A/N – This story was written for the Hetalia Kink Meme on livejournal. Reviews are loved, especially concrit! :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. I just like to play with the characters a bit.

Romano's heart was pounding hard. Tonight… tonight was the night.

For the first time in his life, he found that the pasta before him was tasteless. All of his senses seemed to have dulled in the wake of his nervousness. His stomach was doing twist and turns, and his shaking hand held his fork in a death grip.

It had been a few months since he and Spain had become official.

Official.

They were a fucking official couple. A strange pang made itself known in Romano's chest, but he purposely ignored it. He should have seen it coming, really. That's what everyone said. Spain and Romano—they were always going to end up together. From the day they met, Spain had fawned over his little henchman and spoiled him rotten, and Romano had been as disobedient as he could be while still clinging to his boss everywhere he went.

But… for so many years Romano thought that it would never happen. Spain was an oblivious idiot, and Romano was too stubborn to change his ways to give the guy a hint. Somewhere along the line, though, Spain had picked up on the fact that Romano often said and did things that were in complete opposition to what his heart wanted. And then one night they were sitting out among Spain's tomato plants, and Spain plucked a tomato off the vine, handing it to Romano and saying, "Romano, I would give up every tomato in the world for you if that's what it would take."

It was such an awkward and unusually serious thing for Spain to say that Romano wasn't sure how he should react. He may have called Spain a name, and he probably told him that that was the stupidest thing he had ever heard, but the only thing Romano remembered clearly was that his face had caught fire and the flames tore through him to try and stir to life that small ember of hope that had always been stubbornly buried and forced into seclusion in the deepest recesses of his heart.

And then Spain grasped one of Romano's hands and raised it to his lips, kissing it gently before murmuring, "Will you be mine forever, Roma?"

There were a thousand ways he could have responded. Romano's first impulse was to react angrily. He wanted to shove Spain away and yell, "What the fuck, bastard?" He wanted to run to the house, grab his things and leave, and not return until Spain took it all back. Because he was going to anyway. Whether he would change his mind or it was a joke to begin with (and Romano was fairly sure at the time that it was a joke), Spain would take it back.

Only he didn't take it back. And Romano didn't run away.

And now it had been a month since they had become a couple, and they still hadn't… done… it.

Spain had been ready since the very beginning, but Romano hadn't been ready at all. He would rather die than admit it, but he had been fantasizing about sex with Spain ever since he was old enough to have the urge to fuck. He had spent countless nights huddled under the covers, working his hand furiously over his cock, imagining being pinned under Spain's hard body, being the object of Spain's desire—the only one. He could see the sexy smirk spread over that tan face clearly, and could feel the hot tongue making its way all over his body.

But fantasy was one thing and reality was another. What would happen when they had sex for the first time? What if Spain undressed Romano and was disappointed with what he found? What if Romano was no good in bed? He hadn't exactly had much practice. Or any. And then there was Romano's greatest fear, the one that kept him putting Spain off again and again.

What if Romano was only being used as a substitute for his brother?

Romano stared blankly at his barely touched pasta. The cold, hard knot of dread had taken residence in his stomach once again. He couldn't do this. He couldn't do it. He felt like crying. It wasn't fair that he had gotten everything he had ever wanted, and he had never felt worse.

That was when he realized the other side of the table had gotten unusually quiet, and he looked up to see Spain staring at him with gentle concern.

"We don't have to do it tonight, Roma," Spain said with a small, comforting smile. He was so fucking patient it was ridiculous. How long would it be, Romano wondered, until Spain grew tired of waiting and decided to move onto someone else?

It was now or never.

"I think…" he began quietly. "We should, um, now…" He trailed off, too embarrassed to finish, but Spain understood.

"Really?" It almost sounded… hopeful. Could Spain actually be looking forward to this?

Romano finally tore his eyes away from his plate to meet Spain's. "Yeah."

Spain was on his feet in an instant, shoving his chair away and grinning widely. "Alright!" he cried running over to Romano and pulling him out of his chair. Romano was glad Spain was so strong because his entire body was incapable of moving voluntarily at the moment.

Spain paused once more to tilt Romano's head up so that their eyes met, and asked, "Are you absolutely sure?"

And his face was so close, and Romano could feel warm air being exhaled gently against his forehead, and suddenly he really really wanted Spain to kiss him. His eyes locked in on Spain's lips and fluttered half-closed, and it must have been enough of a hint because in the next moment their lips were pushed together. He felt hot from the contact, and after a few moments of exploring Spain's mouth as thoroughly as he could, he remembered he had been asked a question and nodded against Spain in response.

He was ready. He could do this.

Spain pulled back, grinned, then leaned in again to press a lighter kiss to Romano's lips. Then his nose. Then his burning cheeks. Then his forehead. Then he dragged his mouth down to latch onto an earlobe and suck, making Romano squirm, and his groin begin to grow hot.

Spain released the lobe with an embarrassing sound and leaned in to murmur in a low voice that Romano did not find shiver-worthy, "Then let's take this upstairs, shall we?"

His heart nearly burst out of his chest, and Romano found that try as he might, he could not move.

Spain linked their fingers together, and shooting another smile at Romano, he began to lead the two to the bedroom. With every step he took, Romano's heart began to pound harder. His hand was growing hot and sweaty, locked in Spain's firm grip, and he wondered if Spain could feel it. The trip to the bedroom seemed to last an eternity, but as soon as the door was shut behind them with a resounding click, Romano felt like their arrival had come far too soon.

He was pulled roughly against the length of Spain's body, and two strong arms wrapped around him, trapping him and closing him off from the outside world. Spain leaned down and kissed him again, and Romano tentatively angled his head to better fit their lips together. He could feel Spain smile into the kiss, and if time were frozen in that moment, Romano could forever live happily. Not that he'd admit it.

Romano could feel the words being formed against his mouth as he heard Spain say them.

"I love you, Roma."

A tearing sensation made itself known in Romano's chest, and his eyes burned. He took a ragged breath and fought the feeling off.

Then Spain's hands were moving. They rubbed up and down Romano's arms, and then spread across his back, gripping the muscles there before sliding downwards. And downwards.

Romano's entire body burned as Spain firmly grasped his ass and kneaded it. He had two large handfuls and wouldn't stop squeezing. Then the hands moved upwards, and the next thing Romano knew, they were sliding down against bare skin, and holy fuck. Spain had his bare ass in hand, and he wouldn't stop pulling the cheeks apart and then pushing them back together in a circular motion, and suddenly Romano had a burning desire for something to touch in between them. His hips began to move involuntarily, in and away from Spain's hands, and he could feel his cock begin to stand to attention.

"I've always thought you had the cutest little bottom, Roma," Spain said with a chuckle as he gave the cheeks a particularly hard squeeze before slipping his hands back out from Romano's pants. Romano let out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding and discovered he had nothing to respond with. How long was always? Was it as long as Romano had been dreaming of Spain finding parts like that appealing? He wished Spain would put his hands back where they were. He wanted to be touched. If Spain wasn't touching him, how was Romano to know if he still wanted to do this?

Spain reached up to tug at Romano's collar and gave him a playful smirk. "I think it's time this comes off," he said.

Romano paused. Ok. Taking a shirt off was no big deal. Spain had seen him without a shirt plenty of times. But what about when he wanted Romano to take off… No. No thinking about that yet.

But damn it, it was beginning to feel as if Spain were entirely in control of this situation, and even though he pretty much was, Romano had a reputation to upkeep of being difficult.

"No," he said with a glare. Spain blinked, looking momentarily confused, but then he took on a look of amusement.

"No?" Spain asked with a smile and another tug to the collar.

"No," Romano repeated with intended finality.

"And why not?" Spain asked in a sing-song voice. His fingers released the collar and began to run along the neckline of Romano's shirt.

"Cause you can't tell me what to do, dammit!" Romano snapped, and then Spain actually had the gall to laugh and rub their noses together.

"Aaaw," he cooed. "I was wondering when my fiery little Roma was going to snap out of his daze and make things difficult for me."

Romano shouldn't have felt hot from those words, but he did. There was something about Spain reacting to his disobedience with perfect calm, even amusement, that made Romano a little weak. He could get anyone to yell at him with his nasty comments and stubborn nature. It was only too easy. But with Spain… he could never get Spain riled up. Spain was always in control.

Always in control. Fuck.

Romano glared harder, trying to appear as if his insides weren't fluttering. "I wasn't in a daze, you egotistical bastard," he said defensively. "Like hell could you do that to me."

"Ah, but I think I could," Spain said with a glint in his eye. He dragged his fingers down Romano's chest and began rubbing his nipples through the soft cotton of his shirt. Romano blushed, and his nipples hardened enthusiastically from the contact. Spain began pinching the left one as he ran his finger in circles about the right one. "Do you like this, Roma?" Spain asked, smug, as if he already knew the answer.

"No," Romano spat. But he could feel his half-hard cock hardening further against the fabric of his pants, and he hoped Spain didn't notice. Despite what they were doing, there was still something so humiliating about the thought of Spain seeing him aroused. He fought desperately against the urge to move his hips and tried to press his thighs together to relieve some of the pressure that was steadily building between his legs.

Spain chuckled and gave each of Romano's nipples a semi-painful twist that caused Romano to give an embarrassing cry. He gritted his teeth together and looked down, unable to meet Spain's eyes after that little noise.

