~CHIBIROMANO & PERVERT SPAIN pt.2~
A Hetalia Axis Powers Fanfiction * Presented by FanSlewFantasy 2011
SpainxRomano *
R18*
SHOTA~SEMI-NON CON~ROMANO'S ATITUDE
**
I have a zit on my ass and it fucking hurts. Good day to you all.
also, te author claims no rights to hetalia or its characters.


I hummed to myself as I folded the laundry, breathing in the sweet scent of cooking meat being sold in the evening markets outside. My light footsteps were muffled by the cool stone underfoot, the murmur of crowds making their way own a cobbled road on a warm evening fluttered through the window on a cosy breeze.

It was nice, actually. And very peaceful. Although the volume of laundry seemed about double the normal quantity. I doubted one set of slightly bloody sheets would have bulked it out that much.

Frowning, perplexed, I did a swift count.

Fourteen towels and some face cloths was the weekly towel count. One king sized sheet set, one single sheet set, plus four pillowcases was the average weekly sheets count. Plus the slightly stained king-sized sheet and coverlet…

And another set of crumpled white sheets and three towels at the bottom of the wicker basket. Looking innocent, smelling crisp and clean and freshly laundered.

Well that was odd. The spare sheets were the raw, scratchy ones too. The ones Lovino hated. Now why in the world would he use these instead of that one, ridiculously expensive Egyptian cotton thing he had made me buy for him a few years back?

I sighed and picked the extras up with slightly sore hands, folding them carefully and stacking them in their respective piles on top of the bench in the laundry room.

The towels were promptly popped back in their cupboards, the now empty basket re-stacked where it belonged. I reached over and pulled the window latch, letting the thing clap shut and scooping the sheet piles into my arms. The window secured, the washing board and barrel stashed behind the door, I left the laundry with and armful of clean linen and a mild case of confusion.

"Lovi~" I threw my sheets into my bedroom carelessly as I walked past, heading upstairs to his room. "Are you still awake? I have your new sheets."

"Must you yell?" he snapped as soon as he heard my footsteps approach from down the corridor. "I was trying to sleep."

"Sorry." I knocked on his closed door with the back of my knuckles. Goddamnit, my hands stung! I missed my 'servant' Lovino already… "Can I come in?"

"No, go away."

"I'm coming in anyway."

I opened the door, pushing down on the handle with my wrist, and edged into Lovino's terribly messy room. He was seated in his window seat, not looking at all like he had been trying to go to sleep. A small, slender creature not quite man and not quite child. Whatever he held looked to be a letter. Most likely from his brother. He was eating a tomato.

"What do you want?"

"Well, seeing as you are out of action and I'm yet to get a laundry maid, I did the dirty sheets."

"Hm." He narrowed his eyes at me, corners of his lips turned down. "Good for you."

"I know right? It was hard work, took me ages. I don't know how you did it I really don't. Hey, look, I burned my hands with that whatchamacallit you use."

"Lye."

"Yeah, that."

He sighed and dropped slid off the seat, letting the letter fall to the seat. "You dumb bastard, you aren't supposed to get it all over your hands!" the last of the tomato went into his mouth. He chewed messily and made an impatient grabby gesture, raking me all over with the evil eye. I held out my one hand, for his surveillance.

"Idiot…" his fingers tapped the sore red pad at the base of my thumb reprimanding. "You should have used tongs."

I blinked.

"What?"

"It's dangerous. You got it all over and burned yourself." He dropped my hand and rubbed his eyebrow with the heal of his palm. "Shit Spain…"

"Call me Antonio." I implored. He rolled his eyes.

"Do you want some salve for it?" turning his back on me he wandered over to the small drawer set he had beside his bed and slid the top one open. "I have this cream I made that should help the pain."

"Why Lovino." Grinning, setting the sheets down on the end of his stripped bed, I sidled over. "Are you being nice to me?"

"No!" face suddenly bright red, he ceased rummaging in the drawer to glare at me. "Of course not, bastard! I'm only... What kind of a person would I be if I didn't offer help when I could? Don't smile at me like that!"

Flustered, he returned to rummaging around in his drawers.

"Oh Lovi…" smile growing even wider, I wound my arms around his little shoulders from behind. "you're growing up so fast! First physically, now emotionally… before I know it you'll be a big old man with a beard and attitude problem!"

