Disclaimer: If Axis Powers Hetalia were mine, I wouldn't need to write fanfics. If any of these songs were mine, I wouldn't be writing fanfics.

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Minimal fluff 09!

For those easily offended by shotacon (although I really mean for Spain/teen!Romano), please read elsewhere. Otherwise, enjoy my twisted mind! There should be enough context clues to tell POV.


Proibito, prohibido

For about as long as I can remember, Spain's always been there, in his stupid, air headed ways. There was a while, only a blink of an eye, when my brother and I were free, but mostly it's just a blur of Austria and Spain. Everyone tells me when I'm older, I'll finally see how it feels to be an actual nation, but at this rate, I'll never be older. I'm not a kid anymore…!

Well, I guess everyone still thinks I am. I'm sort of in between prepubescent and actual teenager. Spain says that's an adorable stage, because I'm older and I'm not in the annoying teenager stage yet. But it's not enough. I'm still little. I don't know anything. I especially don't know anything about love or stupid things like that. I don't remember when I started wanting Spain to touch me in more ways than one. But I know it's not good, because I'm only a kid and kids aren't supposed to think this way. And Spain's too much of a good idiot to touch his kid. And I can't continue wearing this cross if I feel this way.

Romano was always super cute. I mean, yes, he was a bit of a brat, but brats can be cute too, right? I now understand why France likes raising kids; they're so adorable to watch growing up! I get why all the other nations love their children.

But the way I like Romano is wrong and perverted. I used to love holding him after I came home from a conquest, but now he's bigger, he feels different in my arms. He's not a baby anymore, and that's what makes it dangerous. It can't be right to want him to scream in that one certain way. I've taken care of him for so long, I can't just go off like this. Rape is wrong. Am I pedophile now?

I don't go to bed with him naked anymore. I'm afraid that somehow, if I do, he'll know how I feel and no one can know how I feel. I feel terrible just thinking about it. Dammit, why do things like this happen to me? When he asks if I want to sleep with him tonight, I don't want to say yes, but I don't want to say no either. I can't handle these sort of things on a daily basis.

I'm going to get my own room. It'll be different to sleep alone, but at least it'll be better and I won't stay up all night trying to avoid brushing into him or I might throw myself on him and that will be a horrible, horrible thing…

I thought that maybe if I pretended everything was the same as always, that Romano wasn't growing any older and I wasn't attracted to him in anyway, things would go back to normal. But it's not any better. It's hard to pretend everything is okay when he's lying next to me.

He asked me today if he can get his own room. It must be a phase kids go through. They just want some space. I thought that maybe if I didn't let him, he'd pull an America. And at least I won't have to exercise extreme self control every night.

Spain doesn't make me wear the stupid maid dress anymore. That's good, since I never liked it anyway and it was getting really short. But now I've got to wear Spain's dumb clothes that are way too big for me and there's never any time to get them refitted, even though he hasn't worn them in such a long time. I guess I'm still too small to wear real adult clothes.

He hasn't worn them in the longest time but they still smell like him, like dirt and adventure. Sometimes, when I'm sitting somewhere in the house not doing chores, I smell the cuffs that go past my fingertips and it's like stupid Spain is right there, and it's good he's not because he can't know about my secret shame.

A good indication that a nation is growing is when they can no longer wear the clothes of their youth. Romano is going through the transition between kid and adult and I didn't have time to get clothes for him so I gave him some of my hand-me-downs.

He looks so cute in my clothes! He can't really tie a tight bow yet, so the ribbon is always hanging around his neck. He looks sort of like me when I was younger, but not. I want to retie the bow, but I'm afraid I might rip everything else off him. Do I have a strange fetish with clothes now?

I don't know why I started to like Spain of all people. There are so many people around me I could like. What kind of person falls for someone like that? I'm not allowed to. I'm not supposed to. I'm supposedly the country of amore, but this is dumb. If this is what the country of amore does, then I say no. I'll rebel. I'm old enough to too. I can say no to Spain, I can.

I'm the country of passion, so obviously I'm naturally a romantic. But this is hardly age appropriate. Romano is only a child. Romance at his age is not the good, sweet kind. I can't say I support the bad, dirty kind of romance. No one would like me anymore.

I really hate the way Spain calls my name. It sounds melodic, like something that's pure and good. But I'm not pure and good. Pure and good children don't want their guardians to do dirty things to them.

