Author Notes:

-Today – or yesterday – was Ash Wednesday, the first day in the Lenten Season. For all those Catholics out there, you know of what I speak. It was in the middle of the night, working on my research paper for my English class, when this idea hit me. (Actually, I was driving to the nearby gas station and I started giggling, thinking of Italy and Romano in church and Italy's like "so what did you give up for Lent, Romano?" and Romano grumbles, "tomatoes," and I proceeded to have a giggle fit in my car. Anywho – enjoy - because it turned into something a lot less funny than my original plans.

-Culture reference? Italy (the actual country) is very, very Catholic and Spain (again, the actual country) is only just a little less Catholic, though I think Italy is statistically (if you count going to Mass and participating in religious observances) the MORE Catholic of the two but, hey, I go with it. I'm an American Catholic myself, so I apologize profusely if anything in this fic offends anyone. I figure I'm allowed to make fun of my own religion.

Warning:

-Religious talk. I'm Catholic. Italy is major Catholic nation. I can't help it, really. Learn about Lent everyone! Whoo!

-Rating may go up. As of now, it's undecided T. I honestly was planning to make this a one-shot and then a story bloomed in my mind. Damnable imagination ruining my one-shots.

Pairings: Spamano-centric; may include GerIta, but eh, definitely gonna be Spamano centric.

Summary: In which Romano, questioning his faith versus the feelings in his heart, makes a challenging choice for what to give up for Lent. Spain does not approve, but when Lovino's virtually cut off all ties with the Spaniard in order to better observe his fasting choice, what's Antonio to do?

~!~

Don't Tempt Me

Chapter 1

~!~

"So, what are you giving up for Lent, fratello?"

Romano nearly spat his drink out everywhere at the question. For one, they were in public, having a nice dinner after celebrating the Mass and Ash Wednesday observances (and he was starving after having fasted all day). Being in public, he would have assumed Veneziano would know better about asking that specific question, especially after the disaster of last year. His brother may not have a problem running around telling everyone what he was giving up, but he certainly did. First off, it was nobody's business thank-you-very-much. And secondly, he wasn't about to tell these humans how he was giving up a certain activity with a certain someone. Thirdly, the very mention of it was about to drive him insane with need and didn't Feliciano know why he had hidden his phone the other day?

...or why he had been talking nearly non-stop to that Spanish bastard the other day...or spent the whole weekend being almost clingy...

Well it most certainly wasn't because he was going to miss the bastard, that was for sure! This was a good thing for him. He was Catholic. He shouldn't be so head-over-heels for another man anyway, even if he was a nation, too. The Pope would not have approved. Well, the Pope was stepping down – what the hell was that about anyway? But he was pretty sure any Catholic figure would not have approved of the male nations romping around with each other all the time.

...if only they knew the half of it...

Still, he was currently sitting with his overly energetic brother at a table in the church's reception hall. They were visiting the people. Like they always did on special seasonal observances. And their particular table was absolutely enthralled with anything Veneziano said. Of course, everyone always was, weren't they?

...except now they were waiting for Romano's answer.

He glared at his brother. Not that he'd been paying attention, but giving up one kind of pasta was no where near as challenging – or secretive – as Romano's personal choice for the season. Or the video games that the kid had chosen. Or the sweets that the woman had decided on. Or even the porn that the young man had been quite honest about being addicted to...

Slouching back in his chair, Lovino grumbled out his answer in the vaguest way he knew how. "Tomatoes."

The people at the table stared at him like he was crazy and Veneziano even laughed. "What? But you love tomatoes, don't you? Why give that up? Didn't you do that a few years ago?" There was a pause and a strange look crossed his brother's eyes, like a bit of an understanding, and then a much quieter, "Does Antonio know?"

Romano glared harder, if that were possible. "No, he doesn't, and why should he? It's none of his business and it's none of yours either! And I'd appreciate it if you stop tormenting me." - you fucking bastard.

He wanted to scream at his brother, but they were in public. In public. In church. He had given up cursing one year (not that it lasted the whole season, but he'd done pretty damn well for all the lack-of-support he had). Every time they went out, he had to calm himself, to force it all down, to settle for glares instead of shouted insults. And every time the humans much preferred his brother.

Of course. It was never any different, was it?

Finally deciding that he was unable to handle this torture anymore, Romano stood, pushing his chair back, having finished his meal a long time ago and been trapped waiting for Veneziano to finish his little visit. Besides, Feliciano cared much more about understanding his people than Romano did. After all, Feli was the one really in charge of the country so what did Romano even care about what they thought of things?

"I'm taking a walk. I'll see you back at the house, fratello."

