Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.
A/n1: Well… this is it, I suppose.
The last chapter. The very, very last chapter of this… this universe-sized fic about Lovino and Antonio and the weird adventures they had over the past weeks. Well, weeks for them – the fic lasted ALMOST TWO YEARS OH GOD for us non-fiction people.
"I can't believe you wrote a fucking long story for such a long time and didn't even made people pay for it to read! You just flushed two years of free hard work down the drain!" my dad would say if I told him about my activities for the past (almost) two years, so I'll just shut up about it and hope my mother won't spill the beans. He'd send me straight to the publishing company again and probably cuss them out for not-worshipping the ground I walk on, because that's my father for you. XDDDD
I really can't believe the impact this fic seemed to have made in the fandom. I really, really can't believe it. Even now, it's still very unreal to me.
Like many other aspirant-writers, I have been dreaming about writing a story that tons of people would talk about for years, but I always told myself that such a thing wouldn't happen to me. That you really had to be an extraordinary writer with extraordinary talents to be able to write a story like that. That there was no way a twenty-something girl that didn't even has English as her native language could ever write something that people would bother to read and like.
But… w-well, you guys sure proved me wrong!^^
Week after week, you showered me in kindness – some of you did from the very beginning from this fic, others showed up later on and smashed the love into my face just as persistently. XDDDD
I've met so many great people thanks to this fic. I've started to get a bit more confident about my own qualities as a writer and I've read so, so, so many amazing, sweet, wonderful, kind and motivating reviews that my mouth automatically curls up into a smile when I think about it, no matter how bad I might feel myself at that moment.
Thank you all so much for that. Thank you so, so much. You've meant so much to me – all of you:
The old familiars from "This Dance".
The new familiars.
The silly people.
The load of peeps older than eighteen.
The shitload of peeps younger than eighteen (tsssk to you, you should be reading about how to score your first kiss and not about nations getting it on, you lovely horn-dogs, or am I just old fashioned).
I thank you all, from the bottom of my rambling heart.
Thanks for reading me.^^
A/n2: Okay. Kind of ruining the dramatic mood now, but maybe the title name needs some explaining:
I know – "ending" probably isn't the best butt-synonym ever. Hell, even "opening" would probably make a lot more sense than "ending".
But this is the last chapter. And I like Mika. And with my almighty powers as a rambling fanfic-writer, I made Lovi a Mika-fan as well. Plus, very unexpectedly (ppffrt XD), this fic has a "happy ending". Ohh!~
Also, it's a fitting song. Go listen to it if you want to, it's nice!
So yeah, to summarize it all: this is pretty much the best chapter title I could ever wish for (except for the fact that opening still makes more sense but lalalalalala~) as a last chapter-name.
At least, I like to think so.
A/n3: Huge A/n's are HUGE, but whatever.
Some of you asked me when I'm going to come back and make another fic. The answer is… I indeed have a sequel in mind, but I don't know when I'm going to write it.
But I do know that I really need a long break now, so please don't expect too much from me for the next couple of months, since I'll be busy crying over school and shit.
But when I'm coming back – you'll notice.
I have a really weird nickname, after all.
Bye for now, dears…
** Bottoms-Up! **
While I was sleeping, I had this really, seriously fucked-up…
So in this dream, Antonio and I were at his… our House in Spain, preparing the table for breakfast. We decided to eat at the table that was standing outside in the garden, since it was fucking amazing weather, with the sun shining down on the lovely plants and flowers, and the tomatoes were sparkling, and the bugs were… bugging, and all that other special summery crap.
It all looked so fucking perfect and romantic – no fucking wonder we grasped this wonderful opportunity to eat outside with both our hands.
We didn't have a lot of time to enjoy our sunbathing garden, though: we were busy doing all kinds of things, like putting fresh, washed tomatoes on the table, and some milk, marmalade, cheese, a basket of bread… Oh, and since it comes in handy to actually have something to put your bread on and pour your milk in, we also put down plates, not-sharp knives (for the butter, I presumed) and cups.
Lots of them.
That surprised me. Why would we be needing so many kitchen-stuff?
I stopped with… whatever the hell I was doing for a moment, and stared at the neatly-prepared table – my head slightly cocked and the frown on my forehead deep, cranky and critical as always.
I was originally expecting to see… well, the usual things on the table.
You know. Two plates, cups and knives.
Me and Antonio.
But, as I already had seen, there… there were a lot more of those things present on the table.
There were five plates.
And five knives.
Five pieces of everything.
That was weird.
I looked away from the table when I heard Antonio's quick walking over the wooden terrace and I was positively fascinated as I watched him run around and put other kinds of stuff on the table.
Hm. He seemed to be in quite a rush.
He was still Antonio, right?
Why the flying fuck was Antonio in quite a goddamn rush?
Fortunately, right after putting down some tasty-looking meat products and a new pack of butter on the table, Antonio seemed to pause his hastening around the terrace. He sighed deeply, bringing his hand up to his forehead to wipe off the sweat with the back of it. He must have, somehow, sensed I was observing him, because he suddenly turned towards me and gave me a tired, but big and joyful smile.
'Ah, what's the matter, Lovi? You look kind of dazed… See something you like? Is it me? It's me, right?~ Oh! You like me!~ Don't try to deny it, sweetie!~'
He chuckled, walked over to me and hugged me to his chest – his chest, that had a very frilly and smudgy apron covering it.
'Antonio…' I started, looking up at him questioningly and resting my hands on his hips, '…h-hey, what's going on here?'
Antonio looked back at me, a bit worried.
'You look a bit hot, Lovino. Is there something the matter? You're not getting sick, are you?'
'N-no, I'm not.' I said, but Antonio already pressed his own forehead against mine.
He was smiling again when he pulled back, tilted up my face and gently pecked me on the cheek.
'Ah, well, that's a relief – it's just your blushing I'm feeling, ahahaha… so you don't feel like you have a fever. That's good. It would be awful if we couldn't all enjoy this breakfast to the fullest, right?~'
'Right…' I vaguely responded, having no idea what the hell he was yapping about.
Antonio wrapped his arms around my neck and moved his face closer to mine, smiling hopefully at me.
'How about a kiss, Lovi?~ Now we're still able to kiss without being…' he chuckled, '…booed out by our lovely audience, ahahaha…'
Booed out? Audience?
'W-what do you mean, "booed out"? By what "audience"?' I stammered, backing off, '…a-are you saying that all those people at our wedding were secretly fucking homophobes who now want their revenge for witnessing two gay couples getting married? Did they stalk us to Spain? Are they here now? Also, are you giving them fucking breakfast?'
Antonio's big eyes became a bit bigger and he stared at me, baffled.
Then his face sproiing-ed back in a very upbeat Antonio-expression again and he gave me a soft kiss on the lips.
