A/N: Weeeee~ Another gift fic done! This one's for a Romano RP'er on this RP thread..thing. I know Romano's birthday passed, but since her's was coming...=w= d
This is also for the Spain Roleplayer as a super early gift!
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA! I wish. I can only wish. Himepapa owns it and everything in it.
The dream sequence was inspired by a Spamano doujin named Daisy. Omg, please go read it. It's adorable!
Warning: UNBETA'D, BL, fluff, no smut, sorry. BoyxBoy love. Don't like? Don't read.
In any case, enjoy!
Key:
"Talking"
'Thoughts'
Words that are not english/Dream
"Someone on the other side of a phone convo"
Sound effects
Notes
Lovino simply stared at his calendar, or rather, the one specific date that had been circled in red. It was two days...Will the tomato bastard remember that day, he wondered. His arms were overlapping on the table, his head resting on one of his forearms as he stared at the circled date.
Suddenly realizing where his thoughts were leading him, his face burned with embarrassment, and he smacked the calendar aside, burying his face into his arms.
'Dammit...Why was I thinking about that tomato bastard...' Lovino thought, growling. Of course the bastard won't remember...He probably never really cared ever since the Italian moved out from the Spaniard's care and declared independence.
"¿Por qué, Carmen?"Antonio whined over the phone. He had been asking his sister to watch the house for a few days, and it was to no degree of success.
"I told you, Toni. Hermana is going to be hanging out with her girls today! I thought we went over this last night?" the voice on the other side said, seemingly quite irritated.
"But Carmennnn! Es muy, muy, muy importante! Por favor?" Antonio begged, looking at the calendar in his kitchen. Only two days...he had two days...
His pondering was interrupted when a sigh came from the other side, followed by a contemplative noise. "Okay, how about this? We'll drink in the house then. You know I can't cancel my appointments with Franni and Mari. That would be as bad as you not going with Gil and Franfran, or ditching Roma on a date." Carmen said, poking fun of her brother. The Spaniard chose to ignore that last comment, and smiled his usual bright smile, though he knew that his sister was not there to see it.
"Gracias, Carmen! Just don't wreck the house." Antonio said, before hanging the phone up to prevent further complaints from the other. With a smile and determination, he quickly dashed out of the house to set to work. He had two days...He could do this.
Another day...Nothing. It was the last day of the meeting in Italy. Of course, it was Ludwig who had to lead the meeting, seeing as Feliciano was either off in a corner playing with some kitty, or taking a goddamn siesta in the middle of an important world affair.
Lovino had already done his part. He had spoken on behalf of South Italy, and said what he was told to. Why the hell did Italy need two representatives, anyway? Probably cause Feliciano was so damn lazy...That bastard.
After the meeting had ended once more with no resolution whatsoever, everyone filed out of the room, with a fuming Brit storming out as soon as the meeting was announced adjourned. A frantic American soon followed, and after that, an injured Frenchman helped up by a Canadian, whose presence was not known to Lovino until now. Who the hell was he...Whatever.
Feliciano had started walking with that damned potato bastard, droning on and on about pasta this, pasta that. What an annoying idiot...Lovino stood up, figuring that he might as well just leave. Gathering his papers, he stood up, and left the meeting room.
As he walked down the hallway, he spotted Antonio, standing at a nearby vending machine. He seemed to really be contemplating what drink to get...at least, that's what Lovino thought. Walking over with his usual scowl, the Italian's earlier assumption was right. The Spaniard's finger was hovering over either coffee, water, or orange juice. Frustrated, Lovino pressed the button for coffee, and Antonio simply stared.
"Eeeh? Lovi, that was supposed to be my drink..." Antonio pouted, having finally made up his mind right before the Italian had chosen the drink for him.
"Yeah, well, you took too damn long. Other people want a drink too, you know." he growled as a retort. He actually just wanted to talk to the Spaniard, to find an excuse to converse...Of course, he'd never admit this, even to himself. Grabbing the cup of coffee, he took a sip, made a face, and handed it back to Antonio.