Spain was hard.

Fire tore through every part of Romano's body as he stared uncomprehendingly at the prominent bulge in the front of Spain's black slacks. He felt hotter than he had ever felt before. Spain's cock. Spain's cock was hard and right there and Romano had been the one to make it that way. And it was Spain's fucking cock, and Romano needed it. He needed it more than he had needed anything else in his entire life. He needed to see it, he needed to touch it. He wanted it so badly, it hurt. His own cock was fully awake now, and straining to reach Spain's. He didn't even notice how tightly he was gripping onto Spain's arms, or how his hips were giving small jerks as he fought the temptation to grind himself hard into the other.

Spain laid his hand over Romano's and then gently pulled it away from its vice grip on his arm. He guided it downwards until he placed it over his erection and then glanced up to see his Roma's reaction.

Romano had frozen, and his face was redder than Spain had ever seen it.

"You look—" Spain began.

"Shut up," Romano said between gritted teeth. He didn't know what to do. He was touching it. Touching Spain's cock. Oh fuck, this was so unreal and so incredibly hot.

Spain smiled and began to move Romano's hand up and down the length of the bulge. Romano's lips parted slightly, and he trembled, feeling unbelievably turned on.

"Mm," Spain hummed, leaning forward. "My sexy little Roma. Look. Look at what you do to me."

Spain wasn't sure what exactly he said that did it, but in the next moment Romano had slammed their mouths together and was kissing him desperately, pushed onto the tips of his toes, his arms wrapped tightly around Spain's neck.

"Fuck," Spain heard Romano groan in between kisses. "Fuck." Kiss. "Fuck." Tongue. "FUCK!"

"R-roma?"

"Nnn." Romano continued to move his lips frantically against Spain's, and the boss was beginning to feel a little too hot. He had waited a long long time to get Romano into his bed, and now he had his henchman's lithe little body pressed tightly along the length of his own, and he could feel Romano's cock, hard and heavy, against his thigh. And… and… oh fuck. Romano was actually beginning to humphis leg. He turned his head away from Romano's kisses, swallowed, and then forcibly pushed his henchman away.

That was a mistake. He watched as Romano's face went from confused, to incredibly hurt, to incredibly embarrassed, and finally to his usual angry front.

"What the hell, bastard?" Romano cried. "I thought this was what you wanted!"

"It is," Spain began. But I'll lose it if you go crazy like that.

"Then what the fuck are you pushing me away for!" Romano's voice broke slightly on the last word. "Am I not good enough for you or something?"

"What? No!—"

"Am I not doing it good enough?" Romano was furious, clenching his hands into tight fists at his sides. "It's the fucking first time! Sorry I don't fucking fuck everything that fucking moves like that pervert bastard France does to get so much practice!"

"Romano, please," Spain said, raising his hands in a placating gesture.

"Or are you fucking disappointed it's ME instead of Veneziano?"

The room fell silent.

Spain gaped at Romano as his henchman flushed and took several deep breaths.

"Why would I want to sleep with your brother?" Spain asked, honestly confused. He wrinkled up his nose and tried to picture having Veneziano in his bed. All he could picture was Veneziano dressed in ridiculous pajamas, jumping up and down on the mattress and laughing. It was a cute picture, sure, but…

"Don't act stupid," Romano spat, and he abruptly jerked his head away to glare at the ceiling, his eyes suspiciously bright. "You've always wanted my stupid brother; you've just had to settle for me."

"…You really think that?" Spain asked quietly.

"Yes. No. I don't know," Romano replied in a choked voice. He dragged his arm roughly across his eyes.

Spain wasn't quite sure what to think. Had Romano been thinking about his brother this entire time? That was a little… disappointing. He had rather hoped that his henchman wouldn't be able to focus on anything but Spain and all of the amazing feelings he'd give him.

The room was very quiet, and then all of a sudden Romano turned around… and began to leave.

Spain's mouth dropped open. What the hell did he think he was doing?

"H-hey! Where are you going?" Spain cried after him.

Romano didn't even break his stride as he shouted back, "This was a stupid idea! I should have never agreed to have- to do this with you! I shouldn't have even agreed to be your boyf- your stupid partner! Just leave me alone! I FUCKING HATE YOU!" On the last word Romano broke into a run.

Well, there was really only one thing for that.

Spain tore after him. And damn, it was uncomfortable to run half-hard. Spain had a strange admiration for Romano's mastery of running away from any situation he so pleased.

Romano was running as fast as he could, and he was grateful he had the layout of Spain's house memorized because everything was very blurry at the moment. He wasn't… crying. His eyes just had the tendency to water sometimes. A lot of the time. Mostly when Spain wasn't around or when he was being an idiot.

Never mind, he never had watery eyes over Spain.

Then suddenly he felt the wind knocked out of him and his entire world turned upside down for one disconcerting moment. And the next thing he knew, he was face to face with the last person he wanted to see.

"Romano," Spain began, his chest heaving. "Listen to me."

"FUCK YOU!" Romano punched him in the chest. "I don't want to listen to any damn thing you have to say!" He punched him again in the side. "Just go tell it to fucking Veneziano!"

"Veneziano again?" Spain sounded just the slightest bit irritated, but all Romano could hear was his brother's name falling from Spain's lips. He hated it. He hated it more than potatoes or the potato bastards who ate them. He didn't want Spain to think about Veneziano ever. He didn't want Spain to think about anyone but him damnit. He punched his boss again in the same spot he punched him the first time, just for good measure.

"That hurts, you know," Spain said with a pout.

"That's the fucking point, bastard."

There was quiet for a moment, and then Spain reached up to gently run a thumb underneath Romano's left eye. Romano flushed and glared at Spain's chest. He wasn't crying, damnit.

"You know," Spain began thoughtfully. "There's a reason that I'm here with you and not your brother."

"Because that potato bastard would have kicked your ass," Romano replied.

"Ah, Roma," Spain purred. His hand slid up and tangled in his henchman's hair, brushing against that onecurl that caused Romano's breath to hitch. "I think you know that when I want something, I get it. No exceptions." Fuck, why did no one ever see this side of Spain but Romano?

"S-so," Romano stuttered, trying to ignore the little jolts of pleasure as Spain began to slowly wrap the curl around his finger. "So why i-is—" He gasped as Spain gave the curl a sharp yank. "Ch-chi- Why is it that I-I'm here and n-not Vene-" He shuddered as Spain slowly slipped his finger out of the curl of hair.

"Because I don't want Veneziano," Spain said. "I want you."

Romano got his breathing under control from the attention to his curl and resumed glaring at Spain's chest. He wanted Romano? Yeah right. What the hell had Romano ever done to earn Spain's love? Deliberately disobey his orders? Call him names and try to inflict as much bodily harm on his person as possible? It wasn't like Romano wanted Spain to love him or anything, but if he did, well, he had kind of fucked up his chances. And now his heart was swelling because of a lie, and fuck if he didn't wish he had some way to know for sure whether he was really the one Spain wanted or not.

Romano's voice was barely a whisper, "Prove it."

For a moment nothing happened, and Romano closed his eyes tightly, unable to believe he had just placed himself in the perfect position to have his heart trampled on. And then for the second time that day, he found himself without solid ground beneath his feet.

"What the hell?" Romano burst out on instinct, and when he realized that he was being held bridal-style in Spain's arms his face turned bright red and he struggled to get down. "Let go of me, you bastard! I'm not a fucking girl!"

Spain held fast, and when Romano finally began to realize he wasn't about to have his demands fulfilled, he stopped struggling, crossed his arms, and scowled. Spain smiled and began to speak as he made his way back to the room, acting as if carrying Romano to the room was as easy as carrying a fresh pile of sheets.

"I love you, Roma," He murmured. "More than anything in the world. What will it take to make you see that?"

Romano swallowed hard. What indeed. Romano couldn't think of a single thing Spain could say that would permanently erase the constant doubts plaguing his mind. Tell me that I'm good enough for you. Tell me that you love me more than Veneziano. Tell me that your life would be incomplete without me. Give me some kind of indication that I mean as much to you as you mean to—

They came to a stop in front of the bedroom door, staring at the dark wood for a moment before Spain suddenly kicked it open with a bang.

"Watch it, bastard!" Romano cried as he slipped slightly from Spain's grip.

"I've become inspired!" Spain announced joyfully, taking long strides towards the bed before depositing Romano haphazardly onto the mattress. Romano struggled to untangle himself from the covers before sitting up and glaring at his idiot boss. "I've decided," Spain continued. "That instead of trying to explain with words how I feel, I'm going to both tell you and show you!"

Romano blinked and then suddenly the earlier activities that had been interrupted came back to him in a dizzying rush.

Sex.

Fuck.

Noticing his henchman's expression, Spain gave a sheepish grin. "Um," he began. "You see, I really do want you to see how much I love you, but I also really really really want to get you naked. Ouch!"

Spain rubbed his arm where a furious and flushed Romano had punched him.

"Pervert!" Romano accused, despite the increased beating of his heart in response to Spain's blunt honesty.

"Hey, remember now, you said it was ok," Spain replied, reaching up to work the first shirt button out of its hole.

Romano slapped his hand away. "Yeah, well, that was before you made it obvious you were thinking about Veneziano!"

