Spain had been gone longer than he'd intended, but that only made it that much sweeter to finally be home.
The first thing he'd done when arriving back was strip off his armor and dirty, bloody clothes and take a bath. The warm water had felt so good to his aching muscles, he'd nearly fallen asleep. Spain had gotten pretty beaten up, but he knew he would hardly know it in a few days after a few days of resting. Then once he'd healed, he would be preparing for his next voyage, where victory was certain this time!
After his bath he'd dressed and got something to eat since it was growing late. It wasn't until about halfway through his meal he realized that something was amiss. It was quiet, too quiet. Where was Romano? Any other day he would hear him by now, whether the kid was mouthing off at him for being hungry or whether he was knocking over a bookcase or something else, his presence was always made known. But not this time, Spain immediately felt worried.
"I saw him when you arrived, I'm sure he's around so I wouldn't worry too much about him," Belgium told him when she noticed the concern etched on his features.
He took a final bite out of his meal before nodding to her, "You're right, I worry for nothing. Gracias."
After dinner he poured himself a glass of wine and made his way outside. It was a beautiful summer night, with the stars bright in the sky and a gentle breeze that ruffled his damp hair ever so slightly. Behind his house he had a small hammock, which he enjoyed taking siestas in when it wasn't too hot out. It was also the perfect place to stargaze, which is what he found himself doing as he nursed his glass.
He only looked at the stars when he had a lot on his mind, which was usually right after he returned from his travels and when he'd had a glass of wine. He found himself thinking about Romano, and wondering where he was. Was he hiding from him? Was he angry or upset with him for some reason? He normally didn't take this long to make his grand appearance. Spain sighed before finishing the glass of wine and setting the empty glass on a nearby table.
How long he was out there, he didn't know, but suddenly someone was climbing into the hammock and perching themselves on Spain's stomach, causing the older nation to wince. He looked up to see a pair of bright green eyes, very similar to his own, staring back at him.
"Oh, hola Romano," he said, only a little surprised by the kid's sudden appearance. He was getting less clumsy and was able to sneak up and surprise him easier now. When Spain had first obtained Romano, he could hear the kid coming from a mile away. That was clearly not the case anymore, and it slightly saddened the Spaniard.
Romano merely blinked in response to Spain's greeting, before looking up at the sky without a word. Spain wanted to say something, maybe ask Romano a question on how things were while he was gone, but found he couldn't find the right words. Instead he studied Romano while the boy was seemingly oblivious. Other things had changed besides the child's newly acquired stealth.
He'd grown a bit, that was for sure. At least half an inch, maybe even a little more. He'd also lost a bit of his baby chubbiness, but his face itself hadn't changed much. His eyes, once amber, had been slowly transitioning to green the past few months. Now they were almost entirely green, like Spain's. He'd heard that hazel eyes could change from brown to green, but the change still fascinated him. Romano's hair had also been cut recently, most likely by Belgium, who was the only person he allowed to cut his hair besides Spain himself.
When he'd taken in just about every inch of Romano's small frame, he looked back up at the sky and stared up at the stars. Romano may have changed, but the Spanish sky had not. The stars were all exactly the same as he remembered them, and he found it comforting to know that no matter how much his little Italian changed, some things never would.
After a short time Romano yawned and reached up to rub the tiredness from his eyes. It was very late now, and a responsible hermano would have taken him to bed. But Spain was too comfortable to get up, so he instead pretended not to notice Romano's drooping eyes.
Eventually Romano decided to put himself to sleep, and lowered himself down so that he lay on his stomach, his head resting on Spain's chest. He took small fistfuls of Spain's shirt in his hands, as though to make sure the big stupid bastard didn't go anywhere while he was sleeping, which was fine with Spain. He didn't intend to go anywhere for a little while.
Reaching up, he ran his fingers through Romano's dark hair before placing a hand on his back, rubbing small circles on it comfortingly to further lull the little one to sleep. Any other time Romano would have headbutted him or kicked him for even touching him, but not tonight. Tonight Romano clung tighter to Spain, unwilling to let him go anywhere and not minding his gentle touch.
"Bienvenido a casa idiota," Romano muttered sleepily.
Smiling, Spain placed a kiss on the top of Romano's head, "Buenas noches hermanito, te amo."
"Te amo," Romano replied under his breath, almost inaudibly. Spain heard it anyway, and the words made him feel incredibly happy inside.
When Romano was finally asleep, Spain closed his own eyes and began to drift off. Tomorrow Romano would be back to being the spoiled brat he always was, and it would be as though this moment hadn't happened. Only in reality, it had happened, many times before tonight, and was certain to happen many times in the future. It had always been the same; Spain would leave, and return to a Romano unable to express just how happy he was to have the Spaniard back.
So instead they'd merely sit together in silence, staring at the stars and being comforted by simply being together. Romano always held onto him in one way or another, as though that would stop Spain from leaving ever again. The first few times Romano had even cried when Spain returned, hugging his legs tightly until the older country bent to his level and picked him up, hugging him tightly and rubbing their cheeks together. Now Romano was simply withdrawn, and quietly sought comfort from Spain upon his return. Spain would often take advantage of the moment, cuddling Romano and stroking his hair, things the kid normally never permitted. Except on return day.
Perhaps someday Romano's clinging would work, Spain thought to himself, for each time he spent a tender moment with Romano it became harder and harder to leave again. Well, then maybe next time he'd just have to take Romano with him! Because nothing, not even his beloved little Romano, was going to stop him from conquering the seas!
It's kinda hard to write Romano and Spain fluff, mostly because of how much Romano pretends to hate Spain. So, that's why this story is the shortest so far. Perhaps in the future I'll be able to write a better story for these two. Next story is looking to be either America/England or HRE/Austria. I'm also still open to suggestions! Thanks so much for the reviews and favorites! And thanks for reading!
