Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters.

Chapter 2: Kidnapping is a Crime!

It was by some strange magic that brought Romano to the front of the coffee shop. It was a pretty busy street that the cafe had opened up on, the type that had a hundred little cracks in the street but no one fixed because it was used so often. Attempting to look inconspicuous to the passer-bys, he covertly tried to peek through the dark windows from the side. Why were the windows tinted anyway? They were just a pain, anyway. By angling his head to the side and leaning down, he caught sight of Antonio, who was serving the customers with a warm smile.

Gagging at the boy's idiocy, Romano casually straightened himself up and walked into the cafe, hands in his favorite pair of tight blue jeans that may or may not have made his ass look good (ok, like realllyyyy good). Not that he was wearing them because of the Spaniard! No…he just happened to wear these today…yes, that was it.

Antonio, who had been counting change, glanced up and caught sight on the Italian. A huge, ridiculous grin spread over his face, revealing the man's very visible laugh lines in his cheeks. Ha! That's what the bastard gets for being so happy all the time—premature wrinkles!

"Romano! I didn't think I'd see you so soon!" The brunette closed the register and leaned forward on the counter.

The auburn-haired boy glanced down and muttered, "W-well. I had time before class and the sandwich wasn't too disgusting from last time. I-I'm not here because of you, dammit!"

Antonio laughed whole-heartily at the boy's cute and shy nature, but quickly stopped himself when he saw Romano growl and turn towards the door to leave.

"Ah, wait! Don't leave!" He exclaimed with an edge of desperation in his tone.

The angry Italian turned half his body towards the Spaniard and gave him a glare.

"You're pissing me off, asshole." Antonio gave him an apologetic smile and ushered him back with his hands by doing a beckoning motion.

"Lo siento. Come on, what do you want?"

Romano eyed him cautiously before sighing and moving back towards the counter. Threading a hand through his course hair, the Italian squinted at the board and picked something random.

"I want…the espresso and the BLT."

The Spaniard nodded and rung it up. Spinning around and grabbing a cup rather smoothly, he filled the cup with hot coffee and covered it with a cap.

"Coming right up! I love tomatoes~! They're my favorite food." Romano's eyes widened and a small smile lined his face as he watched the man move.

"Damn right! Tomatoes are the best food out there!" The brunette boy was shocked when he noticed the genuinely happy expression on Romano's face, and stared in awe. The Italian noticed Antonio's gaze and forced his mouth back into a scowl. Antonio didn't have to seem so surprised! The idiot gawked at him like he was seeing a three-eyed monkey.

"Can I have my food, bastard? And I'm definitely paying this time, so here." Romano thrust the money into Antonio's hands. The Spaniard blinked and decided to humor the boy and let him buy his food. He would just have to get him next time.

"You know, you should do that more. You have a really nice smile." He said simply and truthfully as he handed the food to the boy and tried to catch his eye. Red filled the Italian's face as he held the wrapped sandwich.

Antonio laughed sweetly and pointed at him.

"You look like a tomato. So cute~!"

This cause the red to go a shade darker as Romano struggled to find the right words to defend his manliness.

"M-men are not supposed to be cute! And I do not look like a tomato, you jerk!" Pouting, he stomped away from the counter and towards one of the tables, with his view away from the Spaniard.

Chuckling, Antonio kept an eye on him over the next half hour when business picked up and his hands were full with orders. He smiled absentmindedly as he worked, thrilled that he could see the feisty Italian, who he had been invading his thoughts, so early in the day. The Spaniard didn't know quite how to explain it. It seemed like they were destined to meet by the way they were naturally draw to each other. And he wasn't one to deny fate!

A voice from behind him brought him out of his daze.

"Who's the boy throwing dagger eyes at you?"

Antonio turned around to meet the curious and coy grin of his boss, Elizaveta. She was like an old family friend who was always eager to gossip and chat over the most inane subject. She was, however, a very reliable person, and had gotten him this job in the first place to help pay for his education.

Following her gaze, he looked over at Romano, and was surprised to see him practically glowing red. Was that anger? Embarrassment? Uncertain, he decided to just grin and wave, causing the Italian to frown and turn back away from him.

"A friend… of sorts." He answered unsurely.

Elizaveta flipped her long, brown hair and hummed. "Oh? Well, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you two have the hots for each other!"

