Zomg Im so very very happy! I stared this out today and like 2am and I finished it before the dawn of a new day! Wiiii... or veeeeee~ *Grinning like an idiot alla Spain*

This is my very first Hetalia fan fic ever! And i just had to write Spamano for the sake of a friend and my own sanity... and since it was Vaentine's day... well I just had to had to had to...

Sorry if the characters are a bit OOC... its my first time /gigiri/ so I'm forgiven right? RIGHT! ;;A;;

And and... I don't own hetalia and all that stuff you already know but I have to say anywayz xD

Enjoy!

Oh yeah had to split it in two cuz it was too long for just one part...

Something smelled good…

Hazel eyes fluttered open as a few rays of sunshine filtered through the heavy curtains. He blinked a few times and rubbed the sleep off his eyes, just then did he notice he had woken up alone. Well this is strange, He thought, usually that idiot wakes up after me… or he wakes me up with… yeah molesting me with stupid kisses! He frowned as he felt his face get just a tiny bit hot. I'm not blushing, damn it!

The young brunette sniffed the air as the sweet smell from before caught his attention again. "Probably the bastard cooking" He said softly, but just because he had just woken up and his throat was still a bit sleepy. A small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The Italian boy untangled himself from the white sheets that covered his lithe body and got up walking straight to the bathroom.

"That bastard… I wonder why he didn't wake me up?… stupid" After getting rid of unnecessary waste and cleaning up he went back to the room he shared with the stupid tomato bastard he lived with. No, he didn't like sharing a room… or a bed for that matter! But he had no other choice; it was that or a hard, cold floor, and he…well he'd get cold if he slept on the floor…and that stupid tomato lover would complain about back pain whenever he sent him to sleep on the couch…and he didn't like the couch either… especially since that one time he accidentally caught the damn potato bastard number two doing…stuff… there so he rather not sleep on that damn couch…so it was obvious to the world he didn't have any other choice but sleeping on the same bed with A…Spain.

And speaking of Spain….

As the mouthy boy finished dressing -not that he had been half naked by choice!- he suddenly noticed that the house was quiet, no stupid happy song coming out of the stupid damn grinning face of the stupid tomato bastard. More by instinct than by willingness he stopped all movement and strained his ears. Maybe the Spaniard was out in the garden…

Checking his appearance in the gilded mirror by the dresser before walking out the room, Lovino left the second story of his boss's house and followed the sweet scent down to the kitchen. So, the kitchen was Antonioless, but there, in the middle of the small, squared oak table sat a freshly baked pie. The Italian couldn't help his mouth watering just a bit, the smell told him it was cherry, his favorite. His hungry stomach told him to dig in, and he was about to but stopped mid action; something was off. He put the fork he had already grabbed on the table as he remembered what day it was.

You stupid Spanish man… you… damn you! He left to the garden stomping, his face reddened -in anger- and his brain working a few hundred machinations to torture the older man once he found him. To his surprise Antonio wasn't in the garden tending his tomatoes as he had thought, neither was he slacking off by the orange tree as he usually did… the man was nowhere to be found.

Damn you Antonio Fernandez Carriedo! Where the hell are you! Lovino cursed under his breath slightly afraid that if he said anything aloud the Spaniard might hear him wherever he was and bug him about the Italian missing him and actually caring for him.

He walked back inside the house, the living room was spotless, Antonio hadn't been there since last night. The smell of the pie filled his nostrils and his stomach made a loud grumbling sound of protest. He was hungry. Still mad he stormed to the kitchen; he'd had to eat the goddamned pie the stupid missing bastard had baked since he didn't feel like cooking anything and besides he liked cherry anyway plus he could eat it all and leave the other man nothing but crumbs.

Lovino poured himself a glass of milk, he wasn't in the mood for coffee. He picked up his fork from where he'd left it and began eating the pie allowing himself to enjoy it, but only because it was his favorite pie and not because that damn stupid grinning idiot of a boss had made it… for him.

He smiled a little at the last thought. He was 100% sure the green-eyed man had baked this for him. Antonio knew Lovino liked sweets and pastries since he was little, and he also knew cherry was his favorite. His love for the pastry coming only second to his love for pasta, pizza, and tomatoes…

…and Antonio…

He almost choked on his milk at what his sick mind had just conjured. Hell no! No fucking way in Hell! He chugged the remaining of his drink and slammed the glass on the table with only enough restraint to not brake it. Lovino left the kitchen fuming and cursing the world and Spain for messing around with his head. He was about to plunge into the couch he hated so much when he noticed a heart-shaped, red box adorned with yellow and orange ribbons and bow smiling up at him from the center of the coffee table.

