Romano flopped down on his bed with a gravelly sigh, his suit jacket long gone and his tie hanging undone around his neck. He'd discarded the jacket after his brother's wedding reception, but the reception was a blurry, angry memory.

"Where are you going, Romano?" his brother asked, his new tuxedo they'd bought together rumpled where Germany had fisted his hands after they were pronounced 'married'. Romano's eyes stuck to the rumples, remembering the kiss they'd shared, and his lips tightened. "The reception is just starting! You and Mr. Spain will miss cake! Germany had-" Romano cut his brother off, saying that the face full of flowers was enough of a reception for him. Romano didn't feel at all guilty leaving, not even when Spain complained the whole way home about missing the Belgian cake.

Romano frowned, looking at himself in the mirror across the room, and he scowled at the bouquet of flowers in his hand. 'Since when did I take this with me?' The Southern half of Italy considered throwing the flowers to relieve some tension –seeing the centaureas and white daisies made Romano's chest tighten.

When he did, he heard the bells from the German church earlier that night and wondered what his own wedding would be like. His mind was suddenly so filled with his own depressingly empty love-life that Romano missed when Spain came into the room. The Spaniard caught the bouquet, seeing Romano's sad, far-away stare, and laughed to relieve the heaviness in the air.

"Does this mean you'll marry me, Lovi'?" He used the young man's personal name, hoping to get a rise out of the moody little Italian.

Romano sat up: "No way in Hell, Spagna!" He shouted, snarling at the tall man and rolling onto his other side to have his back facing Spain. He didn't acknowledge his caretaker when he lay down beside him but, when Spain's fingers combed through his hair, he jumped. "Don't touch me!"

Romano swatted Spain's big warm hand away, but when he settled down, he felt the Spaniard's fingers on his prominent curl. He rolled over, intent to smack Spain, and shouted, "I said, 'don't-"

Spain caught his hand and, sliding one arm under him, the senior nation kissed each of his knuckles delicately. Romano lay there dry-mouthed, feeling the warm hand on his navel cutely, and let his caretaker trail his lips up his whole arm.

"S-Spain?" Romano managed, his mouth open and dry.

"Lovino…" Spain whispered against his ear, and Romano turned his head away before Spain's lips could catch his.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, feeling the man's breath against his neck.

"No reason," Spain told him, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his neck. "I just wanted you to know I love you…!" Nipping at his neck, Spain's hands wandered inappropriately until Romano pushed him away.

"Don't lie to me, Spain." He growled, "What's going on?" Spain sat back on his heels, chewing on his lip, and stared down at his knees while he clenched and unclenched his tanned hands. "Tell me!"

"PRUSSIA WAS ALL OVER YOU AT THE WEDDING!" Spain shouted, "Y-You don't let me touch you in public! A-And when I ask you about sex, you-"

"DON'T JUST SAY IT!" Romano shouted, turning tomato red. "It's embarrassing!"

"Do you hate me, Lovino?" Spain snapped, "Is that what's wrong?" Romano stared in shock as his usually cheerful caretaker lay back on his bed and draped one arm across his eyes.

After a few minutes, Spain felt weight on his stomach and he moved his arm to see the Italian perched on his stomach. Romano's small soft hands held his arms in place and before Spain could speak, Romano kissed him softly. He responded immediately to the younger nation's advances, but Romano pulled away from his lips. Instead of leaving like Spain assumed he would, Romano rested his forehead against his and whispered,

"You're un idiota; you know that, don't you?" Romano bent his head again, letting Spain sigh into their second kiss. The older nation responded carefully, his tongue reacting slowly to Romano's kiss so that he didn't run away, and he eventually managed to coax Romano into parting his lips. Spain's tongue delved into his young ward's mouth, tasting tomatoes from the wedding dinner, and they both groaned at the contact.

Romano pulled back for air and Spain licked his lips, breaking the string of saliva connecting them.

"Go ahead, Lovi," Spain murmured, "I'm yours." He moved to accommodate the young man, but Romano shook his head slowly and squeezed his hands as he got off Spain's stomach. All hope in the man's chest crumbled, but the young nation curled into the curve of his side and shakily wove the fingers in their left hands together.

"I'm not going anywhere, Antonio…" Romano whispered shyly, kissing Spain's cheek. "Prometto…" Spain stared at the young man tearfully, blinked them back, and sniffled, bringing the back of Romano's hand to his lips and tenderly kissing each knuckle.

"I know…" he mumbled, letting a tear fall. "I know. Muchas gracias, Romano…"

My translations may not be 100%, but I don't speak either of these languages and I don't have anyone who does. Sorry if I butcher a language! I try my best! If anyone knows a good translation site, let me know!

1) un idiota – an idiot (ITALIAN)

2) prometto - I promise (ITALIAN)

3) muchas gracias - thank you (SPANISH)