The Spaniard chuckled but didn't answer. The Hungarian woman eyed him for any reaction to her accusation, but found none. Dissatisfied with her inability to read him, she spun around and popped a piece of milk and white chocolate into her mouth.

"Keeping quiet, eh? Come on, make a fujioshi's day. I want details!"

Antonio pretended to actually mull over the offer and pointed at her smacking lips.

"Only if you stop eating your own food. You've had over $100 worth already, and you just opened up a few weeks ago. How are you and your husband supposed to make a living?" The woman groaned and puffed out her lip.

"I make them, so I get priority! And Roddy is an excellent businessman! No deal!"

Grinning, Antonio took inventory of what they had left in stock and handed the sheet to his boss. "Then, I'm sorry, but my lips are sealed."

"Fine. I'm keeping an eye on you."

Pointing two fingers to her eyes and spinning them around at Antonio, she huffed and returned to the kitchen.

Turing back to face the sitting area, he looked up to check on Romano. However, he saw that the seat he had been at before was unoccupied. Perplexed, the Spaniard frowned uncharacteristically and scanned the whole shop to find no angry Italian. Romano must have headed back to class, he concluded. But why hadn't he at least said goodbye?

Disappointment tinged his usually indestructible smile, but he, seeing no point of getting worked over something so little, did his best to keep him mind off the Romano until he was finished with his shift.

~x~

Blankly staring at the course material, Romano sat through his next class without really focusing. His mind constantly shifted back to Antonio and his smile and his kindness and that lady.

Squeezing his water bottle, he inattentively sketched while delving into his own thoughts. Who was she? She worked with Antonio right? And she was pretty and nice and fun and Romano was…not. Now that was probably the Spaniard's type! Well…it wasn't like he actually liked the bastard! She could have him for all he cared!

He stopped sketching and stared down at the paper with a sigh. Not again. It seemed like whenever he let his thoughts flow freely, he always ended up drawing the stupid bastard with all his handsomely stupid features. He didn't like him that much…or at all… ok, maybe he liked him more than he put on. Groaning, he clutched his head in distress and messed it up his hair. Why did he care so much?

As the clock struck four, Romano sighed and gathered up his supplies for the next class.

Stupid Antonio.

~x~

Romano was just on time to catch his train. He waited on the platform, messenger bag hanging off his right shoulder and eyes emptily burning into the ground. He vaguely registered the group of girls giggling about something on their phones or the married couple bickering about what to have for dinner on his left. The monstrous and ominous sound of the train approaching silenced them all, as if it was some type of higher being that commanded their attention. After the customary gust of wind, the cart arrived and opened its door, welcoming its passengers, but Romano didn't move.

To be honest, he didn't really want to see the tomato bastard. What was he himself thinking about getting involved with someone he randomly met? It was stupid. His purpose was to get through school and support his brother, not chat with idiots and miss trains. The last call for the cart sounded over the intercom, waking him temporarily from his thoughts.

He entered the cart and took a seat in the back, away from the plethora of people. Everyone was always eager to get off the train as soon as they got on, but not Romano. He always enjoyed the peaceful and silent ride home before he had to deal with his overly talkative brother. Today, however, he was tired and wanted to take a siesta early. When Antonio's stop came, Romano glanced towards the doors, waiting for the grinning bastard to come in and harass him.

However, that didn't happen.

The doors closed and the train sped back off towards the other stops. Feeling numb, Romano clenched his fists and felt his finger nails dig into palms. Although he didn't want to see the bastard, he could have at least shown up! He huffed and growled. He should had known better. Honestly, what made him believe that Antonio was different from the others?

He wasn't good enough. Everyone had always told him that, even if they had never said it to his face. The answer was written all over their expressions and critical gazes.

Why can't you be more like, Feli? Feliciano is so talented.

Oh? You can do art? You do know there's no career in that.

That boy needs a shrink or something. What's with his horrible attitude?

Feli is so cute! Why is his brother frowning all the time? Someone should tell him.

Romano was stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

"Romano?" A voice pulled him out of his mind and forced him to look up at the out-of-breath Spaniard staring down at him.

"Antonio?" He spoke softly, confused. What was he doing here? Hadn't he missed his stop?

The Spaniard sat down in the free seat next to him and beamed.

"Sorry I'm late. I got in the wrong cart! Can you believe that? I rushed over as soon as the next stop came." He scratched his cheek sheepishly.

