prize fic for Mochikyan for being reviewer 45~! Mochi asked for a dark!fic, which features tsundere Romano taking his hurtful words a step too far, so this is going to feature many things that might make you cringe or uncomfortable. Some torture, smut and submission ... so um ... I hope you enjoy Mochi~!
Also, Airis Hanamori asked for a pirate!spain story, I'm working on that one now~~ so a few new oneshots will be uploaded soon enough lol
having troubles, hope it's up now ... still having troubles ... this is the sixth time i've uploaded and replaced this chapter. Fanfiction is being really weird with me. I hope it's up this time, because I'm going to be p********d if it's not.
Learning The Lesson
Romano glared at Spain as the sun kissed man walked over with the small tray. There were several tomatoes on it, as well as some thing for them to drink. Spain was excited to see Romano for the first time in nearly half a century.
He plopped down on the sofa next to the southern half of Italy and smiled, "So how have you been, mi tomate?"
"Been better. These the best tomatoes you've grown this season?" he growled in response, picking one of them up and squeezing it's firm flesh.
Spain chuckled, "Those are perfect tomatoes~!" he countered.
Silence overcame the two as Romano sunk his teeth into the tomato's red skin, letting the translucent red juices drip down his chin. The Spaniard grinned, "You're making a mess, Roma~!" a napkin in his hands was used to wipe away the juices, causing Romano to slap away his hand and glare.
"Don't touch me, tomato bastard …" he growled, finishing off the first of many of the fruits. By the time he'd had his fill, night was settling in. The sun was more than halfway down the horizon, splashing the skies with pinks and oranges that made Spain's heart flutter in joy. He thoroughly enjoyed his sunsets, and believed them to be one of the most gorgeous in the world, especially when it was setting over his tomato fields with the waves of the sea far behind him, off the coast of his Barcelona home.
The Spanish country's personification had had this home for a very, very long time. Longer than he actually cared to remember. That part of his life was partially black in his mind. He didn't know why, but all he remembered was his Romano and taking care of him. Then darkness, then Romano slowly growing up amidst the dark memories. Finally … one day … every thing he remembered was clear again, no darkness, no blank spots … only his Romano~
He smiled, "Isn't the sunset gorgeous, Roma?" Spain asked, turning to face the Italian. Romano looked out to the balcony his former boss stood on and glared, "Nothing special. The one in Roma is gorgeous. This is crap." he crossed his arms.
Spain's smile faltered lightly, but it remained. His Romano had always been a tad disrespectful and mean, but he never truly meant anything he said … right? At least … that's what Spain had told himself ever since that night so long ago when he'd defended the Italian from Turkey and one of his former queens.
He loved the southern half so much more than he could ever express in words or actions, but he could try. Romano meant everything to him. Romano was the only thing he could really remember from his past. So many decades were completely lost and of course, he remembered bits and pieces here and there, mostly blood red scenes … fire … water … the sound of canons in the distance and cries of war and pain and blood lust. Sometimes it sounded like his voice, but when he woke up, the memory would fade and he'd forget what he saw.
Really, the only clue as to who he was then was locked away in another room. One room, which he did not own a key to … well … not one that he knew of. There had also been no way to break down the door, so he decided whatever was behind that door was meant to stay there and stay there it shall. It was like a ghost of his past, a scary unknown ghost that no one, not even France or Prussia would tell him about.
In fact, they froze up with slight fear in their eyes when he ever mentioned or asked about it. It was probably why he had a deep seeded hatred for a certain Brit he knew. Who knew? The only thing that matter to Spain anymore had finally come for another visit after so many years apart.
"So, my Roma~?" Spain smiled brightly, closing the doors to the balcony, "What would you like to do now?"
Romano played with a bright red fruit, not really listening to Spain, nor thinking of anything he wanted to do, "I don't know, jerk … I only came to visit, because my stupid brother forced me to. You can think of something."
The Italian eyed Spain while he put on his thinking face, something Romano blushed at thinking was kind of cute. This only made him scowl more and contemplate throwing the tomato at the man for making him feel confused and angry at everything. So he did.
