Hi! Author Note time~ So this is just smut, and yaoi, and so yeah rated M for a whole lot more than Ramano's mouth (if you know what I mean~) so those are the warnings! Oh and I use other languages and translate them at the end so I hope I didn't butcher it, let me know if i did though, kk? Hope you like!
Italy ran upstairs excited for the double date that he had tricked me into, dumb Feli with his pathetic puppy-dog eyes. That's the real reason he never opens them, they're a weapon of mass persuasion. The potato bastard sat as far away from me as he could while pretending to inspect a plant that we had on the table.
"Hey, potato bastard!" I called across the room.
He jumped a little and looked rather worried "Uh Ja, Romano?"
"Listen, and listen good, you make Feli very happy, you always have" I mumbled the last bit "so I'm letting you know that I approve of your relationship, because you make him so happy. But if you ever hurt mi fratello, I will have the mafia on your fucking ass quicker than you can say 'wurst.' Even if they can't kill you, you will wish you could die. Capiche?" The damn bastard looked like he had just shit himself. "Capiche?" I repeated.
"Ja, ich verstehe. I mean, I understand."
"And I'm still going to call you potato bastard. Potato bastard." That's about the time that Feli came bounding down the stairs dressed in a suit and tie, Antonio had picked the restaurant, so of course it was a formal-ish place.
"Ludwig~ How do I look?" He came to stand in front of the bastard, I could hear his face change "Are you okay?"
"Ja, ja, I'm fine Feli. And you look great." This sent Feli into a spiral of 've~'s and 'hurry's, and off we were to the restaurant. But when I looked in the rearview mirror at the potato bastard he met my eyes and nodded. He knew I was serious so I suppose that's what really mattered.
After an extremely eventful double date with the Italies and Ludwig I got dragged away by mi tomatito after he said something about me drinking too much. But I just acted drunk so that he would drag me away; he likes to be in charge. I smiled at the thought at started to sing mi tomate to him.
"I told you before bastard you can't carry a tune and those damn lyrics make less sense now than the day you made them up." He grumbled from the driver's seat. I leaned over the gear shift and began to kiss his neck. "Che palle…" He trailed as we finally turned down the street to my house.
"Mi tomate~ como quiero mi tomate~" I started up again as we got out of the car and I stumbled over to his side. "Oh mi precioso tomate, yo deseo besar mi tomate~" I had to change it to besar because Lovi didn't like follar, he said it was none of their damn business what we do. It was the first time that he didn't deny it out right so I told him I would change it. He had blushed as red as a tomato, I was so happy that day. "Pero deseo follar mi tomatito anoche…" I trailed out loud unthinking, only to look up and see Lovi red as a tomato again.
"Ge-get inside ya damn bastard, che palle…" He looked away and continued up to the house.
"But, I might fall if you don't help me~" I stumbled a little for effect.
"And you deserve it too, ya dumbass." He came back and put his arm around me.
"Gracias tomatito~" I breathed in his ear and then pressed my lips to the soft spot beneath his ear.
"Si, si, qualunque…" He muttered and we made our way through the door. Normally we head into the living room where he would drop me on the couch and complain that I had gained weight but instead we made our way up the hallway to the bedroom. I opened the door not questioning it. I liked where this was headed so I kept my thoughts to myself.
"Get out of that suit; these things are a pain in the ass." He said removing his tie. I hadn't worn one because, well, I can't tie one correctly and Lovi said he likes it better when I don't where one, it was a win-win.
I took the suit jacket off and hung it up; Lovi threw his tie on the corner chair followed by his jacket. I started to unbutton my top but fumbled. Lovi saw and swore under his breath. Without having to do it again he walked over and started to do it for me. I leaned into him. "Gracias tomatito~" I whispered.