Romano stared at him and tried to swallow the lump in his throat.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard, idiot." He stated with a scowl. Who did that anyway? He almost gave him a heart attack for noth—Romano banished those thoughts. He wouldn't admit anything. No. Antonio made that oh-so-dreamy laugh that made Romano's knees weak.

"Yeah, well, you left so suddenly at the shop. Why didn't you say goodbye?"

The Italian shifted in the worn leather seat uncomfortably and stared down at his hands. The train quietly sped over a few bumps and into a tunnel as he looked out the dark window.

"There was no reason for me to stay there. Besides, you were busy." He muttered finally.

Antonio sat there for a moment searching for the right thing to say before replying.

"I just want you to know that you're always welcome to come get coffee. I'd be very happy if you became a regular. I could see you more."

He smiled sincerely, sending an arrow of affection straight at Romano. Frowning and eyes slightly widened, Romano turned away.

"Whatever you say, bastard. You're coffee's ok. It's not like I'd want to see you, anyway."

Antonio chuckled and faked hurt by clutching his heart, as if he had been stabbed in his chest. "Ow! You're so mean, Roma~! Why can't you be nicer to me?"

Why can't you be more like Feliciano, Romano?

Romano froze as the self-loathing voice played in his head. Of course. Everyone liked nice people, and he was not one of them. People just used you if you were kind. It was a situation he saw often with his brother. Some would pretend to be nice to the older sibling just so they could get to Feli, or others would pretend to genuinely care about his little brother just to bail on him when he needed them the most. Romano knew all too well you couldn't trust people. Antonio's laugh died down as he noticed the Italian's painful expression on his face.

"Romano? What's wrong?"

The boy didn't answer, only staring ahead with wide eyes and quivering lips. The Spaniard leaned forward and raised his tanned hand to cup Romano's cheek gently and turn him to face him. The boy growled, awakening from his shock, and was surprised to see the worry in Antonio's eyes.

"Nothing, you jerk! Let go of me!" However, the Spaniard's caring but strong grip did not let up. His green eyes bore into his own.

"Tell me, mi tomate."

Romano blushed and attempted to wiggle out of his grip more than ever.

"Go to hell! You're just like the rest of them. You're…"

The Italian felt his eyes start to well up as he lost the will to speak. Not wanting to be humiliated anymore, Romano rubbed his eyes and pushed the other boy away. Antonio sat there in shock as Romano got up and dashed out the open doors and into the night.

~x~

Yes, he knew he looked incredibly stupid right now—running through the crowd with small tears dotting his eyes and cheeks. He didn't even know where he had gotten off at, nor where he was going. He just knew he couldn't stand another second with that inconsiderate bastard.

After running for five minutes at full speed, Romano finally started to slow down as his breathing was getting heavier and the adrenaline started to wane.

He should have never taken an interest in the attractive stranger and his wonderful smile. Taking chances and letting people in only brought trouble and hurt. And for a second, he actually believed Antonio cared about him. He laughed at his own foolishness. The charming man had everything going for him that Romano didn't. Why would he ever need someone like Romano in his life, who frowned too much and complained about everything?

He wiped his eyes on his sleeve. This was it then. He wouldn't see the bastard anymore. It was for the best. No more going to the coffee shop. No more riding the same train. No more smiling or laughing or—

A rigid grip on his right arm had him spinning around to face an exhausted and wheezing Antonio, who was bent over trying to catch his breath and hand still holding the Italian's blue shirt as if he was afraid he would run away. They stood there awkwardly, Romano's silence and Antonio's breathing filling the night.

Antonio finally looked at him. His green eyes were fierce and unwavering, as if a grassy fire was burning in them.

"Why…why did you run?" He asked in between breaths. Romano stared at the ground and frowned.

"Y-you look like you're about to kill over. You shouldn't have come after me, idiot!"

Antonio stood up and moved closer the boy. He raised his fingers and swiped away the tears that had littered his face.

"Why are you crying?" He asked quietly, eyes locking with Romano's. The auburn-haired boy shifted his eyes away but didn't pull away from the Spaniard's hands.

"I-I'm not, you bastard. Leave me alone."

"Romano."

Reluctantly, the boy forced himself to look up at the strong man in front of him. For the first time, Romano saw a look of anger in the man's eyes as he slid his hand down to cup the Italian's cheek.

"Tell me what's wrong."

