Romano Holiday

It seemed to most people that Romano was always in a foul mood. Those that knew him best, however, could tell you that the southern Italian had quite a variety of moods, usually some degree of angry, but at other times, extremely cheerful. The scowl and annoyed twitching of his eye could disappear the moment he started flirting with a pretty girl. He would not have nearly as many tourists if he could not welcome them with at least a smile and an invitation to enjoy the rich culture of his land. Even if he was alone, as long as no one was bothering him or giving him a reason to stress about anything, the Italian was typically pleasant, or at least neutral. He actually enjoyed the company of others most of the time, though his face declined to show it except those few moments he forgot that he was grinning.

Today was nothing like that though. There was something very wrong with Romano, and anyone could tell it was so. Because while the Italian could be outwardly happy and excited when he was in a very good mood, today he was just ecstatic. The Italian was practically bouncing off the walls and no one knew why. Just the day before, he had been completely normal- he had yelled at Spain in the morning for burning breakfast, spent the afternoon tending the tomatoes in his garden, and in the evening, he had called Veneziano on the phone and argued with him about the vacation they had planned together with their respective boyfriends to Argentina. His brother had made him so angry after talking about what the fucking Potato Bastard wanted to do and how maybe we should change the itinerary so we can do more of what he wants and less of what you wantthat Romano had told him to fuck off and hung up the phone abruptly. And then when Spain had tried to comfort him and coax him into bed for some sweet lovemaking, Romano, still in a horrible mood, had kicked him out of the room, locked the door, and forced him to sleep on the couch, an act he later regretted since sex would have been the perfect distraction, but this was realized too late, and of course, once Romano had rejected it, he couldn't make himself take it back. Typical night.

But today…Today was nowhere near typical. No sooner had Spain opened his eyes and groaned in pain from the crooks in his back and neck that he found himself suddenly smothered by an affectionate Italian who had launched himself on top of him and was now snuggling him relentlessly. The Spaniard almost blurted out "Veneziano?" before the man on top of him turned his familiar amber gaze towards him with a bright smile and chirped his name happily.

"Toni!"

The man under him froze. Romano never called him Toni. Never, given one exception- when the two of them were in the heat of passion and the Italian was moaning it beneath him as the Spaniard pleasured his body, kissing and tasting and loving every inch of him. It always gave Spain chills to hear him utter his nickname with so much lust in his voice, but for him to say it like this,so happy and casual, just felt wrong.

"Lovi? Are you okay?" Spain asked, concern spread across his features. The Italian just laughed.

"Of course I am! Why wouldn't I be? Except for the fact that I had to sleep alone. I'm sorry about last night. I don't know what was wrong with me! I can make it up to you now if you have the energy. I can think of a couple of ways…"

The Italian grinned at him slyly with a look in his eyes that both fascinated and terrified Spain. It held the promise of things that words could never do justice, that had to be felt and experienced before they could be understood. Romano was offering to take him on a journey he wouldn't soon forget, and all he had to do was rise up off this couch and-

"U-um…how about breakfast first?" the Spaniard asked with a nervous smile.

He didn't know why, but something about this was just too strange for him. The look on Romano's face was almost predatory, and even though the Italian liked to get aggressive and even dominate him sometimes, Spain couldn't help but feel like he was looking at a different person at the moment.

Romano's face fell, eyes clouded with disappointment, but he soon recovered and nodded eagerly, rolling off the Spaniard and practically skipping to the kitchen.

"Alright! I'll help."

Spain stared at him, baffled, as the Italian started taking out pans and setting things on the counter. Romano was helping with breakfast of his own free will? The Spaniard tried to comprehend this, but his mind remained muddled and confused. Why was his lover acting this way? Had he taken some kind of medication or eaten something bad? A long list of possibilities started forming in the Spaniard's head ranging from a spell cast by some crazy wizard of joyfulness (fusososososo!) to an imposter dressed up in Romano's exact image. Or maybe Romano had just decided to give his usual attitude a vacation. Spain shook his head. This wasn't something the Italian would just do on a whim. Something had to be affecting him, and the Spaniard was determined to find out just what it was. He rose from the couch and went to stand next to his lover.

"Lovi, are you feeling alright?" he asked, pushing back his bangs and pressing a hand to the Italian's forehead.

Romano blinked back at him for a moment before smiling, the blush and angry frown that should have been present nowhere in sight.

"Yes, I'm great! Better than I've been in a long time," he replied.

He took Spain's hand and planted a kiss on his palm. Now it was the Spaniard who was blushing.

"Lovino…?" he asked uncertainly and was suddenly pulled into a surprisingly strong embrace.

