Hey everyone! This is my first Hetalia fic and I really hope you enjoy it; this is one of my favorite pairings so I hope I did okay and represented it well. I was really excited while writing it but now that I'm posting it, I'm rather nervous.

Rating T for Romano's slight potty mouth.

(And for those who don't know, Veneziano and Feliciano are both names for Romano's brother Northern Italy. Feliciano is his human name.)

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

Romano was sitting on the floor in his- well, Spain's - kitchen. The refrigerator was wide open in front of him and he was staring at it as though his fierce glare would somehow produce food inside the empty space.

Romano's stomach growled and he directed his gaze to it instead. Damn, I'm starving… he thought. When is that damn tomato bastard gonna get here?

As if on cue, Spain walked through the door with bags of groceries in his hands. "Oh, Romano! I'm back! Where are you?" he called, making his way towards the kitchen. He had just set the bags down and started to put things away when Romano got up from the floor. He greeted Spain with a grunt, grabbed a couple of tomatoes from one of the grocery bags and stalked into the living room to finally satisfy his hunger.

"Romano," Spain began excitedly. "You'll never believe who I saw at the supermarket. Guess. No? Well, it was Ludwig. He said that Feliciano wanted to try out some new dish so he came to the area to buy ingredients for it. We had a nice chat and he told me all about how your brother is doing…"

It was here that Romano tuned out what Spain was saying. Just him talking about Feliciano is such an affectionate way dredged up memories that he'd rather forget. He bit into his tomato harshly and squeezed his eyes shut as though that would keep the memories at bay. It didn't.

Spain had left the house and had been gone for a while, so Romano, who had still been very young back then, decided to follow him since there was no way that he wanted to be stuck alone in that big empty house. He wasn't scared…he just wanted to make sure that Spain didn't do anything stupid.

He followed Spain all the way to Austria's house and had seen his younger brother sweeping out front. His anger had flared up when he saw the way Spain looked at Veneziano, but that was nothing new. People also looked at his brother that way; they always gazed at him with affection and love and everything else that people didn't look at Romano with. He was used to that, expected that, but that didn't keep it from hurting every single time it happened.

Then little Romano had heard something he wasn't supposed to hear. He heard Spain asking, no begging Austria to trade with him. Romano shouldn't have been surprised but he was. He had thought that Spain had liked him even though he never did what he was told. Why had been stupid enough to think that? Spain was just like the rest of them – he preferred Veneziano over Romano. Everyone did, so why should Spain be the exception?

Romano had ran back to Spain's house, crying like the emotionally broken child he was. When Spain came home, he screamed at him, cursed at him, the tears running down his face just as rapidly as they had on his way home. But when Romano tried to tell Spain that he knew all about how he wanted his little brother more than him, he found that he couldn't so instead he blamed his tears on not being able to find the bathroom, which was lie. He knew exactly where it was since he often hid in there when it was time to do chores. And the "pee" on the floor? Just apple juice, not that Spain had been able to tell the difference. That damn bastard never noticed anything, especially when it came to Romano…

Romano was brought back to the present when he felt something damp and mushy in his hand. He glanced down to see that he had been squeezing a tomato so hard that he had crushed it. The red liquid ran down his finger and landed with little splats on the floor.

"Chigi…" he muttered to himself as he got up to get a small towel to clean his hand with. As he walked towards the kitchen he realized that the idiot was still babbling on and on about his brother.

Romano was surprised to find that instead of tuning out Spain like he usually does when people go on and on about his brother like that, he had stopped at the doorway and was actually listening to every word that came of the other nation's mouth. And each one slammed into him roughly, mercilessly, since life seemed to have no mercy when it came to Romano.

Just as cute as ever…. can't wait to see him again…always had a soft spot for him…I miss Feli…

Romano's fists clenched at his sides and he squeezed his eyes shut again. This time it was to suppress burning tears, not painful memories. He shook his head furiously as Spain obliviously went on. Situations like these always bothered Romano, but he had never cried, at least not in front of the person unwittingly causing him pain. But then again, Spain was a special case. He always was. For some strange reason, Spain's opinion mattered more to Romano than any other and Spain's words affected Romano more strongly than anyone else's did. Too bad the bastard didn't know this or maybe he would be more attentive to Romano's feelings. And shut the fuck up.

"….we really need to invite them over sometime since it's been so long since I've had a meal with Feli! I really wish he was over more often and-"

"Shut up." Romano said in a low, dark voice.

"What?" Spain said, turning towards Romano with a confused expression. "But I was just talking about your cute little brother…"

Something inside of Romano snapped. He wasn't sure what: his mind, his body, his heart? But Romano could feel something inside of him break and the pain inside of him had to be released. It was just too much to bear.

