A/N: Hello everyone~ It's-a me, TheNobodyofNamine with something rare-a rated M fanfic~ And yes, I'm actually gonna finish this one. When it comes to smut...well, I just can't help myself. *SHOT*

NOTE: This fanfic contains boy/boy, masturbation, shota, brief incest and swearing. If you are offended by any of these, please don't read.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Hetalia: Axis Powers, or any of it's franchise. I'm merely a fangirl who likes to cater to other fangirls. :3

To the Spaniard, he was beautiful, and that's all there was to it.

His pale skin that only grew paler in the moonlight, the constant blush on his round cheeks, his messy brown hair and his eyes. Oh, those eyes. They were an amber shade with hints of green. They were perfect. He was perfect.

To the young Italian, he was handsome.

Even though he would never admit it, he knew that the Spaniard cared for him. He made Lovino feel special, important, needed, wanted. And loved. He made the young boy feel loved.

Antonio wanted the young boy, and the young boy wanted him to be close by. However neither of them could admit to it. They knew it was wrong. Both males knew deep down that God would never forgive them and condemn them to the depths of Hell, where their souls would burn for all eternity.

That's why both of them knew not to speak a word of it. They both took different routes as to how they would show their feelings. As always, Antonio became much more affectionate, offering Lovino hugs and kisses daily and spoiled the young boy like there was no tomorrow. However, Lovino was afraid. What would other people think? What would his people think? So what could he do? Well, wasn't it obvious? He would push Antonio away, in hopes that he would stop caring about him, even though it would hurt him. It was the only way. He would battle against his emotions and bottle them up. It was only at night, in the privacy of his bedroom where he would release them.

"...b-bastard," the young Italian whined as he arched his back. "...m-more..." With closed eyes, Lovino began to tweak his pink nipples through his clothes with his small, unexperienced fingers until they became a tight peak. His mouth parted, allowing his aroused moans escape. His breathing became uneven as he hitched up his knees. God, he could only imagine the Spaniard touching him, telling him how beautiful he was in that low whisper of his that made Lovino melt. His cheeks flushed at the thought of it as a chill went up his spine and a small strand of saliva escaped his lips and dripped down to his chin.

He sat up immediately, beginning to unbutton the cursed dress that his beloved boss forced him to wear. He let some of it hang off of his shoulders as he unbuttoned the dress down to his stomach. Lovino leaned his back towards the head board as he hitched his knees up higher. He looked down at himself, wondering how the older man would look at him if he saw him in this state. Those emerald eyes would be full of desire and passion with a hint of never-ending lust.

"A-Antonio..."

Lovino closed his eyes once more and traced his chest with his hands, shivering at his own touch. He had always considered masturbation, but he never really went all the way through. He would start where he is now, caressing his own chest, then stopped after a few minutes of fondling. But no, it was going to be different tonight. He couldn't take it anymore, and it was that bastard's fault. Him and that damned smile of his; how he hugs Lovino so tightly, as if he never wanted to let go of him. And his smell, God, his smell. It was enough to drive the young boy to the edge.

Lovino put a single finger in his mouth, his small tongue coating it his saliva. When he felt that there was enough moisture, he brought the cool finger to his nipple, and began to rub it once more. His mouth parted again as he grew lost in pleasure that only himself and his imagination could satisfy for the time being. He closed his eyes as he brought his other hand to his unattended nipple, twisting and pulling at it.

"Ngh...h-haa...A-Antonio..." he whined, not that anyone else heard.

Or so he thought.

Antonio was always conscious of Lovino's activities. Of course, Francis had to point it out to him.

"B-But," the Spaniard whined, "Lovi won't tell me what's wrong! He stays in his room all the time!" The blonde smiled playfully, while giving a knowing nod. "I keep telling you, mon cherie, that you should leave the boy alone," he repeated for the fourteenth time that day. "Besides, I could just tell you what he's doing," he said, a smirk forming on his lips.

Antonio's eyes beamed with happiness. "Really? You know what's wrong with him?" he asked. Francis nodded once more and motioned for Antonio to come closer. When the Spaniard obeyed, Francis whispered in his ear. With every word, Antonio's eyes widened in disbelief.

"N-No! Not my Lovi! He's just a baby..." Antonio said in disappointment.

"That's how it is," Francis explained. "After all, he's going to be a teenager in several months. This is just a normal stage of life. And if you don't believe me, check his bedsheets the next time you do the laundry."

Sure enough, the Frenchman was right. The next time Antonio washed the sheets (he had to argue with Lovino, who was fussing over doing it by himself), he saw it there: white, dried up cum spackled across the sheets. After that day, Antonio felt it best to leave the boy alone, since this wasn't really his area of expertise. If it was something about how to tend to a farm, or how to make paella, or how to play the guitar, Antonio would teach Lovino in a heartbeat. But the image of the young boy touching himself in places not meant to be seen by other people...it made the Spaniard hard just thinking about it. He shook his head. No, he couldn't-correction, he shouldn't-have thoughts like these. Instead, he just tried to ignore it and go back to his room.

Meanwhile, the Italian already had his developing member in his hands, pumping it up and down. He felt a shock run through his body, this being the first time his hands had ever gone south. His eyes shut tighter as he grabbed the head board with his free hand, bucking his hips uncontrollably.

"Antonio...Antonio..." he repeated, unable to get enough from his wild imagination. He felt a heat inside of him, tightening like a coiled spring, wanting to be released. He pumped faster, hoping that he would feel the wonders of his soon to be climax. However, once he was almost there, so close to his peak, his hand released his member, dissolving would-be pleasures. He caught his breath, and pulled his blanket up to his shoulders. In the end, he couldn't do it. He needed the older man.

Hey, guys~ Yeah, a friend asked what my take on Spain/Chibiromano would be, so this is the result...so far. Actually, ths is one of the very few smut stories I will ever write, and the first one I've posted here on . Anyways, I'm still a bit rusty with everything, and I noticed that I was lacking some details, but oh well. At least I know to make the next chapter more...savory.

Until next time everyone~ Please send reviews~