You have absolutely NO idea how fun this was to write! Also, SPAMANO PORN AWWW YEAH. There's more where that came from, baby. ;o Now, without further ado, enjoy and review!


Romano was going to die.

He didn't know why he hadn't realized it, that when his boss called him home for a meeting that he would also be calling Veneziano. He practically lived with that muscle head Germany anyways (the fact that Romano spent more nights at Spain's house rather than his own was completely unrelated), so he was caught by surprise when he and Spain found Veneziano and Germany already settled in the Italians' home, watching some horrendous romantic comedy and stinking up the house with the scent of wurst and beer.

"Welcome home, fratello, big brother Spain!"

"Hola, Veneziano! Romano didn't tell me you two were going to be here."

"That's because they weren't supposed to be here," Romano seethed, eyes spewing venom at a certain potato-loving asshole. "What are you two idiots doing here?"

Veneziano smiled that half-wit smile of his, replying happily, "There's a meeting tomorrow! I didn't know you would be here, though."

Romano rolled his eyes. "Where else would I be?"

"I thought you'd be at Spain's house," he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Wh-Why would I be there?"

"Because you live there—"

"I do not!" Romano's screech made the other three flinch, more than a little grating on the ears.

"Anyway," Veneziano continued, "I'm going to make some pasta after the movie's over. Would you want some?"

"Of course, idiot."

. . .

Romano nearly shrieked when he felt a wet tongue trail up his neck, following his jawline all the way to his ear. On instinct he tried to wriggle away to the other side of the bed, groaning in frustration when Spain wrapped his arms around his waist to hold him in place. "Cut it out, bastard!" he hissed quietly, fearing that Veneziano might hear their conversation through the wall.

"But I want my Roma so bad," Spain whispered, the low and husky quality of his voice making Romano's face heat and muscles tense.

"Well 'your Roma' isn't going to do shit with you, so let go!" He tried to force Spain away by pushing at his face, his eyes narrowing in agitation when he felt Spain grin against his palm. "I'm telling you to stop it!"

Spain let one hand slide down to squeeze Romano's ass, eliciting a strangled sound of embarrassment from him. "It's no use playing hard-to-get…" he purred, using Romano's moment of distraction to push away the hand on his face so he could lean in and nibble on his earlobe.

"I'm not playing hard-to-geahhhn…" His tirade was interrupted by a particularly rough nip on Spain's part, causing Romano to blush as his blood rushed somewhere south. That was the last of his tolerance, and with an aggravated "fuck it" he smashed their lips together, kissing Spain long and hard. Once they separated, out of breath and far too turned on for their own good, Romano commanded, "We have to be quiet though."

He received a pout in return. "Why? I like it when you scream my name and beg for me to fuck you so hard you won't be able to get up in the morning."

"Because," he ground out, trying to banish the heat that Spain's words provoked. "Veneziano's in the other room, and he can't know we're having sex. He'd be tainted forever."

Spain frowned in confusion. "'Tainted'? Why would he be tainted?"

"He's too innocent! H-He probably doesn't even know how gay sex works! And that German fucker is too emotionally stunted to even try. I'm not going to let his purity be ruined because you're fucking making me—making me…"

"Beg for Boss to put his dick in you?"

"Yes… I mean no! What makes you think I want your cock?" Spain's "pfff" was followed by Romano slapping his arm, glare poisonous as he continued. "Fuck you, asshole. Now what are we going to do?"

"Well," Spain mused, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he suggested in a bedroom-sweet whisper, "maybe we can find something else for your mouth to do…"

. . .

Germany wasn't entirely sure what to do. When he and Veneziano got into bed that night, he assumed they would go straight to sleep. After all, the Italies had a meeting with their boss tomorrow, and Romano and Spain were right next door. Surely Veneziano wouldn't want to have sex.

But then Veneziano started touching him.

He had started off subtly, the usual cuddling and burying his face into Germany's chest, and placing a kiss on it. Germany had thought that was the end of it. But then there was another kiss. And another. And another. Veneziano was making a trail of kisses all the way to his lips, and the hands wandering over his chest soon found their way to his groin.

"V… Veneziano. What are you doing?"

"Touching you, silly!"

"But…"

"Don't you want to make love to me?"

Of course he did. "But the walls," Germany pressed, "aren't they thin?"

"Oh. We can't have sex then."

That was the exact opposite of what Germany had been hoping for. He'd expected Veneziano to say something like "It's okay, Germany! We just have to be a little quieter than usual~!" and make Germany forget about propriety and indulge his desires. He tried to not sound disappointed as he asked, "Why not?"

Veneziano shot him a quizzical look. "Didn't you just say we shouldn't?"

"Yes, well, I did, but that's because you usually… because you… You've never cared if someone heard us before now."