"Si, si…" he ran his hands up my chest now that it was bared for him. He didn't say anything else just kept roaming over my skin eventually pushing the fabric off my shoulders forcing it to bunch at my elbows since I had my hands on his hips. Tan hands made their way up and down my muscled torso. He didn't look at me, just watched his hands travel over my skin. They brushed over my nipples but he didn't pay them any special attention, it was like he was thinking about something else.
"Lovino?" I said taking one hand off of him at a time to let the shirt fall away without having to stop touching him.
"Hmm?" He said absentmindedly still running his hands all over me.
"Is everything okay?" He had been acting odd all night. Called Germany Ludwig once or twice instead of potato bastard, hadn't hit Feliciano even once for being the airhead he is. In fact Feliciano had started to panic over not getting hit, and had increased the stupid things he said until Lovino blew up at him, but he never hit him. And on top of everything he had barely pushed me away, or said anything about me calling him tomatito in public. In public. He'd let it slide a lot when it was just us, but put on a big production when we were out.
"Si, fine," he responded and took his hands off me. He turned back to the other side of the room and finished unbuttoning his shirt throwing it on his pile. I picked up my shirt and hung it up then took my belt off hanging it with the rest. His was on top of the clothing pile; I quickly unbuttoned my slacks and stepped out of them, letting them stay on the floor as I walked up behind him. I didn't have to worry about boxers, I hadn't worn any.
"Lovino~" I whispered pressing myself into him, letting my hands flow over his Mediterranean skin to his pants which I quickly took care of, freeing his growing erection.
"Antonio" He hissed when I grabbed him.
"Sí" I breathed on his prone shoulder. He began to struggle so I squeezed him.
"Chigi!" He exclaimed, stilling. I moved my other hand up his abdomen towards his chest to tease a nipple.
"Buen tomate," I started kissing and nipping his shoulder, paying attention to the nipple that I had successfully captured. He reached one hand behind to me landing on my thigh, rubbing it as best he could, the other was on my arm that crossed his body. He was beginning to pant.
"Antonio, I want to touch you," he growled which surprised me. He wasn't very vocal about what he wanted; he would struggle with me if he wanted to top, but rarely voiced his preference.
"In good time mi tomatito," I whispered and maneuvered us over to the bed. He turned in my grasp and began kissing me fiercely. Again I was caught off guard; he didn't respond like this unless I grabbed his curl, or he was drunk. But he had only had a few glasses of wine at the restaurant and I was pretty sure I hadn't run my fingers over his curl yet. Maybe I had drunk more than I thought?
Deciding to reconcile the problem in my mind, I ran my hand through his hair paying special attention to his curl and he moaned against my skin, the tension easing out of him. He hung off of me; I straddled him, and surprisingly of all he didn't put up any kind of fight. Now that he could touch me he apparently didn't want to fight for top. I pressed him into the mattress and off of me he groaned in protest until I teased his curl again. The next sound was one of ecstasy instead of disappointment. I got off the bed to grab the lube; he'd give me hell in the morning if I went in dry.
When I turned around all the pillows had been moved to the foot of the bed and he was placing his hands on the wall, kneeling in front of it. I nearly dropped the damn bottle. How had he known I was going to ask him to do that? "Lovi~" I sang walking back to him "Mi tomate~ Mi precioso tomate, tan lindo y rojo y redondo~" I sang the last part while squeezing his ass. I climbed onto the bed and kneeled behind him.
"Lovino~" I ran a finger down his back bone. He was still really tense. "Lovi? Are you sure this is what you want? You can lie down if you'd prefer."
"Why would you ask?" He responded stiffly.
"Because you are tense Lovi," I leaned against him and snaked my hand around his waist to handle him. I pressed my face into the crook of his neck and I could hear his heart beating loud and strong, and getting faster by the minute. "Relax, Lovino, it's me Antonio, just me." I whispered the last part and pressed kisses to his back. My other hand found its way up to Lovi's face and I turned it to get a kiss in. My tongue delved deep into the mouth I knew so well. I knew this man so well.