Anyone can hear the disregard when Romano calls for me. It practically drips from his lips as he says, "Yes, Boss," and the sarcasm is meant to be scathing but it's so cute when it comes from Romano. He can make even the worst pirate (not that I'd ever let him become someone like England) or whore's language sound like a classic.

I don't like how he uses curses like the cheapest woman, but what can I say when I want to do those kinds of things to him?

Sometimes I wonder if Spain tastes as delicious as the tomato I bite into, and my face heats up as I think about it. I bring up that stupid reference on myself.

I'm not too short anymore. I'm growing up. I almost reach Spain's shoulder now (technically, my curl does, but that's the height that counts). He has a habit of running his fingers through my hair and there's never enough tomatoes to hide behind when he does so.

I kind of can't help myself when Romano watches me as he eats. Usually, I find him snacking on tomatoes, although I tell him he'll spoil his dinner if he snacks so near dinner time. I should enforce my rules, but I can't just tell him to stop when he's biting into it and his cheeks have such a gorgeous pink on them. I want to lick the tomato juice from his mouth but I grip the arms of the chair I'm sitting in to avoid acting on my imagination. I would scare him and I don't want Romano to be scared when he's with me.

I don't need to bend over to reach him now. I can just reach over and touch his head, and his hair is so soft, I like to run my hand through it (I can't touch the curl, because he said so). It makes me wonder if he's soft all over too and I have to excuse myself to make dinner.

I don't like it when Prussia comes over and puts his arm around me longer than I want him to because I don't want him to touch me like that. I don't like it when Prussia says I'm so cute, he's got to kiss me or else he'll go nuts, because I don't want to kiss him. He's only gotten this way since I'm older now. I don't like it when Prussia leans forward to kiss me, but I don't push him away, I just turn so he kisses my cheek.

I don't like all the attention Prussia gives me, but Spain's watching, and I want him to know how I want him to treat me, so I let that damn albino do what he wants.

Prussia's one of my best friends, but I don't know about it when he touches Romano. I would trust him with anything and I'd back him up on anything, but when he kisses Romano, I feel like throwing him out of my house. But can I really do that? After all, Romano's older and he can make his own decisions. If that's what he wants, I can't tell him no.

My favorite part of the day is my daily siesta because then I can stop worrying about how I feel and what Spain thinks of me. I can just lie down and let sleep overcome me because then I visit my unconscious world and that is a world that is perfect. I can sleep for hours. The only one who's better at napping than me would either be Feliciano or Greece, supposedly. I haven't been too far from Spain's house to actually meet Greece.

The worst is whenever I wake up and Spain's right there, either sitting next to me or lying next to me. He's always too close and I can feel his breath on my face. Why can't he see what he's doing to me? Dammit!

Romano's so cute when he sleeps. I know I use cute a lot, but it's true! I stumble on him sleeping in such strange places; he never really ends up on a bed. I suppose it's for the best, but sometimes he just shocks me so much, like when I went to the laundry room to look for my coat and Romano was just lying on top of the clean clothes, sleeping away.

It's bad to attack someone when they're sleeping, I know, but I've only kissed Romano once when he was asleep. It was strange with no reaction, but I felt so bad afterwards, I couldn't look him in the eyes for a while. I'm so much older than him! I'm a good, moral nation. I can't go off conquering Romano's vital regions. It leaves me a bad taste in my mouth but I can't stop thinking about it.

One time, Spain walked in when I was in the tub. Instinctively, I sank lower into the suds, which were gratefully thick enough to hide every inch of my body. Spain stood there for a moment before smiling sheepishly, asking if the water was warm enough. I was so embarrassed I told him to go away, dammit, or I'd force-feed him the soap.

I honestly can swear on anything that I didn't know Romano was in the tub. I just walked in and there he was. I caught a glimpse of his shoulders before he practically drowned himself in bubbles. His skin is smooth and unblemished and I don't know if I want to be the one to mark him for the first time. I almost asked stupidly if I could join him. He threatened me before I could.

Spain doesn't want me going too far from the house lately. He says that things are getting troublesome and he doesn't want anything to happen to me. But he lets me see Feliciano from time to time. Feliciano is still really stupid; he tries to keep wearing the dresses he likes so much but Austria's weaning him from the habit so he only occasionally wears dresses Hungary supplies him with. Feliciano used to be really weepy after Holy Roman Empire passed away, but he's looking cheerful recently. That's good; if Holy Roman Empire was still around, I'd go punch his guts out. He was always chasing after my brother.