"AAAAUUUUGGGGHHH!" Spain gave a dramatic cry and threw his hands up into the air. "I wasn't thinking about Veneziano!" Then suddenly he threw himself over Romano, crushing him underneath his weight. Romano choked and struggled to shove the stupid idiot off of him, but Spain refused to budge, wrapping his arms around him and beginning to shower kisses over cheeks both red with embarrassment and blue with lack of air. "I'm not in love with Veneziano!" Spain said firmly. He punctuated each of his words with a kiss. "I. Love. You! You. You. You."

"Get off!"

"Romano Vargas. HE is the one I love!"

"OFF!"

"I love you sooo much!" Spain cried happily, and he began to roll back and forth, Romano trapped along for the ride. Romano pushed and fought for release, but Spain was fucking strong. And to make matters worse, Spain was wearing the most ridiculous, giddy grin.

He was so ridiculous. Spain was so fucking ridiculous.

And Romano, in spite of himself, felt a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He was not supposed to be a smiler, damnit.

Spain finally rolled over top of him again and propped himself up on his arms.

"Do you know how much I love you?" Spain asked, his huge grin growing even wider.

"No," Romano replied, fighting down his own traitorous smile. "Idiot," he added belatedly.

Spain threw out his arms. "This much!" he burst out, and suddenly his hands flew down to attack Romano's sides.

There was something about Romano that only two people in all of existence knew—his brother and Spain. It was a secret he guarded with his life because if anyone found out, his reputation as a tough, angry Italian would forever be ruined.

Romano was ticklish.

He gave a shriek of laughter and tried to roll away, but Spain was straddling him and keeping him firmly in place between his thighs. He was merciless in his attack, his fingers flying everywhere over Romano's body, from his sides to his stomach to underneath his arms. Romano squirmed and tried as hard as he could to keep from laughing, but he was failing miserably, giving loud outbursts of laughter between taking in huge gasps of air.

Spain was getting a little breathless himself. Getting Romano to laugh was addicting, not only because it was such a rarity, but because when Romano was laughing—even just smiling-it was so fucking cute. Romano was cuter than any other person Spain had ever met. Even when he was angry and pouting, Spain found him adorable. But here, now, Spain felt like he was just going to combust from the sheer amount of cute Romano was radiating. Laughing, flushed, squirming, writhing…

Spain swallowed hard, and finally pulled his hands away, telling himself it wouldn't do to cause Romano to have any sort of accident (though Romano was very adamant in his denial that anything of the sort ever happened).

Romano's chest was heaving, and he tried to regain control over his breathing. Once he finally came to his senses, he punched Spain weakly and promptly buried his face into Spain's chest until he could fight the grin off his face.

"I hate you," Romano's voice came out muffled.

"Er, you might," Spain replied weakly. He wasn't quite sure how Romano was going to react to Spain becoming a little… hot and bothered by tickling him.

Romano pulled back and looked up at Spain in confusion, shifting to fit more comfortably in the other's lap. He froze as he felt something hard press against him.

"A-are you—"

"Um. Yes."

Instead of the outburst Spain had been expecting, Romano simply looked at him, cheeks pink and expression somewhat nervous. He leaned forward a bit and then seemed to change his mind, casting his eyes to the side as he bit the inside of his cheek.

Spain smiled softly. "You can kiss me, you know," he murmured, lifting a hand to rest against the back of Romano's head. Spain decided to take the initiative, though, and leaned forward, fitting their lips together.

Romano responded after a moment, and they moved together softly and slowly. Spain always felt like his heart would burst when he was kissing Romano. He really did love him terribly, and he remembered as they kissed that he was supposed to let Romano know just how much.

He pulled back and smiled at Romano. "Do you know one thing I love about you?"

The other blinked, dazed for a second, and then frowned, raising an eyebrow in inquiry.

Spain leaned in to peck him lightly on the lips. "No matter how much I kiss you, it never grows old. And you're the only one that can make my heart feel this way through just a kiss."

Romano looked at him doubtfully and opened his mouth to argue, but Spain cut him off with another kiss. Then another. And another.

This. This was pure bliss. Ever since he had first been given Romano, life had been an adventure for Spain. Easy? No. But Spain had never been happier, and having Romano right here, like this…

Spain pulled back again to show Romano his heart in his smile. Romano gazed back, his expression difficult to read.

"I'm so happy," Spain confided. He reached up to touch the side of Romano's face lightly. "Are you happy, Roma?"

Romano's face suddenly turned bright red as he sputtered, "W-what the hell kind of question is that?"

"I was just wondering if you're as happy as I am. It can be difficult to tell sometimes."

Romano cringed and looked away, not knowing how to respond to such a question. Was he happy? Fuck yeah, happier than he'd ever been in his life. But there was no way in hell he was telling Spain that.

Spain's hand slid downward to capture Romano's chin and turn his face back towards Spain's own. The smile from before was still present, but it lacked the brightness it had a moment ago. In fact, Spain was wearing an expression rather similar to the type Romano wore constantly.

It was… unsure. Unconfident. It was the type of expression someone wore when they were waiting to be let down.

"Are you happy?" Spain asked again. His voice was a little more strained, and Romano wished he didn't have such a fucking hard time being honest.

"W-well," he stuttered in response. "I… I'm…" Romano could feel his face heating up as he stumbled over his words. How did these things come so easily to Spain? "I'm not… um. I'm." He wrung his hands nervously as he looked anywhere but at the man in front of him. "I, I guess, well, I'm… er." He took a deep breath, but the wrong words rushed out on the exhale. "No, not really."

There was a harsh silence for a moment, and then Spain sighed. And Romano clenched his fists so tightly, his palms would probably start bleeding any moment, and this was not what he wanted. Lying was so easy; it was Romano's favorite way to deal with questions he felt uncomfortable answering. But… but the temporary relief was almost always replaced by some heartache later on.

"S-Spain?" Again, the words were out before Romano could stop them.

"Yes?"

"Um. Yeah, that."

There was a pause, and then suddenly Spain's brows knit together into confusion. "That?" He repeated.

"Yeah," Romano stared at his shaking hands. "What you said."

"I-what did I say?"

Romano's face turned pink again. "You-you asked… and then… my answer… um. I-it was what you just said."

Spain was completely lost. "I don't get it."

"Damn it!" Romano smacked him hard in frustration. "You asked if I was ha-happy, and my answer was what you said!"

"I don't know what I said!"

"Well if you're too stupid to remember, then that's just too bad!"

"I'm truly lost here, Roma…"

"Oh well!"

"So you're not going to tell me what I said?"

"No!"

"Not at all?"

"No!"

"Am I really stupid?"

"Yes!"

"Are you happy?"

"Yes!"

Spain grinned as Romano's eyes widened in shock and he smacked his hands over his mouth. His stubbornness was truly a pain sometimes, and his constant lies were frustrating, but Spain knew that it was something the two of them would just have to work on. It would take time for Romano to completely open up. In the meantime, these sudden, unplanned outbursts of honesty would have to be satisfactory. Besides, Romano tried, and even if he thought that Spain didn't notice (because honestly, Spain tended to miss quite a few things), he did. He noticed every botched attempt Romano made at admitting his true feelings, and he could even look back hundreds of years and realize Romano did the same thing as a child.

Fuck, he loved Romano.

Spain sent Romano what he hoped was a somewhat sexy smolder, and murmured, "Come here."

Romano glared—whether more at Spain or himself, Spain couldn't tell—but nonetheless, he leaned in, and Spain met him halfway to steal a kiss.

He ran his hands up Romano's arms and dragged them across his chest until he reached the buttons of his shirt, and he fiddled with one before asking, "May I?"

After a moment, Romano nodded, and Spain smiled and slipped the small glass button out of its hole.

Romano's heart was pounding again. Then this… this was truly it. He felt Spain's hands move further downward to work the second button out of its hole, then one by one, each button was undone to reveal more and more of the smooth, tan skin that lay underneath. Spain continued to kiss Romano the entire time with light brushes of lips that left Romano wanting more.

When the last button was undone, Romano's shirt fell open, and Spain's hands slipped inside to rub against the sides of his stomach, moving steadily upwards until he reached Romano's chest and began to rub Romano's nipples with his thumbs. Romano's breath hitched as he was assaulted with tiny jolts of pleasure. The tiny nubs were rolled between Spain's fingers until they were hard, and then Spain leaned forward to capture the left one between his teeth. Romano hissed as his head jerked upward along with his hips.

Spain smiled and then released the abused nipple to lick apologetically at the burning flesh. Romano squirmed, and secretly wondered if his right one was going to get the same attention. It did. Spain dragged his tongue across Romano's chest and began to give the other nipple tiny flicks with his tongue, and just when Romano was getting used to the tingling pleasure, Spain gave it a sharp nip. Romano cried out, hands flying to grasp the back of Spain's head involuntarily. Fuck if the man didn't know just what to do to turn him on.

Spain laid a kiss in the center of Romano's chest, and then began to create a trail of kisses downwards. His lips ghosted over Romano's stomach until he reached his navel, where Spain sealed the area under his mouth and let his tongue out to dip into the small indent and swirl around the sides. Romano gave a tiny mewl, and his fingers threaded through Spain's hair and held tight. His traitorous mind gave him images of Spain swirling his tongue around in another small opening on his body, and Romano flushed hotly, wondering if he'd ever get Spain to do that for him.