What the fuck? That box wasn't there before or was it?. He picked it up reluctantly, there was no note but by the color of the ribbons he new it had been Spain's doing. He immediately let it down as if threatened by fire and turned around expecting to see Antonio launching himself at him grinning like the idiot he was and spewing stupid romantic phrases as he always did. Wrong. No one was there.

"B-bastard?" No response.

Lovino walked back to the kitchen and checked, the pie was still as he'd left it, same with his glass and fork. He looked in the half bathroom under the staircase, empty. He checked the studio, library, basement, the upstairs wing, nothing… no signal that Spain could be there hiding somewhere. Besides, the Spaniard was so stupid if he was hiding in the house Lovino would have found him centuries ago.

He checked the backyard and front yard again just in case and then went back to the living room. The heart-shaped box was still there intact. He picked it up out of mere curiosity and nothing more. Carefully he untied the ribbons, but just because he was planning on tying them again, not because he found the bow and curled ribbon in any way cute or sweet. Why must his stupid hand tremble like that? He was a little cold…yeah that was it. He lifted up the lid and found a dozen or so chocolates inside, each in its own little compartment arranged around the shape of the box, a small squared piece of glossy paper detailing which piece was what flavor and whatnot.

His face flared up as he quickly put the lid back on. Chocolates! Chocolates you darned stupid idiotic excuse of a country! You… you… He lifted the box high above his head ready to throw it as far away as possible. His hand stayed up in the air for a few seconds before slowly coming down, the box still in his grasp. He slid down to the couch and put the box to his lap. Wasting food was bad and he needed something sweet to recover after the energy he was spending on getting mad at the damn tan man who called himself his boss. He opened the lid again and took one the chocolates without paying much attention. He put the chocolate in his mouth and pressed it between his tongue and palate, it broke spilling its content into his mouth; cherry cream, go figure.

He ate a few more pieces of the candy savoring the different flavors: coffee mousse, walnut, dark chocolate mousse & raspberries, orange cream, lemon butter. Ok, that was enough. He didn't want the stupid man to think he actually had enjoyed the gift lest he misinterpret things and start getting sick ideas on that stupid head of his. He turned the TV off, he'd been watching some stupid show… what did Spain called it?… novela thing… yeah one of those soapy operas or whatever. But he hadn't been paying attention anyway, who'd want to see all that snuggling and making out, and the stupid girl bursting to tears when the fucking stupid moron actor proposed to her with a lame ring after "making love" to her. Not like that happened in real life… not like that anyway… it was just garbage… all of it!

He wondered why his stomach felt empty all of a sudden. He'd eaten almost half the box of chocolates and at least a quarter of the pie the bastard had left him so he didn't think he should be hungry and besides his stomach wasn't even complaining like in the morning. He looked up at the clock hanging from the east wall. It was already noon… but then again, he had woken up rather late…

"Ahem…well it is lunch time so I guess I am hungry"

Lovino went back to the kitchen and glanced over at the pie, somehow it didn't seem appealing, he nee… wanted something else. He took the pie and wrapped it with foil paper, he didn't want it going bad after all the effort he… he still wanted to eat some later. Shoving the plate in the fridge he started looking for something else he could eat. There was some left over paella from the night before. No, not appealing. A few slices of sausage pizza… ewww sausage! Hell no! Stupid potato bastard making his way to his pizza! Fresh cheese, eggs, lettuce, onions, left over tomato sauce, potato bastard number two's beers, uncooked French fries… Damn it! There's nothing edible here… damn you stupid Antonio! Cazzo!

He slammed the fridge's door and sank on a chair, he felt tired. Where was the bastard anyway? He'd always had lunch ready for them by now and they would be sitting at the table eating, and Antonio would ask him if he'd like the food and he would reply that it was horrible and he had tasted better, and the other would laugh his typical obnoxious laugh and say how cute his Romanito was to which Lovino would kick him under the table and blush NOT! and curse him for being so stupid…

He sighed, but only because he was tired. No, there was no way he would be missing Antonio's company, no freaking way…not a chance. The Italian got up and dragged himself to the bedroom, maybe he should take a siesta so he could recover his energy, he was tired of wait… of… of… he was just tired. He flopped onto the bed taking his slippers off first, there was no need to undress, it was just a short siesta. He pulled the sheets over his body all the way to his shoulders and drifted off to an uneasy sleep.

"Romano! I'm back wake up you lazy-ass"

He thought he heard Antonio's voice… but Antonio would never call him that, ever. He turned on his back and felt a hand shake him roughly awake.

"I said get up you brat!"

He opened his eyes immediately and came face to face with angry looking emerald eyes.