I can't tell Feliciano about how I feel about Spain. Feliciano would get upset since he gets upset about anything that reminds him of Roman Empire. He asks me what's wrong, but I think he knows because he looks sad already. He tells me I should be happy because things are changing, because Austria said so. What does that mean? How should I be happy? But older brothers don't ask little brothers about those things, so I don't.

France basically knew I liked Romano. When I went to see how he was, after a huge argument with England, he could tell just by looking at me. He asked how far was I and I didn't know what he was talking about. He had to tell me out straight. It was embarrassing.

France says that it's okay that I love Romano, as long as it's a pure sort of love, because it's completely normal to love your children. He says he misses Canada and sometimes when England is drunk, he can go see America's twin. But it's not really a pure sort of love, is it? I can't want all these things and be pure at the same time.

Spain is really busy lately. He still is around, making sure I'm okay, but he's worried for some reason. He won't tell me why. But I don't like it when he comes home covered in blood and I can't tell if it's his own or someone else's. So I do my best to clean him up and hold him when he needs it but all I think about is how strong his hands are and how I shouldn't be thinking those kinds of thoughts because I have to go confess straight away and I don't know if God is willing to forgive me all these times when I keep committing the same sin over and over again.

Things are getting complicated. I'm not conquering as much anymore. It used to be, blood was a good thing. I used to get land and resources to take care of Romano. But now, blood doesn't mean anything. I'm not taking over anything and this is bad because my boss says if I can't take care of myself I should not have kids.

When I come home, Romano doesn't run up to me and beat me up like he used to. He comes up to me with bandages and rags to clean me up. I don't like him seeing me like this. He shouldn't have to know that I'm going through all this. I should be worried about my people and my boss, but sometimes all I can think about is how Romano should never leave my arms, never, and I should be able to hold him like this, tight and commanding, all the time and never have to worry about the future where he might not be here.

Spain doesn't sleep a lot anymore. I can't sleep if Spain's lingering around the house. Sometimes I can walk for the whole night and not find him, but I know he's awake somewhere. Tonight I find him in his study, and he looks troubled as the gas lamp next to him flickers. I don't know how he always knows I'm behind him, but he turns around before I say anything. He tried to make up some excuse to why he wasn't sleeping but he looked so bad I had to go up and hold him.

He told me I can't stay with him for long anymore because he lost some war and he has to give me up. He says he hopes he raised me well and I become a good, strong nation because he helped me. I don't like this way he's talking to me, because Spain isn't supposed to be a stupid, giving-up nation. He's strong, and I tell him so and he's so damn stupid.

And then out of nowhere, as the flickering light casts strange shadows of the bookshelves and piles of paper on the desk, Spain kisses me.

I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have fallen for Romano in the first place. I should have resisted. I can resist immoral feelings like that. But I couldn't help it anymore. Austria said I'd have to give Romano back. At first, I had readied myself to just hand Romano back over and get over everything and recover, but Romano had to find me. I didn't hide very well.

I tried to explain why I wasn't sleeping tonight and he had to be so death-defying cute again and I couldn't help it. I'm a dirty old man. It's a plague that attacks all the older nations. I kissed Romano and I couldn't help myself.

Yes…I've wanted this for so long I couldn't even think. I'm only a child and I don't know anything, but this I know. I've wanted this and I'm not going to lose it because I feel guilty. I kissed back. I kissed back harder so Spain would know everything.

For such a little body, Romano kissed like a maniac. At first, I knew I had to be hallucinating; I hadn't slept for days. But no, this was real. Romano was kissing me back. If I was a dirty old man, he had to be a dirty little boy. There was no mistaking it. For all the perverted, nasty thoughts and things I wanted to do with him, Romano definitely wanted me to do them. So I would.

I was a little nervous at first, I almost couldn't speak. It seemed I would never be old enough until Spain finally took me seriously, but here he was, sliding my shirt off my shoulders, a strange glint in his eyes, and I wanted it all so badly. I wanted to be hurt, because if it was Spain, it was okay. And I saw everything bad I wanted Spain to do me, he wanted to just the same. So I would let him.

Because I wanted to.



Note: So is it shotacon? I can't tell. You decide. I got a little slack from the Jewish holidays, so I decided to empty my perverted little brain out. I think I need mental help if I've gone to happy, legal Hetalia to all-the-countries-are-pedos Hetalia. Review, please, to keep my sanity.