"Spain, god dammit! Get your tomato-loving ass over here you fucking bastardo."

"Huh, oh Romano! What are you doing all the way out here?"

When was it….

"I got lost in the damn tomato fields. Now take me home dammit I'm hungry!"

"No silly, you're Romano." He chuckled at his stupid little joke as if it was the most hilarious thing in the world.

…That I started to feel this way about you.

I know who I am. I am nothing; left to follow blindly behind my brother. I'm like his shadow, they all know I'm there but Italia's existence leaves all to forget me and coo him in love and attention. Nobody cares if a shadow goes missing. Half of us don't even know it's there.

It couldn't have been when I was a child. Maybe it was. It's been so long, that I can't tell what feeling is real or not.

"Can we just go inside and eat you jackass?"

You're an idiot

"Sure my little Romanito. Come now, I've made some paella."

You're an idiot

I huffed and folded my arms across my chest, following behind him as we walked, okay, I sulked and he practically flew into the fucking house. I don't know why he's always happy when he has a lousy henchman like me.

I love you.

"Spain god dammit! I come all the way over here and you take six hours to answer the fucking door?"

"Sorry Romano, but I was going through my old things. Look," he turned around to give me a full view of what he was currently wearing. More importantly, he was showing off his ass. Now despite the fact I hate this guy, I will admit that he has a very fine ass. "Don't I look good in this?"

"No, you look like you want to get rammed by a damned bull!"

"Well it is a bull fighting outfit. That's almost the point." I sighed while he chuckled. "Can we eat dammit?"

"Ai, si! Of course we can eat. I made paella."

"You always fucking make paella."

"Does my little Romanito not like paella?"

"I do but you have to at least know how to cook some other shit. And let me guess, churros for dessert."

"Wow Roma, you're like a psychic."

"No, I just speak Idiota."

"That's not very nice."

"Oi…." I followed him to the dining room where he sat me down. "Un momento, por favor." He then left; probably to change that stupid ass outfit. I glanced around at his kitchen; not much has changed over the last hundred years. He knew that despite their wars and battles, he still had the little Rooster Clock on his wall from when she was his henchman. If I can count all the henchmen Spain had, I'd need about four hands to do the math. I don't like to dwell on that fact though; it just makes me even more depressed than I already am. It's alright, I'm sure he thinks of me the same way as the rest of them.

"Damn bastard. Why do you always make me feel like shit even when you don't do anything? All that time of holding onto a piece of land that you lost in the end. You're no better than that British asshole and his American on-again-off-again boyfriend." My fists clenched as I pounded the table once, expressing my pain in the least violent way possible. "I already feel like shit because of fucking Italy but now I have to deal with the memory of your empirical demise. Now you're just Spain. Why didn't you just let me go?"

"Because you weren't like them." Whipping my head around, I came face to face with that stupid smile of his. He leaned against the doorframe with a caring smile. I want to slap it off.

"How so bastardo?"

"They were just land. But you-"

"I wasn't important land. I was a waste and you should've gotten rid of me."

"I cared about you too much."

"Well stop fucking caring! I don't need your pity." When had I stood up?

When had I started crying?

"I will never stop caring." Growling angrily, I shoved passed him. I don't need this shit right now.

"Stop being thick-headed Romano. Accept the fact that despite 'being in his shadow', you shine brighter than anyone else."

"Don't lie to me dammit!"

"It isn't a lie. Everyone told me that you were useless, that I should've gotten rid of you but I didn't. I cared about you too much to abandon you. You've been kicked around by every country and sure, I may have wanted Italy too at one point. But he was good at cleaning… You kind of just-"

"I tried okay! I just break everything I touch!"

"Even so, that makes you perfect. That makes you who you are. That makes you Romano."

"I wish I wasn't Romano sometimes."

"And I wish that I wasn't Spain sometimes, but we're cursed to live in these immortal bodies of ours."

