ScotlandxSpain

Spain felt a sudden change in Scotland's pace-- he was brought in harder and faster, and at this point he couldn't help but scream out loud in a string of incomprehensible Spanish and cries of pleasure. He used his hands to wrap around Scotland's neck, intertwining his fingers with the crimson red locks; pulling on them, and dragging his fingernails lightly across the other's back. The warm and wet feeling of Scotland's tongue across his body just heightened his lust even more, and he brought his own lips to Scotland's neck licking it and sucking all over the delicate skin as well.
The feeling of Scotland's hand stimulating his member, stroking it while he was being pounded from the back was more than enough to send him over the edge. "I-I'm c-coming--" His legs tightened up, and in one movement, Spain made his release.

Spain felt Scotland's release in him, ensuing a moan until he felt Scotland's head rest on his chest. He breathed in and out, loosening his grip on the other. "I-I am..." Spain chuckled, and rested his own head on Scotland's. He couldn't remember the last time he was this tired after sex-- and all he wanted to do now was curl up and sleep. In the past he would stay up, lightly stroking Romano's hair making sure the other was in deep slumber before he would. He fought hard, trying to keep his eyes open not wanting to fall asleep on Scotland like that.
"Where do you prefer?" Spain asked with half-lidded eyes, and a satisfied smile on his face. He would've preferred the bed, but somehow it felt intrusive. He had only really gotten to know Scotland that day, after all.

Spain blushed as he felt Scotland draping a light blue blanket over his shoulders. It felt nice against his skin-- it was soft and warm... just what he needed. Scotland snuggled into him, and the warmth around and within him, grew. Spain rested his head on Scotland's shoulder, and put his arm around him--watching the steady rise and fall of Scotland's chest. To be in such an intimate position with someone like that felt kind of nice, especially after all the emotional pain he went through that day. He watch Scotland's sleeping face, and gave him a light kiss on the forehead.
"Dios, estoy empezando a gustarme.* he murmured to himself, knowing that Scotland wouldn't understand.

------
*God, I'm really starting to like him.

"Ahh... good morning, sun." Spain murmured with a smile on his face, eyes still closed, and still half asleep. He shifted around, trying to get a hold onto his pillow when he realized that it was no pillow underneath his head-- it was an arm.
Spain opened his eyes, and rubbed them trying to remember where he was. He scanned around through the slits of his eyes, recalling the previous night's events. When his eyes met the light blue blanket, he held it with his hands and finally knew where he was. He looked to his right, and saw Scotland there, already awake.
"B-buenos Diaz.." Spain said, stretching his arms out. "That was some night, huh?" he then smiled, pulling the blanket even tighter around himself. He looked at Scotland, and wondered what he was thinking. "Do you want some breakfast? I can cook really good breakfast, I tell you that."

Spain smiled, and touched Scotland's nose with the tip of his finger. He had woken up pretty well that morning, and somehow he wasn't fully aware of everything that had gone down just yet. He did know however, that it was another sunny day and he was, well... happy.
Spain stretched out again, and looked underneath the blanket. "Woa-ho-ho what happened to my clothes?" he asked, laughing and looking around the couch. "You're not wearing any, too. Was it that hot last night?" Spain was unfazed and tried to stand up, until--

"Hijo de puta!*" he screamed, as a sharp pain shot through his back side. "Que carajo! Santo puta mierda!**" He fell back onto the couch, and blinked a few times... finally recalling everything that happened. He sighed and buried his face in his hands, laughing to himself. Now I understand why Lovi wouldn't speak to me for a day after we first did it. he thought, as he tried to compose himself to stand again.

"I-I'm sorry." he told Scotland, trying to smile as he straightened himself up. "Ohh dios mio, I didn't think it would hurt so much." He hobbled around the couch, trying to look for his clothes. They had to be there, somewhere. "Say Scotland, do you have any preference when it gets to food? Eggs? Scrambled? Sunny-side up, or something?" he asked, as he continued to limp around the couch.

-------
* Son of a bitch
* What the fuck! Holy fucking shit!

"I.. I think that's a good idea." Spain said, laughing nervously and hobbled back to the couch. He lay down, and planted his face on the couch. "Ohdiosmioitreallyhurtsomu-hu-huuuuch...' he whined, stifling his voice on the cushion. He turned to look at Scotland as he was handed a clean set of clothes. He took it and sat back up, slowly putting the clothes on. "But... what about breakfast?" he asked, as he put the last of the buttons on the shirt. "It's the least I can do for your hospitality, you know. I'll be fine." he smiled, and started folding up Scotland's blanket.

"You don't eat breakfast? Why not?" Spain asked, as he abruptly stood up. "It's the most important meal of the day. I won't allow you to go without it." He tried hiding the pain he felt through a smile, hoping that it would subside eventually. He grabbed the glass of water from Scotland and drank it down with the meds.
It'll be sore now, but it'll be fine tomorrow. Scotland's words rang in his head, together with the sloshing of the water in his mouth. The way he said it... was he just really referring to his backside? Spain subconsciously put his hand over his heart, remembering something else that had been sore just the other night.

