Whoa, I didn't expect so many people to respond to my question in the last chapter. I'm flattered that you guys took the time to read my author's notes :) Alright, so I tallied up the couples you readers wanted me to hint at, figuring that whichever shipping had the most votes would be the ones that I slipped into this story. I didn't expect there to be a tie X)

I was actually surprised to see the same amount of votes for USUK and FrUk since USUK tends to be more popular on this site. Personally, I like both and I'm constantly warring with myself between FrUk or USUK or Ameripan or Giripan. Seriously, I like all four a lot. It's a constant struggle X3

So I ended up just flipping a coin. You'll be seeing some subtle couples soon enough. Just so we're clear though, these couples aren't going to be a huge part of the story since my main focus is on Spamano. If you happen to not like the couples I hint at, then I apologize, but again, they aren't the main focus so just turn a blind eye.

Thank you to those who reviewed and for everyone who reads each new chapter! It means a lot to me :D If you have any questions, comments, or concerns, don't hesitate to contact me. I don't want anyone to feel voiceless~

Movie night went alright. In Romano's opinion, it definitely wasn't a disaster like the dinner date and things went smoothly. True to the cliché, he and Spain spent a good portion of the afternoon watching movies, complete with romantic comedies (which Romano swore belonged to his brother) and a few action movies sprinkled in. At some point, Spain suggested that they watch a horror movie that he found lying around (no doubt belonging to Feli, who was borrowing it from that weirdo, Japan), but Romano was immediately against it because there was no way in hell that he was going to let the tomato bastard try and cuddle him when he got scared…uh, startled. That was one cliché he absolutely refused to follow.

Regardless, Lovino had to admit that he actually somewhat sort of maybe enjoyed himself…a little bit (a lot). Spending time with Antonio, watching him laugh or swoon at each movie and gobble up popcorn, was nice…uh, he means that it wasn't boring and that it was a decent way to spend the day. He even managed to get Veneziano to leave them alone for a couple of hours (because there was no way he was going to let his idiot little brother make dumb comments about his love life…he got enough of it after the date as it was).

Unfortunately, Romano and Spain didn't get to do much those next few days since the tomato bastard had to get back home to care for his country. His stupid boss was getting antsy and couldn't keep his panties on as he constantly demanded the Spaniard's return. Antonio was disappointed that he had to go, but he promised that he'd keep in touch and that when they got to see each other again, they'd have that special, official second date. He sealed that promise with a light, chaste kiss on the forehead that somehow cursed Romano by making him unfocused and distracted all day.

Upholding that promise, Spain called or texted Romano as often as he could and the two would talk about the most ridiculous, pointless things that ranged from their respective politics to the most mundane parts of their days. Lovino looked forward to these moments…because they made his day go faster and staved off any boredom and urges to strangle his brother for annoying him (yeah, that's it…no other reason whatsoever…).

Eventually though, to his delight, uh irritation, another World Meeting brought them together again. This time, the conference was being held at freaky eyebrow Britain's place and Romano grumbled at the rainy weather while Feliciano amused himself by splashing in the puddles. He made sure to bring plenty of warm clothes as well as that chunk of silver, which he kept in his pocket at all times. The Italian felt butterflies fluttering at the thought of seeing Spain in person and couldn't help wondering if his hotel room was nearby. He found out later when room service brought up a gift basket filled with all sorts of candies and tomatoes and a note attached to it that read 'From the floor above you…enjoy the tomates, mi tomate~'

It didn't take too long to figure out who was the sender. Romano rolled his eyes and allowed Feli to gorge on some of the candies while he ate some tomatoes.

Later the next day, the meeting commenced and it started off with Romano nearly screaming when someone hugged him from behind and he spent a good while snapping at Spain for creeping up on him. As expected, Antonio didn't seem to mind and merely smiled blissfully and hugged him from the front mid-rant, babbling something about being thrilled to see him and asking if he had gotten the gift basket.

