Another much too long wait for another long chapter…sorry…but this is the LAST ONE, so…gah, I can't even believe it! Please enjoy the last chapter! I hope you all find the ending satisfactory…

WARNING: there is an increase in the use of the f-word in this chapter. xD It couldn't be helped.

All's Well that Ends Well...

"All my life, my heart has yearned for a thing I cannot name." -André Breton

"Lovino…I love you."

Romano could hear the words, could see Spain still staring at him with a mixture of fear and resolve, could feel the hand on his knee; but he could not accept it. He didn't think his heart was beating anymore, and his brain refused to think about what all of these things could mean. Instead, all he could do was sit there in the silence that followed Spain's announcement, his mouth hanging slightly open.

Silence?

His eyes flicked away from the Spaniard's for a moment to find the rest of the dinner party watching them, their own faces displaying varying degrees of shock. America looked as though he'd been mid-sentence when he'd stopped telling his story, his hands still raised in the air halfway through a gesture. Everybody had heard, and everybody was waiting for a response. Italy was the only one who didn't seem surprised; he was smiling delightedly.

The brief seconds it took for Romano to scan the table and to gauge the others' reactions was enough time for his brain to finally snap back to reality, to what Spain had just said to him.

He immediately turned his gaze back on Spain, who was still waiting for him. Romano opened his mouth and could almost hear the subtle intake of breath by everyone in the room.

"What the fuck!?"

Spain visibly flinched, and his face instantly fell. He withdrew his hand as Romano stood up. He banged his hand down heavily on the table; the silverware clattered satisfactorily and he shouted this time. "Who the fuck do you think you are? Until three months ago, I'd never even talked to you. You don't know anything about me! How dare you say that!? I can't even – I – " He found his voice was wavering, and he thought that if he tried to keep this up, he might break down and do or say something embarrassing. In front of everyone. So he chose instead to storm angrily out of the room, trying to keep his dignity as he went, but finding it hard to not start running. He truly appreciated for the first time just how large this room was.

Thankfully, as soon as he was out of sight of all those silent, staring faces, he could tear off down the hallway and just run. He didn't pay attention to where he was going, he just turned into the first doorway he saw as soon as he judged himself far enough away. He slammed the door behind him as he ran in, and as his fingers scrabbled against the doorknob, searching for a lock, he discovered that he'd chosen a room that, unfortunately, didn't have one. But there was no way he was going back out there, so he'd have to make do.

He was in one of the several libraries dotted around the house. It was nothing special, just a room with book-laden shelves lining the wall, a desk, a fireplace, and a leather armchair. He didn't come in here too often; when he did, it was usually just to escape from Italy for a few minutes; so hopefully no one would think to look for him here. If they were looking, that is.

He considered his surroundings for a brief moment, broodingly. Then he rolled his eyes. "Jesus fucking Christ!" he shouted, giving the desk a good kick. A decision he immediately regretted, but still, it felt good to do something to relieve the pent up…emotions he was feeling. He wasn't sure exactly what they were, but they sure as hell were violent. He stood near the doorway for a minute, hearing his heart beating in his ears and trying in vain to figure out what it all meant.

"Dammit," he muttered eventually, as he collapsed into the armchair. "Just God dammit!"

…

The second that Romano opened his mouth to respond to his sudden confession, Spain knew that he had made a mistake. This wasn't going to be pretty.

"What the fuck!?" Romano slammed his hand down on the table. "Who the fuck do you think you are? Until three months ago, I'd never even talked to you. You don't know anything about me! How dare you say that!? I can't even – I – " He seemed to find it hard to go on, and with a slight shake of his head, he turned and strode purposefully out of the room, though Spain thought he was looking a little desperate as he reached the door.

"Shit," Spain swore under his breath as the door shut behind Romano. He had just done the stupidest thing in recent memory. He really hadn't meant for it to come out so suddenly like that, but his emotions had just taken control and he hadn't taken to the time to consider…well, anything, really. I am so stupid sometimes!

He was on his feet and halfway across the room, picking up speed, when he heard his name coming from behind him. "Spain! Wait!" He paused and looked over his shoulder to see Germany approaching, Italy trailing a pace or two behind him and looking a little confused. The rest of the party was now discussing the event in hushed voices, their food cooling and lying totally forgotten on their plates.