I handled him roughly and he gasped around our lips. "Lovi~" I whispered to my lover, he turned his head away and placed his forehead on the wall moving into my grip. I went back to making marks on his shoulders and the back of his neck, my hand went to the nipple it had neglected earlier. Lovino was panting hard now, after another minute of running my hand firmly down his member, adding more and more pressure until he had no choice but to relax, I let go. A whimper escaped him briefly.
I lathered my hands and began to tease his entrance, one hand on his hip to steady us. He tensed a little in anticipation but relaxed as I pressed my first finger in. Normally I started off with two, but Lovi was acting a little weird so I decided to go slow tonight. Besides we can savor our time together every once in a while.
I pressed the second one in and began to scissor them, he moaned and I kissed his back running my other hand up and down his hip as he began to rock on my fingers. The third one was always the hardest. I bit his shoulder and he hissed as I pressed it into him. I grabbed his hip as I stretched him, always so tight, I thought helping him rock on my fingers until I found his spot. He cried out, cutting it off sharply. Like I said, he wasn't very vocal, or at least he tried not to be.
"Ready Lovi?" I asked in his ear, leaning fully over him.
"Si," he panted. I licked his curl as I removed my fingers; he quivered against me.
I put a little more lube on my penis – I didn't want to hurt my Lovi – then lined us up. Leaning into it I nailed his prostrate in one rough movement. He buried his face in his arm – he had moved it up in anticipation – muffling the noises. I placed my hands on his hips and leaned into him more, then began a steady rhythm that hit those nerves every other thrust.
Once I was balanced I snaked one of my hands back to his manhood and began to work it in the same rhythm. His head fell back, mouth open in a silent moan. He started pressing into my hand throwing my rhythm off. "Antonio" he panted quietly throwing me off more and causing us to moan more and me to nail him harder. He shouted at one point, "Lo siento, did I–" I started.
"Again, please" so I did it again, and again, and again, "chigi, Antonio I'm going–" He came in my hand and I could feel him sway from the release. I grabbed him with both hands again and crashed into him two or three times more before coming inside of him. I shouted not bothering to hide how good it felt to come inside this man.
I carefully exited him and guided his body down to the bed, our heads on the pillows at the foot of the queen sized thing. In the shadows thrown by the streetlamps I could see all the bruises that I'd marked him with. I hadn't even realized that I had been kissing his beautiful skin that hard until I saw those marks. I was particularly proud of the bruise that was forming on his shoulder. I gently pulled closer to him, flush with him. He turned towards me and we repositioned ourselves so that I was encircling him. I kissed him again and again. He met every kiss, opening his lips for me and sighing into the actions.
I finally stopped, a whimper died on his lips. "Buonanotte mi amore" He whispered and drifted off.
"Buenas noches mi amor" I responded bringing him closer still.
It was morning. He hadn't closed the damn drapes again, so the sun was getting in my eyes. Why did the dumb window have to face the east? Pain in my ass. I thought burying my face in his huge chest. He grumbled and moved in his sleep, causing his leg to rub up against me. I gasped at the unexpected motion and he pressed in closer to me, his morning wood pressing into my stomach. You'd think that I could get a break every once in a while but he was insatiable, country of passion, more like the country of horniness.
I ended up pulling away from him, unable to stand the closeness of our bodies any longer. His sleeping face was perfect. I sat up and just stared at it in the quiet morning. At times like this I could do so without him pestering me, or asking why, I just could take in every inch of his features without inhibitions, or his annoyingly sexy voice.
I brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes. Why me? I thought for the millionth time. He could have chosen anyone, could have sent me back to Sicily as soon as the Hasburgs gave their control back to the Austrian branch of the family, but Austria was having enough trouble with Feli and the HRE – pre potato bastard era – so Spain and piano bastard worked it out. Eventually I had to be in Italy full time because Feli's people and mine had untied the country. Ah the equivalent of our teenage years, the first time we were really our own country since Grandpa Rome died.
