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“I’m sorry about your brother.” Spain broke their silence lamely.
“My brother?” South Italy looked up from the cards his hands had been shuffling. He gave Spain a pointed glare. He was sitting at the end of his bed hunched over and fiddling his fingers shyly.
Spain's eyes widened for a moment and he looked away before continuing, “I- yes. Because of France. And what happened with the Medici in Florence.”
South Italy hummed and rolled his head to the side to watch Spain from a tilted angle. “News travels fast to Spain then.”
Spain shrunk into himself and scoffed, “Well we do need to be somewhat aware of what’s going on.”
“So you just came to say sorry? About my brother? Just him?”
Spain turned to pout at South Italy. His face twisted as he thought of what to say but he was never any good at being vulnerable. “I had no idea the Pope would let them enter Rome.” He finally breathed out. He turned his body to face South Italy fully, “Roma, please understand France is always so restless. It’s hard to keep track-”
“Spain.” Romano cut him off. He scrunched his nose and let out a heavy sigh, “Look it’s a shit situation alright? This always happens when someone finally falls dead. Everyone wants to loot the body and see what they can grab.” He huffs. “And I’m in the fucking middle of it.”
“And your brother.” Spain adds in a small voice.
He sighs and rolls his eyes as he starts to shuffle his cards again, “So, do you think he’ll want Naples?”
Spain refolded his hands in his lap and watched South Italy’s hands, “Surely your king wouldn’t-”
“Well fuck him!” South Italy bursted out throwing his cards at the floor. His chest heaved with emotion and Spain bit his lip.
“That little shit. I know he’s just going to run.” He ran his hands through his curls and scoffed, “I don’t trust him one bit. We’re going to be left ready for France. I’ll be speaking French with some fucking viceroy by the end of the year if not month!”
Spain leaned in closer with a worried expression, “No! No Roma I’m sure that won’t happen!”
“It’s France Spain! We don’t have that army and we don’t have that money! The Pope's a little bitch as is!” He felt his eyes start to water.
Spain closed the distance between the two of them and wrapped South Italy in his arms to comfort him, “Romano please don’t say that!”
“All he cares about are his stupid kids!” South Italy buried his face into Spain's shoulder.
“No no Romano please! Please don’t cry!”
“It’s not fair! He was supposed to protect us!” He sniffled.
“Sicily will always be open to you! You are Sicily! And Ferdinand would never turn you away from returning home!”
South Italy blinked away a couple of tears, “What?” He moved his head up sluggishly to see Spain better.
Spain blinked back and smiled sheepishly, “I um, I mean my Ferdinand not yours.” He held up a hand to brush away the tears trembling on South Italy’s eyes with his thumb, “He’ll always help you. You’re a part of Spain now.”
It had not been long since Siciliy had been under Aragon rule. A couple of decades possibly. It was hard to tell with their lifespans. France and Spain had gone head to head after Sicilian rebels had reached out to Spain's king. Well, he had not been Spain then but he was not fully Valencia either. He was what South Italy currently was. A country without a title. That had been the first time they had met again since Rome.
Their bodies had barely begun to mature. Perhaps feeling the upcoming shift in power through their regions. Spain was a comfortable 15 and South Italy was lagging behind at 12. South Italy had insisted on visiting their neighbors towards the West when rumors of a rebellion started to circle. France appeared about 15 then too and was generally tolerable. The taxes his people were imposing was simply too much of a weight for the Sicilians to shoulder. South Italy could barely explain his struggles to France. He had other concerns and wanted to focus on the celebrations and treasures his people admired. After a while of arguing South Italy had a sudden rough memory of a boy Rome had presented to him. Someone who had been a dear friend and more comfortable with confrontation. Hopefully his promise to always help Rome's grandson was still strong.
Sicilian rebels were split on having South Italy join their meetings with Valencia's King but ultimately hoped his previous friendship with Valencia’s own persona would help pressure the King in favor of their cause. Spain was just a head taller than him. When their eyes found each other South Italy had watched Spain's face twist from overjoyed to confused. His heart dropped.
“Hello? Uh, are you Romano?”
“Antonious?”
Spain's eyebrows shot up and he shuffled his feet, “You haven’t grown up.”
South Italy rolled his eyes, “I did. I used to be 10.”
Spain's face flushed and he dropped it, “Right! Of course!” He scratched his neck and looked back up at him after clearing his throat, “Right. Well, what can I do for Rome's successor?”
Spain had quickly promised to speak to the King himself for South Italy. They had chatted a bit and he admitted that his body had matured a bit too quickly for his liking. His arms extended too quickly for his legs to catch up to. Acne had begun to run along his back even when a dagger wound healed in a day. They laughed about the change in clothing and Spain groaned about how stifling court life was beginning to feel. He had been jumping around from king to king and religion to religion. It was confusing to figure out who he was and whose court he should be lounging in.
“But I like this. Talking to you.” He almost whispered as he looked out onto the sunset. He beamed and turned to South Italy, “It’s almost like before!”
South Italy's heart skipped a beat and he pressed his arms closer to himself.
“Except you’re still ten.”
“Twelve!”