Spain couldn't help but feel a little impatient at being held up by Germany. "Look, I need to-"

"No, you don't," Germany interrupted firmly, placing a hand on Spain's shoulder. He forced Spain, who was still focused on the door that Romano had exited through, to turn and look him right in the eye. "You need to leave him alone for a little while. I think you surprised him more than anything, and he needs some time to sort everything out."

"But I…" Spain gulped past a lump forming in his throat. "I didn't mean to…" His eyes were suddenly burning with tears that were longing to be shed. But not here. He blinked them back and took a deep breath to clear his eyes and throat.

"I know," Germany replied softly. "But it's best to let him think things through on his own."

Spain understood what Germany was saying, but he just couldn't accept it. He shook his head after a few seconds' consideration. "Germany, I appreciate the advice, but you just don't understand. I need to talk to him."

Germany gave him an ironic little half-smile. "Listen, I probably understand better than anyone here. I…well, I had basically the same reaction the first time Feliciano told me he loved me." He glanced to his side, where Italy was clinging to his arm. Italy nodded and smiled at Spain.

"He's right! Don't worry, Lovino will calm down eventually."

Spain hesitated for a few more seconds, looking between both of their faces. He still didn't like it; he wanted to go and talk to Romano now, to explain, to apologize, if he had to. He didn't like this whole waiting thing. But these two were so sure of themselves, and he was outnumbered. "Okay…" he muttered eventually, eyes downcast.

Germany nodded approvingly, and then jerked his head in the direction of the table. "Let's go back and eat," he suggested, already turning and beginning to walk, Italy following obediently, as usual.

"Actually," Spain said, causing Germany and Italy to stop and look back. "I kind of wanted… to be by myself for a while. I don't think I could sit with them after what just happened."

Italy smiled sympathetically. "Ve, of course! Do you know how to get to the room you used last time from here? You can go rest there, if you want!"

"Yes. Thank you," Spain said in relief. Even from here he could feel the eyes of the other nations constantly following his every move, and could almost sense them straining their ears as they tried to listen in. There was no way he could face them right now.

He walked briskly out of the room and into the hall, ignoring the increase in whispers that followed him across the floor. His chest felt a little tight as he couldn't help but wonder where Romano was right now. Would he have gone to his own bedroom? Perhaps a favorite sitting room? Was he the type that would want to go out into the garden? Spain doubted it, but his eyes still strained, looking, every time he passed a window. But he didn't go searching for him, because he knew that, in the end, Germany was right; he definitely needed a little time alone.

…

Romano wondered, yet again, if he should go somewhere else besides this little library. His own room was one option. Hopping in a car and driving far, far away was also tempting. But he still didn't leave his little sanctuary, because there was always that possibility that he'd run into… that person, as he was currently calling Spain in his head, in the hall as he made his way through his house.

So he just kept sitting, slumped far down, in the big leather armchair, watching as the sun finally sank below the horizon, throwing the room into darkness.

Lovino…I love you.

Romano squeezed his eyes shut, wishing that sentence would stop repeating itself in his head. Every time he heard it, his stomach sort of fluttered and he felt kind of fuzzy inside. He coughed a couple times to try and relieve the feeling, but in vain. He just continued to feel strange, to feel almost… nervous?

What could I possibly be nervous about? I was wrong about him, that's all. He's just another idiot in my life. He turned his face against the leather of the chair, inhaling the comforting smell and trying to relax. I need to clear my mind.

He took another breath and really did try to stop thinking about that person and just allowed his mind to wander, to think about anything else. But eventually a weird thought popped into his head, totally unsupervised.

When was the last time someone said that they loved me?

It's not like it had never happened before. A couple of the foolish, mortal girls that he'd been with over the years had said it to him, but he'd never returned the sentiment. Then again, he'd also never had a reaction like this before. So what was this feeling, exactly?

He was trying really hard to be angry. He felt he had every right to be angry, he'd been so embarrassed and surprised and confused. But now he just felt sort of empty and unsure. And almost… guilty. What's even going on in my life anymore? he wondered vaguely, miserably, as the room darkened around him.

…

…What the hell am I doing here? Romano wondered for the ten millionth time. He was standing in front of the door to the room Spain had previously used, staring down the wood grain like he held a personal grudge against it. He'd already been there for nearly a quarter of an hour, raising his hand to knock and then lowering it once or twice a minute.

