Drawn-out, NedSpa because I'm still stuck in Rare Pair Hell.
Enjoy everyone!
He never thought he would actually listen. They had bickered and debated about much more horrific things throughout their long history together. Only for Spain to come slinking back into his life, just as cheerful as ever. But now it's been 2 months and he hasn't heard from the Spaniard. Netherlands' mind kept drifting back to that night. He remembered how stressed he was from his current work load at the time. And Spain had only made it worse by showing up at that time to bother him. He hated how carefree he was, slacking off on his responsibilities. It pissed him off. That's when he had started yelling, telling him to disappear off the face of the Earth. Spain's calm demeanor had faltered. And just for a brief second, Netherlands had seen a hint of sadness in his green eyes. Yet, he had reverted to his default expression before deciding to get up and leave.
Netherlands had grown anxious during his time away from the Spanish nation. Several times he had woken up in the middle of the night, phone in hand ready to dial his number. He told himself it was just to check on him. He told himself that Spain had owed him money from a prior event and that was the only reason he was calling. But it wasn't true. He had tried to pry info from Belgium, France, and Romano about his whereabouts. But, they knew nothing. He had tried to reach him through his boss but whenever he had called, they said he was busy. Then one time he had went to visit his country. It was a ridiculous idea. Yet all he had wanted was just a brief glance at him in the streets or cafés. Just to see his face among the rest of his population's smiling people. He was nowhere to be found. It really was as if he had fallen off the face of the Earth.
It was driving Netherlands crazy, but he couldn't understand why. They had both done and said worse to each other. Why had he grown so soft this time? And why did he care so much about this idiot? Perhaps it was a feeling of regret for yelling at him. Contrary to popular belief, he did have emotions, he did feel things like guilt. It was just that he had hidden them away years ago. However, they still clouded his mind from time to time. There was also another possibility for his attachment to Spain. But, Netherlands tried not to acknowledge it. It was much easier just to repress it within his mind. He had other things to focus on anyway.
"Brother?"
Netherlands glanced up at his sister from across the table. She wore a worried concern on her face as she held a forkful of waffle inches away from her mouth. Netherlands realized that he had stopped eating minutes ago. Luxembourg eyed him too with a matching look of concern. Netherlands quickly took a bite from his waffle to lessen their frowns.
"What is it Bel?"
"Do you have feelings for Spain?"
Netherlands almost choked at his sister's question. He went into a coughing fit for a few seconds before drinking from his glass of milk. His siblings eyed him the whole time.
"No. I don't." He stated slowly, trying to regain his stoic demeanor.
Luxembourg tried to intervene. "It's just that you've been acting strange since Spain-"
"I said I don't have feelings for that idiot." Netherlands roared. "What part of 'no' do you two not understand?"
Luxembourg recoiled from his voice. He quickly regained his composure and resumed eating. Belgium eyed Netherlands for a few more seconds, as if she were going to say something. But, she ultimately looked away. The rest of the meal was quiet.
He kept telling himself that he had no feelings for Spain. Yet, the more he thought about it, the more it became apparent to him that he actually did. Somewhere throughout the years his hatred had turned into a reluctant friendship and eventually love. It wasn't uncommon for nations' relationships, like their governments, to change throughout the years. Years of kindness or animosity could be destroyed in a matter of days. Netherlands never thought that his relationship with Spain would be one of those.
A week after breakfast at Belgium's, Netherlands had grown restless in the house one evening. He could no longer focus on the book in his hands and nothing on TV appealed to him. He decided to get out the house.
He internally cringed upon stepping outside, cursing the frigid Dutch weather. But he figured the cold would snap him out of his current mood. He went walking down a path past his home and eventually wound up on a bridge looking out into one of the cities many canal. His gaze was intent and the world around him grew silent for an immeasurable amount of time.
"Aren't you cold?"
Netherlands was set to ignore it but the man's voice stopped his heart for the briefest of seconds.
His head turned around and sure enough, it was Spain. Looking as dazed as ever. His tanned skin only enhanced in the winter night. Netherlands was glad to see him again, glad to know nothing serious had happened to him. But he also felt angered. Once again, here he was, just popping into his life again without a care in the world. And he was here in his country no less!
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"Just visiting." He beamed.
"You've been here plenty of times before. There's nothing new here for you to see."
"I guess you're right." He laughed. "I was just coming back from Romano's house and thought I would stop by on my way back."
He paused for a moment, gripping his arms.
"Brr, it's cold."
Netherlands sighed, before removing his overcoat and wrapping it around Spain. The warm-weathered ditz still had no idea how to prepare for the cold.
Spain grinned. "Thank you."
There was a long moment of silence between the nations before Netherlands spoke up.
"I need coffee."
He pushed himself off the railing of the bridge, suddenly remembering the directions to the closest café. He began walking away, only to look over his shoulder at Spain who was still frozen in place. The Spaniard watched him with mild eagerness, like a dog waiting for his owner to grab his leash. Netherlands gave out an exasperated sigh.
"Are you coming or not?"
Instead of answering, Spain jogged to catch up with him.
Much to Spain's relief, it was a lot warmer in the café than outside. It was quiet too, from the dwindling number of customers. He enjoyed the cup of coffee in his hand but he couldn't help but notice Netherlands barely touched his. But judging from the way he inhaled the joint between his fingers it was obvious that he hadn't come here strictly for the drinks. He gazed out the window for a long time avoiding Spain's gaze. He decided to use the opportunity to study the Dutch nation. His skin looked paler than usual, his frown deeper, and faint dark circles under his eyes. His hair was styled in its usual fashion but it was sloppy. It was as bad as Belgium had told him.