"Of course you were talking about Feliciano, you fucking bastard! That's all anyone ever talks about! Feli this, Feli that; oh he's just so cute… Well, I don't give a damn! I'm the older one, okay? So what if I can't paint like he can or if I'm not as stupidly happy all the time? That doesn't mean that you can start ranting about how great he is when I already know you don't fucking want me and you never have!"

"Romano…" was all the startled nation could get out. Is Romano crying?

"Yeah, that's right, I fucking know all about you damn bastard. How could I ever forget about how you tried to trade me for my little brother? How could I forget you begging Austria to take me because you obviously couldn't stand me? I don't care if you're the damn exception to everything I feel, you're still fucking stabbing me with all your talk!" Romano screamed. He hadn't meant to let the part about Spain being the exception to everything out but his emotions had gotten the better of him and it's not like Spain would understand what he meant anyway. Oblivious bastard.

As soon as Romano finished shouting, they both became aware of the overpowering tension that filled the room like a fog. It wrapped itself around their bodies and tightened it's grip on them both. It was thick and suffocating and made it hard for Romano to see, although his blurry vision could've have been caused by his tears.

"Romano," Spain began softly, his voice hesitant but unexpectedly stern. "I'm sorry that you heard me asking Austria to trade but I back then I was younger and hadn't bothered to get to know you yet, although we both know you didn't make it easy. You say you can never forget that moment, yet you seem to so easily forget how I kept France away from you. Or how I fought Turkey to keep you."

As Spain made his way closer to him Romano found himself thinking that it was strange that although his face was wet, his mouth was dry.

"I didn't realize how much my praising your brother like that bothered you and for that I apologize, but I thought you knew how special you are to me. I cherish you in a way that no one – not even Feliciano – comes close to being."

Romano's eyes widened. No, he had to be lying. Right? Romano wasn't sure. He thought that Spain was just like everyone else… but then again he was always the exception.

"I hate how lowly you think of yourself. I hate how everyone fails to make you feel as important and special as you really are. I hate that I'm part of everyone. I hate seeing you cry. I hate seeing that your expression is seriously upset instead of cutely irritated like it normally is. I hate that I can't seem to get past your barriers. I hate that I hurt you."

Spain stopped right in front of Romano, who was having trouble breathing. Between his previous sobs and Spain's current proximity, he just couldn't seem to get enough air into his lungs. His gasping made it sound like he was drowning and he was. He was drowning in the words of the man in front of him.

"But there's so much that I love too, Romano. I love the way you smile when I compliment you and you think no one's watching. I love the way your face lights up when I give you something, even though you try to hide it. I love how you try to be strong even when I know you're upset. I love how even though you keep me at a distance, you keep me closer than you keep others. I love you, Romano, and only you."

With this Spain leaned down kissed Romano softly on the lips. At this point, the younger nation was frozen with surprise, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. His brain was still processing Spain's words so all he could do was stand there dumbly. Spain pulled away after a brief moment and finally Romano seemed to regain control of his body. He blinked a few times before he whispered, "I don't understand. How can you love me? I'm rude, bitter and the total opposite of Veneziano. He's the lovable one, not me…"

"Ah, my little Romano," Spain sighed. "I thought I've proved myself by now. I don't love him the way I love you. I can never love anyone the way I love you."

Slowly, Romano leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Spain in a hug. He rested his head against the older nation's chest. They stayed like this for a while, wrapped in each others' arms. Spain had a serene smile on his and was humming so quietly that had Romano not had his head against his chest, he never would have heard it.

After relaxing against Spain like this for some moments, Romano pulled back just enough to look up into his eyes. "L-listen up, 'cause I'm only going to say this once."

Spain nodded and his eyes were full of comfort and love as he looked down at the younger nation. This gave Romano the courage to continue. He was embarrassed but he felt that he needed to say this out loud.

"I thought that e-everyone loved my brother and n-no one cared about me at all…I was wrong. You're the exception to that. I thought that I could just go on hating everyone, hating you. I was wrong about that, too. I…I never hated you. I thought I hated everyone but you were the exception. It's…you're…dammit, you're the exception to everything I thought and I love you too, you bastard!"

Now it was Spain's turn to be surprised. "Do you really mean that, Romanito?"

Romano glared. "Did it sound like I was joking?"

In lieu of a response, Spain leaned down and kissed him. This time, Romano kissed him back. It was amazing; at least Romano thought it was. It was like a bundle of contradictions in one kiss. It was soft and strong, it was a cool fire, it was confident yet hesitant. It was gentle and passionate, and most of all, full of love. It felt like an eternity passed before they pulled away.

"Romano?"

"What?"

"You don't need anyone else to make you happy because you have me. I love you."

"Yeah, I know. You're all I need. I love you too, bastard."

So, how was it? Please tell me how I did in a review! Constructive criticism is welcome.