Author Notes:

- Ah, wow, what a wonderful reaction. I wasn't expecting much, to be honest. First time writing a purely Spamano fic, after all, and although I've written them before (In the "One Month" storyline), it just isn't the same.

- School makes me busy like you wouldn't believe, and I was planning to update for Valentine's Day but that kind of got...ruined...so the first part of this chapter is for Valentine's Day. Hah. Well. Go back in time with me?

- I once did some research on coffee or tea preferences around the world (for my PruCan fic). I know for sure that East Germans like their coffee, and that Canada tends to prefer tea over coffee for the most part. I'm pretty sure America is coffee centric, too. We all know England likes tea (that's the bloody stereotype, eh?). Spain loves coffee, as does Italy. For some reason, as I was writing, I decided/discovered that Romano doesn't get this whole tea/coffee one-or-the-other thing. Eh. The random things I learn.

- Also, minor correction. Pope Benedict XVI announced resignation on the 11th, but officially resigned on the 28th of February. My bad. ;P

Warnings:

-The first part of this chapter is a little...mmm...suggestive. Should I put the rating to M? Not sure...

~!~

Don't Tempt Me

Chapter 2

~!~

Heat, everywhere. Panting. Couldn't get enough air. Couldn't calm the heat. Had to find release. Burning.

"Lovino," a whisper by his ear. A breath across his skin. A touch in his hair.

"Nng..."

Couldn't speak. Still fighting for air. Wonderful, painful burning everywhere. In his lungs. In his face. And still elsewhere.

Wanting to shout, wanting to demand more, but only his eyes could speak. Only his eyes could get the need, the desire across. Green eyes answered him. That look. That smile.

Antonio...

~!~

Romano awoke gasping for breath, sitting up in the bed, clutching his covers in a tight grip. Sweat beaded down his face and he reached up with an arm to wipe it off. His fingers tangled in his hair. The dream still playing through his mind, making his breathing quicken, making his heart race, making his face flush.

Tomato bastard had taken over his thoughts.

It wasn't fair. He'd have to say a prayer for the very thought, for the very dream run wild. That his mind could conjure such images was only proof of his addiction, his obsession. He was doing the right thing, giving it all up. He knew he was doing the right thing, even if it hurt, even if it was hard.

Sexual attraction for the same sex was not inherently sinful. No, after all, one could hardly explain how or why someone was attracted to someone else, so whether it was a defect or the truth – it wasn't his fault. However, sexual intercourse with the same sex, getting married, dating, accepting the attraction as normal and forming a union, anything that could be considered acting on said attraction...that was the sinful part. As some groups had started saying: being gay wasn't a sin, acting on it was.

That was the Church's stance, so that was how Romano should live, too, right? If he wanted to be a good Catholic. And he wanted to be good. His people were strongly Catholic. He should be just as devout. The fact that his brother did not see it as seriously as he did, well, that kind of grated on his nerves, but at the very least he would follow the rules.

Still, the thoughts were there, the dreams were there, and his flushing face was getting harder to control the more he thought about it. And it was only the second day of Lent! With a scowl he threw the covers off and climbed out of bed. He would get control of this. Snatching his rosary from the nearby dresser, Romano pushed all thoughts of Antonio the tomato bastard out of his mind, focusing instead on his devotion to God, asking for help, asking for the right course of action, asking to quell the pain in his heart...asking why he had to carry such a heavy burden...

And then Veneziano crashed through the bedroom door. "Romano~ Something came for you in the mail~"

At first he scowled at his brother for interrupting his early morning routine, but Veneziano was one to wake up early. Just as Spain was an early riser – but someone who took a long nap after lunch. Then he blinked and stood up, wearing his sweatpants and a tank top that he normally wore to bed. Something had come for him? In the mail?

Why – what – who?

"It doesn't say who it's from and we're sitting down here so curious, so won't you come down and open it?" Feliciano continued, practically bouncing from foot to foot as he waited at the doorway.

Romano glared over at him. Didn't he know it was rude to ask someone to open their mail? As if he would be opening it in front of everyone anyway. He wasn't a child! Even if Veneziano wanted to act like one, that didn't mean Romano did. He was a proper grown up and could take care of himself and liked to keep things personal thank-you-very-much. It was like this with everything – from sharing what they were giving up for Lent, to opening mail in private or around each other, to reading letters out loud, to -

Wait, did he say we?

"Who else is here?" Lovino growled, having a pretty good idea.

"Ah, Germany came by," Feliciano said, still smiling and almost hanging on the door. "It's Valentine's Day, Romano."

Feeling his eye twitch, Romano snapped. "That doesn't mean you should allow him in here! This is my house, too!"

Another thing his brother did that annoyed him. How dare Feli be happy with another man and still claim to be Catholic. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair. How could his brother be completely okay with his decision? How could Feliciano hang around the German, date him, love him...and yet Romano had to deal with this tug of war in his mind? Whereas Lovino was trying to be good, Feliciano was almost flaunting his sin.

...in their house even!

"Ve~ But it's more my house and I wanted Germany to stay. Don't you want Antonio to visit?"

