D: This is really, really late.
I'm so sorry orz I tried to get this out earlier but I really only finished it about two minutes ago so yeah. That also means there was no proofreading :D I suck.
Spain is back in this chapter; aren't you excited? Don't worry, his personality will be explained in time. I didn't realize this story would be so long, but hey, why not? *ahem* Okay, I'll stop talking now.
Here ya go ;)
…
"After a crippling series of terrorist attacks on Paris, France, major world leaders have been coming together to discuss the best course of action. The attacks were initiated by what appear to be right-wing groups from areas of northern Spain, and in a completely unprovoked assault on President Nicolas Sarkozy hundreds were wounded."
Lovino's eyes opened slowly as the sounds of a radio…or maybe a television…crept into his consciousness. He took a deep breath, cutting it short as pain stabbed into his side. His thoughts flicked to the fight on the street. Then the rest of the day rushed to him, and for the first time he became aware of his surroundings.
There was a hand on the top of his head, lazily running through his hair. His head was resting on something soft…a leg. He swallowed, eyes widening. In front of him there was a carpet…a wooden cabinet…a television…the news was on. Fingers continued to the nape of his neck, and he shuddered. Don't move…don't move…don't let them know you're awake…maybe this is all a dream…
But Lovino couldn't keep it up as the fingers started to dance down his neck and back up to his hair. His head shot up, and he lost his balance. There was a cry of surprise, and he fell off of the sofa. Landing on the carpet, he looked up at the other person sitting there.
Immediately his mouth was dry. Spain smiled, the warmth of the gesture showing all across his face. Then he slid off the couch, sitting in front of Lovino on the floor. The smile didn't leave his face as his hand came up to caress the younger man's face.
"Good morning, sunshine."
Lovino didn't move, staring blankly at Spain. Well, he thought, at least there won't be any more searching. Then he swallowed, his hand coming up to meet the one brushing his cheek. For a moment he fought with words, before finally landing on the only one that mattered.
"Why?"
Spain looked a bit confused, but it was still so damn pleasant. "Why what?"
"You know."
For a moment a sad look drifted across Spain's face. "I had a feeling you'd bring that up." He sighed. "I overreacted."
"You think?"
Lovino was finally starting to gain his bearings again. He grabbed Spain's wrist, pulling the hand from his face. It was hard to do…but after the events of the past few days he was in no mood to be doing anything of that sort. Spain stared at him for a moment, as though searching for something.
"It got out of hand. I'm sorry. I'll apologize."
"You better do it quick."
"Mi Lovi, don't be angry."
"England's going to beat your ass into the ground. I'm not fucking angry."
There was a rustling of fabric as Spain stood up. He offered a hand to Lovino, who refused. As he stood up, however, he was immediately dizzy. Not having noticed it before he realized he had a horrible headache.
"Are you okay?"
"What did you do to the cab?"
There was no malice; if anything just plain curiosity. Spain chucked lightly, his hand darting out to help Lovino keep his balance. The younger man pushed the arm away, fingers coming up to massage his aching temples.
"It wasn't my idea, trust me."
"That's not what I asked."
"I'm not sure. Hermán said it wouldn't hurt you."
"Did he say anything about fucking cracking my head open?"
Spain didn't have an answer to that, except for a hand coming up to feel Lovino's forehead. No, you idiot, I'm not sick.
It was kind of ridiculous how easy it was to talk to Spain right now. Before he had seemed unreachable and cold, and so completely unlike himself and now…now he was absolutely normal. He was acting as stupid and naïve and fucking charming as usual. (Not that Lovino said that. He was still pissed at him.)
"Oh! I almost forgot!"
Lovino looked up at Spain in annoyance.
"Who was that girl you were with?"
"Nobody important."
"But she was with you in the taxi! And she got picked up with you too. Is she someone special?"
"No."
"Why won't you answer me?"
"Why are you so annoying?"
Spain's mouth flattened into a straight line. "Who is she?"
It was unexpected, the sudden change of mood. Lovino froze, mouth open, as he examined the look on Spain's face.
"She's was helping me look for you," he said carefully.
It took a second, but just as suddenly as before Spain's mood changed. "Oh! You were looking for me? How sweet!" Before Lovino could respond he'd been wrapped up into a hug.
"Yeah, yeah." But Lovino made no move to escape the embrace. Spain's moods changed more dramatically that Kelly's. And some of his…some of them were scarier. Lovino wasn't quite used to this yet, and he wasn't sure he'd ever be.