Feli stared at him, then smiled and nodded. "Si~" He chirped, his usual happy, bouncy, always-fucking-happy self.

Without another glance to the humans, Romano turned tail and left the building. He gave a nod to the priest. Fought the urge to scratch at his forehead because of the ashes that were now there. Of course, thinking about it made it even more difficult, but he persevered and focused on other things. He tried to forget about any thoughts of a certain Spanish bastard, but Antonio had always been his go-to thought whenever he was trying to forget something unpleasant...

No, fucking hell, tomato bastard, get out of my thoughts. I'm Catholic! And you're supposed to be Catholic, too! What's wrong with you? It's a sin! It's a fucking sin! How can you always stand there and smile at me when you know what we're doing is wrong...

He froze, leaning against the sign just outside the church, fighting the tears that threatened to hit his eyes. The torment. The raging battle. He knew it was wrong. He knew it was a sin. He knew it wasn't right, wasn't natural, wasn't what God wanted, but...he still...

...how come I still want you?

~!~

The next day, Feliciano Vargas was spending all his time in the kitchen, wondering what he should be cooking. He had given up Fettucine all'Alfredo this year. A certain pasta he had grown to especially love over the past few months and been quite obsessive over, so he'd decided to curb down the obsession by throwing it off the menu list, at least for the season of Lent. Germany had once suggested he give up pasta in general, but that was such a horrendous thought, he had immediately insisted that it was difficult enough giving up even one kind of pasta – and that he chose which type based on his most recent addiction. That way, he never ever came to love just one type of pasta; he could never forsake all the other goodies out there, now could he?

His thoughts were occupied by other things as well, such as his brother. After last night, Romano had disappeared for most of the night, taking what Italy assumed as a very long walk. Lovino finally returned home late in the night, but his eyes had been puffy and red like he'd been crying. Feliciano never asked about it, knowing his brother wouldn't talk about it no matter how much he pushed. Only Antonio seemed able to make his fratello speak up sometimes.

...which was what really worried him. If he had been correct – and he was quite sure he was now – that when Romano said 'tomatoes' what he meant was 'the tomato bastard' then...he was worried for their relationship. What could have Romano so tormented that he would decide to go and give up a person for Lent? And not just any person, but Spain.

Why?

He wanted to ask, the question was burning in his brain, but he knew he wouldn't get an answer. And after Romano's clipped growls and glares and please-excuse-me-I'm-leaving of last night, Veneziano was quite sure his brother would only close up more if he was pressured.

So what could he do but call Spain? Maybe Antonio would be able to understand Romano's decision. Or maybe he could convince Lovino that it was a silly thing to do.

With this in mind, Feliciano pulled out his address book and grabbed the kitchen phone once he found Antonio's number. He was surprised when it picked up after the first ring. "Ah, Lovi~ You never call from the house phone. Ready to come over now?"

Italy blinked at first, mouth open but frozen because he hadn't been expecting Spain to answer in such a way. Then he had to remind himself. This was the house phone, not his cell phone. Caller ID would pick up the number that Antonio was sure to have, but it could have been either of them calling – and why would Feliciano call?

"Ve, big brother Spain, this isn't -"

"Oh, Ita, lo siento. I did not expect you to be calling. How are you doing?"

Spinning around in the kitchen, feeling his kitchen apron twirl like a dress, Italy giggled a little. It was always hard not to smile around Spain or when hearing his ever cheerful voice. "Ve~ I'ma making pasta."

"Oh?" Antonio chuckled. "What kind?"

Feliciano brought a finger up to his lips, tapping it lightly. "Ah, I haven't decided yet."

Spain laughed again. He always had been fun to talk to. So cheerful and easy to laugh, no matter who he was around. He seemed to find the littlest things funny, as if he were watchful of every little moment. And so easy going. Sometimes, Italy wondered what life would have been like if Spain was his true big brother and not Romano. Not so many angry words, that was for sure, but he had grown to understand Lovino's dirty mouth and curses as his curious way of affection. Apparently, so had Antonio.

"Then what did you give up this year, Ita?"

"Fettucine," he mumbled, "but that's not why I called you." He forced himself to be still and serious, leaning against the kitchen counter even as he toyed with the phone cord. "It's about my fratello."

Spain's voice was instantly worried, the laugh dropping as easily as it came. "Did something happen?"

"No, not exactly," Feli bit his lip, trying to think of how to phrase this. "It's about what he decided to give up for Lent."

"I'm listening..."

Feliciano took a breath and decided this was for the best. Yes, Lenten sacrifices were meant to be personal. They weren't meant to be shared. But this was important. This was serious. This was...it wasn't what he'd been expecting from his fratello and it worried him. Because Romano was so happy when he was with Spain.

