Siesta
Summary: All Romano wanted was to relax and take a nice siesta. Too bad for him, Spain apparently isn't planning on letting that happen. Spamano~
A/N: I love Spamano. Truly, I do. I hope you do too, because this is what I've got. Enjoy the SPamano fluffiness~
Warning: Romano has a filthy mouth, dammit!
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia D:
=X=
Romano blinked his eyes lazily and yawned. It was nearing midday. This meant the hottest part of the day, and signalled to the Italian's body-clock that it was time for a siesta.
Romano liked his siestas. He had a plenty nice, big, warm house, with soft furniture. The sofa, his bed, as long as it was comfortable he'd nap there. Although admittedly he usually ended up back on his sofa, it really didn't matter to him as long as he could sleep well there. After sleeping through midday, he'd wake up and simply lie still until hunger pressed him to move and make himself lunch. Usually some pasta, a homemade Bolognese and a tomato or two. And then he'd have a lazy day to himself.
Well, that was his paradise version. Usually something happened to interrupt the peace he tried to get – Veneziano bursting it, occasionally with that potato bastard in tow, or Spain. He couldn't decide which he hated most (well, Germany obviously, but after him Spain and Veneziano were equal annoyances).
Scowling slightly as he thought of the unfortunately likely prospect of broken peace, Romano yawned again and stretched his body out. His eyelids were beginning to get heavy, so he settled himself on his soft white sofa, pulling a cushion under his head, curled his knees to his chest, and closed his eyes. He exhaled heavily, a small smile pulling on his lips.
Ah, bello, tranquille siesta... he thought, allowing his mind to relax and drift to darkness.
"Hola~!"
Romano groaned loudly and screwed up his face. Not what he needed right now. Please go away, please go away...
"Lovi~ I'm coming in now!" Spain's annoying voice sounded again, though he sounded like he was already in the hallway anyway. Romano heard the door to his front room open, and decided to desperately pretend to be asleep in the hope the Spaniard would go away.
Spain's footsteps came closer and closer, and he cooed Romano's human name (And not just his name, but Spain's annoying nickname for him. How many times had he specifically told the older nation NOT to call him Lovi?) quietly the whole way. Eventually he stopped in front of Romano and knelt down. He was silent for a few moments.
"...I know you're not asleep Lovino. You don't frown in your sleep."
Cazzo.
"How the fuck would you know what I look like when I sleep, bastardo?" Romano snapped as he forced his eyes open and propped himself up on one elbow.
"I've watched you sleep once or twice before when you've come around my house. You look really cute." Spain chirped happily, scanning over the Italian with happy, green eyes.
I quite like his eyes... Romano thought, then scolded himself. Now was not the time to start thinking about how bright and beautiful Spain's eyes most definitely weren't.
"Do you realize how much of a creeper that makes you sound idiota?" he muttered.
"Silly Lovino."
"Don't call me that." Romano hissed, now resigning himself to swinging his legs off the sofa and pushing himself into a lazy sitting position. "Now what the fuck do you even want? I'm trying to take a siesta here."
"Ah~, it occurred to me, we haven't seen each other in a while, I thought I'd come over and have lunch with you!" Spain smiled, sitting down next to Romano.
"You can't just invite yourself over to someone else's house for lunch, bastardo! Besides, I eat my lunch later; I sleep through midday. I thought you did too."
"Yes, but I sleep after eating." The Spaniard chuckled. "It's weird to nap before eating."
"Zitto, idiota." Romano growled. "I've just got used to it. I like sleeping earlier and for longer."
Romano was blushing slightly at his custom being called 'weird'. It wasn't weird! He'd just gotten so used to coming home too exhausted to make himself food before his siesta, and now it had just become a habit of his...
"Haha, don't look so embarrassed about it Lovi~! Think about it, England and that don't sleep at all during the day." Spain laughed at Romano's embarrassment. His blush was very cute.
"That is weird." The Italian muttered eventually. Then he shot a glare at Spain. "Dammit, bastard, you're screwing with my body clock!"
Spain just laughed again, and ruffled Romano's hair.
"So cute! Come on, let go eat!" he exclaimed, pulling Romano up by his wrist and dragging the groggy, grumbling, still half-asleep country to his kitchen.
"Damn, Spain, you bastard! Go home! I want to sleep!"
"No, Lovino~! We need to spend more time together!"
"Why right now? In fact, why ever, god dammit! Is it too much to ask to just be left alone for a few days?" Romano ranted.