He could still see Spain’s crooked smile and childish glee in his face today. Now they had both reached a more mature age and were suitable to join their leaders in battle. South Italy was still just a year shy of Spain's age but hadn’t lost much of his baby fat. Probably a side effect of his disfragmentation at the moment. He hoped it was just baby fat. Spain only visited on occasion as he had begun to strengthen his kingdom. Aragon and Castille had united with the marriage of Ferdinand II and Isabella I and they quickly worked to make Spain a power to be reckoned with. He was becoming an Empire and South Italy watched from the side as his figure began to fill out to match his presence on the map. His eyes were often hardened and his nose rarely tried to readjust itself on his face anymore. But he had jewels and gold constantly adorning him. He was powerful.
Spain watched him now with eyes full of tenderness.
South Italy perked up, “And you defeated France then too.”
Spain nodded with a dumb smile, “Mhm! But you were a lot of help!” He squeezed his shoulders, “Your rebels were amazing. They were so brave standing up to them. See? France is not that scary. He’s just… well his state is big.” He pressed his lips together, “France himself isn’t that big. It’s just his clothes usually.” He shrugged.
South Italy nodded and raised his legs onto Spain's lap. Spain's smile faltered and a rosy tint dusted his cheeks. “But you defeated him. Because your army is bigger.”
Spain seemed to think about it as a cocky grin crossed his face, “I- yes you can say that I suppose.” He giggled. “But you were incredible.”
South Italy licked his lips as he moved in closer to Spain, “España, can you help me again?”
“Help you?” Spain repeated. He straightened up. “Oh Romano I’m not sure I can. I mean France has not really entered Sicily and that’s still as far as my crown goes.” He wilted and tried to pull away, “I’m really sorry but I can make sure Siciliy is comfortable if you need to find refuge there. I’ll ask about raising your allowance!” he tried.
South Italy’s heart quickened and he latched onto Spain's arms, “No, please! España please. You’re such better company than France. If someone is going to control my kingdom I’d rather it be you.”
Spain's brows furrowed in pity and he shrugged, “I can’t. That’s not up to me.”
“Yes you can! You’re strong! Imagine just how much stronger you’d be with me at your side!”
Spain hesitated and looked away, “We just finished conquering Granada. I just don’t know…” He trailed off. He tried to pull away but South Italy dug his fingers into his arms.
The more he thought about it the better the idea seemed. If Naples was under Spanish rule he knew he’d be safe. He could talk to Spain about his problems and he would be part of an empire he respected. Besides, he understood his grandfather's vision more and saw him as something other than a legacy. He was too weak to defend himself from the growing forces surrounding him. At least he would have some sort of leverage with Spain and he could use a more stable government.
But why would Spain stay with him? Naples and Sicily were small. They didn’t have the trading power of the North. There wasn’t an army ready to be added into Spain's numbers. He was still politically fragmented. What good would Naples be without all of Italy? Why would Spain fight for him?
“Antonio, I love you!”
He flinched and pulled back immediately after his outburst. Spain stilled and turned to stare at him. His face was frozen in disbelief as Romano's words fell over him.
“I… I…”
Spain's mouth moved slowly but South Italy could barely make out what he was saying. He was mortified at himself. What a cheap trick! Why would I say that?!
Spain bit his lip and leaned in closer. He held his hands together tightly on his lap, “What?” He made out in a small voice. He held his breath as he waited for South Italy to decide on what he said.
“I- I … I love you?” What the fuck! Is it… is it working?
Spain's stunned face melted into a dopey smile. He slumped and bit his lip tighter as his eyes shined on Romano. “Do you mean it? Romano do you really mean it?”
“Of… yeah…” South Italy responded softly. Do I?
Spain began to softly laugh and dropped his face into his hands. He sniffled and wiped away a few tears.
“Whoa, hey Sp- Antonio what’s wrong?” South Italy straightened up and held his arms up helplessly.
Spain hummed and shook his head, “Umm, no it’s nothing wrong. I just-” He raised his head and beamed at South Italy through glimmering eyes. “I just really like you and I love you too.” He choked back a sob. His shoulders shook with each gasp he took as his tears started to fall more freely.
South Italy quickly took his face into his hands and wiped away stray tears. “But why are you crying?!”
“Oh because I love you and you love me too and it’s the first time I say it out loud and I wanted to say it for a really long time but I guess not really because we’re kind of old but I think about it every time we’re together and I know I love you even when we yell at each other-”
Romano kissed his nose and Antonio's words fell to a clumsy stop as his eyes fluttered open to look at Romano. He had a small smile as he held Antonio's face and rubbed his thumbs along his jaw. Romano giggled and moved closer to Antonio, “Antonio please.”
Antonio took Romano's hands and held them to his lips, “Romano I swear, I swear I’ll protect you and keep you safe.” He stammered and his eyes hardly blinked as they tried to drink in each inch of Romano. “I’ll fight France for you. I’ll fight the Holy Roman Empire, I’ll fight the Pope!” He peppered his knuckles in kisses and then gently kissed his wrist, “I’ll fight for you because I love you.” He whispered, looking up at Romano with adoring eyes.
Romano felt his mouth go dry and stared right back into those emerald jewels.
“Thank you.”