The Pact

Antonio Fernandez Carriedo shuffled his way through the snow, arms clenched tightly around a bundle of scrapped firewood as his breath came out in warm puffs of air. He was almost home, almost back at the door of the place he loved so much. He knew the children would be waiting for him; he hated to leave them alone for even a moment, but it was necessary when there were errands to run, and the Spaniard was always so busy. His town was poor. The building itself was in great need of repairs, and since the heating had gone down, Antonio had been constantly running out for firewood to make sure those little hands and feet stayed warm. The townspeople helped when they could- Antonio had picked up a box of donations earlier. He had been happy to have a few more sweaters and scarves to keep his makeshift family from freezing during this harsh winter. That's what they were- a family. Blood didn't matter where love was present, and even though Antonio wasn't related to any of the children he watched over, he loved them in a way only a father could.

"I'm home!" he cried as he opened the door to the orphanage, closing it quickly to keep the cold gusts of air out as the door creaked in protest.

There was a thumping of small feet and suddenly, his hoard of five- to ten-year-olds piled into the entranceway, crowding their foster father as he tried to maneuver towards the other room where the fireplace was.

"Tio Toño! Tio Toño! ¿Qué nos trajiste?"

He smiled at them sadly.

"Nada, mis niños. Just some firewood they had leftover at the lumberyard. Let me get to the fireplace so I can light it, okay?"

Marco, a seven-year-old with dark, tan skin and thick eyebrows, tugged on his pants leg, looking up at his caretaker excitedly.

"Tio Toño, we have a surprise for you! Come on, hurry!"

With that, he dashed off, trailing the swarm of children behind him. Antonio picked up Cecile, the youngest, and followed them curiously with the bundle of wood tucked under one arm. When he reached the living room, his mouth fell open in surprise. There, not far from the fireplace, was a small tree, barely standing on its wobbly stand and decorated with a few paper ornaments and toys hanging off of it precariously.

"It's a Christmas tree!" Marco chirped. "We made it for you!"

Antonio stared at it in wonder, forgetting about the firewood and feeling his nose sting a bit as his eyes began to water.

"Y-you did this…for me?"

The children nodded and pulled him closer so he could see their decorations better. Antonio deposited the firewood by the fireplace and looked carefully at each ornament decorating the tree, praising each child's creativity and wonderful work. He knelt down and hugged them all, tears managing to leak from his eyes as he murmured over and over again.

"Gracias, mis niños. Gracias…"

Then, the fire was soon started and the orphans gathered around their guardian for storytelling time. Antonio smiled at all the eager, bright faces looking up at him as the children sat on the floor before him while he cradled a sleeping Cecile in his arms.

"You know what next Friday is, si?" he asked. "It's Christmas Eve! On that night, Santa Claus visits all the homes in the world and leaves presents for all the good girls and boys. He comes late at night when everyone's asleep and leaves them here by the fireplace." He gestured to the mantle, where a small sock had been hung for every child, most of them outgrown by their owners and perhaps sporting a small hole or two. Antonio would always make sure at least a few small candies were found in there Christmas morning. It didn't take much to make the children happy; they were a grateful bunch, though he spoiled them as much as he was able to.

That was how it had been every year before- small presents, but still the joy and spirit that the Spaniard always taught the children was the most important part of Christmas. They understood that even though they couldn't have the best toys or eat the giant Christmas feasts others usually associated with the holiday, they at least had each other, and that would always have to be good enough. Seeing this tree, though, and the kindness and love his cute little charges had shown him really touched Antonio. He wanted to do something extra special for them…They all made him so happy. Maybe this year, somehow, he'd find a way to get them real presents.

The children chattered with him late into the night, asking questions about Santa and wriggling in excitement as he told them everything there was to know about the jolly present-giving man. When they finally started nodding off, Antonio stood up and put them all to bed. Cecile woke up as he walked and started coughing. Antonio rocked her gently and patted her back until she settled and drifted back to sleep. Her forehead was hot against the man's neck. Antonio furrowed his brows worriedly. He knew she was getting sick and would have to be kept away from the other children to avoid spreading germs. The poor little girl needed some medicine as soon as possible. If only he could afford it…Cecile clung onto him and buried her head in his shirt as he carried her off to bed, patting her back gently. It was then that Antonio knew he had to do something.

Anyone who knew the founder of the orphanage would only tell you good things about him. They would tell you all about his friendly and carefree attitude. They would call him a generous and kind-hearted man that always put the needs of the children he cared about before his own. They would tell you about how he never refused to take in any child left on his doorstep, even when he barely had enough food to go around- he would feed him or her from his own plate if he had to. You may even hear them talk of his obliviousness and how the poor fool would be all too easy to take advantage of. What they wouldn't tell you was that Antonio Fernandez Carriedo had once kept bad company. He too had lived in corruption at one time and still had friends on the wrong side of the law. They could help him out of a jam when he was desperate enough, and when he wasn't, they could tell him where to go that could land him in slightly less trouble. Antonio didn't like to call on them, but he felt like this was the right time. He needed to know where he could secure enough money to buy the children decent presents and Cecile some medicine- money that could be paid back slowly and that was not stolen. Unfortunately, Antonio did not always have the best judgment.

It was late on the night of Christmas Eve. Cecile was doing much better thanks to the medicine Antonio had been able to buy with the money he borrowed, and none of the other children had gotten sick, much to his relief. The man had sent all of his niños to bed, tucking them in and giving each a goodnight kiss on the forehead before going to lay down in front of the fireplace. He preferred sleeping out here to his own bed during the winter since it was so cold. At least the fire would keep him warm for a while, and despite the floor not being too comfortable, with the blankets from the bed, it was almost the same. He settled down there and was about to close his eyes, when suddenly, there was a loud pounding at the door. Antonio's head shot up immediately. Who could it be at this hour? The Spaniard rose up off the floor and made his way over to the door. Maybe someone had come to drop off a child or give him donations. It wouldn't have surprised Antonio much if it hadn't been so late. As it was, though, the Spaniard couldn't help but wonder who had business with him at this time of night.

Antonio opened the door a crack to peek out into the cold night before swinging it widely to reveal a heavily-clothed young man. It was hard to make out most of his features, but he was shorter in stature than Antonio and glared at him between a thick knitted hat and long flowing scarf. Antonio decided the reason he looked so angry was probably because he was cold, so without thinking further about it, he threw the man a sympathetic look and invited him in.