The tomato smacked Spain in the arm and tumbled to the floor, leaving behind a small wet trail and a few scattered droplets where the skin of the fruit had split and leaked all over the shirt Antonio wore and the floor and coffee table.
"Aw … what was that for, Roma?" Spain frowned, pulling at the tomato stain on his shirt.
"For being a stupid prick who didn't plan ahead for my visit!" Romano quickly yelled, leaning back against the arm of the sofa. His arms folded across his chest and he made his best effort for an intimidating scowl.
Spain pressed his lips into a firm line. He wondered if Romano had always been this mean or if he'd just gotten more bold with his actions. He'd been hit before, but by smaller, less damaging hands. And he'd been hit with tomatoes before, but never had they hit so hard. He brushed it off and slid into the seat next to Romano, slipping his arms around the younger nation's waist and pulled him close.
"Oh, Roma~! I only found out today that you were even coming here! We can watch the stars or walk through the tomatoes, oh! Or we can read a book and curl up together on the floor with the candles as our only light~! Doesn't that sound fun?"
"Fun? That sound like a fucking date, jerk!" Romano blushed darkly and tried to bury his face in the arm of the couch, only to be too late.
Spain laughed lightly and pinched Romano's cheek, "Aw~ Roma looks just like a cute little tomat-"
He was shoved back roughly and Romano rubbed his cheeks, trying to rid himself of the embarrassing blood flow. Spain just chuckled and rubbed his shoulder, gently.
They finally settled into a light conversation about how Italy was doing and how Spain was doing, the actual landmasses and eventually Romano grew tired of it. He stood up and walked around the den for a moment, looking for something.
"What are you looking for, Roma~?" the Spaniard asked, walking up to Romano. The Italian glared, "Just wondering if something is still hear from when I was a kid. I doubt it, since you always bring strange bitches and bastards into your house. One of them was bound to stick around enough to clean, right?"
Spain frowned. On occasion, he could be sexually active, but he hadn't known his ex-ward knew about them. Plus, he had toned it down quite a bit since the last time he'd seen his once small little Roma~.
"Aha!" he shouted, leaning under a chair, pulling out an old wooden ship toy. It was handmade and the paint was really faded and peeled away in most parts.
"What's that?" Spain inquired.
Romano glared, "One of the last toys you'd brought me on your long ass journeys. One day you went fucking ballistic and started throwing shit around, most of them being some of my toys. I hid this one before you ushered me into my room and I was forced to stay there."
Spain frowned. He did not remember this, nor the wooden ship, with a little painted figure lying on the deck.
"You were a fucking jerk that day. God, you came inside the house after what seemed like years away from home and then everything changed. After that night, your crazy ass didn't travel as much." Spain let his brow furrow, still not recalling anything like that.
"I hated you for it. Those toys were the only things you ever brought back for me on those stupids trips. And I never pulled this one out of its hiding spot because I thought your dumb ass would destroy it, too." he glared, running his fingers over the ancient toy.
The Spaniard reached out to touch it, only to have it ripped away from his grasp, "Like hell I'm going to fucking let you touch it now, bastard! I'll kill you first!" he snapped, holding it out of the way. He began walking passed Spain, but tripped, sending the toy ship to the floor, breaking it into four or five pieces. Romano and Spain both stared in horror.
"You … you fucking bastard!" Romano glared, pushing himself off the ground, and turning to meet Spain's gaze, "You did that on purpose!"
"Did what, Roma? I didn't-"
Romano jabbed his finger into Spain's chest roughly, "You tripped me to break it! I have been wanting that thing for centuries and you just had to finish it off! You have to be the most stupid man I know!"
"That's a little harsh …" Spain murmured, looking from Romano to the broken ship. He hadn't tripped Romano …
"I don't give a flying fuck! I hate your fucking guts, you stupid-" jab.
"-fucking-" another jab.
"Romano …" Spain bit his lip, his heart racing and his head began hurting.
"-sadistic-" extra hard jab.
"Romano." he gripped his head and his face clenched in his pain.
"-bastard! You know what? Fuck you. Fuck off. I hope you fucking rot it hell for everything you put me through! I wish you would just drop dead!" he turned to storm out, but a hand grabbed his arm, roughly. He glared and turned to see Spain with a straight face. His eyes were no longer that bright emerald color that lit up the room, but rather a sickly acidic color that stuck fear into Romano's heart.