'Ah, I'd love to talk about our amazing wedding day with you for hours and hours, sweetie, but the milk is getting sour if it stands into the sunlight too long. We better start eating fast. Let's continue this conversation tonight, okay?'
'I'll go get the kids.'
But he didn't hear me and let go of me, giving me a teasing little smack to the butt (ouch!) and humming contently when he walked inside the House again, swinging a random towel over his shoulders. Because that obviously was the most normal thing to do after violating your husband's sacred buns.
'H-h-hey, come back here!' I snarled, my voice trembling in panic as I rubbed my ass,
'…w-what are you talking about! What's with the plates and cups! And… and what was that you said about… ki-kids, d-dammit!'
Antonio didn't answer me, so I sprinted… no, stumbled after him, right through the kitchen and dining room, and I practically crashed into him when I entered the big hallway – the one with the stairs leading up to the next floor.
Antonio glanced over his shoulder at me and laughed at my flushed face.
'Ah! I guess you also wanted to come and watch this, huh? You must be just as excited as I am!~'
'W-watch what! Excited about what!' I blabbered, out of breath, and was too bewildered to struggle when he slowly pushed me in front of him and wound his arms around my waist, pressing a kiss in the nape of my neck.
'You forgot about it already? Ah, that's okay. You'll see, you'll see…'
I glared at him – or attempted to glare at him – and was about to stab an angry, well-deserved elbow into his ribs, when…
…w-when all of a sudden, three little… persons appeared above the stairs.
With disturbingly-familiar hazel eyes.
And a girl.
With disturbingly-familiar green eyes.
What the fuck?
As I stared at the children in complete and utter shock, the three toddlers noticed us. The two boys, who looked oh my fucking god exactly like Antonio, waved and yelled "Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii daddies!~" at us, while the little girl just scowled and looked the other way as she started to descent the stairs.
One step at a time, carefully, slowly.
The boys followed her soon after.
Behind me, Antonio chuckled again and softly squeezed my waist.
'Isn't it amazing?' he whispered, kissing the shell of my ear, '…it's the first time Alejo, Matteo and Luisa try to get down the stairs without our help…'
Alejo? Matteo? Luisa?
'It's… it's all kind of things, alright.' I croaked out – but surprisingly enough calmed down when I reminded myself of the very clear fact that this, probably, was all just part of a dream of mine.
Or else Antonio surely had put on more clothes than just his fucking apron.
Especially in front of his… o-of our kids.
I mean, sure, I could morph in full-denial mode and refuse to believe that those three little figures were representing my and Antonio's offspring, but that would just be a waste of dream-time. They were fucking oozing our DNA. They fucking rubbed our DNA in my face.
No, it'd be a lot easier and quicker to just admit that the kids were… ours.
Upon realizing all of this, I breathed in and out slowly, leaned back into dream-version-Antonio's embrace and relaxed a bit.
'K-kids, huh…' I mumbled, watching the little children struggling their way down the stairs and listening to dream-version-Antonio's encouraging cheers,
'…I-I never knew I wanted to have some of those…'
I didn't know how long the dream lasted, but when I eventually saw the entire touching family portray of me, Antonio and the three kids getting blurry, I slowly opened my eyes…
…and was greeted my Antonio's happy, green ones, which were half lidded, but very, very bright.
Just like the room.
'…ah, good-morning, Lovino…'
Antonio, who was lying very close to me, also on his side, smiled a lazy, sleepy smile at me and softly pressed the back of his hand against my face, moving it up and down over my warm skin with care.
I instantly forgot all about my dream. I just… quietly looked back at him, feeling my face flush and my mouth form itself into a small, genuine smile.
Without giving it a second thought, I pulled my own hand from underneath the comfortable bed sheets and clasped Antonio's, lacing his fingers together with mine and blushing just a tad deeper upon hearing that sweet, silvery little click between our connected hands again.
Antonio heard it as well – and he, too, had to grin and blush, scooting himself closer to me.
'Hey, Lovi…' he said to me in a warm voice, continuing the caressing of my cheek, '…did my amazing husband sleep okay?~'
'H-he slept fine, yes…' I nodded, as good as I could nod in this lying position, and squeezed his hand.
'That's good to hear…' Antonio squeezed back tenderly, his hand intimately intertwined with my own.
I now blushed so ferociously, I swore I felt tiny puffs of steam coming out of my glowing in the dark-red ears.
'…d-did my husband sleep well, too, Antonio…?'
Antonio chuckled, of course, positively charmed to the fucking bone.
'A-ah, yes, your husband also slept wonderfully, Lovi!~ Wonderfully, just wonderfully…'
'Yes, my love.'
For a few seconds, we both remained silent.
'So how's your butt?' I then suddenly blurted out, and immediately regretted it, smacking my hands in front of my face and wanting to hide myself under the sheets for asking him such a oh my god so fucking STUPID question.
But Antonio laughed delightedly, grasped my hands and gently removed them from my face, after which he was quick to wrap his arms around my torso and pull me flush against him, our foreheads bumping.
'What kind of question is that, Lovino…' he murmured to me, splaying his hands on my back and cuddling me affectionately, blissfully, all without looking away from my eyes.
I tried shrugging, but I couldn't shrug, not like this, so I just ended up making weird popping moves and noises with my shoulders and joints and hastily threw my arms around his neck and stole a few chaste kisses from his lips, before Antonio could ask me questions about what the hell I was doing.
It turned out to be a very good move of me, because for a very short time, as I was kissing him, Antonio's hold on me tightened just a little bit more.
'I-I'm just curious.' I then casually said, after breaking off the last kiss, and twirled some dark, curly strands of hair around my finger.
'Curious, Lovi?' Antonio smiled dreamily at me.
'Yeah.' I said. 'I'm curious about… well… a-are you in pain?'
He gave me a blank look.
I gave him a meaningful look in return.
Then he got what I was aiming for and grinned widely.
'Ohh, so you want an actual answer to that cheeky question of yours, hmm?~'
'W-well, yes, I—'
'It hurts, Lovi.'
M-my face became as white as a sheet at once and I stared at him speechlessly, almost as if he had just told me his ass was slowly and horribly bleeding to death, right as we spoke.
But Antonio blinked and frowned confusedly when he saw that, sliding a hand down my back.
'Lovino, doesn't your butt hurt as well?'
'Huh?' I stammered, snapping out of it again when Antonio's hand carefully traced over one of my bare butt-cheeks.
O-oh. That didn't feel… too unpleasant…
'Your butt.' Antonio suddenly looked me in the eyes. 'It must hurt as well, right?'
'Oh. Um. Y-yeah.'
Well, it did. Of course my butt hurt. It had been a while since the last time we had sex before last night happened, after all. And although he had been really slow and tender with me yesterday, my butt still felt sore as fuck.
