[[ DISCLAIMER:
I am merely a Fanfiction author; Axis Powers Hetalia and all of its official franchise, works, and merchandise belong to Hidekaz Himaruya.

STORY INFO:
Tre - Untitled Jumpstart Ficlette
Drama/Romance
Characters Spain and Romano
Pairings - SpaMano

ENJOY AND PLEASE REVIEW!

Also, feel free to request more oneshots/drabbles about any APH couples/characters in the Review section, I'm always looking for more inspiration to practice my literature.

**Forgive me any typos or mistakes within my collection, my computer isn't always cooperative. ]]

~~~~~~~~~~Story 3: Tre~~~~~~~~~~

"There are just some things you can't know about me, deal with it."

"I want to know everything about you, I do. Why can't you just tell me?"

"It's just..."

"Just?"

"It's too hard, Chico. I don't want to discuss this."

"But Lovino, it's important to-"

"Do you respect me?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"I asked you, 'do you respect me'."

"Of course I do-"

"And you respect my wishes?"

"Yes, we talked about this when we first got together, remember?"

"Alright, then my wish is for you to shut up. Respect it."

The Spanish male bit his lower lip, leaning back against the railing of the wooden bridge on which the two men stood. The sunset painted the sky with warm colors, but the air was cool. Hues of orange and yellow glowed over his mysterious lover and reflected off of his amber-green eyes. The wind tousled his dark auburn hair and it wisped about his stoic face.

Lovino was beautiful, staring blankly at the fine landscape before him. Glistening waters, stunning colors; yet he seemed to display no outward interest.

Indeed, he was as beautiful and bright as day, yet as mystic and as cold as night. Lovino Vargas, a beautiful monster.

"You think too much," Lovino suddenly whispered, taking his eyes off the landscape before him and turning his head to stare back at Antonio intently. Hands still resting on the wooden railing, he tapped his gloved fingers against it as though impatient.

"Is that so?" Antonio only smiled at the quiet strawberry-brunette man as jade eyes met emerald; his features lighting up in interest. "How did you know?"

"I told you, I can read you like a book. Anyone can, really." Lovino scoffed, brushing off the other's goofy expression and returning his gaze to the horizon. "And...Well, my grandmother always told me something like: 'when people look at you with a strange expression, don't feel insecure. It may seem like they're judging you, but they probably just think you're so handsome that they can't take their eyes off of you!'" Though he still spoke in the same rough, timid fashion; there was a twinkle in the enigmatic man's eyes as he said this.

Antonio blushed, laughing heartily as he reached out to still Lovino's gloved, tapping fingers. "You're right, I was just thinking about you. Are you a psychic or something, Vargas?"

"Mm mm," The shorter brunette shook his head. "Again, you're easy to read; staring at me with that dopey smile...you also think I'm strange, don't you?" He glanced down as Antonio gently gripped his hand, looking rather unsettled.

"Strange?" Antonio mulled over the word in his head.

Honestly, yes. Lovino Vargas was a little strange, but only because he was so timid and mysterious with his feelings and his past. All Antonio really knew about the kid was that he was some sort of biker who was never caught dead in anything other than a lot of leather or a designer suit or two.

Even now as the day edged into a blue dusk, Antonio grinned as Lovino reached into his pocket for his sunglasses. He did this often, for he seemed to enjoy hiding his pretty face from the world and remaining as anonymous as possible; even in the night.

The boy looked fierce and strode with the confidence of a professional wrestler, but his speech was often mumbled and his cheeks fond of embarrassed flushing. In leather, huge black boots, chains and bandanas; he was something like a shy little child trapped in an American fashion store. Come to think of it, how old was this guy anyway?

"Not strange," Antonio stuttered after he realized he had been lost in his own thoughts a while. Lovino was gazing at him once more, only skeptically, telling by the twist of his lips. "You're just...unique." The Spaniard turned to face his lover, spinning him around as well so as to be face to face.

"Mysterious," Antonio added as he slowly reached out to slip the dark glasses off of the other man's face. He grinned, placing the accessory back in Lovino's coat pocket. "You don't need those, Silly."

Lovino backed away, obviously flustered by the close proximity. "Don't touch the shades," He hissed, turning towards the water once more and sulking; though he did not replace the glasses.

