A/N: College AU with Spamano as the main focus! Have you guys seen that Tumblr post floating around about a romantic comedy novel called "You Say Tomato, I Say Shut Up"? If you have, well, that's where the title came from. My friend BrightBlueNinjas is my co-author, so give her some credit, too. POV will circulate from time to time. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

You Say Tomato, I Say Shut Up
A Lily By Any Other Name & Bright Blue Ninjas

Chapter One: Pain In The Neck (And In The Ass)

Lovino woke to the worst pain in his neck.

The flight was excruciatingly long; nearly nine hours on a flying metal deathtrap. His little brother—Feliciano—got the window seat (after winning a game of rock, paper, scissors) so Lovino was stuck in what he dubbed the "loser seat" (a.k.a the aisle seat). He'd fallen asleep after about seven hours of flying, and when he woke, his neck felt like it have been broken several times. He left the plane in the worst mood he'd been in for the longest time—which is to say: pretty bad—while Feliciano, on the other hand, was a completely different story.

He.

Would.

Not.

Shut.

Up.

Nine hours of incessant blabbing about everything: the plane ride, the airport, America, college, the American girls. At one point, he had tried to flirt with their pretty flight attendant, but Lovino kicked him hard in the shin to stop his attempts (sadly, the girl had already left before he could make his move). He had woken him from his sleep by accidentally—accidentally, sure—jamming his elbow into his older brother's ribs. Now, Feliciano was hanging out the window of their taxi, and pointing to every building. Lovino hoped he fell into traffic.

"Romano!" Feliciano turned to him as the exited their cab. Lovino wrinkled his nose at the use of his childhood nickname. "Isn't this so exciting? We're starting university! In America!"

"Hell no," Lovino grunted as he withdrew his heavy luggage. He needed to start working out; his arms were thin as spaghetti. "Another four years of annoying people and book work. There's nothing exciting about that."

"Come on, big brother!" Feliciano laughed, and put his arm around Lovino's shoulders. "Look at the campus! It's so pretty! Where do you think our dorms are? I hope we room together. Ooh, I'll take the bed by the window-!"

"Don't fucking touch me, Veneziano," Lovino spat and shoved his brother off him. "And you can't have the bed by the window. I was already stuck with the loser seat for nine hours."

Feliciano didn't seem to mind his brother's abrasiveness as he followed him up to the dormitory building. The grass felt slippery with morning dew underneath their feet. Birds chirped and a few students tossed footballs—the American ones—back and forth on the lawn. The campus of Hetalia University—HU, for short—was already bustling with energy at the too-early hour of 1:00 PM EST. Lovino yawned as he dragged his luggage up the steps of the building. A tall, exceptionally well-dressed man with wavy blonde hair and a bit of stubble winked at him from his spot on the railing. Lovino scowled and flicked him off while the man laughed. He pushed the heavy double doors open—with Feliciano's help—and glanced up. The first year residence hall was several stories tall. There were several stairs to push people down from.

"Lovino, I found this rooming assignments!" Feliciano left his luggage by the door as he ran towards a long list posted on a bulletin board. "Come look at it with me."

A throng of students were already congregated around the list. Lovino shoved his way to the front with a giggly Feliciano in tow, and ran his finger down the paper in an effort to find his name. The list read:

Rooming Assignments

Sixth Story:

Adnan, Sadik & Karpusi, Heracles

Bonnefoy, Francis & Kirkland, Arthur

Beilschmidt, Gilbert & Edelstein, Roderich

Beilschmidt, Ludwig & Vargas, Feliciano

Braginski, Ivan & Wang, Yao

Carriedo Fernandez, Antonio & Vargas, Lovino

Galante, Raivis & Laurinaitis, Toris & von Bock, Eduard

Honda, Kiku & Jones, Alfred

Oxenstierna, Berwald & Väinämöinen, Tino

He had no clue who Antonio Fernandez Carriedo was. At least he wasn't rooming with his brother. He had spent nineteen years with the crybaby, and he didn't look forward to sharing a dorm with him. Feliciano, however, seemed distressed. He flapped his arms and clung to his brother as they made their way up the stairs.

"But I don't wanna room with the some guy named Ludwig!" Feliciano resisted his brother's shoving. "What if he's weird and into bondage?! I can't be a sub-!"

"Bye, fratello," Lovino pushed him away while he tried to close the door of his dorm. "Enjoy the handcuffs!"

He slammed the door shut in his face, and laughed. Poor baby brother. He wouldn't make it an hour without him. In fact, he'd probably try to sneak in through the window and crawl in his bed at night. He'd leave the window unlocked just in case. Lovino left all his stuff in the center of the dorm, took off his shoes, and climbed into the top bunk. It seemed like this Antonio guy wasn't here yet. He didn't see any luggage anywhere or any claim over the top bunk. Oh, well. Even if this dude had claimed it, it didn't matter now. The idiota should have been there to protect his territory. There was no way he was giving it up; he was not going to suffer the travesties of the bottom bunk.

"Hola, mi amigo!"

Lovino almost rolled off the bunk at the loud exclamation. A guy no older than him stood in front of him with a bright smile. He wore a shirt with the Spanish flag on it, and held a tomato in his left hand. Lovino scowled.

"You must be Lovino, si?" He asked in a Spanish accent. "I'm Antonio. Would you like a tomato? I brought plenty from Spain. I feel like we're gonna be great friends, yes?"

Lovino blinked. He stared at the tomato being offered to him. Oh, man, tomatoes. The tomatoes grown here in America were probably shit, but that was a Spanish tomato straight from Spain. A plump, juicy, red tomato. Being offered to him by his weird Spanish roommate whom he had met approximately ten seconds ago. He took it carefully from the Spaniard. People—with the exception of Feliciano—were never this nice. Maybe his fratello wouldn't be the one stuck with a weird roomie.

"So, where are you from, amigo?" Antonio Carriedo leaned against the bedpost. Lovino scooted away. "Spanish, too? Vargas is a Spanish last name."

"Italy," Lovino muttered. "Not Spain. I don't speak Spanish."

"That's a shame," Antonio Carriedo shrugged. "But you like tomatoes, too, so you're okay. You have a brother? I saw two guys with the last name Vargas on the rooming list. He's rooming with some weird German guy, I think. I heard he's got a stick shoved up his culo..."

Lovino tuned him out as he kept blabbing about weird German guys. Ugh, Germans. They'd beaten Italy in soccer quite a few times with their shit beer and lame sausages. He hoped his brother would hate his new roomie.

"Hey, that's a cute little curl of hair—"

"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH IT, ASSHOLE."

… And just when he thought this was going to be okay.

A/N: Reviews make me happy.- Lily