The boy broke eye contact again and nibbled on his lip.

"…Nothing's wrong." He whispered weakly.

Antonio sighed and let go of his face. Romano instantly missed his warmth once the cold air attacked his skin. Turning to the boy, the Spaniard shot him a determined look.

"Ok. If you won't talk. I'll just have to make you."

Romano gave him a questioning gaze.

"What are you—Ah!" Antonio swept him off his feet and threw him over his shoulder. Stunned for a moment, Romano recovered and attacked his back, hiding his embarrassed face from the people wearing shocked expressions as they passed down the street.

"I'll kill you, asshole! Put me down!"

Antonio didn't answer and kept walking. After a few minutes of fruitless protesting, Romano gave up fighting and hung upside down. The blood flooded to his head causing him to groan.

"I hate you, bastard. This is the most embarrassing moment of my life." He moaned helplessly. Romano never felt happier than to feel the vibrations of laughter underneath him as Antonio spoke.

"I'm sure they've seen worse. If you had just talked, I wouldn't have had to do this~!"

"Yeah, yeah. Can't do anything now," he muttered under his breath and looked around, "Where are we going?" Nothing looked familiar upside down.

"My place!" Antonio chirped.

Romano blamed gravity for the massive blood rush to his head.

"Tomato bastard, I barely know you! How do I know you're not going to kill me?"

Antonio chuckled and hummed. "You're too cute to kill! Besides, I feel like I've know you for a long time. Or like I'm supposed to know you forever."

The Italian stayed silent and let the words sink in. It did seem like it, and he didn't feel that scared. Not that he couldn't take on the man, of course! After a couple minutes, Romano was starting to feel lightheaded and tapped on the boy's head.

"Let me down. I can walk now."

Antonio laughed and patted his ass twice, causing the Italian to jump before putting he touched the ground. Romano stepped away from him and pointed an accusatory finger at the Spaniard.

"You pervert!"

The man chuckled and shoved his hands in his pockets. "You're too cute. I couldn't resist~"

"I told you. I'm not cute…bastard." Romano muttered with a pout on his face. They walked in comfortable silence before Antonio nudged him and pointed out a large modern building.

"We're here!"

The boy followed him up the path and onto the stairs of the apartment complex. The Spaniard stopped on the third floor and went four doors down before pulling out his keys from his backpack. He jingled the various keys around till he found the right one, and, once he did, grinned and pushed the key into the door. He stepped away from the doorway and bowed, gesturing a hand towards the inside.

"After you."

Romano blushed and huffed, muttering venom-less insults under his breath as he walked into the apartment. It was a larger flat than he expected, but, in its entirety, the epitome of what he'd expect a college guy's apartment to look like. It wasn't very clean nor decorated. Papers were scattered around the floor while Styrofoam containers filled with half-finished food and dishes littered the place.

He heard the shaky laugh of the man behind him. "It's a little cluttered. I have two other roommates."

Romano scoffed. "What? At least one of you could get off your asses to do a little cleaning! This place looks worse than my brother's room." He stepped over the trash and made his way to the kitchen, which seemed to hold the only space to stand freely. Antonio followed him.

"They're busy with work so they don't have a lot of time. Or they're usually too tired," he chuckled and added, "I usually am too."

The Italian crossed his arms and leaned against the counter, giving the bastard a pointed look.

"What do you do anyway?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, he moved across from him and mirrored his stance.

"Oh! I haven't told you yet. I'm studying photography at the local arts college. I love to take pictures of sceneries—especially nature—and candid moments of people."

Romano hummed. So he went to his school after all. Though, the photography department was across campus the other direction. That explained why he never saw him. The boy cocked his head.

"I'm in the paint and drawing department there."

"How weird! We go to the same school!" Antonio declared cheerfully and asked, "What do you draw?"

The boy thought back to the many sketches in his book of the Spaniard in front of him. He coughed and tried to change the subject.

"Nothing special. So, photography? You any good?"

Antonio flashed that beautiful smile of his—he admitted it was nice, all right?—and pointed at his fridge.

Raising an eyebrow, the Italian moved his eyes to look at the pictures scattered all over the refrigerator. Romano was impressed. He had believed that they were postcards or something when he passed by. They were mostly of scenery—of mountains and sunsets. Some had people in them, specifically two men he did not recognize but looked annoying by the look on their smug faces.

