The tumulous centuries of the 1400s, the 1500s, the 1600s. The era of empires. Of sailing out into the wide, open sea. Braving unknown dangers and facing brutal savages. Conquering. Plundering. Bringing boatloads of riches.
Shining jewels. Glittering gold. Polished silver.
But in Romano's opinion, the greatest treasure the Spaniard ever brought, was himself.
Of course, he would never confess such a thing to the older nation. Fearing the elder would endlessly tease him as Spain was prone to do. So Romano would never tell. Never.
That didn't stop him though. From worrying. From fearing. Every single time Spain walked outside the door. Out to the infinite world beyond.
Romano always wondered if he would return.
And every single time. Every. Single. Time. Romano felt relief and happiness, unlike no other, upon laying his eyes on a returning ship. Spain's returning ship. Because it could've been the Queen of England for all he cared. But Spain's ship... It was special.
And he would watch from his hidden position on the dock, for Spain could never know, as the elder nation stepped unto the port. Tired but beaming. Happy and well.
That was all Romano ever needed.
He then runs back. Racing to their home. Their home. Pretending to have never noticed Spain's departure. As if he had never left.
Spain watched Romano dash from his place behind a stack of wooden crates. Chuckling quietly to himself. Despite what the little nation believed, Romano was not good at hiding. For one thing, his cute curl would stick out a like a sore thumb.
Spain found it so adorable. And thus never spoke a word about it. Afraid that uncovering Romano's "clever" scheme would cause the boy to stop.
For really, nothing beats coming home, with the knowledge someone was waiting for you. Someone was worried about you. Someone cares a great deal for you.
So Spain stalls. He checks in with the dock workers. Exchange greetings with the merchants. And give a few praises to his fellow conquistadors.
Giving Romano the head start he needs to arrive home first.
"Hey! Romanooooooo!"
"What, Spain you bastard? Quit shouting in my ear!"
"But look what I got for you!"
"Eh?! What is that? It's so-so red!"
"It's called a tomate, chiquito. Why don't you try it?"
"Why would I try something from the likes of you?"
"Oh but its so good! See, watch!" Bites into the juicy flesh. Juice dribbling down his chin. "Mmm... Delicious."
A huff. Arms are crossed. Chin lifted obstinately.
"Aww, come on Romano." A pout.
"No."
The expression lifts. An idea forming. "Hey, Romano."
Glares. "What part of no don't you under-!"
Kiss.
A wicked tongue pushing through plump lips. Sweetly. Gently. Caressing.
But all too soon, they pull away.
"Oh! Romano! Your face looks like a tomate! How cute~!"
"Y-Y-You-You BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASTAAAAAAAAAAAAAARD!"
and the tomate becomes Romano's favorite food...
The sunlight poured from the clear-blue heavens. Unobstructed by clouds, an infinite expanse of space.
It made Romano feel small. Well, smaller.
This must be what Spain felt, back in his "good ol' days". As a conqueror. Isolated in the sea of boundless waves. The earth your only companion.
It must've been awfully lonely.
And Romano never understood Spain's greed. His insatiable lust for gold. His quest for the famed, 'El Dorado'.
Come to think of it...
"Spain! Oi! Answer me, you bastard!"
Spain pauses. A freshly plucked tomato cradled in his palm.
"I can't give you anymore tomates, Romano. You're going to eat up all my crops!" The elder laughed, motioning to the wicker basket on the ground. Half-filled with the round, red fruit.
"Shut up! That's not what I wanted!" Romano blushed, lashing out.
"Then what did you want?"
Romano suddenly found the dirt so much more interesting.
Spain blinks. "Lo siento, can you repeat that?"
"DidyoueverfindyourElDorado?"
"El Dorado? Did I ever find it?"
"That's what I said! Are you deaf?!"
Spain chuckles. "Well, El Dorado means city of gold. In essence, it means a really, really great treasure. So yes. I did find it."
Romano's head snaps up. "You did? Really? No way! You're lying!"
"Oh but I did!"
"If you had, why didn't you bring it back? All that treasure!"
"What are you talking about Romano? The treasure was already here."
"W-Wha-?!"
Spain smiles sauntering over to where Romano sat. Kneeling before him. "Si, si. Right here at home."
Romano flushes at the sudden proximity. "W-Wh-Where?!"
Spain leans in closer. "Right here."
They were mere centimeters from each other. Romano could feel Spain's hot breath whisper across his lips.
A sudden burst of movement and Spain pulls away. Bringing the tomate, still firmly in his grasp, between them.
"If I had known I could plant whole fields of these, I might've never left!" He grinned, biting into the fruit.
Romano stared cross-eyed at the fruit. Heat flaring across his cheeks.
"Oh look, Romano! You're like a tomate again!"
"BAAAAAAAA-mmph!"
Lips met. An overpowering tang of the sweet tomate. So familiar.
Gold never decays
And neither will this love for you
"My El Dorado."
A/N: Okay! Here's the fic as promised! Sorry it's late! That and it sucks, I'm sorry... I can't seem to write Romano well enough