It took a long time for Romano to be able to shove the Spaniard off…and no, it wasn't because he didn't necessarily want the former conquistador to let go.

But to keep up appearances and to ensure that none of the nations thought that he was going soft, the Italian managed to shove off Spain and cuss him out extra loudly for good measure. Again, Spain didn't mind and merely hugged Romano, dragging him to a pair of seats while chattering about how he missed his tomate.

However, just as the two sat down, they were approached by Britain. "Hello there Romano, Spain. Sorry to burst your bubble, but you two can't sit next to each other today."

While Spain looked shocked, Romano immediately got pissed. "What?! Why the hell not, bastard?! We have a right to sit wherever we want! Who are you to say where we can and cannot sit?!" Not that he wanted to sit with the tomato bastard, of course! It's just that…the audacity of Eyebrows to try and tell them what to do was annoying! It's the principle, dammit!

England furrowed his very bushy brows and coolly replied, "There's no need to be rude, let me explain myself. You see, we all know quite well how rowdy these meetings tend to be so I've decided to make a seating chart. I've seated everyone in ways that will make the least amount of trouble, like I've sat the frog as far from me as possible." He snorted and threw a quick glare over at France who happened to catch his gaze and winked at him. Britain turned red and threw him a very ungentlemanly gesture. France blew him a kiss in return.

Antonio tilted his head to the side, still confused. "Wait, so you mean we can't sit where we want?"

The Brit turned back to the Spaniard, rolled his eyes, and handed him a piece of paper. "That's exactly what I mean, idiot. Here's a diagram if you're too daft to grasp this simple concept." Romano looked over Spain's shoulder and realized that the tea bastard wasn't bullshitting them. It was obvious he went through great lengths to make sure this meeting went as smoothly as possible, keeping friends away from each other, enemies even farther away from each other, and sitting nations who barely knew each other next to each other. For instance, Italy and Germany were separated (Romano took some satisfaction in that, yet was not looking forward to Veneziano crying about it), Japan and Hungary weren't seated with each other, neither was Prussia and Austria, the Bad Touch Trio was separated, America and France were practically isolated from all the others, and so on and so forth.

Romano located his name and frowned with distaste. He was sat between Netherlands and Norway. Sure, he tolerated Netherlands, but that doesn't mean that the Dutchman wasn't boring or that the two were friends. And Norway…Norway was a weirdo. Though the two never looked each other's way, much less talked, Romano just knew that this guy was nutty. All in all, he was sandwiched between two boring weirdoes. Joy.

The feisty Italian then glanced over the paper, spotted Spain's name, and winced. The tomato bastard's seating arrangement was even worse; he was going to be seated between Russia and China. Maybe the rice bastard wasn't so bad (Romano was more concerned about that wok he carried around), but the vodka bastard was terrifying to the max. Even Romano's Italian badassery quivered under the freaky might of the Russian's eerie purple aura (yeah, it's that powerful).

Lovino looked at Britain and scowled. "This is complete and utter bullshit."

England narrowed his eyes and retorted, "This is what will prevent disasters among all the imbeciles here. Even you have to admit to seeing the logic in this."

Dammit, the bastard had him there. Rationally, it was a good idea to reduce the damage that the other nations usually make by separating the troublemakers. Still, Romano wasn't happy about it and was willing to voice as much. "It's still stupid. Besides, you forgot Canada again, idiota." Britain's eyes were clouded with confusion before lighting up in realization as he double-checked, recognizing that he actually did forget the shy blonde. "And my stupid brother isn't far enough from the potato bastard." Two seats away isn't nearly enough. "I stand by it, this is stupid."

"Lovi's right," Spain declared with an unnatural amount of seriousness and conviction. "This is completely unfair!" Wow, I can't believe this jerk actually agrees with me. "These seating arrangements are all wrong! You can't sit Lovi next to Netherlands! That's just not right!"

Both Romano and Britain looked to the Spaniard with disbelief and the former resisted the urge to face-palm. Of course.