That tongue, oh that tongue. Romano's stomach was quivering from the attention, and he almost groaned in disappointment when Spain slid his tongue out again. His disappointment vanished instantly, though, when he saw that Spain was still following his path downwards. The idiot took the time to flash Romano a cocky grin before placing the lightest of kisses to the tent that had formed in Romano's pants.

Romano couldn't keep his breathing under control anymore, and he almost stopped altogether when Spain opened his mouth to take as much of Romano's covered cock into it as he could.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," Romano muttered, squirming like mad. It was so fucking hot in Spain's mouth, and it was so fucking frustrating to be separated by two layers of fabric. It seemed that Spain had a similar idea because suddenly he was pulling roughly on Romano's pants, almost breaking the zipper in his haste to get it undone. In moments like these, it felt like Spain had been taken over by something foreign, something animalistic. Romano cried out as his legs were suddenly yanked from underneath him, his pants torn from him and thrown to some far corner of the room.

Spain immediately dove back in for the bright red boxers Romano wore, but Romano panicked and shoved him away.

"W-wait, you bastard!" Romano cried, and Spain paused to look at him, inquiring and hungry. Romano shivered and tried to gather his scattered thoughts to form a coherent sentence. "I-I-You can't do that yet!"

"Why not?" Spain asked, as he smirked and ran a hand up the side of Romano's leg.

Romano gasped, and barely stopped the hand that had quickly grasped onto the elastic waistband of his boxers and tugged. "Because!" He yelled back. "B-because then I'd be, um—"

"Naked?" Spain sounded amused. "That's the point, Roma."

Romano flushed. Spain sounded so casual about the whole thing, but it was a huge deal to Romano. Besides… "W-well why I am going to be n-naked, when you're still…" Romano's voice trailed off and he made a small gesture with his hands towards Spain's body. He felt terribly vulnerable at the moment, and it was only made worse by having Spain beside him, fully clothed.

"Oh, I see." Spain grinned. "You want to see Boss's naked body? Why didn't you just say so?"

"I didn't say that!" Romano burst out, mortified.

Spain completely ignored him. "It's only fair, I suppose," he chirped. He sent a sexy grin Romano's way before grasping the edges of his T-shirt and pulling it slowly up over his head and off of his body. Romano tried not to look too impressed by the lean, muscular frame before him. He had seen Spain without a shirt hundreds of times, so there was really nothing special about it now. Except Spain was all golden brown skin and hard angles, and Romano's mouth watered at every dip and curve, and he had to fight the temptation to run his hands along every muscle that he saw Spain flex. He was dying to touch him, to taste him. He just didn't have the confidence to take initiative and do it.

Spain looked pleased by whatever he saw in Romano's expression, and he ran his hands over his belt, raising an eyebrow and asking, "Should this come off, too?"

Romano scowled. Why did he have to ask him? Why couldn't he just do it?

"Is that a yes?" Spain prodded, and then looked thoughtfully at his henchman and grinned. "Would you like to do it for me?"

Romano flushed. Somewhere inside, a traitorous voice was crying, 'Hell yeah!', but for some reason, all he could get out was a bitter, "No." He glared down at the bed sheets. He was getting sick and tired of Spain asking him all of these questions; the answers were just too fucking embarrassing to say out loud. He wanted the bastard to take the lead already. Sometimes Spain was too fucking considerate for his own fucking good.

"Romano," Spain said, suddenly sounding very serious. When Romano looked up, he flushed at the intense look Spain gave him and the command that left no room for argument. "Come here and undo my belt."

Sometimes Romano was convinced that Spain was a fucking mind reader. A disturbing thought, to be sure, since Romano's honest opinions were almost always kept exclusively in his mind. He crawled over to where Spain was and, with shaking hands, set to remove his belt. It took him several tries, during which Romano's face got redder and redder with frustration and embarrassment. His hands were far less steady than they usually were for some reason, and the metal clasp kept slipping from his fingers. It didn't help that he felt the heavy weight of Spain's gaze on him the entire time. He couldn't think! It was too much pressure!

And then… and then there was that bulge in Spain's pants that was mere inches away. Something he had touched earlier. Something he—he wanted to touch again. His face was so hot, Romano thought it might spontaneously combust. It was just too daunting of a prospect. He couldn't predict Spain's reaction, and he didn't want to end up looking stupid.

The belt was finally undone, and Romano gave an inward sigh of relief as he slipped it through the belt loops and let it drop to the floor. He tried to look elsewhere, but his gaze was continually drawn back to that certain aspect of Spain's physique.

"Now the pants!" Spain sang out cheerfully.

Romano's heart pounded, and after allowing Spain a moment to decide to take them off himself, in which he didn't, Romano reached out with even shakier hands than before. With burning cheeks, Romano took the opportunity to brush his hands along Spain's covered cock, hoping the other would take it as an accident and not as a desperate attempt to get a feel, any feel at all, of the other. Luckily, Spain made no comment. The button was too tiny and stubborn, though, and the sound of the zipper echoed too loudly in the quiet room. Romano supposed Spain wanted him to take the pants all the way off, but it was just too embarrassing.

He pulled his hands back and stared intently at the sheets again, and Spain seemed to get the hint and slipped them off with ease. Romano took a quick peak to see that Spain was wearing black boxers with little red hearts all over them, and he intended for it to be only one quick peak, but Spain's hard cock looked ridiculously good tenting those boxers.

Spain sent him a bright grin. "I wore these just for you, Romano!" he said happily.

"And why the hell would you think I'd like those ugly things?" Romano replied with a glare.

"Because they're covered in hearts to represent how much I love you!"

Romano rolled his eyes, even though his heart automatically fluttered the way it did every time Spain told Romano that he loved him. "You're so stupid."

"Would you like to take these off, too?"

So casually asked, and yet the words were powerful enough to stiffen Romano's entire body and upend his stomach. He shook his head no rather vigorously, and Spain gave a soft chuckle and wasted no time in slipping them off and tossing them carelessly aside.

"Holy fuck," Romano choked before he could stop himself. He cringed as Spain brightened immensely, no doubt incredibly flattered. He was a thing of beauty. A Spanish god. Oh fuck, was his naked body something to behold. And Romano did not want to be assaulted by all of these thoughts because these were things that were just not said! But damn, was Spain's cock perfect. And big. Very very big. And Romano began to squirm at the thought of Spain attempting to push it inside of him, and his mouth was watering ever so slightly as he pictured himself sucking Spain off.

"Do you like?" Spain questioned, but the smile on his face was enough to ensure Romano that the bastard already knew the answer.

"Shut up," Romano said weakly, and suddenly he knew what was expected of him next. It was his turn to strip down completely. Shit. Compared to Spain, he was so… so average. He didn't have the muscles, his skin didn't have as nice of a tan, he had freckles in weird places, and his cock was definitely smaller. Plus, he had that stupid blush that turned his face and neck and ears red, and while it was embarrassing enough when he was clothed, it was doubly embarrassing to have it stand out in stark contrast to the skin on the rest of his body. And—wait! When did Spain get so close?

"May I?" Spain murmured into Romano's ear, letting both hands fall onto Romano's hips. Romano swallowed and nodded, and as he felt Spain slip the boxers down and off his body he closed his eyes tight, too afraid that he'd be faced with disappointment. He heard a soft moan, and Romano cracked one eye open to see Spain studying him with an intensity that he'd never applied to anything else before. Romano fidgeted, uneasy. Nobody ever got to see him like this. He didn't want Spain's opinion to mean the world to him, but it kind of did, and right now he would have given anything to see inside Spain's mind.

Spain finally spoke, voice soft. "You are so, so beautiful," he said.

Romano couldn't breathe. Not cute. Not adorable. Beautiful. Fucking beautiful.

Spain thought Romano was beautiful.

He didn't believe him. He couldn't believe him. There was just no way in hell Spain could honestly think that.

"You…" Romano started, breaking the silence. "Idiot," he continued half-heartedly. He pushed at Spain with absolutely no strength. "G-guys aren't supposed to be beautiful."

Spain shrugged, as if to say 'What can you do?' and smiled. "You are."

Placing both hands on Romano's shoulders, Spain pushed him gently onto his back so that he was lying sprawled out before him. It was a very… revealing position, and Romano instantly bent his legs up and pushed them together, trying to hide himself from Spain's view. It was a rather pointless gesture, as Spain had just seen Romano completely naked, and Spain seemed to think so, as well. Smiling, he pushed Romano's legs apart again, and inserted himself between them.

Their new position made Romano's heart race, and he gasped a little louder than necessary when Spain leaned over to place a kiss on his shoulder, causing very critical places to come together and touch. But Spain was a cruel, cruel bastard—Romano always knew this—and he pulled away again almost immediately afterward.

He shook his head in wonder, smile still in place. "Who would have thought I'd be so lucky?" Spain asked. "Look at you." He ran his hands along the legs that were on either side of him. "Everything about you is flawless. I can't even begin to describe you. There are no words! You are absolutely the most beautiful person I've ever met in my entire life."

Romano closed his eyes, a hard lump in his throat. After swallowing a couple of times, he managed to get out, "W-well you're the only one who thinks that, stupid. You're just being blinded by-by-"

"Love? Perhaps." Spain's eyes were shining. "But I don't think I've been blinded. On the contrary, I think my eyes have been opened." Romano shook his head from side to side. Spain couldn't say these things, couldn't make him feel this way! "I think everyone else has been blinded. I wonder why I'm different." Spain took hold of Romano's face and turned it so that he could meet his gaze. "Why am I the one you let in, Romano?"

