Hetalia Oneshots (Book One)

SpaMano: Stubborn As A Mule {Lemon}

Okay, I'll tell you right now, this is the first part of one of my other books, so if you've already read, don't accuse me of stealing because... well, I'm legit just posting it here too.

***

Scowling, Romano sits back into the couch, eyes burning into the television.

His stupid fratello is out with the potato bastard on a date. The blonde had randomly shown up with flowers for Feli, and of course Feli had left with him.

Stupid bastards...

"Lovi! Are you ho~ome?"

Growling, said man slinks as far as he can into the couch cushions.

Of course, Spain of all people!

He hears the front door opening, and Spain easily spots him.

"Ah! Holà Lovino!"

Romano glares at the green eyed male, who's beaming happily at him.

Spain realizes that there's no response from Romano, which is odd, considering he would usually be cussing him out for barging in on him. Smile dissapearing, Spain sits next to Romano, eyes filled with worry.

"Roma? You're okay, sí?"

The small Italian pushes himself up, glaring at the Spaniard.

"No I'm-a not-a fucking okay! Stupid-a Feli left with-a the potato bastard!"

Spain's brows furrow as he watches Romano fume, slouching back into the couch, fingers twitching with pent up anger occasionally.

The beginning of an idea forms in Spain's head as he scoots a bit closer to the feisty brunette.

Making sure the Italians attention isn't on him, Spain slowly lifts his arm, reaching out for Roma's curl.

He has touched it before... and the results were... interesting. Too bad France and Prussia were there to ruin it.

He pinches the base of the curl, running his fingers up it.

As he watches, a flurry of emotions flood over Roma's face in the span of a few seconds, going from pissed, to shocked, to slight fear, but then landing and staying on an unnamable emotion.

His face turns bright red and a small whimper escapes his mouth.

Grinning, Spain slips a hand up Roma's shirt, his lips tracing his jaw bone.

Romano mewls, blushing in embarrassment as Spain toys with a nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, before switching to the other one

"S-Stop you bastar-nnngh!"

Antonio watches as Roma's resolve crumbles a bit.

"You obviously don't want that Lovi."

A loud growl, mixed with a small whimper, escapes Roma's lips as he shoves Antonio back onto the couch.

A flash of guilt crosses Spain's face as he's shoved away, but it quickly turns to shock as Romano climbs on top of him in a straddling position.

"You fucker..."

Romano's little 'insult' comes out in a breathless pant, before he nuzzles his face into Antonio's neck, hands gripping his shirt with desperation.

A small grunt escapes Antonio's mouth as Roma starts grinding down on him.

He can feel Romano's lips against his neck, curling into a grimace.

Roma feels Antonio's chest rumble with laughter as the Spaniards hands grip his ass, making him grind down harder. Both men's bulges grow, Roma whimpering against Spain's neck, and Spain groaning loudly, head thrown back in pleasure.