The glare he gave me could have killed a normal human

"… I mean, an even bigger attitude problem." Releasing his shoulders, I sat myself own on the edge of his bed and flopped backwards, enjoying the softness of his mattress and the smell of Lovino on the sheets.

Oh yeah the sheets.

I propped myself up on my elbows, he sat beside me, unscrewing the lid on a dark green glass jar.

"Give me your fucking hand."

I held out my left hand and regarded him.

"Lovino?"

"What?" he scooped a dab of the jars contents out with a hooked finger, dabbing it on the worst, reddest spots on my skin.

"When I was doing the sheets today I noticed something odd."

"Mmm?" he was rubbing the cream in properly now, it was cooling, pleasant, and smelled like aloe vera.

"Well, there was an extra. Plus some extra towels. The sheets were from your bed and the towels… well. I didn't use them."

Lovino froze, halfway toward gouging another lashing of cream from the pot.

"… What are you implying?" he snapped, face suddenly tomato coloured, eyes slitted furiously.

"I'm not implying anything." I told him, shrugging my shoulders innocently. "I just… wondered. That's all."

He hissed softly and resumed creaming my hands. I let it stand for a moment, just soaking in the silence. Lovino's room smelt pleasant. Like, well, him. Warm and bronzed like brown sugar.

"It's okay you know." I assured him casually. "Having wet dreams. It's perfectly normal at your age."

He spluttered and the jar of cream fell out of his grip, smashing on the hardwood floor.

"What?"

"That's what happened right? You had a sex dream and wet the bed." I withdrew my hand, flexing my fingers. They felt much better now. No-where near as painful. "It happens to everyone. Even to me. Still." I pulled a face, ignoring his own gobsmacked expression. Mouth agape, he reminded me of a fish, gulping and trying to find words in the dry air.

"Excuse me?" he finally found his voice, but when he did it was high pitched and shaky, matching his insanely red cheeks. "Bastard I never said anything about… how could you even… you… you… PERVERT!"

"I'm not being a pervert, I'm telling you how it is."

"Get out of my room!"

"Oh, but my little Lovinito… I would like to talk to you some more…"

"I don't want to talk about it!" he grabbed my arm furiously and yanked me to my feet. Where the strength had come from, I don't know. His new, sinewy muscle was impressive. My god, the boy was getting bigger every day. "Get out of my room."

"But-"

"Out!" with a final shove he ejected me from his room, door slamming shut, latch clicking as he secured the lock. "And don't come back!"

"But Lovino, I needed to tell you… if it happens again, you needn't use those sheets you hate. Wake me up and I will wash yours for you, and while I do it you can take my bed okay?" my linen wasn't as fine as he liked, but it was definitely better than the uncomfortable stiff things he had been using.

"No bastard its not okay." His muffled voice from behind the door. "You pervert. Go away!"

I sighed and rubbed my cheek wearily, small smile lingering on my lips.

My baby was becoming a man, and my god, what a beauty…

I had barely closed my eyes when small, soft hands shook me softly, rousing me from rest.

Grunting, I rolled over, burying my face in the fat pillow beneath me. "What?"

"Antonio…"

Lovino's voice through the darkness was alarmingly soft, completely lacking its usual harsh undertones. Almost… naked.

"Antonio, wake up. Please…"

"Huh?" I raised my bleary head, his shadowy form melting into focus and silhouetted darkly against the windows. "Wha- Lovino… what is it?"

"…I…"

"You what?"

He hesitated, turning his head to the side. A sliver of moonlight traced his smooth cheek, and I noticed with a lurch in my gut the wetness they bore. Tear tracks sluggishly silking flawless skin.

"… Lovino, are you okay?" raising myself onto my forearms, I reached for his face, almost toppling over. He shook his head, and dropped to his knees by my bedside, letting his cheek fall into my hand.

"Antonio…"

"What is it, what is it?" my voice was tight with panic. He spoke shakily, cracking, his trembling fingers wound around my wrist. His head shook, hair fluttering. Fresh tears trickled over my palm.

"Lovino, what?" I wrapped my arms around him firmly, drawing him up into my bed with a rustle of covers and sheets. "What is it? Are you okay? Shh… sh, stop crying and talk to big brother Spain."

