A/N: So after thinking about it and writing a few different scenes out, I decided to go through with the Spamano omake (sorry for those who didn't want it) since it just worked out better that way with what I want to do with Changement. So, USUK is over for now, but there will definitely be fluffy adorableness in the next one if you continue, so don't be sad :) For those who like Spamano, here you go. Hope you enjoy.



Spain was quite positive that he'd never in his life wanted to get home as quickly as he did right now. Actually, he was starting to consider just giving up the whole idea of making it all the way home and just find some hotel somewhere. Or—to take even less time—they could just pull over to the side of the road right now.

"Fucking French bastard. Fucking potato bastard. Stupid Feli. I can't believe I even agreed to this." Romano was currently staring out of the window, chin resting in his palm as he watched the street lights pass by. Spain was finding it hard to keep his eyes on the road… "They're all idiots. I'm surrounded by complete idiots. Including you." Now he looked over and Spain hurriedly pretended to have been focused on the road this entire time.

Romano continued to complain, apparently not caring that Spain wasn't answering. "And I'm dressed like a girl, damn it. What was the point in dressing me like a girl? I swear, I sometimes wonder about my brother."

So his brother was the one who'd dressed him like that? Spain made a mental note to thank him later.

"Are you even listening to me, asshole?" Spain jumped slightly at the sudden exclamation, although thankfully not enough to send the car off its course.

"Of course, Lovi."

Romano glared at him suspiciously, but then continued on his rant, Spain now completely ignoring the actual words in favour of just watching him. How he kept nervously playing with his skirt and how he'd sometimes play with his now-longer hair…

Yes, there was no way that he was making it home. A hotel it was, then, since he was pretty sure that Romano would murder him if he attempted anything in a car.

Although, really, Romano had to know what he was doing. He wasn't some blushing virgin by any means, so he had to know that every movement he made was driving Spain crazy. Particularly when he kept crossing and uncrossing his legs, making the skirt ride higher and higher…and…

"And your pervert friend kept trying to hit on me, bastard." Romano was still going strong, apparently not even noticing that they'd taken a slight detour until they passed a couple signs that quite plainly read that the town they should be driving toward lay in the opposite direction.

Or he was for a few minutes. After a short amount of time, Spain could tell that he'd noticed—maybe he really was clueless about all of this. He had just had a pretty long, rough day—when he sat up a little straighter and suddenly seemed to be paying more attention to the street signs. Then he turned toward Spain, frowning slightly. "Where do you think you're going, idiot? The hotel's in the opposite direction."

"It's far away, though, Lovi. I'm too tired to drive all the way there. We can just spend the night in some other hotel and then get our stuff tomorrow morning."

For a few minutes, Romano just stared at him. Yes, he was definitely tired. If he hadn't figured out what he meant yet. And then comprehension crossed over his face and he immediately glared at his partner before crossing his legs again and flashing him his best 'don't even think about it or I'll kill you by strangling you with your own entrails'. "Oh no. There is no way."

"But, Lovi~"

"No. Absolutely not. I had to fucking dress up like a girl. I got hit on by France twice. I had to be nice to that potato bastard. And you dropped me! There is no way that I'm going along with anything that you say. Now take us back to our hotel." And he crossed his arms over his chest in a way that quite plainly read that that was final.

Spain sighed, not for the first time wondering why in the world he had to be so madly in love with someone who was practically the definition of the word 'difficult'. Just like France was the definition of the word 'pervert' and Prussia was convinced that he was the definition of the word 'awesome'.

And he was going to be murdered for this later, but at the moment, he didn't really care. "Lovi~ are you sure you don't want to go to one of these hotels?"

"Yes, I'm positive, bastard. How many times do I have to say it?"

Spain hesitated for another moment. He didn't really want to deal with Romano being angry with him later, but then again, it was his own fault for being so attractive. "All right, Lovi." He took the next turn, heading away from the main road onto a more secluded road.

Romano was a little surprised that Spain had given in so easily. He'd been expecting more whining and begging and maybe a couple more kisses. And—probably not, but there was always the possibility, although probably not, since he was still irritated at him—that he might have given in after a while. The way that Spain had been kissing him in the restaurant had given him the idea that Spain was determined.

He self-consciously shifted in his seat, now eyeing the other nation nervously. What the hell was wrong? Did he not want to anymore or something? Although why would he offer, then?

Spain, on the other hand, was too distracted by his own thoughts to notice Romano's nervous looks. This road was secluded, but…Ah, there. A little dirt road leading off into a forested area. Perfect. He carefully turned into it, drawing just out of sight of the road before slowing to a stop.

"Where are we, bas—?" And he hurriedly cut off the question.

Because he absolutely loved Romano's voice, but he could think of better things for those lips to be doing than cursing him out for ignoring his order.

Once his brain managed to catch up to these sudden events, Romano mentally relaxed. He knew that Spain wasn't about to give up that easily. So he wasn't really surprised by the direction things had gone. He'd been waiting for it, really. What he was surprised by was his reaction.

