Summary; It's Lovino's first winter in New York. One morning, he goes out only to later finds that he has lost his mittens and decides to retrace his steps. What he didn't expect to find was the Spanish bum who stole them.

Rating;T for now, but it may go up.

Warnings for this chapter; Language.

Pairings;Spamano. I may think of more as the plot develops in my head.

Disclaimer;I do not own Hetalia or the characters. I am only using them.

Notes; Oh gosh, this chapter is WAAAAY better than the first! Dx
I'm actually super fucking proud of it, so I hope you all enjoy~

That night, Lovino allowed his brother to stay over. N - Not because he particularly cared or anything! He just didn't want to have to hear all of Feliciano's bitching and whining if he decided to call when he arrived back at his own apartment. He definitely wasn't worried that his airhead of a little fratello would get lost in the midst of this damned blizzard. Nope, definitely not.

"It's been so long since we've been able to spend a nice day together, Lovino." The younger Italian cooed, easily snuggling up to his brother's side; somehow they both managed to fit onto Lovino's bed.

"What the hell are you saying? Working in the restaurant together isn't nice?" The elder snorted, pretending that he minded his brother's touchy nature. He wasn't pulling him closer or anything like that...

"It's not that -" a little yawn "-but, I like spending time outside of work with my fratellone." Feliciano explained, nuzzling into the crook of his brother's warm, sun-kissed shoulder.

"Whatever, idiota. Go to bed." The elder of the two muttered, embarrassed and cheeks slightly flushed as he gently knocked Feli on the head with the backs of his knuckles. To this, a delighted little giggle bubbled from the Northern Italian and he quipped a slightly tired "si!" before settling down and relaxing in Lovino's arms. Soon enough, the only sound encompassing the room was the slow, languid drip-drop of the oil heater in the corner next to the wardrobe... As well as the sound of their mixed breathing with the occasional, sleepy mumble.

ooo

The next morning, Lovino awoke to a dull, gray light struggling through his blinds. It wasn't nearly as unpleasant as the shrieking alarm clock, but he still found it in himself to grumble as he untangled himself from Feliciano and pushed his body up into a sitting position. After blinking away the blurry patches in his vision and rubbing the crusty sleep from his hazel eyes, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and planted his feet upon the ground. Feliciano was, of course, still sound asleep, shivering as he cuddled into the cool pillow that had quickly replaced his older brother's warm body.

Deciding to allow his brother sleep the morning away, Lovino quietly padded over towards the blinds and shut out the cracks before near silently leaving the room. This minor disruption in his morning schedule, having his brother over for once, wasn't something that bothered Lovino in the least... Not having any coffee, however, did bother him.

The suddenly enraged (and still very tired) Southern Italian began to go through every single one of his cupboards, slamming them when he found all of them to be completely devoid of his precious coffee. "Damn it all!" he grumbled, quietly sliding out of the kitchen (as he was suddenly conscious of his sleeping fratello, and idly wondered how the hell he could sleep through all of that).

Seeing no other alternative, Lovino began to get ready to go and purchase some new coffee beans, hoping that the Turkish bastard would have his shop open this early; it was only about eight-thirty in the morning, much too early to have to go without his morning cup of joe. After sneaking back into his bedroom (finding that Feliciano was, amazing as it was, still sound asleep) and getting quickly dressed in his daily clothes -slacks and a plain button-up shirt- the Italian threw on a fur-rimmed coat and slipped out of the front door, though not before writing a quick -and slightly sarcastic- note to his brother:

"Feli,

There's no more coffee, so I went out to buy some. Thanks for drinking all of it last night, bastard.

-Lovino"

ooo

He crunched through the once virgin snow, moodily making his way to the specialty coffee shop a few blocks away from his apartment complex. Lovino wasn't paying too much attention tp his surroundings, as he was absolutely determined to get his coffee, so he hadn't noticed when a pair of mittens (forest green with dark blue stripes) slipped from his pocket.

No wonder his hands were so damn cold...

A sharp right turn down the sidewalk, into the slightly shadier part of the city, and a few blocks later, Lovino found himself standing in front of the Turkish man's shop. The outside looked poor - a crooked-hanging sign was held up by just one nail, deep red and dusty curtains covered up the grimy windows so that no one could really see through them (except for the small one centred in the old wooden door). All the Italian cared to see was that the little wooden sign read open.