He gave a choked wail and buried his face in my chest.

Frowning, I nuzzled his hair and stroked his back as soothingly as I could.

It had been a few years since Lovi had come to my room crying. He used to have really terrible nightmares as a kid, but they had grown less and less frequent and all those times he had never, never, let me comfort him physically. Usually a quick trip to his room, an under-the-bed France check and a re-tuck in was enough to calm him. So yeah, it was a little odd.

But not unwelcome.

"What is it? Did you have a nightmare?" I murmured, pulling away and swishing a tear from his cheek. "Do you feel sick?"

He shook his head and sniffled, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand.

I reached for the oil-lamb beside my bed, and the tinder in my drawer to light it, but he gripped my wrists and pulled me away.

"No light!" he demanded suddenly, his voice tinny with hormones and stuffy with emotion. "You aren't allowed to see." His fingers clamped around my own were sticky with sweat and trembling. "I… want t-to ask…I need help."

I frowned. I wasn't quite conscious enough yet, to deal with this.

"You need help?"

He nodded and sniffed miserably. "Can you… erm…" he trailed off, breathing shakily, clearly battling hard with whatever words he was trying to say.

"Can I…" I mirrored him, nuzzling his hair so that he jerked backwards.

"… Wash my sheets again?" he barely spoke the words, lips forming them nervously, hands clawing the cotton of my nightshirt into thin ruffles.

If I listened hard enough, I probably would have been able to hear his heart thump in his chest.

Ah… Lovino.

I sighed and planted a brief kiss to the crown of his head; lips struggling to twitch into a proud smile I knew may just have gotten me slaughtered if he saw it.

"Of course I can, my sweet tomato. Stay here and I will sort it out for you."

He nodded, and released me, burying his face in my pillow.

He even let me ruffle his hair, when I slipped from the bed and stretched. "Go to sleep, Lovi, you're fine."

"Thank you, Antonio."

"You're welcome."

The sun was climbing in the sky, when I set the wash board away and threw the wet but clean sheet s on to the laundry table.

My sore hands, they were inflamed and shaking, but I felt the smile on my face broad and satisfied. Like I had just completed something totally worth the burns searing between my fingers.

My eyes though, were dry and weary. My head was heavy.

I was excited to sleep, if only for a while before going to the fields once again.

I mooched upstairs. He was still in my bed, slight and willowy beneath my sheets.

"Lovi…" I sat down on the edge, mattress sinking beneath my weight, and brushed a lock of chocolate brown hair off his forehead with the heal of my palm.

Lovino's skin was flawless, tanned and smooth, glowing with a subtle youthful rose upon his cheeks. His lashes were frail but long and sweeping, almost invisible at the tips and fluttering with REM sleep.

His lips parted.

Luscious.

I sigh deeply, striping of my shirt (hands held rigidly, goddamn they stung!) and lying down beside him in the bed.

"Wakey, wakey my little tomato."

He wriggled in the bed beside me, screwing up his face and cracking open an eye.

"What?"

"It's morning time. I washed your sheets for you."

He grunted, and let the windows of hazel he had bared flicker shut once more.

"Whatever bastard."

"Ah, Lovi… you're so cute."

I cut off his complaints with a kiss, and a sore hand slipped under the sheets to slide up his inner thigh. Spluttering, squirming, trying to hit me away, Lovino was helpless. Besides, I knew he wanted it. That scent of sex clung to him like a gauzy cloak, and it had densified at least three times since I had stirred him.

"Bastard st-" he managed to snatch a word in edgeways when I broke for breath, but gripping him tight, forcing him into the mattress I drove my tongue straight into his open mouth, rolling it across his own and btiing sucking licking everything I could reach. He whined softly, and gave up his struggle. Thin fingers tied firmly in my hair and after a few minutes of him lying there and letting me kiss him breathless, I broke away with a slick pop.

"Feeling okay, Lov?" my delicate fingertips skated his leg and his swollen lips pressed together to hold in the groan.

"You're sick," he managed, struggling to wriggle away from my hand as it snuck higher. "And if you think I'm going to let you do that thing to me again you are crazy."

"But you liked it so much." I murmured, kissing his jaw and delighting in the soft gasp that earned. "And you aren't resisting…"

To prove my point, I touched his undershorts.

