AN: Alright, well, here we are again. You see, the other day I was introduced to this quaint little site called generatorland dot com, where I found the neatest little generator: A Hetalia Picture Posting Gernerator. You see, this generator will give you the names of two countries and a kink at complete random. It was originally for 4chan I think, but works just as well for my purpose.

So, here you go. Prepare to have your mind blown.

GREECE + SPAIN AND CUM INSIDE (D8)

He was a small child at that time, and maybe that makes it worse, maybe it makes it better; it's not something Greece is too concerned about. He was somewhat exotic, and somewhat nostalgic. His dark skin, his restless demeanor, all reminded him of the days of Sparta, of the endless days training and fighting, of fewer restrictions and not so many rules and 'social norms'. It reminded him of a freer time, a time when he had been the world power.

Ah, what does he know? Maybe he just thought the kid was cute.

"You live with Rome, hu?" Greece had asked. The smaller country looked at him suspiciously. Greece was no threat to Rome, least of all him, but he was restless for a fight, restless for excitement. "What's he like?"

He was a handsome man, Spain couldn't help but notice. His half-lidded, sleepy face made the green in his eyes all the more vibrant, like light bursting through pinholes. "It's alright." He shrugged indifferently.

Greece nodded, and again turned to stare out at the ever-expanding Mediterranean. Spain stared at his shamelessly. Finally, he couldn't stand the silence and blurted out, "What would it take for me to become a man?"

Spain hated this small, weak body. More often then not, he wasn't even aloud to fight in the wars. Rome said he would handle everything, but that wasn't how Spain wanted to live. He wanted to be strong; he wanted to be able to fight his own battles. He wanted to at least get a little taller.

Greece didn't even blink. "The same thing it takes a human."

Spain thought back to his studies on Greek culture. "I have to kill a helot?"

Greece laughed. It was dry and low and warm and made Spain think of waking up in bed in the middle of summer with all the windows open. "Not exactly." He leaned in close to him and—

—and Spain's arms gave out and he collapsed on the muddy ground in a shaking, panting heap. Greece hovered above him for a moment, perhaps just looking at him, or maybe he was yawning. It was impossible for Spain to tell from where he was with his face in the mud. Greece finally scooted over to the side and lay down next to him. "Tired?" He asked, languidly running his fingers through Spain's hair. Spain's mouth screwed up. Tired? He was extremely uncomfortable: his arms hurt, his legs hurt, his ass really hurt, he was sticky, and the bastard hadn't even bothered to pull out or anything . . . so, yeah, sticky. But tired?

"A little," Spain admitted. "But I'm also hungry. Let's eat first, and then take a nap." He pulled some loaves of bread out of his bag and handed one to Greece.

And so: Siestas were born.