Unconsciously, Romano lifted his hand to feel all the pictures, as if they would come to life if he did so.

"They're beautiful." He whispered in a trance. Antonio stood there stunned, surprised by the first compliment he had ever received from the man. Romano blinked and realized his mistake as he stepped back.

"I-I mean, they aren't bad. You take too much of nature, bastard."

Antonio let out a brilliant laugh much stronger and addicting than all his others.

"Wha-what's so funny, jerk?" Romano interrogated as red covered his face. He shyly held up a finger to his mouth and nibbled nervously on his nail.

"You look like a tomato again," Antonio moved forward, and a more seductive tone suddenly filled his voice, "I want to eat you up."

Romano swallowed but didn't respond with an insult. How could he, when he was lost in those green eyes that captured his own?
"W-wha—what are you saying…" He trailed off as the Spaniard forced him back. Antonio placed his hands on both sides of the Italian, officially pinning him to the counter. He felt like prey trapped by a predator, but he didn't try to move away.

In fact, he seemed to be moving towards him, too.

Romano felt Antonio's hot breath on his face, sending a shiver down his back as the man over him moved downwards, almost reaching his lips—

"Antonio, mon ami~! Are you home?"

An accented voice filled the air, breaking Romano out of the trance. A long-haired, blonde man that Romano recognized from the pictures came from around the corner. Romano shoved Antonio away as far as he could and attempted to cover the raging blush on his face. The blonde just smirked all-knowingly and leaned against the door frame.

"Well, well, well~ Did I interrupt something?"

Antonio, who was nursing his back from the impact of the counter, held a look that almost bordered on dangerous as he locked eyes with his roommate and friend. But just as fast as it had come, it was gone, replaced with his usual smile.

"Hola, Francis. What are you doing home?" Francis inspected his nails, which were perfectly filed.

"Ah, I turned in the manuscript early. Now," Francis' eyes shifted to Romano, "Won't you introduce me to this handsome young monsieur~?"

Romano crossed his arms and ignored the hungry glare in the Frenchman's eyes. Antonio stepped in front of him and laughed awkwardly.

"This is Romano." He turned to Romano and gestured to the blonde man. "And this is Francis."

Francis bowed.

"Pleasure~"

"Screw you."

The Frenchman, who was not affected by the Italian's rude nature, flicked his hair and winked at Romano.

"Oh ho ho~ You're a feisty one."

Romano growled, ready to attack him, but was pulled back by Antonio, who was chuckling. The bastard!

"Do you mind giving us some time to speak?"

Francis pouted and then grinned. "Trying to get rid of me, mon ami? I just got here. And I brought you churros."

He held up a brown paper bag. Antonio beamed.

"Oh, Churros! Gracias." Antonio snatched the bag like a kid would candy, and started munching on the cylinder sugary snacks. He turned to Romano, who was staring incredulously at him, and held one out to him.

"Want one?"

Mouth still open, Romano shook his head and scowled.

"I'm not wasting any more time with you churro bastards. Ciao." He stalked out of the cramped kitchen, navigating around the two perplexed men and heading for the front door. It took a moment for the Spaniard to catch up and run after him.

"Romano, wait!"

The Italian turned to face him and clicked his tongue.

"What do you want, bastard?"

"Just stop… stop running away, please." Antonio pleaded, resting his hands on the boy's shoulders. Romano's eyes widened at his serious tone and looked down at their feet.

"I'm not…I really have to go home. It's past nine and my brother's already texted thirty fucking times… He's waiting outside." He told truthfully and pointed his thumb towards the outside.

Antonio blinked blankly and laughed downward.

"Sorry," he let go of his shoulders, "I didn't know Francis was going come home early and—" Romano cut in before he could say any more embarrassing things.

"It's ok. Really, idiot." The Spaniard smiled and pulled the Italian into a hug. The younger struggled against him.

"H-hey! Get off me, bastard!"

Antonio laughed sweetly and let him go.

"Goodnight, Romano."

The boy stared at him for a moment before unexpectedly blushing and looking away again. Antonio cocked his head questionably and was about to ask him what was wrong when Romano placed a quick but sweet kiss on his cheek.

The Spaniard stood there stunned, hand shooting up to feel the heat radiating on his skin. Blushing madly and frowning, Romano backed out the doorway.

"Goodnight, tomato bastard."

And then he slammed the door in his face.

A/N: Tsundere much, Romano? :)