Summary: After a bet he made with Feliciano, Lovino heads to Spain to reveal his feelings for a certain Spaniard.

Warnings: Lovi's mouth, boy on boy kissing, over-used italics, and incorrectly used tildes

A/N: Hello everyone~ You may have known me as PanicattheDiscoLover, but, obviously, I changed my penname. I'm very excited to present to you my first finished fic and my first published Spamano. I hope you enjoy this because I certainly had fun writing. I'd like to thank my Spain, America, and Poland for being so supportive when I got stuck, for being my almost-beta's, and for being awesome. I love you guys and hope you enjoy the changes I made. Reviews make me happy, so please send me any feedback.

Disclaimer: I obviously don't own Hetalia.

Lovino glared ahead at the path laid out before him. It could be argued that this area had never done anything to deserve the man's scowl, but the Italian begged to differ; it belonged to the Spaniard he lo-hated and, therefore, royally pissed him off just by existing. Unfortunately for Lovino, this patch of stone was the least of his problems. It wasn't like he stared down front lawns for funsies. No, he had a goal, damn it, and he was determined to accomplish it.

This whole situation began not two hours before when the southern region of Italy had been cursing out his younger brother who accomplished nothing more than blathering on about Ludwig. (Man, how Lovino hated that bastard. He would never understand his brother's attraction to that wurst-eating-macho-man.)

"...ve~ And then he took me out to this nice new restaurant! And guess what? They served pasta there! Isn't that great, fratello?"

"Yeah, yeah," the elder Italian muttered. "That's all fine and dandy. Now, are you finished raving about that potato-head?" Really, all of this talk of Feliciano's thriving love-life was making Lovino feel nauseous. And lonely.

"Oh, you're just jealous that big-brother Spain hasn't done the same for you."

"Wh- I... Idiot!" Lovino had never felt more glad that his brother was completely unable to read the atmosphere. He continued to splutter for several seconds until he could finally regain his composure. "Wh- why would I want An-Spain to do that for me? I have no interest in that stupid jerk."

"Aw, Lovi, you don't mean that!"

"Che. Hell yes I do."

The younger man pouted. "No, you don't!"

"Yes, I do."

Suddenly, Feliciano's face lit up. Taking this as a bad sign, Lovino raised his arms, backing up a few steps as his eyes widened in caution.

"Feliciano, please tell me you don't h-"

"I have an idea!" The sinister-looking grin on his face was doing nothing for his older brother's nerves.

"...What is it?"

"Let's make a bet~." Lovino instantly cursed himself. He was already looking forward to this even though he knew it would lead to disaster. "I bet you that I can get Luddy to ask me out on a date before you reveal your true feelings for big-brother!"

"...What do I get when I win?"

Feliciano paused. This induced even more panic in the elder. His younger brother had come up with two ideas within five minutes. The world was surely going to end at any minute.

"If you win, I'll get you as many tomatoes as you want." He paused once more, his smile revealing his inner trickster. "But, if I win, we get to have a double-date every week for the next month~!"

Lovino's brow instantly furrowed. "Wait, who said anything about me and that idiot get-" He was interrupted by a hand being shoved directly into his face.

"Deal~?"

He pondered. Either way, it looked like he would have to reveal his true feelings for Antonio, which, he had to admit, ha changed quite drastically over the years. The only way he could get out of this would be to refuse the bet, which was entirely against his nature. The elder brother sighed. He was going to have to accept the terms. Why not have some fun with this? He was always looking for ways to get free food and this would be the perfect opportunity to kill two birds with one stone.

Lovino shook his brother's hand.

"Deal."

And so, here he was, blatantly loitering outside of Antonio's house. He glanced down at his watch. Great. He had been standing in the same spot for nearly half an hour.

'Idiot!' he thought to himself. 'Get it together! Just tell the bastard that you love him and run away. It's as simple as that. Knock, admit, run. Nothing more.' The Italian nodded. Yeah, that sounded perfect. Now, to start moving...

After another five minutes of staring at the Spaniard's pathway, Lovino unknowingly let out a frustrated cry. Why couldn't he do this? Why was he such a coward? He sighed. At this rate, neither of the Italy brothers were going to win. Romano was just about to give up and drive back home when a shout from the fields behind the large house stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Lovi? Is that you? Wait up~!"

Antonio.

Lovino cursed himself once more. Of course Spain would be tending to his tomatoes at this hour. Of freaking course. His heart started hammering in his chest. He felt as if all of his confidence had drained from his body the second he heard that cheerful voice. By the time Romano had regained the ability to walk, a familiar face had already made its appearance, standing not two feet in front of him. Said face was topped with a worn straw hat that Antonio had been wearing for years and was resting atop a toned, tanned body draped with an overlarge cream blouse and a pair of baggy beige trousers - an outfit the Italian knew as "Antonio's gardening outfit."

Once his eyes had relocated back to the Spaniard's face, his own face had been doused in color. A knowing smile was playing at Antonio's lips and his emerald orbs shined with playful adoration. Lovino gulped. He knew what had to happen next, but the fear of rejection still loomed overhead like an anvil, just waiting to drop.