They were white, I knew they were white though I couldn't see them. The fabric was light and transparent. I suspected, should I lift the sheet, I would be able to see every detail of his lower body beneath them perfectly. Every delicious little square inch of skin.

Though the friction of cloth on my burned hands made me grimace, the thought of that pure white cloth tented over his erection spread hot all over my back.

"T-That's because…" he trailed off, eyes unfocused, hips shaking tightly. "it's because you… you…"

I pointed my index finger, and pressed the pad to his inner-thigh. It slid easily and lightly up beneath the fabric to the hollow of his leg and hip. I winced, feeling the burn on the back of my hand but deciding it was worth it.

"I what, lovino…" his breath was ragged now, hips tilted slightly off the mattress. "I what, what, what?"

"… You said it was my turn inside you." he croaked, eyes screwed into anxious slits. "Stop touching me like that!"

Surprised, I immediately withdrew my hand.

"You wha'?"

"You said if we were going to do it again I…" he blushed and turned his head away. "Never mind. I don't want to."

I don't think I had ever stared at Romano so hard in my life. And I had stared at Romano pretty damn hard before, rest assured. He seemed uncomfortably aware of my staring, squirming a little under my scrutiny.

"What?" he hissed after a while, blood flooding his cheeks red like... a tomato. There really is no other analogy for it. "Don't stare at me! What do you want?"

My lips pressed together and I leaned forward invasively, trying to see through his blush to his brain, and what he was thinking.

"What do you want..." I murmured, letting my eyes lock his and see through the wide windows of hazel barely concealing whatever was on his mind. The hair on the back of my neck prickled. "You know exactly what I want Lovino."

He shrunk backwards into my pillows, the furrow between his brow easing and giving me a glimpse of the fear and want and confusion that I could only ever have dreamed of before.

"No!" he tried to yell or something, but it came out spindly and weak. "No, I don't... we can't."

"Why not?" the sheets whispered as I slid my hand upwards, combing my burned fingers softly through his hair. It was cool and silken to the touch. "There's no-one here to stop us, and I haven't got anything in particular I wanted to do today..."

His budding Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed. Our noses were almost touching, and I could feel his avid heart working away in his chest, fluttering the vein that paled blue and ever so faint beneath the pearly skin of his neck.

"We cant." A whispered insistence, but it would have been more convincing if he hadn't been closing his eyes already, and leaning forward for a kiss.

His lips expressed what was on his mind much more fluently when locked in a kiss, than when spewing wet and arrowed swears and curses my way. I propped myself over him on my elbows, hands held clawed and awkward, sinking my tongue into the warmth of his redundant mouth, open so that I could work within but barely responding and unsure what to do.

"Kiss back, silly." I mumbled through the schlick of lips and my tongue against the roof of his mouth. He mumbled something indistinguishable and I pulled away so he could repeat himself. As soon as I did, his forearm flew up to wipe his mouth and hide the lower half of his flustered face.

"What?"

"I said I thought I was supposed to kiss you, bastard!" his soft eyes watered in embarrassment, saying it out loud like that was a big step for him. The realisation hitched my dick a little. His spare hand pressed forcibly against my chest. "And get off me! I told you I didn't want to!"

"Really?" I let myself fall sideways off him onto the mattress, getting comfortable on my back, hands above my head.

"Really!" he huffed and sat up hurriedly, looking down on me an scowling. "Dumbass. And another thing, since when-" he ceased talking when he saw my hands. Wounded and sore, they wrought a strange expression on his features. An almost distressed one.

"You didn't use tongs did you?" He said flatly. I shook my head.

"Nope, couldn't find any." I gave him my brightest smile. "Kiss them better?"

The look he gave me could have poisoned the towns drinking supply.

"No!" indignant and still blushing, Lovino looked away. "As if! It's your fault."

"Come on Lovi, please?"

I thrust a hand in his face, missing his nose by millimetres, and whined. "Please Lovino... they really hurt."

I watched him, he started a staring contest with my hand, cheeks colouring darker by the second.

My hand won, when with a frustrated "ugh!" he pecked my palm briefly and pushed it out of the way. I knew he would.

"There." He folded his arms and glanced at the city clock, mounted on the church tower and visible from my bedroom window. "I kissed your stupid hand. Now will you get up and make me breakfast."