"Good evening!" he chirped. "Are you here to adopt a child? Don't just stand out there, señor! Come on in."

The stranger didn't even have a chance to speak before he was hauled inside, though he did protest when Antonio touched him.

"Let go of me, bastard! What the fuck's your problem?"

Antonio stopped, baffled by the man's reaction, but his smile soon returned, and he shut the door behind his visitor so that the cold air would stay outside where it belonged. The stranger seemed to be composing himself, trying to look almost professional while Antonio circled around him and made his way back to the fireplace.

"Please come with me, and we can talk where it's warmer," he told the man. "I'm sorry it's so chilly out here. I don't have heating, you see."

The stranger took off his hat and scarf and looked around the orphanage, unimpressed. He followed Antonio down the hall quietly, and entered the room where the fireplace had just burnt out, but was quickly being relit by Antonio.

"There we go," he said happily. "Please take a seat! The children are sleeping right now, so I'm sorry you can't meet them yet! What kind of child were you hoping to adopt?"

"I'm not here to adopt, you idiot," the stranger growled, ignoring Antonio's offer and staying on his feet. "My name is Lovino Vargas. I'm here to collect the debt you owe us."

Antonio raised his eyebrows in surprise. He frowned at the man and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"The debt-?"

"That's right," the visitor replied, getting a bit impatient. "You owe the mafia money, bastard. It's time to pay up!"

"You mean the money I borrowed just a few days ago?"

Lovino gritted his teeth.

"What do you think I'm talking about? Of course it's that money! It's due tonight. So do you have it or don't you?"

Antonio was nervous now. He hadn't expected a collector to come so soon. He gave the presents under the tree a furtive glance. The loan amount hadn't been very big, but he knew with the additional interest, there was no way he could afford it right now. Not if they were to have any food this week. Antonio cleared his throat, his voice coming out a little shakily now.

"N-no…I don't have it yet. I'm so sorry! If you wait just a little while longer, I'll come up with the money, I promise!"

Lovino crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway.

"You'll 'come up with it'? How much does a shitty place like this bring in, anyway? Do you really expect to get all the money you need to pay us back within the week?"

Antonio winced. He knew the man was right. There was no way he could rely on donations and adoption fees to pay off the loan that quickly. He would need at least a couple of weeks.

"P-por favor," he begged. "Just give me some more time. I'll ask around the town and see if they can help me…"

"Heh," Lovino responded. "I've seen what kind of town you live in. No one around here can afford to pull you out of the hole you've dug yourself into! So what are you going to do?"

Antonio thought to himself desperately. What could he possibly offer the man? If he had no money, would something else satisfy him? There was nothing of value here. All Antonio had were the essentials. He had once been a wealthier, more materialistic man, but he had had to give up most of his possessions after he had started running this place. It wasn't like he regretted it, but at this moment, he would have given anything to have something that he could use to bargain with.

"Please, I'll give you anything you want! Just name it!" he pleaded.

Lovino scoffed. "It's not like you have anything I need. You're just a washed-up loser with a bunch of brats. I'm sure those kids wouldn't want to see anything bad happen to their Daddy, but then, I can't just let you go for free. We have ways of dealing with people who can't pay."

The debt collector strode over him threateningly, looking intimidating despite being slightly shorter than the other man. Antonio's eyes widened as he backed away from him. He felt his back touch the wall next to the fireplace, and the heat warmed his shins as the mafia member glared at him, fists clenched tightly. Antonio knew what would happen to him if he didn't pay…He knew far too well. But there was nothing he could do, and if Lovino hurt him too badly or even went as far as to take his life, the thought of what would happen to the children was more than he could bear.

"I don't have anything for you," Antonio admitted, defeated, "and I don't know how to make you believe me when I say I'll promise to pay you back, but if there's anything I can do for you, anything at all, I'll do it. No questions asked. Just please…don't hurt me or the children."

He gave the other man a pleading look. He was at his end. In any other situation, he might have noticed how good-looking the Italian was, how his neatly combed hair framed his forehead even after coming out of the cold outdoors, how eyes glinted amber even as they glared at him with such demand. As it was, he barely even had time to take it in. Instead, Antonio lowered himself down to his knees, bowing his head in submission as he tried to reason with him.


He expected the Italian to give him a good kick, to laugh at him, to sneer or call him names, looking down on his pathetic self and what he had come to. But Antonio only heard silence as Lovino stared at him, perhaps thinking the things that Antonio imagined but would not say, or maybe even considering the poor man's offer as if there really was something he could offer that would satisfy him that had nothing to do with money.

"You really are desperate, aren't you?" Lovino muttered quietly. He came up close to Antonio and nudged his knee with the toe of his boot. "I bet you'd even suck a cock if you thought it could save y-"

The man was cut off as his mouth dropped open in shock at Antonio's sudden movement. All at once, hands were at the zipper of his pants, forcing it open before the Italian could even comprehend what was going on.


Within seconds, the man had his pants pulled down and was hooking his fingers over Lovino's underwear when the Italian moved to strike him. Because of their awkward positions, however, he missed and tripped over his lowered pants, landing on the floor next to Antonio. His face flushed a deep red as he tried to right himself, humiliated, before Antonio's arms were around him, hand snaking down between his legs and cupping him over the fabric. The Spaniard's fingers squeezed lightly as his other arm brought the Italian closer to him and flipped him right-side up so he was sitting on Antonio's lap. He stroked the spot, feeling for the slit that he could dig through to bring out what Lovino had mentioned, when suddenly, he felt a hard elbow swing back and hit him in the chest.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? Let me go!"

Antonio flinched, still holding the spot where he'd been hit. The other man was being too loud. If he kept yelling like that, he'd wake the children. In his confusion, Antonio misinterpreted his anger, thinking Lovino simply didn't like the position they were in. It was indeed, an awkward one. Antonio eased him off his lap, but the other man pushed away and landed roughly on his hands and knees, legs still tangled.

"H-how do you want to do this?" Antonio asked nervously, hands hovering over Lovino's hips with some hesitation. The Italian glared at him over his shoulder, turning around on the floor to face him.

"Do what, dammit? When I said 'suck a cock,' I wasn't telling you to suck mine!"

Antonio blinked at him, unsure of what to make of this.

"If not yours…then whose?"

Lovino gave a frustrated grunt as he jerked his pants back up his thighs.

"NO ONE'S. I was just saying…You're so fucking desperate. I should kill you for trying to pull something like that!"

"But I thought you wanted me to do that…To make The Pact."