But even then the tomato bastard had come for informal – read as personal – visits just to 'check on me.' Half the time I was pretty sure he was just making sure I hadn't killed Feli. Which I wouldn't even if I had thought it a time or two, siblings are supposed to want to wring each other's necks once in a while, right?
Of course we all had our 'rebellious' phases, in mine I may or may not have instigated the Cosa Nostra and other Mafioso type crime syndicates in my part of the country. That may have been his real reason to come checking on me, make sure that none of them figured out I was immortal-ish and/or how important I was to the country. I mean hell, I am the country. That might have pissed me off more, to think that I couldn't take care of myself and my secret identity. To the families I was just one in a long line of Vargas' boys, taking on the name of my 'father' either Lovino, or my scary hit-man-ish name Roma. I sighed, what had I been thinking when I told them that? Not much apparently.
Still he had come to just talk to me. But I took advantage of it too much, I knew that. I really did; it just hadn't hit me 'til Bella had yelled at me. Telling me I didn't need to be a grouch all the time, especially with friends, concluding the argument with "A tsundere character is only accepted because they show their weakness to those closest to them once in a while." My mouth had dropped; I thought she understood, I mean she had been my friend since I had been a possession in Spain's house. I told her she had been spending too much time with Hungary and stormed out.
I spent the next day thinking about her words – read as mopping. That's when Feli had decided a double date was in order. I ended up agreeing, half because of his fucking puppy dog eyes and half because he was my brother and most of the time I treated him like shit. I had always just assumed that he knew I didn't really mean any of it; this was just how I acted. I had since our split; I had to protect myself (emotionally) from our 'family.' Nonno Rome had died and the vultures swooped in on the tail ends of the renaissance. Then Austria finally took us while HRE tried to convince Feli to become one with him. (I still think that holy bastard looked an awful lot like what the potato bastard would have as a brat.)
Then I annoyed Austria enough to pawn me off onto Spain who was too stupid to get rid of me, or let France take me. He had tried his best to ignore his lustful best friend, of course that damned Napoleon finally won Feli for France but either fratello was brainwashed or France really hadn't done anything to hurt him, or destroy his innocence. But even then Spain let me stay with him or come back to him when I had to go away for some meeting I still didn't fully comprehend.
Maybe it's because he's a fucking pedophile I mused, but that wasn't true. Whatever he felt for me it had never come across as more than a caretaker when I was a child-looking nation. I mean I had never seen him as a 'father-figure' like America and Britain's relationship (which is something I wouldn't touch with a thirty meter pole) but I would be lying if I said I hadn't relied on him. Maybe we've just been together for too long, I thought again, but that wasn't right either because at the end of the day I was the one who initiated our change of relationship (no matter what his friends think I had started this thing between us.) He could have refused, or said go to hell or whatever. He hadn't though; he had said yes and been happy to be my boyfriend – read as slave – ever since. He didn't even complain just put up with it, with a fucking smile on his fucking goddamn beautiful face.
Yeah our relationship has changed and grown over the centuries, but he's still Antonio, and I'm still Lovino. I ran a hand through my hair trying again to figure it out.
The question remained though. Why?
The shower was running and the spot next to me was empty. I turned over and realized I had left the drapes open again. I squinted trying to reach over for a clock that wasn't there. Disoriented I squirmed a bit under the thin sheet that covered me trying to sit up but just managed to fall onto the hardwood floor. "Ow," I said standing up. The shower went off and there was rustling. I finally found the clock 10:14 the thing glared in bright red numbers.
I hope Ludwig and Feliciano made it home alright. The stray thought surfaced, Lovi had driven them to the restaurant, but had driven back with me. Did I take my car? I paused picking my pants up off the floor, and then I remember I had taken a cab. Relived I hung the pants up and proceeded to Lovi's pile to put them away. But they were already gone. How long has he been up?
