sliding off while Romano wraps his arms around America's neck for support. They break apart before they get too carried away and Lovino scowls at the blonde next to him. All he wanted was an answer to his question, not because he wanted to know what the bastard thought of him obviously, but he just wanted to know that someone…cared for him.
Alfred reads the look on Lovino's face and chuckles once more, pulling him in to plant a kiss on his forehead. He lays down against the roof with Lovino resting right beside him, letting his hazel eyes drift to the night sky once more. America rolls over onto his side, propping himself up with his elbows and gazes at Romano.
"It'll be hard to forget the one person I truly love."
Ignoring the heat rising to his cheeks, America sits back and admires the stars in Romano's eyes.