Romano bit his lip hard.

Because! Because you took me in when nobody else wanted me. And you kept me even when you weren't sure you wanted me either. You gave me second chances. And third chances. And a thousand more that I didn't deserve. You took care of me when I was sick and hurt. You protected me and provided for me. You taught me things. You let go of my mistakes. You let me be angry and defensive, and you tried to understand why I was that way instead of turning me away in frustration. You didn't give up on me. You were always there for me. You made me feel like I was worth something. You loved me.".

Romano was dangerously close to crying, his voice tremulous. "You know why."

"I think I do," Spain agreed softly, deciding not to push Romano too hard. "And maybe I'll get you to say it someday. It takes a lot to break you down, you know."

"Yeah." Romano's voice was barely a whisper. "I know."

Spain grinned, and his hands slid to the inside of Romano's thighs, beginning a creeping pace upwards. Romano flushed, and Spain said, "But you know what? It's completely worth it." Romano watched the hands' slow ascent, and the muscles in his thighs quivered as he waited for them to—

—fuck.

"Hng." Romano moved restlessly as Spain took his cock in hand and began to slide his hand up and down in slow, easy strokes. Fuck, did it feel amazing.

Repositioning himself, Spain leaned over to begin sucking on the inside of Romano's thigh as his hand stroked. He worked his mouth over the area for awhile, making the skin begin to burn and Romano to wonder if he was going to leave a mark. When he pulled back, he found himself quite satisfied with the bright red skin his mouth had left behind. Spain then moved a few inches upward to latch onto another area of smooth skin and began sucking again. And when he was finished with that particular mark, he moved even further upwards.

He wasn't going to…?

No. No he—

"Fuck!" Romano cried, jerking upwards as Spain took his cock into his mouth. "Fuck fuck fuck!"

Spain smirked around his mouthful and sucked as hard as he could. Romano was trying to keep himself under control, but the lower half of his body seemed to have a mind of its own. All his cock knew was that the soft, hot wetness of Spain's mouth was fucking glorious, and it needed moredamnit! Spain slid Romano's cock out of his mouth and took it in hand, moving it around so that he could lick at every inch of it. He was driving Romano insane. Romano panted and tried not to thrust his hips up, but it was a much more difficult task than he would have imagined it to be.

Spain then began to lick diligently at the head, swirling his tongue around it and occasionally bringing it inside his mouth to suck lightly. Romano brought his shaking hands up to rest on Spain's head, as Spain put his other hand to use by beginning to rub and fondle Romano's balls. When Spain squeezed him and dipped his tongue into the slit of his cock, Romano almost lost it.

"N-no, wait! Wait!" Romano cried, feeling a familiar warmth building in his stomach. He gripped Spain's hair and tried to pull him away, but suddenly Spain was sucking hard and fast on his cock, determined to get him off. "D-damn it, Spain! No! Aaah!" The moan escaped unintentionally as Romano threw his head back in response to a particularly talented move from Spain's tongue. "W-wait, damn it! I don't want it this way!" Romano pulled on Spain desperately, while simultaneously his hips sought to bury his cock in as much heat and suction as possible. Luckily, though, Spain released him, and Romano reached down to grip the base of his cock, hoping to fend off his orgasm. "F-fuck. Nnngh. Damn it!"

When he looked up, Spain was wiping a bit of saliva from the corner of his mouth, looking confused.

Romano tried to explain in the least embarrassing way possible.

"I-I don't want to… to… you know… like… like this…." Romano looked for anything that wasn't Spain to focus on. He couldn't believe what he was saying. This was by far the most mortifying thing he had ever had to say in his life. The next words were mumbled so quietly, it was a miracle Spain even heard any of them at all. "I… I want to-to… um… w-with... that is… I want… um. You… I want… for you to be…" Romano couldn't go any further. His face was on fire.

"For me to be what?" There was a silence, and with a sinking heart, Romano realized Spain wasn't going to catch on this time.

Swallowing hard, Romano buried his face in his hands and muttered, "…b-be… inside…."

Another silence, and then suddenly Romano was tackled to the bed.

"The hell?" Romano cried, as their two bodies tangled together. It took only an instant for him to realize, however, that holy fuck, I have a naked Spain all over me! Gasping, Romano immediately wrapped his arms around Spain and began to rub himself against his body, trying to play it off as a struggle to untangle his limbs from the other's.

It didn't seem like Spain intended to separate from him, though. Instead he was kissing all over Romano's neck, and fucking grinding himself down on top of the other. Romano groaned, unable to help himself. That was when he realized Spain was muttering something over and over. It took him a few seconds to catch what he was saying.

"Cute cute cute cute cuuuute!" Spain cried happily into Romano's neck.

"Sh-shut up!"

"You're so fucking cute! So fucking cute!"

"I am not! Shut up!"

"You want me to be inside of you for your first orgasm!"

"OH MY GOD! SHUT UP!" Romano's voice was nearly hysterical as he hid his face behind his hands. He couldn't believe how embarrassing Spain was making this!

"Ah, Roma! You should have said so sooner!" Spain nuzzled him, a huge grin on his face. "You know I want to do whatever makes you happy!"

"If that's true, then you'll shut the fuck up right NOW!"

"Ok, but then you'll have to come up with a way to keep my mouth occupied~"

"Fucking pervert," Romano scowled. Then suddenly he took advantage of not technically being the one to initiate the kiss and slammed his mouth against Spain's.

Spain laughed into the kiss at first, but he soon became serious. Romano was beyond turned on, and even though he had been the one to stop Spain from bringing him to climax, he was still frustrated as hell. The bastard had brought him right to the edge, and now Romano was desperate to relieve himself of even a little of the outrageous amount of energy he had. He kissed as if his life depended on it, wrapping his arms around Spain's neck to keep him trapped there. A rather pointless act, because it wasn't as if Spain was actually contemplating leaving.

Romano felt Spain's had slide between them and whined against his lips when he began to play with Romano's nipples again.

"S-stop that!" Romano snapped. He smacked Spain's hand away and after sending him a quick glare, resumed kissing him. He could feel Spain grinning, though, and in the next moment he felt a hand reach down to grab hold of his ass. A valiant effort was made to keep quiet, but then Spain began kneading it, and Romano couldn't help the tiny 'hnng' that escaped.

Then one of Spain's fingers found its way over to Romano's crack and pushed inside just far enough to run lightly downwards, ghosting over his hole.

"Oh!" Romano clenched his teeth together as tightly as he could, trying to stifle all of these embarrassing sounds that he kept making. His face went hot as Spain brought his finger back upwards and stopped right over Romano's hole to place just the slightest pressure against it.

"Romano," Spain murmured against his ear. "I bet you've never had anything in here, have you?"

Um.

Romano should have just said no, and they both would have moved on. It was a one word answer, so easy to say. Except the question caught Romano by surprise, and his mouth moved wordlessly in response. His mind screamed the truth in all of its mortifying glory and traitorously assaulted Romano with memories of nights alone and heart-pounding self exploration. And fuck, Romano didn't want to tell Spain that!

Suddenly tense, Spain tried to catch Romano's elusive gaze. "Romano?" he questioned. "You haven't, right? I thought… I thought this was your first time." Actually, that had never been stated outright, and both Romano and Spain seemed to realize that at the same time. Romano jumped, startled, as Spain suddenly tightened his grip on him and his eyes sparked with jealousy. "So you've done this before?" The question was asked lightly, but Spain's voice became a little more strained when he inquired, "With who?"

With who? Romano gave Spain a helpless look. How was he supposed to answer this?

"I-I…" he sputtered, his face reddening. "Um…" He looked at Spain with wide eyes, feeling trapped.

Almost instantly Spain's grip loosened and he looked at Romano guiltily. "I'm sorry, Roma," he apologized. "You didn't do anything wrong. I didn't mean to scare you—"

"I wasn't scared!" Romano protested.

"I guess I just thought… I don't know…" Spain pursed his lips together, contemplating how to say what he wanted to without appearing to be one hell of a scary, possessive bastard.

Face hot, Romano tried to reassure Spain. "I-I never did this with anybody."

Spain looked at him with a confused frown. "But you just said you did."

"N-no…" Romano was so embarrassed. "I… You asked if I ever had anything… um… in there…" He quickly ducked his head to hide in Spain's chest. Would you get it already you fucking bastard?

It took longer than it should have—really, Spain was such a dense moron sometimes—but then Romano heard a quiet, "Oh." Then a louder "Ooh." Shit, Romano wished he hadn't got it at all! He did not want to talk about this! "You've…?"

"Shut up."

"I mean, yeah, I guess that makes sense, huh?"

"Shut up!"

"Were you thinking of meee?" Romano could hear the giddy smile in Spain's voice.

"I said shut up, damn it!" Romano pounded a fist against Spain's chest, his face on fire. Yes, idiot. It's always you!

"Aaw, look how hard you're blushing! Does that mean yes?"

"No!"

"How many times have you done it?"

"I-I shut up, shut up shut up! I'm never telling you anything, damn it!" Why was Spain always making everything so fucking embarrassing? Those were very, very private moments, and damn it, Romano didn't want to admit to doing those kinds of things! Especially to the man he was thinking about at the time!

"Would you be willing to do it for me?" Spain purred.