"You didn't kiss this one." I grinned and beckoned him forward with the crooked finger of my other hand. "It's feeling lonely…"

A flat expression, I pouted and wiggled on the bed as cutely as I could. He whined.

"Yuck, Spain, if you were aiming for sweet there, you missed by a long shot."

"Ah, damn. Really?"

"Yes. But you got 'retarded pedo' right in the bulls-eye." His gaze edged back to my other hand, the breezy, light cloth of his nightshirt slipped down his thin shoulder and his messy auburn hair obscured one side of his pretty face. Sighing heavily, he dragged himself to his knees and tossed his hair back.

"This is not normal." He murmured, head shaking a little. "Nothing about this is normal."

"What's not normal?"

"Me, you… my life in general." He sniffed angrily and swiped the back of his hand over his eyes. And subsequently watching him come undone was just as beautiful and breathtaking as watching him drop a wineglass, teetering in his grip before tipping into the point of no return.

The fall was in slow motion and the crystalline tears pooling at the rims of his eyes were like the shattering upon impact, glittery and painful to see. It was almost beautiful in a way, so much like a glass breaking, the liquid inside retained its shape for a heartbeat before splattering everywhere and wetting all the floor around. that first glimpse of the hopeless chaos within the vessel was one that still retained the shape of what it had been inside, and his original straight back proud stance remained for a little while too, before he crumpled completely into his hands. "I'm not normal!"

"Ah, Lov-" Worried, I sat up, but he silenced me with a commanding bark.

"Don't 'Lov' me Antonio!"

My eyebrows arched. He ground his teeth.

"Don't you dare 'Lov' me! This is entirely your fault! All of it," his hands trembled. "If you hadn't doe that thing to me everything would still be normal. If you hadn't told me all that horrible stuff then I would still be normal! But no…. because you're a perverted bastard and how would you feel, if someone decided to rape you? How would you like it if-"

"Um, it wasn't rape." I offered helpfully. "You enjoyed it, its not-"

"SHUT UP!" he grabbed my pillow and whacked me firmly in the face. "I'm sick of your goddamned voice!"

"Well-"

"SHUT UP!" again with the pillow. I was a little concerned by that point. I'd never seen Lovino quite so angry in my life. "Just shut up shut up shut up!" he balled his fists, flinging punches at the pillow and grimacing. Hazel flashed to poisonous, wild green in his eyes. "Good god do you ever shut up?"

It took me by surprise, when he ceased punching suddenly and snapped his head up. Genuine fear filled me for a split second when the vicious, livid eyes of a man more strong willed and strong than I was yet to meet locked on my face. I swallowed, and clenched my sore fingers reflexively.

"… Yes?"

Dumb thing of me to do, actually, I should have just kept my stupid mouth shut. But I learned my lesson quite effectively when he hissed and lunged at me, slamming my wrists back onto the bed and pinning them down above my head.

"Bastard!" he straddled me firmly and jerked my arms backward. "Fucking bastard!"

One hand shifted from my wrists to my stomach.

"I hate you." he told me firmly, eyes narrowed, fingers pronged into my belly. "You know that don't you?"

Wide eyed, I nodded and swallowed, unsure what to think, what to do or how to feel about this astonishing and slightly scary turn of events.

"Good." The tip of a pink tongue flicked his upper lip and he released me in order to dismount,

"Get naked." He knelt up and removed his gown.

He really may as well have slapped me.

"Are you deaf?" he challenged me aggressively law jutted, shoulders thrown back. It was the first time I had seen his post pubescent body completely bared. His arms starting to develop muscles, his hips thinning and his thighs… God he had strong looking thighs. The kind that could crush my skull, the kind that would feel so good wrapped forcibly around my waist. And yet, despite this, the signature of youth was still penned across his skin in the form of awkward, feminine pads of puppy fat along his sides and pubic bone. The hair between his legs was still lustrous and soft, the coarseness of age yet to vilify it. I swallowed and without taking my eyes off him tried to lift off my own night shirt. It was hard though, with sore hands.

"Here let me." he seized it and ripped it offf rough, throwing it without care to the floor before forcing me backward again, hands on my chest.

