Desaparición

Part 7

Spain practically danced around the kitchen in excitement as he prepared Romano's dinner. His Lovi hadn't broken any of his bones when he kissed him! He hadn't even pushed him away until he'd mentioned how much he looked like a tomato.

Which meant that France might have been right.

He still wasn't sure though if it was worth it. Especially since it meant he'd worried his Lovi and almost killed his tomato plants.

Oh well, there wasn't anything he could do now except make up to Lovi for his absence.

The images that flashed through his head of how exactly to do so almost made him entirely forget what he was currently doing. That is, until he heard a shout of "Hurry up, bastard!" from upstairs that startled him back into motion.

He pouted slightly, as he glanced toward the oven where his paella was about half-finished, the scent absolutely mouth-watering. "Lovi~ You know that I can't hurry the paella."

"Then bring me up some tomatoes, damn it! I'm starving!"

"All right, Lovi!" he called, dancing over to the refrigerator and grabbing the two biggest, juiciest tomatoes that he could find. A few were missing, he noticed. Not surprising after Romano had been in his house for any amount of time.

He washed them, checking both over to make sure they were entirely perfect. Then he hurried back upstairs and to his room, throwing open the door with a happy, "Here I am, Lovi~!"

However, he then froze in the doorway, his jaw dropping in shock at the sight that greeted him.

Romano was lying propped up against the pillows, his dark eyes narrowed at the door, now fixed on the tomatoes in Spain's arms. He sat up straighter, eyeing the offering with a greedy expression. "Stupid Spagna, don't just stand there."

That wasn't what had startled Spain, though. It was the fact that Romano had, for some reason, entirely unbuttoned his shirt so that it revealed most of his chest. He was quite sure that he'd never seen anything more incredible than the image of the rather irritated Italian lying back against his white sheets, his mostly bare chest rising and falling as he breathed. And now he was blushing, as he noticed that Spain was staring at him.

"Chi—chigi~ Are you just going to stand there, idiot? I want my tomatoes."

Spain slowly nodded, still unwilling to take his eyes off of the beautiful image in front of him. He slowly walked across the room to the bed and settled on the edge, handing the bigger tomato to his former charge.

Romano eyed him suspiciously for a moment, but the tomato was just too tempting to ignore. He settled into eating the fruit, ignoring Spain, who was eyeing him rather predatorily.

He managed to resist for a few more moments, but there was only so much self-control that he could exhibit when Romano had such a blissful expression on his face. And tomato juice was starting to drip down his chin.

Spain leaned in and captured the drips with his tongue, startling Romano who almost dropped the tomato onto the bed.

"Chigi~! Wha—what are you doing, bastard?"

Spain glanced up and, with a slight smirk, replied, "Making sure that none of the tomato goes to waste, Lovi."

Romano flushed even brighter, now closer to the color of the fruit in his hand, before looking away, obviously embarrassed. It really just made him look even cuter.

Spain couldn't resist that expression. He leaned in, capturing his lips again, tasting the tomato juice mixed with what was undeniably Lovi. He was quite sure that he'd never had anything so delicious before. He brushed his tongue against his charge's mouth, asking for permission to enter.

He refused at first, trying to scoot away, but Spain was not called the country of passion for nothing. He continued to tease against his Lovi's mouth, wrapping his arms around the smaller body and pulling him closer.

After a few more seconds, Romano slowly parted his lips, allowing the other nation to deepen the kiss, his hands reaching around the other nation's back to fist in his shirt as the half-eaten tomato dropped onto the floor, forgotten. Spain slid his hand to that one curled strand of hair, gently stroking it.

It would probably be accurate to say that Romano melted at that, a low moan sliding between his lips as he now deepened the kiss, both ignoring the need for oxygen as long as possible.

Spain was finally the one to break apart, gazing into the smaller male's eyes and smiling joyfully. "Te amo, querido. Te amo."

"Hmph," Romano refused to answer, instead glancing away quickly. He left his hands where they were, though, clutched around the fabric of his shirt.