"I think...he gave up you."

~!~

Antonio Fernandez Carriedo fell against the sofa, feeling his chest burn with an unexplainable pain. Leaning back against the soft cushions, he tried to reason through what he had just heard. He nearly dropped the phone. Feliciano was quiet on the other end, though he could pick up an occasional "ve" as the Italian breathed into the phone.

His mouth felt suddenly dry and his hands were shaking. Why was he so upset? It was such a ridiculous reaction to something that he should have expected. Romano was always going off about silly things that he didn't really mean. He would always complain about everything Spain did. Always call him names, like stupid tomato bastard. Always trying to push him away. Like he was afraid of something. Like something was bothering him.

He should have expected this to happen at some point, right?

...but...

"He gave up...me," he repeated, the phrase sounding strange and surreal even now.

Why? Why would he do that? Why would Lovino suddenly push him away so hard, so forcefully. Did he really see their relationship as a sinful addiction? Was it really something to hate? To push away? To give up?

It didn't help when Feliciano basically voiced his own thoughts. "Si~ Why would he do that?"

Apparently, even Feli was looking for a reason for the choice, which meant Romano hadn't confided in his brother before making this decision. Which made perfect sense. Lovino didn't confide in anyone. He was stubborn about making his own decisions without any help from anyone. But it hurt. It hurt to know Romano had taken it this far.

"I don't know, Ita. This last weekend has been the most we've ever spent together. The most we've ever..." well, Ita doesn't need to know that... "And on Tuesday he insisted on being on the phone all day and almost all night, too; he even fell asleep with it still on."

It wasn't until Feliciano sucked in a quick gasp of breath that Antonio understood. He leaned forward, resting an elbow on his leg and a hand tugging at his hair. He'd been splurging. Romano had been stuffing himself with as much time as he could take with Spain before the Lenten season could begin. He'd gorged himself to near bursting.

...and then cut him off...

Antonio let out a groan, then a curse, then gave a not-really-hopeful request. "Can I maybe talk to him?"

The Italians were very serious about their religion – whereas Spain was more lax on some issues – but he allowed a little touch of hope. Feli gave him a 've' of an i'll try and Spain held his breath as he waited to hear Lovino's voice over the phone. He still couldn't believe it. He wasn't really expecting Lovi to take the phone, either. If it really was his choice to give up Antonio for Lent. Spain blinked as he waited, wracking his brain, trying to think how it was possible. Who gave up a person anyway? Wasn't that a little ridiculous?

Still, he waited for Romano to answer. He wanted it. He wanted to speak to him. He wanted to understand. He wanted to have this all explained to him. But, he knew having Romano actually pick up the phone now would be a miracle. It would be...

"Look, tomato bastard, you can't go tempting me."

Antonio blinked and stared into the distance at the sound of Lovi's voice. It had been a miracle. He had taken the phone. He had decided to speak with him. So, what -?

"Hey Lovi~" He laughed, though it was rather forced at the moment; he still didn't want Romano to think of him not smiling. "I heard you gave me up for Lent, but I guess that's not true – otherwise you wouldn't be talking to me, huh?"

He got a growl and a curse in response. "Idiot, that's not what I meant!" There was more, but it was mumbled, a little too much for him to pick it up, and then Romano spoke clearly again. "Still, you have to stay away. Otherwise you tempt me, you fucking bastard."

"Tempt you?"

"Si, you bastard! Just stay home and don't come over here! And don't even try to call me! I already hid my phone!"

Then there was a click and a dial tone and Antonio had the sick feeling in his stomach that this was the last he would hear of Romano for a long, long time. Why? What had he done? He had been sure that their relationship was at a new high. He had been sure that he was doing everything right. So what had he done wrong? When? When did Romano start doubting?

And...why?

~!~

A/N: I apologize for it being so short, but all the chapters in this story might be around 2500-3000 words. It's less than my normal, but, hey, stories write themselves and sometimes they bring long drawn out moments and sometimes they're short and sweet...or...not so sweet.

My main focus is my PruCan series, and now I have so many multi-chapter fics in the works that it's ridiculous. I got a request (from Chibi Emperor - mini shout out to you!) for a Spamano fic with lots of smut and character development. Regretfully, I don't see this story as having lots of smut seeing as the whole conflict is based around the idea of /not/ having sex, so I couldn't offer this up as a filled request for that reason. At least here's some Spamano, eh?

History-ish? Considering it's in the past now?

-Pope Benedict XVI resigned from office on February 11, 2013, the first to do so in 600 years.

~~I appreciate all reviews/alerts/favorites/etc and I hope you enjoy~~

~Reda