((A/N: Written for my Romano for her birthday. ~3 Hope you enjoy it.))

This wasn't the first time that Antonio had left him.

In fact, Lovino had completely lost count of the number of times that Antonio had abandoned him. Always, the man was running off to do something or another and Lovino found himself alone with his brother, which wasn't at all the company that he wanted to be in.

But this time, Lovino couldn't handle watching Antonio leave. He was dressed for war, Lovino thought, with his breastplate and his shining helmet, bright colors surrounding him. And war never ended well for anyone. That much Lovino knew after living so long as being the main conquest of wars. So it really shouldn't have been a surprise to anyone that Lovino disliked the idea of Antonio going to conquer things - in fact, he was even calling himself a Conquistador, which irritated Lovino to no end.

So it was that Lovino found himself hiding in the room he often shared with the Spaniard, curled up around a pillow that Antonio had only been using last night, face buried in it and breathing deeply, feeling better with each whiff of Antonio's scent. The smell made him feel like Antonio wasn't on that boat right now, sailing off to the Americas. Ha! The Americas! Such a ridiculous place! But everyone had taken such a stupid interest in it lately. Lovino hated that too…

Without meaning to, Lovino began to doze, simply sitting there, holding the pillow, head resting on it comfortably.

He didn't hear when the door opened. Or feel when the bed depressed and a body slipped into it next to him. Nor did he notice the arm that wrapped around him and pulled him close to a strong, warm chest that smelled very much like the pillow he was clinging to like a lifeline.

When Lovino awoke, it took him a few moments to realize that he wasn't alone. When he did, it took another few moments before he reacted at all, at first quite pleased with the warmth and the smell and the feel of Antonio pressed to his ba--

"What the hell?!" he suddenly shouted, flailing and managing to get away from Antonio, rolling off of the edge of the bed in the process. Peeking over the corner, he stared at a very bemused, newly woken Antonio, who rubbed his eyes and smiled lazily at Lovino.

"There's no need to be so upset, Lovi," he muttered, sitting up and moving off of the bed on the other side, heading straight to a pile of armor that Lovino recognized as the Conquistador outfit that he hated so much. He scowled at seeing it, but didn't deem Antonio's words worthy of a response of any kind.

Deftly, Antonio began to pull his armor on. "I didn't see you at the dock, so I delayed the departure," he said idly, by way of an explanation for his presence there. "I thought you'd fallen asleep and missed the time on accident. I don't feel right leaving when you're not there."

Frowning, Lovino shook his head. "I missed it on purpose, jackass," he said, standing up and tossing the pillow (which had fallen off of the bed with him) at Antonio, hitting the Spaniard square in the back. "You think I give a shit if you're leaving?" Huffing Lovino turned to head out the door.

But it was at that moment that Lovino realized Antonio hadn't moved since he had been hit with the pillow. He held his helmet about a foot above his head, hovering there rather than lowering it down and settling it into place. Suddenly confused, Lovino stopped and looked at him. "What's wrong?" he asked, and then flushed a moment later for having asked.

"Nothing," Antonio replied, finally placing the helmet on his head.

Seeing Antonio like that so close - dressed like he was going off to war, and leaving Lovino behind again - snapped something inside of the boy. And, quite suddenly, Antonio found himself pinned to the ground by the small Italian, who was yanking his armor off of him, starting with the helmet.

"D-don't wear this st-stupid outfit!" Lovino was saying, tears forming in his eyes, though they didn't fall. The breastplate and bracers soon followed. And within minutes, Antonio was left in only his baggy white shirt and tight black pants that he wore underneath all of the armor. Lovino was lying on his chest, panting and clinging to the cotton shirt. "I fucking hate that armor," he breathed out.

Antonio was stunned. He couldn't for the life of him think of anything to say. So instead of speaking, he wrapped his arms around the boy lying on top of him and hugged him tightly.

This simple act seemed to snap Lovino out of the haze of anger and hurt he had fallen into and he suddenly stiffened. "Let go of me," he said tersely, trying to push away from the Spaniard. But Antonio refused to release his hold of the boy.

"No," he replied softly. "Not until you--" He was cut off suddenly as the top of a head slammed into his chin, causing spots to appear in his vision and his teeth to nearly chop off his tongue. Reeling from the blow, he loosened his hold on Lovino, allowing the Italian to scramble out of his grasp and bolt out the door, leaving Antonio to clutch at his aching chin and wonder why Lovino was so very angry with him…

***

That night, as Lovino was lying in bed, trying to force himself to fall asleep, a dark silhouette appeared in the door, nearly startling him before he realized that it was Antonio. The Spaniard leaned in the doorway, watching Lovino, obviously thinking that the Italian was asleep. Huffing angrily, Lovino sat up and glared at Antonio. "What the hell do you want, jackass?" he asked, crossing his arms and looking displeased.

