Untitled - 5l/?
anonymous
August 17 2011, 08:54:35 UTC
As though he’d been shocked, Romano jumped at Spain’s call. Heart hammering fast and hard, he brought his gaze to Spain’s face. Spain looked happy, his face pleasantly flushed, and he seemed to radiate excitement, nervousness, and something else, something Romano wasn’t used to.
“What?” he snapped, trying to make it seem as though he’d been paying attention.
“Sex?”
Was Spain seriously that dumb? Of course Romano wanted to have sex; it was why he’d come to Spain in the first place, asking for advice on the subject. Spain didn’t need to know all the dirty details of why Romano wanted sex, but Romano obviously wanted it. “Idiot” was all he could think to say.
Spain’s face seemed to fall for a moment, but then he went back to grinning. “With me?”
What? Romano felt his face grow horribly warm. “I. . . What?”
“Are you okay?” Spain asked, and Romano wanted to ask Spain the same thing. Where had Spain gotten the idea that Romano wanted to have sex with him? It wasn’t an inaccurate thought, but where had it come from? Unless. . . Fuck, no.
“Why are you asking?” Romano demanded, willing away his blush.
Spain laughed. “Well, you don’t seem to remember saying anything. And your face is so red!”
Shit. Shit. Shit! “What did I say?”
“You. . . You asked me to have sex with you so you wouldn’t mess up later.” Romano wanted to die. He’d been talking aloud? Spain had heard everything? Spain knew what he’d been fucking thinking? Spain added, as an afterthought, “With America.”
No. No. No. How had Romano started talking out loud? How had he managed to reveal all his stupidly embarrassing thoughts out loud?
“Your thoughts aren’t embarrassing, Roma!” Spain’s smile was anything but condescending, though Romano almost wanted for it to be that way, so he would feel less horrible.
But. . . Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing.
“I’m sorry!” Spain exclaimed, seeing Romano’s expression and misinterpreting it. “I probably shouldn’t have asked. I just thought that you were serious and I don’t want to make you feel awkward. . .” He laughed, and Romano’s heart fluttered. “I’m sorry, Romano. Forget I said anything.”
Making sure to keep his mouth shut, Romano continued considering everything. Spain was fine with the idea of having sex with him. Spain was alright with it. Spain would have sex with him, if he asked. Spain wasn’t disgusted at the idea of being with Romano.
He didn’t want to know why that was the first aspect of their conversation that his mind was honing in on, but he was just going to accept it.
He didn’t even have to ask Spain for sex because Spain was already agreeing. Talking out loud had actually turned out to be useful, though Romano had to start watching out for that, now.
Romano didn’t have to mess up with America. He didn’t have to worry about that.
Spain was going to help him. Spain was going to help him.
Sure, he’d never pictured his first time being this way, but it was going to get better. It. . . it was just sex, wasn’t it? That was why Spain was fine with having sex with Romano in the first place?
It wasn’t cheating, either, Romano figured, because it was like the kissing had been. It had all been for America in the long run, and it had helped his relationship with America in the long run. Sex with Spain-even though Romano was kind of maybe a little attracted to Spain-was just for America.
America. America. America.
Why did he even need to consider this? It was Spain, and Romano had been so sure of this idea only moments before. He had to go for it. It was his only chance at learning, at getting this right, at being with Spain. He wasn’t going to screw this up, too.
Heart racing, Romano began to nod. He began to stand up, before he backed out. This was it.
“No, it’s okay. . . Damn it,” he whispered, and he ignored the way guilt began to eat at him and he ignored the way Spain’s eyes lit up and he ignored the way his cock twitched at the thought of being near Spain like that again. “Let’s fuck.”
“What?” he snapped, trying to make it seem as though he’d been paying attention.
“Sex?”
Was Spain seriously that dumb? Of course Romano wanted to have sex; it was why he’d come to Spain in the first place, asking for advice on the subject. Spain didn’t need to know all the dirty details of why Romano wanted sex, but Romano obviously wanted it. “Idiot” was all he could think to say.
Spain’s face seemed to fall for a moment, but then he went back to grinning. “With me?”
What? Romano felt his face grow horribly warm. “I. . . What?”
“Are you okay?” Spain asked, and Romano wanted to ask Spain the same thing. Where had Spain gotten the idea that Romano wanted to have sex with him? It wasn’t an inaccurate thought, but where had it come from? Unless. . . Fuck, no.
“Why are you asking?” Romano demanded, willing away his blush.
Spain laughed. “Well, you don’t seem to remember saying anything. And your face is so red!”
Shit. Shit. Shit! “What did I say?”
“You. . . You asked me to have sex with you so you wouldn’t mess up later.” Romano wanted to die. He’d been talking aloud? Spain had heard everything? Spain knew what he’d been fucking thinking? Spain added, as an afterthought, “With America.”
No. No. No. How had Romano started talking out loud? How had he managed to reveal all his stupidly embarrassing thoughts out loud?
“Your thoughts aren’t embarrassing, Roma!” Spain’s smile was anything but condescending, though Romano almost wanted for it to be that way, so he would feel less horrible.
But. . . Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing.
“I’m sorry!” Spain exclaimed, seeing Romano’s expression and misinterpreting it. “I probably shouldn’t have asked. I just thought that you were serious and I don’t want to make you feel awkward. . .” He laughed, and Romano’s heart fluttered. “I’m sorry, Romano. Forget I said anything.”
Making sure to keep his mouth shut, Romano continued considering everything. Spain was fine with the idea of having sex with him. Spain was alright with it. Spain would have sex with him, if he asked. Spain wasn’t disgusted at the idea of being with Romano.
He didn’t want to know why that was the first aspect of their conversation that his mind was honing in on, but he was just going to accept it.
He didn’t even have to ask Spain for sex because Spain was already agreeing. Talking out loud had actually turned out to be useful, though Romano had to start watching out for that, now.
Romano didn’t have to mess up with America. He didn’t have to worry about that.
Spain was going to help him. Spain was going to help him.
Sure, he’d never pictured his first time being this way, but it was going to get better. It. . . it was just sex, wasn’t it? That was why Spain was fine with having sex with Romano in the first place?
It wasn’t cheating, either, Romano figured, because it was like the kissing had been. It had all been for America in the long run, and it had helped his relationship with America in the long run. Sex with Spain-even though Romano was kind of maybe a little attracted to Spain-was just for America.
America. America. America.
Why did he even need to consider this? It was Spain, and Romano had been so sure of this idea only moments before. He had to go for it. It was his only chance at learning, at getting this right, at being with Spain. He wasn’t going to screw this up, too.
Heart racing, Romano began to nod. He began to stand up, before he backed out. This was it.
“No, it’s okay. . . Damn it,” he whispered, and he ignored the way guilt began to eat at him and he ignored the way Spain’s eyes lit up and he ignored the way his cock twitched at the thought of being near Spain like that again. “Let’s fuck.”
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