Lovino froze before he could even finish sliding the pants over his hips.

"The Pact? W-what do you know about The Pact?'

Antonio's face went red. This wasn't a part of his life he liked to talk about, but if there was any chance it could save him and get him out of this tight spot, then he was desperate enough to try. After all, there was no better way to earn the man's trust than to try to relate to him.

"More than you'd think…"he told him. "You see, once, I wasn't so different from you."

Lovino eyed him suspiciously. The only one who knew of such customs were other Mafia members, and then, sometimes not even all of them. The Pact -the most convincing way to give someone your word- was often only used by the higher-ups. Promises sealed by offering up such humiliating blackmail were never taken lightly, and both Antonio and Lovino knew that.

"Really? A guy like you?" Lovino questioned unbelievingly.

Antonio nodded.

"I once belonged to a clan outside this district," he said, "but your Don knows me. Why do you think I was allowed to take out that money? I haven't seen the Boss for years, but I still have connections. Connections I should had thought twice about using."

He looked off into the fireplace sadly. He really had gotten himself into a big mess here. What would the townspeople say if they knew the truth about him? Antonio Carriedo, the man with the biggest heart on the street, the guardian of unwanted children, the kindest person to those that needed him- no more than a former mobster in an empire of crime. But that had been another life. Antonio had changed so much since then, and the idea of his past coming back to haunt him really depressed him. He just couldn't escape.

Lovino was silent for a moment. He looked at the man before him, an unreadable expression on his face. Antonio waited nervously. Somehow, he didn't expect the other man to give in. There was no pity in his eyes as he sat there, only quiet thought. The Spaniard had never been good at reading people, but he felt anxiety twisting in his stomach…and then the Italian spoke.

"If you're gonna do it…swear to me."

Antonio's eyes widened and he hesitated for a moment before nodding stiffly. Despite his experience, he had never sworn this way before or had anyone else make him such a promise. He didn't know if there were certain words he was supposed to say or anything else that he was supposed to do. With trembling hands, he reached for Lovino's pants again, and the Italian turned his gaze away, face tinted a bright red as he frowned.

"I will pay my debt, I promise you," he said, sliding the Mafioso's pants back down and hooking his fingers over the hem of his boxers. He lowered them slowly, heart pounding as he wet his lips, trying to mentally prepare himself for what he was about to do.

Lovino's face was as flushed as the Spaniard's. He couldn't look at himself when Antonio exposed him, and even now, he seemed to be focusing on a spot on the wall behind his head. He stayed silent until the other man took a hold of his member and let out a gasp when Antonio encased it in his mouth. The Spaniard lay down on his stomach and went to work right away, sucking and licking the length from base to tip. He pulled it out of his mouth slowly and tantalizingly and slipped his tongue across the slit as Lovino moaned above him, digging his fingers into Antonio's hair. The Spaniard knew he wasn't required to do more than suck him off, but there was no reason he couldn't give the other man the best experience possible. It might even earn him some points. Without a further thought, he took the rest of the Mafioso into his hand and began to roll his balls around in his palm, earning more gasps and hums. He had to admit, the sounds he was hearing were starting to turn him on even though he was the one doing all the pleasuring.

Lovino was starting to pant harder now. He thrust into Antonio's mouth forcefully as the other continued to bob his head up and down, lips tightening and loosening around his cock. The Spaniard could tell he was close, so he braced himself and gave Lovino's dick one especially hard pull with his lips, while at the same time, lightly squeezing his sac. Sure enough, the Italian went stiff and released himself into Antonio's mouth. The Spaniard coughed and sputtered, attempting to swallow it all, but some of Lovino's semen leaked out of his mouth and dribbled down his chin.

Antonio sat up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Lovino was still breathing heavily, small shivers of pleasure running up and down his skin in an afterglow. Antonio took in the sight of him and felt a blush spread across his cheeks. The man was so…cute.

Lovino wasn't expecting a hand to come out and caress the side of his face. He blinked and looked up at the man questioningly. Antonio only smiled back at him.

"Did it feel good?"

The Mafioso flushed furiously, sinking back into his shoulders in embarrassment and smacking the Spaniard's hand away.

"S-shut up! You know how it felt…"

"No," Antonio responded honestly, shuffling uncomfortably with his half-hardness, "but I wish I did."

Lovino scoffed, pulling his boxers back up and beginning to adjust his pants. He didn't look up at the other man, but when he did, Antonio was surprisingly close. Lovino leaned away, glaring at the other man.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Nothing, I just…"

He and the Italian stared at one another wordlessly for a moment, Lovino waiting for an answer and Antonio trying to figure out what to say. The Italian looked like he had enjoyed himself, but Antonio knew it had just been business; now he had something on him, a piece of blackmail to use in case the Spaniard didn't make good on his promise. But Antonio himself wanted something more, and it was a need he was having trouble coping with.

"Well?" Lovino asked impatiently. "If we're done here, I'll be on my-"

Antonio grabbed his hand.

"Wait. Don't go. I-I think I have an idea…"

Lovino raised an eyebrow.

"About what?"

"About how I can…pay you back. You see, I don't have many possessions, but I do have…well, me."

The Mafioso stared at him for a moment, trying to make sense of this statement. When he finally realized what the Spanish man was implying, his face turned a whole darker shade of red and he suddenly looked very flustered.

"I don't need a whore," the Italian said finally. "If you're going to sell yourself to come up with the money, you'd better find someone else, dammit."

He pulled his hand away, but not roughly like Antonio expected with such a rejection, but slowly, almost reluctantly. Maybe it was just what Antonio wanted to see, but he felt like he might still have a chance. He withdrew his hand and stared back at Lovino, studying his face.

"I'm not a whore," he told him. "I'm just a guardian. It's the greatest thing I could ever hope to be…and if I have to do this to protect what's important to me, then I will."

The Mafioso scoffed again.

"Even give up the last shred of dignity you have left?"

Antonio nodded. "Even that."

Lovino gave him a doubtful look as if he wasn't quite sure if the man would really follow through with this offer. When he spoke, they were not the words Antonio expected to hear- neither a direct rejection or acceptance. In fact, they caught the Spaniard completely off-guard.

"As if one time would be enough to settle your whole debt."

The Spaniard flinched and stared down at the floor. Well, maybe the man was right. Antonio wasn't sure how much he was worth, but the Mafioso didn't seem to put a very high price on him.