Antonio sighed, feeling dejected. In a white T-shirt and faded jeans, he already felt out of place around Lovino enough. But the other's uncooperative attitude made him feel miles and miles away.

Who knew an assistant mechanic and some rebel biker kid could fall in love over a few rare interests and a couple of trips to the local diner? Are rock music, chocolate cheesecake and cherry soda all it takes to build a happily ever after these days?

Certainly not.

For even after Lovino took Antonio on his first motorcycle ride, and they crashed and unsurprisingly ended up sharing the same hospital room; neither could approve nor deny any mutual romantic feelings.

It was only after they went down to the lake together, and in the events Antonio found out Lovino indeed could not swim- he ended up saving the boy's life and well, technically kissing him in the process. Lovino had indeed ended up alright, and upon finding out Antonio had performed such CPR on him; punched the man…then kissed him once more.

It wasn't love at first sight.

It wasn't a super dramatic love scene, rather unattractive and humorous, actually.

It took a long time of talking and hanging out before anything official happened.

But though Lovino was always rather introverted; Antonio was troubled. In the past two months they've officially been together, things between them have only grown more and more glum. The shorter boy does not like to be touched nor "romanced like some sort of pansy". He doesn't even talk about himself much, at least not his personal life.

All Antonio knew was his name was Lovino Vargas, he had a rough past, a minor criminal record, a smoking problem, a "fucking loser" of a grandfather, and an amazing grandmother. He also liked cars and motorbikes, and though he now resided in Spain he lived in the USA for a long while; therefore he's fond of American music, fashion and cuisine.

There was a long silence between the two. Antonio faced the now moonlit waves as well and inched closer to his lover.

Lovino visibly stiffened as the curly-haired Spaniard snaked an arm around his waist, and he sneered at the man once more. "The leather, you're going to ruin the leather."

"Then take it off. Why do you wear that heavy jacket all the time, anyway? I don't think I've ever even seen you without it." Antonio chuckled, kissing the boy's cheek. "Besides, Amor*; it is the middle of summer."

"So what if it is?" Lovino growled, clenching his fists to keep from almost naturally shoving the other man away. "I like it; do you have a problem with that, Toni?"

"No, of course not-" Retorted the Spaniard, cooing smoothly. He was more than eccentric over the fact Lovino was letting himself be touched today, much less held. He swayed back and forth slowly with the boy in his arms; squeezing him from behind. "But don't you ever get too hot?"

Lovino was not relaxed in this grip, but he grit his teeth and bore it. It was for the sake of a cheesy boyfriend's soft heart, no less. Still, he felt much like a frazzled cat.

"I don't," He muttered, gripping the wooden railing of the bridge as if Antonio would pick him up and toss him over into the water at any moment. "Once you've lived in Miami, this place feels like nothing."

"Miami, Miami." Antonio echoed, nonchalantly reaching around to play with the zipper on Lovino's leather jacket. "Tell me more about your 'Miami'."

"It's wonderful," Lovino answered almost automatically, albeit wistfully. "It's my home away from home."

"Away?" Antonio continued, nuzzling the boy's ear and making him shudder whilst sneakily unzipping his jacket a bit. "I knew it. Your Spanish accent, it's different; though not American. Where are you truly from, then?"

Lovino sighed, hesitating. "'Talia."

"Italy?"

"Yes, I was born in Rome."

"Ooh, I've been there a few times when I was younger." Antonio beamed, more than happy to learn something new about his partner. "So if you were born there, when did you move to the USA?"

"You're asking too many questions again-"

"Come on, please tell me, Lovino?" Antonio whined, slumping down to rest his chin on Lovino's shoulder. "Really, I'm not asking you for your credit card number! I just want to know more-"

"Alright, alright, shut up." The Southern Italian groaned. "I ran away from home when I was fourteen, stowing away on some cargo ship to America. That's right; I abandoned my grandparents and little brothers carelessly."

Lovino's breath seemed to catch in his throat, a chill seeming to wash over him. "And yes, if- if I hadn't left, if I had been there to protect Marcello..."

Antonio panicked. Lovino seemed to be having some sort of internal breakdown, and ignorant in these topics, he didn't know what to say. He simply squeezed him tighter and encouraged him to go on. "You have brothers?" He asked softly. "Marcello, what happened to Marcello, Amor?"