Romano gasped, his heart suddenly beating like mad. Do it for Spain? As in, have Spain watch him? N-no way! No fucking way! He couldn't! Romano trembled, beginning to curl in on himself. He had been nervous the entire night, but this, this! This was way past his comfort zone! Oh fuck. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck—

"Romano? Hey," Spain's voice was suddenly much closer and much gentler than before. "You ok?"

"I can't do it!" Romano burst out in panic, and Spain immediately started laying soft kisses on his cheeks and running his fingers through his hair.

"All right. That's all right. We won't do anything you don't want to; I promise. Maybe someday, but not tonight, ok?"

Heart slowing, Romano managed to get some air back in his lungs before nodding weakly. Fuck, why did he have to react that way? Probably every other person would have been completely calm. They would have agreed, and it would have been sexy, and it would have driven their lover wild… Would it drive Spain wild? Was he disappointed now?

"Hey," Spain whispered into his ear, voice husky. "I kind of wanted to do it myself anyways."

"…Oh." Romano closed his eyes and leaned against Spain. Because somehow, with ten words, Spain had managed to both console him and make him completely weak.

"Stay here a sec, ok?" Spain laid Romano on the sheets with a wink, and crawled across the bed to open the drawer of his nightstand. After rummaging around a moment he pulled out—

Oh god. Romano threw his right arm over his eyes, heart beginning to beat rapidly again. He heard some more shuffling and felt the bed dip down beside him.

"You know what I'm about to do, right?" Spain inquired, and Romano heard the sound of a plastic cap being removed. He tried to speak, but his throat had gone dry, so he just nodded. Spain went on to explain anyway. "I'm going to prepare you—stretch you out with my fingers so it doesn't hurt a lot when I actually put my—"

"Yeah," Romano croaked. "I know." He began to shake. He thought he was ready for this, but…

"I'm going to use this lube so that it goes in even easier. I promise I'll go slow and be as gentle as possible."

"Hn."

"Romano?"

"Hn."

"Roma, baby, look at me."

Romano shook his head. He couldn't look; he couldn't even think. He felt a hand grip his wrist and pry his arm away so that it couldn't shield him from Spain. Cracking open one eye, Romano saw Spain smiling down at him.

"Listen to me, Roma, this is important," Spain said, keeping his voice low as if to ensure the words were heard by their ears only. "This isn't all or nothing. It doesn't matter how far we go tonight, or the next night, or the next. This will still be our first time, and this will still be one of the greatest nights of my life. I want you to know that you have complete control right now."

I've never been in control with you.

"If you want to stop, we stop. No questions asked, no bad feelings. Doesn't matter when you say it. I swear to you right now that I won't force anything on you that you don't want. Understand?"

Romano swallowed hard. "I… I won't need to stop."

Spain frowned, looking troubled. "You don't know that. This… this could be painful."

"I know."

"Romano, I'm serious. The last thing I want to do is hurt you, querido."

"I know. I get it," Romano replied in frustration. Wouldn't his damn heart slow down already?

Spain sighed. "It's just… I know that you have a tendency to do whatever you think I want, even when sometimes it's not what you want."

Romano's heart skipped a beat and he gave a startled laugh, looking at Spain with disbelief. "W-whatever you want? Are you kidding me? I-it's, it's you that always bends over backwards for me."

"Oh, Romano." Romano trembled, pale under Spain's knowing gaze. He had never felt so completely stripped down to the core before, as if all of his heart and its secrets were laid out for Spain to see. How did he always know these things? Sometimes it was almost as if Spain knew Romano's heart better than Romano did.

"I don't—"

"Listen to me. I need you to promise me that you'll tell me to stop if it's too much, ok?"

Romano pouted. "J-just how weak and pathetic do you think I am?"

"I don't think you're weak." Spain shook his head. "But you have to understand that when you love something as much as I love you, it becomes more precious and fragile to you than anything else you've ever come across. So while you may be able to take the pain, I wouldn't be able to let you. It would tear me apart to see something so precious to me become damaged."

Romano wanted to continue arguing, but he couldn't after that. His heart had swelled to bursting at Spain's words, and he found himself giving a quiet, "Ok."

"Ok then," Spain said softly. He lifted the bottle of lube and squeezed some onto his fingers. Positioning himself in front of Romano, Spain tapped his leg and said, "Can you spread them?"

Flushing, Romano did as requested, completely exposing himself. It was a horrible position to be in, especially since Spain didn't immediately set to work on stretching him, but just stared.

"You going to do it or what?" Romano snapped, wishing he could just hide himself under the sheets.

Spain shook out of his daze and sent Romano a comforting smile. "Yes." He moved his fingers to Romano's entrance and pressed lightly against it. Romano gave a small gasp. "Ready?" Spain asked.

"Yes, I'm ready, damn it!" Romano cried. He squeezed his eyes shut.

"Try to relax," Spain murmured, and the next thing Romano knew, one of Spain's fingers was pushing inside of him. It was a familiar sensation, yet completely foreign at the same time. It certainly felt different than using his own fingers to explore. Romano's heart pounded hard. The action in itself wasn't that stimulating, but just the knowledge that a part of Spain was fucking inside of him was enough to draw him short of breath. Then the finger started moving around inside, rubbing against the inner walls, and the movement sent a tingle of pleasure through him.

Romano felt another finger push its way inside, and the two began to move in a scissor-like motion, stretching him gently. He tried to remain calm. So far it hadn't been painful.

He heard Spain give a stilted laugh. "You're so hot in here. And tight. Fuck." Romano finally opened his eyes to see that Spain was rather flushed as he worked. Spain met his gaze and gave him a strained smile. "I want you so bad," he confessed. "You have no idea how hard it is to be controlled with you." Romano was flustered by the compliment. He just didn't see it. "I'm going to add a third, ok?"

He nodded, and Spain put a third finger inside. That was pushing it a bit and was just this side of painful, but still wasn't terrible. Romano swallowed as Spain took his time. He was being very slow and very gentle, just like he promised. Though, Romano inwardly admitted, he had never doubted for a second that Spain would break his promise.

It almost felt strange when Spain finally removed his fingers, like something was missing. Romano fidgeted, wanting to be filled again.

He was instantly distracted, though, by Spain's next action. He had picked up the bottle of lube and squeezed a generous amount into his palm, and then he reached down and began to slick his cock with it. Romano twisted restlessly on the sheets, beyond aroused at the picture Spain made. It almost looked, Romano thought with a blush, like Spain was jerking off. And after a moment passed in which Spain had completely covered his cock but continued to run his hand over it, Romano suspected he was a little.

Feeling unusually bold, Romano teased, "I'm waiting, you know. Or are you just going to do it yourself?"

Spain startled and gave Romano a sheepish, somewhat embarrassed grin. "Sorry. Um, ok." He positioned his cock at Romano's entrance, just touching the sensitive skin there, and Romano couldn't help but squirm again in anticipation. "Are you ready? Tell me if it's too much."

Romano closed his eyes, and after taking a deep breath, nodded. And then Spain was pushing in, and oh fuck, was he so much bigger than his fingers! Romano clenched his teeth together tightly, determined not to make a sound even though it was more painful than he had expected. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Spain stopped after a moment, only partway in, and when he spoke his voice was shaky. "A-are you ok? D-does it… hurt… really badly?"

Romano couldn't keep his voice from sounding strained. "I-I'm fine."

Spain breathed sharply through his nose, having his own problems regarding the unbelievable heat and tightness that was his lover. He had to stay under control, but it was taking all of his willpower to do so. "You don't sound fine."

"I'm f-fine. Just go!" Romano demanded. He had gotten this far. He was going all the way, damn it!

"You need to relax," Spain instructed. "It'll only hurt more if you don't."

Romano's heart was racing and he was beginning to break into a sweat. Relax? Was he fucking serious?

And then suddenly Spain gripped onto his curl, and Romano gave a cry as pleasure wracked his body.

"Fuck!" Spain tugged it mercilessly, and then began to rub it between his fingers. "Oh fuck, oh fuck!" Romano cried, as his hips bucked and forced Spain a little further inside. Spain used the erogenous zone as a method of distraction, beyond grateful that he had discovered its purpose a few years ago. He continued to stroke it and then roll it between his fingers as Romano fought valiantly to keep from making that embarrassing little noise he tended to make when his curl was touched. "Ch… ch…"

"Go on, say it," Spain said, smirking a little.

"N-no… chi… hnng." Romano thrashed from side to side as Spain continued to torture him. Then suddenly he pulled it into his mouth and sucked on it. "Oh fuck! Chigi!" Spain smirked in victory and ran his tongue along the hair. "Ch-chigi!" Romano gasped. "No! Stop!" He was yelling 'stop' as if he meant to say 'more', Spain thought smugly.

His method of distraction was working. He could feel Romano becoming less tense, which was making things easier for both of them. Wanting to give Romano more stimulation, Spain reached between them to grab his cock and stroke it.

"Ah-ah!" Romano cried. Fuck, was Spain good at multi-tasking!

The burning sting from Spain's cock was gradually ebbing away, and it took Romano a moment to realize that in the midst of all the new sensations, Spain had managed to push himself completely inside of him. Spain finally released Romano's curl from his mouth, and focused on stroking his cock slowly and firmly. Romano fought to catch his breath and tried to absorb the fact that they were completely connected. He could feel Spain inside of him—hard and hot, and he moved his hips a bit to experience the sensation of moving around him.