The door to the wash room opened a small cloud of steam escaped with him. "How long have you been up Lovi? You're not usually a morning person." He was still acting strange apparently. I should have pressed him for answers last night, but I suppose I had other things on my mind. Lovi wasn't necessarily the only callous one in the relationship.
"For a couple hours, why?"
"Just wondering, your clothes were all gone."
"Uh, yeah, I put the away, or in the wash. Hope that's okay…" He knew it was. I was more than a bit shocked. Lovino not being a morning person was the understatement of the millennia, and he hadn't called me a bastard. Not. Once.
I walked over to him and pressed the back of my hand to his forehead. "You don't seem to have a fever." He hit my hand away and opened his mouth, his eyebrows pinched in the center like he was going to start yelling, and I almost welcomed it.
Instead he took a deep breath and said "I'm fine Antonio, put some clothes on." Then he headed out of the room. I stood thunderstruck. He hadn't yelled or cursed or punched me. Nothing.
After recovering somewhat from his reaction I followed him out to the kitchen still naked. The coffee pot was steadily brewing the black liquid and he was standing over it mumbling something that at this distance was meaningless. "I thought I told you to get dressed ba- Antonio" he ground out my name in place of the insult.
"Where's my Lovi and what have you done with him?" I accused him jokingly. In reality, that was the most reasonable explanation, and the only possible one left. Lovino had been replaced with an alien look alike (hey if there were aliens that could turn people into faceless white blobs, then there were aliens that could imitate us.) Alfred is going to have a field day with this when I tell him Lovi's been abducted and replaced.
Lovi was pissed, his face flushed red with anger and the veins in his neck stood out. "IT'S ME YOU FUCKING BASTARD, WHO ELSE WOULD IT BE?" He yelled then quickly turned away from me. "Mi dispiace," his apology came quietly over his shoulder.
"Stop acting like this Lovi, tell me what's wrong you've been acting weird since the restaurant." I walked up and put my hand on his shoulder. He pulled away and we stood there for a few unbearable moments.
"Why do you put up with me?" My jaw dropped.
He turned towards me, "Why do you put up with me?" He repeated and there was a look in his eyes that I hadn't seen since the end of WWII. It was one full of questions, desperation, and self loathing.
"Because I love you," I told him without hesitation.
"Why? I'm horrible to you I'm horrible to everyone. I yell at them and call them bastard or some other insult. I beat up people that I love and fight with anyone who will talk to me. I don't think I have a kind bone in my body." He trailed.
I thought about my response, because he would get angry if I lied to him, but if the truth was too harsh it could cut him deep too. Lovino may put up a strong front, but we all knew that he was all talk and mostly no bite. Mostly. "Lovi, you can't beat any one up." That may not have been the best line to start with, but really I was not known for my tact. He looked at me and pursed his lips. "And your words are harsh but your actions are more betraying to your kindness than you realize."
I closed the distance between us and cupped his face in my hand. "You only call people bastard who you know, or behind their backs, like Russia. You hate him, but you rarely call him bastard to his face because you don't know him too well. You say you hate Germany and Prussia but you call them bastard to their face all the time, because you know them, and you know them well." I rubbed his cheek with my thumb. "You always put distance between yourself and people that you love because you hate getting hurt. Everyone does, so sometimes you do mean things like hit them or kick them, occasionally bite them if the opportunity arises," I smiled, but he still looked miserable, so I sighed and continued "But if someone else hurts them you're right there in that person's face. We all have mechanisms to keep from getting hurt, all nations do. We live for a long time, and we don't always have control being nations, so we get hurt a lot. Sometimes we don't always understand each other's coping skills."
I smiled brightly and placed both hands on his shoulders "Look at America, he acts unaffected by it, loudly exclaiming that it doesn't bother him. But we've all seen him cry, or get serious, or angry. He just acts like a goof to hide that fact. Or Germany all stiff and cold, we all thought that nothing could affect him, but we were all wrong, weren't we? Even Feliciano, he acts innocent and like he doesn't understand so he can't get hurt, but he hurts a lot. But he smiles like it doesn't bother him right?" I leaned in and put my forehead against his.