He trembled lightly, "Let go of me, you sadistic fuck!"
"Sadistic? Why, Romano, I have no idea what you're talking about~" Spain smirked, tilting his head to the side. Romano frowned, an ice cold feeling leaking into his body, running like ice through his veins.
Spain's grip tightened on his arm, causing Romano to yelp in pain, "Let go now!" he hit the Spaniard's hand and tried to pry he vice grip off. However Spain held tight and dragged him to a large painting that had always been in the far end on the den. He grabbed it with his free hand and let it drop to the floor, the frame breaking into several long shards of sharp wood.
On the back of the painting, located under the frame, there was an old tarnished key. Spain yanked Romano around like a rag doll and pushed him to his knees, "Grab it for me, but do not throw it or your fate will be twice as bad."
Romano, shaking, grabbed the key and a flash of rebellion flew through his mind, but the look in Spain's eyes made him think otherwise. He handed the older nation the key and frowned, realizing he had seen this man before. This was the same Spain that had come home that night and had broken all of his toys and taken down many paintings and other things, that all disappeared over night. That was the first, and he'd hoped the last, time he would ever see his former caretaker that angry and vicious.
He was dragged down the hall to a familiar closed door that had not been opened in so long. The key slid in and Spain smirked, jiggling it until the lock turned, "You say I was sadistic? I'll show you sadistic~ You need to learn how to behave, Romano. Such a shame, too … I hate punishing you, but perhaps I was too lenient to begin with and that's why you're so mean and disrespectful. You said some mean things to me and now you have to pay for it. Hopefully, you'll have learned your lesson."
Now the Italian was shaking violently in fear. He was sure his arm was bruised from the way Spain held hip tightly and jerked him around. They went through the door way and Spain coughed lightly at the dust. He lit a torch on the wall, giving the room a very dim glow. He shut and locked the door again. Turning back, he grabbed the torch and used it to light the others in to room.
For the first time in centuries, Romano saw old paintings, now dusty and ruined, of the sea and some of Spain in a brilliant red uniform with his hat. His hair was longer and tied back and his eyes were the same acid color Romano saw now. He bit his lip and looked at the rest of the room, his heart racing in pure fear. So many things he couldn't even begin to describe were shoved in the room.
"I still can't believe I locked myself and this away like that … pity … so many things covered in dust … not that it matters anymore. Once your done with your punishment, you'll see just why everyone feared me on the ocean and sea."
"What the hell bastard? This isn't fucking funny!" Romano hissed, trying one more time to pry the man's hand from his arm. This time, Spain let go, knowing he had the only key to get in or out of the room. As expected, Romano rushed to the door and tried to open it, but it was all in vain. He even tried throwing his weight against it, but cried out in pain when all he did was manage to hurt his shoulder.
"There's only one way out, brat. Now get over here before I get angry … well … angrier than I already am about your off handed comment about my intelligence. For the tomato. For the names. For blaming poor Spain for everything wrong in your pathetic life."
Romano turned and spat at Spain, "Go to hell!"
Spain looked down at his already tomato stained shirt, that now sported Italian spit and sighed, "This shirt cost him a lot, you know?" he pulled it off, revealing the faintly scarred flesh of Antonio's back and abdomen. He opened a chest and grinned, pulling out a very old, off white, slightly bloodstained shirt. He slipped it on and smiled, "Ah~ it feels good to wear this again! Now, you're rubbing some already raw nerves, boy. Remove your shirt this instant." he used his own discarded shirt to dust a few things off until he located what he wanted. He picked it up and saw Romano had yet to remove the button up shirt.
Spain tsked and walked up quickly before slapping Romano across the face. It wasn't very hard, but enough to sting and show how serious Spain was. Romano glared, but still he refused, earning another, slightly harder slap across the other cheek. Spain's hand ran fluidly over the now reddened cheeks, wiping away the tears that were forming in those defiant eyes, "I hate ruining such a cute face, but you're going to have to learn to stop being such a fucking prick to your Boss."
"You're not my fucking b-"
Romano yelped in pain. It was much harder than the first two. He trembled in fear, but removed his shirt and tossed it to the floor.