Antonio smiled a bit, tapping my butt softly.
'You're very sweet and caring, Lovino, and I appreciate your concern about my and my butt's wellbeing, but… ah, sweetie, don't overdo it. Don't get all tense and freaked out when I tell you it hurts, because… you experienced this kind of feeling almost more often than me, my love…'
'B-but you're not used to it. Not anymore.' I huffed stubbornly, fidgeting with his hair.
'I am now. Thanks to you. And I'm very grateful for that, sweetie…'
Antonio let his hands wander up my back again, grabbed my upper arms firmly and pulled me closer. He pressed our lips together again, very soon after deepening his kiss, only letting go of me when we ran out of breath.
'…y-you're a very kind, nice, leading man when you're on top, Lovi…' he panted under his breath, moving the palm of his hand over my wet mouth to wipe away our saliva, '…and I can't wait to share many more nights like last night with you, my love, my sweet, sweet love…'
'T-that good, huh…' I stuttered, and had to smirk when I saw he, too, had saliva spread all over his lips and chin.
'That good.' Antonio confirmed. 'You were better than all of my former… dominators. If that's the right word for it.'
I frowned and rubbed my thumb over his mouth, cleaning his face as well.
'…d-don't you… well…'
I took a deep breath.
'…don't you feel a bit… weird, if you compare me to… a-all those other people that have done this with you?'
'Dwefenitwly!' Antonio said, even though my thumb muffled him a bit.
'D-definitely?' I repeated – and snuggled my body and legs and all other body part-thingies against him, softly rubbing my nose against his own, because… w-well, because I felt like doing that, d-dammit…
Antonio sighed in bliss, rubbing back.
'…Lovi… if I had known back then that sex could be… you know, good, no matter what kind of position you take… oh, then I'd probably wouldn't had sex with anybody until… until I had met the right person. Until I'd met the tiny miracle that's currently lying in my arms, sweetie…'
'So…' I gulped, but knew I couldn't stop now anymore, '…so if… knowing what love was would've made you wait for… f-for me, then what caused you to… not wait for me?'
Antonio's tranquil eyes blinked.
'What do you mean, Lovi?'
'Well, what I'm trying to ask you… in a really clumsy… cumbersome manner… is… u-umm… w-why did you sleep with so many persons in the past, Antonio?' I asked, now a lot more concretely.
Antonio didn't say anything right away, he just looked at me, smiled and nuzzled my nose.
'…what, you still don't know, Lovi? You travelled around half-Europe and you still don't know what the reasons were of my sexual escapades…?' he finally said with a chuckle.
I pursed my lips.
'I-I know their versions of the stories, A-Antonio! I know France's, Prussia's, Netherlands', Austria's, Russia's, England's and Hungary's sides of the stories, but… I- never heard your side.'
'That's true.' Antonio moved his hands up and down my back. 'I never told you. I also never really was planning to tell you, but then you started looking up my old bedmates throughout Europe, and then I thought their sides of the stories were probably more than enough information about me for you, but… ah, I guess I was wrong.'
'You told me that you'd tell me when you felt better.' I reminded him.
'I do feel a whole lot better…' he mused.
'Then you better start talking about your sides, idiot… about your reasons…'
I frowned at him and pinched his nose.
'…b-because there's no fucking way I could ever know "more than enough" about you, d-dammit.'
After hearing that, Antonio flushed and was quiet for a second.
But soon enough, he complied and gave me a small nod.
'Okay Lovi. I'll tell you everything.'
'G-good.' I huffed nonchalantly, doing a very cool mental celebration-dance inside of my head.
Antonio sat up all of a sudden, beaming a huge grin down at me.
'Since we're both awake now anyway: how about I call room service and order some romantic breakfast for us, Lovi?~'
I stared at him, plucking the upper sides of the sheets.
'W-we can do that?'
He laughed, hopped out of bed – surprisingly easily for a dude who had a lot of sex just the other night – and walked over to the posh, old-fashioned phone, standing on a low cabinet a few meters away from the bed.
Hm. I didn't get that at first – now why didn't they just… put that phone on the little bed stand, so that nobody had to leave the bed per se? – but when I saw Antonio's smooth, tanned and oh so very naked body stroll through the room, like the dimwitted, handsome moron was taking a simple little walk around the park, moving his nice legs, firm muscles and subtle butt-cheeks unashamedly as he did so…
…I abruptly found myself loving the interior-designer.
That bastard. Bet he was as gay as Feliciano in a motherfucking carrousel.
On a white horse – nooo, on a flock of swans.
With green, white and red and pink ribbons tied around their necks, just to stress their gayness.
As I sheepishly continued pleasuring my eyes by letting them go over Antonio's body over and over again (oh, so beautiful, so lovely, so bitable), the Spaniard dialed a number and leaned an arm to the wall as he waited.
And fuck, I swore my heart skipped a beat when, after a few seconds of silence, Antonio suddenly began to talk rapid Spanish in a very flowing, cheerful tone.
Instantly, I also sat up, cheeks burning and mouth bended in a very silly kind of smile.
I-I really liked the sound of his voice when he spoke Spanish…
Antonio looked around, giving me a questioning glance.
'Yes?' I stammered, tensing on the spot.
'The nice lady asks what we want to eat. What would you like to have for breakfast?'
'You!' I automatically blurted out, a bit too eagerly. A bit too playfully, too.
My face had now officially reached its embarrassed-redness-limit when I realized what I had said and I clamped my hands in front of my mouth – for the second time already today.
Antonio grinned at me and said something to the lady on the other side of the phone. Then he looked up again.
'She asks if you want me on a cracker or on a piece of bread. She recommends the bread!~'
I snorted – I just had to – and removed my hands, stupidly grinning back at him.
'T-tell her I'll just have you like this.'
'You sure?' Antonio's eyes glinted teasingly. 'You don't want me a bit more salty, a bit more buttery?'
I blushed and sat back, smiling shyly at him.
'I-I'll have you like this. That… that already is… p-perfection…'
Needless to say, Antonio's cuteness senses started tingling in the worst kind of way and he shot such a blushy, overjoyed smile at me that I could feel it tear right through me. Barely killed me with it, barely fucking killed me with it.
Then he quickly turned his head away from me, rambled some more to the lady in charge of the breakfast/room service thingies, and hung up, immediately sprinting back to the bed at full speed.
Full fucking speed!
My jaw dropped and I backed off some more, because holy shit, looked like he was going to fucking pounce me!
…but that wasn't the case, as the Spaniard stopped and stood completely still right next to the bed, to my side of the bed, I mean, and he leaned down his arms on the mattress, his body casting a faint shadow over my lying and awkwardly-twiddling-the-sheets-between-my-hands-figure.
I looked up and nodded at him.