"Lovi, we may be the embodiment of our countries, but let's face it, there are a lot of different people in all our countries, and we have to deal with them in our own way. So you're a bit crabby and like to call people bastard. You also look out for your people and are a spectacular lover." He smirked a bit. "That's why I love you Lovi, you are who you are and you're not anyone else. You're rough and I like that. No one is perfect, not even us Lovi." I kissed his nose and moved away back to the coffee pot that had finished its brewing. I poured two mugs of the black stuff handing one to my lover.
"Grazie…Bastard."He said and I leaned against the counter laughing. "You really should put some clothes on."
"No mi amor, you should really take your clothes off." I wiggled my eyebrows in a suggestive manner, and I received a rare laugh from the man I loved so much. It was genuine and rang through the small kitchen. He was feeling better.
Ja – Yeah =German
Mi Fratello – My brother =Italian
Capiche? – understand? =Italian (though I'm not entirely sure that this is an Italian saying or more of an American-Italian saying…)
Ja, ich verstehe – Yeah I understand = German
Ve – I wasn't sure it was necessary but just to recap, it's a noise that Italy makes a lot, kind of like a verbal tick
Mi tomatito – My little tomato = Spanish (again I'm not entirely sure whether Spain would add –tito or –cito to the end of a word, but I know that Puerto Ricans do, and the suffix is just a cutesy affection thing that roughly translates to little)
Mi tomate – My tomato =Spanish
Che palle – What balls =Italian (from what I understand it's a vulgar "what nerve" kind of saying… feel free to correct me)
Mi tomate~ como quiero mi tomate~… Oh mi precioso tomate, yo deseo besar mi tomate~ - My tomato how I want (I love) my tomato… Oh my precious tomato, I wish to kiss my tomato =Spanish (I imagine that Spain didn't think too hard on the lyrics, or possibly came up with them when he was drunk, so forgive me if they are a bit simple and/or stupid.)
Besar – to kiss =Spanish
Follar – to fuck/ to have sex =Spanish (again drunk or lazy, take your pick)
Pero deseo follar mi tomatito anoche… - But I wish to fuck my little tomato tonight… =Spanish
Gracias – thanks/ thank you =Spanish
Si, si, qualunque – yea, yea, whatever =Italian
Chigi – is a noise that Romano makes when he is surprised or aroused (according to Hetalia Archives) it seemed like a fun thing to have Romano say
Buen tomate – Good tomato =Spanish (I suppose it might be bueno tomate, but they both equal the same thing –shrugs-)
Mi tomate~ Mi precioso tomate, tan lindo y rojo y redondo~ - My tomato, my precious tomato, so pretty and red and round =Spanish
Lo siento – I'm sorry =Spanish
Buonanotte mi amore – Goodnight my love =Italian
Buenas noches mi amor – Goodnight my love =Spanish
Nonno – Gandpa =Italian
Mi dispiace – I'm sorry =Itaian
Que – what =Spanish
Grazie – Thanks =Italian
This is just some history to go with your smut, skim it or skip it if you wish.
Okay so I did some research so I would have some credibility with Romano's inner angst monologue and so here we go: 1494 is where we have France and HRE fighting over Italy (which is shown to be just Feli in the anime/manga); 1559 Romano is living with Spain under the Spanish Habsburgs which (if I remember correctly) are related to the ruling Austrians of the HRE; early 1700s Spain gives Italian control back to Austria (though in my made up world Romano still lives with Spain though all political and human things are handled by Austria); 1796 Napoleon conquers N Italy, which is unified under French Rule in 1804; 1814 Austria regains some control of N Italy, then France comes back and they go back and forth until around 1870. And somewhere around 1812 Cosa Nostra, which is the 'original family' in Sicily is born, other factions with other names start popping up in S Italy soon after.