Chap II – The Absolute Mistake

AN: Thank you for the reviews of the first chapter! And to answer your questions (some of you already guessed it anyway): This is NOT going to be a Spamano/FrUK/Germancest kind of story. The only have a brotherly relationship but that's the key reason of the Out of Bound Rule. The actual pairings will become obvious as the story comes along.

Spain remembers very well getting drunk. Very drunk. Badly drunk. But even so … he never thought himself capable of breaking the rule despite all the alcohol in the world in his system! It makes no sense! He doesn't even love or care for the other man so why … why … why … GOD WHY?!

Why is England in his bed?!

Staring with wide panicked eyes at the sleeping blonde next to him, Spain tried to calm his racing mind. Maybe nothing happened! Yeah, maybe they were both drunk and one had helped the other back to his room, they probably both collapsed on the bed and that's it! Yes! That sounds more plausible! Absolutely! That's what happened!

… Yeah, one problem with that.

They're naked. Both of them.

…

Damnit! Antonio held his head in his hands, palming his face in an attempt to clear his mind and remember the events of last night.

He was at the bar with Gilbert and Francis. Francis had whined and complained that his little master was angry at him and being seduced by some evil Portuguese sex-god that would ruin his little brother's innocence. Seriously, Francis can really overdramatize when he's drunk (and even when he's not drunk)! Spain remembers chuckling at the words, a dark smirk twisting his lips. Arthur is all but innocent and he should know since he was the one to have broken that innocence. Licking his lips in remembrance, Antonio couldn't help feeling slightly pissed that his brother was probably sleeping with what once belonged to him. Of course, at the time, the absolute rule did not exist and he was not a perfect trio with his two friends. It was a long time ago.

As the party began to slowly tune down and people began leaving back to the hotel, Francis got dragged away along with Gilbert by Ludwig because Arthur had made it clear that he was still angry with Francis and not willing to deal with him so he had asked Ludwig to owe him this favour. Antonio was about to go after Romano, hoping his little Italian wouldn't mind helping him drive to the hotel as he was way beyond drunk. But Italy had wanted to help Germany with Francis and Gilbert and there was no way Romano would leave his little brother alone with the two potato bastards and the perverted bastard! Sadly a car can only hold 5 people. Antonio remembers walking around and hoping to find another nation willing to drive him back. He thought of asking Roderich and the Austrian reluctantly agreed. Telling him to wait outside, the aristocrat needed to finish his conversation with Hungary first. Antonio shrugged and zig-zagued to the door.

The fresh air slapped his face, sobering him slightly, just enough that he would not trip over his own feet and land on the smaller figure in front of him. Instead he just bumped lightly, causing the other to jump in surprise. He recognised the voice of the other person before his face.

"João! Oh … Sorry." Arthur caught himself as he recognised the Iberian. It was just the wrong Iberian.

Antonio didn't know why but it ticked him off when Arthur mistook him for his brother. He knew they were very much alike and the confusion can happen. Although, it irritated him to no end, he remembers Arthur being one of the rare nations able to recognise them on sight. Just like he did now. But what bothered Antonio was that Arthur's first thought was to expect his brother. Why was he waiting outside too anyway?

"What are you doing here?" Antonio's slurry tone was harsh and hateful. He noticed Arthur's emeralds grow colder and his body stiffen. The Englishman looked away, frown on his face and seemingly wanting nothing to do with the Spaniard.

"I'm waiting for your brother. He's talking with America. They said they wouldn't be long but …" Arthur's voice trailed to silence and his expression turned to slight worry. He was aware that João didn't like America but he hoped the two were not having a fight. Should he go and check it out?

"You're driving them?" Antonio's tone was cold and empty, almost dull.

"Yes. America had a drinking contest with Russia so I let you imagine the result of that! And João is in no condition to drive either. Matthew offered to take us back to the hotel but I don't know where he disappeared to! He always does that! One day, I'll figure out how he disappears like that … Anyway, it's just us four."

Arthur paused and shot a suspicious side-glance towards the drunken Spaniard before sighing heavily and reluctantly offered:

"But if you need a ride we still have one seat left …" He couldn't exactly leave Spain's drunken arse to his own demise on the street … scratch that, he can very easily do that but if he did, he knew France would nag at him endlessly about being cold-hearted and not able to make friends! As if he'd ever become friends with Spain! Plus having him and Portugal in the same car is bound to spell trouble … shit, why did he even offer the Spaniard a ride?