'W-well. Um. H-hi.'
Goddammit. I felt my forehead furrowed a bit.
I always ended up saying "hi" to him when I hadn't had a damn clue what else I could possibly say to him (mostly because I was too flustered or choked-up right then), even… no, especially at times like these, when I really, really wanted to say something… good, cool or original, or just very Lovino-ish to him (and for the stupid people: Lovino-ish is pretty much is all three of these awesome things, only put together and tossed in a very big… mixing bowl).
I still only heard myself saying "hi", though.
L-luckily, Antonio didn't give a tiny rat's ass about me being good, cool, original or whatever, because he grinned happily at me, leaning forwards to me until his face was hovering just above mine.
'Y-yeah, hi.' I softly said again, blinking my eyes and tugging on the sheets.
Antonio smiled at me and brushed some annoying strands of hair out of my face.
'Ah, I ordered some… freshly baked bread buns – an entire basket, Lovi! – and a pack of butter, some nice gingerbread, a couple of soft-boiled eggs, orange juice, tomato juice… oh, who am I kidding – I just ordered the entire breakfast menu, Lovi.'
'That's…!' I started, but was interrupted when Antonio gave me a warm kiss, his fingers slowly tracing over my cheek and chin.
'…t-that's way too fucking much for us, d-dammit…' I mumbled, as soon as Antonio pulled back, and let go of the sheets to collect his face him my shaky, but solid-enough hands.
Antonio let out a hearty laugh and crawled, together with his naked ass, on top of me – and on top of the thin sheets separating our bodies.
'I know it's a bit too much…' he admitted once he literally was laying on me, '…but since I've got a lot of stories to tell you, I better make sure we stock something extra, for when we get hungry around lunchtime again.'
I frowned at him and stared at his face. I still held it in my hands – and I firmly squeezed his rosy cheeks, huffing.
'Ouch, Lovi…' Antonio whined, in that high, childish voice he could have sometimes.
'You,' I said, swallowing and pulling his attractive, squishy face closer to mine, '…y-you better make sure you tell me everything, y-you bastard. I don't care if that means we won't leave this room for the rest of the day – you are going to tell me all about… y-your sex past. At least with those seven countries. I-it means a lot to me.'
The corners of his mouth tilted up. His eyes were soft and reassuring and his hands light and feathery over my own hands, his elbows digging shallow dips in the mattress.
'Don't worry, Lovi. I am going to tell you all about it.'
'I know you are. I just… I…' I pressed my lips together and deepened my frown, '…I just want you to know that I'm serious.'
Antonio's fingers fluttered around my hands.
'I'm serious as well, sweetie.'
'S-so it's a promise?'
'It's a promise.'
'Great.' I moved my head up and down again. 'Now seal it.'
Antonio looked confused. 'Seal it, Lovi?'
'Yes, like they always do in… in all the rough and tough ghetto-streets and dark alleys of Barcelona. They seal all their important promises with a nice kiss.'
Antonio stared at me, completely lost and (understandably) even slightly disturbed.
'And you know what they say,' I impatiently continued, nuzzling his face, '…w-when in Barcelona, do what the… Barcelonans do.'
'And that's… sealing promises with nice kisses?' Antonio asked.
'Rough and tough Barcelonans do that?'
'Y-yes. All… all the freaking time. Fucking psychos.'
'… w-with tongue.'
Antonio's jaw now dropped.
'They kiss with tongue, too?'
'Of course, dammit, or else it's just a wussy kiss!' I very rightfully-annoyed responded, '…you have to really mean it! Dammit, Antonio, there are people out there who get their sorry asses kicked, each and every day, just because they don't properly seal their promises!'
Antonio flipped his head to the side, looking like a cute, but incredibly dumb puppy.
'People really do that around here?'
Fuck that dim asshole. I felt my face was losing its cool – if it even really had any of it, dammit.
'…no… well… not all people do that. I mean… o-only men do it. Around these parts. I-Italian and… S-Spanish men.'
'Italian and Spanish men, Lovi?'
'…yes, but just… just t-two men, actually…'
'…y-you and… m-mmjhskngh…'
'Oh. I-I mean… ohhh.'
The Spaniard finally noticed the embarrassed flush and the longing glint in my eyes and nodded, snickering and settling down a bit more to peck a few quick kisses on my face.
'Silly, blabbering Lovi…' he murmured, '…ah, why beating around the bush so much, my love…'
'I-it's a hard life on the streets, d-dammit…' I bravely stammered on – and managed to steal a few short, teasing kisses from his lips, '…d-don't you know? Y-you better live by the rules of the streets, or you'll get—'
'Shut up, Lovi, you just want to kiss me.' Antonio smirked.
'Then let me.'
I glared at him and then I smashed our lips together, kissing him in pure bliss while sealing our promise and satisfying my need to explore his mouth and feel him this close to me.
'Love you…' Antonio somehow succeeded to breathe out in-between the enthusiastic panting and lip-sucking, '…l-love you so much, Lovi…'
I gulped down a very thick lump in my throat and gently pulled his face a bit away from mine, my hands rubbing and caressing his still very squeezable face.
'…I-I love you too, dammit.'
I'm not going to lie – broken butt or not, I'd have loved it to go for a (…one, two, three, four…) fifth round with Antonio right then and there.
But that was impossible, because we both knew that room service would be knocking on our door in probably the mere blink of an eye, and it's kind of impolite to let room service wait on the hallway until Antonio and I were finished rolling over the bed naked, all shoved-into-each-other and stuff.
So we behaved.
We just rolled and shoved a little.
Anyway, the current short-comeback of the horrible No Sex Pact turned out to be a very good move, because less than ten minutes, a quick dive into our super luxurious exclusive white hotel bathrobes (they were made from heavenly silk – hell YES) and the epic arrival of a medium-large breakfast… trolley… cart… thing on squeaky wheels later, Antonio and I were already getting ready to stuff our faces with delicious grub – and Antonio got himself ready to begin talking.
And fast, too!
'Hmmm, since you firstly visited Francis, I guess I should begin with… um, my side of his story about the both of us, right?'
Antonio, who sat in a very silly, lotus-like position next to me, looked at me questioningly as he immediately pulled a big plateau with all kinds of food thrown on it closer towards us.
I yelped – I wasn't that far yet, dammit, I was still hesitating between tomato or orange juice, because both tasted very good in the morning! – and gave the Spaniard an angry look, spastically loading some stuff that I'd also like to try out on the tray, now resting in the small space between him and I.
But naturally, Antonio just smiled densely at me – and looked down at the piece of bread in his hands, musing.
'Ah, well, before I get started… could you let me know what Francis gave as the main reason he topped me?'
'Um…' I frowned and twisted my mouth as I thought about it, '…well, I think he had said something about… sexual frustrations.'