He'd stayed in the little library for another half hour. He'd again tried to clear his mind, but certain thoughts that had wormed their way into his head had left him unsettled. He'd wandered around the house for a while and eventually ended up here. When he'd seen the door closed and light peeking out of the crack on the bottom, he'd figured that Spain was inside. So he'd stayed, deliberating and waiting. But he still didn't know exactly why.

Am I here to… apologize or something? he wondered uncomfortably. He knew that was what would be expected of him, but that didn't feel like the only reason, either. And he was beginning to get frustrated with himself. I don't know what I want! And it's all that bastard's fault! It's all his fault that I feel so…

Exactly how he was going to describe those feelings he never found out, because at that moment the door that was only inches in front of his nose swung open to reveal Spain's surprised face.

"Lovino," he breathed, and Romano watched as his face slowly turned red. He looked like a mess. His eyes were puffy and a little red; obviously he had been crying. He didn't look at all like his usual cheerful self. Romano felt a pang of guilt that surprised him. Since when had he cared about others' tears? "Oh. I'm sorry you saw me like this," Spain continued, blinking rapidly and avoiding Romano's eye. Was he going to cry again?

"No, I'm sorry," Romano said bluntly. He wasn't used to apologizing, and he didn't really like it, but he had to say something.

"It's not your fault, Lovino, you don't have to apologize," Spain replied softly.

"Yes, I do. I was… rude and… I don't know, just accept my apology!" The latter part of Romano's sentence came out a little more forcefully than he intended, but he didn't know any other way to express himself.

Spain looked a little surprised, but after a few seconds, he nodded, and a ghost of his usual smile lit up his face. Romano's stomach clenched at the sight, and it felt squirmy again, sort of fluttery. It made him feel lightheaded, reckless. He felt like he wanted to do something, something dangerous, all of a sudden. It was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.

What… is going on?

…

Spain couldn't believe that Romano was here, right in front of him, looking just as confused as he felt. Seeing him was surprisingly painful. Here he was, the man that had haunted Spain's thoughts for the last few weeks, but he was unattainable as of right now. Spain was too afraid to reach out and touch him, though he longed to do so.

They had fallen into an awkward silence after Romano made a gruff apology which Spain had been glad to hear, but now he didn't know what to say. Really, Spain was just waiting for the moment when Romano would turn around and make some excuse to leave again. From all he knew about Romano, it would be coming soon, and then he would be left alone with his thoughts once again, nothing having changed, nothing having been explained.

But what was there to explain?

He could apologize for embarrassing both of them in public, and for looking like a mess because he'd been crying, but he would never apologize for how he felt about Romano. Even if his feelings were never returned and it was all because of his actions, he would still never say sorry for it. So right now he would just have to wait for Romano's decision.

But to his surprise, Romano didn't make any excuses and he didn't turn and walk away, either. He actually looked a little confused, unsure of himself. "Spain…" he started, but shook his head didn't finish the sentence. Spain just waited and watched, curious. Eventually Romano let out an exasperated sigh and brushed past Spain, through the door behind him, into his room.

"Lovino? Are you okay?" Spain asked as he followed Romano back into the room he'd just come from.

Romano was pacing back and forth, looking extremely agitated. "No! I'm not okay!"

"Why? What's wrong?"

Romano stopped walking. "I don't know." He looked up at Spain and continued, almost shouting. "I don't know what the hell is wrong with me! I feel like I'm going insane! And it's… it's you! I want to be with you, and then I hate you, and you're just….urgh!" He buried his face in his hands and looked so lost and desperate, Spain's chest ached at the sight. What is he trying to say? Is he trying to tell me that he doesn't know how he feels, or…?

"It's okay," he said quietly, approaching the Italian and slipping his arms around his shoulders. Romano made a half-hearted attempt to shrug him off, but Spain held on. Romano sighed and then asked,

"Why are you so fucking nice to an asshole like me? Why won't you leave me alone like everybody else does?"

"Because you're my friend, I care about you, I…" Spain bit his lip before he added 'I love you'. He thought it might be just a little too awkward to remind Romano about that whole thing, especially since he felt like he was making progress towards understanding the real Romano a little better. But having him here in his arms without truly having him was almost unbearable.

"I don't know what to do anymore," Romano whispered. "I don't know why I'm here. I don't know… anything. And I hate it. I'm tired of being like this. I need…" He wouldn't finish the sentence; or maybe he couldn't.