Antonio didn't answer. He simply stood there, watching Lovino.

After a few moments, Lovino began to feel awkward. He shifted uncomfortably and looked away. "Seriously, what--"

"Why don't you want to see me off?"

Antonio's voice was so soft that at first Lovino was sure he had imagined it. But he knew that he hadn't; knew that Antonio had wanted to ask this question earlier too; knew that it was going to come to this, and he wouldn't be able to say what he wanted to. Because Lovino had never been able to admit his feelings to Antonio. That's just how it went, and the relationship seemed to work really well that way.

"I just don't give a shit," he replied haughtily, looking away. "That's a--"

He was getting tired of being interrupted. Really, he was. But this time, the interruption was far worse than anything previous, because this time, Lovino suddenly found himself pinned underneath the Spaniard, eyes that were made black by the darkness boring into his own. Gulping, Lovino tried to look away, only to have a hand grab his chin and force him to look into that intense gaze.

Lovino had never seen Antonio act like this. Usually the man was lazy and oblivious. But for some reason, he had a huge problem with the small fact that Lovino hadn't been on the dock to wish him farewell. "I hate when you go to war," Lovino blurted out finally, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. "I hate it! Because you leave me here. And war is stupid! Because I always wind up with someone new that I don't want to be with because it's not you!"

He stopped suddenly, eyes snapping open wide and face darkening to a deep crimson. He hadn't meant to say all of that. Not at all. But there it was, and Antonio was staring at him in a perplexed sort of way. Which meant that Antonio didn't get it. Dammit! That man never got anything! Ready to blow up again, Lovino opened his mouth to complain.

Fortunately for everyone in the general vicinity, the mouth was quickly filled with a Spanish tongue. Antonio had moved so quickly that Lovino hadn't seen it, and now he found that he was kissing the older man and had the delicious tongue nearly halfway down his throat.

With a sudden, deep moan, Lovino wrapped his arms around Antonio's neck. Never before had he imagined that this would even be possible. Antonio had never cared about him, as far as he had believed, so why would he be fulfilling any of the fantasies that Lovino had had while he was lying next to this man? Yet here he was, kissing him! And not only that, but moments later Lovino felt a hand running down his naked body (for he always slept naked - old habits die hard, after all). He gasped and arched to the hand, no longer caring how he looked or how silly it was that he was acting this way.

The mouth moved from his own much too soon, but found a good use in kissing down his neck and chest. Lovino worked his hands into the dark hair and clung tightly to it as his body reacted favorably to the attention. When the kisses and licks reached his lower stomach, Lovino began to tremble violently, silently willing Antonio to move those last few inches and take his aching member into the heat of his mouth, which had only just been on his own mouth!

And moments later, Antonio answered Lovino's prayers. His mouth wrapped around the head of Lovino's throbbing erection and began to suck lightly. Squirming, the Italian found a better grip in Antonio's hair, urging him to take more. Obligingly, Antonio opened his throat and took the entirety of Lovino's length inside of his mouth, drawing a cry of pleasure from the boy.

Diligently, the Spaniard worked on the young Italian's cock, sucking lightly as he pulled back and breathing in through his nose and he plunged forward. Quickly, Lovino reached his peak. "A-Ant-tonio!" he whimpered, tightening his grip in the man's hair. "C-close…" In response, Antonio redoubled his efforts, bringing the small Italian to climax, swallowing the seed the spilled into his mouth, which just completely amazed Lovino (he had tried the stuff once, out of curiosity, and it was just really gross…).

Moving up next to Lovino, Antonio wrapped his arms around the spent boy, pulling him close. "Why didn't you just tell me you didn't want me to go?" he asked quietly, sounding amused.

"Because you wouldn't listen anyway… idiot…" Lovino's hurtful words lacked conviction though. It was difficult to be angry after having just received a delicious blowjob.

Antonio frowned and reached up to stroke Lovino's face. "I have to go, though. Because there's more land to be had…!" He moved his hand a little and tugged on Lovino's curl.

A fist met his face as Lovino tugged away from him and rolled over. "What the hell?! Like I'm not good enough!" He began his usual pattern of sulking after blowing up at Antonio, but soon found arms around his waist again and a face buried in his neck.

"Lo siento, Lovino," a voice whispered in his ear. There was a short pause, and then two more words: "Te amo."

Rolling his eyes, Lovino flushed darkly and settled himself down to sleep. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, jackass."

And Antonio knew that, from Lovino, that was as good as a proclamation of love from atop the Eiffel Tower.