'Ah?' Antonio said.
'Yeah, that's what he said.' I nodded resolutely. 'The French fuckface told me you two used to have fights all the time, but you still, somehow, managed to befriend each other, too. The… unhealthy, freaky-friends-with-benefits-kind of friendship, but still.'
'Ah…' Antonio said again, now with a distant smile on his face.
'He also said something about… well, that it was nothing more than natural that he was the one topping, because he was apparently more of a dominator than you. In your relation with him, that is.' I explained further, biting my lips and staring at the two full glasses of fresh juices on the dinner tray.
Tomato- or orange juice.
Tomato- or orange juice.
I liked tomatoes very much, since they were very Spanish. To me.
I liked oranges as well, since they were also really Spanish to me.
Fuck. Now this is why I never go grocery shopping all by myself, dammit.
Maybe I should go for an America juice and just slush them together…
Meanwhile, Antonio had to laugh out loud.
'Francis has said that? That he topped me because it seemed to be more natural that way?'
'Yes. You don't agree?'
'Oh, I fully agree.' Antonio said breezily, spreading some butter on a slice of bread. '…after all, Francis is a lot more forward about sex than most other nations I know. When he was craving for sex, boy, you'd know it!~'
I watched him in silence for a few seconds, stirring a long spoon around in my suspicious red-orangey-juice mix.
'You weren't forward about sex?' I then carefully asked, taking a sip – hmm, not bad, not bad…
'I was!' Antonio grinned at me. 'Ah, I was pretty forward about sex as well! And like Francis said, I also was pretty sexually frustrated. But that weren't the most important reasons why I slept with him, I think.'
'Naaah… I was still a very young nation back then, Lovino, and I was very adventurous – also concerning sex. Francis turned out to have just a little more experience than me, and therefore, I automatically presumed it was nothing more than normal to let the more experienced guy take the… um, lead. So I let him.'
'…h-how was that?'
'Pretty good, actually.'
'Hm-hm.' Antonio took another bite. 'You shouldn't be surprised about that, sweetie: even though we weren't in love, he still was the Country of Love and I still was the Country of Passion. You bet we had a great chemistry together.'
I nodded, feeling strangely fascinated.
A couple of months ago, I'd have probably cussed him out with all the jealousy, insecurity and angst I had stuffed inside of me, just because he had said that he and France used to have a great chemistry, but now?
Now I was aware of the fact that he was talking about something of the past – not the present.
Also, I turned out to be the one Antonio was happy to call his lawfully-wedded husband now.
In your fuckface, France. Suck on that.
'So it was mainly an… adventurous discovery expedition for you.' I sternly concluded. 'Your sexual relationship with France.'
'Yup.' The Spanish man smiled and ate the last piece of bread.
'What about the albino-freak?' I bluntly started about Prussia, slurping my last bit of tomatorange juice – ohh, I should definitely try this more often – out of the tall glass.
'Oh, you mean Gilbert?' Antonio said, turning himself towards me a little bit more – and grabbing a cluster of white grapes at the same time.
'Yeah, that guy.' I snorted. 'You know what he said about you and him?'
'Um…' He looked up to the ceiling, as he pretty much always did when he was trying to think about something (maybe he thought somebody had the answer to all of his questions scribbled on the ceiling, I don't know),
'Ah… I… think I have an idea what Gilbert said about me and him, yes…'
Well, I didn't feel like patiently waiting until the tanned man would remember again (I was actually very naïvely hoping we could do something romantic and nice together later today, dammit), and so I just rapidly continued.
'He told me that you two only had sex because you were bored – and that you were the one that suggested doing it.'
'Ah. Yes, now I remember again.'
Antonio seemed to be pleased about that very fact and popped a grape into his mouth.
'Is that true?' I asked, my voice surprisingly quiet.
'Yes.' He nodded his head again. 'Definitely.'
My face fell. 'Definitely, even?'
Antonio gave me a small smile.
'Ah, well, you see… back then, Gilbert had a really tough time. His country and bosses were constantly… um, bugging other countries. Of course, I was happy to join him with the annoying – and I was pretty good at it, too! – but Gilbert… well… he had a difficult time. We all had, of course, but he had a very difficult time. I mean… you know yourself that Prussia, the actual country, doesn't exist anymore. Gilbert does, since that man defies all logic… but his country? Not so much.'
I blinked my eyes. I had this yummy, handmade, marmalade-slathered piece of sandwich in my hands, but I didn't say anything and didn't even eat anything – I just waited for Antonio to carry on.
And he did.
'Now, I don't know for sure, but I think Gilbert must have unknowingly felt that… something was slowly but surely… changing. In his country, in Europe… something like that. He didn't know what was changing, nobody knew that, but… there was something tense and unspeakable hanging in the air. And that "air" made Gilbert… really silent, brooding and quiet during the moments we spend together without having to prepare ourselves for a war or fight or something. I didn't like those moments. And I didn't like to see Gilbert all… out of character like that. He was my friend. And I wanted him to be… smiling, grinning, shouting out how awesome he was, without realizing how incredibly hair-ripping annoying he most of the time was…'
Antonio paused talking.
Time for a little summary concerning the Prussia-Antonio-chapter…
'…so let me put this straight…' I said, watching out that the marmalade didn't drip on the sheets (they were ruined anyway but still), '…you actually didn't screw with Prussia because you were bored, but because you… wanted to make him feel better?'
The Spaniard gave me a surprised look, before he chuckled.
'Aw, Lovi, are you trying to portray me nobler than I actually was?'
'No.' I shook my head. 'Not at all. But that's it, right? Prussia felt bad about himself and his country, you felt like you should cheer him up and make him forget about his worries and so, you talked him into bed and let him top the hell out of you.'
'That… that sounds pretty much like something I would have done, yes, ahahaha…' Antonio said, scratching his chin.
I scowled huffily. 'Man, you were fucking freaky in former times. Normal friends go out to a bar and have something to drink to cheer up, but you decided that having sex was a much better way to lighten Prussia's mood. I mean, what the fuck, Antonio?'
Antonio pouted and put away the grapes.
'H-hey, I was young! I didn't realize yet just how… intimate sex was, okay? I had never been in love back then, I just wanted to make Gilbert feel better and have some fun myself as well while doing just that. Besides, I also was fooling around with lots of other nations, so… I didn't see any harm in doing it with him as well.'
'Did it… did it work?' I asked – shuddering.
'Did you actually manage to cheer that white-haired nutjob up with the… sex and stuff?'
'Ohhh yes.' Antonio got a very proud smirk on his face all of a sudden. 'Especially when I allowed him to top me all the time.'
I was just busy taking a careful bite from my sandwich – but I jolted my face up immediately when I heard that.