"Get up! Are you deaf or something? Off my bed!"

Romano blinked twice utterly confused and obeyed without even mustering a whisper of complain. Spain was acting so…so not Spain. His eyes were dark and evil-looking, his brow a frown and his usual sheepish smile replaced by a smug smirk muy alla Prussia.

"Wha-what the hell is wrong with you?" Romano couldn't help but wonder if maybe he was still asleep and was having some sort of out-of-the-world nightmare or something. He never expected the answer he got back much less the way each and every word was said with such poison he never thought Antonio capable of possessing.

"You are what's wrong you dick head, you and your fucking face and your fucking everything. I wish I was blind and didn't have to see that ass-looking face of yours every fucking day. You're a royal pain in my ass and I've put up with your useless self for hundreds of years I'm sick of it! I'm sick of you!"

Romano was dumbfounded. His mind refusing to accept he had heard the Spaniard saying all that. This… this man standing in front of him couldn't possibly be Antonio, he looked an awful lot like him, but there was no way. Antonio was nothing like this cruel man. Antonio was sweet and caring, Antonio was understanding. Antonio never scowled or frowned or smirked like that. This man wasn't Antonio, not his Antonio, not the Antonio he… the Antonio he had fallen in love with. But then who else could it be? Who else had those deep green eyes if not Antonio? Who else called him Romano but Antonio? Could it be?

"But… I… you said…"

"That I loved you? Pfff You are brainless after all… I lied you dipshit. Who could ever love a pebble in their shoe?" The Spanish man said grinning wickedly.

Romano could feel something breaking inside of him. "Then… why…" He didn't even have the strength to usher a proper insult or even finish a phrase. He must be looking like a weak fool.

"Because I wanted to fuck you… that's all I've ever wanted from you. And now that I got what I wanted, needless to say you were so easy, like a fucking whore…. Now I have no need of you, you're as useless as you've always been." A maniac laugh followed suit.

Romano couldn't stand it any longer, he couldn't bear the pain that erupted like a volcano on his chest. He felt his vision blur as hot tears began to pour from his eyes. He rubbed his eyes furiously but the drops wouldn't stop coming.

"That's it whore! Cry like the fucking little bitch you are." He kept laughing.

Romano turned towards the bedroom door and ran, Antonio's sadistic laugh still ringing in his ears. He couldn't understand how or why, but one thing he had clear was that Antonio hated him. The man he loved had lied to him so blatantly and he had been so stupid and had believed him every single time he proclaimed his love to him. The man he'd come to love so much despised him. He couldn't take it, he wouldn't…

He ran out of the Spaniard's house not even minding that he was half naked and had no shoes on. It was pouring outside and the sky was covered in thick, black clouds only alight by the lightning thundering down every few seconds. Lovino sprinted as fast as his legs would carry him without paying attention to where he was heading. Suddenly he couldn't feel the floor under his feet and he fell, fell into a dark abysm. . .

"ANTONIOOOOOO!" He sat bolt upright on the bed. His frame trembling, his respiration extremely agitated and a thin layer of sweat sticking to his face. The room was almost dark, save a few fiery rays of sundown light that filtered their way in through the drapery covering the windows. He looked around the room in desperate need of Spain's presence in it. The room was completely desolate. His heart was beating fast and he could feel tears gathering in his eyes. He swiped the annoying pearls off with the sleeve of his black turtleneck. Damn it! Damn it!

He left the bed and walked out of the room, there was no other sound but the tic-tac from the clocks in the living room and in the kitchen. Antonio wasn't home. Lovino descended the stairs and checked every room again for signs that Antonio had been there but his search yielded the same results as that morning; the Spanish man hadn't been home at all.

When he got back to the living room he glanced at the clock, it was almost dinner time. Spain was supposed to be in the kitchen finishing the food and singing happily to himself while Romano watched him almost dance around the room and cursed at him some when the man would catching smiling at him.

Damn it! Antonio was supposed to have spent that day with him doing whatever amorous things he'd planned for, singing for him, cooking for him, telling him how cute he was and how much he loved him… hugging him the more tightly as Lovino "struggled" to get free and then just maybe let him steal a kiss or two from his lips, so he could curse him as always and call him a damn pervert. And the older man would whisper some nonsense in his ear with that…that deep and sensuous voice of his that he only used when trying to seduce Romano, and Romano would get red like a tomato and feel dizzy and warm… and then maybe… maybe this time he would succumb and let Antonio make love to him for the first time…. Instead Spagna had left him alone all day; utterly and completely alone

More tears came to the Italian's face but he didn't feel like drying them anymore. What if Antonio didn't love him? What if part of what he dreamt was true? What if Antonio had left him? What if….

