[Disclaimer] Hetalia and all its likeness does not belong to me. No profits are being made off this story.
A Tomato Whose Name I Don't Know Yet
Chapter Two
Spain wandered back to the side of his own house a few days later. He flopped down on a slight hill with no regard for the state of his already well-worn clothes.
The country looked like he'd gone to hell and back.
He'd been on the receiving end of a never-ending lecture by Austria and Prussia. As much as he liked his friends, they hadn't made much sense about the whole thing.
Finally they cut him loose, making him promise to think things over.
So here he sat, in one of his best thinking spots. Too bad it was starting to get chilly in the nights as the summer was drawing to a close.
He'd always loved South Italy, ever since Austria had given him the little nation to take care of. Spain reminisced fondly at all the times the tiny country had wet the bed, or slept instead of cleaning, and ate all his food.
"Hrm…" He frowned just a little bit.
He remembered all the times he'd tried to be a good boss and remembered being shut down by little Romano. He remembered clearly the sheer confusion and unluckiness he had felt for not being able to understand Romano.
He also remembered never getting any better at it as the years went by and South Italy grew up into the country he was now.
He remembered telling both halves of Italy that he wanted to marry them one day, and somehow he had gotten caught up in a fantasy of domestic bliss. He didn't want to remember the day his boss legalized gay marriage which led to him running stupidly across Europe and getting his ass kicked by annoyed nations.
The country thought about how Romano hadn't lived with him for a very, very long time, and how sometimes promises didn't mean anything after a while. Otherwise… well…
Spain shrugged and pet a turtle friend that had climbed onto his knee.
"Turtle, you remind me of Romano too." He said sadly, patting the creature on his shell.
The turtle didn't reply.
"A country doesn't get married based on love." He repeated Austria's words. The turtle blushed. "Love between countries is hard to come by."
Spain smiled unsurely, staring at the turtle. "That's not totally true." He muttered to himself. The turtle looked about ready to swoon.
"Oh dear… Spain, what are you doing here?" France appeared at the bottom of the grassy slope.
"Ah! France!" He waved even as his neighbour climbed the hill and sat down next to him.
"Just, you know…" He grinned, but France could tell it was fake. "Being alone…"
"Oh," France tapped his chin, remembering a long time ago when he did not have the short hairs that grew there now.
He and Spain had sat here in the very same way that day. He would have to play counsellor again, for his oldest friend.
"Don't tell me you're here moping about Romano again?"
A dark cloud appeared above Spain's head at the question and France got the hint. He laughed and waved his hand, rose petals flying out of his sleeve as he batted away the little cloud.
"What am I supposed to do?" Spain bowed over like a wilted flower. His turtle friend crawled away in the direction of his house.
Spain ground the palm of his hand into his forehead. "I've never loved anyone else before."
France grimaced, but quickly made a kissy face instead. "You're an idiot."
Spain groaned and hung his head even lower. "You guys keep telling me that. It must be true!"
The blond stared at that tussled head of hair and his hand shot out of its own volition to caress his friend.
Spain didn't even seem to care as France ran fingers through his hair, feeling the warmth of the Spanish sun captured in the thick brown strands.
The side of France's mouth curved up into a half smile. Spain was, without a doubt, the most oblivious country in the world. At least, when it came to what was right in front of him.
The other side of his mouth completed the tight-lipped smile as his hand trailed down Spain's back, smoothing out the wrinkled summer shirt.
"Mon dieu," France sighed in exasperation. "Do I have to tell you again? If you listen right from the start, you'll understand someone's true feelings." France snuck his finger under Spain's chin and tilted the depressed nation's face up.
"That includes your own, no?" France placed a kiss on his cheek.
Spain's wide expressive green eyes caught his own. "That's it! I have to listen to my heart!" He laughed and this time France could tell it was the real deal. He groped Spain's ass in return happiness.
"It's-It's so simple!" Spain said in awe. He slumped closer to France, almost lying in his lap as the blond country slipped his wandering hand under his cotton shirt and caressed his back. "Being honest with myself…! Why didn't I think of that?"
France busied himself with tweaking one of Spain's nipples, superbly pleased when a bright blush spread over his tanned skin.
"That's what you have me for!" France proclaimed with relish. "Be honest to yourself and your heart will be as clear as a summer day."
"Or as sweet as the ripest tomato!" Spain joined in.
France paused, "Yes, that too."
"Hey," Spain smiled, finally having some sort of direction. "How do you always know when I need a good, hard—"
"Eh?" France stopped his ministrations in surprise and pulled back. "What?"
"A good hard reality trip. Yeah, you always say it in a way I can understand!" Spain actually stretched out causing France to fall flat on his back. Spain stared down at the other nation, the sun's setting rays slipping past his shoulders and highlighting his hair. "You're always there for me."
"Ah, well," France scooted away and ran a hand through his pale locks. A few blades of grass fell from them and gusted away on the wind. "It's hard not to notice you, from my window."
Then France's nose twitched as if he had come across something unpleasant. "Your bad mood is starting to waft into my house!"
Spain rolled over and stretched out into the grass, looking much more peaceful than before.
"Thanks," He said obliviously.
France stood up and brushed the earth from his slacks. He held his hands out for the other nation and Spain took them.
"Romano and I can never be together." Spain said suddenly on his feet.
"Did… he tell you that?" France asked suspiciously.
"Nah," Spain dismissed. "But, I'll never understand Romano," He laughed slightly and knocked his fist on his own head. "And… love between countries is hard to come by."
France gave him a dubious look and Spain laughed with a slightly embarrassed shrug.
"It's what Austria told me. Prussia said it's 'time to get out there and find some new hoes!'" Spain exclaimed dramatically in typical Prussian fashion.
"Er, yes that does sound like something he would say…" France said in distastefulness at the other nation's lack of finesse.
"Or at least, I shouldn't stay stuck on… 'rotten fruit'…" The brunette's mouth twisted up at the comparison.
France crossed his arms and seemed to analyze his neighbour. Any other nation would sense impending molestation when faced with that look, but seeing as how Spain had already been groped he didn't really think much of it.
"And what do you honestly think?" France asked.
Spain rubbed the back of his head, "Er, well… even if Romano was really cute… he is extremely hard to be with…"
"Being honest with yourself is difficult too, no?" France said with a trickster smile and Spain actually blushed.
"Yeah. So, I'm going to till the land until I find what I'm looking for." Spain pursed his lips in concentration. He looked warm and alive, as if he'd been injected with some sort of determination to move on.
It could have been the fact that France had reached out and pinched his ass.
"I'm looking for a tomato whose name I don't know yet!"
France face-palmed.
End Chapter Two