"I didn't borrow that much," he told him, "but if one time's not enough, you can have more…until you're satisfied. You do have the power to do that, right?"

He wasn't sure what Lovino's position was. Maybe he didn't even have the authority to accept Antonio's offer. His response told him differently, however.

"Of course I do," he said. "I'm…very close to the Don, dammit."

"I thought so…You look a lot like him, you know. Are you his son?"

He knew whoever the Don had sent must have been related to him somehow or at least connected by marriage, but he hadn't expected to see someone who might be part of his immediate family. There was a definite likeness, though, and even though Antonio had never seen the young man before, he recognized the similarities. Lovino glowered at him in response to his question, but finally, he gave a nod of confirmation.

"Yeah, I am."

"I heard he had a son, but I thought his name was, what was it…Feliciano?"

At that, Lovino stiffened. The annoyance in his face turned to pure anger and he slammed his hand down on the hard wooden floor, making Antonio wince.

"That idiot…He's always the one everyone's heard of, but he's not his only son, dammit! I'm the oldest! I was there first."

There was a pained look in his face beneath the fury that even Antonio could not miss. He was certain he had heard of the Don only having one son. At least…that's what everyone said. Could it be that this young man wasn't recognized? Maybe illegitimate? He frowned, furrowing his brows as he searched for something to say.

"We…we're same," he told him, finally. "Tell me, Lovino - do you really like the kind of life you have right now?"

The Mafioso looked suddenly shocked and then upset at the question. He glared at Antonio, face still tinted and with as much anger in his voice as before, but at a much lower volume.

"What kind of question is that, bastard? I'm not going to sit here and listen to you try to trick me."

"You hate it, don't you? You were born into it, and now you're stuck."

"Shut UP!"

"Shh!" Antonio hissed. "The children…"

"I don't fucking CARE!" Lovino shouted. "I didn't come here for this! I won't-"

The Italian was suddenly cut off as Antonio leaned forward and grabbed a hold of the back of his neck, pulling him close and silencing him in the most effective way the man knew how. It had been so long since he'd kissed anyone, but the Spaniard was no novice. He pushed his lips against the startled Italian's and moved his tongue out to enter the stranger's mouth, meeting a resistance of closed teeth and angry grunting. Antonio was sucking on his bottom lip when Lovino pulled away furiously, attempting to smack the man but failing when the other intercepted him and grabbed a hold of his hand.

"Fucking bastard…I'll kill you!" he growled as he narrowed his eyes at Antonio. With his free hand, he reached into his jacket's inside pocket and took out a gun, clicking off the safety and pointing it at the other man. "Let go."

The Spaniard didn't even flinch, ignoring the death threat as he stared back at Lovino with a changed expression. He was no longer the scared, cowering orphanage owner begging for a bit of mercy from the younger man. He was the Mafioso, Antonio Carriedo, a shadow of his former self. Lovino locked eyes with him for a moment but soon found he couldn't hold his gaze, his left hand trembling slightly as he gripped the gun. Despite the power he held and as tough as he might act, the Italian was still intimidated. He pressed the barrel to Antonio's hand until the other released his strong hold on him. The two stared at each other, and after a short, heavy silence, Antonio finally spoke.

"Give me a chance," he said in a low voice. "If I can't satisfy you…then you can do whatever you want with me. But I'm confident that you won't be disappointed. You'll see. I am a man of passion, after all."

With that, he reached up to stroke his hair. The Italian stared back at him in utter disbelief. He couldn't let the bastard get away with this! He was the Don's son! He deserved respect. But damn…if he wasn't curious about what the Spaniard was so confident about. This isn't happening, he told himself as Antonio stroked his locks. Wasn't he afraid the Mafioso would blow his head off? The Italian didn't know how to handle someone who didn't cower in fear in front of him. Just shoot him, a voice inside his head urged, but Lovino finally admitted to himself…that he really didn't want to.

Antonio was smiling at him. Smiling. As if Lovino didn't have the power to end his life right then and there. The Italian gritted his teeth. How could the other man look at him like that? How could he sit there while Lovino threatened him and then give him a look filled with a strange mix of what the Italian could only describe as aggressive lust and gentle desire? There was something very different about this guy…

The man's other hand was already at his hip, fingers curling around the hem of his pants for a moment before sliding over to the front to undo his zipper again. Lovino clicked the safety back on and returned the gun to its place within his jacket hesitantly. He shrugged the garment off but kept it within his reach…just in case he needed it. The Spaniard paid it no mind. Instead, he leaned closer to Lovino, running his tongue along the outside of his lips and making a daring attempt to enter his mouth again. The Italian resisted at first but finally gave in and opened his mouth for the other man, allowing his tongue to twine with his own. When Antonio started to press himself against the other man and fondle him, however, Lovino finally pulled back.

"Wait," he told him. "If we're gonna to do this, it's gonna to be by my rules. Your clothes come off first."

Antonio nodded and sat back, hooking his fingers at the bottom of his shirt and pulling it up slowly over his head, inch by inch, giving the other man a show. Lovino grunted in annoyance at first, but couldn't help but admire the Spaniard's body. He was awfully skinny, but not gaunt. He still had that sleek, dark skin that captured the Italian's attention and made him eager to see more. When Antonio finished removing his shirt, he reached down to unbuckle his pants, but the Italian stopped him.

"I'll do that. Just lie down."

Antonio obeyed and lay himself flat on the wooden floor. At least the heat from the fireplace warmed him. Lovino knelt down at his side and finished unfastening him. With a jerk, he lowered the Spaniard's pants as Antonio lifted his hips helpfully. Lovino pulled them all the way off after removing the man's shoes. It was very strange for Antonio to be undressed like this, but it was kind of turning him on, making him harder. When Lovino got to lowering his boxers, the length that was waiting under them was already at full mast.

"Eager, much?" the Italian muttered and got to work removing his own clothes.

Antonio blushed and looked down at himself self-consciously. He'd be embarrassed if he came too fast, but it had been so long since he'd gotten a lay. He was already longing to have the other man's bare flesh pressed against him, but Lovino was undressing so slowly. The Italian smirked at him, as if sensing his pain. He pulled his shirt over his head and climbed on top of Antonio, the rough fabric of his pants meeting the Spaniard's neediest area, but it was better than nothing. Antonio took a hold of the Italian's smaller frame as Lovino gripped his shoulders and settled himself comfortably on the other man. The Spaniard ran a hand over the Mafioso's chest, finding a nipple and giving the nub a light squeeze. Lovino gave a small gasp and pulled himself further up over the Spaniard, until his pecs were level with Antonio's mouth.