Spain looked up at Scotland, as his chin was lifted gently. "I-I'm not crying." he replied, and quickly changed his expression into a slight smile. "I'll be ok. Don't... no need to worry about me, amigo." Spain sprung up, and looked around to see if there was anything else he could clean up. He found some bottles on the floor, and took them in his arms. "And like you said, sore today fine tomorrow right?" He rubbed his own behind, and walked towards Scotland. "I think I'm feeling better already. Are you still up for some breakfast? If you'd like, we can go to my place. I have lots of food there because unlike you, I actually eat breakfast."

"Hm, what's wrong?" Spain asked, wondering why Scotland was so flustered. All he did was ask him for breakfast... after all. "Come on, it's going to be fun. It's always sunny in my place. It's the least I can do to repay you for letting me stay the night, don't you think?" Spain smiled, and started looking around Scotland's house again. "I... I'm really grateful you know." he said, as his expression turned serious. He stood in front of Scotland, and placed one of his hands on the other's shoulder. "Thank you. You have no idea... how much this is helping me."

It wasn't often Spain was sad. True, there were times he would be bothered with regards his country's economy and stuff like that but simply getting by was ok with him. He didn't see the point in dwelling on the feeling, and as long as he had his friends by his side and the constant sunshine... nothing could bring him down. This time should be no different.
Spain let himself be pulled in by the Scot--resting his head on the other's chest, and feeling the heartbeat underneath. Scotland quickly pulled away though, and Spain studied his expression. "Are you ok?" he asked, as he brushed a thumb over Scotland's cheek. "Your face is red. Are you sure you're not drunk anymore?" he studied Scotland's face a little more, just before quickly putting his arm over his shoulders. "Come on amigo, at this rate the next meal we'll have would be merienda*." Spain then ushered the two of them away from the couch, heading towards the door.

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*snack

Spain felt Scotland's touch against his cheek, and a blush crept up his own face too. He quickly pulled Scotland in and walked towards the door with him, hoping that he didn't notice. For some reason having Scotland close, made his chest flutter.

Don't be stupid, Espana. Spain thought, the moment he became aware of the feeling. He looked to his side and saw Scotland with a serious expression, staring straight ahead. What happened last night, he was probably just trying to make me feel better. He probably... he probably didn't see it as anything. Spain sighed, and shifted his gaze back to where they were walking. He watched their steps one by one as they neared the door, trying to recall the previous night's encounter. Though he didn't remember all of what happened, he did remember exactly how he felt.

He pulled away from Scotland as they reached the door, and took one last look at the house. He felt his chest cave in somehow.
"So Scotland... what do you like to eat, anyway?" he smiled, and put a hand over the doorknob.

"I see. I keep forgetting you're brothers with England." Spain said, and laughed nervously. He opened the door and breathed out--he wasn't used to his house being this empty when he arrived. The only thing that greeted him now were the framed pictures of his Romano and himself, displayed all over the living room. If anything he was really glad that Scotland agreed to come over so that at least, he wouldn't be alone with the ghosts of his past.

"Sit here." Spain brought Scotland to a couch, and patted the seat handing him a pillow. "I'll be right back, I'll whip us a good breakfast. It'll be a surprise~" Spain rushed out of the living room and into the kitchen, where he looked at what ingredients he had. Since it was breakfast-- eggs were the way to go.

Why is it so hot? Spain thought, as he tried fanning himself while he cooked. It wasn't particularly hotter than usual, and it wasn't summer. But then he realized-- he was still wearing Scotland's clothes. Spain wasn't used to wearing such thick clothing, especially at his place where the sun shined constantly. Ahh no wonder... he thought, and he started to unbutton the shirt.

"Breakfast is served, amigo!" Spain walked towards Scotland in the living room, holding up a tray... wearing only an apron over his pants. "Look, I made the eggs look like you!" he started pointing out the components of the dish excitedly. "The tomatoes, look it's red like your hair." Spain ruffled Scotland's hair in his hands, and sat beside him. The dish had two eggs with parsley in them--Scotland's eyes, and bacon for Scotland's mouth.
"Oh how can I forget, I need to get us drinks, no~? What breakfast is without drinks? Orange juice? Or coffee, maybe? I'll be right back." before Scotland could even reply, Spain zoomed out of the living room, and back into the kitchen.

Spain quickly exited the kitchen, and brought out a pitcher of orange juice and a coffee press. He also brought out a bottle of wine, but realized it was morning and wine wasn't supposed to be served in the morning so he discreetly put it back in his wine rack.

"How do you like it?" Spain asked, as he watched Scotland eye the food. "I'm sorry it took so long. Ehehe." He looked at the side table, and noticed that one of the picture frames was pushed down. "I-I'm sorry you had to see this." He picked it up, and started going around the room and collecting the other frames in his arms. It hurt him, but it must be done if he had any hope of actually moving on. It might be the perfect time to redecorate.

After he had put away all of the picture frames, he sat down beside Scotland with a sigh and watched him eat. "Just tell me if there's anything else you like, ok?" he patted Scotland on the shoulder, and proceeded to drink some orange juice, himself. Somehow he couldn't help but wonder what the other one was thinking at this point. He wanted to know what the previous night had actually meant, but somehow he found himself afraid to ask.