The Secrets of America

Singing in Spain

Spain's day was long. Romano refused to come over, Portugal was busy with work, France and Prussia were off... well... Antonio didn't want to know.

Ah, speak of the devil. His phone buzzed with a text notification. Picking up his cell, he read Francis's text:

U there?

Ah, thought Antonio, short speak. Only used when France is drunk.

Me n Prsuia r in poliec car. Halp?

Sighing, he grabbed his car keys with the intent of going to the nearest station. He swung open the front door, and was nearly blinded by a white smile.

There, standing at his front door, was none other than the United States of America. "Hey, Spain!" Said America, still grinning despite being soaked from the pouring rain. "Er... ¿hola?" Replied Spain, still wondering why America was on his porch. The two stared at each other for a few minutes, when suddenly America flushed.

"So, ah," America said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "This is awkward, but, um... can I stay here for the night? Cause I heard you had a pretty country and I wanted to tour it but my car broke down and the next flight out is tomorrow and-" America cut off as he saw Spain smiling slightly at him, trying to contain his laughter.

"Sí, sí, come in," Said Antonio, still trying not to laugh. He flatted himself against the door so America could shuffle past.

Antonio would be lying if he said he wasn't looking at America's back muscles. (Who can blame him- the fabric was clinging on all the right places.)

Antonio moved to close the door when his keys clanged together. Cursing under his breath, he said, "America? Ah, I need to pick up France and Prussia. I'll be right back!"

"Oh, it's okay, I'll just coming with!" America said, popping back into the room. (He had taken off his shirt, Spain noted, and was now drying off with a towel.)

"Hey, can I borrow this?" America asked, and without waiting for a response, threw on an old shirt of Antonio's, which was a little too tight for him (not that Spain was complaining).

The pair jumped into Antonio's car, and sped off towards the station. After a period of silence, America switched on the radio. A Spanish song floated through the speakers, and to Antonio's surprise, America immediately started singing along.

"You know this song?" Asked Antonio in surprise.

"Are you kidding?!" Exclaimed America, bouncing in his seat like an excited kid, "I love this song!"

Antonio smiled faintly, and listened to America sing. He wasn't horrible, he concluded. In fact, he was wonderful. He sung at a lower pitch than the actual signer, but it worked just as well. It added a bit of flair to the song.

He sung with such energy, too. We poured passion into his own little concert, and Spain couldn't help but smile.

By the end of the trip, the pair were giggling and laughing more than the two that were actually drunk.

A/N: Spain is gay. That is all.