"You look horrible." He blurted out.
Netherlands eyed him darkly.
"Unlike you, I've been busy working." He took a hit from his joint, spewing the smoke right in Spain's direction.
"From what I've heard from Belgium and the others I—"
"If you want to know how I'm feeling ask me directly instead of going behind my back. I'm fine."
Spain sighed, running a hand through his dark brown hair.
"I would but it's hard with you amigo. You're not the easiest person to talk to."
"Perhaps not." Netherlands murmured.
This wasn't how Spain wanted their reunion to go. He wanted to be truthful. To mention how much he had missed him during his time away. Grab him, hug him. To tell him that he's in love with him. Been in love with him for god knows how long. Unlike the last time he saw him, he felt bold enough to tell him. Yet he knew that if he went in too fast, too intense with Netherlands, the Dutchman would shut him out. That was the downside of loving someone who was so stubborn.
"So you've been working huh? I have too. Rented a little place in the countryside for some peace and quiet."
Netherlands scoffed. "I can't imagine you actually doing work."
"I know." Spain grinned. "Well, I did other things while I was up there too. A lot of thinking."
"About what?"
"You. Us." His voice went soft upon the last syllable. Another awkward silence. "I'm sorry Netherlands. Here I am, just rambling away." He looked up at the Dutch nation but he didn't look his direction. Instead he preferred to stare out the window once more. Spain knew he had made a mistake.
"Please, say something."
"What do you mean by us?" Netherlands' voice sounded strained.
It wasn't too late, Spain thought. He could still save this conversation. However, he still hesitated. Could he really do this for another 10 years or so? Or for however long he had been holding onto these feelings? He'd backed out the last time. Perhaps now was the time to get it out of the way. For both of their sakes. He took a deep breath before continuing.
"I mean us being more than neighboring nations. I mean us being more than friends. Ned, I've…had feelings for you for years."
"After all the shit we did to each other?" His voice was intended to be blunt but Spain noticed it lacked its usual acidity. He still avoided eye contact.
"Do you still hate me for that?"
He wouldn't blame him if he did. Not all nations could forgive and forget their intertwined histories together. However, it was usually easier to when one considered that they had all been pawns at some point in their lives. Forced to bend their bosses' demands.
"No."
The Spanish nation let out a small sigh of relief. Yet, there was still another big question that needed to be answered.
"Then what do you feel for me?"
Spain watched Netherlands closely, waiting for an answer. He noticed how the blond squirmed in his seat. Tapping his fingers restlessly against the table while his other hand fiddled with the burning joint. He couldn't remember the last time he saw the Dutch nation so agitated. Could this mean?
Netherlands gently raised his head again, drawing Spain out of his thoughts. Spain waited eagerly to hear his answer yet the blond nation said nothing. He put out the joint in his hands before standing up.
"Not here." He said before walking out the door.
Spain was speechless for a few moments. He unconsciously gripped the overcoat draped across his shoulders. Suddenly overwhelmed by the other man's scent woven into it. Netherlands wasn't one to play games so why of all times did he decide to start now? Spain needed an answer. Yes or no. He wasn't going to back down. He wouldn't-couldn't spend any more nights thinking about Netherlands, hoping that he'd return his feelings one day.
Spain rose from his seat, pushing in his chair with more force than necessary. The rush of cold air from outside didn't bother him like before. He whipped his head around and was surprised to see Netherlands standing against a wall a few feet away. His posture had a slight slump to it as if he had stopped to regain his breath. He stayed in his spot as the Spaniard marched over to him. Spain was about to raise his voice at him but was momentarily caught off guard when Netherlands placed his gloved hand against his cheek. The Spanish nation barely had time to adjust to the feeling before the blond nation bent down to press their lips together. Spain was more than eager to return the gesture. The kiss was better than anything Spain could have imagined. Despite the fact that the world around them was freezing. Despite the fact that their mouths were bitter with the taste of cannabis and coffee. In that moment he focused on nothing more than prolonging their kiss and the warmth he felt in the Dutchman's arms. Their lips finally parted but the nations still remained close afterward, briefly tilting their foreheads toward each other.
"That's how I feel about you." Netherlands stated quietly.
"All you had to say was yes."
"You got your answer didn't you?"
Spain sighed, burying his face in the taller nation's arm.
"How long?"
"A while." Netherlands answered, realizing Spain's question.
While there was so much more Spain wanted to hear from Netherlands, he knew that it was already rather late.
"I should go back to my hotel." However, he hadn't budged from his spot.
"Stay with me." Netherlands offered. "It's closer."
Spain smiled, knowing he had no choice but to accept the offer. It wasn't one that the Dutchman extended to anyone often.
"Alright." He agreed, grasping his gloved hand.
Spain looked up at Netherlands for a brief second yet he managed to catch the smallest of smiles appeared on the blond nation's lips before disappearing. There was something almost childlike about it, a reminder of happier days from his youth. It was so tender for such a serious person. And Spain loved it.
Just as much as the man who had supplied it.
Thank you for reading! I hope someone out there enjoyed this. The story was partially inspired by the Panic! at the Disco song "Always". I started this in winter, as you can tell from the story's setting. Then, I had given up on it. I eventually decided that it still had some potential so I sat down and kept writing and re-writing it, eventually adding in Spain's POV.