Kitty: All righty, chapter two on the way. Thank y'all for the sweet reviews and, to all your shy and/or lazy people, thank you for the fav's and alerts. =w=b

A quick note for the last chapter: Yes, the compass is not completely necessary for navigation. The sun and, during the night, the stars can be, and were used for navigation before there was a compass. And yes, as a ship's captain, Antonio is more than competent in those skills. HOWEVER, how the hell would you feel if you most reliable navigational tool suddenly ceased to work? Not exactly giddy, I would think. If suddenly your compass, which uses the magnetic field of the EARTH suddenly CAN'T FIND NORTH, then what else could possibly go wrong? Just making sure that was clear before someone tries to be witty. (Which that would be me if I were reviewing this… *sweats*)

FYI, it will be four chapters.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. But I AM Antonio. Just so you know. XD

The Greatest Treasure, You Idiot

Chapter Two

Contract

Lovino's directions led the Buscador further east into the Mediterranean. It wasn't often that Antonio led his ship further than the far side of Italy. They had traveled to Greece before, early in his command, but not in the past couple years. He much preferred attacking British ships and taking back even a small amount of what those damn Brits had stolen from Spain; most of his crew was Spanish as well, so it was a goal unanimously encouraged. However, Lovino had pointed to an isolated stretch of ocean in the Aegean Sea, the closest land mass being, in fact, Greece. Naxos, Greece, to be exact. Because of their destination further east, they would not be returning to Tortuga, the small pirate-infested island off the coast of Spain, which caused both Gilbert and Francis to be a little put out (for rather similar reasons…). Instead, Antonio re-plotted their course to Siracusa, Sicily to refresh their stores, which would only add a few days to the journey. After the hour it took to discuss the route and the necessary checkpoint, Lovino left the poop cabin and didn't return. Not that it helped much.

That first day was excruciating for Antonio.

He tried to keep his distance, but there was only so much distance on a ship. Lovino was everywhere; checking every nook and cranny; frowning at ropes and pulleys and cannons; leaning over the railing and into the wind at the prow; whining at Francis for food and then throwing plates at the Frenchman for copping a feel.

Fortunately, Lovino had long ago seen the practicality of dressing in more sailor-like attire and set aside his strange, filmy robe. It had been something of a chore to accomplish when he had refused to magic his own clothing and then refused to explain why. Most the sailors were rather short and burly, not to mention Lovino had grimaced seeing the state of the clothing they had on. Francis and Antonio had both been too tall. Lovino and Gilbert had screamed and cursed at each other down in the hold, but Gil had finally handed over a few of his lesser worn clothes and one of his best outfits. The black linen trousers with Prussian blue stripes down the sides were a little baggy, Lovino's feet were still bare, and the loose white blouse kept slipping over his shoulders, but it was much better than the red thing.

Or being naked.

It really didn't matter what Lovino was wearing, though. The entire day Antonio couldn't take his eyes off him. Even when Lovino had moved out of his sight range, Antonio was still so aware of him it was ridiculous. Surrounded by his men and the sound of constant movement,but he could hear Lovino's sharp, accented voice, often rising in anger, from across the ship, from anywhere on the ship; he could even catch the light, nearly-silent tread of his footsteps when he passed. In the midst of a conversation, or while concentrating on navigational details, he would barely glimpse a flash of that snowy white blouse and be held motionless, enthralled by the graceful, almost dancing way he moved, the way he stood perfectly still just in Antonio's peripheral vision, the fleeting glances that met, gold to green, and the burning low in Antonio's belly.

Finally, night fell. He could retreat to his private quarters behind the poop cabin and it wouldn't be noticed. He would be alone with his thoughts until his dawn watch and hopefully, hopefully, he would wake up without Lovino in his mind. He sighed in relief as he kicked the door shut behind him, tossed his long coat and waistcoat onto the bolted down chair, and dropped down onto another to start the process of pulling off his knee-high, black, leather boots. Gil had stolen his hat again…

Antonio slid down in the chair; legs sprawled with the high white stockings still on, one hand covering his face. He hadn't bothered to light any candle or lamp, simply enjoying the dark quiet. He really had to pull himself together. He was going to spend months with that strange golden boy, stuck on this very limited amount of space called a ship. He had to remember he was a captain. That he had responsibilities. That he had a goal-

"Haven't you heard of fucking candles?" a voice rudely demanded.

Antonio jumped, cursing a bluestreak in Spanish as Lovino smirked from the doorway. The door was closed behind him, the latch still down.