"Antonio," the Italian purred, nuzzling into his neck. "I love you so much."

Spain gasped and felt himself growing quickly sentimental. He had always dreamed of the day the bad-tempered Italian would say those words to him, to lavish him openly with as much love and affection as Spain himself gave to him on a daily basis, to tell him how much he cared about him without looking like the words were painful to say or that he had had to fight with himself to get them out.

"I love you," he repeated with ease, kissing Spain's neck and cheek.

"Lovi," Spain choked, wrapping his arms around the slighter man. "I love you too."

It was barely a whisper. The Spaniard was trying to keep himself from crying and still felt extremely confused, but he couldn't help but smile as his heart ached in happiness and desperate hope. Did Romano really mean it? Was it really him talking or just the affect of this…drug? Maybe those were the words the Italian had been dying to tell him this whole time but had never found the courage to admit before now even though Spain had always known they had been true.

They held each other for a moment, Romano's hands sliding up and down Spain's back, rubbing small circles here and there and gripping onto his shirt until the Spaniard finally pulled away, gesturing to the ingredients the Italian had laid on the counter.

"Let's get started, shall we?" he asked, and Romano nodded in response.

"Yes!"

He and Spain began cooking, putting together a hearty breakfast that neither of them were really accustomed to having. Romano prepared eggs and sausage while Spain brewed some coffee and made toast before cutting up some fruit. They laid everything out on the table and sat down together, Spain peeking curiously over his coffee cup as Romano smiled back at him warmly.

"So then," Spain started, trying to choose the right phrasing. "What has you in such a good mood today?"

Romano shrugged.

"I just figured it was time to start letting people know how I really feel," he responded, taking a sip from his own cup. "It doesn't do me any good to keep pushing people away. I just end up lonely and angrier than before, so today, I thought I'd try a new approach."

He nodded, as if he was confirming this answer with himself. Spain still wasn't convinced. He had known Romano for centuries and centuries and never once in all that time had he seen a change as dramatic and sudden as the personality change his lover had seemed to adopted overnight. He didn't know what was wrong with the Italian, but he was sure he didn't believe it was just a change of heart.

There was no lovemaking after breakfast because as soon as the two had finished their meal, the doorbell rang.

"Who could that be?" Spain wondered aloud and went over to answer it.

When he opened the door, he found Veneziano standing on his tomato-printed welcome mat ("Bienvenido!") with a nervous smile on his face.

"H-hi, big brother Spain! Is Romano home?"

"Veneziano! What a surprise! Yes, he's here. Come on in."

The northern Italian took a small step through the doorway and was immediately assaulted by the southern half of his country. Veneziano let out an unmanly squeak of terror, knowing for sure that the speed and force with which his brother was closing his arms around him meant for sure that death was close at hand, especially after the fight they had had last night. He had come here to reconcile with the other Italian, but it didn't look like his older sibling was going to give him a chance. Veneziano closed his eyes tightly, waiting for the killing blow, when suddenly he felt the soft touch of Romano kissing him on both cheeks.

"F-fratellone?" he gasped as his big brother beamed at him.

"Vene!" Romano greeted, squeezing his brother tighter. "It's so good to see you!"

"Are you…Are you drunk?" the northern Italian questioned, cocking his head to one side and furrowing his brows. "It's too early for that, fratellone!"

"I'm not drunk, silly!" Romano chuckled. "Is it really that strange for me to show my favorite brother a little affection?"

"F-for youit is…I mean-!" Veneziano flinched, expecting an angry blow that never came. "I'm sorry! Don't hit me!"

Romano stared back at him.

"I wasn't going to."

"But aren't you-?" the other Italian started, looking very lost. "Aren't you still mad at me about last night?"

"Last night? Oh, yes!" Veneziano tried to pull away to avoid his brother's wrath, but Romano continued to hold onto him, still not looking the least bit angry. "No, no, it's alright! I'm over it!" the older man reassured him. "We can do whatever you want! I'm sure it'll be a fun vacation no matter what!"

His younger brother stopped struggling now, staring at Romano as if he had just grown another head.

"You're okay with going the places Ludw- er, Germany wants?"

"Sure, why not? It's his vacation too, after all! We'll all have plenty of fun together."

He looked confused when his brother screamed again.

"Fratelloneeeeee!" Veneziano wailed. "What's wrong with you? You're scaring me!"

Romano sighed and let go of his brother, a troubled look on his face replacing the friendly one. He was silent for a moment as he thought to himself, glancing between his frightened brother and Spain who was still watching the two with a dumbfound expression on his face.