"Oi! You in here, bastard?" He called as he walked through the creaky doorway; a small chiming of a bell signalled his arrival. Without so much as waiting for an answer, he began to look through the selection of coffee beans, which were derived from all over the world. Being a very proud Southern Italian, Lovino usually preferred Italian coffee over anything else, his favourite being Robusta beans since they were quite popular in Sicily. Unfortunately, it looked like they didn't have any in stock, but it was quite rare to find the exact Sicilian specialty at any store, really.

While he was busy trying to decide between the Spanish Torrefacto and Arabic Yemen beans, the shops co-owner, Heracles, shuffled out from the back of the store. "Ah... Hello, Lovino." He called out, leaning on his arms against the counter as he watched the Italian run a hand through his hair as he tried to decide. Lovino gave a sigh before he turned towards the Grecian, giving a slight nod. "Morning. Turk isn't here?" He asked conversationally, exhaustion and irritation both clear in his voice.

"Not today. Apparently he's sick." Heracles gave a grimace, shaking his head. Sadiq was helpless when he was sick, to the point where not even his lover (yes, lover, it was a very little known fact that the two were together, though it was quite... Love-hate) didn't want to be around.

Lovino gave a snort, rolling his eyes. "And you didn't want to have to baby him." He guessed, spot-on. He and the Grecian got on quite well, in spite of them being polar opposites. Heracles was stoic and usually rather calm (except when it came to being around a certain Turk) and Lovino was expressive and quite overdramatic. It was hard to not calm down around someone so mellow and nonchalant.

"No." The man behind the counter answered simply. "And by the way... Try the new Spanish Torrefacto, it's actually pretty good. A little more pricey, though." He added as a suggestion, seeing that the Italian was obviously having trouble deciding which coffee to pick.

After a few seconds, Lovino shrugged and proceeded to fill up two sacks of the Spanish coffee beans, trusting his friend's taste. When the price was brought up, the younger man's eyes went a bit wide. Pricey indeed. "Fifteen dollars and forty-seven cents will be your total. It's worth it." Heracles assured the other as he handed over the correct amount of bills and change.

"It better be, Karpusi." Lovino warned, though there was no real threat behind what he said. There never was, the Southern Italian had a tenancy to throw around these kinds of empty threats and the Greek had learned that after months of dealing with servicing the man. As he left, Lovino gave a quick wave, the bell hanging near the door gave a light chime when the door was opened and closed... And then he was gone, heading back to his apartment complex with two bags full of what better turn out to be the best fucking coffee he'd ever had.

ooo

By the time Lovino walked through his apartment's door, the smell of what promised to be a delicious breakfast along with the sound of his brother's soft humming wafted through the small room. Curious, the elder brother peeked into the kitchen, watching at his brother knelt down to check on what smelt like his homemade cinnamon coffee cake. Ironic, especially considering the recipe doesn't actually call for any coffee... Rather, it was meant to balance the bitter taste of coffee. "Buongiorno, I've got the coffee." He stated, waltzing into the kitchen and setting on bag on the counter, placing the other inside of his lazy Susan. "It's a new Spanish brand, Heracles recommended it." He gave a shrug, plugging in the grinder and readying the coffee maker.

"Oh, that sounds nice, Lovi!" Feliciano cooed, hopping up on the counter and watching as his brother set to work.

Within half an hour the coffee was made and the coffee cake was done, both brothers sat at Lovino's small dining room table, eager to try the coffee. "If it's shit, I'm going to return it." Lovino grumbled, lifting the coffee up and giving it a sniff.

"I'm sure it's fine!" Feliciano assured his brother optimistically. At the exact same time, they both went to take their first sip of this new coffee... They were pleasantly surprised. The coffee was bitter, yet because the beans were glazed in some kind of sugar there was also this slight kind of sweetness to it, and it was a bit earthy, but in the sense that one could tell the beans were very fresh and of high quality.

"I guess that bastard was right, it was worth the money..." Lovino admitted after a moment.

Feliciano gave him a grin along with a nod of agreement, "Si! It's really good! I like it better than the Robusta or Yemen beans you usually get, fratello!" He said, eagerly going for another sip.