What if he hates me?…

Lovino brought his knees up to his chest and hugged them hiding his head there and sobbing. What was he going to do if Antonio hated him? He had all the right and reasons to do so. Lovino had never told him he loved him back, never showed him how much he really cared, all he ever did was complain, curse and hit the other. Anyone else would have already told him to fuck off and leave… many had already done so. His grandfather had left taking only Veneziano with him, Roderich gave him off to Spain, even his little brother had left him behind and moved in with his stupid German lover. Nobody had ever loved him, so what would make Antonio any different?

He looked up to see the box of chocolates laying lazily at the edge of the coffee table. What was that supposed to be anyway! What kind of sick, twisted game was Spain playing at! If he didn't love him why keep him near, why all the stupid attentions he showered him with every fucking day! Why!

/"Because I wanted to fuck you… that's all I ever wanted from you…"/

So that's it He said to himself. That's all you wanted Antonio Carriedo… He stood up from the couch and grabbed the box throwing it as hard as he could. It crashed against the wall, the contents of it scattered through the floor.

"Well fuck you damn bastard! Hahahaha in the end you didn't get what you wanted! I'm not your fucking bitch Ha ha ha ha!"

"Lovino?" The Albino had just crossed the foyer when he heard the brunette laughing hysterically. He walked to the living room and found Lovino standing with his back toward him sobbing and laughing uncontrollably.

What the heck? He said to himself, that was so un-awesome. He called Lovino again not wanting to get any closer, not because he was afraid of being hit 'cause he wasn't afraid of anything… but just in case.

Romano heard the familiar voice and froze, no one was supposed to see him like this, much less that Gilbert bastard, he'd probably laugh at him for the rest of his pathetic existence… but he could help it.

"What… what the fuck do you want you fucking potato bastard!" Yelling was the only way the darn German wouldn't notice his crying. Too late though…

"…hey… hey brat don't you know crying isn't cool?" He knew the Italian was moody but he'd never seen him like this, he couldn't help but worry, he wasn't heartless after all… but he was still awesome anyway.

"T-the hell I'm crying a-and what are you d-doing here a-anyway damn it!"

"Well… I… uh… so… umm… where's Tony?" At the mention of the man Lovino stiffened, Gilbert noticed this… in fact, by the red box on the floor and the chocolates laying around, he practically expected that reaction, he was as awesome as that.

"How the fuck should I know! I'm not his babysitter and you're his fucking friend, you should know!" By this time Lovino had turned around to yell at the albino, he needed to let off some steam and the German just happened to have crossed his way.

Gilbert stifled a laugh. So Antonio did keep his end of the bargain ey… oh I am SO awesome. "So he hasn't been here all day then?" He ventured waiting for the Italian's reaction. Lovino gave him the worst look possible. Must the prick really need to remind him? "Oh… I wonder if he forgot"

"You? Is that what you wanted to say bastard? Well what's it to you! Not like you fucking give a damn… not like anybody does… you… you probably already knew! All of you knew! And no one told me anything, you people are sick! You fucking make me sick!"

Of all the things he expected the brunette to do or say, this hadn't crossed his mind all and he was stroked mute. What the hell had happened to his best friend's love? What in the world was he going on about?

"H-hey… calm down brat… I… what are you talking about?" He grabbed Lovino by the shoulders just to have his hands swatted away by the other.

"Don't touch me! don't you fucking dare touch me! You and you're stupid friend are sick! Don't pretend to care! You're lying all of you lie but I'm not as stupid as you think I am… I know what you're planning, I know what you want from me and there's no fucking way I'm just gonna let some sick bastards like you and Antonio make that happen, no fucking way in hell!"

Lovino was about to run out of the place but Gilbert stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Lovino wait! I don't know what the hell happened but…"

"Let go of me! I told you not to touch me! Let go! Let the fuck go!"

He had no choice. Gilbert pressed his fingers against the brunette's neck and Lovino went limp on his arms. Antonio better bow to him and praise his awesomeness for what he was doing for him. It had been his stupid idea anyway… never thought the brat would be this…moody.

The albino couldn't help feeling a bit sorry for the Italian. He still had no idea what had happened or why Lovino had reacted the way he did but he suspected it had something to do with his abandonment issues -Toño had told him about it before- and Spain leaving him alone on such "special" day.

"You better brace your self for the storm coming your way Tony" He snickered as he drove away from the Spaniard's house, his "catch" knocked out in the back seat.

Well, at least the brat had the decency to look good for his date kesesesese… oh yes… I am totally awesome.

Kesesese just move on to part two puhhhhlease! xDDDD