Spain gulped. This was as close to a confession or a cry for help as he'd ever heard from Romano. What should he do? Would it be okay for him to… well, he didn't want to take advantage of Romano in any way, but he felt as though Romano had come here to see him for a reason. And he thought he knew what that reason was, even if Romano didn't.

So it was time to take a risk. This would be his only chance to find out how Romano really felt.

"Lovino, would it be okay if… if I kissed you?"

…

"Lovino, would it be okay if… if I kissed you?" Spain whispered.

Romano felt as though a dart had shot through his veins at those words. It was hard to describe the tingly, paralyzing feeling in his limbs any other way. He couldn't even answer Spain. A voice in his head was screaming, telling him to say no, to run away and take the easy way out, but he couldn't do it. Spain seemed to take his silence as a yes.

His lips touched Romano's tentatively, waiting for a reaction. Romano, for his part, still didn't either return the kiss or turn away, but allowed Spain to hold him gently, allowed the contact as he debated what he should do. There was a furious battle being raged in his mind, but he was no closer to a solution.

Why was he letting Spain do this? This was Spain; this was the man whose smile made him agitated, who was constantly pushing him out of his comfort zone. He should be hating this. He wanted to hate this. But he didn't. Still, did that make it right to kiss him back? Was this the dangerous, reckless thing he'd suddenly begun craving?

Finally, deciding that he probably couldn't think his best with another man's lips all over his own, he gave up arguing with himself. It was time to just pick one or the other. He decided in the end to just do what instinct, what that reckless, jittery feeling, dictated. He gave in and returned Spain's kiss. Passionately. If he was going to do this, he might as well do it right and be a little aggressive.

He felt Spain eagerly respond, not only with his lips and tongue, but his whole body. His fingers tangled in the hair at the back of Romano's head, his hips shifted closer to Romano's, until they were just barely touching his. That was when Romano realized that this would probably turn into a bit more than just a kiss. Maybe even a lot more.

Jesus, he's really getting into this… he couldn't help but observe as he broke for air and Spain turned his attention to his neck, jaw, and a tiny piece of exposed collarbone. Yeah, he's really getting into this, he thought as Spain forced him to take a step back, until he pressed against the wall behind him. And he almost managed to not have the thought, but so am I.

They were both breathing a little hard by now, and Romano's heart was racing almost painfully. He squeezed his eyes shut as Spain continued to have his way. Romano felt a hand fumbling with the top buttons on his shirt, managing to open it halfway down his torso before slipping a hand in and laying it against his chest. I thought I was going to be the aggressive one…well I can't let him have all the fun.

"Spain," he murmured, cupping the Spaniard's chin and tilting his face up for another kiss on the lips. After another minute or so, Spain broke the contact again, though their noses were still close enough to touch occasionally as he whispered breathlessly,

"Call me Antonio."

Romano blushed and hesitated for a few seconds, enough time for Spain to resume the attack on his neck, before letting go of his pride and deciding to try it. At this point, why not? But it was harder than he thought it would be to form the word. After several attempts, he eventually managed to stammer, "A-Antonio…" To his eternal embarrassment, the name came out sounding more like a moan than anything else. But he could hardly help all the awful, awkward little noises that were now issuing involuntarily from his mouth.

Romano was getting a little more excited by this than he would care to admit. If he was going to be perfectly honest (which he rarely was) he was actually enjoying it. But… he wanted more. A familiar and unmistakable sensation was building down in his groin area. Christ, I'm one horny motherfucker.

He couldn't exactly remember the last time he'd had sex, but it had definitely been too long ago. Would it be wrong to do it with Spain now? They'd already come this far… and by God, he wanted it. Hell, he needed it at this point. But if we're going to do it, it's going to be on my terms, he thought determinedly.

He gripped Spain's upper arms and, step by step, forced him back towards the bed, pushing him down a little roughly when they finally got there. Spain lay panting, watching as Romano undid the last couple buttons on his shirt and pulled it off.

"Lovino…?" he asked as Romano climbed into the bed and positioned himself over his prostrate body.

"We're gonna fucking do this, you bastard," he growled, a little embarrassed, but extremely turned on by the situation.

After a few seconds, Spain smiled at him, a mischievous glint in his eye, as he snaked his arms around Romano's neck and pulled him down for a kiss. Romano obliged, but at the same time he started tugging on Spain's shirt, revealing flawless, tanned skin. It was then, when he only had one arm planted firmly on the bedspread, that Spain made his move.