Several minutes of arguing occurred between Arthur and Antonio, yet the Brit didn't change his mind. Lovino merely watched the exchange, throwing in his two cents every now and then. Eventually though, Britain was stubborn and wouldn't budge so Romano and Spain had to begrudgingly sit in their assigned seats. It was a slight consolation for Lovino to see most of the other nations unhappy about the arrangement as well once England announced it.

The meeting started off a bit late due to complaining from the other countries about their seating, but ultimately everyone (more or less) settled down and disgruntledly sat down where Britain assigned them. Soon the meeting was underway and was actually somewhat less chaotic. Romano could care less though and merely listened to the current speaker, Austria, with boredom. The aristocratic prick was expressing his feelings or some crap about global warming (the bastard had actually brought a grand piano with him…), and the Italian had half a mind to throw a chair at him and his piano.

I don't even know what the hell this bastard is talking about…

Lovino jumped and bit back a gasp when he felt something buzz in his pocket. Glancing on either side to see if Norway or Netherlands noticed that, which they hadn't (Norway was busy looking bored while Netherlands was taking a sip of water), Romano discreetly pulled out his cell phone and checked it. He had gotten a text message. Furrowing his brow, the Southern portion of Italy quickly read it.

{Hola Lovi~}

Of course, why am I even surprised? Romano scowled over at Spain, who was sitting across from him and smiling. His emerald eyes were glimmering with expectation so the Italian sighed and texted him back.

[What do you want, jerk?!]

Beaming with delight, Spain's fingers rapidly typed across the cell's keyboard.

{nothing. i just wanted to say hi}

He paused for a moment before adding something else.

{hi!}

Rolling his eyes, Romano texted his response.

[You're an idiot, you know that]

{would u b angry if i said that im ur idiot? ;D}

[What do you think, bastard?!]

Lovino completely denied that he was blushing…his cheeks were just flushed because it was warm in the room. And no, that was not a smile twitching at his lips. He did not in any way find Antonio funny and amusing. Obnoxious maybe, but definitely not bemusing.

"You know you shouldn't be texting during the meeting." Romano glanced up at Netherlands who was gazing at him, his expression unreadable.

"Yeah well, I don't really care what anyone around here has to say anyways," the Italian muttered. "Besides, it's not like anyone will notice."

"I noticed," Netherlands dryly quipped.

Romano snorted good-naturedly. "Sure you did, but it's not like you'll do anything. What are you going to do? Rat me out?" His phone buzzed with Spain's response, but he momentarily ignored it.

"Maybe, maybe not. You ought to at least hide it better though so that no one else can catch you."

"Like I said jerk, no one will notice. Everyone's either eye-fucking one another, plotting how to kill one another, or dying of boredom. Who's going to notice that I'm texting and who will care if they did?"

"I guess you've made your point." Netherlands briefly paused, throwing a glance towards Denmark who happened to be (animatedly) talking next (somehow Austria's piano had been moved out of the room). "Do you seriously think there's that much sexual tension around here?"

"Duh."

"Hmmm, interesting." Before the Dutchman could say more, a blur of yellow flashed by and knocked into the man's glass of water, causing it to spill all over him. Romano and Netherlands flinched, the latter's bright green eyes widening ever so slightly, as he automatically jumped up from his seat. Everyone immediately turned to stare at him at his sudden movement, yet Lars ignored them in favor of his wet pants. "What on earth…?"

"What's with you, Nethie?" asked Denmark, looking amused as he wore his usual cheerful smirk. "Is my speech really that good that you can't contain yourself?"

"Ja," Prussia drawled with a rather devious, knowing smirk on his face. "You look like you just pissed your pants or something! Kesesesese~"

Romano glared at him and winced when he realized that there was a noticeable wet stain on the crotch and thigh area of Netherlands' pants. What in the hell…? The Italian then glanced at the tipped over, now-empty glass of water, and his orbs widened. There was tiny yellow bird standing next to it, and the little creature was currently shaking its fluffy head, seeming disoriented.

