A/N: This is based on the song Over and Over by Three Days Grace

So yeah, this is my first (and probably only) SpainXRomano fanfic, and I say that because I don't think I portray either of them well enough to ever write another one - nor do I have the time. Besides, I love reading fics more than writing them :] However, I might continue this in the future, from Spain's POV or something - if it's reviewed enough and what not.

I originally wrote this about 3 months ago, and then stopped on the fourth page, and today I decided to finish it xD

Italicized is either Spanish or Italian. Translations at the end~ I took Spanish as a language in school, but it's been a while - so if there's any mistakes, don't take it too personally. Or blame Google Translate - because that's what I used~

Betaed by: SinOfRegret (ALLEH)

I own nothing

Over and over, over and over
I fall for you
Over and over, over and over
I try not to
Over and over, over and over
You make me fall for you
Over and over, over and over
You don't even try

Over and Over - Three Days Grace

A groan echoed throughout the room as the thick curtains were suddenly drawn back, pouring sunlight into the room at such an ungodly hour. Instinctively, Romano drew the covers over his head; mumbling incoherent swears to the world. He was not a morning person, and had no intention of getting out of bed at any point today. However, a deep chuckling by the window caused him to scowl, as he reached over and grabbed the closest pillow that wasn't already used by his heavy-from-sleep head.

"Buenos días, Lovino," Antonio greeted cheerfully, turning to stare at the large lump in the bed. "It's time to get u-oof!" The Spaniard was suddenly cut off by a big fluffy pillow being thrown at him. Thankfully, it was only a pillow. He always made sure to move things out of the teen's reach before waking him. "Oye, Lovi," he continued with a small frown, rubbing his nose. "That wasn't very nice. Eres malo."

"Baci il mio culo. Does it look like I give a shit?" The Italian yawned and lifted the covers a little to glare at the pouting country. He stared at him for a moment, before releasing the covers once more. "What time is it? Don't you have anything better to do than be a prick and bother me?"

Despite the harsh words, Spain grinned once more. "It's almost eleven thirty, Lovi. And, since it's rare for you to visit me, I thought it would be nice to make you breakfast~" the man cooed happily, though he knew Romano probably didn't feel the same. Antonio was the only one of the two that got excited over spending time with his former henchman- especially since the young man had decided to live with his younger brother after being reunited. "Now go get dressed and I'll be waiting for you in the kitchen."

Romano frowned as he heard the bedroom door close. He waited until he was positive the stupid Spaniard wouldn't come charging back into the room for some stupid-ass reason and catch him naked. When that time came, he slowly sat up and stretched, mumbling more curses in his native tongue. It seemed whereever he would go, he would be rudely awakened. Whether it be at home with his brother, who just loved to jump on his bed with a "Vee, fratello! Buongiorno!", or here, where Antonio would barge in and do the same without jumping on him. At least it was better than Francis, who, whenever he was given the moment, would proceed to molest him until Romano was given the chance to kick him in the balls.

By the time he finished his morning routines, he could smell the breakfast Antonio had promised him. The scent practically made his mouth water, not that he would ever admit to that stupid bastard that his cooking was actually good. More like amazing. Spain had a godly gift when it came to making anything. Especially dishes that had his favorite ingredient - tomatoes. His stomach growled painfully at the thought.

When he reached the dining room, he sat at the table and got comfortable. As the minutes ticked on, he leaned his head against his hand and groaned. He hated waiting. Especially when he was hungry. It reminded him of when he was a child. An even less-patient child. He would give Antonio a hard time when it came to anything and everything. He was a terrible child. Good thing he had gotten better at behaving over the years. "Spain, you stupid bastard, where the fuck is my food?"

Well... maybe not a whole lot better, but at least he didn't wet the bed anymore.

A laugh echoed from the kitchen, and out popped Antonio's head. "So impatient, mi poco de tomate." Romano's face flushed at the nick-name, which only made the Spaniard laugh some more. As the younger man went to cuss him out, Antonio cut him off. "Don't worry, it's ready." The man then disappeared for a moment, and then reappeared with a tray. Setting the tray on the table, the Italian noticed two plates of churros, a couple of matching mugs, a pot of what he believed to be hot chocolate, and a bowl of tomatoes. The Spaniard must have known that he would enjoy them so bright and early. He placed a plate in front of the boy, before sitting down with one himself. "Comes," he said with his trademark grin, folding his hands together and resting his head on them, just like Romano was doing before he entered the dinning room.

Romano scowled once more at the stupid face the man was wearing, but knew it was best to ignore it. He picked up a churro and poured himself a mug of hot chocolate. He tried to ignore the way the man stared at him while he dipped his breakfast snack into the cup; tried to pretend that he didn't notice the way Antonio's lips curled up at their ends into a small smile, somehow finding it oh so very amusing how the Italian ate.

