Hello! It is too early to be up. I was very much enjoying my 4 days off but now it's back to school and shitastic fun for me once more~ (Whoop de frickin' doo~)

I was at basketball (showed up 2 hours early on accident, figures) and used the extra time to shoot around a little (like a badass listening to my Beatles music in both ears, Whooo~). And while I did I was thinking about a plot for a Spamano story I wanted to write (I've been reading so many good ones!) and this here is what I came up with~

So I present to you my first Spamano fic. They aren't nations in this one, mind you, but humans and yes…everything that comes with being a human~ (lolwut?)

Tell me what you think of my Lovi, please~?

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia~

Warnings: Lovino Vargas. Must I say anything more?

A Trip To Spain Could Only End In...

Frustration...

XxX

"We have reached our destination in Madrid~ Please be patient as we un-board! Thank you and enjoy your stay~"

Like hell I will. It was hot as shit in this airplane with all of these other less than cheerful travelers. Worse yet, no matter how many times I twisted the fucking sad excuse of an air conditioner, I still felt the same.

The same, fucking consistently miserable, Lovino Vargas.

Seriously, I could win a world record for the longest held grimace and or an award for the grumpiest, "you would hate to have this ass over for dinner" guy next to Oscar the Grouch.

Pissed was like my default mode, next to Kind of Pissed, Really Pissed, and Super fucking "I'm going to beat the fucking shit out of you or cuss you out from a far distance if you happen to be bigger than me dammit!" pissed.

But for right now I was only kind of pissed. I had just had a nice long siesta during the long flight and the people in front of me were actually moving at a relatively bearable pace. And by bearable, I mean that it wasn't so bad that I had to kick the elderly women in front of me in order to make a distraction so I could sneak ahead.

Not that I had ever done that before! It was just a passing thought!

...dammit!

My little brother, Feliciano, said that I had too much anger...and maybe he was right.

...

Wait, no dammit! I can have as much anger as I want and everyone else could just deal with it! Yeah, that sounded better.

It had also been Feliciano who had convinced me to take this trip in the first place.

I had been cooking pasta for the two of us in our college dorm (like a fucking badass, I'd like to mention) when my fagtastic younger brother had skipped into the room, like usual, and leaned up against the counter.

"Veh~ Big Brother, I was thinking about something really neat~" the happy-go-lucky bastard had said.

"You have enough brain cells for that?" I had retorted. A fucking clever retort I may add! Feliciano brushed off my comment, also like usual, and continued.

"Veh~, anyways~ I was thinking that we should both go on a foreign exchange trip this semester~!" I had then looked over to see his same, happy smile, shining as annoyingly bright as always. I had taken a moment to think about it...

...because he was my little brother and I actually stopped to think about his ideas! Not because I actually cared or anything...dammit!

"Oh really?" I had said, still not really considering the idea at all, mind you.

"Veh, yeah~ We just started college and this is the best time of our lives to go visit other places~"

"Like what other places?"

"Veh, well, like Germany maybe..." the bastard had trailed off as I turned on him.

"Fucking Germany? Why in fucking hell would you want to go to that hell hole for?" Feliciano's face fell a bit and I totally didn't think about backing off just a little because I was fucking Lovino Vargas and I didn't have to back off just because the sad look on my brother's face scared the shit out of me!

But I did anyway...

It just wasn't natural dammit!

Anyway, I let him continue (because I was the best brother in the world dammit) and he continued with his same very sexually questionable high-pitched voice, like nothing had happened. The bastard.

"Well because I tried making some German food the other day and-" It was like the "good big brother" shit had been thrown out the window at that moment as I went all ape shit on him.

"You made WHAT? No wonder it smells like fucking death in here!"

"NOOO~ FRATELLO I DIDN'T-! DON'T HIT ME-! AHHHHHH!"

And that's how it all went down.

And I didn't give him an extra helping of the badass pasta I made because I felt sorry after I hit him. That's just what good older brothers do dammit!

Leave me alone!

In the end Feliciano had gotten me to check out the website. The sneaky bastard...how did he always manage to get things to go his way?

Anyway, there was no way I was going to fucking Germany even if Hell itself froze over (Feliciano did his best impression of a kicked puppy but I did not give in- allow him to persuade me this time! Haha!) so I continued to look through the list of possible countries I could spend a semester in and came across one that sounded best out of them all.

