A/N The dance in the video is not what I was describing, but in case you need a reminder of what flamenco dance and music is I thought it might be helpful. And my apologies to the real Sara Baras. Obviously, the bull ships Spamano.
Their feet flew in a fantastic flurry that stepped in perfect time with the music. His hands clapped and snapped as she spun and whipped her skirt with great flourish. Together they gave a simply mesmerizing presentation of flamenco dancing but when the song would end and she would spin into his arms Romano had lost his patience.
"Are you done yet, bastard?"
"Roma!" Spain jumped off the stage and into his arms, planting a big kiss on him.
"Alright, get off of me. You're all sweaty." He didn't really mind the sweat as much as the over the top display of affection.
"Sorry, Roma." Said Spain, letting him go, "I'm just so excited that you came to see me dance."
"Well, I have been helping you practice for the past 3 months, haven't I?"
"That's right! You haven't met my partner yet? Señora!" Spain waved to the woman still on the stage talking to the manager. She excused herself and came down off the stage where Spain made the introduction.
"Roma, this is Señora Sara Baras. She came out of retirement just for the festival. Sara, I'd like you to meet the one who has been helping me practice."
"Oh, Romanito!" She giggled.
Now Romano had pretended not to listen to Spain's Spanish lessons but that was too obvious to ignore and he shot a glare at Spain who just gave him a sheepish smile.
"Nice to meet you."
"Yeah, yeah. You too." Said Romano curtly.
Sara said something in Spanish and Romano understood that as well but he waited for Spain to translate.
"She said that she was going to be joining the running of the bulls and wanted to know if you would be." Explained Spain.
"No way! I'm not going to run through the street like a mad man with a bunch of wild blundering beasts chasing me!" Romano raged.
Spain looked back at Sara to translate. "No."
"Ah, I see." Sara giggled, "Excuse me, but I have to go. Adiós!"
"Adiós, señora!" called Spain, waving good bye.
Romano took Spain's hand, "Let's go. I want to get going before the streets get too crowded."
Spain smiled, skipping alongside him for a while before glomping on to Romano with a big bear hug.
"Cazzo! What was that for!" exclaimed the startled Italian.
"Nothing. You were just so cute. I couldn't help myself."
"Well, try to contain yourself. We are in public after all."
"Sorry, I'm just excited!"
"Why? You hold this festival every year."
"Yeah, but this year Roma is here."
"I'm just here to keep you from killing yourself running with those stupid bulls." Romano declared, trying to hide the pink tint that had appeared on his cheeks.
"Aww, are you worried about me?"
"Now, why would I do-a stupid thing like that?"
"Because you love me." Said Spain in a know-it-all voice.
"Now see, this is why I don't tell you things!"
"Aww... But I love you too, Roma!" said Spain, taking Romano in a hug.
"Get off, idiota!" Yelled Romano, turning completely red.
The two continued to wander the streets of Pamplona, enjoying the food and entertainment, but avoided the running of the bulls at Romano's request. Spain didn't mind, he'd seen it many times, and for Romano he would be willing to miss it.
They were getting lunch when someone came running up to them.
"España!" The panicked man called. He began to anxiously explain something to Spain whose normally cheery expression became worried.
They exchanged back and forth in Spanish while Romano pretended not to understand what they were saying. After some more explaining, Spain asked a question. The man shook his head and Spain looked a bit relieved. With a few nods and confirmations, the man turned back to where he came.
"What was that about, idiota?"
"Um, they had to cancel some of the performances for tonight. There was an overbooking. So I won't be dancing tonight. I'm sorry, Roma."
"Fanculo! After all the work I put into helping you!"
"Lo siento." Said Spain sadly, sitting back down. "There is no getting out of it. We can still enjoy the festival, though."
Romano grumbled. "Fine. Just go get me another churro."
"Sure thing!" said Spain, jumping up to go get the churro, happy that Romano wasn't mad at him.
Romano watched him go then took out his phone and speed dialed the second number. If he didn't remember the fight he put up learning it, the Spaniard's ignorance of Romano's fluency in Spanish would be insulting. He knew what was going on.
"Ciao, Fratello!" Said the bubbly Italian on the other end.
"Ciao. Veneziano, do you think you can get to Spain's in the next hour?"
"Si. Is everything okay?"
"Yeah. I just need a favor and you're the only one I trust to do it."
"Yay! Big brother Romano needs me!"
"Calm down, idiota. Just get over here."
"I'll be their faster than you can boil pasta! Ciao!" With that the line went dead and Romano hung up the phone in time for Spain to come back with their churros. "Veneziano is coming."
"Ita?" Spain questioned, sitting back down across from Romano, "I thought you didn't want him to come along?"
"Yeah well, he called and sounded so pathetic, so I just let him come." Romano lied, accepting the churro he had forgot he had asked for. "What is this?"
"You asked for a churro."
"Oh. Yeah."
"That was nice of you, to look out for your brother like that."
"I wasn't looking out for him!"
