Little bit of Spamano fluffy times. Enjoy! Wrote this ages ago and haven't re-read it, so it might sound a bit iffy.
Characters do not belong to me.
It was between the hours of seven and eight p.m. The power was out.
However it was summer, so this didn't make a lot of difference. And June in Southern Spain isn't exactly famous for being a bit chilly. The sun had only just set; sky still pale behind the hills, but inky blue overhead. The perfect time of day for smiling whispers and gentle touches – Antonio's favourite time of day.
As soon as the light bulbs had sputtered and died, along with the kitchen appliances, he dove into the dusty cupboard where they kept spare candles and matches, and whipped out a bottle of wine, apparently from nowhere. Lovino had rolled his eyes and muttered something about alcoholics. In five minutes flat the Spaniard had every shelf, alcove, and most of the floor covered with lazily flickering candles. He had thrown open the balcony doors to let in the dying sunlight, and the smell of the warm summer earth. He grabbed two wine glasses and threw every cushion he owned into a large pile in the centre of the floor; on which he and Lovino were now sprawled, content and light headed with wine. The Italian was lying on his back, eyes closed and glass of wine tilted dangerously close to the floor. Antonio lay on his front, a small smile on his face, stroking his thumb over Lovino's cheek. Their peace was soon shattered when Toni opened his mouth. Bless him.
"Lovi... Do you love me?"
Said nation opened his eyes, and flung his wine glass across the floor.
"W – what? Why do you have to be so blunt?"
"It's easier." Antonio said, resting his chin on his folded arms. "Please answer."
"Of course I do, bastard."It was no longer just the wine causing Lovino to blush.
"Of course you do what?" He asked, his eyes still on the Italian.
"I... love... I love you."
"I love you too, Lovi."
"Jerk." He swung a squashy green cushion at its owner. "Why'd you have to –"
"But Lovino, there is still something I would like to know."
"What now you complete –"
"Why what?" Lovino rolled his eyes. "Jesus..."
"Why is it that you love me?"
"Why do you always have to ask such stupid questions, bastard?"
"Because Lovi," he rolled onto his stomach, "you shout so much. You call me bastard, jerk, idiota,
you slap me away. I see you frown so often. It is a relief, when I watch you sleep, to see your face relaxed, almost happy, and not frowning at me."
"Wait, you watch me sleep - ?"
"And you say you love me, you let me kiss you, sometimes you kiss back, you come to my bed... And
yet, sometimes I cannot feel that you love me. And I love you so much Lovino, so very much, that I do not know how many more times I can wake up to your frown."
Lovino sat up. "Are – are you leaving me?"
"I did not say that, my love."
"You'd better not be."
"Please Romano. Answer my question."
The Italian prodded at the lumpy, twisted form of an extinguished candle. "Listen good bastard, I'm not going to say this again. My brother... he may be an idiot, but he is there when I need him, along with his hug therapy." He shook his head. "You remember Spain, when Holy Rome, when he... left?"
"When he - ? Oh. Yes."
"Feliciano was... devastated. You remember. Of course he tried not to show it, considerate idiot that he is. But after hearing him crying into his pillow every night when he thought I was asleep... well, I kind of guessed." He sighed and picked at the tasselled edge of a cushion. "That and the look he used to get. Just for a moment, when he thought no one was looking. Idiot. All the joy just melted off his face like wax, leaving nothing but grief."
"That's really sad Lovi, but I don't see – "
"He still makes that face sometimes, when he remembers Holy Rome."
"Then that damn potato eater hugs him, and gives him a little smile, and he's back to stupid grinning idiot again."
The Italian blinked. "What, bastard?"
"I don't get how that has anything to do with us."
"Oh." Lovino flopped back down onto his front, muttering. "Damn it Spain, I forget how slow you are."
Toni just smiled.
"Alright. Well I saw Feli going through all that shit, and, well, I don't want to talk about it, but he was HURT. And I – I decided that wasn't going to happen to me. Ever. I decided not to fall in love." He laughed shakily. "Then you," he poked Antonio hard in the chest, "come along with your stupid smile, and your idiotic 'Lovi~ I love you' s and your damn tomatoes –"
"You forgot kisses." Antonio took hold of Lovino's face and gently brought their lips together, as the latter turned the colour of the aforementioned fruit. Smiling, Toni pulled away and brushed Lovino's hair from his eyes.
"Yeah – yeah. Those too." Lovino said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "And your fabulous backside." He added as an afterthought.
The Spaniard laughed and flopped onto his back once more, his movement causing nearby candles to jump and flicker. Lovino sat up and stared at the cushion in his lap.
"And now, because of all that stuff, I love you, whether I want to or not. And – and I know I don't show you this very well, but I do. And it's because you STILL love me, and h-hold me and stuff, even though I can be a complete bastard... It makes me love you even more. Idiot."
There was a second's pause before Antonio flung himself at Lovino, breaking his own wine glass and knocking over several candles in the process, before sitting on the Italian's hips, pinning him down.
"What the hell was that?" he yelled at the Spaniard smiling serenely above him.
"Love you too Lovi." He replied, leaning forward to place a kiss on his lover's forehead, before
turning his attention to his neck, breathing softly and placing small kisses along his jaw.
"Get OFF bastard." Lovino shoved Toni off him, and glared at the confused Spaniard now lost in a pile of cushions. "Not while the door is open anyway," he mumbled, "anyone could look in and see us..." he hesitated.
Lovino cringed. "Yes. That."
Antonio grinned and stood up. "Then I'd better close the doors, hadn't I? My lovely one."