A/N:

Hey you guys! I'm Deci :)

This is my first story, like, ever. I've never actually written a fan fiction...for a website. And such a perfect request to start with:

Dear Deci,

Remember that roleplay we did together? The one with Estonia...? Well, it'd be great if you could write about it! I've never seen an Estonia/Spain story that wasn't complete crack...so I'd prefer if it was a little more serious than we roleplayed it. You can bring anybody else on in from the board we were in. [I think you and France were close to getting it on before I came in;;;] And I heard that you and your Estonia are together...so...yeah.

This is perfect. I love getting requested to do things from roleplayers. {Especially Chibi eue}

BUT YEAH. Enjoy ;u;/

Chapter 1
Faerie tale, my ass.

This is Antonio. He has green eyes. This is Eduard. He has green eyes, too. Pretty, pretty green eyes. See the girl. The girl wants to go out with Antonio. Will Antonio go out with the girl? Alfred is sitting with Antonio. See everyone laugh.

Antonio always wanted a faerie tale romance. You know, the whole sha-bang. That warm blooded, passionate, 'I'd-die-for-you' kind of romance. But in the back of his mind, he knew all of the books he'd hover over were pure bullshit. Still, it was fun to believe. There was a huge drawback to being about as straight as the letter S, as he so fondly put it; there were no faerie tale romances.

People hated everything they didn't understand. But, being about as dim as a burnt-out light bulb, he couldn't wrap his thick head around that idea. And, try as he must, he could never comprehend why people loved him until he pranced out of the closet with his shiny American boyfriend. The normal table, at the very back of the smoothie shop on Allen, was abandoned by his old friends...even though it was the best and the most to-die-for table in the entire shop, as it was closest to the arcade. He'd spend hours and tons of quarters on the DDR machines and Prize Grabbers. Hell, he was most likely the highest VIP on the corner. The original red-topped joystick that controlled the Grabber's metal hand was worn from years of use, but Antonio still loved the familiar sweet smell of the store.

But enough of what he left behind, let's talk about what's new.

Well, he didn't have to worry about children. Not that Alfred would even be the one to be knocked up with a Spamerican baby. If anything, by some odd twist of the fangirl mind, he would. Night after night, the American would satisfy his every sexual desire inside of the experienced Spaniard...even though there was a six year difference..Appearance wise. But still, in human years, counting by decades, Antonio would still be an old fuck compared to his just-old-enough-to-fuck-without-crying-through-it boyfriend. Why were they even together? At first, he thought Alfred would hate his guts...after the whole "Haha, this is my land now, bitch." situation during the era of the New World. Then there was the garbage with Puerto Rico and so much other shit that he'd have to make up for with even colder, harder fucking.

A lot of people scoffed when they heard Antonio and Alfred would even look over to each other, especially that stuck up prick, Arthur. Not that the Brit's shorts got a little tighter around either of them, he'd lost any sexual attraction to Antonio after he found out the man had a thing for sleeping pills. Now a days, Arthur couldn't stand the Spaniard's sunny laughter, or the way he butchered the English language with rounded vowels and cringe worthy grammar. If anything, he hoped Antonio only did that to get on his nerves. Otherwise, he would personally tie him down and force him to learn proper English. But that's not exactly the point. The point is, most Europeans looked right down to the Americans, the same way the Americans looked down to the Mexicans. Fuck, 'America' didn't even call himself the right thing. He was the United States of America not just America. Some argue, this was what tightened most of the world's balls. They called the United Kingdom "England" and thought that France was only Paris. But this was why Antonio loved Alfred. Okay, not love. Antonio had felt true love a while ago...but for the whore of Europe, Francis.

Often times, he wondered why he didn't confess to Francis. They seemed meant to be. The countries of love and passion. Think of how amazing the sex would be. THINK ABOUT IT. And neither of them were all that monogamous either. Open relationships are hot. They could have as many people in the same bed as they wanted, and then shoot a huge IDGAF if they caught each other with another person. That sort of romance made the pages of Antonio's books crinkle with the same electricity that flowed through his veins.

But other times, when masturbating to the very thought of Francis returning his love, his mind would creep to the beer guzzling, burger wolfing American, who not only kept him up with his curiously amazing sex skills, but played video games on full blast until dawn. But, it was nice to at least have company. Alfred was loud, but he made up for it with his 'beauty'. Antonio couldn't put his finger on the word, but Alfred was so full of himself. "America the Fucking beautiful," or "The best place on Earth, baby!" were common phrases. Our Spanish little tard ofter wondered, Did Alfred ever take a second look at his people? They were doughy, most of them overweight and round. If they weren't fat, they were skeleton thin. They hated everything that was against the constitution, even though almost everything they did went against it.

"Antonio?"

Antonio snapped back to reality. "W-what?" he looked up from his martini, "Yeah?" Oh yeah. He was at that new restaurant with Alfred. Why they were there? Fuck only knows.

"I ordered a hamburger," the American began with a grin, "What are you getting?"

Damn, he hadn't chosen yet. "Uhmm.." he trailed off, scanning through the menu. He could vaguely feel the waiter's impatience and bit his lip, "I'll just get a tomato and cucumber salad." he set down the leather bound menu and smoothed down his shirt. Alfred couldn't help but laugh,

"I knew you'd get something with tomato in it!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Antonio cooed, jaden eyes darting across the room. Normal boy:girl couples were staring. Why did that usually happen? He had so many questions.

And that's when he saw him; sitting in the back corner, laptop lights giving his face a pale blueish green glow. He looked concentrated, driven to finish whatever he was doing. The glare on his glasses made it almost impossible to see his eyes, and his tongue tipped as the corner of his mouth. He was the kind of boy that his friends would all laugh at, the type that would stutter his confession to the It girl, only to be let down harshly. Not that he wasn't good looking...I mean, he had nice skin...

The Spaniard giggled, turning back to Alfred, who was babbling on about his newest video game, no doubt some FPS game with 'the most amazing graphics'. Most of this, he ignored, staring into the man's blue eyes with such interest. What was he really thinking? Antonio shouldn't be trying to figure out what other people were thinking...be could sense the atmosphere about as good as a loaf of bread. And he didn't even know what was going through his mind half the time. He had so many questions...