"Good~ now, it may be a little messy in here, but we'll fix that, won't we. No more 'I don't know's' out of you. I want you to clean this space right here up." he pointed to the wall with his small black, leather stick.
The Italian cursed Spain and walked to the wall and began moving painting, broken toys and various other things that had been tossed into the room. When he finished, sweat poured down his face from the poor air circulation in the room and the fire torches.
Slap! It wasn't as hard as the last one, but Romano's cheeks were already red and sore and swelling from the first several.
"You will not speak unless spoken to. This is something most children learn at a very young age, but you, my boy, seemed to ignore."
Slap! Romano cried out in pain and gripped his cheek. It stung and was hot to the touch. He reared back his fist and slammed it into Spain's face. The man stumbled back and hissed, spitting up a bit of blood onto the wooden floor. Anger coursed through his eyes and he snapped his little stick across Romano's chest. A loud, resounding crack echoed in the room followed by a cry of pain from the Italian.
He, too, stumbled back and bumped into the wall.
"You insolent brat! You will learn respect and you will learn to watch that tongue!" Spain rushed forward and grabbed Romano, turning him around, pushing him up against the wall before lifting his arms and tying them up into the strong frame. His pants were stripped of him too, before his legs tied down.
"This little frame ensures that you do not pull any shit like that again."
Romano felt the tears streaming down his hot cheeks. He shook violently and nodded, biting his tongue to keep the retort in.
"Good. Now let your punishment begin." he reared back his arm as hit Romano in the back with the crop, making Romano scream out in pain, more tears streaming his face. Snap after snap, crack after crack, his back hurt so badly. Not only his back suffered. Occasionally, if he said something or cursed Spain, he was hit on the hip or thigh.
Finally, it came to an end and Romano prayed that he could just leave, that it was all over and that he could run home and never look back on this.
He'd loved Spain … he'd loved him so much … he just … didn't know how to show the man. He was afraid of his heart being ripped out and stomped on. Romano didn't want that … but here he was, being betrayed by the very man he loved.
"Are you done?" Romano whispered, regretting the words immediately after they rolled off his tongue. He wished he could just suck them back in and hope Spain had not heard them.
"Ahahaha … Romano … do you know what I did to men like you on my ship when they back talked or smarted off? Do you know what I did to the crew members who thought they could stand up to me? Do you?" Romano winced, feeling Spain's finger run down the welts on his back, pressing lightly into a particularly painful one.
"N-no …" he muttered.
"Oh, my Romano … I forgot to mention. You will refer to me as Boss or Sir. If not … well … you should know by now the consequence."
"No, Boss …" he muttered again, trying to will the pain to stop or the feeling to come back in his hands. At the very least, he tried to will away the tears.
Spain chuckled again, "Good boy~ now, as I was saying, those who defied me in such awful ways like yours, they were slowly tortured, sometimes in front of the rest of the crew as a warning. I might have tied them to the mast and starved them … taken my favorite jeweled knife and slowly dragged it across their skin, using the flesh as bait for the sharks, which I would force them to … play with …
"I might even have taken them to my private quarters and had my way with them until they couldn't walk, them I'd execute them on the deck. Do you see where I'm going with this?"
Romano bit his lip. He couldn't die, he was a nation. So all he could think of was being kept in the small room and be starved. Then his mind drifted to the last bit. While he couldn't really be killed via cuts, stabs, bullets, that shit hurt like hell and still had to heal properly. However, he could still be torn limb from limb by a hungry shark and then he would officially die, leaving his brother as the whole of Italy.
He shuddered to think of the idea. Then again … Spain also said he had his way with his victims … did that mean? Part of Romano cringed in fear, while another half became excited at the notion of sleeping with Spain … however … he wouldn't necessarily be sleeping with him … just … being taken.
"Well?" Spain asked, his patience wearing thin and his hand aching to continue teaching Romano a lesson.
"No … Boss …" he added quickly, lest he forget and end up in more agonizing pain.