That little jerk knocked the water over!

Something about the bird looked familiar…

Then it hit him—this is the albino bastard's bird. Romano switched his confused expression for an infuriated one and glared over at the Prussian. The arrogant douche caught his eye and gave him a thumb's up as he bobbed his head and mouthed 'you're welcome.' The Italian flipped him off. Prussia didn't seem deterred as he silently chuckled.

Oh so he thinks this is funny?! Let's see if he thinks it's funny when I pelt him with the tea bastard's shitty scones!

Oblivious to the other's dangerous thoughts, the Prussian douche nonchalantly whistled, getting his bird to look up and fly back over to his stupid jerk of master. Once the bird settled in the ex-nation's hair (I hope that bird shits all over your head, jerk), Prussia gave Romano another thumb's up and flashed him an arrogant grin. Romano flipped him off with both hands this time.

Why the hell would the albino bastard send his stupid little bird to knock over Netherlands' water? Wait, why the hell am I even questioning it? It's the albino bastard I'm talking about.

No one seemed to notice the exchange since all eyes were on Netherlands. To the pot bastard's credit, he was poised and composed and was wearing his typical blank countenance; he didn't seem the least bit embarrassed or upset and merely assessed his pants. "Oh god, I just bought these pants. Maybe if I hurry I can get them to dry out on their own without wasting money on some dry cleaners." He then raised his voice to address the other nations. "You'll all have to excuse me." And with that, he calmly exited the room, Belgium hurriedly following after him with a concerned look on her face.

The countries muttered amongst themselves before Denmark suddenly slammed his hand upon the table and excitedly exclaimed, "Oh my gosh that was so cool! My speech is so amazing that I made Nethie piss himself! That's some exciting shit there, you guys! I bet none of you can top that!" He flashed a smile over to Norway. "Aren't you proud of me, Norge?!"

The Norwegian man blinked and deadpanned, "Not even remotely."

While the Dane made a noise of protest, America stood up and boisterously said, "Dude, my speech is so much awesomer than yours! When it's my turn to go up, I'll make everyone here piss their pants!" Majority of the nations groaned in disgust.

England angrily snapped, "What the hell is the matter with you, git?! Have you no sense of decency?!"

"I agree with Eyebrows!" exclaimed Prussia as he jumped up from his seat. "You can't say that your speech is awesomer than anyone else's because my speech is the awesomest there is since it's being presented by the one and only Awesome Me! It's so awesome that the world will simultaneously piss themselves!"

"East! Enough with your disgusting vulgarities! You're not even making the speech!"

"Hey, like, my speech is, like, totally gonna be fab too, but not because people are, like, going to piss themselves or whatever, but because I'm going to be talking about increasing sales on cute boots!"

"My speech is going to be on pasta, ve~!"

"My speech is going to be about you all becoming one with Mother Russia~"

"No one can become one with you but me, Big Brother!"

"Speeches are totally boring, but I'll make one on how my nation should be recognized as a legit country…and how I don't belong to jerk Britain anymore!"

"Go home, Sealand!"

"Ohonhon~ my speech involves the spreading of amour, which involves all of us getting naked~"

"Speeches and nudity were invented in Korea, da-ze~!"

Unsurprisingly, the conference soon became a mess of cacophony and voices shouting out their opinions from all angles. Romano regarded it all with a roll of his eyes. Bastards…all of them. He then glanced over at Spain who was looking around the room curiously, as if he were trying to figure out how this all happened. The southern portion of Italy snorted. It's not that hard to figure it out, idiota. Your stupid friend's stupid bird started all of this.

As if hearing him, Spain glanced over at him and immediately beamed with joy. Romano lightly jolted as a flurry of butterflies erupted within his stomach and his heart thudded loudly against his chest. However, he redeemed himself with a glare that practically snarled 'what are you looking at, bastard?!'

