AN: What... Did I just write...? See! This is what happens when I listen to too much Country! Well, I hope you enjoy anyways!
Romano panted hard as the sweat gathering above his brow began to trickle down his nose. The salty sweat suddenly dripped from his pointed nose as his body gave a quick jerk. His hips continued to move spastically, his body unable to find a rhythm with the form underneath him, making him bounce constantly.
A few choice curses slipped between his lips when the being under him made an unhappy noise when his clenched his fists tighter. His thighs wobbled and he clamped them firmly against a warm ribcage, causing another quick jerk of his body.
"You're doing great, Lovino," called a certain Spaniard as he pulled his horse along side Romano's. Romano grumbled and cursed as a hard bounce caused by the horse's trot caused his already unhappy genitals to be crushed by his body weight. A few pained tears pricked against the corners of his eyes.
Spain slapped a good natured pat against the younger man's back with a merry laugh. Romano glared harshly at the green eyed fool from under his sweat soaked hat leant to him by the stupid, blond, American nation who's country he was currently stuck in.
"I want off this damn thing right now," said Romano in a straining voice. Another hard bump. Another loud, Italian swear. All Spain could do was giggle as he watched his love struggle with tame American Quarter, Misty, while his own Arabian, Wanda, kept pace.
"Seriously, Stronzo, get me off of this," Romano hissed though clinched teeth and Spain nodded. He gently pulled back the reins and let a soft 'Woah' escape his lips, his horse slowing its already slow pace to a complete stop.
The taller brunet swung his leg over the saddle and jumped down. Romano, whose horse trotted past Spain, tried to copy the older man's action and, after a few failed attempts, managed to halt the creature.
America, who was once far ahead of the pair, casually ambled back to them on his dark Morgan named Pride.
"Havin' some troubles," he asked as he watched Spain help the frustrated Italian off of his own steed. Spain looked up at the boy-nation and smiled.
"Lovino is having a hard time, so he's going to be riding with me!" Said Italian sneered and slapped the man on his arm.
"I never agreed to that," he said loudly. The Spanish man smiled while rubbing his sore arm.
"Well, you are anyway!" Romano sighed and shook his head, asking himself why he fell in love with someone so... Strange. America nodded and hopped out of his saddle and reached for the reins of the American Quarter.
"I'll just take this sweetie back home then. Y'all know where to go, right?" Spain spared the blond a quick nod, giving Romano a boost onto his chestnut horse. The younger man kept both of his legs to one side, refusing to spread them. Spain quirked an eyebrow but climbed up as well.
Romano had to lift his legs so Spain could sit correctly behind him, and Romano heavily dropped his legs back onto Spain's. The position was awkward, Spain having to wrap his arms around the Southern Italian to reach the reins, but Romano would have rather sit like a lady than have his manhood flattened.
Spain gently squeezed his legs and the horse began trotting slowly, leaving the young American chuckling and shaking his head at the strange pair.
After many silent moments (apart from some complaints about the heat and a numb aft end), they reached their desired destination.
The area was far off of the path that they had left America in and in the middle of a thick wooded expanse. Under the shade of the thick pines, the air was cool and pleasing to the sweating Italian, and he let out a content sigh. Spain smiled in the boy's auburn locks.
"So, this is the place," asked Romano as his companion stopped the horse. Spain nodded and watched as the boy hopped out of their shared saddle, the blood rushing back to the Spaniard's dozing leg. He shook his tingling leg a few times then hopped down himself. He lead the horse to a tree with a thin trunk and tied the rein around it.
After gazing up towards the evergreen pines, Lovino turned his attention to the rushing creek at his feet. The water sparkled in the splotches of light peaking through the tree's thick abundance of needles. Spain walked up behind the small Italian and he wrapped an affectionate arm around his slender waist.
Romano grumbled lightly but did not pull away from the embrace. Due to the lack of any other peoplenations, he even decided to go as far lean into the man's grasp, much to Spain's delight.
For a few calm seconds, the two men were content on listening to the splash of the slowly flowing water against time worn stones when Spain leaned his head slightly and placed a kiss against Romano's cheek. As Spain's lips left the younger's cheek, a warm red replaced them, making the green eyed nation smile.
The smaller male turned his face away from his lover, trying to hide his blush, and Spain took this opportunity to place a warm kiss on Romano's neck. A surprised gasp escaped the hazel eyed man's lips and a delighted shiver trailed its way up his spine. Pleased with the reaction, Spain distributed more kisses against the younger man's neck; some small pecks and some with an opened mouth and a playful tongue.
"A-antonio," the quiet, strangled moan slipped between Romano's lips and was swallowed when Spain suddenly pressed his lips against Romano's soft ones. Romano brought his arms from by his sides to wrap around the Spaniard's neck loosely. Spain's own arms lazily began rubbing at his love's sides and lowering him to the soft dirt, the Italian not giving a damn about his shirt dirtying or his borrowed hat falling from his head and into the water.
Clothes were lost; a shirt hanging from a tree while another clung desperatly to a jutting rock, begging the creek not to let it drift away. Pants and boxers joined the tree-hanging shirt and fluttered in the wind.
Moans and sweet whispers of lovers' names floated on the breeze and frolicked over the splashes of clear liquid. Streaks of stubborn light sparkled in love filled, hazel orbs and danced through emerald hues brimming with tenderness and adoration.
Slowly, like the water flowing by them, the two beings became one with each other in both body and mind, if only for a few splendid moments. In those moments, the both laid in each other's arms, noses filling with the smell of their love and fresh, wet dirt, and all they could do was slow rushed breaths and stare.
After they both slowly fell from euphoria, they began to gather their strewn clothing, the taller male giving up his dry shirt so his younger lover did not have to wear a damp one.
Once fully redressed, they trotted to the path on the back of the Arabian, and then back to where America was expecting them.
After a few strange looks from the American, and a hard pat on Spain's back by the unnaturally strong man, they all settled in America's house for a late lunch.
-In The Stables-
"And they did it! Right in front of me" Wanda shook he head, her dark mane flipping to the opposite side.
"Oh! I am so glad I wasn't there," Misty stomped her hooves twice. Pride tried to ignore the two mares as they prattled on about those two foreigners but was somehow pulled into the conversation.
"They were adorable, though, don't you think, Pride?"
He looked over to Misty from his end of the stable.
"I don't know. And I really don't care. Now stop your yappin'."
"You're so mean..."
"Don't listen to him, sweetie, he's just being a sourpuss like always."
"True. Any ways, Wanda, is that why one of them didn't come home with his cloth thing?"
"Yeah." Wanda shook her mane again, "Eh, let's not talk about it any more, okay? It was kinda weird..."
"Alrighty!"