"Suck," he ordered, and the man complied, coming up to rest on his elbows and taking the small ring of pink flesh into his mouth.

Lovino opened his mouth as he felt the hot, wet tongue slip over one of his hardening nipples. Antonio pinched the sensitive skin gently between his teeth and flicked his tongue over it again, eliciting a moan from the one above him. The sounds the Italian was making were so arousing. Antonio tried to move his hips despite being pinned under the Mafioso's weight. Lovino steadied himself with one hand and ran the other through Antonio's brown wavy hair, stroking down and gripping the short locks at the base of his neck. His moans and the way he pressed his chest against the Spaniard's mouth while squeezing his middle between his knees were already causing Antonio's cock to leak with precum. He wanted to be on the receiving end of pleasure so badly, but the small amount of contact Lovino made with him just wasn't enough. He didn't stop or protest, though. After all, this wasn't about him. He was servicing a client. When the Italian had had enough of his suckling, he pulled back and sat on Antonio's stomach, looking down at the other man.

Antonio couldn't help but admire the sight in front of him. This man's body was so fit, his skin sleek and olive-toned, his chest still spotted pink and red from where Antonio had tasted him. His amber eyes stared down at him lustfully, with a want that made the Spaniard eager to hear his next request.

"You really are good at what you do," the Italian panted, "but I bet you can do better." He took a minute to clear his throat, swallowing thickly as he kept his eyes locked on Antonio's face before moving down to the Spaniard's chest. "Touch me."

Antonio didn't need another invitation. At once, his hands were on the man on top of him, stroking down his sides, ghosting over his chest…Antonio slid them down to Lovino's hips before attacking the Mafioso's zipper. He was going to need better access after all. Lovino shifted on top of him, seeing that the man was having trouble doing this while trapped beneath him. The Italian moved back until he was sitting on the Spaniard's lap, being careful not to brush the erection as he repositioned himself. Antonio's cock twitched painfully in neglect, but he ignored it and focused on his task. He sat up, opening Lovino's pants wide and pushing them down. As far as he could, anyway.

"C-could you stand up, please?" he asked nervously, not sure how the Mafioso would react to a request from the one who was supposed to be submissive.

The Italian pushed himself to his feet however, kicking off his shoes and waiting for Antonio to rise as well and finish removing his pants. The Spaniard shivered- it was colder up here than on the floor- but he had some ideas about how he could warm up. He pulled the other man's pants to the floor and slipped his hands inside Lovino's boxers. He started cupping his ass, bringing his head down to press his lips against the Italian's shoulder and trailing small kisses all along his neck. He started kneading Lovino's cheeks, one in each hand as the shorter man grunted and pressed himself against him. Yes, that was more like it…Antonio's cock was sandwiched in between them, allowing Antonio to give it some friction as he moved against the other man in a slow, rhythmic motion. He could feel Lovino's cock hardening between them as well. He slid one hand to the front and took the Italian's member, pumping it as he continued to thrust himself against the smaller man's side and listening to Lovino's moans. It felt so good and- No, it was too much! He wasn't going to be able to hold out much longer. Lovino's hands were gripping his sides one moment and squeezing his ass the next, teeth were sinking into his shoulder, marking him, leaving the skin bright red, and then-! Antonio released himself onto Lovino's hip, spilling white sticky liquid all over him. The Spaniard froze for a moment and then shivered, enjoying the waves of pleasure that coursed through his body until suddenly, his cock was painfully squeezed.

"Couldn't wait, could you?"

Antonio winced in pain. Had he made the other man angry? He thought the Italian had been enjoying himself, but when he pulled back to look into Lovino's eyes questioningly, all he saw was a hungry glare directed back at him.

"Get your hands off me and turn around," the Mafioso ordered, letting him go.

The Spaniard complied, still a bit baffled by Lovino's sudden change of mind and renewed aggression. The Italian pushed him away and lowered his hands to the hem of his own boxers, pulling them down and freeing his erection. Antonio stared at the wall above the fireplace before he was roughly shoved towards it. Hands outstretched, he caught himself on the mantle and dared to glance back over his shoulder. Lovino was standing behind him, gripping his hips possessively, his eyes still dangerous and his voice as sharp as a dagger.

"I'm going to fuck you now," the Italian told him, "but you're not going to come until I tell you so. Got it?"

Antonio nodded weakly. He had known this was coming after all. He just wasn't sure he was prepared of it. Lovino got to work on one interpretation of that problem right away. He ran his fingers up his side, coating them in the cum Antonio had left there. Then, the Mafioso took a hold of one of those rounded cheeks in front of him and ran his fingers around it, outlining Antonio's ass admiringly before grabbing the bottom of one side and spreading it apart to gain a better view of where he'd be prodding.

"Bend over further," he ordered.

The Spaniard did so and shifted nervously as he felt one slicked finger touch his entrance before it pushed its way in invasively. Antonio grunted, feeling Lovino's digit move around inside him before being joined by a second. The Italian coated him as generously as possible and hooked his fingers inside Antonio, watching the other man squirm. The feeling was so bizarre that the Spaniard had to will himself not to pull away. He knew a bigger intrusion was coming. When Lovino added a third finger, Antonio whimpered and moved his hips, which Lovino made sure to keep a strong hold on.

"Quiet," he murmured. "We've barely even started."

"Sorry…" the other man responded quietly.

He waited until Lovino had retracted his fingers and closed his eyes, bracing himself, but before he felt any pain, a hand came around his waist and grabbed onto his cock. His eyes widened in surprise as Lovino's thumb swept across the tip, causing Antonio to shiver and grunt before the hand moved down to grip him tightly around the base. The Spaniard could feel the other man's chin on his back as their bodies pressed closer together. He could also feel his own heart and Lovino's beating faster in excitement when suddenly, the moment he had been anticipating came, and the Italian thrust himself inside the other man.

Antonio bit back a cry as he felt the Mafioso move inside him, the hand that wasn't on his cock gripping the Spaniard's hip and squeezing it tightly. Lovino closed his eyes as he thrust deep, forcing Antonio to bend down even more. The other man whimpered and held onto the mantle as he bowed his head, trying to move with the thrusts while not being forced too close the fire.

"Damn…perfect ass…so tight," the Italian grunted as he pounded into him.