"How did you get in?" Antonio managed to croak.

"That is a very stupid question," Lovino retorted, still smirking. Antonio swallowed, hard, as Lovino casually shrugged out of his shirt and tossed it to the floor. "Human clothes are so damn constricting. Though, I must admit, certain people manage to look rather dashing." Antonio's eyes were glued to Lovino's slender fingers as they oh-so-slowly loosed the strings on his breeches. "I could create my own, with a better fit and more suitable colors," he frowned at the overall lack of color of his borrowed clothes, "but why expend my energy. These clothes are so damn complicated. I might forget a thread and-" the breeches fell to the floorboards with a soft thump. Antonio's heart was hammering painfully, his green eyes slowly climbing up to Lovino's face, taking in every bare inch that never ceased being beautiful, no matter the amount of viewing. "There we go," Lovino murmured, meeting Antonio's gaze with burning eyes.

"W-What do you want?" Antonio asked hoarsely, unable to tear his gaze away. Lovino stretched luxuriously, reveling in his nudity, arms high over his head. Antonio tightened his fingers into fists, mentally ordering himself not to move.

"Oh, no, capitano," Lovino scolded, that sharp, ambiguous smirk on his face.

He stepped over the puddle of linen and walked over to Antonio's chair. He knelt between his knees and placed his olive-and-gold hands on the dark cotton. His hands looked so bright against the black fabric, so bright and slim as they trailed up Antonio's thighs. Even brighter eyes bored into Antonio's wide, slightly panicked, slowly heating gaze. The Spaniard duly noted in the back of his mind that Lovino's gills seemed to have disappeared, not even a crease left behind- of course that made sense, right-

"Don't you remember, you idiot? It's about what you want," Lovino continued on, a finger tracing lazy S's up, up.

"I already asked-" he broke off as Lovino rolled his eyes and scoffed.

"There can be more than one contract, Spaniard. The one they all hear," he jerked his head towards the cabin door, "and one between us. You're really fucking lucky, you know. I don't normally offer. In fact, you're the only one of every godsforsaken pirate I've met that I've offered. I have a feeling, however, you would ask properly."

"The price?" Antonio whispered, reaching out to touch Lovino's bright cheek lightly. Those bright eyes flashed, a strange emotion both shining and fleeting.

"The hunger will never leave you once you've tasted. For the rest of your pathetic mortal life, there'll be no other you'll want, no other to satisfy," Lovino answered, his voice just as soft.

Both of Antonio's hands were now cupping Lovino's face, leaning forward even as he drew him closer. "I think I'm already paying it," he replied, grinning that wide, cheerful grin. Lovino scowled, even as his mouth twitched.

"Fucking idiot. You still haven't asked." His voice was warm and sweet on Antonio's lips.

"Ay Dios mio, I wish for you to be my lover, Lovino," Antonio stated formally, feeling rather breathless and ignoring the shiver of foreboding down his spine. "Whatever the price."

"The contract is done."

"Santa María, muchas gracias," Antonio breathed.

Their lips crashed together, all hesitancy gone. Antonio tried to calm himself, try to slow himself down, enjoy slow, warm caresses and kisses like he normally did, but he couldn't. Not even his first time had felt like this, like his blood was boiling under his skin, like his heart was beating so hard it would break free from his chest, like every smooth inch of skin under his questing fingers wasn't enough. He had no idea how he managed to get his clothes off or get Lovino to the bunk, but both happened quickly. Not quick enough.

It was a blurry, electrifying, haze in his memory. So many details were burned into his mind, and yet he had no idea how much time passed, how many kisses over lips and skin, or how many times his mind grew blank with ecstasy. Lovino cries only urged him on, building up the passion, letting it burn and burn between them until all his flesh felt afire. It never was enough. It could never be enough. They finally succumbed to sleep so late it was early, the rocking of the boat lulling them into peaceful slumber. Below Antonio's ear, he could feel Lovino's heartbeat, slow, steady, alive. Slim fingers, just moments ago it seemed they were clawing at his back or digging into his hips, were combing through his hair gently.

He was probably grinning like an idiot in his sleep. But he didn't really care.

.

It was more than obvious what was happening. That very next morning (a few hours after the first time, to clarify) Antonio took over dawn watch looking exhausted and ridiculously satisfied with himself. He wasn't quite "promiscuous," but he was very popular with the ladies. His men had seen him many times after a night spent with a woman, normally wealthy widows and the like.