"I miss having you around all the time~!" Spain cried, deciding that now would be the perfect time to pull the cross Italian to his chest. This obviously did not help aforementioned Italian's mood.
"Let me go, dammit!" he cursed, wriggling desperately for his freedom.
"Ah~ but Lovino~ I haven't held you for so long!" Spain wasn't loosening his grip anytime soon. "And did you know you smell really nice? Like tomatoes and pasta~!"
"Why are you smelling me, creeper bastard! Let me go! You stink of tomatoes and your damn churros." Romano shouted, pushing at Spain chest to force a gap between them. Spain just crushed him harder.
"You're still feisty! You always were an aggressive little niño. But you've grown so much since then! You're only a head shorter than me now-oof!"
Spain's little speech was cut off when Romano punched him hard in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. This made him release the temperamental Italian he had been cuddling and double over.
"Bastardo, I said get off. And I'm not that short." Romano huffed. Sure, he only came up to Spain's shoulders, meaning he always had to look up to meet Spain's eyes, but that wasn't because he was small! It was because Spain was a freak! Yeah.
"Ah, that hurt a bit. You have quite the punch Lovi~" Spain chuckled. Dammit! Romano thought Why is he still smiling when I just punched him? Idiota...
"Hmm, tomatoes..." Spain recovered himself and started searching through Romano's fridge.
"In the bottom, idiota." Romano told him, rolling his eyes and sitting himself at the table. He crossed his arms and laid his head in them, absentmindedly staring at Spain's back. He didn't notice that he was starting to doze off until Spain started poking him, laughing.
"Lovi~ no falling asleep now! Here, have a tomato."
Romano scowled, took the red fruit in one hand, then closed his eyes again. He heard Spain laugh again. Then, he started ruffling and playing with his hair. This made Romano open his eyes immediately and keep a guarded eye on the Spaniard. For some reason, Spain had a fixation with his hair and... his curl.
Of course, Spain had never really known about the reason behind the violent reaction Romano had when his curl was touched. At first, he'd thought he might have pulled it or patted too hard, so he decided that being gentler would help. It didn't, really; the curl was sensitive, and although if pulled or tangled in something could cause pain, usually that wasn't what happened. Especially when Spain would gently stroke it.
And, obviously, because Romano's luck totally sucked today, the curl was what Spain now brushed his fingers against. In one instant, several things happened: Romano went a bright red, Romano jumped out of his seat, and Spain ended up on the floor with tomato all over his face.
"Merda! Bastardo! How many times have I told you not to touch there? Do you listen? You're such a fucking pervert, you still are! Cazzo!" Romano yelled at the fallen Spanish man. For a few moments he stood there shaking, still feeling his face hot with a bright blush, before he cursed a final time and stormed out of the kitchen and ran up the stairs.
Spain groaned and wiped tomato mush out of his eyes. He frowned and sat up, sucking his fingers and licking as much of the tomato off his face as possible. What could have caused Romano's anger this time? Spain pouted as he thought. He didn't think he'd done anything wrong... what had he been doing? He'd been playing with Romano's hair... oh!
"Ah~ I've touched his curl! That must be why he went red! Haha~ I love his blush..." Spain said aloud to himself. He looked up to the ceiling, knowing that Romano was now on the top floor somewhere. He hummed, then picked himself up, using a towel to wipe the remainder of tomato off his face.
"Lovi~! Lovi, mi amor~!" Spain called as he slowly climbed the stairs. He knew Romano would be in his room, but still wanted to see if he got a response. The temperamental Italian stayed silent. Spain creeped slowly closer to the door, and peeked his head around it.
Romano was curled up on his bed, a pillow covering his face, muttering quietly in Italian.
"Lovi~, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to, really!" He apologised softly. Romano briefly lifted the pillow off his face – it was still tinged pink – before he scowled again and turned so his back was to Spain. The older country pouted and walked over to sit next to him.
"Fuck off, idiota." Romano muttered. Spain placed a warm hand on Romano's hip, rested his weight on the other, and leaned over to try and see the Italian's face. Romano's eyes shifted, caught sight of Spain, and then he turned his head so he was face-first in the duvets, blush brightening. Spain laughed, thinking how cute his little Lovi was.
"H-h-hey! Personal space, bastardo!" his voice was muffled. "Get your hand off me!"
"Aww, Lovi, don't be sore! Come on, I said I was sorry~!" Spain whined, pouting slightly. Romano risked a peek at him, but quickly hid his face again.
"Goddammit all I wanted to do was sleep! I'm tired, okay? Leave me the hell alone, bastard."
