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Something Sexy About the Rain |
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spain/romano ( 19 july 2009 )
"Dammit, Spain!"
That was one of the many things Romano shouted on a daily basis; no, rather, it was one of the things he shouted on a near-hourly basis. It was usually an indicator, to Spain, of how he would go about things (who had become an expert in the difficult art of reading Romano's moods, and could even pin down what he wanted for breakfast in how the Italian came padding into the kitchen), but this time Romano's source of annoyance was obvious, even to his rock-dense companion.
Their arms were full with groceries, and it was pouring.
Like most of the people out in the market, the two quickly scuttled into an open business to collect themselves and call a cab home- they'd walked to the market, like they did to most things, and of course it was totally impractical to attempt to walk home in this weather.
" ... Dammit. " Romano reiterated, glaring (with actual annoyance, not in the way he usually glared at Spain) at his companion as he set his bags down on the ground and squatted to ensure that the contents were not too badly off from the brif soaking. All was well, it seemed, as the tomatos were on the top and would need to be washed anyway.
It was all well until, when Romano stood up again, he turned around and almost crashed noses with an especailly passionate Spaniard, who, up until then, had been regarding Lovino with a special vigor. He was grinning almost from ear to ear- why, the Italian had aboslutely no clue. And he didn't really want to find out.
"Romano ~!" the tone in his voice worried Lovino- it was his I have this brilliant idea, Romano! voice, and usually he ended up not being able to walk without limping for a week.
"Lovi, let's go dance." he then gestured out to the street, which you could barely see for the rain streaking the glass of the door.
Lovino raised an eyebrow. He was not going out there, no matter what. No way in hell- he'd rather eat potatos and wurst than go out there willingly! It was cold and wet and he didn't dance anyway.
But of course, as it always was, Romano had pretty much no choice in this matter. Spain had already grasped his hand (with surprising strength- good as Lovino was at running away, from Antonio's grasp was one thing he could not escape) and was pulling him toward the door before the Italian could utter a word of protest.
And by the time Romano could speak, he was out in the bitterly cold, drenching rain.
By the time he'd found his tougne and a few biting insults, he was being pulled close to the very wet and very spain-scented chest. SO of course, he lost both of his findings to a fervored screen of rain and smell and the rising laughter of a nation so much, in ways, like both a child and a ma, inhabiting the same body.
And so they danced, a strange and instinctive mix of a tango, a waltz, flamenco and something else that Romano's body knew like his true first language, in perfect harmony with Antonio's body, like they'd been planning this all along without the knowledge of those who inhabited them.
After narrowly missing a car (they'd dashed up to the sidewalk in their two-person limbo, Romano laughing inspite of himself, and of course they'd gotten soaked from the car hitting the rain that had collected in the gutter anyway) they were on solid ground and were not moving and they were both breathing hard and oh so suddenly, they were kissing, kissing in the rain and the silence and the near-empty streets, facing their scrutiny and shoving it in their faces. If Romano's mouth wasn't thuroughly distracted, he'd laugh for the absurdity of it all.
And of course their hips were grinding together and how the hell was Spain lifting him like that, and his curl was pulled and that was it.
It was suddenly hot, very hot and Romano was red and if Spain teased him about dying his hair green then he was getting a knee in his vital regions, and it crossed Lovino's mind that maybe this wasn't the best place to be like this, that maybe it was illegal or PDA or a fangirl's dream, but all he knew ... All he could think, form fully, that really, there was something sexy about the rain.
 men getting pregnant · Mon Jul 20, 2009 @ 08:34am · 1 Comments |
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