A pair of glittering olive orbs glimmered as the Spaniard pulled out his cell phone and pointed over to the Italian before he began typing something. Soon enough, Romano felt the tell-tale vibration of his phone going off, chiming that there was a message for him. Rolling his eyes and deciding to humor the tomato jerk, Romano unlocked his cell phone and was surprised to see that there was an additional message alongside the new one. Then he remembered that he had yet to answer it since Netherlands had distracted him just moments ago. He viewed it.

{i think that ur as cute as a tomate~}

Romano felt his cheeks flush, denying that the silly, stupid text had somewhat flattered him, before he hurriedly moved on to the more recent message.

{hola again lovi~}

[What do you want now, jerk?!]

{nothing, i just want 2 talk. crazy thing that happened to netherlands, huh?}

Romano glared over at Spain before furiously typing.

[That was all your stupid friend's fault! He sent that dumb bird of his to purposely spill water on Netherlands' pants! Seriously, why are you friends with that asshole?!]

Lovino was stunned to see an expression of alarm flicker through Antonio's eyes and a row of white teeth nervously nibble on his bottom lip. That was all the Italian needed for some things to click. Wearing an outraged countenance, Romano furiously typed out a response before Spain could.

[You know something about that, don't you, jerk?! Spill it!]

Alarm seemed to have fully hit Spain as his eyes widened at his phone.

{i dont know anything, lovi}

Romano had to refrain from typing back a rather snarky retort despite that Spain was setting himself up for an insult with that sentence.

[God, even through text I can tell that you're lying! What are you hiding, tomato bastard?!]

{nothing roma, i swear}

[Bullshit]

{i swear!}

[Stop trying to bullshit me!]

{…ive got a surprise 4 u~}

Wait, what? Romano narrowed his eyes at the text before dragging them over to the source. Spain glanced at him apologetically while he sheepishly shrugged his shoulders. The Italian let out a small, frustrated growl.

[You're trying to distract me.]

{no im not, im just telling u theres a surprise}

Damn his curiosity.

[What's the surprise, bastard?]

{it wouldnt b a surprise if i told u ;)}

That bastard…

[You bastard]

{;D}

[You tomato-sucking bastard]

{later after the meeting is over, ill take u 2 the surprise~}

[Fine, whatever. Just tell me how I should dress.]

{casual is perfecto~}

[Okay, so give me about an hour to shower and change and then pick me up at my room. Is that too much for you to remember, bastard?]

{nope, nope, i got it! Oooh lovi icant wayt! :D :D :D}

[I'm sure you can't, jerk…and learn how to spell, dammit!]

The rest of the meeting was essentially spent this way, with Romano and Spain texting one another, while the rest of the nations continued to squabble and shout about nonsense. Eventually, the meeting was adjourned by its highly irate host.

"I made a seating chart for a reason you immature, ungrateful wankers!"

An hour later and Romano was in his and Italy's shared hotel room, fixing his hair. He glared at that wayward jerk curl of his and willed for it to flatten (because like hell he was going to touch it…). As expected, it didn't listen and the Italian muttered, "Well fuck you too."

"Ve~ what did I do now?!" Romano turned at the panicked hysterical voice that belonged to his brother. Italy immediately flinched when the older one's hazel orbs locked onto him. "Waaaagh! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you mad, fratello! I swear! Whatever I did, I won't do it again!"

Lovino rolled his eyes and softened his scowl. "I'm not pissed at you, stupid, I was talking to my hair." Well now that just sounds silly saying that aloud.

Feliciano momentarily looked confused before he brightened. "Oh okay~! Well, don't be too mad at your hair! I think it looks really pretty~" Out of all the words he could've used, he couldn't have used anything more masculine?! "But I don't really think Spain cares how your hair looks. I think he'll like it no matter what it looks like~!"

"Who says that I care about what that bastard thinks of me or my hair?! I don't give a shit what he thinks?!" Damn it face, now is not the time to be blushing! You have no reason to blush! Cut it out!