Romano glared at him. Sucked in a breath and let his eyes do most of the talking. He could feel his entire body trembling when he responded. "Don't. Mention. The tomato bastard. Ever. Again."

Veneziano gaped, stepping back, and then staring at him sadly. "Oh, Lovino, you don't have to -"

"Can you not just do one thing, Veneziano? Just one thing! That's all I'm asking from you!" He didn't mean to snap at his brother; he really didn't, but with all the turmoil in his heart, he did not want to deal with the looks and the pity that his brother kept sending toward him.

When Feliciano didn't respond, Romano growled and pushed his way past his brother. Fine. If he wants me to open the mail in front of him and his stupid German bastard, then fine. As long as I don't have to deal with them bugging me about Antonio, I don't care.

Walking into the living room, Lovino looked up with a growl to see the German bastard sitting on the couch, sitting in front of the coffee table, having made a pot of coffee the moment he arrived, probably. Though Romano was pretty sure his brother loved creating different coffee drinks and cappuccino, he knew the German would never give up having his coffee simple and black. Only Prussia was worse when it came to his coffee addiction. Prussia or America, he wasn't sure.

Personally, Romano would be fine with a nice glass of wine. All this coffee or tea nonsense tended to get on his nerves. It was like the rest of the world had to have this huge debate and competition over which drink was better. He couldn't understand why they wouldn't just be happy with a glass of wine in the morning. Not for the purpose of getting drunk. (Wine was certainly never fun to get drunk from, because those hang overs were a pain). No, a glass of wine in the morning was a nice, perfect little...

Romano froze before sitting down in the room, standing at the edge of the smaller couch – the loveseat. Germany wasn't drinking just any coffee. That smell would be recognizable from anywhere. The bastard had found Spain's stash.

"What are you doing?" He growled.

The scent alone was making him want the Spanish bastard. He shouldn't be wanting the tomato bastard so badly. It was only the second day! Second day! He should be stronger than this! Clenching his hands into fists, he glared at the blond-haired German who had taken his brother into a world of sin. Glared and fought the urge to punch his lights out, but he didn't feel like causing a scene. Feli wouldn't like it if he caused a scene on Valentine's Day. Besides, the German looked...well...damn bastard was built like a tank...

"Feli wanted to see you open the mail," the potato bastard said with a shrug, taking a drink from his cup of coffee – from Spain's coffee stash.

With a huff, Romano crossed his arms and flopped into the loveseat, still glaring at the German as Feliciano came waltzing into the room. "Si~ Romano, open it~"

Finally noting the package sitting on the coffee table, Romano grumbled some more obscenities and reached for it, having to take the scissors – so conveniently placed on the table – to cut through the packing tape. Once the flaps were open, he could see the gifts, and he froze. A stuffed bear holding a red heart with the cheesy "I love you" words written in white – written in Spanish of course.

His brother made his annoying "veh" sound as Romano pulled the bear out of the package. He could see Feliciano bouncing on his feet out of the corner of his eyes, but he ignored it. Such things were easy to ignore when he lived with the hyperactive man. It was the other gift that made his toes curl, made his breath catch. A CD. A stupid CD of all things. At first, he was confused, but upon picking it up and reading the back, he felt his face heat up considerably.

...it was all the Spanish guitar songs that Antonio would play when...well...it was the music he would place in his stereo when they...

Holding onto the CD tightly, Romano had half a mind to crush it between his fingers. His breath caught in his throat and his face felt ridiculously hot. He could hear Veneziano beside him, asking what it was, what it meant, who was it from? As if it wasn't obvious, the bastard. He had an urge to cry. To fling everything across the room. To rant and rage and vent and...and...fucking...bastard...

I can't stop thinking about him. The second day and he's already making it impossible. It's not fair!

"Lovi~"

At the voice, he really did freeze up. He heard a gasp from his brother as Feliciano practically jumped up and moved away, as if trying to give him space. Of all times to give him space... Keeping his face down, Romano absolutely refused to acknowledge the new presence that sat down beside him. He wasn't there. It wasn't fair. He couldn't...why...?

"The door was open so I let myself in, huh?"

A hand touched his arm and he felt the shiver rush all the way across his body, up his arm, across his shoulders, down his back, touching everywhere before coming back up. He clenched his teeth. Still refused to look up. Refused to acknowledge how red his face was, how much he wanted to explode at the world, how much he wanted not to banish the thoughts that kept invading his mind.

"Hey, Lovi, it's Valentine's Day. I don't care what you gave up. I had to see you."

Chancing a glance, Romano saw the red roses now sitting on the table beside the open box, as well as a collection of chocolates and candies. Antonio always went all out. Something about how he was the country of passion.

His face went even redder at the thought of passion. Fucking bastard really did deserve that title. Not that he was thinking about it...not that he wanted to think...or do...or...

"Fucking bastard, I told you not to come here," he snapped, throwing his eyes to the other side, annoyed at how his hands were getting sweaty and his grip on the CD was slipping.

Arms wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him close. His body couldn't decide whether to push the bastard away or accept the embrace. Temptation. It was strong. It was hard. It was...