'B-but Prussia told me he tricked you into being the bottom all the time with this cunning coin-trick!'
Antonio snorted – and gently rubbed a smudge of marmalade off my face.
'Heads, I win – tails, you lose. Right?~'
I gaped at him. '…so you just pretended you were a brainless idiot?'
'Well, yeah.' He grinned. 'Ah, I know I'm not very sharp, but come on, Lovi: even I understood that that little coin-game would always make him, Gilbert, also known as Prussia the Awesome, come out as the winner.'
'Is that so?'
'Um. Not… right away, of course, but I swear I knew all about if after the third time I lost the game.'
'Of course you did.'
He gave me a stupid smile, but didn't react on my snide remark.
'But I was fine with being bottom. Gilbert wasn't bad, and he certainly got happier every time he won that game and, well, had fun with me. Oh, and I amused myself just as much, by the way!~ So in the end, I had reached all my goals and that was good.'
'Yeah, okay, but… even now, Prussia still thinks you're just a stupid moron who only thinks of sex when trying to find away to get rid of the boredom.'
'Well, that's not completely untrue.'
I frowned at him and stuffed the whole sandwich in my mouth.
'Y-yoo kwnow whab I mean, dwammid!'
'I do, I do!' Antonio admitted, '…and that's perfectly fine by me. Gilbert's free to think of me how he wants to think about me – no matter if that's good or bad. He's still my friend and he still respects me on his own weird way, so it's okay, Lovino. Let him think whatever he wants to think. Let lets me do that about him, too.'
I munched on my food, but made sure our eyes stayed locked as I did so.
'W-will you ever tell him the real reason why you had sex with him?' I said, as soon as my mouth was empty.
He shrugged and poked one of the eggs on the tray.
'Ah, maybe? I don't know. If I would, I think he'd think that I just had sex with him because I pitied him (which, in a way, is hitting the nail right on the head, ahaha) and that would make him sad. So… naaah, I'm not telling him anything. Unless he asks me about it – then I'll honestly speak up my mind.'
'What a great friend you are.' I said.
'I can be.' Antonio smiled.
'You're an awful enemy, though.'
I narrowed my eyes at him – and then I narrowed my eyes at the mess I had made, because dammit, all that one egg's insides (yuuuuch) was all over me and my bathrobe.
Antonio looked at me, not-understanding.
'I'm an awful enemy?'
'Damn straight you are!' I said, fruitlessly attempting to scratch out the yellowish of the egg out of my robe, '…I-I mean… for example, you also were the Netherlands' enemy. Right?'
Antonio observed my fanatic cleaning/destroying of my bathrobe with concerned eyes.
'Lovi, you're only making it wors—'
'You hated that Dutch creep. Hated him!' I said, ignoring his last sentence, '…you seem to be more neutral towards him now, but god, I vividly remember you freaking out on me because I said I was going to the Netherlands, dammit… and it was even worse back then, when he and Femke still lived with us! So how could you possibly have sex with… someone you hated that much!'
The Spanish man wrinkled his forehead and sighed deeply. He was making gestures and facial expressions that told me he wanted to answer me – but he had to stop and start chuckling again when he noticed now the egg-yellowness was now even in my fucking hair.
Which I didn't find funny at all, because it was gross, it was sticky and it was all over me, dammit.
'Fucking fuck fuck fuck fuck!' I hissed under my breath, looking around for something to clean me up with and glaring warningly at Antonio's shaking and giggle-repressing body.
'Hey! Cut that out, you bastard! Just get me a towel or something and explain your creepy funtimes with the Netherlands already!'
But Antonio gasped and beamed a big and excited smile at me, all of a sudden grabbing my arms.
'Wait! I have a better idea, Lovi!~'
A few very hasty minutes later, me and Antonio were…
Yes – bathing.
Bathing in the disappointingly small and hysterically white bathtub in the bathroom next to our hotel room, with lots of foam, hot water and expensive (and therefore) unfamiliar soap floating around us.
A-and there were a lot of limbs in the tub, too.
'…I-I could have gone into the bath myself, thank you very much.' I grumbled as I tried to find a more comfortable way to sit – and squeaked a bit when Antonio, w-who sat behind me, easily wrapped his arms around my naked torso and pulled my back to his chest.
I didn't see him, but I just knew he was smiling really cheerfully.
'No, you couldn't have gone into the bath all by yourself, because you think bathing by yourself is for fags.' he casually reminded me of my own words.
I just grumbled – not very convincingly, though.
'…ah, but don't worry, sweetie, I happily join you!~' Antonio went on, his hands drawing something on my stomach, 'I'll be happy to clean ourselves while I continue talking. Okay?~'
'Whatever.' I murmured, blushing deep-red as I shyly enclosed my hands around his wrists.
'I take that as a yes. Now… what did the Netherlands tell about the sex he and I had?'
'He… he told me…' I swallowed, '…that he had sex with you to prevent you would have sex with his sister.'
'He thought you were using Femke to fulfill your own needs and to find out if you were either gay or heterosexual. B-but Femke later told me that Netherlands was wrong – it was all her fault. She was using you, because she wanted you to fall in love with her – and she thought that blackmailing you into making love with her would be the most logical thing to do, even though she already feared that you were into men.'
'Femke said that, didn't she…'
Antonio leaned his chin on my shoulder and uttered a soft groan.
'W-who…' I tried to look at him from the corner of my eyes, '…who was right, Antonio? The Netherlands or Femke?'
'Ah, it's… a bit of both, I think?' he mumbled vaguely, nuzzling my neck, '…Netherlands was right that I didn't exactly mind it that much to have sex with his sister. She was, and here I go again, one of my friends. And since I hadn't got much trouble with having sex with my other friends – heck, then why not having that sassy Belgian beauty as one of my bedmates as well?'
'But you didn't like it.'
Antonio stayed quiet.
'Did you?' I persisted.
'…no, I didn't like it…' Antonio sighed. 'Femke was… I think… my first woman. Having sex with her was… different. Easier, probably. It all went a lot… more smoothly. After all, she was a woman and… well… s-she loved me.'
He got quiet again – but he was able to go further when I raised a foamy hand and awkwardly-but-nicely-meant put it on his face – smearing the white stuff all over his face.
'Anyway…' he chuckled, giving me a thankful little squeeze, '…sleeping with someone who's obviously head-over-heels with you and desperately doing her best to make you fall in love with her as well… it's… it's just wrong. Even back then, I felt it was wrong. I was making her hope. And she was making me confused about what I actually wanted from a bedpartner.'
I blinked. 'You mean that you really did wonder about your sexuality?'
'Yes, I did. I hadn't really focused myself on women before, but now that a wonderful and pretty woman was trying to seduce me and had sex with me multiple times… I began to wonder what I actually was. Into men? Into women? Into both? Or didn't I care? I didn't know. But I did know that having sex with Femke didn't make either one of us happy.'