Said young man felt his cheeks heat up, but he blamed it on the anger he felt. "Stop looking at me, you stupid shit head!" he growled after chewing on a piece of churro, and angrily tore another piece off with his teeth. Who the fuck did he think he was?

Instead of letting the words bother him like it would for normal people, Romano's hurtful comment seemed to bounce right off the Spaniard. Or maybe it just went through one ear, and out the other. He was known for that. Antonio grinned and raised his arms into the air, wiggling his fingers as he laughed, before bringing them back down and hugging himself. "Ah, but Lovi, tú eres lindo~!" he purred happily, his tanned cheeks slightly pinking as he sighed with content. "I can't help but watch you; especially when you get all flustered and angry at me~"

Romano's eyes widened slightly at the comment, but they were quickly hidden by his dark bangs as he mumbled more curses under his breath. He grabbed another churro while ignoring Spain's "hehehe~", wishing he was anywhere but here.

Well, anywhere but here and that stupid France's house.

But he couldn't. He didn't have any friends, and Feliciano had invited that stupid potato-eating bastard of a boyfriend over for the weekend. Romano did not want to be around to hear those two fottere. He didn't have a girlfriend to hang out with, not that he needed one. He was perfectly fine the way he was. He didn't get lonely - that was what his pussy brother would say. That didn't mean he had not dated before, although he was not the type to fall for people easily. He dated many girls throughout his years, and countless amounts of money was wasted on each. They never lasted long, but he was always a good, loyal, and respectful boyfriend in each little "fling".

However, he knew better than to tell any of them that he loved them when he in fact did not. It was one thing to lead someone on, but to lie to them was a completely different story; especially when emotions were involved.

The thought made Romano glance up from his breakfast to see the Spanish bastard. Was Antonio aware of that? The elder country noticed his gaze, and smiled back before he stood up and begun clearing the table. "Did you enjoy breakfast, mi Lovinito?"

Instantly, the Italian's face lit up. There was something about that nickname that made his heart race - or maybe it was Spain's stupid grin.

Or maybe it was just the fact that Antonio was saying it. The man never even tried to seduce him or anything - but every God damn time Romano was near him, he could feel his heart beating fast against his ribs to the point where it was almost painful. He liked to say that it wasn't because of love, that he didn't love Spain, because he was more like a father figure than anything. The older country had raised him when no one else wanted him, and that was the only reason Romano could deal with the man. Had they met on any other terms, he was pretty sure he would kill him for being so damn annoying.

"Lovino~"

Antonio had shown him affection. Had shown him love when no one else did. Throughout the Italian's life, he would hug him tightly, and coo things like "Te amo, Roma." There were even many of: "muy lindo," and "Oh, Lovi, you grew up to be so guapo - I remember when you were mi pequeño tomate~" while accidentally brushing his hand against Romano's sensitive curl. When his own grandfather forgot about him when his younger brother was born, Spain would go to war for such a worthless country as himself. A war, where the stupid bastard could have lost everything, just to be able to keep his Lovinito.

"Lovi~?"

There wasn't, and never would be, anyone else who would treat him like Antonio does. And no one else would make Romano's heart race as it did whenever the Spanish bastard looked at him with that stupid, goofy grin of his.

"Lovinitoooo~?"

Spain's voice bought Romano out of his thoughts, and he realized that he had finished his breakfast, and had been staring at Antonio for what must have been quite a while now. He didn't need to see to know that his face was reddening in embarrassment. "What?," he snapped a little more forceful than intended.

Of course, it didn't seem to affect the other man; Antonio was used to the rude behavior of his ex-henchman. "Did you like the churros? Son deliciosos? Sí? Siii?" he asked excitedly, grinning his trademark grin once more and straightening up in his chair.

"It was okay," Romano mumbled, tearing his eyes from the energized man - who he could've sworn was jumping in his seat like a two year old. "I'm going to take a nap," he continued, rising from his seat. He didn't bother taking the dishes and washing them - let the tomato bastard do it. Wasn't like he was busy doing anything else.

Spain stood up too, following quickly. "Ah - a siesta? Let Boss join~!"

Romano visibly tensed, scowled, and turned to face the Spaniard. He narrowed his jade eyes, debating what to say. Then, he sighed, his shoulders slumping with defeat with the hopeful look his former Boss had on. "Fine. But if you try anything perverted, I'm going to kick your ass out."

Oye (Spanish) - Hey

Eres malo (Spanish) - You are bad.

Baci il mio culo (Italian) - Kiss my ass.

mi poco de tomate. (Spanish) - My little tomato~

tú eres lindo (Spanish) - you're so cute!

Vee, fratello! Buongiorno (Italian) - Brother! Good morning!

fottere (Italian) - Fuck

guapo (Spanish) - Handsome

Te amo (Spanish) - I love you

Son deliciosos? Sí? Siii (Spanish) - It's delicious? Yes? Yessss?

Siesta (Spanish) - Nap

So, how was it? :D
Fanfiction makes it seem so much shorter.
Hehe.
Review? :D