Spain smiled and kicked the frame, turning it around so that Romano was facing Spain now, "You like? I created it like that myself so that I could have easy access to view the pained faces my enemies made when I tortured them. As for you, I don't wish you dead or severely injured, my pet, my little tomato~"
Romano's heart fluttered with the hope that Spain was returning to normal but that was dashed the moment Spain grinned, with those acid eyes glowing under the light of the torches.
"Oh no … You see … Spain has always loved you. You were his … our favorite … but you see, as of late, he's become more desperate for more time with you and he'd hoped this would have been the perfect chance to confess that his love had grown for you and he wanted to all to himself.
"However, you're a spoiled little brat who shows no care for his feelings and how much he loves you. You set him off, love. You found the key to release me~
"Do you know exactly who I am, Romano?" Spain asked, lifted Romano's face to get a good look at his bruised cheeks.
"S-Spain? Boss." he whispered.
"Well, yes … I am España, but you see, I'm more than that~! I was the great Spanish empire, conquistador and pirate and all those wonderful things~ You never truly saw me because of how much you meant, despite your coldness. I never wanted you to know what kind of monster I was and am, but you drew me out again~ I couldn't take what I'd become. I'd been through what I'd put so many other through with that damn English prick and I didn't want it. So I locked all my stuff away and willed my mind to only remember the good, only the good. I forgot about my pirate days, about ravaging beauties like yourself on a daily basis, and became a simple, happy man. Until you ruined that, of course~ I still love and adore you, but I'm going to have to tame you."
He let Romano's head fall forward again as he turned the frame back around. Romano cried and shook harder in fear when he felt the cold, sharp blade press into his side and run, broad side down, over his back. He hissed as the cold metal cooled over his welts and lesions and the knife finally came to rest on his lower back. Spain, in one expert flick, sliced through the thin fabric of his underwear and let the partially torn fabric fall down around his left ankle.
Romano held back the louder sobs as Spain's blade still traveled back up Romano's back, over the rest of the swollen flesh. He smiled and tossed the blade aside and let his hands run over the cuts and welts, "Ah … such a beautiful sight~ a wonderful feeling this is, as well. The hot, burning flesh beneath my touch … your blood covering my hands … oh, Romano …"
His hands wrapped around the front to run his fingers over the Italian's nipples, eliciting a hiss of pleasure from him. Spain chuckled and let his hands travel further south to wrap his hand around Romano's member, slowly raising it up.
"Such a good boy …" Spain groaned, his own erection pressing tightly in his own pants. He wanted the southern half of Italy and he wanted him now, but he also wanted to make Romano beg for it. Romano hissed and moaned softly with each stroke. Spain caressed the sensitive member and nipped the back of the younger nation's neck.
"F-fuck … S-Spain!" he groaned, feeling his stomach pooling with heat. Sweat began forming on his back and chest as he thrust forward into Spain's movement. He no longer cared of the stinging he felt in his back. Just as he was about to feel sweet release, Spain let his stroking halt.
Romano whimpered, "What the hell, bast-Boss?" he bit his tongue, hoping Spain would just let that one slip. His mind was still foggy.
Spain kissed his neck and nipped his ear, making the younger nation moan, "Do you want more, my little tomato?"
Both mind and body screamed yes and he let his head nod, "Yes … B-Boss …" he thrust into Spain's hand again, but whimpered again when Spain let him go completely to lift his fingers to Romano's mouth, "Suck." he commanded.
The Italian took the digits into his mouth. He ran his tongue over them and coated them well, knowing that would make this more comfortable for him. The fingers were removed from his mouth and Spain's hand caressed Romano's opening, circling it slightly before he inserted the first finger.
A moan escaped Romano as Spain massaged his member with the free hand. He slipped the next finger in and continued stretching the Italian nation, preparing him for what was to come next. Spain could tell his next finger was bringing pain to his tomato, but he couldn't bring himself to care as his erection throbbed, waiting for the moment that was fast approaching. He curled his fingers slightly, bringing a loud moan from his Romano.
"There it is~" Spain whispered into Romano's ear. He removed the fingers and pulled his member out, "Do you want me now, Roma~?"
Romano nodded vigorously, his mind and body on fire, "P-please … fuck … just … make it better …"
"What do you say?" he positioned himself at Romano's slick entrance, aching to bury himself deep within him.