Antonio blushed at the compliment, if that's what it was. He could feel sweat running down his face from the heat of the fire and from their movements. He wished Lovino would pump his cock, but he knew the other was too lost in his own pleasure to do him such a favor. With one hand, he continued to brace himself and brought the other one down towards his aching area, but Lovino gripped him tighter in a warning, and Antonio let his hand drop to his side for a moment before bringing it back up to the mantle.

"Only I…get to…touch you…" the Mafioso breathed.

To make his point, the Italian loosened his hold on the other man's cock slightly and began to stroke it. Antonio moaned and pushed himself back and forth in the other man's hand, rocking with the thrusts. Lovino took full control, pumping him forcefully and pushing himself deep within the man, trying different angles to see what felt the best. When he struck a certain spot within Antonio, the Spaniard cried out before covering his own mouth, shocked at his own reaction and embarrassed that he had been so loud. Lovino smirked and tried to hit the spot again, knowing he was successful by the whines Antonio made as the Spaniard bit down on his own hand to stifle them. This feeling of control, the ability to make another person writhe like this- it was all the Mafioso wanted. His breathing became heavier against the skin on the Spaniard's back and his thrusts became more rapid. He pulled on Antonio's hardened cock more forcefully until he felt the man under him begin to tremble. At once, he gripped the base, ignoring Antonio's whimper of protest as he thrust into the Spaniard a few more times and finally released, shooting his seed deep within the other man. Antonio's mouth fell open at the strange sensation of being filled, and he squirmed in the Italian's grip. Lovino leaned heavily against his back and quivered in an afterglow, slowly resuming his pumping as Antonio wriggled beneath him.

"Come for me, bastard," the Italian gasped and licked his way up Antonio's spine as he jerked him off.

The Spaniard gasped and followed through on Lovino's order, shooting his seed up his stomach and into the fireplace. The low embers sizzled and Antonio hung onto the mantel limply before sliding down to knee on the floor. Lovino went with him, staying inside the other man for a moment before pulling out and leaning back to sit on the floor behind him, still panting. Antonio lay down next to the fireplace, trembling with each new wave of pleasure. His ass hurt from Lovino's rough treatment, but it had felt so good…Antonio never imagined he'd enjoy being taken by another man so much.

Lovino reached for his boxers and put them back on shakily. He finished dressing and lay back down on the floor in exhaustion. Antonio rose after a moment and dressed as well before taking his place beside Lovino, closer to the fire. The two lay together in silence, with the only sound being the weakening embers making the wood crackle in the fireplace. Antonio glanced at the Mafioso out of the corner of his eye, but Lovino was just staring at the ceiling, his chest rising with each inhaled breath. The Italian shivered from the cold, and Antonio sat up to grab one of the blankets he had set out earlier and pulled it over both of them. He scooted closer to the other man and hesitantly wrapped his arm around his body, pulling him to the warmth of his chest. Lovino went stiff for a moment, but didn't protest. Instead, he settled himself against the Spaniard, shifting around for a moment before lying still.

"I-I'm not staying here tonight," he informed him.

Antonio raised his eyebrows, though he knew the other wasn't looking at him.

"But it's freezing outside! It'd be better if you waited until the morning to leave. That way you're not stumbling around a blizzard in the dark!"

"And what about when your brats wake up?" Lovino growled. "You want those little snots to find us like this?"

"We can wake up before them," Antonio replied, "and don't call them that! My children are adorable!"

"Pfft. You sound like a father."

"I am their father. Well, the closest thing they have to one…"

"Only until someone else is. What happens when someone takes one away?" Lovino muttered to him tiredly. "Ya miss them?"

Antonio was quiet for a moment before answering, remembering those children who had left him, some with a family, others with angels. Once they were gone, the orphanage owner felt as if he would never see them again, but a part of him knew- goodbyes were never really forever.

"Always," he answered finally. "When they leave, they take a piece of my heart with them. But those that find better homes are surely happier where they are."

"How do you know?"

Antonio smiled. "I just do."

"Tch…naïve bastard," Lovino murmured, running a hand up inside Antonio's shirt and tracing a thumb over the Spaniard's ribs. The guy really was skinny. How did a former Mafioso live like this? It was more than the Italian could wrap his head around- not the part about being poor and desperate, but being poor and desperate and still having enough room in his heart to care about someone so much. Lovino had never come across anyone like that before.

"I really love them," Antonio said quietly. "They're the only part of my life I'm proud of."

"Because the kind of life I have is so horrible?" Lovino scoffed bitterly.

The Spaniard gave a weak laugh.

"The Mafia has a way of wearing you down…I didn't hate it completely. There were times when the rush and excitement were all I needed. But I ended up finding people who needed me more, and now I could never turn my back on them."

Loyalty was something Lovino understood. He had no choice but to obey his family and his father, the Don's, wishes. It was true that most of his loyalty was born of fear, but there was also an attachment he felt to his own flesh and blood. It was possible Antonio felt this attachment too, even though his children weren't really his…They were bastards. Bastards that were loved. Bastards that weren't forgotten.

Antonio didn't notice a tear falling down Lovino's hidden face. He only heard the Mafioso's voice come out sounding a bit strangled when he finally spoke again.

"Why'd they let you leave?"

"Heh…They didn't 'let' me. I left. There was nothing more for me to do there. I turned over control to the next person in line and went on my way."

Lovino took a second to process this before going stiff in shock.

"W-wait…you-? You turned over…How?"

Another laugh.

"Didn't your father tell you he was sending you to collect from an ex-Don?"

Lovino gaped and stared at the man with wide eyes. It was hard to see the Spaniard in the low light, but the Italian could tell he was smirking. The Italian felt a mix of horror and unexpected pride filling his chest. He had fucked a Don…His face burned red and he turned away from the other man to hide it.

"What's wrong?" Antonio asked, pressing himself against Lovino's back and spooning him. "Are you shocked?"

"As if someone like you could be a Don," the Italian muttered in reply.

"Someone like me, huh? Well, I guess those days are long over. I prefer to keep it that way." He stroked Lovino's side despite the glare the other man threw him over his shoulder. "You really are cute, you know."

"You want a bullet in your brain?"

"Shh, shh…I was just saying-"

"Keep your mouth shut, or I'll have another round with your ass."

"Okay, okay, sorry," Antonio whispered as he buried his nose in Lovino's hair. He debated whether or not further action would earn him a gun pointed to his head before taking his chances and planting a small kiss behind the Italian's ear. "Goodnight."