Come to think of it, over the past few days he hadn't been thinking of Spain as he used to. There were no more lewd dreams, no more silently planning to spend the most time possible with the older man…nothing. It had only been a day, but it was still weird.
That had to have been why he was so surprised when he felt Spain press a light kiss to the side of his neck. It took a second to process, and then he realized that it was him and it was Spain and Spain was kissing him and…and…
"Uh…what are you…" Lovino didn't move.
Spain planted another soft kiss just a bit higher up the younger man's neck, and Lovino swallowed thickly. Think angry thoughts. Think angry thoughts. Ah…why did this have to feel so good? Dammit.
Spain continued up Lovino's neck, kissing each spot slowly and softly. Lovino made a small noise and he could feel Spain smiling. As those goddamn…damn perfect…stupid…Jesus…as Spain's lips reached the base of his ear they released.
"I missed you," Spain whispered into Lovino's ear, earning him a shudder. No, dammit! I'm pissed at him! I'm goddamn ANGRY.
But he wasn't. The Spain he'd been angry with wasn't this one. It wasn't the sweet, loving, kind Spain that he had known his whole life. That one was still the same. He felt no fear, no anger when he was with this Spain. The real one.
"Um…me too."
Lovino's voice was small, and Spain smiled a bit sadly. "I'm really sorry about before. I don't know what came over me…"
"Y'know. It's okay." Lovino looked down.
"No, no. It's not. Lo siento, mi dispiace."
Spain always used languages besides English when he was trying to appeal to Lovino. And…well, it didn't work, per se…ah, what the hell. It worked. Lovino relaxed a little, and for the first time decided to look around.
The room was of an average size for a New York apartment, which meant that it was quite small. The loveseat and the television took up a good three-quarters of it, and it was all a quite drab off-white. A single window was on the other end, and it opened up to a beautiful view of the construction being done on the building. All in all it was entirely nondescript, and so very unlike Spain.
Suddenly, a very pressing concern took over Lovino's senses.
"Food."
Spain looked up suddenly as Lovino spoke. His eyes must have been wandering. "Hm?
"I'm fucking starving."
Lovino hadn't eaten for more than a day and he felt like he was about to implode. Immediately his mind turned from Spain to food. Any food. Jesus, he wanted food.
Spain laughed. "Okay. Okay. What do you want?"
"I don't know, you tell me."
"Pasta it is."
The fact that Spain had stocked the small apartment with spaghetti and other ingredients already should have been creepy, but when accompanied by the fact that Spain was going to be making him food and oh sweet Jesus food Lovino plopped back down on the couch, leaning his head back as Spain moved about the kitchen in the next room. After a few minutes some lovely smells came wafting in. At least Spain could cook.
A little while later and Lovino was sitting in front of a beautiful-looking plate of pasta, stomach rumbling loudly. They sat on opposite sides of the kitchen table, and without further ado Lovino dug in.
"Good?"
Lovino held up one finger as he chewed through the first bite, swallowing dramatically. He stared off into the middle distance for a moment before raising his eyebrows.
"It's passable."
"Oh, thank you, your highness."
"Better fucking believe it."
Spain grinned and Lovino took another bite. It was really pretty good, and although the sauce could have been better Lovino didn't say anything. Mostly because he was distracted by something else.
"You just gonna stare at me the whole time?"
"Maybe."
"Stalker." But Lovino finished his meal without further comment.
When he was done Spain picked up the plate, and Lovino followed him to the sink. Spain washed it quickly, Lovino watching him in silence. After drying his hands on a dishtowel the older man turned to him.
"Are you mad at me?"
Was he? "I don't know." And for good measure, "Bastard."
"I'll make it up to you, I promise. Would you like to go out for dinner tonight?"
"Can't."
Spain was surprised at that. "What other pressing obligations could you have?" His voice was light and sweet, if not a bit mocking.
"We need to go talk to England."
There was a pause. "Why?"
Lovino sighed. "Because he got all touchy and now if we don't he's going all Rambo on your ass. America too."
Spain seemed to ponder this for a second. "He won't do that right away, will he?"
"I don't know. Let's go ask him."
Lovino felt Spain's arms curl around him, pulling him tight, and he honestly couldn't help the little flip in his stomach. Spain leaned in to his ear again.
"We have a little time," he whispered huskily, and Lovino felt a chill run down his spine. Once again he was at a loss for words…and goddammit…he really had nothing to say to that. What was there to say? Haha, there sure is? He bit onto his lower lip lightly, staring ahead at the cabinets on the wall.