Romano met Spain's gaze and tried to convey wordlessly what he wanted. Understanding seemed to light Spain's eyes, but he didn't want to take any chances.

"Are you ready for me to move now?" Spain asked to make sure.

"Y-yeah."

Spain nodded and went slowly, and Romano cringed as the pain hit him again, but he said nothing. After awhile, it began to go away again, and soon all Romano could focus on was the feeling of Spain moving in and out of him. It was, well, amazing. Looking up, Romano saw that Spain was flushed and seemed to be concentrating on something. Was he holding himself back…?

"H-hey," Romano said, flushing. "Do you, um… do you want to go faster?"

Spain blinked and looked down at him with concern. "Can you take it?" he asked.

Honestly? Romano didn't know. But he wasn't going to say that. "Y-yeah, I can take it."

Spain nodded and suddenly he was moving faster, and a thrill shot through Romano as his body moved with him. In out, in out. Romano felt like he was burning, and oh, it hurt, but fuck this was everything he ever wanted. And Spain looked like he never had before, all—

"AahH!" Romano cried out in shock as electricity suddenly shot through his body. What the fuck?

"Is that the spot?" Spain asked breathlessly, and the next thing Romano knew it happened again, shocks of pleasure soaring through him, straight to his cock.

He cried out and shuddered, very confused, and very, very aroused. "Wha-what?"

Spain pulled back and then slammed into him, killing him with whatever he kept hitting. "You mean to tell me…" Spain asked, pulling back and shoving back in again, "That you've touched yourself in there but never found this spot?"

Romano was searing with heat, but he felt even more flushed hearing Spain acknowledge that he knew he touched himself. He shivered, pleasure wracking his body as Spain continued to send jolts of pleasure up his spine with each hit. He was beginning to get faster and was hitting the spot with every other stroke. Romano shook his head desperately, having no idea what the hell this spot was.

Spain grinned then shoved in, hitting it again. Romano groaned, his hips bucking to keep Spain moving inside of him. "It's called your prostate," Spain explained. "And it's fantastic."

And though Romano tended to disagree with Spain about everything, he had to admit that Spain was right about this. Fuck, it felt good! It felt amazing! Romano wished Spain would hit it each time. He wished Spain would hit it forever, oh fuck.

They were getting even faster, rocking together as one, and Spain's movements were becoming less and less coordinated. Romano was positively burning and could feel drops of sweat fall from Spain's forehead onto him. It felt good. It felt so, so fucking good. Romano couldn't breathe properly, and he could hear his gasps and pants intermingling with Spain's. And with every inward thrust, he gave an 'Ah!' or an 'Oh!', and soon he was spewing out nonsensical phrases comprised mostly of cursing and pleas. He was so fucking loud, it was embarrassing, but he couldn't be assed to care at the moment. Everything was fire and pleasure and a little bit of pain, and that spot, that spot, and then Spain's hand was between them again, tugging harshly on Romano's cock, and Romano could feel the heat building in his lower stomach. He gripped onto Spain desperately, his hands sliding over the sweaty skin of Spain's back, and he thought his heart might pound straight out of his chest.

Spain continued to pump him fast, and when he hit Romano's prostate one more time, it became too much and Romano's orgasm hit him in a rush. He cried out loudly as his body shuddered and he emptied himself onto his and Spain's stomachs. He instantly lost all his strength, and his hands slipped from Spain's back as Spain continued to rock into him. Suddenly his lips were captured in a quick and messy kiss, and then he watched, entranced, as Spain pulled back and his face drew tight as he shuddered and spurts of wetness filled Romano inside with each slowing thrust.

Finally Spain stopped, and he held himself over Romano with shaky arms, gasping for breath. A minute passed in which they both fought to get their breathing under control, and then Spain was pulling slowly out of Romano. Romano was struck with the urge to ask him not to, to stay in there forever, but he quieted himself before he could make himself look stupid.

When their eyes finally met, Spain gave Romano a soppy grin, and Romano wasn't quick enough to hide his own, undoubtedly smitten, smile.

"I love you so much," Spain said, and he leaned over to press their foreheads together.

Romano wanted to say something in return, but he found he couldn't speak. His heart was begging him to tell Spain just how much he loved him too, how amazing what they just did was, but his mouth wouldn't cooperate.

Then Spain moved again and reached over to grab something from off of the nightstand, and the next thing Romano knew, he was being gently cleaned off.

And that was just so… Spain. To love him all the way from beginning to end. To open up his home to him and take care of him and be there for him when nobody else was. To fall for him and stay true to him, and take his time with him, and show patience with him. To treat him like something fragile and precious and beautiful, and pleasure his body as best he knew how, and tend to him even in a moment of complete satiation and exhaustion. He loved him always.

Romano felt a hard lump form in his throat. Then his eyes began to burn and everything became blurry. He tried to swallow several times and keep his eyes open as wide as possible to keep the tears from leaking out, but they were already filled to nearly overflowing.

It was a terribly inopportune time to begin crying—the last thing he wanted to do after his first time was break down into tears, and he especially didn't want Spain to see him in that kind of state. Just thinking Spain's name, though, was enough to set everything off, and suddenly he was giving a loud sob.

"Romano?" Spain's voice sounded shocked. "A-are you crying?"

"N-no!" Romano burst out in response, and his whole body shuddered as he gave another sob and the tears he tried so desperately to hold back overflowed and ran down his cheeks. He wanted to stop, to pull himself together, but he was quickly becoming more and more of a mess. His entire body shook, and his face became soaked with tears, the taste of salt filling his mouth as he gasped.

"What's wrong?" Spain sounded slightly panicked. "Are you hurt? Did I hurt you?"

"No!" Romano yelled, bringing up his hands to scrub at his eyes, chest heaving as another bout of sobs overtook him.

"Then what?" Spain tried to pull Romano's hands away so that he could see his face, but Romano fought to keep them in place, twisting and turning to lose Spain's grasp. "Romano, please! Why are you crying?"

Romano took in a shuddering gasp. "I-I'm n-not crying!" he shouted. His hands slipped over his soaked cheeks, and he could feel his nose beginning to run. "I-I'm not! Jus-just! I-I-I—" He couldn't breathe!

"You're not making any sense. Romano, I don't understand."

"Hnnnn!" Romano turned to bury his face in the pillow, his chest heaving.

"Why are you crying?" Spain asked again, trying to turn Romano over.

"I don't kn-know!" Romano pounded his fist against the mattress and began to rock side to side, choking on his sobs. "I-I just… Wh-why do you… I…" The skin on his face burned from his tears, and he could feel them leaking everywhere, trailing into his nose and mouth and down his neck, and some even wrapping around to wet the inside of his ears. Oh fuck, was he a mess. And he had lost all control over what he was saying. "Y-you… just…" his chest rose and fell rapidly with each syllable. "I-I n-never tho-thought that y-you and m-m-me would ever do thiiis," he gave another loud sob, and had to fight to sound even slightly coherent. "And I'm s-so… you said that you… you… loved m-me! Haahn! A-and I… d-don't know… hnn… what you s-see in m-me…" Spain made a noise, but Romano couldn't stop. "And it h-hurts! It hurts!" He wailed, clutching at his chest. He shook uncontrollably. "And I-I… I've waited… and h-hoped, and I l-love you so much!"

Romano felt himself pulled up into Spain's embrace, and he immediately collapsed onto him, sobbing into his chest and probably covering him with tears and mucus and saliva.

"Sssshh," Spain murmured into his hair, holding him tight. "It's ok, baby. Roma, it's ok."

"No!" Romano cried, clutching at Spain desperately, wanting to get closer to him somehow, become part of him if possible.

"It is," Spain said softly, struggling to get a hand up to pet Romano's hair. "Everything will be fine, I promise. You don't have anything to be crying about." His voice was gentle, if just the slightest bit confused. Romano shook his head and cried open-mouthed against Spain's flushed skin.

He was confused himself. He didn't know why he was crying, he just was. The entire situation was just too emotionally overwhelming.

"Sssh," Spain continued to murmur. "It's ok. I love you, Romano. I love you so much. You don't need to cry." Romano gave a painful sounding inhale as he tried to get air back into his lungs. "You don't need to cry," Spain repeated. "I'm right here, and I've got you, and I love you, and I'll never let you go. Come on, love, it's ok."

Romano took quick gasps of air, trying to stop the crying, and Spain attempted to process what Romano had said to formulate a reply. "I'm so happy we got to do this," he finally said. "It's something I've wanted for a long time. I love you more than anything in the world, Roma. Even if you don't see how I can love you, just know that I do. So very much. I don't know how else to say it anymore, but I can say it over and over until you believe me. I love you. I love you, I love you." Spain kissed the top of Romano's head. "I love you." He grasped Romano's trembling chin and lifted his face from the security of his chest to press their lips together. "I love you."

He loved him so much, and Romano…

Spain gasped as he was struck hard with the realization of what Romano had confessed last.

'I l-love you so much!'

Romano… Romano had actually told him that he loved him? There was silence for a moment as Spain's heart sped out of control and Romano began to quiet down. Spain had always known on some level that Romano loved him, but had he ever heard him say it out loud? He searched his memories frantically, trying to find an instance, but he couldn't. This was… this was…

"You love me, too," Spain whispered in slight disbelief. He felt Romano tense in his arms, but when he met his gaze, Romano didn't look away. He didn't say yes, he didn't nod, he didn't do anything, really, except continue to stare at Spain with flaming cheeks and watery eyes, but that was all Spain needed.