"Oh, Lovi, shouldn't you talk to me before deciding something so harsh? What did I do?" Antonio's voice was right by his ear, making his whole body tingle.

His scent. His touch. His voice. Everything was such a bad temptation. His heart was hurting. Aching. So much. He wanted to scream. He wanted to fall into the embrace; he wanted to turn around and accept it; he wanted to run up to his room and drag Antonio with him and do dirty things under the covers. But...there was...so much...

In a rush, he tore himself away from the Spaniard's grip, jumping to his feet. Breathing heavily, he finally faced those green eyes, fighting every feeling he knew, nearly falling to pieces when he saw the hurt. He didn't want to hurt Spain. He didn't want that at all. But...this decision...it was necessary. This relationship wasn't right. It wasn't right.

"Fucking tomato bastard, you're tempting me! It's not you – it's me! Would you just go away and leave me alone?" He almost threw the CD in Spain's face, a little amazed that he was still holding the thing, but he couldn't seem to let it go.

As green eyes stared up at him in hurt and confusion, Romano bit his bottom lip and ran. Racing back to his room, he slammed the door, locked it, and then fell against it, sitting down and curling up. His heart was beating hard and fast in his chest, hurting at having to confront his temptation directly like that. Oh, how he wanted to just throw his faith to the side and let his feelings rule him. But it just wasn't the right thing to do. Even if he wasn't really the country in the same way Veneziano was, at the very least he wanted to have some connection to the people. Through faith. Through the strong bond of following the Catholic faith to the letter.

But it was so hard.

And Antonio was only making it worse.

Why couldn't they just leave him alone to suffer? Why did they have to make it so hard on him? Why did he have to carry this burden?

Tears were in his eyes again. The second day and he was still crying over it. Stupid. Ridiculous. Weak. It pissed him off. Staring down at the music collection on the CD in his hand, he felt like screaming again. He wanted to throw it across the room. He really did, but he couldn't seem to let it go. His hands were shaking and his eyesight was blurry now, but he kept staring at the CD case, at the list of songs, the guitar melodies written specifically for him. All for him.

...why did life have to be this unfair?

~!~

Antonio sat on the couch for a long time, still stunned at Lovino's outburst, at his cold, harsh words, at his tension whenever being hugged. He had half expected Romano to throw the CD at him; in fact, he could have sworn the idea crossed those eyes. But the man never did throw anything except his words, and then he ran off to his room presumably, slamming the door in his anger.

The words were still echoing through Spain's mind, as he sat there and stared off into the distance. Ludwig and Feliciano had left the room the moment he appeared, as if they both had the sense to recognize what Spain could not. Now, the two remained elsewhere, and at the moment, he didn't care too much. Those two had no problem. Ita didn't seem to have the same issue that Romano was now facing...the issue of their faith.

Spain had long ago reconciled his desires with his faith. Whatever anyone wanted to say, he was devout in his own way, too, but both him and Feliciano had decided that love meant love no matter who you felt it towards. Why did Romano have to believe otherwise? Antonio had always seen Romano as someone who cared little for authority, so why this sudden conflict...why now?

How was he supposed to get Romano to understand? Would he really just have to sit and wait until Lent was over? Sit and wait and be without Lovino for a whole season? Forty days – or however many it was technically – until Easter?

...I suppose I have no choice...we're nations...I can wait forever if I have to...but...

Letting a sigh lose, Antonio stood up from the couch, leaving the gifts on the table, hoping Lovino would come down and take them eventually. Walking into the kitchen, he tried to force a smile for Ita and Germany, but quickly discovered that his usual spark was missing and the smile refused to show. Blue eyes were gazing solemnly back at him, and, without a word, Spain shrugged and glanced away. It wasn't something to pity. It was just a sad decision.

To have happiness and then lose it. But it wasn't forever. Lovi would come back. Lovi would understand; he would realize; he would come to his senses and be at peace the way Antonio and Feli were; you could be Catholic and gay, no matter what the rules or expectations or humans wanted to say about it. They were nations. They had different rules, different expectations, different connections.

...he just had to believe in Lovino coming to the same conclusion.

Please, Lovi. You're making a mistake, but I'll wait for you.

"I'll wait as long as it takes," he mumbled, seeing both Feli and Ludwig nod, as if they, too, had experienced a moment such as this in their relationship.

For all he knew, they had. And so when Ita spoke up, it was with the best hope he could have offered. "Ve~ Luddy waited for me, and I came back, so I'm sure..."

A smile flitted across Antonio's face; he could feel it, small as it was..."Gracias, Ita."

...hope.

~!~

A/N: Bleh. I honestly had half this chapter finished on Valentine's Day. Ah well. Expect a time skip on the next chapter! Ah, so much religious talk and...well...my opinion on how the nations would handle their feelings for each other and reconcile with their faiths. Just saying, that thought has been through my head so many times while shipping these characters.

-Also, I want the imagined CD of Spain's guitar love songs ~ ahhh ~

~~Thanks for all reviews/alerts/favorites; I appreciate them all and I hope you enjoy~

~Reda