"He's hurt." Was all Lovino muttered, before shaking his head and trying to pull himself back together. "At least, that's what I heard from my childhood friend, Maria. She's a sweet Filipina girl from my neighborhood. We still keep in touch, and she does her best to take care of my family for me."

"Why did you leave? How did you survive all alone in America?"

"I just- this...this is really none of your business, Fernandez. Are you some sort of cop or what? Ugh, I've already said too much."

"I'm not a cop, Vargas." Antonio sighed, wishing Lovino wasn't such a little clam. He was always peeking out just long enough to interest one, then snapping back shut to keep up the mystery. And as snappy little clams go, he most certainly would not open up again until he "felt like it".

Still determined to deviously remove Lovino's concealing jacket, Antonio began humming softly and leaving distracting trails of kisses along the shorter male's exposed neck. "I'm a mechanic, you know that. I've fixed your bikes countless times already."

Lovino grew unnerved, arching away from the man behind him and growling. "Quit that," he ordered. "You're a lousy mechanic at that, taking damn near forever to fix a freaking tire."

"I'm sorry," Antonio only giggled, resorting to swaying with Lovino once more. "I got caught up in talking with something, or someone; a little more interesting."

With a final jerk of the hand, Antonio unzipped the leather jacket that bound Lovino and quickly pulled it off of him, resulting in a loud gasp and a flurry of profanities. Spinning around to grab the jacket back from him, Antonio held the jacket out of Lovino's reach as he chuckled and looked him over.

Underneath the flashy coat, all Lovino wore was a fitted white tank top. But it certainly displayed fine, muscular arms well and showed off quite the chiseled abdomen. But it couldn't have been the wonderfully fit body Lovino was trying to hide from him- no, but the ink that nearly covered every inch of it.

"What the hell is wrong with you-" Lovino hissed as he continuously grabbed for the coat. "Seen enough yet, Asshole!?"

Portraits of vintage girls, clowns, mermaids, vines, crosses and strange words and phrases covered his arms in sleeves; though they were a bit difficult to view in the moonlight.

"Yes, tattoos." Lovino seethed, obviously annoyed with Antonio's shocked expression. He backed off and held out his arms for display. "Tattoos for gangs, prisons, dares, bets, memorabilia; you name it. They're on my back too, and chest and legs. I despise them, and they could get me into all sorts of trouble. Are you please with yourself yet!?"

"I-"

"Don't even speak. They're ridiculous, I know. I am a troublemaker, a no good criminal; a pathetic baby covered in big bad ink. I hate them, I hate myself, I don't even know why I did it or what they mean anymore."

"Lovino-"

"Do you see why I don't like talking about my past? It turns me into a total mess, a worthless Idiot." The man was hysterical now, staring at the tattoos on his arms as if they were an infectious disease.

"I don't want to remember, Antonio." He continued in a frenzy. "I don't want to remember my past's mistakes, that's why I came here; To start over. But here it is again, just haunting me! You asking me all these annoying questions all the time is not helping in the slightest! It's like my entire life is on my body, all my mistakes- right here in fine print. I don't even-"

"Lovino, stop that! Stop it!" Antonio suddenly shouted, rubbing his own head in frustration. "Wait, wait- so you're just ashamed, is that it? Honestly, I don't think our government or our people care if you have tattoos-"

"Just shut up, Antonio!" Lovino groaned in defeat, snatching up his jacket from the other man and throwing it back on quickly. "You don't even understand. I'm just going home, now. Goodnight."

As the boy turned to walk away; Antonio quickly reached out and grabbed Lovino's wrist, stopping him gently. "Wait, please. I'm sorry for what happened tonight; I really am. I should not have been so careless." He apologized honestly, taking a moment to kiss the top of the Italian's leather glove. "Please, say you'll meet me down at the auto shop tomorrow; around noon? I just want to spend more time with you-"

"Yeah, sure; whatever." Lovino grumbled, tugging his hand away from the Spaniard and striding onward off the bridge. Antonio watched in sadness as he disappeared down the darkened streets of Spain, assuming he was headed to the nearby parking lot.

With the rev, growl and zoom of a motorcycle; Antonio knew Lovino would make it home safely… wherever the crazy rouge's home might be.

Antonio crossed his fingers as he walked back to his car, whispering excitedly to himself.

"Tomorrow at noon, tomorrow at noon! Please, please be there tomorrow at noon, Lovino!"