"Ve~ it's okay if you do you know! It just means that you care about his opinion! I think it'd be really, really nice if you did because I think Big Brother Toni cares for your opinion too. It's nice that you two care about each other so much~"

"Who said anything about me caring about that bastard?!" Damn it face, WHAT DID I JUST SAY?!

"Awww c'mon fratello there's no need to be embarrassed! Lots of people care for each other! Japan and Greece care for each other, France and Britain care for each other even if it doesn't seem like it sometimes, Finland and Sweden care for each other…and Sealand too, and me and Germany care for each other a lot-"

"ARE YOU SUGGESTING WHAT I THINK YOU'RE SUGGESTING IS GOING ON BETWEEN YOU AND THAT POTATO BREATH, BASTARD?!"

"Waaaagh, ack, p-please big brother, s-stop ch-choking me, ack!"

Romano managed to get away with strangling Italy for only a little while until he was interrupted by a knock on the door. Grumbling to himself, he released his brother who gasped for air, his skin changing back to its original tone, and made his way to the door. "If that's the potato sucker then I swear I'm going to bitch slap you both with Poland's stilettos!" The response he got was a small cry and the distinct flapping of the other's white 'surrender' flag, getting him to roll his eyes.

He barely had time to open the door before a pair of strong, tanned arms wrapped around his middle, lifted him up, and twirled him in a circle. "Lovi~! I'm so glad to see you! ¡Hola~!" Romano, who had let out a shriek and had clung to the tomato bastard when his feet left the ground (and no, it wasn't because he wanted to hold onto Spain…he just didn't want to be sent flying to the other end of the room, he had to hang on otherwise that would totally happen…), was partially relieved when he was put down and absentmindedly felt the Spaniard press his forehead onto his.

For a moment, Romano completely forgot about his anger towards Italy and could only feel a pair of arms securing themselves around his waist, a heart beating against his face, a sense of security and bliss enveloping him, his own heart beating rapidly with excitement…

Once he came to his senses, he realized what kind of a position they were in. The two were standing in the doorway with Spain keeping his arms wrapped around his waist while he had his own arms wrapped around the older brunette's neck, both of them pressed up against one another. Their stance was very intimate and it made him feel warm.

"G-Get off me, jerk!" Romano immediately let go of Spain and shoved him off, somewhat half-heartedly (what, give him a break?! He was still caught off guard, dammit!).

Spain lightly chuckled. "Heh, heh, sorry, Lovi, but I'm just really happy to see you~" He glanced over the Italian's shoulder and cordially greeted Feliciano. "Hola Ita-chan~"

"C-Ciao Big Brother Spain~" Italy's voice sounded a bit scratchy, but the jerk seemed fine so Romano didn't feel guilty.

Antonio smiled before turning his attention back onto Lovino. "So are you ready for your surprise, Lovi~?"

Oh right, a surprise was involved. "Ready as I'll ever be, jerk. Where are we going?"

"You'll see~" Spain took ahold of his hand (and no, Romano did not let him) and started leading them out the door. "Adiós Italia~"

"Bye-bye! Have fun, Romano! Oh, and remember to use protection if you and Toni decide to have some sexy times~!" Spain, in all his ditzy dumb ass glory, seemed to disregard that as he cooed at Romano's bright, increasingly reddening face.

He is so strangling that bastard little brother of his when he got back…

Ah, brotherly love~ X3

I'm sorry if this ending seems abrupt, but the chapter was getting too long so I cut it in half. I'm not sure how you guys are with long chapters, but this one was getting lengthy (even for me and my longest one-shot is over 11,000 words). We'll see Spain's surprise for Romano in the next chapter. Stay tuned until then~ :D

Translations:

Spanish

mi tomate-my tomato

Hola-Hello

perfecto-perfect

Adiós Italia-Good bye Italy

Italian

idiota-idiot

fratello-brother

Ciao-Hello

German/Prussian

Ja-yes/yeah

French

amour-love