As to male lovers, unlike many ship captains, Antonio didn't employ cabin boys in that sense. When he had been a cabin boy himself, to the very pirate that handed over his ship to Antonio, he also had not had that sort of relationship. Antonio had never really seen men in that light, to tell the truth. He liked pretty women and he liked to give them presents, but most of the time the pretty women approached him. Not that he didn't like it. He just never had to go out of his way for it. Never had to think about it.

And however his men may have felt about male-male relationships (Francis didn't discriminate genders in his sexual affairs, so it wasn't completely unknown), it was an unspoken decision that Antonio's affair with Lovino was different. One, Lovino was a siren. He wasn't just a man, he was a creature of unearthly beauty and magic and therefore outside societal norms. Two, they were in a magically-binding contract and weird things happen around magic. But above all, the crew had an unshakeable respect and love for their captain. It took them less than a day to see how ridiculously happy Antonio was and decide it was a subject better left undiscussed.

The affair would only end in heartache anyway. The siren would lead them to the treasure, then return to the paradise island in the middle of nowhere, and Antonio would move on. Who cared about some mid-sea dalliance that didn't hurt anyone? Their capitan was a grown man who had proven himself capable of making not only his own decisions, but the decisions of the fifteen men on board; decisions that could mean life or death.

.

They made it to Siracusa within a few weeks. Five men were left behind to watch the ship; the rest disembarked. His men not remaining aboard the Buscador were given immediate leave and scattered, heading for the cheap taverns and bars along the wharf. Antonio, Gil, Francis, and, of course, Lovino, searched and found a well-to-do inn a few minutes from the docks. It took a few minutes to succor three rooms and board for two days and two nights. Then, Antonio sent Gilbert to stock up ammunitions, guns, and other useful items like tar, ropes, and cleaning supplies. Francis was sent to order fresh food and drink. Instead of staying at the comfortable inn and maybe taking a proper bath, Antonio dragged Lovino out into the bustling Italian port city.

"Where the hell are we going?" Lovino demanded crossly. He was uncomfortable strolling through the crowded streets, stiff and tense as he scowled.

"Are you Italian, Lovi? You and Feli sound like it," Antonio replied, grinning easily. Lovino glared up at him.

"Don't call me Lovi. And don't ignore me," he snapped. At Antonio's blithe smile, he sighed. "We didn't always live on that rock in the middle of nowhere. We travelled a lot… a long time ago…" Golden eyes scanned the crowd, face weary and old for a fleeting moment. "We loved Italy best. We look rather Italian, so it was easy to blend in. People liked to hear us sing and watch us dance. Besides, nothing is better than pasta."

"Pasta?" Antonio repeated incredulously. Even after more than a fortnight of being lovers, he'd never seen Lovino reveal so much of himself.

"Yes, pasta. It is the most delicious food in the world," Lovino told him firmly. Antonio burst into laughter. "It isn't funny, you bastard! I'm serious!"

"Si, si! It's just… it's so Italian," Antonio tried to explain, cracking up again. Lovino punched his shoulder, scowling fiercely, until, slowly, his face relaxed and he chuckled softly.

"Si, it is rather Italian of me," Lovino conceded. He looked up to see Antonio staring at him, jewel-green eyes soft and bright. "What?"

"You laughed," Antonio said, his smile widening as Lovino frowned and blushed. "You sound beautiful. I like it better than your singing." Gold eyes widened.

"That-That is the most ridiculous-" Lovino sputtered. He broke off as Antonio touched his arm.

"We're here," he informed him, jerking his chin towards the building behind Lovino. The siren turned, still red-faced and scowling. He blinked.

Lovino looked up to Antonio's idiotically happy face and back to the shop, gaping. In front of them was a small, expensive-looking tailor's. Beautifully hand-sewn garments hung on mannequins in the window. The sign over the door was carved with curlicues and painted with gold and bright purple. The windows were made of real, perfectly clear glass.

"You need clothes that fit you better. And my first mate needs all the clean clothes he owns for himself," Antonio explained, placing his large hands on Lovino's narrow shoulders and nudging him forward. "Let's go, Lovi."

"I don't… I don't need-"

"Why waste your energy, mi corazon, when you can waste my money? I don't like keeping so many coins in my pocket. I'd like to spend them on you," Antonio told him simply, still smiling. "Did you know, you look just like a tomato right now? It's very cute."

"SHUT THE HELL UP!" Lovino shouted. He pushed through the door and stormed to the counter, his face bright red and his cheeks billowed slightly as he pouted in embarrassment.