They stayed that way for a moment before Spain spoke again. "You were asleep a long time. I could barely help myself…"
Under any other circumstances Lovino would have hit Spain for being such a creep, but his mind got stuck on what had been said before that. "How long?"
"Just a day. I'm glad you're awake now," Spain smiled a bit lewdly. Lovino's breath caught.
"I'm not gonna fucking run out of time. We have to go back. Now."
"I think…" Spain's breath was far too hot, and Lovino felt his resolve crumbling. "I think there's more than enough time."
"Sure, but…"
"Shhh."
Lovino suddenly found his mouth occupied. He froze, becoming stiff in Spain's arms. The older man started to gently encourage him, tilting his head to the side and making the kiss harder.
After a moment Lovino gave up. When Spain was right there, kissing him, holding him…it was the third time something like this had happened in the past day and he wasn't going to push it away now. His lips started moving on their own, and Spain smiled into the kiss. He pulled Lovino closer.
This was the easy way out, and Lovino knew it. He knew that if this were some movie he wouldn't be doing this. If he had any discipline or morals he wouldn't be doing this. But fuck it, Spain was kissing him, and he was going to damn well let him. And Spain was sure taking the opportunity. He leaned in so their bodies were pressed tight against each other, deepening the kiss as much as possible.
Lovino relaxed, lips and tongue sliding against Spain's. His arms wrapped around the back of the other man's neck, and for just a moment…just for a single moment everything seemed fine. He hadn't realized how much he'd wanted this. He really hadn't. And it was overwhelming.
They broke apart, Spain staring at Lovino intensely. "I'm glad you came after me."
"…yeah."
Oh, how fucking articulate. Yeah. Was that all he could come up with? Lovino glared at the taller man, but he made no move to break the embrace. Spain was really warm. Not that he hadn't found that out when he was a small child and still under Spain's control (shut up, he wasn't a pedophile), but it was still very nice.
Lovino looked up at Spain for a moment before speaking. "Where were you?"
Spain's arms left Lovino's body, flying out to the sides. "Right here," he said, before returning to Lovino's hips. The younger man swallowed, trying not to smile.
"You're an idiot."
"…maybe," Spain said with a smile, leaning down to kiss Lovino again. Lovino sighed into the kiss and let his body melt into Spain's. Then the older man's lips started to travel down Lovino's neck.
The Italian man tilted his head to the side, allowing Spain more access. Soft kisses ran to his collarbone, one of his fingers hooking over the collar of his shirt and pulling it down just a little. Lovino took a deep breath, and when he let it out it turned rather embarrassingly into a weak moan. Spain laughed before leaning back in to focus on one point on Lovino's neck.
Ah…God…Lovino felt a shock run straight to his groin and he groaned. "We should…Spain…we need to go," he said, but he didn't move.
"Mmm…" Spain hummed in agreement against Lovino's neck. "We should."
"So…yeah…let's…"
"Like I said before, I think we have just a little time."
There was nothing more that Lovino could do to complain as Spain's fingers curled around the bottom of his t-shirt. They broke apart just long enough for Lovino to lift his arms and for the shirt to be discarded. He then pressed his chest up against Spain's, taking control of the kiss. Hands roamed across his back, and he wasn't sure he'd ever felt this content just being next to someone before.
Spain pulled Lovino as close as possible, and for a moment Lovino felt fine. Then a sharp pain shot through his back, right under one of Spain's hands, and he hissed, jerking away. Spain's eyes shot open and he gasped, stepping back. He stared at Lovino from arms length for a while.
Shit. The bruises. Lovino hadn't really seen them yet, and he was still wearing the clothes from the day before, so he could only imagine. Looking down, he saw a large brown and yellow spot at the base of his ribs, and some more splotches along his sides in all shades of purple and brown. Spain was silent, and Lovino felt sick to his stomach.
"Um…yeah…just listen…" Lovino's eyes wandered up to Spain's, and the look he saw there took him aback.
Spain's eyes were wide and wild, his mouth slightly open. One of his hands came up to gingerly run along the largest bruise. Then his gaze flicked to Lovino's face.
"Who did this?"
Lovino's hand came up to unconsciously rub the back of his neck. "Just some kids. It's fine."
"What did they look like?" Spain's voice was sharp and demanding. How many times was this going to happen? Lovino bit his lip.
"I didn't really see. Look, it's fine."
"Where?"