Breakfast was soon finished; the dirty dishes were washed by hand and stacked away by none other than Feliciano, who received an embarrassed "grazie" along with a kiss to the cheek. In spite of what most others thought, Lovino was actually quite caring towards Feliciano. After all, they were brothers and while they were raised by their grandfather they had both become quite family oriented, as most Italians were. Yes, he often yelled at his brother and even called him names, but he loved Feliciano nonetheless and sometimes his irate and stubborn nature didn't always allow him to show such a feeling.

"Let me walk you home. You might get lost again." Lovino muttered, rolling his eyes as the younger brother sat in the middle of the living room and pulled on his boots. The tip of his little, pink tongue poked out as he shoved his foot inside of each one, and then he finally gave an answer.

"Okay! It'll be fun!" He agreed quickly, standing up and going to pull on his jacket as Lovino went to do the same. In minutes, they were out the door and on their way towards Feliciano's place. He actually lived right above their restaurant, and for awhile Lovino had lived with him, but the space proved to be much too small so the elder brother offered to give the space up to Feliciano, since it meant that he wouldn't have to pay as much rent or deal with asshole neighbours.

Feliciano chattered on about useless things, and Lovino simply nodded along, humouring his brother as best as he could. Honestly, he'd like to be more like his little brother. The Northerner was so much more likeable and cute, that people had a tenancy to flock towards him, and he always accepted them with a genuine smile while Lovino tended to sit at the sidelines, watching with an envious glint in those hazel eyes. Oftentimes he feared that Feliciano would just go off with some odd stranger -no questions asked- because he was so kind and trusting (unless the person happened to look particularly scary). This was why Lovino came off as overprotective and overbearing; because he cared. In the back of his mind, he was sure that his younger brother always understood these things, but it was a subject that both tended to skirt around.

"Addio, Lovino! I'll see you tomorrow morning when we open back up!" Feliciano smiled, leaning forward and kissing both of his brother's cheeks, a gesture that Lovino quickly returned. "Si, tomorrow. Ciao." Lovino gave a small wave as he watched his brother go inside, and only when the door was shut did he turn on his heel and start back home.

It was that exact moment when he reached inside of his left pocket that he realised that his mittens were missing... "Goddamn it!" He let out, furiously rubbing his hands together. He must have lost them this morning, when he was walking to get coffee. Retracing his steps wouldn't be too hard, as his brother's home was just a little further away than the coffee shop was, actually. With a sigh of resignation, he trudged back home, looking everywhere as he made his way down the sidewalk, hands shoved deep in his pockets in attempts to keep them warm.

Why hadn't he noticed this earlier, damn it? Shouldn't he have felt them slip out of hi - -?

Oh?

Well, this was certainly different... The Italian bit at his lip as he gazed over the man who was slumbering on the bus stop bench (the bus stop was actually out of order now, it wasn't uncommon to see bums relaxing near the area). He didn't actually look too old... Perhaps only a few years older than Lovino was. His sun-kissed cheeks were tinted slightly pink, his chocolate brown curls were splayed around his face, eyes shut as he curled into himself, layers of clothes being the only things that were keeping him warm...

Along with Lovino's mittens.

They actually looked like they were too small, as Lovino could see that the man's fingers were curled on the inside of them. His face rested upon the large fists as he slept, chest heaving up and down at a pace that indicated he was sleeping quite deeply.

And the Italian was frozen in place, eyes slightly wide. He wasn't sure why this shocked him so much, and why he didn't just wake the damn guy up and demand to have his mittens back. Perhaps because it was actually kind of heartbreaking to see someone who would actually pick up mittens off of the ground and wear them, even when they were too small for their hands. A frown found its way onto Lovino's face as he stood there for a moment, hands curling and uncurling in his pocket as he idly wondered what the man had done during the blizzard, why he was out here, who he was... And why the hell did Lovino -of all people- care?

Giving a light huff, Lovino reached up and grabbed his hat, throwing it on the ground next to the man. He wasn't sure what he was thinking, perhaps he wasn't even thinking at all. Who was to say that the man would even notice his hat? It was too late to turn back, though, for Lovino was already stomping back towards his apartment complex, hat and mittens both left behind to that stranger.