"I'm sorry," he said finally. "Maybe I have been acting a little too strange for you. I'll try to tone it down a bit."

With that, he turned back to head to the kitchen, intentionally brushing against Spain along the way. The Spaniard just stared after him, not even noticing when Veneziano crept to his side and started whispering to him.

"Has he been like that all day?"

"Yes…" he replied hesitantly. "And he hasn't sworn once. Any idea about what might have happened?"

Veneziano shook his head.

"I really don't know. But maybe…Maybe it's not so bad? I always wished Romano would be nicer to me for once."

He shuffled his feet restlessly, looking in the direction his older brother had gone.

"Maybe we should try to enjoy it while it lasts," the Italian said finally.

Spain nodded slightly, but still, he couldn't bring himself to agree completely. It wasn't as if he didn't appreciate seeing a softer side to the Italian. He couldn't stop himself from thinking of that moment they had hugged in the kitchen, but Romano's odd behavior was still making him uncomfortable, and no matter what he did, Spain found it difficult to accept the change. But, he supposed, until Romano was back to normal, he was going to have to try.

As the afternoon went on, Spain and Veneziano gradually grew used to the southern Italian's new demeanor. Romano wasn't as touchy-feely as he had been earlier in the day, but he was still pleasant, smiling at the other two and talking with them without fussing or scowling. Before long, his brother and lover began to feel less like they were spending time with a stranger and more like they were with a Romano who was actually enjoying their company and not afraid to show it. Romano laughed and smiled longer than he ever had before in either of their living memories. He complimented them and joked with them and occasionally threw an affectionate glance at Spain, who noticed that he was giving Veneziano almost the same amount of attention except in a less flirty way.

At last it was time for the northern Italian to head home. The trio cleaned up after dinner and went to see Veneziano off at the door.

"Bye, Fratellone," he said. "I hope you and big brother Spain have a good night."

"You too," Romano said, giving his brother a hug and peck on the cheek. "Come visit again soon."

The other Italian nodded happily, and he waved goodbye to Spain over Romano's shoulder before turning around and making his way out the door to his car. Romano closed the door behind him and walked over to Spain, wrapping his arms around him and holding him close.

"Just you and me now," he whispered, his voice warm and seductive. "Shall we go to bed?"

Spain gulped.

"S-sure, Roma," he replied, using his other nickname for him.

Romano froze for a second, his eyes widened in what seemed like panic for a moment before he let out a calming sigh and his smile returned. He took Spain by the hand and led him back to the bedroom.

Once the door had closed, Spain found himself being pushed back towards the bed by a rather aggressive Italian. He stumbled in surprise and feel down onto the soft mattress. Romano climbed on top of him and captured his lips, kissing him with such passion that the Spaniard had rarely seen before.

"Mm, Toni," Romano murmured as he continued to ravage his lips. "Ti amo."

"Te amo tambien, Lovi," Spain replied, reaching up to run his hand over the Italian's hair.

Romano began unbuttoning the Spaniard's shirt, still kissing him all the while and only stopping to take a short breath now and then. When he had finished undressing Spain's top half, he sat up, pulled off his own shirt and leaned in close, stroking his lover's cheek.

"I'm going to make such sweet love to you," he purred. "Anything you want, any way you want. I want to show you how much I love you. It'll be so much better than the first time we-"

Romano never got to finish that sentence, because the next thing he knew, he was toppling onto the mattress next to Spain as the other pushed him off roughly. The Southern Italian blinked in confusion and stared at his lover who was on his feet now and glaring down at him angrily.

"You! Who-? Who ARE you?" he demanded.

The Italian furrowed his brows.

"I'm Romano," he answered, sounding hurt. "You know that."

"No," the Spaniard said, "you're not. You're not myRomano."

The other man met his gaze wordlessly, sitting up on the bed and frowning before letting out a disappointed sigh and rubbing the back of his neck.

"What makes you think that?"

"Because," Spain growled. "The Romano I know would never act the way you do. He would never decide to just change suddenly and try acting like a different person even if he thought it would make things better. He wouldn't pull himself out of his comfort zone just to try something different or please people, and" he added, pausing for emphasis, "he would never bring up the first time we made love. It was a disaster, and he made me swear to never talk about it again."

Romano laughed, shaking his head.

"Yes, I remember that. Who would have thought someone of my own blood could be so awkward in bed? Oh, well…I guess everyone has to start somewhere. And I've seen so much improvement since then."

"Wha-?"

The Spaniard gaped as the man in front of him suddenly dropped down to the bed, a spirit rising from him in a mostly transparent form before standing up and solidifying before him. Spain took a step back and stared wide-eyed at none other than the Ancient Roman Empire.