Antonio spent the rest of the afternoon watching Lovino try on a few ready-made outfits and then be measured for specially-made ones. He gave advice about fabrics and colors, but Lovino really didn't need his help. He had more than a good eye of his own. Antonio basically just agreed or complimented Lovino's taste. He paid the tailor almost double the standard rate to get the clothes done within the next twenty-four hours and then led Lovino to the cobblers for a pair of boots. They left with an order for three different kinds (Antonio didn't understand how that happened…), once again spending twice the amount to get the orders filled in time. Then, they ate together at an expensive café, reported to have the best seafood pasta around. On the way back to the inn, Antonio somehow managed to burn even more of his gold. Lovino would see something, his eyes would light up in interest or surprise, and Antonio would be handing over the gold without even haggling before Lovino could open his mouth.

Antonio was absolutely besotted. There was no other word for it. He loved to watch Lovino's eyes grow wide, his lips curve into that shy, rarely-spied smile. He loved just giving to Lovino, even when he scowled and said he didn't need it as his lips twitched upwards. He just wanted this beautiful, magical creature, this young man with lonely eyes, to be happy.

The last thing he bought, as they strolled indolently towards the inn, packages filling Antonio's arms, was such a simple thing. A little glassblower's shop had a large window filled with knickknacks on display. Birds, deer, horses, even fish and faeries, cavorted over the display, their glass limbs looking almost real, as if they really were just about to rise. Near this teeming mass of frozen fauna, sat a wooden pedestal covered in green felt. A top the pedestal was a large glass bubble filled with smaller bubbles. The glassblower had used dye in the glass before blowing and, as the late afternoon sun filtered through the window and struck the bubbles, a dozen different translucent shades danced inside.

"That's pretty," Lovino said, his gaze following Antonio's. "I wonder how glassblowers do it. It looks like it's made from magic, doesn't it?"

"Yeah. Hey, I'll be right back."

"Wait! You fucking idiot, it's made of glass! I won't take that stupid, silly thing on that ship! Are you- are you even listening to me?" Lovino yelled after him as he ran into the shop. He rolled his eyes, trying not to smile. "He's stupid. Really. What am I going to do with a colorful glass bubble?"

"He's stupid for leaving you alone, as well," another voice stated lazily from behind Lovino. He spun around, eyes wide at the accent of the voice, at the language of the voice.

A short, slender man with bright blond hair and eyes just as green as Antonio's stood leaning against the opposing store's wall. He smirked, bushy, black eyebrows rising. His clothes were made of rich fabrics, white satin breeches with gold thread lines down the sides of his legs, snowy white silk blouse, black and gold brocade waistcoat, bright blue and red velvet coat with gold buttons down the front and tails to back of his knees, and black boots so polished they gleamed. A cutlass hung from one hip and a long dagger from the other. He uncrossed his legs and stepped forward.

"You better come with me, siren, or your current Spanish toy will be dead."

"I don't know who the hell you think you are-"

"I'm sorry, how rude of me." He bowed, still smirking. "Arthur Kirkland, dread pirate captain of the Last Revenge. I've come all the way from England for you, siren. I won't leave without you. Now come with me, or I'll have my men blow your pretty Spaniard's brains out. They're, right now, behind the shop and will forcibly enter the premises and kill him at my command," Captain Kirkland told him, that smug smile never leaving his face. Lovino snarled.

"Fine. I'll go with you."

"Not that you had a choice," Arthur replied, shrugging. He jerked his head one direction and Lovino began to walk, limbs stiff and movement jerky. He barely saw Arthur make a motion with his hand and three men, obviously sailors and British as well, came around the building and followed them.

.

Antonio came out of the store, yet one more small box in the huge pile he held. He glanced around and frowned.

"Lovino?"

.

Kitty: . I have like, five pages open online (NONE OF THEM WIKI, THANK YOU), with deck plans and boat plans and nautical terms and pirate clothing and different fabrics- OMGAWSH, IF I EVER WANTED TO BE A PIRATE THIS WOULD BE USEFUL! BUT I PREFER NINJA, NOT PIRATE!

I totally didn't know there was a poop cabin… until I studied two different diagrams of a ship and then read up all those damn nautical terms. Apparently it's quite a useful cabin and once found, I ended up using it. And though I now know it comes from the Latin word puppis, I still find it awkward. It sounds better in Latin…

Sorry this was short. I wanted to go ahead and post it because I'll be busy all day tomorrow (technically today, since I have to wake up in, oh, three and a half hours?)