My first Hetalia fanfiction! And it's Spamano fluff! So, yeah, this idea came to me when I was lying in bed and I was in that weird half-asleep state when you sometimes feel like you're falling.

I own nothing, and I will probably right more oneshots like this, so if you like, keep an eye out for them! Please read and review and please be gentle when giving comments. Thanks!

Sunlight poured into the bedroom through a gap in the curtain, causing one beam to spread itself across the bed covers and light up the room. One of the nations in the bed furrowed his brows as the light made the inside of his eyelids turn different colours, and with a small mumble, the person was finally pulled into consciousness.

Spain blinked groggily, cracking his eyes open only a little bit as he didn't want to get blinded by the sunlight. It was just like any other morning. He would wake up, end up falling asleep again, and then when he had gotten his extended rest, he would pull himself out of bed and head downstairs.

However, something was slightly different, as Spain could feel added weight on his bed and the deep breathing of another person showed that he wasn't alone. Spain attempted to open his eyes, only to quickly close them again as the brightness of the room had not dimmed yet. Instead, the Spaniard breathed in deeply to try to clear his senses, and his nose was instantly filled with the aroma of pasta and sweat.

Oh, now he remembered! Spain recalled that he had spent his first night with his little Roma last night, and a happy grin wormed its way onto his face. Ah, last night had been so special… but the Spanish nation suddenly remembered something that may take away a very small part of his happiness.

Romano's sleeping pattern.

Spain had first discovered it when Romano was just a little boy and was coming to live with him for the first time, which is why it had come as quite of a shock. You see, Romano's mood regularly effected the position that he was sleeping in, and when he had just moved in with Spain, he had found the new environment to be odd and uncomfortable. So whenever the older nation would check on Romano in the mornings, he would find the Italian curled up in a tight ball very close to the edge of the bed, almost in danger of falling off. The blankets would also be in a pile on the floor; either Romano had kicked them away, or he would have removed them during the night. However, it didn't seem to have effected Romano in the slightest, because when he had woken up that same morning, he had headbutted Spain for watching him sleep and then demanded breakfast, cursing all the while.

At first, Spain had just thought that it was a one-time-thing because it was Romano's first night there, but it continued happening as the weeks passed by. The Spaniard had found it increasingly weird, but when a few months had gone by and he was just starting to get worried, Romano's odd sleeping habits stopped. Whenever he slept in and Spain had to go and wake him up, instead of being curled up in a ball, he would be lying flat on his back and his arms and legs would be stretched outwards, taking up the whole of the bed. That was when Spain had discovered the pattern; whenever Romano was uncomfortable or sleeping in a new environment, he would sleep in a tight ball. But when he had gotten used to the area or he was incredibly comfortable, he would lay spread-eagled across the sheets, sleeping soundly.

Spain had also found that, whenever Romano was used to the area and was sharing a bed with someone else, he had a tendency to invade the other person's personal space. This secret was uncovered when Spain had heard whimpering in the middle of the night and had found Romano, sleeping in his ball position, and the younger appeared to be having a nightmare. Spain had attempted to wake him up, only to get a headbutt in return.

"Ow! Roma, that hurt!"

"What the hell, tomato bastard?! Were you watching me sleep again?!"

When Spain had gotten over the initial shock of the surprise attack, he had innocently suggested that Romano should come and sleep with him in case another nightmare decided to make its debut. Romano had immediately turned the colour of a certain fruit and outright refused, saying that he was fine on his own. But after a lot of whining and pouting on Spain's part, the Italian had reluctantly agreed, insisting that he was only doing it to "get the tomato bastard to shut the hell up". The next morning, Spain was awoken to find that Romano's head was huddled into his side while the rest of his body lay in a straight line, taking up as much of the bed as it could. And despite the fact that Spain was three inches away from fall onto the floor, he had still found it adorable.

Returning to the present, Spain was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and slowly starting to open them as the sunlight in the room and dimmed a little bit. He cracked them open and blinked hazily, not really wanting to find Romano tucked away in a tight ball, all of the blankets kicked away from him, or possibly find him caught in the middle of a nightmare, which was even worse. The Spaniard opened his eyes wide and alert – and a ginormous grin overtook his entire face.

Romano had subconsciously taken up the entire bed during the night and was now lying in a haphazard slant across the mattress, his arms and legs stretched out so that he resembled the position of a starfish. The content and peaceful look on his face was about as carefree as it could get, and his head was resting on Spain's chest as he lay in the Spaniard's arms (or practically on top of him). The two were now a tangled mess of limbs, sheets, lovers and sleep, and as the older nation tried to balance precariously on the edge of the bed, he found that he liked it.

He liked it very much.

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