"Why is it so fucking hot?" Romano thought. He was currently staying with Spain, and it just happened to be a record-breaking temperature today. He was under the golden sun helping Spain pick his prized tomatoes. His entire body was drenched in sweat from all the work. He looked towards his tall, chestnut brown headed companion, "Oi, Spagna, how close are we to being finished?"
"Hm?" Green eyes flashed up to meet the speaker. He smiled as he always did and shouted his reply over the twenty or do feet between them, "Not much longer Lovi~ you can go ahead and go in if you want to~!" His cheery voice resonated through out the large garden, and his shirt clung to his tan skin.
"No. I'll wait." The shorter of the two said reluctantly. Spain's smile only got brighter at his answer. "But you better hurry the fuck up tomato bastard. I'm sweating my ass off out here."
The green eyed male just laughed at Roma's antics. "Of course Mi Tomate~." He grabbed the last few ripe tomatoes and placed them in his basket. "All done~. Let's go in Roma~." The soaked shirt showed every muscle contort as he picked up the heavy basket. Roma wasn't looking. Nope, not at all.
Once inside, the tomatoes were placed safely in the kitchen. Romano collapsed on the couch and sighed. "Stupid Spanish bastard and his s- NO. Lovino Vargas personification of Southern Italy you did not almost think that. Bad Lovino. He raised you, you should no want him to- NO, GODDAMNIT. Stop it brain!" His face scrunched up and his cheeks turned red.
"What's wrong Lovi?" Spain leaned over the couch and gazed at his red faced amigo. Lovino made a sound that sounded very much like a grunt and "go away" all smashed together. Something wet hit his forehead.
He looked up only to see that he'd been dripped on. With sweat. Spain's sweat. Romano's face gradually got redder. "WHAT THE HELL! P-PUT ON A FUCKING SHIRT!" He fell of the couch landing with a thud.
"But It's so hot out Roma~. Besides, it is my house." Spain retaliated playfully, "You look like a tomato~."
"Fuck off!" Romano stood up and started towards the stairs, but he didn't get far. He couldn't even move from the spot he was standing once he felt his ex-caretaker's toned chest against his back."W-w-w-w-w-what are you doing!? Let. Go."
"No thank you Lovi. I like it here. You're fun to cuddle against." He nuzzled into the shorter's hair, avoiding the curl with some reluctance. "Your hair's soft and you fit nicely." His arms snaked around Lovino's torso even tighter than they did before. "Besides, I want to know what's making you so upset."
He felt the other's head move underneath his chin and looked down into the greenish amber-brown eyes, wondering why he hadn't been head-butted yet. "Why the fuck do you need to know? Leave me alone pervert." He shoved away and ran up the stairs.
The Spaniard followed him, only to get a door slammed in his face. Instead of knocking, he stood there and listened.
"Fucking Spanish bastard. Why can't he see that he's the problem." Spain's face was horrified. He wanted to run, to cry, to anything, but he couldn't make himself leave. "Oh yeah, because he's dense as hell is hot. Goddamnit Antonio. Why can't you see how much it hurts."
"How much what hurts?"His thoughts were racing. What had his little Lovi hidden from him?
"He fucking raised me yet, I still, I still, FUCK! Why does this have to suck so much? Was it too much to ask for one person to like me more than my brother? Was it too much for me to ask to be loved, and not... Not fucking toyed with? Am I that terrible of a person? Or is that just what I get for falling in love with a member of the Bad Touch Trio? Not to mention the one of them that's straight. Damnit Antonio. Why did it have to be the one person that would never fucking care for me that managed to break every fucking wall I had. Why does the world hate me?" The bed creaked, meaning he must have plopped down on it. He said something else but it must have been mumbled into the pillow or something.
To say Antonio was in shock was an understatement. He stared at the door fist still raise to knock and open mouth. "He loves me? What? Where did all of this even come from? I should leave." And that's just what he did.
Antonio paced around his room, wearing a thin lined circle in the tomato red carpet. He sighed trying to run everything through his head. Lovino loved him. Not like a brother, not like a father, but like a lover. His Tomate loved him. Once he had calmed down, he glanced at a clock. 8:36.
"I better make dinner. I don't need Lovi any more upset with me."
He walked down the stairs of his large two story house, headed for the kitchen when Lovino's door opened almost hitting him square in the face, and the knob somewhere fragile. The door slammed and Lovino jumped back when he saw Antonio, just as suprised.
He was opening his mouth for a reply, but before he could utter a syllable he had his arms full of a sobbing Spaniard whispering, "Lo Siento" every two seconds. "Why the hell are you apologizing so damn much?"
Teary green eyes looked up at him almost instantly spilling thousands more tears, but instead the owner of said eyes yanked Lovino into his lap. He started speaking rapidly, "I know I shouldn't have, but I did, and Dios I'm sorry!"
It didn't help Lovino in the slightest. "What the hell are you talking about?" He asked the sobbing man-child.
"I followed you up the stairs after you got mad." Antonio admitted, " I didn't want to listen but I did and Dios Mios lo siento, Mi Tomate." He put his head on Lovino's shoulder, still mumbling apologies. "I'm sorry for being such a dense dumbass."
Lovino was deathly still. "He heard that? He heard that? Did he hear all of it? If he only heard the beginning I'll have to tell him everything to avoid it being worse by him taking it out of context."
Antonio clung to him tighter. "Stop aplogizing." Lovino demanded. "None of this is your fault. It's mine. I can leave by morning and you won't ever have to see me again. My brother can handle world meetings without me. I'm the one who should be sorry. Mi dispiace, Antonio. Ciao." Lovino stood to go begin packing, but Antonio just pulled him in closer. "I'm not a fucking teddy bear." His voice was cracking with sorrow, "Let go."
"No." Antonio whispered. His voice was quiet and sounded frail, but it was a command. And fierce command that made him stay. "Don't leave me. Ever."
"Why do you even care? You a member of the fucking Bad Touch Trio! You don't care about anything more then a one nightstand! Don't even-" suddenly his ability to speak left him. Warm lips were pressed against his in the most tentative, gentle way he thought to ever be possible. Antonio's warm arms wrapped around his back, so as the embrace got stronger, Lovino and Antonio got closer and closer together. The lips were gentle and moved perfectly with his. They weren't pushy, but they seemed to cause every piece of Lovino's doubt to leave him.
They finally had to part for air, it was reluctant, but it had to be done. Lovino breathed in with sharp raspy breaths, and stared at Antonio who was doing the same. "I don't want you to doubt that anymore." He whispered. "Te amo. Te amo mucho, Mi Tomate."
Lovino grabbed his face with both hands and reconnected their lips, soft hand's roaming through the others hair. It wasn't as long as the last one, but when the parted this time, "Ti amo troppo bastardo." And many more kisses happened as they sat there holding the other.
I was bored an felt like writing SpaMano to help murder writer's other one-shots I have aren't as good but I'd appreciate it if you'd read them and critique me. I might add more to this, but don't hold me to that promise. Danke/grazie/arigatou/merci/gracias/thanks.
*EDIT* Totally forgot this the first time-
Lo siento -Spainish- I'm sorry
Dios mio - Spainish- oh my god
Mi Tomate- Spainish- my tomato
Mi dispiace- Italian- my apologies
Te amo (mucho) -Spainish- I love you (so much)
Ti amo troppo bastardo -Italian- I love you too bastard
ジンクス のけもの
