AN : I'm spamming you guys with all this SpeRo. Don't complain. This is not beta'd/corrected in any way either, btw. ;)
M rating will be from chapter 6/7 (yes, I have already written quite a bit).

De-anoing fro the kink meme. The subject was "language kink", with Spain actually being totally fluent in Italian and Romano somehow finding out. And being pissed and/or aroused. I'm not officially done with the story yet but it feels strange to post so many chapters at once only if I'm done. So yeah. Have some SpainxRomano / RomanoxSpain. It totally depends on the moment in the story. Oh, and totally overprotective little Feli, because he's just awesome like that.
And Romano is in denial.
Warning for South Italy being the adorable foul-mouthed big brother he is.

The actual reason why he had decided to wake up this morning and not to spend his day lazily under his blankets was still a mystery to him. It might have been the fact that once woken up, he was unable to fall asleep again until siesta time. It might have been the fact that he knew his little brother to be in the same house as him and he had no intention at all to be greeted by flames or anything German like it had already happened many times too often. It might have been the fact that people were speaking downstairs, and that was in about seventy percent of the cases the preliminary for some idiocy of that stupid brother of his. It might have been the fact that him and Spain hadn't seen each other for about nine days, and the latter visited every ten. Might. Yet, Romano was persuaded this was not the main reason.

And now he was regretting to have ever stood up. Curled in a ball against a wall of his bedroom, arms draped over his knees, his hand still bleeding a bit from the cuts of the plate he had thrown and that had stupidly jumped back at him, he glared at the locked door as if his mere glance could make it burst into flames.

With a little luck, he thought, it would burn down the house and anything stupid, smiling, oblivious and Spanish with it.

Of course, Romano had no such luck, and said stupid, smiling, oblivious and Spanish presence didn't even want to get away from his door. It had already been thirty. fucking. minutes. Didn't he ever give up ?

"Loviiii~..." came the whine from the other side of the door (apparently, no). "Please, lo siento, open the door, I swear it was the first tim–"

"WAS. NOT." the Italian screeched "Why would I believe you ?! It's not like you've ever been honest to me !"

His statement was met with silence ; one of the suffocating kind, the one you want to get rid off, but never be the first to do so. He was too far away from the door to hear anything when the other spoke softly, it was the only reason he scooted closer. Because the bastard didn't talk louder, and he wasn't going to ask him to. No way.

"What did I do, Lovi ? If I had told you, you would never have made an effort to learn Spanish ! You were a difficult child." Romano wanted to open the door right away at that, just to be able to bang it back into the Spaniard's face. The other chuckled softly. "But you were still cute." He could practically hear the other grin now, what was he going to–no, WAIT. "Molto adorabile."

He did open the door, he did slam it back into Spain's face, he even screamed something at him, and was mortified at the single thought that the other probably understood every single one of his words.

He'd have to start insulting people in another language than Italian now. Damn.

"Ouch ! Lovi ! Not cute !"

"Not my fucking problem." he said through gritted teeth, and made sure to have locked the door again. "Bastard, don't ever talk to me again !"

"You know that's not possible, Lovi~ !"

Romano didn't even bother to respond this time. He walked to his window, checked the high (it could have changed since the last time he used it as an exit), gripped the edge, slowly slid down the outside wall as far as he could, and then let go.

Perfect landing.

Despite himself, Romano smiled. So he hadn't spent half his life running away from people for nothing ? Good to know. He walked around the (huge, to his chagrin) house of his, walked into the kitchen and grabbed a few tomatoes. He was hungry now.

"Ve, fratello, did you know big brother Spain speaks Italian ?"

Shit, he had forgotten his brother. Romano turned around slowly, and the look on his face clearly read "What are you doing here ?"

"Well, I came over yesterday, you forgot ? Ve..." the younger said.

"No. Unfortunately." he answered, glaring. "Listen, I'm going out." his brother was about to interrupt. "Somewhere, don't ask why. Just let me go."

"Oh. Okay. Did you tell big brother Spain goodbye ? He came here just for you !" After a little pause, he added "Ve."

"No, I didn't. And the one he talked to was you, not me, Veneziano. I'm leaving now." With that, he ran out, one tomato in his hand (where had he left the others ?), the juice slowly dripping down the flesh and along his hand, along with the blood.

One last scream of "LOVIII !" was all he heard before he sped away on his Vespa.