Marco's shriek startled Antonio awake. He opened his eyes wide, forgetting everything that had happened the night before for a moment as he looked at the hyper child in front of him.

"It's Christmas! It's Christmas!" Marco yelled gleefully, running towards the Christmas tree. "And Santa brought us presents! Real presents!"

He tackled the box that had his name on it and started passing around the rest to the other children. Antonio blinked and realized all of his other children were spread around the living room, all of them watching him or focused on their gifts. Cecile came up and planted a kiss on his cheek.

"Merry Christmas, Tio Toño!"

The other children joined in the greeting. Antonio beamed at them, heart full of happiness at their excited faces before his expression changed as he remembered his late night visitor.


His eyes darted around the living room, but there was no sign of the Italian or anything indicating that he had ever been there. The Spaniard frowned in disappointment. He hadn't even gotten the chance to say goodbye.

"Tio Toño, what's wrong?" Cecile asked.

"Nada, mi cielo," Antonio said, patting her head gently. "I'm just sad I missed Santa Claus."

"How could you have missed him?" Marco laughed. "You were sleeping next to the fireplace!"

"Yes, well, I must have slept too deeply," the man chuckled.

He had just risen to his feet to go find the children something to eat for breakfast, when suddenly there was a knock on the door. Hm? Who could that be? Antonio wondered. One of the neighbors must have come to wish him a Merry Christmas. He walked over to the door, a bit of pain in each step, and opened it wide. He jumped slightly in shock at the one before him. There, on his doorstep, bundled up from head to foot and holding a giant turkey on a tray before him, was none other than Lovino Vargas.

"L-lovino?" he stuttered in disbelief.

Marco peeked around his leg and the other children watched curiously from the hallway.

"Hey," the Italian muttered, looking down at his offering embarrassedly, feet shuffling in the snow.

"Lovino?" Marco asked. "Isn't that what you called Santa Claus?"

Antonio laughed and nodded, still unable to believe the other man had come back.

"Yes! This is Santa Claus! Let's invite him in, shall we?"

"What did you call-?" Lovino started to growl before he was pulled inside, turkey and all.

Before he knew it, the Italian was swarmed by children. They surrounded him, pulling at his pants' legs and staring wide-eyed at the large platter he held.

"What's that?"

"Did Santa bring us more presents?"

"I love my new doll! Thank you, Santa!"

"Something smells good!"

The Mafioso stared back at them, baffled, not sure what to say or even how to react. Antonio just grinned widely at him.

"Come now, give Santa some space!" he laughed, shooing the children back so Lovino could move again.

"S-stop calling me that, dammit," Lovino murmured. "I'm not fucking Santa Claus."

"Lovino, language…" Antonio pleaded, looking down at the little ones.

The Mafioso glared at him, but didn't hold it long. Instead, he held out the turkey, shoving the platter towards Antonio.

"Here, take it."

Antonio stared down at the turkey, as if seeing it for the first time.

"R-really? All this is for us?"

"Well, I didn't bring it over here to eat it myself, dam-! Hmph. Just feed them, will you? I…I've got to go."

"Waaait!" the other man cried, almost flinging the turkey off the platter as he tried to stop the Italian from leaving. "Why don't you stay with us? I know I don't have much to offer, but there's always more room by the fireplace!"

Lovino twitched slightly for a reason Antonio completely missed. When he had composed himself, he simply shook his head and turned towards the door.

"No, I can't. I don't belong here. I-"

He felt a hand suddenly grab his. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Antonio balancing the platter precariously in one hand while grasping onto him with the other. His green eyes shone with welcoming amusement- happy, reassuring.

"You're always welcome here, Lovino. I never thought you'd do something so…so nice! Muchas gracias…"

The Mafioso stared back at him for a moment, face burning red, before finally opening his mouth to say something. Unfortunately, Marco beat him to it.

"Well, duh! He's Santa Claus."

Antonio couldn't help but burst out in laughter. Lovino yanked his hand away, conscious of all the small pairs of eyes locked on him. The Spaniard gave him an apologetic smile and jerked his head towards the living room.

"Come on, Lovi," he coaxed, trying out a new nickname. "I'm sure you're not in a hurry to go out in the cold again."

Lovino glared at him, crossing his arms. Just because Antonio had been a former Don didn't mean he could call him whatever he wanted. The Mafioso was about to forget the innocent ears present and mouth off at him again when suddenly, at least five pairs of tiny hands grabbed onto his pants and proceeded to drag him in the direction of Antonio.

"W-wha-? Hey!"

He was tempted to kick or struggle, but he had a feeling "Daddy" wouldn't react well to having his kids throttled, so instead, he let himself be herded into the living room where Antonio was already making himself comfortable after quickly setting the turkey down in the kitchen and grabbing some bread for the children's breakfast.

"Take a seat, Lovi, and let me introduce you to everyone! This little cutie is Cecile, that charmer is Marco, then you've got Luis, Carla, Alejandro…"

By the time they had finished their introductions and every child had shown Lovino their favorite toy and/or talked his ears off, it was time for lunch. Antonio went to the kitchen and took out a knife to carve up the turkey. Lovino followed hesitantly as the children plowed their way to the dining room table, filling up the long rows of seats.

"Would you mind grabbing some drinks, Lovino?" Antonio asked, gesturing towards the cupboard where an assortment of cups sat.

The Mafioso gave a slight nod and went to set them on the table. When he opened the small refrigerator to look for some kind of beverage, though, all he found was some milk and water. Sighing, he grabbed the milk, hoping there was enough to go around. The children were chattering excitedly in their seats as Antonio began to serve them. They wriggled excitedly, and the Spanish man had to gently remind them to wait until everyone had a plate before digging in. Lovino divided the milk between all the cups he had placed on the counter and delivered them to the kids as well. It was so strange for him; the Mafioso never took care of anyone but himself, but he didn't hate it. It was just kind of awkward and embarrassing. Antonio almost thought he saw the corner of the Italian's mouth twitch when the children smiled back up at him.

"Thanks, Santa!"

"Scrawny little things. Make sure you drink it all, all right?" Lovino murmured back at them.

The kids just laughed and waited for Antonio to give them the go ahead. Once he did, they devoured their food with gusto like Lovino had never seen. The Italian stared down at his own plate with a stoic expression on his face.

"Lovi? Aren't you going to eat?" Antonio asked, glancing at him questioningly.

The Mafioso sighed and pushed his plate towards the Spaniard.

"I'm not hungry, dammit. You take it- these kids aren't the only ones who are too damn skinny."