"Jesus, Spain, listen to me!"
"Someone hurt you!"
"I noticed, so calm down! You already fucked one thing up, and if you go do it again I don't care how much I like you, I'm turning you in!"
Spain seemed not to have heard him. "Where?"
"Fuck this!" Lovino grabbed his shirt off of the floor and yanked it back on. "I'm leaving!"
He started out the door, hating himself. Here he was, running away again. He couldn't even handle an argument.
A hand closed around his wrist, and he was jerked backwards. He cried out as he fell, arms flying out to try and catch himself. He landed hard on his elbows on the linoleum floor, grunting as pain shot through his arms. He took the weight off of them, cradling them in his hands.
"What the fuck?" Lovino yelled, eyes closed. He rocked back and forth just slightly, and it was only a moment later that he heard the second thud.
Spain fell to his knees, arms wrapping around Lovino. "I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…I didn't mean to…please forgive me…"
"What's wrong with you?"
Spain's voice was thick when he answered. "I don't know, I'm sorry."
"Shit, you just need to calm down."
Spain nodded, and Lovino realized that he was crying. "We should go."
The pain in Lovino's elbows was starting to subside. "I'm fine, okay? Look, I'm not dead."
"I won't do that again. I promise."
"If you do I'm kicking your ass."
"Sí, sí. Lo siento, mi Lovi." Spain stood up, helping Lovino as he did. "Debemos ir."
"That's what I've been saying all along."
…
Looking around, Lovino realized that the apartment where Spain had been wasn't too far from the hotel. So Spain had been too lazy to even get out of town. It was just like him. After further inquiry, Lovino found out that Spain had already owned it, and he had just run to it after shooting Francis. Stupid bastard couldn't even make a proper getaway.
Spain had been very quiet, and Lovino was at a loss as to why. So he pushed him over. Big whoop. That kind of stuff happened every day. There was no reason to get so worked up.
"So, what happened? Exactly?"
Lovino almost jumped at Spain's voice. "Hm?"
"What happened for you to get all those bruises? Was it a fight?" Spain was looking down at his feet.
"Just an accident. Some guys wanted to fuck with someone…and I was just kind of there, I guess. Happens all the time."
"Oh."
"You know, the cops are probably after you now. With the shooting and stuff."
Spain paused, as though he'd never considered the idea before. "Maybe. Francis will be okay, though. Right? He won't hold a grudge."
"I dunno, you ever done anything like this before?"
Spain didn't answer, piquing Lovino's interest. He shoved his hands in his pockets as the hotel came into view, and with it a wave of anxiety. This one goddamn hotel had been a bitch and now they were back at it again. Stupid meetings, stupid Spain, stupid France, stupid fucking world.
"If you don't answer I'm assuming you're a serial killer."
"I have."
Lovino was quiet for a second. "Figures."
"It was much worse back then."
Before Lovino could ask how they reached the large glass double doors of the hotel, Spain opening them first and allowing Lovino to pass through. The man behind the check-in counter looked up, his eyes went wide, and then he looked back down. Lovino could have laughed, if he wasn't on his way to go stop a war.
Spain looked like he was uncomfortable, but Lovino didn't really care. Just down that hallway, through that door, and everything would be okay again. And Jesus it needed to be. The large wooden door was closed, so Lovino opened it proudly. Here was Spain, now they could stop all this shit…
It was empty. The room was empty.
Lovino froze. Oh hell no. Spain came up behind him, looking around, but he couldn't say anything.
"Where is everyone?"
For a moment Lovino couldn't form words. Then, surprising even to his own ears, he managed to choke out: "They fucking ditched us."
Spain was deeply confused. "Were they going to stay here all week?"
Lovino felt helpless. Nobody told him he'd have to go find England, too. Jesus Christ. The fucker just loved making him work, didn't he? Lovino screamed in frustration, hands coming up to clutch at his hair. "Why?"
Spain put a hand on the younger man's shoulder. It was large and warm. Lovino sighed, relaxing a little. "They must have left something," he said, trying to be reassuring. Lovino wasn't going to stand for it.
"This is complete shit! They just fucking leave after saying they're gonna start a war, of all fucking things, and now I have no fucking way I'm going to fucking find them and fuck fuck fuck!"
Spain chuckled a little, leaving Lovino even more irritated. "It'll be fine, mi Lovi. "
"You don't understand; you never do! Everything's just all rainbows and fucking butterflies in tomato-bastard land, isn't it? Pssh, fucking war, who gives a shit?" Lovino scrunched his eyes closed, growling. He wasn't sure he'd ever felt this pissed at England before. When everything was so serious, what right did he have to just leave Lovino hanging like that? He said a week, and he was damn well going to keep that, no matter what the hell the fates wanted.