"Do you love me, Lovi?" Spain questioned, as he stared down into the embarrassed, chocolate-colored eyes.

"Hmm." The hum was non-committal. But he hadn't automatically said no. That was something, at least.

Spain returned to those warm lips, concentrating more now on memorizing the exact taste of his Lovi and exactly which movements led to the best reactions.

Part of his brain was attempting to distract him, though, with a faint realization that he was hearing something a little odd from the distance. However, before he could pay enough attention to identify it, Romano broke that train of thought by making the cutest, most desirable sound he had ever heard.

At this moment, he couldn't care less what was going on outside of this room.

Romano broke them apart this time, his hands now clenching at his upper arms as he blushed down at the sheets. "M—maybe."

"Maybe?" Spain seriously was about two seconds from shrieking in joy and dancing around the room in happiness at that answer. However, as that would require him moving from this spot, he would just save that exhilaration for later.

"I said maybe, bastard," Romano continued, his voice slipping back into its usual irritated state. "Don't start thinking anything else." He started to move away, eyeing the Spaniard with an expression that plainly read, 'And now we're done. That's as far as its going today.'

He was willing to agree to that.

"I'm hungry, bastard," Romano suddenly complained, glaring at him. "I thought you were making paella."

Spain nodded quickly. He'd almost forgotten…

"One more kiss?" he finally questioned, almost teasingly. "Then I'll go finish the paella."

Romano glared at him for a long moment, but then sighed in irritation and nodded once. "Just because I'm starving and if I don't, it'll take even longer for me to get my food."

Spain immediately leant forward slightly, part of him half expecting Romano to pull away or start cursing him out.

He was absolutely shocked when he met him halfway instead.

Scratch anything bad that he'd ever said or thought about France. That pervert was a genius.

"You ever leave me like that again," Lovi hissed when he leaned back, "and you'll see just what my mafia can do to people who get on my bad side."

"Of course, Lovi. I promise—"

"Ve~! Nii-chan and Spain-nii are so cute!"

Both of the men whirled around at the unexpected voice to see the younger Italian brother standing in the wrecked doorway, his eyes shining in absolute joy and an excitement that was eerily reminiscent of Hungary. Behind him was Germany, who looked as if he would rather be anywhere else in the world right now instead of here.

And that included Russia.

For a very long while, no one spoke. Germany grabbed at Italy's arm, as if about to pull him from the room, while Spain nervously glanced over at Romano. "Lovi~"

He might as well not have bothered. The temperamental Italian was already off the bed, his face bright red in embarrassment and anger, his hands clenched into fists.

"I'm going to fucking kill you idiots!"

Italy had the good sense to immediately take off in the other direction, his Italian instincts for retreat kicking in at the first sign of danger. Germany hesitated for a moment, glancing back as if wondering how the Italian could even move that fast, before hurriedly taking his own leave.

Romano looked as if he were considering throwing himself after them, but then Spain slipped behind him and wrapped his arms around the other nation, effectively holding him back.

"Mi tomatito~"

"Quit calling me that, bastard. I'm going to kill them."

"It wouldn't be right to kill your own brother, mi amor," Spain replied, with a quick peck to his cheek. "I'll go finish that paella for you, all right?"

Romano paused for a moment longer, obviously still wanting to go and pummel both his brother and the German, but finally he relaxed back into the embrace with an irritated huff. "Fine, but it had better be the best damn thing I've ever tasted, bastard."

"Of course, querido." Spain released him and then practically skipped to the door before suddenly turning and calling back, "And don't worry. I'm never going to leave you alone like that ever again, mi tomatito. I promise."

OWARI

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A/N: And that's the end of this story. I hope that everyone enjoyed reading it. I greatly enjoyed writing it.

If people want me to, I might write a sequel to this that'll focus more on GerIta with background SpainxRomano. I haven't entirely decided yet and if I do write it, I won't start it til after next week… (Sigh, finals…)

Grazie! Please review and thank you to everyone who already has. You're amazing :D