"Okay then!" Spain chirped. "Instead of eating lunch together, we'll siesta together!"
"W-what? Fuck, what is wrong with you, I mean seriously idio-" Romano started to ramble, but was cut off in surprise when Spain lay down next to him and spooned up close, wrapping his arms around the Italian's waist. "H-h-hey! Idiota! G-get off, Spain, g-goddamn..."
Spain chuckled quietly into his ear, making the shaking Romano freeze up instantly.
"You're so cute when you get all flustered, you know that, mi querido tomate?" the Spaniard breathed into his ear, voice soft and deep. Romano shuddered.
"I-idiota...g-get off..." he stuttered.
"Mmm, but you're warm, and cuddly." Spain muttered.
"D-dammit bastard..."
"Just relax, mi amor. You're tired, remember?" Romano's eyes narrowed at Spain's teasing tone. He jerked his elbow back, jabbing the Spaniard in the ribs then wrenching himself out of his grasp.
"All I wanted was a peaceful siesta without idiots like you or my fucking brother barging in! Just one, one day, I wanted to do it myself, I was meant to be getting the courage to call you and invite you over later, but no, you can't even wait until I ask you, and now I'm not ready, and I don't like it, and-" Romano stopped suddenly, realising what he'd just said. "Oh merda."
Spain blinked up at him with big, bright green eyes, eyes that fuck it, he absolutely fucking adored dammit. Romano scowled at him, and crossed his arms defensively. Then Spain smiled.
"Ah~ mi-"
"No, shut up." Romano huffed, and leant quickly forward to capture Spain's lips with his own, his hands gripping the older nation's shoulders tightly. He pulled his face away, face scrunched up in embarrassment and frustration and fear. He spoke fast, words tumbling from his mouth in a rush. "Ti amo dannazione. Ti amo, idiota, pomadoro bastardo, io cazzo ti amo."
Romano stayed frozen, fearing the worst, not daring to look. However, when he felt a gentle, warm hand cradling his cheek, softly caressing his skin, he slowly opened his eyes. Golden-olive met emerald green, starting to shine with scared tears, and green lit up with a smile.
"Te amo demasiado, mi Romano." Spain said softly. A single tear dropped down Romano's cheek, and Spain brushed it away with a thumb. "Hey, hey." He continued comfortingly with a chuckle "Aren't you meant to be happy?"
Romano buried his face in Spain's shoulder.
"I am, dammit. So- oh goddamn." Romano's voice broke slightly. "Damn, damn, damn. I'm so-no, wait, I'm not. You bastard! I was so scared! Don't fucking do that to me again, just...dammit."
Spain pulled the Italian back and kissed him deeply, tasting the salt of tears on his lips. Romano made a small noise in the back of his throat and fisted Spain's hair, melting into the kiss as the Spaniard wrapped his arms around the smaller country. The two broke apart, breathless, and simply stared at each other.
"Te amo, Romano."
"Ti amo, bastardo."
"Meany."
"Idiot."
Spain grinned, and Romano returned it with a small smile of his own.
"Now, about that siesta~?" Spain smiled. Romano rolled his eyes.
"Yes. Though you've probably fucked up my body-clock big time." Romano muttered at him, making the Spaniard laugh affectionately.
"Ahh, Lovi~."
"Hey, when did I say you could call me that?"
"Um..."
"Never, that's when." Romano told him. They lay down together, Romano facing Spain, pressed flush against him, face nuzzled into his chest. Then he muttered quietly. "Okay, now I say you can call me that."
Spain's laugh rumbled through his chest, loud against Romano's ear.
"Dormir bien, mi Lovi."
"Dormire bene...mio Spagna."
=X=
A/N: You have no idea how long I have been typing this for on and off xD
Anyway, Spamano is my Hetalia OTP. They're so cute :D
So yes, pointless Spamano fluffiness. Hope you like it. Ciao.
Translations:
Spanish:
Hola: Hello
Mi amor: My love
Niño: Child
Mi querido tomate: My dear tomato
Te amo demasiado, mi Romano: I love you too, my Romano
Dormir bien, mi Lovi: Sleep well, my Lovi
Italian:
Bello, tranquille siesta: Lovely, quiet siesta...
Cazzo: Fuck
Idiota: Idiot
Bastardo: Bastard
Merda: Shit
Ti amo dannazione. Ti amo, idiota, pomadoro bastardo, io cazzo ti amo: I love you dammit. I love you, idiot, tomato bastard, I fucking love you.
Dormire bene... mio Spagna: Sleep well... my Spain.