Why can't you always be an idiot? Why do you always have to make me feel like this? Times when I want to feel numb; to feel absolutely nothing at all and yet, you make me think. Thinking leads to regretting and regretting leads to crying and self-pity. I just want to be freed from this burden.

I love you.

I took a breath and looked up, only to find a shocked expression on his face. "What bastard?"

"What did you say?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You said 'I love you', no?" Did I? I never meant for it to slip out. Oh god, what have I done? What have I started? I probably repulse him; he'd never want to see me again. Maybe-

"I love you too." His arms held me close to his warm body, my own still in shock from what had happened. It was so fast, even Speedy Gonzalez wouldn't be able to catch it.

"What?" I asked dumbly.

"I love you Romano. I love you more than my tomatoes. More than my battle axe. More than my old empire." That last one really hit me. Tears streamed from my face carrying the burden that held me down. Love. This is what I needed. Full, solid proof that I was loved by somebody. I'm sure Itali loved me but he's an idiota so what does he know?

"B-Bastard."

"Please don't cry." I pushed away defensively, "I'm not crying dammit! I got something in my eye." He just laughed as I pouted angrily at him. "Can we just fucking eat your fucking paella?"

"Si! It should still be warm even with all this time. Come, we'll eat outside and rest." He held out his hand for me to take. I grabbed it and pulled him towards me. I then wrapped my arms around his neck and smirked against his lips before kissing him.

His lips were soft and smooth, intoxicating and addicting. They need to make an addiction clinic dedicated to trying to ignore the tentative lure that are his lips. I could feel his tongue slightly poke out, pulling my bottom lip into his mouth to be sucked and teased. I let out a soft gasp followed by a moan. Dammit, why would I give him the satisfaction of hearing my pleasure? It was so embarrassing. I slightly opened my eyes to see his opening a bit as well. The smirk that graced his face literally gave me the "Twitchy Palm" as Mr. Grey had kindly described it. Only instead of smacking ass, I'd leave a nice red mark on his face.

I allowed him entrance through my pearly, white gates, his tongue eagerly darting in to meet with mine. His hands traveled along my sides and across my ass. I really want to hit him now but his tongue is just so distracting. So as payback, I swatted his booty. Only instead of a hurt expression, I got a full out moan. Okay, this isn't going as planned. I'm losing way too quickly.

Pulling apart for air, I gazed into his eyes. Say something sweet, something romantic that'll sweep him off of his feet. I need to knock the wind out of him and make his knees wobbly.

"Bastard." Dear god that was beautiful Romano. Have fun eating alone buddy.

He chuckled and gripped me closer to him, leaning down a bit to whisper in my ear. "I love you too Roma." With a nip on my ear and a kiss to my neck, followed by a light squeeze; he let me go and headed outside with the food. A shiver shot through my spine at all of the thoughts that raced through my mind. Some were romantic like late night walks on the beach and star gazing. Others were wild and sexual; Spain dominating my body as, despite my better judgment, he took complete control of my body. I wouldn't fight back, hell, I'd even think to let him tie or dress me up (as long as it isn't something stupid like a tomato).

"Coming Roma?" Snapping out of my reverie, I sighed and gave out a light chuckle.

"Yeah, yeah. Be patient you fucking bastard."

"Okay, love you!" Heading towards the table, I smiled softly.

"I love you too, il mio unico vero amore."

So that was my little Spamano fluffy-ness. I decided to take a break from the other one. Anyway, for those who don't get the references.

The Rooster: The rooster was a gift from Portugal, which were on-again-off-again. Meaning, they were under Spain's rule on and off after they had gained their independence. Not sure if it was once or twice but they had been reclaimed again until they finally just shooed them away. Portuguese have this weird fascination with Roosters. It's very symbolic to their culture (Or so my mother had told me).

Twitchy Palm: A reference to whenever Christian Grey from "50 Shades of Grey" had an urge to spank Anastasia.