Antonio frowned at his word choice and furrowed his brows in confusion when he tried to figure out why Lovino didn't want his food. Then he saw the hungry stares the children were throwing the Italian's plate and knew. Those begging faces were hard to ignore. He smiled at the other man and nodded, taking his plate. He then proceeded to cut up the turkey on it and give an extra bit to each child. Lovino shook his head. The bastard could never just think of himself.

"Thank you, Lovino," Antonio said with a smile.

All he got in return was a light scoff, and then, the Italian rose to his feet. He looked at the Spaniard's startled expression. He looked at the children absorbed in eating their food. And finally, he made his way to the other side of the table and headed out into the hallway, without looking back at all. Immediately, he heard the sound of a chair being pushed out and quick footsteps coming up behind him. Lovino quickened his pace, and it wasn't until he was nearly at the door that the other man caught up with him.

"L-lovi! Wait!"

The Mafioso turned back to scowl at the orphanage owner.

"It's time for me to go. I've already stayed here too fucking long."

"But you don't have to leave!"

Lovino stared at him, the same sour expression on his face, but there was also some confusion present in his eyes. Antonio returned the baffled look. The Spaniard really couldn't understand why Lovino wanted to go, while the Italian was having a difficult time determining what it was that made this man think that he ought to stay.

"Why?" the Mafioso asked finally. "Why shouldn't I?"

He needed to hear a reason- just one good reason. Hopefully that would be enough to help him understand the Spaniard and why he acted the way he did. Though he himself did not know why, Lovino was intent on making sense of this man who called himself an ex-Don. Right now, Antonio was looking nowhere near as confident as any leader should. He bit his lip nervously as he searched for the right words while the Italian stood in front of him, waiting for an answer.

"I think you should get out," the Spaniard said finally.

"Get out-?"

He was already on his way out the fucking door!

"Get out of the Mafia."

Lovino froze. He threw the other man an incredulous look- surprise, anger, and something like regret all rolled into one. Antonio hadn't been expecting a good reaction to his proposal, but Lovino's silence was worse than anything he could have said. The Spaniard glanced down at his feet uncertainly. He didn't know exactly how to convince the Mafioso that leaving his family was a good idea even though in his mind it was the obvious choice. It hadn't been easy for him to leave himself; he knew how stressful and heartbreaking it could be to break off ties with one's family, and in his case, he had had to pay a couple of people off to let him go without a fuss. The end result of leaving hadn't been pleasant either. They treat you like you're dead. And for many members of course, it wasn't an option at all.

"Think about it, please," he begged. "I've seen a lot of young men die young living your kind of life. I don't want you to be one of them. If something happened-"

"What?" Lovino snapped, interrupting him. "Why do you fucking care? Before last night you didn't even know me. Now all of a sudden, you're trying to tell me what to do with my life? What makes you think you have that right, dammit? This is who I am; I'm not going to change it just because some dirt poor bastard thinks I should. Where would I go? What would I do? You think I want to end up like you, wiping up some kids' snot and eating like there's a fucking famine? No, thanks. I don't have the best life, but it's mine. It's…it's all I have."

His voice faltered at the end, angry yelling giving way to a subdued croak as his throat tightened. Antonio stared back at him, gaping and unable to hide the hurt in his eyes. Lovino showed little remorse for his harsh words, but he couldn't bring himself to look at the other man anymore. Silently, he turned towards the door and reached for the knob.

"Lovino," Antonio's voice called out behind him quietly. "It's not your only choice."

The Italian's hand tightened on the doorknob. The other man came up to him and wrapped his arms around his waist. Lovino's breath hitched. He stole a glance at the other man over his shoulder and let out a low grunt as the other one squeezed him tighter.

"W-what are you doing, bastard?" he muttered, his face turning red.

Didn't the idiot remember that his precious children were sitting at the kitchen table, not too far from where they were?

"Don't go," the Spaniard murmured as he buried his nose in Lovino's hair.

Lovino closed his eyes tightly and willed himself to shove the other man away. He couldn't.

"I have to," he said finally. "I'm not like you. I don't have a choice."

"You always have a choice."


"Please, Lovi…"

When the other didn't answer, Antonio took a hold of his arm and tried to turn him around, but the Italian planted his feet stubbornly and placed his hand on the Spaniard's, shaking his head. Antonio released him and instead, reached out to touch the Mafioso's shoulder, rubbing it gently with his thumb.

"At least promise you'll be back," the man insisted. "I still owe you after all."

Lovino flinched, his voice wavering a bit as he spoke unsteadily.

"Y-you don't owe me anything, dammit…"

"But the debt-"

"I paid it already!"

Now it was Antonio's turn to jump in surprise. Lovino had spun to glare at him, and the Spaniard could see the glint in his eyes that showed they had been watering. He could barely comprehend the behavior of the other man or the words he had said, he was so flustered.

"A-already?" he finally managed to repeat.

Lovino nodded slightly.

"I left the money with my old man before I came here. I told him it was from you."


"Don't look at me like that! It wasn't charity, dammit! We had a deal…"

"I don't remember a turkey being part of that deal."

The Italian frowned and turned away again without responding. Antonio couldn't help but smile at the other's embarrassment. Why was it so hard for the Italian to admit that he had cared? He still couldn't make sense of what went through the other man's head, but he realized it didn't really matter anymore. He could take his time figuring him out.

"Come back again soon, Lovi."

Silence and then- "…Maybe."

With that, the Mafioso pushed his way out the door and ventured into the cold outdoors. Antonio watched him go, tears running down his face even as he smiled after him. In his heart, he knew it wouldn't be the last time he saw the Italian, but it was still painful. He saw so much of himself in the man, and it killed him to think of someone else trapped in that life. Maybe soon, he'd break free.Take care of yourself, Lovi. Antonio thought. And that part of me you have now.

He turned around and headed back towards the kitchen where the rest of his heart was waiting.

The End

Omake in script style:

Antonio: *walks back into the kitchen*
Marco: You lied to us, Tio Toño!
Antonio: Eh? How?
Marco: You said Santa was big and fat! He didn't even eat his turkey!
Antonio: Oh, well, um…Maybe Santa's been working out! Yes, that must be it. He must be on a diet and is getting a lot of exercise.
Marco: From his naked wrestling?
Antonio: W-WHAT?
Marco: You lost really bad, Tio!
Antonio: *dies*
(Don't look at me like that; you know they were making far too much noise…XD; )