"Please, Boss … f-fuck me …"
Spain grinned and grabbed Romano's curl, making him moan loudly as he pushed inside Romano with one thrust, stretching him to his limit. Tears welled up in Romano's eyes, but the pleasure coursing through him because of the curl play quickly took his mind from things. Spain let go of the curl to grab Romano's hips and begin thrusting into him.
"Mm … my little tomato has been such a good boy, keeping himself chaste and pure~" he pressed a soft kiss into Romano's neck and decided to reward his Romano by letting his hand caress him and letting him feel pleasure, too. Romano shivered beneath his touch, but not out of fear this time. He grinned as Romano let his head fall back and he began to let out guttural, throaty moans.
Spain grinned again, aiming himself in a different spot, hitting his Romano's special spot, making Romano cry out.
"Oh … fuck … Spagna!" Romano cried out, his pain momentarily forgotten. Spain sighed and let himself relax a bit more so that he could feel his Romano clench around him and hungrily suck him back in when he pulled out.
He thrust a few more times before Romano moaned out again and spilled his seed all over the floor. Spain gasped and felt his own fire burn as the pressure released. He slid himself out Romano and grinned, wiping himself off with Romano's discarded shirt. He thoroughly enjoyed the sight of his essence mixing with Romano's blood, creating a swirling mixture of white, red and pink.
Romano shuddered, still reeling from his orgasm. The Spaniard grinned and turned Romano's frame around again, cringing at the creaking sound it made. It would need to be oiled.
Their eyes locked and Spain crushed his lips to Romano's tightly in a bruising kiss, "Have you learned your lesson?"
"Y-yes … Boss …" Romano whispered.
Spain grinned, "So you have … or at least I hope … I'd hate to have to punish you again. I don't think we'll be seeing each other again, Romano~ it's been fun~" he untied Romano and let the nation collapse in his arms. Romano wanted to fight out of his grasp, but was too pained, too exhausted to move. His legs were released from their ties and he was left, collapsed, on the wooden floor.
His mind blurred in and out of consciousness. His body was racked with pain. The last thing he heard before passing out was, "O-oh … oh god … Roma? Romano? Romano!"
When Romano awoke, he was lying in Spain's bed, fully dressed, bandages around his waist and back. He tried to sit up, but his body was in too much pain. As much as he hated him, he called out for Spain, "B-Boss!"
He finally forced himself for sit up, pain shooting through his back and backside. There was a glass of water and two Tylenol on the bedside table. He frowned, but drank them down. He pushed out of the bed and hissed in more pain as he made his way downstairs. There was no sign of Spain anywhere and the door to that awful room was shut and hopefully locked. Despite the door being closed, he ran passed it, ignoring the screaming in his body to go back and rest. He ran to the den, walking passed the broken painting and grabbed his shoes, quickly slipping them on.
Tears welled up in his eyes, willing him to get out as soon as possible. He didn't want to run into Spain. He swore he'd find him again, after he healed and beat the living hell out of him for what he did. He finished slipping on his left shoe and looked up to get off the sofa, but found his eyes locked on something on the table. His ship … the one that broke and caused the entire mess, had been glued back together. Small seams were barely seen and Romano gingerly reached out and picked it up.
The paint had been reapplied and even the little figure had been stood back up. A small piece of paper rested on the deck.
Romano grabbed in and read over the words, both anger and sadness welling up inside him.
Nothing, and I mean nothing, will ever excuse what happened. I couldn't even begin to explain what happened. I'm sorry.
The southern half of Italy felt the rage bubble inside him as he raised the ship to smash it on the ground, but stopped. He frowned deeply, but closed his eyes. The mixture of emotions coursed through him and he bit his lip, clutching the toy ship close to his chest. His hazel orbs flew open and he took off, ignoring the pain and soreness that racked his body.
He didn't look back as he ran. Ran from the den. From the house. From Spain.
I can't believe I wrote such a dark fic o.o well ... I'm happy with it, I just hate doing that to poor Romano ... and you know what? I'm inspired to continue this further than a oneshot -_- I really want to make it maybe a two shot ... with a much happier ending? Idk lol anyways, I hope you enjoyed Mochikyan!