"Sure you weren't, Roma." Spain chuckled to himself.
For the time being Romano went along with Spain's story that they had overbooked performers for tonight's show. He waited until just an hour before the show to say that Italy had texted him and said he was lost, so they split up to "Look for him."
Spain looked for Italy in the crowd when he heard the Italian call his name.
"Italia!" said Spain as Italy skipped over to him, "There you are. We've been looking for you."
"I know. Romano sent me to come get you. We have-a big surprise for you!"
"Surprise? For me? What—!" Spain wasn't able to finish the sentence before Italy was pulling him away toward the stage where the show that Spain was supposed to be in was starting.
"No peeking." Said Italy, covering Spain's eyes as he pulled him behind the stage where the performers were getting ready, "Okay. Open!"
Spain quickly opened his eyes to a beautiful dancer in an elegant red flamenco dress, or so he thought anyway, until he looked closer.
"R—Romano?"
"Of course it's me, you dumb bastard!" He yelled and Spain laughed. Yep, that was Romano, but it was hard to tell. He was wearing the dress Sara had left in her dressing room, they were about the same size that's why he made a good practice partner, and had used make-up to smooth out his features. After pulling back his mid length hair, even clipping it with one of Spain's paper flowers, and padding out the dress a bit, from the stage there was no way to tell he was a boy.
"You look beautiful, Roma, but why are you dressed like that?"
"I know that nut got herself hurt running with those stupid bulls and left you without a dance partner."
"Aww Roma! You dressed up for me!" Exclaimed Spain, running over to hug him.
"I'm just not letting all my hard work go to waste!" Romano insisted, before Spain bent him back to give him a kiss befitting of the country of passion. In a post kiss daze Romano had forgotten what he was yelling about and merely ordered, "Go get dressed. The show's already started."
"Si. Gracias, Romano." Said Spain and he started to leave.
"Spain!" Called Italy after him and he stopped to turn around. "You have some of Fratello's lipstick on you." Italy snickered.
"Oh! Gracias, Italy." Said Spain, wiping off the bright red make-up, "I'm not used to that. Adios!"
Spain ran off and changed into his costume just in time to meet Romano on deck. The Italian was waiting off stage, looking out anxiously at the crowd gathered.
"Nervous, mi amor?" Said Spain, walking up behind him.
"Nervous? Why would I be nervous?" Romano argued, but his expression said different.
"You shouldn't be. I know you will do very well Roma." Said Spain, pulling the almost trembling Italian into his arms and planting a small kiss on his forehead, knowing better than to kiss his lips this time. Romano took a moment to savor the touch, closing his eyes as he felt Spain's soft lips press against his skin. A warm feeling washed over him and he forgot all about the crowd outside, the only thing in the world to him right now were those sparkling green eyes he was looking into right now.
They hadn't realized that the crowd and stage had gone silent until a set of castanets rang out on stage and they knew that was their cue.
Spain leaned in and whispered into his ear, "Mueve ese cuerpo lindo, y no se detenga." With that he marched on stage.
He took several measured steps, then as the guitars suddenly strummed he spun around, hand out stretched to his partner who danced onto the stage. He clapped his hands and Romano took a step forward, he clapped again and took a step. They went back and forth until they were almost touching, then Spain put an arm around Romano, running his fingers down his bare back. Romano suddenly spun away whipping his skirt as his feet stamped to the beat of the music.
Spain tapped his feet, interrupting the beat Romano had been keeping and the music changed its pace. Drawing his arms above his head, his well-timed feet tapped out the rhythm. Following suit Romano raised his arms above his head, tapping in sync as he spun, the skirt flowing out around him.
They began to come together, arms elegantly dancing about them until they interlocked around the others waist, and looking into each other's eyes they twirled around quickly, before bolting up right with a clap of the hand.
Romano clutched the billowing skirt with one hand and tossed it about. Taking a half step to the right and Spain to the left, then Romano to the left and Spain to the right, back and forth, quickening their pace, until suddenly stepping to the other's side. After several dramatic steps, Romano spun in to Spain's arms and fell back onto his chest as the band silenced.
Roars of applause erupted from the audience. The two looked at each other, panting breathlessly, a bright smile glowed on their faces. They separated, smiling out at the audience, and gave a modest bow and a wave before walking off stage.
"Well, I'm never doing that again!" Romano grumbled as they walked through the door to Spain's house, "I'm exhausted!" He stumbled into the living room and collapsed on the couch. Spain walked in but snickered at the sight of the flattened Italian, with his poorly removed make-up and messed up hair. "What are you laughing at, bastard?"
"You know, you looked very bonito tonight, Romano." Said Spain, sitting beside him on the couch, "But I love you just like this." He gently wiped a bit of make-up from his cheek then leaned in to kiss him. Romano leaned in, delicately cupping Spain's face in his hands to deepen the kiss.
Parting slowly, they whispered,
"Te amo, Roma."
"Ti amo, Spain."