'Or the Netherlands, for all that mattered…' I softly pointed out.
Antonio let out a joyless laugh.
'Or the Netherlands, indeed. Ah, he never liked me, but he downright hated on me when he found out his sister and I had something that looked a lot like a very bad sexual relationship going on. He confronted me with it and got even more furious when I didn't deny it. But instead of simply beating me up, like I had done to him many times before every time I was mad at him, he made an offer at me…'
I nodded. 'He offered himself to you.'
Antonio let go of me, grabbed a sponge and started stroking it over my back.
Oh, that was…
That was nice.
I moaned a bit and closed my eyes, leaning forwards some more so he had a better access to my back.
'Netherlands offered himself to me for sex.' I heard Antonio say. 'He wanted to go in Femke's place and save her from me and my strange ways, I suppose. Feeling guilty and helpless, I… well, I took his offer.'
'…d-do you regret it?' I asked.
'Yes and no. Yes as in… um, well… hatesex isn't really pleasant. It's painful and angry and rough and really bad for your self-esteem. I'm sure he felt like dying every time I managed to top him, because I sure as hell felt like dying whenever he won. And in time, he grew stronger and won more and more, and oh, it was awful, but god, Lovino, I rather wanted to be pounded into by that Dutch punk than I wanted to spend one night of one-sided lovemaking with Femke.'
I didn't say anything, I waited – and poured some water on my arm, just for the heck of it.
'So I actually… didn't regret all of it, because thanks to Femke's brother, I actually found out that I really did prefer men over women. I only wish I had discovered it in a more… normal way…'
Antonio moved the sponge over my arms now – 'Oh, look at that, I pour and he rubs,' I found myself thinking, '…that's like fucking teamwork in its purest form.'
Then I took a deep breath.
'O-okay, I've heard enough about you, Femke and the Netherlands. Th-thanks for sharing that with me.'
'You're welcome, my love.'
'Could you tell me something about you and Austria now?'
He nodded – I felt he did – but then he folded his hands on my shoulders, turning me around as far as was possible, which really wasn't that far at all.
'Naturally, Lovi. But only… if you switch sitting positions with me.'
I looked at his troubled face with a frown.
'…y-you okay, Antonio?'
Antonio nodded – again. His face remained somewhat sad.
'I… ah, I just want to be hold for a bit, Lovino…'
'I-I can hold you!' I instantly said, and clumsily started wrestling around in the water in order to flip myself the other way.
I-if he wanted to be comforted, h-he sure as fuck would get comforted, d-dammit...
'…y-you sit comfortably, Antonio?'
'Ah, yes. You, Lovi?'
'Oh, you bet. I always seriously enjoy sitting in a tiny bathtub with a huge wet Spanish man between my cramped legs. That's what I do.'
Antonio laughed – and I was glad he did, because that meant he had cheered up a bit.
'Now, about Austria…' I very formally said while very informally hugging his sexy/handsome/tasty back, '…h-he said he had sex with you because you two were married to each other and married couples should have sex.'
'Hmmm…' Antonio hummed contently, settling down in my embrace.
'H-however, Austria also said he wanted to have sex with you because he… fell in love with you during your time together with him. But what was your reason you had sex with him?'
'The same, really.' He stirred a bit. 'I wasn't in love with him, but if Austria said it was normal to have sex with him because he was my husband and such… well, okay. Sure, why not?'
'You didn't mind he always topped you?' I asked, now carefully combing through his hair.
'I…' Antonio hesitated and studied my fingernails of the hand that was still clasped around him. '…I wouldn't have mind him topping me – if he had been… good. But he wasn't.'
I grinned, I couldn't help it.
'He was bad, yes?'
'Oh, so bad, Lovi. He made sex – and I'm sorry to say it, Austria – boring. Not painful, not interesting, not even nervous… just boring.'
'Why didn't you ever top him then?' I smirked, '…then he would've learned how to be a flippin' good topper, dammit…'
'Ah, well… thank you for the compliment, Lovino…' He pressed a kiss on my fingers, not minding the foam.
'I-I'm just stating the obvious, d-dammit…' I flushed, '…well… t-tell me, why didn't you top him, hm?'
'He didn't want to be the bottom. He was scared it would hurt too much. Didn't he tell you?'
'Yes, but… I figured you had another reason…'
'I didn't. He was my friend and I wanted him to feel good, and… well, that's all there is to say about it, really.'
I frowned, rubbing the side of my face against his head.
'You sure thought it was important to make your friends happy, dammit…'
'Hmm… yes. But not always. I really hurt Hungary by carelessly sleeping around with Austria, for example. I knew she was in love with him, but – ah, I was so oblivious, I even didn't realize love could be that serious. Even though I had seen it before in the eyes of Austria and Femke – I still didn't do even as much as just realize it.'
'You didn't think you were a good friend to Hungary?'
'Oh, Lovi. I… I was not a friend, but real douchebag to her. Instead of giving her some good advice and a shoulder to cry on, I slept with her – which probably was the lowest thing I've ever done to another befriended personification. She didn't need that. She needed a friend. And I wasn't being one right then. I was being an incredible insensitive jerk.'
I said something that hopefully was a hum of acknowledgement. Apparently, we had silently skipped over to his side of Hungary's story.
Ah. That was good. It was good he now seemed to know what I was expecting from him.
Antonio rubbed the back of his head – well, he tried.
'Really, I… should have known earlier that I hurt her by… being her first and… screwing Austria, but… I realized it too late, when I had already made her suffer. She was so mad at me… I thought she would never forgive me, but spreading that one scandalous rumor about the both of us… you know the one… that did the trick and she found a way to forgive me. Somehow.'
'Yeah, and some nice secret it was you two had. You even told me you were topped by that devilish woman, dammit. And I fucking bought it, too!'
He shook his shoulders.
'A promise is a promise, Lovi. She would've got mad me if I had told you about our secret first. You understand, right?'
'Yes. You respected her choice.' I huffed nevertheless. 'And see, that's why I still think you really must have found it the most important to you to make all of your friends happy.'
'Ah, I… I still think that's important, Lovino. Friends and such.' Antonio earnestly said. 'But ever since meeting, raising and subsequently falling in love with you, I also started to realize it's just as important, if not more important, to make… me happy. By being with you, for example…'
I gulped and cuddled him tighter.
'…d-dumbass. It's okay to be selfish every now and then, you know…'
'I'm more selfish than you think.'
'A-are not. I'm a lot more selfish.'
He clacked his tongue in disagreement.
'Lovi, Lovi. You have that ring around your finger that has tied you to me for eternity and you can still say that?'
'Fuck you – that ring has tied you to me, dammit, and not the other way around!'