My heart clenched. I wondered for a moment of I was dreaming. Good god, if I was, I never, ever wanted to wake up.

That instinct only doubled, when he kissed me,

It was considerably better than any dream I had ever had before ever. Even the most dirty and insanely smutty fantasies, the ones that I actually kind of felt ashamed of in the morning. With the milk.

Lovino wasn't the best kisser though. All teeth and tongue and wet. That being said, I sincerely doubted there was any such thing as a bad kiss from my Lovinito. His mouth tasted strongly of tomatoes and something sweet, something… unbelievably heart melting. His fingers combed my hair gracelessly and when we parted, the slick sucking pop pulled all my breath from my chest.

"I. hate. You. so. Much." He punctuated the sentence with more kissing, just as sloppy and unpractised, and his hips lowered to press against my bared torso. The rigid curve of his back, arching and pressing his stomach to my own, was perfect for tracing the ball of my hand along. I opened my legs and he slipped without hesitation between them, fingers dragging impatiently along my sides and between my legs where my erection was stirring. He too, seemed ready. Not so big, but pleasantly formed and curved gracefully upward, unlike my own. I hadn't noticed last time.

"Do you know what you're doing?" I spluttered, lifting my lower body a little and wincing when my dick brushed his thigh.

"I will figure it out." He assured me, short of breath and clumsy with his hand poking and prying and I hissed when his nails scratched a particularly sensitive spot.

"Found it." He withdrew his hand and jammed two fingers into his mouth to wet them. I only had a split second to be astonished by the speed and efficiency he did so, As though he was rather practiced, before they were pushed downward again and thrust in. it was uncomfortable, to say the least, and unfamiliar.

"Lovino!" I was glad no-one else was around to hear that. "Lovino stop it!"

"No, you didn't stop it." He gritted his teeth and wiggled his finger ruthlessly. "You didn't stop when I asked so I am not going to stop for you."

"But it hurts! It h-ah shit!" I tried to push him backward but couldn't, without the use of my hands I was powerless. "Use more spit for Christ's sake!"

"I only have so much spit!" his fingers thrust in once more, and he threw sweaty bangs off that pink face roughly. "And no way in hell am I licking there."

"Oh come on! I did it for YOOOOU! Lovino!" a particularly rough thrust jabbed my prostate almost painfully, and he grunted.

"Oh man up Antonio! It doesn't hurt that much."

"You were complaining plenty when I did it to you."

"For justice."

The soft growl purring from his chest was possibly the sexiest thing I had ever heard in my life. His warm breath ghosted my cheek.

"Thanks for washing me sheets by the way." The careless murmur sent a conflicting shiver down my spine, cancelling the sting of his prying finger, and alerting me to all the delectably unfamiliar places his bare skin was touching my own. "But it's entirely your fault they needed it." Neat teeth sunk into my earlobe, the warm wet tip of his tongue traced the shell, before dipping shyly in and flicking that weird little nub of flesh on the inside. It was weird. Insanely, erotically weird. And it felt good.

A soft whine escaped me before I could stop myself, and he hummed in satisfaction having found a particularly sensitive spot on my body that actually, I had never had abused before, before sealing his lips gently around that nub and sucking, tongue tapping and warm and somehow, inexplicably heating a untraveled passage of nerves and muscle stringing from the back of my neck to the muscles he was trying to loosen. I turned my head to the side obligingly, eyes closing, and allowed him to shift and get comfortable sprawled over me. It sounded just as strange, the soft moist slick of a tongue wetting, and where he wasn't being attentive, his saliva cooling on my skin felt pretty gross, actually, but for some reason I couldn't resist the moans it gleaned, the helpless pleasure his breath ghosting over that sensitive, rumpled flesh. I was whining like a girl, not even noticing his fingers still stretching, and when he withdrew them and ceased his mouth work on my ear, I complained, eyes cracking open to gaze at him groggily. His lips were puffed and wet; he shuffled down and brought the back of his hand across them before clamping it firmly, but not roughly on the underside of my thigh. In the soft white morning light, he looked particularly stunning. My body was still shaking from his lips, the wetness cooling in my ear made me squirm uncomfortably and I rubbed it away with my wrist.

