Hetalia kink meme part 24
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hetalia kink meme
part 24
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Spain was laughing.
Humiliation rose quickly like a horrible heat in his stomach, just as fast as the horrible suspicion that maybe Spain thought he’d been joking, maybe it was going to be even worse because of that. He just wanted to die, to sink through the earth, to just disappear… and it was all Spain’s fault.
Romano exploded. “Don’t laugh, you asshole! I’m serious! What the hell kind of fucking parent are you supposed to be, laughing at something-”
Spain finally held up a hand, looking apologetic even though he was still wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. It’s just… I’ve been worrying so much about this, thinking it was something horrible, thinking that you hated me for some reason.” He drew in a deep breath that came out as a chuckle. “You see, Roma? I’m laughing at myself. It was a bit self-absorbed to assume something like that, right? And I’m laughing because I’m relieved too.”
The world appeared to have decided to shift and throw Romano right off it, leaving him to fall as his head spun in confusion. “Relieved?” he echoed, cringing internally at how dumb and young he sounded.
“Yes, of course.” Spain’s expression softened a bit. “I thought it was something terrible. And then it was… well, just this. This isn’t so bad. Ah, what am I saying? If it’s something that makes my little Roma happy, it’s a good thing.” And then, before Romano quite managed to get his bearings or protest, Spain had wrapped him in a rib-crushing bear hug. His voice even sounded a little bit wobbly when he spoke next, soppy bastard. “I’m sorry you’ve been worrying about telling me. I’ll make it up to you somehow.”
There was no way Romano was looking up or saying something right now, because now he definitely was crying. He pressed his face against the rough material of Spain’s shirt, fists balling around the textile and pounding ineffectually against him a couple of times. It felt as he’d been getting several months’ worth of running up and focused all his energy on trying to beat down a door that wasn’t even locked in the first place. He was angry, so very angry about it, but even though he wasn’t going to let Spain off easily or anything, he knew that he was mostly angry with himself.
He really should’ve known.
For a long while they simply stood there, Spain making a couple of low comforting noises until Romano raised a fists without looking up and ordering him in a voice that wouldn’t quite hold to shut up. Finally, Spain gently took Romano’s shoulders and pushed him away, smiling at him. “Your meat is going to burn. Don’t worry about it, let me finish the food, you can sit down for a while.”
“Like hell you are.” Romano wiped at his nose, still embarrassed about the large wet stains on Spain’s shirt and not wanting to look at him. “While I’m cooking this kitchen is mine, so get out of it already. I’m not letting you spoil the food.”
Spain didn’t protest, didn’t even linger obnoxiously like he usually would, just nodded and backed out, allowing Romano some time to himself. Time to save the meat and turn down the heat on the simmering pots, time to wipe his face on the kitchen towel and draw a deep breath of relief. He’d done it. Even if it hadn’t turned out like he’d thought, he’d still done it. All on his own. Lifting his chin a bit and allowing himself a proud smile when no one saw, he finished the best damn dinner he’d ever cooked.
The evening wasn’t perfect in any way - Spain didn’t magically stop being annoying just because Romano was out - but that didn’t matter so much. And later that night, when Spain fell asleep on the couch and snored loud enough to drown out the radio, and Romano found himself losing at Solitaire for the fifth time, he wondered if he’d ever been as happy before.
That didn’t stop him from kicking Spain awake, though. That hadn’t changed either.
~FIN~
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Anyway, I have quite the habit of reading Romano out loud with a really bad Italian accent, and on that line with the "what the hell kind of fucking parent [...]" I pretty much died. (Honestly, Author anon, try reading that out loud. With the worst stereotypical kind of mafia Italian you can manage. It's hilarious! You should feel proud of yourself!)
Really good fill--the comedy was appropriate, it didn't feel wrong or unrealistic, and it was really, really nice. Keep up the good work!
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