As he had climbed right up onto Spain's lap—which happened to be incredibly uncomfortable with the steering wheel digging into his back—without another thought, tugging the other male's head forward so he could deepen the kiss from a better angle.

Spain was also surprised, rather pleasantly. He immediately slipped his hand over to the seat's lever, pushing it so the seat would recline. Although he did it just a little too fast so they fell back much quicker than he'd anticipated.

It disoriented him more than it did Romano, who just made an irritated noise in the back of his throat and moved so he was lying against his chest, now kissing his throat.

"You do realize you're completely contradicting what you just said," Spain finally remarked, as he slid his fingers along his lover's back. "Not that I'm complaining."

"You're an idiotic bastard."

He'd expected that. Romano wouldn't be Romano if he didn't insult him every few minutes. He just grinned back, fingers twisting the wig's curls in tight coils before he finally tugged it away from his head, the other hand finding where Romano had slicked back his curl. "This must be uncomfortable."

Romano made a rather interesting sound in the back of his throat at that and Spain would have laughed if it weren't for the fact that Romano suddenly decided to retaliate on what was nearest to him the moment. Which would be his throat. Which he bit. Hard.

"Ow!" Spain yelped, pulling his fingers back, leaving the curl free to spring back into its usual place like some sort of being with a mind of its own. Which it might be for all they knew.

Romano flashed him his usual, should-be-patented, annoyed glare. "I've told you not to touch that."

And people said that girls were the masters of the mixed message. They'd apparently never met Romano. "Lovi~ that hurt."

"Good, bastard."

Spain pouted. "Sometimes you can be so uncute."

Romano just glared back in response and then moved their lips back together in another highly contradictory motion.

See, mixed message master. Girls could take lessons from Lovi.

"This would be more comfortable in the backseat," Spain remarked after a few moments of just enjoying the fact that Romano was actually initiating something for once.

"Pervert," he replied, although it seemed to be more out of habit than anything else, as he actually obeyed. Climbing over the headrest and into the backseat. Spain followed after a moment of surprise that he hadn't argued more.

After a few moments of maneuvering around in an attempt to get comfortable in the small space, Spain remarked with a grin, "You make a very pretty girl. Much prettier than any real girl."

"Shut up, bastard."

"Although you were saying earlier that you wanted to get out of that outfit, right?"

Romano flashed him a quick look, a quick 'you're such a damn pervert' look, before he nodded once, his fingers moving to the buttons of his shirt. "Yeah, I guess…This isn't the most comfortable thing to be wearing." And he slowly began to unbutton the first few, drawing the fabric aside in a 'too innocent to actually be innocent' motion. Which was only emphasized as he stared up at the entranced Spain with a definite smirk.

Damn, Lovi was so hot…

Spain was about to react… In what way, he wasn't really sure. Possibly by kissing the daylights out of him…or just by helping those fingers to hurry it up…or he could distract him by pulling on his curl until he started screaming…

Unfortunately, he was stopped in the middle of that train of thought.

By possibly the most annoying sound in the world.

Coming from his back pocket.


"What the fuck is wrong with your fucking boss? Does he have some fucking sensor built into his fucking brain?" Romano hissed in fury after he'd jumped at the startling sound.

Spain was starting to think the same thing, although in a less obscenity-strewn way. How was it possible for someone to have such obnoxious timing? He slowly leaned back, sliding the vibrating phone from his back pocket and then flipping it open after flashing it a glare that, while lacking the practiced ease of Romano's glares, still managed to express utter irritation and hatred. Although he did manage to keep his voice from expressing his frustration. "Hola?"

"España, where are you? I haven't been able to get a hold of you for the past three days! Where in the world have you been?"

"Ah, lo siento." Romano looked as if he was about to kill something. Hopefully not him. "Is it okay if I call you back later, por favor? I was in the middle of something…"

"Fucking give me that fucking phone!"

Spain could hear the horror immediately tinge his boss's voice at the furious voice. "Ah…is that Italia?"

"Uh, sí…"

Spain was pretty sure that he'd never been hung up on so quickly in his life.

Didn't stop Romano from grabbing the phone from him and screaming into it for a few seconds, completely ignoring the fact that nobody was on the other side. Then he moved his arm, pressing on the handle of the door until it opened a few inches. And—before Spain could even figure out he was doing—he'd chucked the phone outside.

"Ah, Lovi!! I need that!!"

"Get a new one, bastard," he responded, slamming the door closed before turning back to Spain and wrapping his arms around his neck. "And from now on, you're keeping it on silent."

Well, that was the last time he was ever getting a call from his boss…


A/N: And there's where we end. So I think Prussia and poor Spain's boss should join a club. The Cockblocking Club. Although Prussia does it on purpose and Spain's boss just has horrible, horrible timing…

And I'll leave what happens next to your imagination ;D

Oh gosh, so thank you all so much for reading this! I am absolutely floored by the amount of views and reviews (400+!!!) and and…AHH!! Words cannot express how incredible I think you all are!! Amazing, wonderful. Hearts and love!!