"Lovino…"

"Don't ask me to stop when you're wearing an expression like that, Antonio." He sniffed and splayed his fingers, kissing his wrist hesitantly before closing his eyes and dragging his tongue languidly over the skin of his plam. "And when you make those noises… you like it don't you?"

A strand of hair still clung to his lips, the look in his eyes when he opened them was wild, and If I hadn't already been completely resigned to the idea of letting this kid fuck me, I would have been with just one violent flash of commanding, ravishing hazel.

"Lovino…" I mumbled, raising my arms and lifting my hips imploringly. "I want you."

His fingers on my thigh tightened and he lifted my leg, hitching it around his slim waist.

"Turn your head the other way." He slid his other, saliva wettened hand flatly up his chest to my jaw, turning my head softly and brushing the back of his fingers along my throat. "Let me reach the other ear if you like that so much."

I relaxed, focusing on the race of my heart and the yielding flesh and bone cradled in the crook of my one knee. The wet slick as he licked his hand again, and a light, pleasure filled groan as he moistened his cock, which had grown considerably now, and could easily have passed for a mans. The thought of it, sleek, still hairless unlike Frances, invading me and curving perfectly to press against my good spot spluttered precum from my own dick, he quelled it with a thumb and rubbed gently, the sticky liquid easing the borderline over-stimulating touch to my head and smoothing the glide of my foreskin when he pressed it back.

"You look different to me." he observed. "It's a different shape."

I would have told him that not only was everyone different, but he was still developing and his foreskin was smaller than average, but the ability to think had forsaken me. I swallowed instead, and thought airily that I would tell him later. Maybe. We would see.

"I like yours better."

I cried shamelessly when he leaned forward, nose nudging the hollow in the centre of my ribcage, and pressed his tip to my body. I fluttered in anticipation, hips lifting a little more, but rather than pressing in he nudged, sliding teasingly up and over my perineum with astonishing hip control and back down again so that he was touching, only touching. Nothing more.

"Lovi!"

"Lovi what?" his tongue flicked my skin and I shook my lower body, trying to take him in and cruelly denied the relief. "use your manners, bastard."

"Lovi please!"

"Please what?"

I bit my lip, eyes screwed shut, hoping desperately France never, ever found out about this. Ever.

"Please fuck me."

He snickered, huffing hot breath on my chest when finally, deliciously, he made his way inside.

"Wow Spain, so desperate aren't y- ohhhhh~" his sentence smoothed into a breathless moan once he was sheathed and I realised with a jolt he really had no idea what to expect being on the giving end. I wondered if he'd ever tried touching himself, (the thought of the way he had sucked those fingers earlier sent me clenching the muscles clutching him) but realised that even if he had, he would never have experienced or imagined anything close to the sensation of actually being inside someone else. Feeling their heat, and the velvet yielding softness of human flesh.

He had a wonderful dick.

It didn't hurt very much going in; the shape was perfect, and the width marginal. I decided never to tell him that with such a slim and streamlined cock he had little chance of ever satisfying a woman, but I struggled to imagine a better penis to pleasure a man. The length too, was comfortable, and it was entirely by accident he stroked my spot, pressing against it precisely and easily. Still huffing and heaving, he shifted his hips to test the waters. No noise escaped my gritted teeth, my body was tense and unyielding as he kept nudging that spot, breathing heavily and holding my hips for stability. God… praise God it felt incredible! Every move he made shivered through me, exploding in spreading, blossoming flowers of colour and light behind my eyes. His smell… so sweet as he slithered up my body strenuously, face burrowing into the side of my neck.

"Antonio~"

"Mmgh?" I balled my fists, his tongue pressed to my collar bone and crept up as far as it could, painting a flat trail of warm saliva from my throat to the junction of ear and jaw. Helplessly, my teeth ungritted and I howled lowly, a wild animalistic noise that only served to encourage his gentle lips to kiss and suck the flushed, over sensitive skin on my neck.

"You feel great." He murmured, breath catching when he tried humping his hips for the first time. "You feel sooo good~"

"You too!" my voice was achingly hoarse, my dick throbbing pressed against his tummy. "Can you move?"

"Mm." he propped himself up on his elbows either side of my chest, blowing his bangs aside and tossing his head back. His curl, the tool I had used last time we had done this, seemed much more pert that usual, sticking almost straight and rigid, barely bouncing when he gritted his teeth and gave a rough pull-thrust before crying, body collapsing back into my chest again.