"Here...Take your goddamned drink. It tastes like shit..." he grumbled. Then the other subject came to mind. Should he ask...No, he didn't want to. He knew the Spaniard would not remember...but...maybe...Just maybe...
"H-hey...D-do you know what tomorrow is?" Lovino asked, leaning against the machine. Perhaps...just a sliver..that the other would still remember.
For a moment, Antonio contemplated, holding the cup of coffee and screwing his eyes shut as if in deep thought. Then he opened his eyes, a smile sewn onto his face. This gave Lovino hope. So the idiot really did remember after a-
"Mañana es...diecisiete de Marzo! Why do you ask?" Antonio declared, and looked to Lovino as if expecting some prize for his answer.
If a growl and a string of colorful curses in Italian from Lovino was considered a prize, then by all means, he certainly received it with utmost urgency. He did not know why Lovino had exploded so suddenly and stormed off. Hopefully, he'd be able to make up for it tomorrow...
Lovino felt like an idiot for kicking up such a big fuss with Antonio. He knew the Spaniard would not bother to remember his birthday, so for what reason was he holding onto the tiny, frail string of hope that he would receive something...some sort of congratulations...It was stupid.
Once home, the first thing he noticed was the fragrant smell of pasta sauce, still wafting about the room though the aroma was slowly fading. On the table was a steaming dish of pasta, quite a big serving too, along with a little note on the table.
Veee~ Fratello, I'm going to Ludwig's today. We have some stuff to talk about with Kiku, so I won't be home before dinner. Here's lots of pasta for you, and there's more in the fridge if you get hungry!
- Feliciano
'Mi idiota fratello...hanging out with that stupid potato bastard again...What a nuisance...' Lovino thought, very irritated with the fact that his brother had been spending more time with the German and less with him lately...It wasn't like he was lonely, he just didn't like his little brother hanging around the potato bastard. That's all.
With a frustrated sigh, he grabbed a fork, and began to dig into the pasta, intent on eating away his sorrows. He'll celebrate his birthday alone with Feli this year. That's no problem...He didn't care if nobody else remembered the day or not anyway...It was pointless.
After finishing the meal, Lovino lazed about on the couch, flipping the channels on the TV and trying to find a good program to pass the time with. His eyes darted to the little calendar on the table, and for a moment, he stared blankly at the circled date.
Feliciano had circled over his own circle, and made stupid doodles around the day. He may have been a wimp when it came to physical labor and war, but there was no denying that Feliciano was a superb artist...
Shit...his inferiority complex for Feliciano was surfacing. No... He was determined not to let his brother outshine him any further...and he was going to stick to that resolve, dammit! With an unhappy growl, he slammed the calendar onto the table, and resumed his channel surfing. He started nodding off as the channels flicked lazily by. When he decided that he won't deny the rest needed, Lovino tossed the remote onto the table and plopped down onto the couch, lulled into slumber from the acoustic music drifting from the TV...
"I'm declaring independence..." Lovino had said while his head hung, his hands forming fists by his side, a single briefcase containing what little belongings he had sitting by his foot. He was hoping for the Spaniard to stop him...prevent him from leaving...
Looking up, he saw that the Spaniard did no such. Instead, he stood there, with that stupid...idiotic...shocked expression on his face. His eyes were wide, his mouth slightly agape.
Antonio had wished that he heard wrong...that this was some elaborate prank, set up by Lovino just because he wanted to see Antonio panic...Just because he wanted to be a bit mean to the Spaniard...
The thick silence that befell them...the body language..the aversion of eye contact...For once, Antonio was able to read the atmosphere. His heart ached, and internally, he was breaking...but if this was what Lovino really wanted...then let it be so...If he was not happy here, then it was up to him to go as he please...
