Fairytale
For Romano-- sorry my valentine was so late. Hope this makes up for it. <3
He wouldn’t believe.
Buenos días, Lovinito.
There was no reason too, really: why get his hopes up?
Warm breath against the back of his neck, sunshine lips murmuring barely distinguishable phrases, brushing sensitive skin.
No one cared about the Southern half-it was the North they really wanted, the North with its strong economy, beautiful culture, the oil paint that seemed to leak from opulent fingers onto pure canvases-
Mmmm-ahh-tan caliente estás.
He knew that he wasn’t the favorite, that he wasn’t the one they cared about-why did everyone have to point it out for him over and over?
Calloused fingers around his own, skin pressed against skin, arm curled around his waist, pulling him closer-
He couldn’t help but hate his brother for it.
The mouth was pressing kisses against him now, little flirtations, rapidly devolving into something a little more-
He couldn’t help but love his brother for it.
Bésame, mi amor, bésame.
He knew it wasn’t the other’s fault: he was just tired of being promised a fairytale, the fairytale his brother already seemed to be living.
Por favor-
So, he decided that he wouldn’t believe.
Lovi-
Because it would bring him nothing but pain and more unhappiness, and por Díos, he already had enough of that.
So warm-
It was just so hard.
Those calluses were trailing up his thigh now, following each little curve and dip, words of liquid heat in his ears, mouth still breathing bésame bésame bésame
Because-
A-Antonio-
Someone seemed intent on trying give him his ‘happily ever after’ anyway.
Te amo, Lovinito.
Stupid bastard.