One second, Romano was busy with Spain's shirt, working to expose his finely toned chest (it's not like he'd never noticed, all those times at the beach or pool, he'd just never had reason to care before) and the next thing he knew he was on his back, arms pinned, and Spain was straddling him.

"What the hell…"

"If we're gonna do it, it's going to be my way," Spain said with a look that struck Romano as both erotic and terrifying. But from the position Romano was in, mostly terrifying.

Aw, shit… what did I get myself into…

...

Spain opened his eyes to look at the man whose torso he encircled in his arms. Romano was sitting up almost upright, leaning against the headboard with a thoughtful, faraway expression on his face. He wasn't looking at Spain, didn't even seem to notice that he was being watched. Spain liked this opportunity. This is the real Lovino, he thought. The one that's not acting for anyone. This is the one I love.

After studying him for another minute or two, Spain broke the silence. "Lovino, te quiero," he murmured, pressing his lips against the closest available piece of Romano's skin.

Romano, awakened from his reverie, considered Spain for a moment before he rolled his eyes. "Just 'cause we had sex doesn't mean you have to keep saying things like that," he said. Spain lost his grip on Romano as he swung his legs off the bed and slowly stood up. He looked a little uncomfortable as he straightened, and the first couple steps he took looked awkward.

He's not used to being on the bottom, Spain thought, resisting the urge to giggle as Romano struggled to walk normally. Instead, he cleared his throat and asked aloud, "What are you doing?"

"Getting dressed, what the hell does it look like I'm doing?" Romano growled in response as he gingerly stepped into his shorts.

"Are you going somewhere?"

"My room." He picked up a shirt before deciding it was Spain's and tossing it on the bed.

"You're not going to stay?" Spain asked, a bit of his disappointment working its way into his voice.

"No."

"Oh…" Spain watched as Romano finished putting his shirt back on before asking tentatively, "Would it be okay if I stayed here for a couple of days?"

"Do whatever you want," Romano answered with a careless shrug. Spain's face broke out into a true grin. That's a yes.

"And… would it be okay if I visited your room tomorrow night?" he asked with a little more confidence and just the right amount of suggestion.

Romano turned his face away from Spain before muttering, "Like I said, do whatever the hell you want." But Spain had seen the blush spreading across his cheeks and his smile widened as Romano turned abruptly and exited the room without another word.

I think it's just going to be that kind of relationship, but I know what he means, Spain thought amusedly as he lay back in bed. Even though he knew Romano would never be affectionate, he was all right with it. He was in love, and he was absolutely happy.

…

Romano walked back to his room as quickly as he could in his state, as though he could escape what had just happened if he only ran away fast enough. I can't fucking believe I just… God… and with Antonio! He paused at that thought and quickly tried to revise it. Spain! I meant Spain! Ugh, he's even affecting my mind now…

He shook his head, and continued down the hall, but he made his way at a slightly slower pace, taking more time to consider his thoughts. I can't believe it… but…

But… what? But he'd enjoyed it. But he'd found it hard to leave. But he was already thinking about tomorrow night with his heart pounding.

This doesn't mean that I… like him, does it?

It was a scary thought. Romano didn't think he'd ever liked someone before. He'd been trying to put it off as merely a physical attraction since the thought had originally occurred to him, but he'd had sex with plenty of people before, and he'd never felt like this. Still, just considering it made him nervous and anxious again. Though, somehow, it was a different sort of feeling than it had been before. Yes, something was definitely different. It was like… he felt fuller. Like some deep craving had finally been satisfied.

So yes, he was scared about these new feelings, this new situation. Terrified, even. But deeper than that, he welcomed this… this sensation, this unnamed feeling (it couldn't possibly be love, that would be ridiculous, but it was something all right). He just felt as though he'd been waiting for this for a long time; his entire life, even; and he was finally content.

Yes, that's what it was. He couldn't quite place it exactly, but because of Spain, for the first time in a long time, he was actually… happy.

I want to thank everyone who has read this little story of mine, and a HUGE thanks to everyone who left a review, favorited it, or added it to their alert list. You guys have been… amazingly supportive, even when I didn't necessarily deserve it. xD THANK YOU, SO MUCH! I've had so much fun writing this, I hope you had fun reading it!

(And I pray nobody was disappointed at all with the ending. )

te quiero – I love you (Spanish)

And if anyone noticed that I used Shakespeare references for two separate chapter titles and wondered why that was, well...there wasn't any particular reason. xD