"Fuck Spain…" his panting was hot and he wiggled again, massaging my good spot in a slight, firm circle. "Oh god Spain…"

"You're okay." I assured him, dropping one of my hands and touching between his shoulder blades in encouragement. I only needed a little more motion. Was that so much to ask? "Just keep going."

"I… I can't." He keened and sunk his teeth into my flesh. I winced, but dealt with it. "Spain..." His hips gave another shallow dig and he wiggled, shoulders clenching. "Spain." Breathless, he jabbed a few more times and tossed his head back. "Oh god Spain. Yes. yes." the soft and impatient rhythm he had found was perfect, the sheets rustled patiently beneath us as he rubbed up inside, not withdrawing at all, riding instead the friction clutched between us every time he shifted. My hand on his back was rigid and grabby now. I was loosing breath and patience, rolling my body a tiny bit against him to get him to rut harder. The gentle thump of skin on skin was growing lewder.

"Oh god Antonio." His nails sunk crescents into my skin. Our panting reached the ragged, yet hushed volume of frantic lovers and I indulged in the luxury of begging shamelessly, whispering for his come over and over into his ear.

I think between the moment he entered and the moment he came, he lasted about a minute. But to be fair, it was me who orgasmed first and I think, hardest. The shudder of my body crushed him; I forgot for a second, most things and screamed a violent hot flood of noise that ground deeply in my throat. The bed slats clattered and his loud, high whine cracked the perfect glassy paralysis of my peak, bringing me down in shudders and tingles, leaving me breathless and weak and warm all over. He filled me up well too, the flood of it almost hurt, but I lay there and let him finish contentedly, petting his hair and neck.

"That was fast." I murmured after the obligatory post sex kiss planted with a little more finesse on my lips. His face coloured and he punched my stomach.

"Shut up! It was your fault!"

"Mmm… yes Lovino." My arms coiled around his neck and pulled him into my embrace before he could argue. "If you say so." I kissed his forehead and he huffed angrily.

"Stop it!" he protested. "You shouldn't be kissing me like that! You weren't supposed to enjoy it!"

"What?" I laughed and pushed him gently sideways. His dick popping out of me was odd, but not unpleasant. "Was widdle Womano twying to wape big old Spainy-wain?"

The expression on his face, astonishment and humiliation and even a bit of anger thrown in, told me that actually, he may have been. I couldn't believe it, and couldn't contain the obnoxious snort of laughter that fell from my lips.

"God Romano you're so fucking cute!" I crushed him to my chest and he squealed indignantly, hitting me and squirming and swearing furiously. My sore hands brushed the sheets, but I didn't mind. My whole body felt much too good to care.

"I'm not cute!" his voice was muffled by my chest. "I'm not cute! I'm not!"

"You are." Insistently, I pulled away and kissed his mouth. "You're cute and sweet and beautiful and I love you."

"No I'm not!"

"You are." I kissed his nose and he screwed it up in disgust. "And I can't imagine my life ever having meaning without you."

"That's-"

"Shut up Lovino, now let's just lie here and bond."

And after three or four minutes of cuddling under duress later, he stopped resisting, allowing me to hold his hand with a heavy sigh and shyly placing a kiss on my shoulder.

"Fine." He conceded, closing his eyes. "If you want to be that way, I will let you. So long as I'm on top for sex from now on."

I sat up hurriedly.

"…what?"

HOLY SHIT GUYS! The internet is raping my mind and my values and everything I hold dear. OTL

Today I found myself seriously considering writing a Fem!spainxLovino fic… and then I felt a little bit as though I had betrayed an integral part of who I am. =_=

Fear not self, and my apologies to those whom got excite for reading this. There is not now, nor will there EVER be a Fem!anyone fic spring forth from my pen. That's how I roll.

Have this lollypop as an apology.

I don't know… for some reason giving my favourite hetalia characters vaginas feels almost like shipping RonxVoldemort within the HP fandom. God help me I just cant bring myself to do it. I mean, if you want to give germany female genitalia then go ahead, and if you want ron and voldemort to have loud passionate man-sex in the bathroom of your local starbucks then good for you.

But I digress…

Anyone wanna come with me to starbucks for a coffee?