Because he wasn't denying it. And for Romano, that was pretty fucking amazing.

Spain gave Romano a trembling smile, suddenly on the verge of tears himself. "I love you, too," he choked. And for some reason, saying 'I love you, too' was infinitely better than just saying 'I love you'.

Romano buried his face in Spain's chest again, and Spain could only imagine the embarrassment he was trying to fight off.

Minutes ticked by in silence, interrupted only by the occasional hitching in Romano's breath, until all was completely calm, and their hearts were beating in unison.

Finally Romano murmured, "I'm tired."

Spain laughed, the tight knot in his chest unraveling. "I can imagine." He extracted himself from Romano and pushed him gently to the bed, laying down beside him and smiling.

Romano stared at him for a moment before focusing intently on the sheets, cheeks bright red, and holding his arms out.

Heart nearly exploding, Spain accepted the silent request and pulled Romano to him, cuddling him as sleep approached them both.

Romano closed his eyes, feeling terribly safe and happy in Spain's arms, and spoke so softly he could have been mistaken for the rustling of the sheets. "…good night."

Spain let his own eyes drift close and smiled. "Good night," he whispered. " Mi tesoro, mi corazón, mi amor… mi Romano."

The first thing Romano heard when he awoke the next morning was Spain's cheery, "Good morning, beautiful."

He blinked groggily and tried to bring his surroundings into focus. He was tired, irritable, and slightly confused. Like any sane person would be when first waking up. After awhile he remembered where he was, and he remembered the night before, and Spain's words registered in his head. He pushed away the ridiculously sappy feeling overtaking his heart in order to remind himself of his belief that men weren't beautiful, damn it.

He turned to glare at the smiling man lying down beside him. Of course. Spain looked fucking perfect, the bastard. "Why are you so cheerful, damn it?" Romano muttered. "You aren't supposed to be like that when you just wake up."

"Oh, I've been up for awhile," Spain replied.

Romano blinked, and then scowled, and then blushed. "So what, you've just been laying there watching me?" Damn it! Romano knew what people looked like when they were asleep, and it was never flattering.

"Yup!" Spain grinned wider, his eyes sparkling. "You were so cute asleep!"

"Oh, shut up!" Romano sat up in bed, and then gasped as pain shot up his spine. "Oh, fuck!" He cried before he could help it, and Spain was there in an instant, worry clouding his face as he tried to help Romano get into a less painful position.

"Roma? Are you ok?" He asked. "Is the pain really bad? Oh fuck, I was afraid of this. I'm so sorry, Romano. I'm so, so sorry."

Romano sucked in air through gritted teeth and shook his head. "I knew this might happen."

Spain's voice sounded pained. "But I didn't want to hurt you." Romano looked over at him. He looked so… sad.

Determined not to react to whatever pain might come from the action, Romano leaned over and kissed Spain on the lips. He pulled back quickly, his face catching fire, and got up from the bed to run to the bathroom and shower.

He slammed the door behind him with a pounding heart, and after a moment got himself together. On the way to the shower, though, he caught sight of himself in the mirror, and his heart sunk as he groaned in disappointment.

Oh, lovely. He looked like hell. His hair was greasy and sticking to his forehead, his face was flushed and covered in tear tracks, and his eyes were swollen from all of the crying. He pursed his lips together, mortified that Spain had seen him this way in full daylight. Beautiful? Yeah fucking right.

Romano stared at his reflection and wondered what on earth Spain saw when he looked at him.

He had a hard time believing Spain thought he was beautiful.

Then again, Spain hadn't lied to him yet.

Romano got into the shower and began to wash himself, hating that he kept listening to hear if Spain would open the door and join him. He wondered if they'd ever shower together. He took a little more time than necessary washing his nether regions, closing his eyes and imagining Spain running his soapy hands over him instead.

When he came back out, he felt himself blushing and avoiding Spain's gaze, wondering if Spain knew what he had been fantasizing about.

Spain seemed more concern about his earlier pain, though. "I got you some pills," Spain said, shoving them into Romano's right hand as he shoved a glass of water into his left. "And I'm going to make you a hot water bottle. Go lay down." Romano went to do as told, but Spain stopped him to lean in and steal a quick kiss. He grinned. "That was for earlier."

Romano flushed, and headed towards the bed, limping slightly. He could only imagine what Prussia or France would have to say about the limp. Fuck. For the past 24 hours it felt like nobody existed in the world but Romano and Spain. It couldn't last forever, though. Soon they would have to open their world to others again, like stupid potato bastards and French perverts and irritating little brothers who liked to make very embarrassing observations, like Is that Spain's shirt you're smelling, Romano? or You sure take a long time in the shower after your dates with Spain. And now it was going to be Why are you walking so strangely, fratello? Did you hurt yourself with Spain last night?

Romano swallowed the pills and buried his burning face into a pillow. Veneziano had made the shower comment in front of five other people, and Romano didn't know whether to strangle him or combust on the spot. People thought Veneziano was so cute and innocent, but Romano knew the truth. He was pure evil! Veneziano was always teasing his brother, and then he would find some sneaky way to get Romano to forgive him. That bastard.

Romano felt Spain lay down beside him before he lifted his head to meet his gaze. They stared at each other in silence for a moment before Spain suddenly rolled towards him. For a moment Romano was convinced Spain was going to crush him and introduce his back to all new levels of pain, but Spain merely maneuvered himself so that he was straddling Romano's hips. The next thing Romano knew, his lower back was being massaged. His eyelids fluttered as a mixture of pain and pleasure assaulted him, and he wondered how he had ended up with possibly the most thoughtful lover in the world.

"Does this feel good?" Spain asked as his hands worked.

"What do you think?" Romano muttered in the pillow, and he held back a groan as Spain rubbed a muscle just right.

Spain continued to work for a minute before speaking again. "This may sound dumb—"

"You usually do," Romano interrupted, using the pillow to hide his grin.

Spain smiled. "Ok, well, I'll give you that. But, I wanted to thank you for last night."

Are you fucking kidding?

"I mean, it was amazing, Romano. Everything about you is so…" Spain's voice trailed off, and then he picked up again, shifting his hands upwards. "It's just that I know you're hurting today, and I know that you were hurting last night, but you still went through with everything for me, and just… Thank you." Damn it. Only Spain could give Romano the most incredible night of his life and then turn around and thank him for it. If he only knew the things he had done to Romano's heart—"God, I love you!" Spain suddenly burst out. Romano jumped. "Do you think we'll do it again soon?"

Romano rolled his eyes as his face grew hot, thinking of the next time. "Yeah, yeah, we'll do it again," he muttered.

"Am I allowed to tell everyone we've done it?" Spain asked hopefully.

Romano's eyes widened in shock. "What the hell?" he demanded. "What kind of question is that?"

"But I'm so excited! I want to tell the world!"

"You'd better not tell the fucking world!"

"Then how about just a few people?"

Romano scowled. "Whatever, you're going to do it anyway," he snapped. Spain seemed content with that answer, but after a moment, Romano picked nervously at the sheets. "B-but, you're not going into detail right?" He could feel his face turning red. "I-I mean, you're not going to tell anyone that, um… You're not going to tell that I-I…"

"That you what?" Spain asked curiously.

"I mean… there's really no reason to talk about everything that happened.." Romano swallowed hard. "After all, nobody probably wants to know about… about the things we did, or said, or that I… um…" his voice got very quiet as his cheeks flamed. "um… c-cried. R-right?"

Romano was too busy wishing to disappear to notice the playful smile that overtook Spain's face.

"Of course I won't tell everyone that."

Romano slumped forward in relief.

"Just France and Prussia."

"WHAT?" Romano's heart leaped in panic. "You'd better fucking not!" He exploded, and he was about to go on an angry tirade when he realized Spain was laughing. "You bastard!" he cried, trying to twist around so he could punch Spain.

"I'm sorry! I'm—ouch! I'm sorry!" Spain laughed. "Of course I won't tell anyone."

Romano was seething. "You're such a jerk. I can't believe I thought you were thoughtful!"

Spain's voice was unusually bright. "Thoughtful?"

"Shut up. You're not. You're a mean bastard who likes to make fun of me."

"I said I was sorry."

Romano huffed angrily and refused to look at Spain. If France and Prussia ever found out that Romano had cried his first time, they would never let him live it down! He couldn't imagine anything in the world being more mortifying.

"Hey," a voice suddenly murmured in his ear. Romano shivered at the tone. "Let's get one thing straight. What happens in the bedroom, stays in the bedroom. I'm not about to give anybody even a glimpse of what's intended to be only for me. When it comes to you, I don't share."

Romano was silent for a long time, his heart thumping hard. He didn't bother resisting when Spain pulled him up to face him, and he immediately leaned into the kiss he knew was coming.

Spain was smiling when he pulled back. "You're becoming a lot less resistant," he observed.

"Shut up," Romano replied with a blush. "It's your fault for always saying things that… that—"

"That?"

"That… are stupid," Romano finished lamely.

But they both knew what he meant.

"The same goes for you, too, you know," Romano said after awhile.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…" Romano stared at Spain's chest to avoid his eyes. "I don't want to share."

Spain grinned. "You won't have to. My heart has always belonged to you, Romano, and it always will."

Fin.