Spain's mind didn't register much. Just enough to make him angry … no, wait, not angry … Furious. The idea of England driving his brother back … the idea of England and Portugal together … Along with America … Spain can just picture those two clinging on to the small Englishman! And he hated that mental image! If anything, Canadia or whatever his name, is alright … barely! America already took up most of Arthur's time during the party, and the rest of it was taken by Portugal. Spain had to spend his time watching his brother flirt with England the whole night! It frustrated him so much that he even temporarily ignored Prussia and Romano's arguments (they had been particularly loud but that could have been due to the alcohol) and had to drown his anger in alcohol or he might have done something he isn't allowed to do! And now, his brother's getting a drive back to the hotel?! Hell no! Why is Portugal always getting it his way?! Why is he the one England picked?! Why him?! Why is it always him?!

"Oi … Why did you pick my brother?" The Spaniard whispered, interrupting England's mental musing.

The emerald eyes looked up in surprised but could not see Spain's expression, shadowed by the dark night. Arthur shrugged, not really understanding why Spain asked him that. Why did he agree to drive Portugal back? Obviously because they're friends! Doesn't the Spaniard get tired of his rivalry with Portugal? Well, he knows Spain and Portugal hate each other but usually they just stay at a safe distance from one another. It was already the same back then … Arthur brushed away the memory, not wanting to lose his composure in front of Spain. It wouldn't matter anyway. Back then or now, Spain has and will hate him.

"Because he's my best friend." Arthur answered as if it were obvious.

"… Did you sleep with him?" Spain's voice didn't betray any emotion, almost like he were interrogating the blonde. Arthur shot a shocked glare at the taller man, eyes wide and his face flushed in embarrassment and offense.

"How is that any of your bloody business?!"

"So you did …"

"Why do you even ask?! You don't care! You hate us! You hate him for god knows what childish reason of your past! And you hate me!" Arthur bit his tongue on his last word.

Yeah … he knew it already but it's still painful to hear it out loud … especially from his own mouth. Spain hates him. Everyone knows that. Even America once enquired on why Spain hated him so much. Hell, the only one that seemed to question otherwise was Feliciano! And he's not exactly a reliable source! What did he say again …?

"But isn't Hate too strong an emotion that you'd waste it on someone you don't care about?"

Arthur smiled sadly. That kind of logic doesn't work on nations. Otherwise, why would we have wars? It's only logical for nations to hate. Care? Right … since when did Spain ever cared for England?

Antonio watched a sad smiled stretch on the blonde's lips. Why did it piss him off so much? Yes, he hated England. But why did it hurt when he heard England openly claim that he hated him?! Why did it bother him that England thought Spain hated him?!

"Yeah … I hate you." Antonio muttered before he leaned forward, grabbing hold of the younger nation.

Arthur barely had time to react than he felt a hand grab the back of his head and pull him into a deep sensual kiss. The emeralds widened in shock, staring back into the dark lustful olives. Pushing and struggling, Arthur attempted to break away but Antonio in his drunken state was relentless. Wrapping his arms around Arthur's body, he kept a firm grip on the blonde. England finally managed to end their kiss but his body was still tightly held against Spain's. The strong tanned arms felt much warmer than usual and Antonio's whole body felt like a burning fire that would consume the island nation. Arthur tried pushing and forming some sort of distance between them but only centimetres between their lips was all he could manage, with his arms blocking against the broader chest of Antonio. Through the clothing, Arthur could feel Antonio's erratic heartbeat and his heated skin touch. Gulping, Arthur glared furiously in Antonio's dangerously dark olives. The last time Arthur had seen such a look in those eyes was when he challenged Antonio's authority over the seas … and not just the seas.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, you drunken idiot?!" Arthur snapped, glad that his voice was as cold and harsh as it should be. Antonio lifted an eyebrow, amused smirk cornering his mouth and he gently leaned closer to Arthur's face. Arthur had no way to retreat as he felt his body being pushed against a cold wall, trapped with the boiling hot body of Spain.

"Inglaterra~ You're blushing~!" Antonio purred seductively, his hands roaming avidly over Arthur's stiff body.

"I am not! You're just too hot and too close!"

"Eh? You think I'm hot? That's so cute! I didn't think Inglaterra would look at me like that!" Antonio chuckled darkly and his expression softened slightly, his lustful gaze less aggressive than before.

Arthur shook his head, rolling his eyes in exasperation.

"I didn't mean it like that! I mean you are literally hot! Do you have a fever or something? You're suffocating me and I can't breathe! Let go now! Portugal is going to come back and if he sees …"

"So what?" Antonio's coldness returned, his eyes blazing in anger now and his expression curling into a sadistic smile breaking his face.