Antonio chuckled and traced his hands up and down over my protective and claiming arms around him.
'…ah, I guess we're both selfish then…'
I stubbornly shrugged in response.
'L-loving somebody and wanting him to be happy… never is selfish, d-dammit…'
The Spaniard remained quiet and smiled up at me in silence.
Somehow, I could tell he wholeheartedly agreed with me.
'Ah… I'm afraid there really isn't much to tell about Russia and I.'
Antonio gave me an apologetic smile as he put on a bright red (well, at least it wasn't pink) long-sleeved shirt.
Yes, we actually had more clothes with us, the people of the hotel had actually put our suitcases and shit into our hotel room yesterday, dammit.
Anyway, I was busy looking in the mirror and fixing my – if you really wanted to know and I know you do – blue dress shirt, but looked away from my reflection to give the slow Spaniard (what, was he still not wearing any pants?) a frown. That's right, I gave him a frown.
'Oh? Why not, why isn't there much to tell about your time with Russia? I know he told me you were both pissed when it happened, but you could also have other reasons to sex with that scary freak than just… being really, extremely drunk and unsure about… y-your growing feelings for me…'
Antonio's eyes lit up when he heard that and he smiled at me, blushing.
'H-how did you know that this one-night-stand with Russia was the result of that… that latter reason, Lovino?'
'Russia… might have dropped a hint or two.' I muttered, quickly looking back into the mirror. '…he said the both of you felt down and were dead drunk because of the same reasons… a-and since he said he was, at some level, realizing he was falling in love with Femke, I thought… y-you must have realized… th-the same feelings… for me…'
'I didn't realize I was falling in love with you quite yet, but…'
Antonio walked towards me and looked at me via the reflection of the still damp mirror.
'…I sure realized you meant a lot more to me than I had thought, all this time…'
'C-close enough…' I mumbled – and then I furrowed my brows and spun around, taking the sides of his open shirt in my hands.
G-grown baby still couldn't decently button his clothes, dammit…
Now… now why the fuck was I all of a sudden thinking about that?
Meanwhile, Antonio patiently and lovingly – always lovingly – looked down on me as I, well, dressed him up some more.
The relaxed, but very noticeable silence lasted a bit longer now, long enough for me to fix his shirt – and long enough for Antonio to gather his courage for the next sexpartner in line.
'Lovino.' He took a deep breath. '…when I came back from Russia, I slowly started to recognize these silly feelings called… love towards you. Love as in… romantic love. But there was a time I got back from another nation a lot more… broken… and then, I was so lucky to experienced feelings of love towards you as well. But it was different. Platonic. Big-brotherly.'
I gave him an understanding nod and small, but encouraging smile, knowing what he was talking about.
'When I came back from him, I felt like… I wasn't… worth anything.'
Antonio squeezed his lips together and put his hands on my shoulders.
'After England had done to me what he… had done to me, I… well, I didn't care if I'd die. I didn't care if I'd stop breathing. I just didn't care anymore, about nothing. B-but when I came home at last, and was greeted by a crying and yelling and oh so worried little nation that they had to tug off my leg, I… I decided to go on anyway.'
'I-I would have killed you if you hadn't decide that, y-you know.' I said with a huff, rubbing the salty water that could have been tears out of my eyes.
He slightly older man smiled and bent a bit to place a kiss in the back of my neck.
'…ah, do I need to tell you more about… me and England, Lovino?' he almost whispered against my skin.
I exhaled slowly. 'Th-that depends. Was it just as horrible as England described?'
'He described it as horrible?'
'Then you know everything.'
I shook a bit and noticed, thanks to the mirror in the bathroom, that my mouth was twitching and curling in all kinds of directions. Also, my hands were resting on Antonio's, clamped around them.
'Hey, hey, you've cried more than enough about my past, Lovi… we're done with feeling bad about that. It's time to live in the here and now. With everybody we care about… and mostly with each other.'
Antonio tenderly kneaded my shoulders and kissed my neck again.
'…but thank you, sweetie… Thank you so much for crying for the me… for caring for the me from the past. I'm okay now. I'm happy now. Lovi. Happier than ever. And it's mostly thanks to the best teacher I've ever had in my life…'
I let out a choked-up, sniveling laugh, wiping my snotty nose.
'…s-say it and I'll have to punch your face.'
'You, Lovino.' Antonio smiled.
'…n-now I'll have to punch your face.'
But Antonio wouldn't let me. He had other things in mind, like making me turn his way, cupping my embarrassed but very cooperative face and not-minding the gross dampness of it as he softly kissed me.
I leaned against him in silent delight, clutching the back of his shirt with both hands as I felt something heavy fall off my chest.
That's true, I didn't have to worry anymore.
Not about me, not about him and certainly not about how to top Antonio.
Everything was good now.
Everything was very very good now.
Maybe we should just, I don't know, leave the damn bathroom now.
B-but it wouldn't be nice to break off such a nice kiss.
F-five more seconds. Just five more seconds.
For the rest of the day, I had the following plan in mind for me and Antonio…
Firstly, we would actually leave the room.
…no, wait, firstly, we would clean up a bit, because I didn't want the people working in the hotel thinking that Antonio and I were just a couple of obnoxious persons who liked to fuck all night long and make a complete sex-breathing jungle if their hotel room.
Then we'd leave the room.
Secondly, we would greet all the people we would meet on our way to the door, which probably was the entire damn continent, because those pathetic European bastards obviously had nothing better to do than… g-greet me and Antonio and wishing us a nice day as they decided to take an extra day off as well.
Also, I'd let America trip.
Just for fun.
Thirdly, after leaving the wonderful hotel, I would take Antonio's hand in mine, since it belonged there.
And then we'd take a long walk around Barcelona like the stupid couple of tourists we were and laugh, have fun and make plans about whatever the fuck we were planning to do for the rest of our honeymoon, dammit, because crisis or not, I fucking wanted my honeymoon.
…I'd… tell Antonio about my dream.
And I'd nag at him and make very clear to him that I didn't want it, since I hate little creatures, but I'd also tell him I'd at least like to think about it, if something like that was going to happen in our future lives, probably not, but you never know, there's always England, after all, and he wanted to give America babies, so, like I said, you never know.
And then I'd enjoy watching his face.
A-and the overjoyed kisses he'd give me.
…and then, at the ending of the day, Antonio and I would go back to the hotel and retreat into our room.
Things would get hot and steamy and romantic again. Clothes would be cast aside, doors would get locked, and Japanese men and Hungarian women would be kindly yet forcefully kicked out of the nearest window.
And then, Antonio and I would make passionately disgusting love to each other.
Like… like all happily married couples do.
Who would top and who would bottom?
I don't know.
And I don't care.
But you know what the best part is?
Neither does he.
OoO End OoO