smutty hetalia one-shots [Spamano]

Bed and Breakfast (Literally)

Hey, look, I'm not dead.

This was requested by    SuicidalQueenRules who has deemed my story worthy to be read. Thank you.

Sorry for the really random hiatuses that I keep putting you on.

Writing this shit is hard (no pun intended) and I'm surprised so many fucking people like it omg.

Y'all a bunch of sinners.

This takes place right before North and South Italy became one country, so around March 1861.

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ALSO, ROMANO'S POV *loud, angry screaming*

I peeled my eyes opened and stared at the ceiling above me.

My life fucking sucked.

I rolled over and played over the events of the previous day in my head, curling up into a ball to hide the deep guilt in my gut.

Yesterday, the stupidity that is the country of Spain told me I'm no longer under his control.

Yesterday, he told me I was going to live with Veneziano.

Yesterday, he told me that he hoped we could be friends, not a father/son thing anymore.

Yesterday, I went to my room and cried.

Yesterday, I said (to myself, dammit) I would tell him the truth.

I ripped off the covers, and padded down to the kitchen. I kicked open the door and stared out the window. The tomatoes plants were all ripe and ready to picked. I made a metal note to ask Spain about doing that tomorrow...

I was leaving this afternoon.

A shiver ran up my spine. I always thought I hated Spain. But after hitting the dreadful growing up period (known as "puberty") I saw Spain in a different light.

And not one I'm entirely proud of.

The door creaked and Spain bounced in, wearing nothing but a pair of pants. Heat flared up on my cheeks, all the way down to my neck. He tipped his head at me. "Roma?"

I glared right back. "Haven't you people ever heard of closing the goddamn door?"

Spain gave me a funny look and shut the door behind him. "Are you okay?

I heaved a sigh and pushed him against the wall. "There's something I want to tell you...." I trailed off, bitting my lip.

Spain nodded. "What is it?" I could feel his breath on my forehead.

I tipped my head up and presses my lips against his. He gave a muffled gasp before I pulled myself away, blushing harder then before.

I turned to leave, but the idiot grabbed my arm and pulled me back. "What?" I demand.

"Why did you do that?"

I scoffed. "Because that's just who I am this week!"

Confusing licked across his face. "That doesn't make any sense!"

"While neither do you, you fucking bastard!! Do you know how long I've wanted to do that?"

Spain swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Wait, WHAT?"

I shrugged. "Ever since I looked like I was twelve..."

"That was two fucking centuries ago!!"

I groaned. Spain didn't swear much (if at all) and each time he did, it sent heat down straight my back.