One of his hands reached up to cup and caress England's face, the other leaning against the wall, trapping Arthur. His leg pushed up in between the blonde's, grinding softly their bodies together. Arthur felt his blood rush and his body warm up in ways he didn't want it to. He tried pushing Antonio away but the Spaniard pulled him in another kiss, holding his face with his hand pressing long fingers against each cheek, cupping his chin.

Arthur felt the iron taste of blood as his lip was bitten by Spain. Why is this even happening? The taste of alcohol and blood in his mouth somehow didn't bother him as much as he let believe. Unconsciously, Arthur found himself wanting to kiss the Spaniard. But this is … only Spain's selfish desire. Just like in the past. Nothing changed.

Antonio felt the kiss break suddenly as he was pushed back. He blinked in slight surprise at the blonde glaring at him fiercely. Spain felt his heart jump at the threat of those emeralds. Why? Why is it that England can only glare at him? And why could he only glare back?

Ah … Just like back then …

Antonio smirked, amused. He leaned closer to the blonde, his weight serving as pressure to make Arthur unable to move.

"So what? Arturo … What if I were to take you from my brother?" He suggested darkly, licking his lips.

Arthur frowned, lost in their conversation.

"What are you …? Take me …? Oi! I'm not your bloody property!" Arthur flared up, remembering how a similar conversation happened a long time ago. He glared viciously at the taller man insulting him. He's not just a mere property to be owned! That's exactly why Arthur knew he and Spain would never get along! Even if he's drunk and even if Antonio somehow reverted back to his old self due to the alcohol, treating him like he did back then …! Unacceptable!

Spain's mind flashed back to a similar discussion. Ah right … back then, he had foolishly said …

"Yes, you are. You are mine. Only mine." Antonio whispered in the blonde's ear, nipping and licking softly, rejoicing in the low angry growls of his victim.

Arthur seethed through his teeth but couldn't stop the feeling of pleasure the Spaniard was giving him. Damn! Getting drunk and acting like he did in the past, it's as if Arthur was pulled back in time! And just like back then … he could not understand Spain's actions.

"W-Why are you doing this … Spaniard?" Arthur spat in anger but his voice trembled too much to make a believable threat. Antonio smirked at this. He always found it exciting the way Arthur struggled so much. He never got to sleep with anyone that was quite that resilient and resisted his charms this well. It makes the chase all the more delightful!

"Why, you ask? Hm … I don't know." Antonio considered the question thoughtfully, briefly interrupting his ministration of Arthur.

"Why did you dance tonight? Why did you let João touch you? Why did Alfred capture your attention most of the evening? Why were your cheeks so flushed when talking with Prussia and Denmark? Why are your eyes so ethereal? Why is your voice so taunting? Why? I don't know. You tell me. Why are you standing there on your own, prey to anyone as I am demonstrating right now?" Antonio's tone turned harsh and almost scolding.

"Why are you always on my mind? Why do I hate you so much? Why did you leave? Why can I never keep hold of you? Why do you dare smile to others than me?" His voice dropped turning almost to a mutter.

Arthur blinked a few times, unsure if he had heard correctly. Antonio must be drunk for suggesting such strange words. Sober, he'd never even look at Arthur. There is no way this is real. Is he even conscious of his own words? Probably … not.

"Are you crazy? You're drunk! You should just find someone to drive you back and we can talk this over tomorrow after you've sobered up." Arthur argued and attempted to push away, succeeding as Antonio let him go. Although part of his mind was hoping that Antonio might actually not just be throwing words at him … if he can remember those words when sober then …

"Who am I kidding …?" Arthur muttered to himself as he walked away from the staggering Spaniard.

Walking to unlock his car, Arthur shut the door and switched on the engine, waiting for Alfred, Matthew and João to show up. What's taking them so long? The door clicked and the seat next to him was taken, followed by the slamming shut of the door. Arthur sighed and turned a warm smile to his best friend … but it wasn't his best friend. Damn it all!

"I liked your smile better than this face of horror and disgust." Antonio snarled, smirking as he leaned in his seat, watching Arthur with amusement.

"Antonio! What the bloody hell?! Get out of my car!"

"No. You said I needed to find someone to drive me back."

"Someone else, you wanker! Not me! As if I'd drive you after you …"

"After I what, Arturo?" Antonio leaned closer to Arthur. If the wall had been an inconvenience earlier, the enclosed space of the car was almost just as bad. Or maybe worse seeing how Antonio was licking his lips and slowly leaning on top of the nervous blonde.

"You thought we were finished? I just agreed that we should go back to the hotel first. I never agreed to let you go." Antonio purred as he finally was fully holding Arthur down, the blonde's head against the window and their lips meeting passionately.

"I'm not letting you escape like last time. Never again." Antonio whispered in between two kisses, his lips devouring the other's.