Veneziano gave a hum of understanding. "That's true, but…" he paused, most likely trying to come up with a way to explain himself. "Romano's different."

That was intriguing. "In what way?"

"Romano's a really devoted Catholic, even if he doesn't usually act like it, and he always goes to mass, he doesn't even sleep in and accidentally miss it like I do, and he gets really embarrassed whenever anyone talks about sex, and I think he's too shy and innocent to bring it up with big brother Spain even though I'm pretty sure Spain wants to have sex with Romano." Veneziano stopped to take a huge breath of air. "That's why we can't have sex."

Judging by the way Spain and Romano interacted coupled with the heated glances the two sometimes shared, Germany was fairly certain the two were going at it like wild animals almost every night. Then again, Germany was known to be quite inept in terms of social situations, so Veneziano may very well have been correct.

Still, he had reservations about having sex. These, however, were quickly leaving him the more he thought about it. "W-We… if we're quiet as we usually are, it should be fine."

Veneziano pondered this for a moment before nodding his consent. "Okay! If Germany says so, then it's probably true."

And so it began.

. . .

Spain was a bastard.

Despite all protests to the contrary, Spain somehow knew that Romano loved sucking his cock, and that smug little smile he was wearing made Romano want to bite him in retaliation.

Except Spain would like that, that sick fuck. And then Spain would get rough and flip Romano around and fuck him so hard he wouldn't be able to go to the meeting, and these were not the kind of thoughts he wanted to indulge while sucking Spain's dick!

Even so, Romano was unable to stop the moan from leaving his lips, loving the way Spain's erection pulsed in his mouth, the taste of precum as it dripped onto his tongue. Spain hummed his approval, fisting his hands in Romano's hair as he whispered over and over, "So good, Roma, so good… So good with your mouth…" and proceeded to pull on Romano's curl, a loud moan leaving his lips.

Shit.

. . .

Instantly, Germany stopped his teasing of Veneziano's nipples, straining his ears to catch the noises coming from the other room.

"Was… Was that a moan?"

"No," Veneziano reassured, "It was probably just big brother yawning."

"But what about the mumbling, and I think I hear sheets rustling as well."

Veneziano concentrated on the noises for a moment. "I think Spain is talking in his sleep. Romano told me he does that sometimes. And that's probably Romano stealing the sheets. He does that whenever we sleep together. I always wake up cold." There was a pout in Veneziano's voice when he said this, no doubt remembering all the unpleasant experiences he'd had sleeping with his brother. "Just keep going, Germany…"

After one last glance at the wall, Germany continued.

. . .

Their movements were getting frantic, Spain practically mouth-fucking Romano as Romano sucked and was jerking himself off, desperate for release. His erection was burning in his hand, slick and hard, and with a muffled, barely-suppressed cry he came into his hand. Even in Romano's exhaustion, Spain continued thrusting in and out of his mouth, cock throbbing at the sight of Romano's flushed face and lust-filled eyes, mouth continuing to work wonders on him. With a strained grunt Spain came hard into Romano's waiting mouth, pleasure overwhelming him as Romano milked him through his orgasm and swallowed his cum.

His breathing was ragged as he pulled out, settling back on the bed and drawing Romano to his chest. In his post-coital haze Romano snuggled Spain, unresisting when Spain pulled him into a sweet, lazy kiss. Spain could taste himself on Romano's tongue, and when he pulled away he had the most adoring grin on his face. "I love you, Roma."

"Yeah, yeah, love you too, bastard. Now go to sleep."

The couple had almost drifted off to sleep when a loud banging came from the room next to them, something roughly thudding against the wall. The sound persisted, and Romano's eyes widened as he whispered to Spain, "Oh my God, that German freak is trying to kill Veneziano!"

Without another thought, Romano leaped from bed, ignoring Spain's "Wait, Roma, that might not—" and dashing to the door. Spain followed, both completely naked as they ran to the door of Veneziano's room, throwing it open.

"What the fuck are you doing to fratello, you son of a bitch!"

. . .

Germany had never been very gentle during sex. He himself was quiet, not one for loud moans and groans, but when it came to the actual penetrating he was rather… rough. More often than not, his and Veneziano's sex resulted in dented walls from the bedframe ramming into it over and over again, and the paint behind his bed at home had worn because of it. He had never realized just how loud it was, though, until Romano threw open the door and began yelling.

Time seemed to stop as Romano and Spain stared (one furiously, the other uncomprehendingly) at the scene, and Germany could do nothing but stare right back, mortified beyond belief.

And all-too-suddenly, time resumed, reality crashing down on them. Romano was sputtering with rage, unable to finish any sentences, and Spain just looked incredibly embarrassed. Germany didn't know how to react to this situation he found himself in.

Luckily, Veneziano did.

"Spain, why are you and big brother naked?"