"Surprised?" the man laughed. "Well, I suppose you should be. You may have figured out something wasn't quite right, but I'm sure you weren't expecting me."

"R-rome," Spain stammered. "You were…inside Romano's body?"

"Well, of course! And don't make it sound so dirty. This boy is my own flesh and blood. A part of me will always live on within him. It's just a matter of channeling the right energy."

He turned around to pat the head of the sleeping South Italy with a fond smile on his face. Spain still couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"You possessed your grandson? But why?"

Rome turned back to give Spain a sad look.

"I thought I could make his life better. I didn't get to spend much time with Romano when he was young, but I've been watching over him all these centuries, and I couldn't help but think that the poor boy doesn't smile as much as he should or really express himself. But still," he added, sitting down on the bed and looking up at the other man, "I can tell he's happy with you. He really does love you- Veneziano, too. He's just not so good at showing it…so I thought I'd give him a little help. However, it seems like my plan has backfired." He grinned sheepishly. "I should have known better than to try and fool you. You know Romano better than anyone, even his own brother. Maybe even better than…me."

He hummed as he stroked his grandson's hair, eyes full of regret.

"I wish I could have had more time with him. I feel like he never got anywhere near as attached to me as he did to you. He'll probably hate me for what I made him do today. And what I almost did to you."

Spain frowned nervously and his face paled, as if he had been caught cheating.

"Will he remember?"

Rome shook his head.

"I don't think so. His consciousness should have been sleeping while I took over his body, but who knows? I'm sure Veneziano will remind him once their talk about the vacation comes up again."

He laughed softly and bent down to press his lips to Romano's forehead.

"Take care of him for me, please," he said quietly as he rose to his feet and rested his hand on Spain's shoulder. "You and Veneziano are the most important people in his life right now, and he needs you to love him with everything you have. I trust you to do it- you haven't disappointed me so far. Thank you, Spain."

He gave the man's shoulder a squeeze and let his hand drop. Slowly, his body began to fade, and before Spain had the chance to figure out what to say in return, the ancient empire had already gone. The Spaniard stared at the spot where he had stood only moments ago, wondering if it had all been an illusion. He sat down in the spot on the bed the larger man had occupied only moments ago and looked over at Romano, who was sleeping peacefully. He reached over and stroked the Italian's hair.

"Don't ever change, Lovi," he whispered. "I like you just the way you are."

He bent down and pressed his lips to his lover's, lingering there and wrapping one arm over him until the other woke up.

"Mm? Antoni-o?" he mumbled once the other released him. "When did you-? Did you take off my shirt while I was sleeping, bastard?"

Spain laughed.

"No, mi amor. You took it off by yourself."

Romano frowned at him suspiciously, but didn't make further accusations. He stared up at the ceiling, frowning.

"What time is it, dammit? I feel like I've been asleep for a long time."

"You were," Spain said, lying down next to him and pulling him close, "but I'm glad you're awake now. I missed you."

He kissed Romano on the cheek.

"It was only one night, bastard," the Italian muttered, but he was secretly happy to have Spain next to him again.

Spain continued to cuddle him until Romano finally got up and demanded breakfast. Spain had to inform him that it was actually dinner time and that they had already eaten, which confused Romano a great deal, especially when he realized that he was indeed, not hungry. He crawled back into bed with Spain who renewed his affections, determined to show love to Romano with as much passion as he could muster while trying not to think of the younger man's grandfather possibly watching them from afar (he really wished Rome hadn't told him about that). He kissed and worshiped him from head to toe, making Romano breathe his name and move against him to match his lover for everything he was given, and when the two had finally worn themselves out, Romano settled himself close to Spain's chest and mumbled.

"Ti amo, bastardo."

Spain smiled.

"Te amo tambien, Lovi."

The two fell asleep peacefully, both exhausted after the long day only one of them fully remembered. The next morning when they woke up, Romano made them breakfast.

A/N: This has been an idea in my head for a long time. Usually my one-shots become novels; this time, an idea for a novel became a one-shot. I kind of like it better this way. Did anyone guess the reason for Lovi's behavior before it was revealed? Hopefully it was a nice surprise and not a disturbing one! I don't know how Vene's going to feel when he finds out his brother has returned to being not so agreeable. I recommend rereading it a second time to catch the hints! I hope you enjoyed this little fic. I'll continue work on my other stories soon. Thanks for reading!

Fratellone- informal and affectionate word for "big brother"
Ti amo- I love you
Te amo tambien- I love you, too
Mi amor- my love