Arthur moaned, unable to stop the pleasurable feeling Antonio was causing him. He never really understood how the Spaniard could make him feel so helpless and needy. He both hated it and wanted it. Arthur's mind blanked out and all thoughts of escaping were thrown out the window when Antonio palmed his crotch teasingly. Arthur's hands snaked around the Spaniard's neck and Antonio's low growl of satisfaction for Arthur compliancy was enough to make the blonde shiver in desire. Their tongues fought and Antonio reluctantly felt the other overpower him. The smirk on Arthur's face was both antagonising and a serious turn on. Growling possessively, Antonio trailed hickeys down Arthur's neck and collar bone, biting and sucking like an animal would devour his prey. Why did it taste so damn delicious?

"Antonio?"

The Spaniard paused suddenly and hissed in anger at being interrupted. He glanced up, drunken angry gaze watching Roderich search for him. The Austrian looked around for a few minutes before walking back inside to search for him. Antonio smirked in satisfaction. He was not letting anyone interrupt his pleasure. Except maybe the blonde beneath him.

Arthur suddenly snapped back into reality and out of the lustful dream. He saw Roderich search for Antonio, probably to drive him back to the hotel. So the bastard did have someone to drive him! What is the wanker thinking then? Arthur cursed himself for letting Antonio play with him this far. He roughly pushed the Spaniard off him as soon as Roderich was out of sight.

Antonio tumbled back into the passenger seat, staring in surprise and confusion at the flushed blonde. Antonio had many questions and thoughts crossing his mind but only one remained: Arthur's damn cute when he's blushing! A hungry grin quickly found its way on the Latin's face as Arthur was rearranging his dishevelled clothing. The visible trail of love-bites on the pale skin of Arthur's neck only caused a satisfied growl in Antonio. The sight of his possession was both pleasing and appealing. He wanted more. He wanted to examine every inch of his possession. Just like last time all those centuries ago!

"Get out of my car." Arthur growled harshly.

"No." Antonio answered with a teasing grin.

"Spain, you already have someone to take care of your drunken arse so stop making me do … this!"

"I don't want anyone to take care of my ass. But I do want to take care of yours personally!" Antonio purred seductively and received a strong punch in his face.

"You try that again … and I'll rip your balls off." Arthur spoke in a cold merciless tone. Antonio's excitement only grew more as he licked his lips. Having to tame such a wild animal as the Englishman was thrilling and exhilarating! He would make Arthur submit and beg for him! Oh, he will!

"I'd love to see that, Arturo. But later. Let's go back first. I'm shackling and tying you up if I have to, carino. Don't tempt me because I will drive you back myself if you do not."

"You're drunk! Don't be ridiculous and stop talking nonsense …" Arthur felt a sudden panic that Spain was actually dead-serious when the Spaniard pulled him out of the driver's seat and onto his lap, holding his arms behind his back, and preventing the blonde from moving. Antonio leaned to whisper in Arthur's ear, his breath tickling the blonde's skin.

"I'm serious, mi rosa. You are not escaping me."

"Stop it … you're drunk!"

"You've been saying that a lot. So what if I am. Am I any less going to carry on my threat? You should know better, Arturo! When did I ever change my mind half-way through something?"

"… Why are you … why all this …? You … hate me." Arthur gently tugged on Antonio's grip, silently complying and asking Antonio to release him. The Spaniard considered Arthur's words silently before biting hard into the back of Arthur's neck, making Arthur jump and yelp in pain. Blood leaked out of the wound and Antonio only gazed at the mark in satisfaction. He released Arthur and watched him take his seat back behind the wheel, restarting on the engine.

"Yeah, but you're mine." Antonio answered and watched Arthur drive them back to the hotel in silence.

Antonio cursed in his breath. He remembers the way he had carried Arthur over his shoulder and up to his room. He remembers the angry complains of the Englishman turning to moans of desire under his touch. He remembers the delicious taste of Arthur's body and the way they melted perfectly against one another. He remembers Arthur's sweet perfect ass …

Shit.

Antonio ran a frustrated hand through his raven locks. Now that he was sober, all of this sounded ridiculous! How could he have even felt any kind of attraction to the cold Englishman? Even drunk as he was, that should not have happened! Why did he get triggered by Arthur's words of meeting with his brother? Yeah … it must have been because he wanted to spite his brother! Antonio could not think of any other reason why he would willingly seduce and sleep with the English blonde. He never would even without the Absolute Rule condition … …

…

Oh shit!

Antonio felt his mind panic as he stared back at the peaceful expression of the blonde. He had just broken the Absolute Rule!

... Now, he's dead!