"I see..." Antonio had said. He still smiled, though the smile carried more weight...more facade, more sadness...With one hand, he raised it, and gently patted Lovino's head, petting it just as he did with the Italian so many years ago...
"I hope you and Feli will live out a happy life...Boss will miss you..." he had said. His heart ached terribly, and he refused the leave of the Italian. He wanted to reach out, to grab Lovino, and never let him leave...but his conscious reprimanded him for thinking such. Lovi is not happy here..let him go and find happiness...
Lovino felt like shit...He wanted to cry...to scream and to ask why Antonio had not stopped him...But no. He did no such thing. Biting his lower lip in anger and disappointment, he grabbed the suitcase and walked out, not once looking back to the house they once shared, or the man that once took him under his wing...
Once outside, he was not afraid to let his feelings burst out. He did not know, nor did he care, that the Spaniard was just on the other side...
Romano sat on the front steps, curled up and crying, silent sobs which were screams to him as tears trickled down like the merciless rain that one could be caught in while visiting London. "Idiota...bastardo...Stupido Spagna...Stupido Antonio..." he cried, muttering the words incoherently into the sleeves of his jacket, interrupting himself with hics and sniffles.
Meanwhile, Antonio was on the other side, and the sniffling was enough of an indicator to tell him that Lovi was outside, crying. 'Ah...I made Lovi cry...' he had thought. He could feel a searing heat burn his heart, and felt something trace down his face. One hand rose up an wiped at whatever it was, and he found it was a tear.
And once that was discovered, like spies who were discovered, the tears started to escape his tear glands. He still smiled, mentally berating himself for not staying strong...but in the end, he too broke. Leaning against the door with his back, both hands covered his face as he slowly slid to the floor, a silent, sobbing, wet mess. 'I'm sorry, Lovi...It's my fault...Lo siento..." he murmured, crying as well...
Lovino sat up abruptly, sweat running down his face as he heaved breaths. With a frustrated groan, he grabbed his hair and doubled over in anger. He had not had that dream in years...why now of all times...
When he calmed down and looked up, he saw that it was already morning. Ah...he had overslept. It seemed Feliciano had returned but once, as there was yet another plate of pasta on the table and a note to accompany it.
Buon Compleanno, Fratello! I made special pasta for you! When you're done eating, go to brother Spain's house. There's something he said that we all have to talk about. I'm heading there first.
- Feliciano
Again with the stupid note. "Stupido...It's your birthday too..." Lovino grumbled. Then something hit him.
Wait...He had to go to Antonio's house? After having that dream, he wanted to avoid the tomato bastard...He didn't want to meet him. However, the note sounded urgent, and he grumbled, getting a fork before sitting in the chair. "Stupid fratello...You're gonna owe me big for this..." Lovino grumbled, as he shoveled the pasta down.
Once he had finished eating, Lovino cleaned up the mess, and went to change out of his old clothes. A simple button up shirt, and some designer pants later, Lovino was out of the house, and dialing his boss for a ride to Spain...
During the entire cab ride from the Spanish airport to Antonio's house, Lovino simply stared out the window, watching as the settings changed now and then. Why did he have to go to the bastard's house, anyway? What was so goddamn urgent that even his own brother would have to fly all the way over there.
Whatever. It wasn't like he had anything else to do today...
After paying the taxi fare, Lovino stepped out, walking to the other's front door. Suddenly, if only for a bit, he saw the image of himself projected there. Curled up, crying...absolutely miserable. Sucking on his teeth, he scowled and turned away, and when he looked back, the image was no longer there.
Stupid fucking dream...
It was then that he heard Feliciano's voice call out to him. "Fratello!" came the usual whiny voice. Panting, Feliciano doubled over as he tried to catch his breath. Once he did, he looked to his brother. "Oh, you made it!" he said, hugging his brother. Lovino shoved Feliciano off, and growled.
"How the hell did I get here before you if you left first?" he asked.
"I got lost..." Feliciano said, pouting as he hung his head and twindled his thumbs.