Spain. Motherfucking Spain dammit.

It wasn't Germany (which was a perfectly acceptable reason in of itself), it didn't have shitty weather like England, I wouldn't come back with an addiction for fast food like if I were to go to America, it wasn't winter all the time like in Russia, and I (hopefully) wouldn't be molested by love-struck men in stripes with curly mustaches like in France.

So here I am. In a hot as hell airport in Madrid, being poked impatiently in the back by some bastard behind me for not moving when the narrow airplane aisle opened up in front of me. Maybe I was just taking my good sweet time dammit!

I unloaded my over-head baggage and heaved my carry on onto my back, making sure to scratch that itch on my neck with my middle finger as I made my way forward, out of the damned airplane and into the new hell hole that was a Spanish airport.

I could fucking piss rainbows I was so motherfucking happy.

...ew.

After spending a fucking hour in the airport (I swear to God the baggage claim was just as laid back and slow as the fucking people around here!) I was finally on my way to pick up my rental car.

I wheeled my nice, Italian styled suitcase through the shitty aisles of the parking garage until I stood in the parking spot where my car was supposed to be. I had never wished to be back in Italy with my Maserati (Yah, my family had cash) so much as now when I looked upon the piece of shit I was expected to drive for the next couple months.

It was a SEAT Ritmo. The motherfucking twin of the piece of shit original (dare I say) Italian Fiat Strada. I cringed just looking at it. It was big and bulky and it's not like I was a fucking football mom with a shit load of kids that I had to drive around, so why the fuck did I need all that room for?

After seriously thinking about walking everywhere for the next semester, I packed my things into the truck and hesitantly opened the door and sat in the driver's seat.

Mother. Fucker. How was I even supposed to navigate this piece of shit around? I was too used to the low view of my Maserati and I had to adjust the mirrors for fucking five minutes before I was able to pull out of the parking garage.

Fucking good riddance.

And if things weren't already going brilliantly, I was blinded as I tried to exit onto the streets of Madrid. What the hell? Had the Sun decided to come up and give Earth a motherfucking hug all of a sudden? Shit it was bright out!

After blinking my eyes until I could see again, I pushed on the gas and made my way down the street.

...

Was it just me or was I going a hell of a lot faster than everyone else? I glanced to the sides to see my piece of shit passing their pieces of shit one by one. I wasn't even going that fast! Shit, I drove a lot faster back in Italy! And I wasn't even the worst! But then again...I wasn't in Italy but Spain. The most laid back, relaxed nation on the fucking globe. So laid back in fact that I could see a man sitting at the wheel, reclined back quite a bit, reading the fucking newspaper.

What the fuck?

Didn't these Spanish bastards know how to drive? That couldn't possibly be legal! But then again, neither was driving a good 30 mph over this fucking slow as hell speed limit, which I assumed I was doing right now.

...

Well watch out then, Spain, cause motherfucking Lovino Vargas is coming through and at whatever speed limit he feels like! Haha!

Is that a police siren I hear?

...Dammit.

Fucking Spanish policeman doesn't know what the hell he's talking about. Or maybe it was the other way around, considering I couldn't understand half of what the bastard was saying as he leaned against my car window, writing out a ticket in Spanish dammit! I had taken a few classes of Spanish in my schooling but not enough to understand the rapid bullshit that was spewing out of the motherfucker's lips.

After he had left, I slammed the ticket into the cup holder, gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. I just had to get to the damn college. Just to the goddamned college so I could unpack, relax, maybe even call Feliciano to see how his flight to Germany went, you know if I had time or whatever because I'm just a fucking saint like that, and probably take another siesta. Yes, that sounded very good right now.

So I began driving...again (Seriously was the world out to get me or something?) when I drove passed a quaint looking Spanish restaurant. I looked over at it for a good while (I could afford to, it's not like I was going anywhere at 35 mph) and felt my stomach grumble.

And that's when I realized how hungry I was. I hadn't had anything to eat since early that morning when I had had a rushed bowl of pasta before heading out the door. I hadn't grabbed anything at the airport either in my desperate yet failed attempt to leave the hell hole. This left me with a fucking painful ache in my stomach that yearned for food. Spanish food wasn't bad either, not like fucking English food. (Not that it was as good as Italian food. We were badasses when it came to cooking shit dammit.)