"I understand," Spain said smoothly, working Lovino's hand from its stone grip on his hair. "There's no use getting worked up, that's all."
There was no way Lovino could communicate how angry he was to the lax older man, so he didn't try. It wasn't like he should care, though, right? He didn't care about anyone, let alone Spain. He didn't give a shit half the time, and there was no reason he should start now.
But who was he kidding? He didn't want Spain to go to war. That would be like the crap topping on a shitfest and now that the crush he'd been nursing for years was being fulfilled he wasn't going to let anything compromise that. England could go suck it. They'd find him, politely hand his ass to him and leave. There we go. That was Lovino. Things were good now.
"You got tea-bastard's phone number?" he asked Spain, who for a moment seemed to be in shock at the sudden mood switch. Then the older man nodded.
"I think so," he said, fumbling in his pocket for his phone. After a moment of searching a smile curled across his face. "Right here." Then he handed the phone to Lovino, who quickly scanned the numbers. Then, without returning the phone he dialed the number, slapping the phone to his ear unceremoniously.
It rang once, twice, three and four times. Then, just after the fifth ring, someone picked up.
"Hello, this is England—"
"Yeah, it's Romano. Where the fuck are you?"
"—I can't answer the phone right now, but if you could leave your name, number and a short message I'll get back to you. If this is America—"
Lovino groaned, snapping the phone shut. Who the fuck had a voicemail that sounded like answering the phone? Dammit. He handed Spain his phone, crossing his arms. Then he turned, scanning the room. It was completely empty and clean, with no traces of any meeting ever having taken place. Which was complete shit.
"Ay, Lovi…"
Lovino looked over at Spain, who was poking a piece of paper taped to the inside of the door. He strode over, ripping it off and reading it. His eyes flicked back and forth, eyebrows furrowing as he did. Spain leaned over his shoulder, reading with him.
Romano and/or hotel staff,
My sincerest apologies, but as you have noticed we were forced to relocate. We are now in America's house upstate. I have included an address below. As it is most likely not Romano who has found this, however, please discard this letter. It is not of importance. We thank the hotel for its cooperation and tips are on the table.
Sincerely,
Arthur Kirkland
Below the letter was an address. Lovino's lips twitched. So the tea-bastard didn't even think he'd find Spain? What did the asshole take him for? Lovino ripped out the address and put it in his pocket. Then he proceeded in ripping the rest of the letter to shreds on the floor. Spain looked at him skeptically, before his eyes softened.
"So, road-trip time," he said, a faint smile finding its way onto his face. Lovino grumbled something about tea being stupid, but other than that he made no comment.
"Let's go," he said, scowling his usual. Before they left, however, he made sure to collect all the money on the meeting table. Take that, England.
As they started back down the hallway, hopefully for the last time, Spain's hand found his. At first he wanted to shake it away, hissing a low, "not here, bastard," but he made no move to do so. They held hands as they left the hotel, and Lovino would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy it. If you told anyone about that, though, he'd kill you. With fire.
"You know, this might be fun," Spain said cheerfully. Lovino sulked.
"It won't be. It's boring as hell and completely unnecessary."
"Hey," Spain's smile widened, and he leaned in to Lovino's ear. "We might even find those bastards who hurt you. That would be fun."
Lovino sighed. That was fucking creepy. As they walked down the street, though, he felt a twinge of a thought dart into his mind.
What happened to Kelly?
...
Heeeey :D So Spain's all nice again? What? Confusing stuff is gonna be happening. Not that it hasn't already. And I'm also sorry about the ending, if it seems a bit rushed. I was just kind of like 'Okay! Plot point! Hell yeah! ...now what?'
America having a house in upstate New York...well, that's where I live, so I figured it'd be easier to write accurately about places I know. Yeah...um...so...that's really the only reason.
OH, I almost forgot! The rating may or may not go up for the rest of the story. Well, it definitely will, but I'm just deciding when. So if you see it has changed by the time the next chapter rolls around, it means I'm starting to get into the real nitty-gritty. If it doesn't, remain patient. It will eventually.
If you find any typos or grammatical errors, please tell me.
AND REVIEW. PLEASE. Because I love you all X3 and I crave approval. *Puss in Boots eyes* Please?
