Written for the hetalia kink meme – prompt, Spain waiting to take Romano's virginity until he is old enough: he is not a pedophile!

My history teachers all basically refuse to answer any more of my random and persistent questions, and I find a hard time finding credible things that pertain to my interests on the internet. That said, there are definitely culture!language!history!fails involved and I'm really really sorry. Did North Italy even live with Austria during the Italian wars? I don't know… But I tried hard, I did! … T^T

"We can't, Lovi. I know that we're married now, but sex is –"

"You bastard, I know what sex is!"

"Eh, Lovi, calm, calm, I didn't mean – "

The rest of the plea was drowned in a furious yell, made slightly adorable with the fact that Romano's voice cracked up half and octave in the middle. Of course, Antonio barely had time to giggle before being punched in the arm. And it hurt.

Ah… he should have expected this response. He had expected it, but… who was to blame him for hoping that his little Lovinito would play nice and behave for once?

"Lovi, querido," he tried to reason, "you know that I love you, si?"

"I don't know shit, bastard!" And with that, he strode out of the bedchamber. Antonio watched him go, watching the child's bare back with a hunger that he had, unfortunately, muzzled himself.

His wedding night could definitely have gone better.

Antonio had wished to wait. In his heart, he knew Romano was too young. Fourteen may have been a perfectly acceptable age to marry, and really, Romano was much, much older, as old as the fall of Rome. But some things ought to wait. Some things had to wait.

Antonio would not have pushed even marriage but, politically, things were getting tense.

It was Francis, mostly. Ah, Antonio loved the man but he had not learned to keep his hands off of other people's things. Or other people, actually. Consistently, Antonio found the Frenchman scheming and planning to extend his influence over one or the other of the Vargas twins, and even King Ferdinand was beginning to get worried.

"Declare a war," the king had said, all seriousness, once he had noted how jumpy and nervous Antonio had become. "Take what is yours. Keep it."

Antonio had been surprised at the steel in the king's voice, but after thinking about it for a moment, he had to admit that he understood; Queen Isabella had only so recently died. Maybe their marriage had been political, but after so many years of such closeness, the king had developed sincere feelings for her.

"Declare war," the king had repeated. Antonio nodded his head. He would. "And marry the boy," he added. "Politically unite yourselves, at the very least. We need this." He, too, was worried about France.

It had been an order. So Antonio had done it. Romano had scowled throughout the whole service but as soon as he was able he reached up and kissed Antonio with an enthusiasm that shocked him. Pleased him. But… but Romano was never one for such displays; not even after living so closely for so long. So Antonio was also rather perplexed.

It was only that night, when Romano was to sleep in Antonio's room for the first time, ostensibly at least, (if only the castle knew of how many nights a young boy had dashed in, in the wake of a storm, complaining about his bed being too big and hogging all the sheets) that the Spanish nation began to regret his decision.

Antonio had removed his embroidered tunic and long boots, rooting around for suitable clothing to wear to bed. Out of the corner of his eyes, he watched Romano do the same; and his gaze lingered on slowly broadening shoulders, flawless tanned-brown skin, the first vestiges of lean muscle. He felt a distinct greed for the land in front of him, but he also knew that he could wait. He could wait forever.

Could he?

That resolve was tried about one quarter of a second later when Antonio found himself with an armful of half-naked Italian, clumsily and sloppily kissing his face.

"Lovi… mmm…." mumbled Antonio, trying to get a word in edgewise, but Romano had a vise-like grip on the back of his head, as if determined to hang on until Antonio submitted.

He really, really wanted to submit.

But he didn't. Because that would be bad. With great mental difficulty, he pried Romano's fingers out of his hair and pinned his hands in one of Antonio's own. Romano struggled, but finally broke the kiss, glaring at Antonio.

"What was that for, bastardo?" He was breathing heavily and blushing cutely, but he was cute, that was the thing - not sexy or appealing, at least not yet.

"Lovi, we aren't doing this tonight," Antonio asserted firmly, pecking the Italian on the cheek. The younger grimaced and glared as harshly as he could – which was pretty scathingly, Antonio had to admit. He felt his heart pang a little. Now his little Lovi was angry at him! But it was necessary. "We're not going this," he repeated.

"Hell yes we are. We're married now and that's what married couples do. They have sex."

Antonio was rather befuddled. Romano hadn't even willingly submitted to a hug in years.

"Just because we are married doesn't mean anything. You are too young, and that is that. Why do you want to do this so badly?" Actually, with a speech like this, he was feeling rather parental.

"Why the fuck not, shitface?"

"Language, Lovi!"

"Fuck language!" Romano was struggling against Antonio's grip again, but this time Antonio let go, and Romano wriggled right out of his lap. "Don't you want to do it with me?"

"I know we are married, Lovi, but sex is – "

"I know what sex is!"

…. And that was how it had gone. That is what left Antonio sitting alone, half-naked on his marriage bed while Romano was probably stomping the halls of the castle to get to his own room, his old room. Antonio sighed. He should probably go find the boy. He might be crying. The thought made Antonio's chest pang again. He truly loved the little Italian, and one day he would be the best lover to him the world had to offer. But that day was not today. Romano probably didn't even understand himself why he wanted to have sex! And if he did not understand, he might do something he would regret.

And Antonio was going to make sure that, when he did do it with Romano, he would not regret it.

Instead, he grabbed his nightshirt and padded out into the night-dark hall, heading towards Romano's old room. The door was closed, but there were muffled sobs coming from the other side of the oak barrier. Antonio didn't knock, just slipped inside silently.

Romano was curled in the center of the bare mattress. The room had been cleared of most of the boy's possessions, but a few quilts had been placed at the end of the bed to be moved later. One of them was now wrapped tightly around the crying Italian, alone in a too-big bed.

Antonio laid down next to him, enveloping the cocooned Romano in a tight hug. "Lovi, querido…"

Muffled curses echoed from the depths of the quilt padding, and a small struggle followed, but wrapped as he was in fabric, Romano could not put up much of a fight. Antonio held him until he calmed down. He began to whisper to him again.

"I love you, you know. Really, mi corazon. One day, I promise, you and I will make love. Comprende?"

There was a long pause. There was no more struggle, no more swearing; Romano had probably fallen asleep. Antonio relaxed against him, attempting to follow his beloved into the land of slumber when a quiet murmur reached his ears.

"It's because I'm not a girl, isn't it? This marriage is all political, right?"

Antonio squawked, sitting up and rolling Romano over so that he could see his face. "No, Lovi! That has nothing to do with it! I love you, really, don't say that I don't!" Sure, he may have looked good in dresses when he was younger, but that was many years ago.

"Shut up, bastard. Stop yelling, I can hear you," mumbled Romano softly, turning his face away. "I get it. Too young."

Antonio kissed his cheek again, slowly, and then, gently gripping Romano's chin, kissed him once, very chastely, on the lips. "Some day, querido. I promise you." Romano snorted a reply, snuggling into his chest, and Antonio maneuvered the blanket around them both. Soon, they were both fast asleep.

In the morning, the chamberlain that was sent to find them was very confused.