"Lovi~! I'm so glad to see you! But, um, why exactly are you here?"

This statement nearly caused Lovino to hit his head repeatedly against the nearest wall. 'Same old Spain.' He found himself thinking. Quickly regaining his defiant façade, Romano crossed his arms and scowled at the man standing before him.

"Che. Like I need a reason to come over."

This caused the other's face to brighten.

"Ah, of course not, Lovi! I was just curious as to why you just suddenly decided to come over. I thought you were still mad at me..." Spain chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish expression.

Mad? Oh, right. The last time the two had spoken, Lovino had become so fed up with Antonio's oblivious nature, that he had stormed while they were eating dinner.

"Wha- of course I am, bastard!" He was lying, but the Spaniard didn't have to know that. "B-but, I had something to tell you, so..." He glanced away, face flushing. "Here I am."

The beam sent his was nearly took out his vision.

"Great! But, before you tell me this important matter, let's go inside so I can cool off~." At this, Antonio bounced off and into his spacious home. Lovino shook his head, but followed obediently. Why was he in love with this idiot again?

The Italian swiftly made his way through to the kitchen, his short journey made even easier by his years of navigation around the many winding hallways throughout the house. The first sight that greeted him was a pleasant one: Antonio leaning back against his counter-top, drinking a clear liquid from a tall glass. His ill-fitting top was falling off one of his arms, collar askew, revealing a well-sculpted shoulder that Lovino had a hard time looking away from.

The color that coated his face was instantaneous. 'Why is the idiot so careless about his clothes? What if France saw him like this?' His thoughts were doing nothing to control his blush. Romano shook his head, trying his hardest to stay focused on the task at hand. He didn't want to put up with that damn potato-eater longer than he already had to.

"Ahh." Antonio gasped for air as soon as he had finished downing his glass of water. "So," he began. "There was something yo wanted to tell me?" He smiled.

Swallowing back his nerves, the younger nation nodded. This was it. He was finally going to reveal his feelings.

"I-" Lovino was stopped by the images passing through his head over and over again. Different scenarios were playing out before him. There were dozens of them. In some, he was beaten down, in others, Spain just completely rejected him. It was all becoming too much.

The Italian bit back tears ('That's not manly, you wuss!') and shakily muttered a "Never-mind...". He turned to leave the house.

Somehow sensing what was bound to happen next, the Spaniard leapt into action. Literally. Antonio had jolted up and promptly chased after his Italian. While he had no clue what the other had wanted to say, he could at least tell that it was important.

Thankfully for Spain, Lovino hadn't made it very far and, because this mind was elsewhere, was very easy to tackle and pin down.

"Gah! Get off me, idiot!"

Antonio grinned. If the blushing face below him was anything to go by, nothing was too terribly wrong. No, what really surprised him was the incredible urge he had to lean down and kiss him. Sure, Antonio had known about his feelings for the younger man for quite some time now, but he had never actually felt the need to act on said feelings. 'Well,' he thought to himself. 'There's no time like the present~!'

And with this, he leaned down and, without warning, captured the Italian's lips. Lovino, taken aback, lay there, frozen. His mind was soon overrun by turmoil. Should he kiss back and silently announce what his felt for this moron? Should he lay there, unresponsive, and pass up this chance?

'Oh, screw this.'

Spain nearly cried from relief when Romano finally began making an effort to kiss back. Feeling that the odds were now in his favor, he pressed his luck by running his tongue against the soft lips pressed against his own, begging for entrance. Lovino eagerly complied and welcomed the probing muscle. His slender fingers easily tangled in silky, curly locks. From here, a battle for dominance ensued. Tongues clashed, teeth clacked, and quiet sounds of pleasure filled the once silent air of the hallway.

Eventually, the need for air overcame their need for each other and they broke away, both panting and red-faced.

"Ti amo."

This nearly silent utterance both surprised and delighted the Spaniard. Lovino returned the feelings? But he was always hitting him! One glance at the Italian below him, though, told his all he needed to know. Hazel eyes were hooded, but starting intently into his own emeralds. His ivory skin was stained bright red and his mouth was open just enough to release his pants.

The smile that broke out across his face was blinding.

"Oh, Lovino, I lo-"

"LOVI! ANTONIO!"

The piercing shriek that echoed through the house was deafening and could only be traced to one source.

Feliciano.

"Lovi! I won the bet! Ludwig finally asked me out!" The peppy Italian bounced into the hallway, completely oblivious to the scene playing out by his feet. "Have you told Spain th-"

"Feliciano."

Antonio was impressed by the sheer amount of venom Lovino was able to inject into that one muttered word.

"Oh, did you not tell him y-" Finally, the younger Italian glanced downward. The couple could almost see the cogs turning within his mind. "Oops, am I interrupting something? Well, just call me when you're done and be ready by seven!" With this, he took off, leaving the building in matter of seconds.

Lovino groaned, letting his head fall to the floor.

"DAMN IT!"