With an annoyed sigh, he grumbled an insult to his brother, walked up to the entrance, and rapped his hand against the door a few times. No response. He rang the bell. No response. He knocked again. Still no response.
Feeling his patience wear thin, Lovino grabbed for the doorknob, which was surprisingly open. Turning it, he peaked in, and the first thing to greet him was a loud POP and a handful of confetti which flew near his face. He had screwed his eyes shut, shouting swears as he was scared to death.
However, when he looked up to chew out the bastard who did that, he saw Antonio...as well as the rest of the others from the meetings. The fat American, Eyebrows, the pervert, the potato bastards, Elizaveta, Bella...and Antonio, amongst others.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"
"Hartelijk gefeliciteerd!"
"Boldog születésnapot!"
"Bon anniversaire!"
"Alles Gute zum Geburtstag!"
"Feliz Cumpleaños!"
All the happy birthday wishes were thrown at Romano and Feliciano, with each person's respective native tongue. Dutch from Bella, Hungarian from Elizaveta, French from the pervert, German from the potato bastards, and finally, Spanish from Antonio.
The bastard...he did remember after all...Tears welled up in Lovino's eyes as the emotions welled up inside him. Feliciano rushed over to his brother, his smile gone as he worried for the crying Italian.
"Veeeh? Fratello, what's wrong?" Feliciano asked. Everyone was looking worried as well, the festive mood completely gone. Lovino shook his head, and looked at them all.
"Y-you're all idiots...S-Stupid idiots!" he yelled. But despite the outburst, and the tears, Lovino was wearing a smile. He was moved, too moved, and he couldn't hide it...
"Thank you all..." he mumbled, and Feliciano hugged his brother.
"Grazie, grazie!" Feliciano chirped with a wide smile, his chocolate eyes wide open.
For awhile, they all partied, drank, ate, and had one hell of a time. During the midst of all the chaos, Antonio found Lovino, and pulled him out to the patio in the back. Lovino growled, "I was eating, dammit! The fuck do you want?" Antonio smiled, showing him the acoustic guitar he was holding.
He propped Romano onto a seat he prepared before, and with his own stool, he sat down. A single chord was played, and then...a song. Lovino had never heard of this song before...it was new. Did Antonio...
Once the song had finished, Lovino stared at the other, shocked. Deciding to break the silence, Antonio silently laughed, scratching the back of his head.
"So...how was it...Was it bad..? I had to make it in two days, so I don't know if it sounds rushed or not." Antonio said, looking to Lovino with hopeful eyes.
The Italian snapped out of his little daze, and attempted to glare at the other, though the slight pink dusting his cheeks did not help.
"I-It was fucking horrible, you bastard! But I guess it's not too bad since you made it in two days..." Lovino grumbled, turning away. At this, Antonio laughed, and walked over to Lovino. He plucked a daisy that grew near the steps of the patio, cleaned its stem, and placed it into the Italian's hair before planting a chaste kiss upon his lips. Lovino simply gaped, and Antonio smiled, before gathering a tomato-colored Lovino into his arms.
""Feliz Cumpleaños, mi amore..."
A/N: Crappy ending is crap. Thanks for reading through! ; w; /
Translations done in Google translator. Feel free to drop suggestions. Feedbacks welcomed, flames are not!
Translations:
Es muy, muy, muy importante! Por favor? = It's very, very, very important. Please?
Mañana es...diecisiete de Marzo! = Tomorrow is...seventeenth of March!
Mi idiota fratello... = My idiot brother...
Idiota...bastardo...Stupido Spagna...Stupido Antonio... = Stupid...bastard...Stupid Spain...Stupid Antonio...
Hartelijk gefeliciteerd!
Boldog születésnapot!
Bon anniversaire!
Alles Gute zum Geburtstag!
Feliz Cumpleaños! = Happy Birthday!
Feliz Cumpleaños, mi amore... = Happy birthday, my love...