I did a probably, no, very illegal U-turn and parked on the street just outside if the restaurant. I got out of my piece of shit car and slammed the door shut, hard. Hell, maybe I could get a new one if the door accidentally fell off! It was worth a shot. Sadly, the piece of shit stayed in perfect fucking shape. Figures.

I walked away as soon as possible, not wanting to be associated with it to any misinformed Spanish passerbys and quickly my way up to the front doors. I could already smell the delicious food through the crack in the door. So, without further hesitation, I entered, led by the aroma of Spanish spices.

I walked up to the friendly looking greeter and suddenly felt a bit nervous. (It was one of those rare occasions.) Was he going to speak rapid bullshit as well? I bit my lip and approached him.

The tanned skinned man wore a genuine smile as he looked down on me (I was not short! He was just a tall Spanish bastard!). It was almost as if he could tell I wasn't from here (I wonder how?) as he spoke up in a language I could understand.

"Table for one, sir?" he asked, smiling again. Dammit, it was like all Spanish peoples' favorite pastime was just fucking smiling.

"Yes." I replied plainly. The man nodded.

"Inside or outside?" I thought about it for a moment, but the decision was easy.

"Outside."

"Very well," he grabbed a menu and began walking back into the restaurant, "Follow me, then~"

So I followed him as he lead me through a shit load of people (Damn this place was busy!) all laughing and chatting with each other in rapid bullshit. We had to dodge a few waiters and waitresses, who were all skillfully carrying dishes of sizzling food, making my mouth water.

We finally reached the outside closed-in patio and the man set me up at a table with an umbrella that had a nice view overlooking the streets of Madrid. Huh. He wasn't such a bad Spanish bastard after all.

"Your waiter will be here in a moment~" he said, handing me a menu.

I nodded and accepted the menu, opening it and looking over the lists upon lists of food items to choose from. Ha! If only Feliciano could see me now! He was probably somewhere it Berlin by now, eating a fucking wurst! Ha!

I smiled to myself (something I did not do often) and coughed quietly. Damn I was thirsty. I hoped that waiter would get here soon dammit. I was dying of thirst here!

And as if right in cue...

"Hola~" I glanced up and felt my jaw hit the table. There before me stood a man that must have been sent down from the High Heavens. A fucking Sex God was what this man was. He was gorgeous (and I thought that is a very manly way, not like a girl with her favorite movie star dammit). He smiled down at me with a bright and genuine flash of white teeth. He had perfectly sun kissed skin that motherfucking glowed in the Spanish sun, like the two were made for each other. And his work uniform fit his body perfectly; the plain black T- shirt hugged every toned muscle in his chest. And his close fit pants did wonders for his-

What. The. Holy. Fuck was I thinking? And about a man no less! I wasn't gay (or so I thought). I liked pretty girls and all that typical Italian stuff...but that fucking-

"Er...sir?" I snapped instantly back into reality, wishing with all my will power that the blush on my face would take a fucking vacation already.

"W-What?" I asked. I was stumbling over my words? Really? What was I? 13?

"I just asked if you would like something to drink~" the Sex God said, smiling again, "Oh! And I'm Antonio and I will be serving you this afternoon~"

Serving me what now? Why did that sound so wrong all of a sudden...?

...

Damn I was such a perverted bastard! Dammit dammit dammit!

I tried taking a deep breath before speaking, "W-water's fine..."

"Water! Alright! Un momento, señor~" and with that, he was off into the restaurant again, just as quickly as he had come.

I watched until the last second before snapping his head back and slapping myself in the face.

What the hell was that? I had to pull myself together and wipe this goddamn blush off my cheeks (Why the fuck was it still there dammit?) before that Sex- no, waiter came back.

A glass of water took only five fucking seconds to prepare. That was how long he had to focus again and figure out something that was pulling impatiently at my thoughts.

What the hell just happened?

Free internet cupcakes for anyone who can guess where I took the term "Sex God" from~ (Not you, Sam, I know you know~ ;3)

Anyway, there you are~ The first chapter!

Damn…I stayed up too late for this and should have gotten more sleep. I have a frickin' basketball game today! D:

Oh, I also took out a lot of swears when looking this over, if you can believe that! ;;

Next chapter will be coming sometime in the next week I hope~

Reviews and stuff is always appreciated! :D