The end!

The cheerful ding of the elevator arriving at its destination sounded and the heavy metal doors parted to reveal a familiar, meticulous waiting room. An olive-skinned young man glanced up and grinned. "Good morning, Antonio," Feliciano hummed cheerfully, taking a bite of some delicious-looking pastry on his desk.

"It's afternoon, actually," Antonio said, checking his watch. He was going back to work slowly, only working half days, so he got off at one. Perfect time to go for his meeting with Ludwig. He had suggested they just go to his house, but Ludwig, being Ludwig, had insisted that they make it a formal meeting at his office.

Feliciano glanced at his watch-free wrist and then at the computer before him, fork in hand. "Ooh, it is! Oops!" He gave Antonio a silly grin. "Ludwig hasn't had many patients today, so I just thought it was morning. He's finishing up soon. How are you?" And, a bit more guarded, "How's Lovi?"

"I'm fine. Lovino was complaining this morning that he has a fat ass, but I don't think that's much of a problem." After all, he quite enjoyed some junk in the trunk. "Oh, and the cats are great! We made an appointment to get Tomate de-clawed next week, and Oregano is nice and clean now."

Feliciano giggled and took another bite of the cake. "Those names are sooo cute! I'm glad the little baby doesn't miss his brothers and sisters too much. But you know..." He leaned forward conspiratorially, "I think Cannoli is pregnant again. Wilhelm really doesn't hold back!"

Antonio laughed at that. "Well, I think she likes it." Just then the door to Ludwig's office opened up and a small Asian man with a long ponytail walked out, bowing to the psychiatrist as he left.

"Bye bye, Yao!" Feliciano called cheerfully. "Have a safe trip home!" Cocking his head to the side with a grin Feliciano said, "Alright, sir, Dr. Weilschmidt is ready to see you now."

He rolled his eyes and went into the room. Well, he might as well get this over with then. "Hey Ludwig, nice to see you." Antonio smiled, acting nice. He still didn't really like the doctor, thanks to the part of him that was Spain, but he could pretend that he did.

Ludwig glanced up from his desk. "Good afternoon, Antonio. I hope you've been well." He stowed a file away under the desk and stood, making his way around to sit nearer to the Spaniard. "So tell me about your newest development."

"My newest development you say?" Antonio asked, sitting down. "Well, this morning I found that I rather like Lucky Charms cereal, but I don't think you mean that. It's simple: I'm both the Spain personality and the Antonio personality combined. Like I threw them into a blender to see what would happen."

Ludwig nodded and rested his left ankle over his right knee. "Yes, that. It's a little... difficult to believe, but I get the feeling you don't like me much." He folded his hands over his stomach, and the corners of his lips quirked upward very slightly. "But even so, your behavior is polite. I believe you." The German regarded him with subtle curiosity through his reading spectacles. "Why don't you tell me about how this dual perspective has changed life for you. Are you particularly anxious about things you weren't before? Do you find some tasks difficult where they once were simple? That sort of thing."

"I don't know... I don't like cooking anymore. That's something Lovino doesn't like. And I don't like housework either, but I still do it. Unlike Spain, I can control my anger, even though I still get fairly possessive of Lovi." Antonio leaned back and looked at the clock. Only five minutes down... Did these sessions always seem to drag on forever?

Ludwig nodded and cleared his throat. "Why, then, why do you not prefer to be referred to as 'Spain'? He seems to be the more dominant part of you. I would assume he would prefer the recognition. He loathed being referred to as Antonio."

The Spaniard shrugged, knowing that the doc was trying to pick him apart. "I wouldn't say the Spain part is more dominant. And I call myself Antonio because it makes Lovino feel better. Not to mention Antonio is the name on my birth certificate, and people look at me weird when I say my name is Spain."

"Now," Ludwig said, his voice a bit softer, "I say this on behalf of Feliciano. He's been worried. You've spoken quite a bit about Lovino. How is he coping with all this?"

Antonio looked to the clock, wishing this could be over sooner. "He basically considers me as the old Antonio. Wants me to cook like him, wants me to be like him. But it's better than when he was living with Spain."

Noticing his disinterest, Ludwig could not help but smile marginally. It was interesting that the middle ground between Spain's violent distaste and the previous Antonio's draining hopelessness was apathy toward treatment. He cleared his throat to regain Antonio's attention. "As part of you is Spain, does that bother you? And does he ever treat you as Spain?"

"Sometimes he'll try and get me to do something by saying that Spain would do it. And Spain never really cared what his name was, he just hated being associated with Antonio, so me being called Antonio is fine. I only came up with the name Spain in my late teens when I figured out what was wrong with me." To keep him occupied, he tried to figure out a way that he could move some of the organized files on Ludwig's desk without being noticed.

"So how do you feel about it now? Do you still think there is something wrong with you?"

Antonio gave a quick bark of laughter at that. "Of course there are things wrong with me. Everyone has problems. Like right now, my main problem is that since the change, Lovino and I haven't had sex. I don't want to pressure him, but it's time. What do you think I should do, doc?"

Ludwig blinked and paused, his mouth hanging open just a bit. Flustered, Ludwig grabbed the bottle of water on his desk and took a quick drink. "Ah... well I... that's not really my area of expertise, Antonio. But, erm..." He shifted awkwardly. "Well... have you... spoken with him about it? It won't necessarily put pressure on him if you... approach the issue delicately."

"Delicately? Well I mean he was up for a 69, but I just don't know how to ask him if he wants to go farther." Now Antonio was just enjoying watching Ludwig be all awkward. It was pretty hilarious.

The German, too flustered to see Antonio's amusement, had developed a furrow in his brow. Antonio was his patient and borderline friend, and if he was voicing a genuine concern, it was his duty to help however possible. "Ah. Well. You may... wish to speak with him about that. He sounds... rather open to you already."

Wanting to up the ante, the brunet leaned forward, a serious look on his face. "But you know Lovino, he doesn't really like talking about his feelings. I'm not sure what I should do... I mean, how did you first tell Feliciano you wanted to fuck him?"

Ludwig leaned back, blue eyes wide. He was about to protest when he remembered that half of this man was 'Spain'. It made sense that he would be so blunt, did it not? Though the logic did not quell the blush in his cheeks, it did help calm the nervous buzzing in his mind. "I believe our situations are very different," he answered, "and it would not be relevant to your problems."

"But they are brothers, right? Our situations may not be similar, but those two are. They grew up together, so maybe the same things would work?" Even though that wasn't true at all; Lovino was better in so many different ways. But this was just about getting Ludwig riled up enough so he would end this meeting early.

The blond shook his head. "But you have already... ahem... with Lovino when you were simply Antonio," Ludwig argued, taking another drink of water. "I don't think it would help. Do you have a-any other questions?"

That sounded like exactly what he wanted to hear. "No, I think we covered about everything. I should probably get going though. Thanks for the advice." Not.

Though there were forty-five entire minutes remaining, Ludwig realized that it could only become more uncomfortable if they continued along this path. He stood with Antonio, walking him to the door.

"Wow, that was fast. Bye-bye, Antonio. Don't be a stranger," Feliciano said cheerfully, waving when he walked by. "And tell Lovi to come visit me! I miss him!"

"Will do," Antonio replied and boarded the elevator, humming pleasantly to himself all the way down.

Antonio crawled in bed wearing only boxers. Long gone were the days when he was concerned about what he wore to bed. He cuddled up to Lovino, who was reading a book. "I am never going to a therapist again for anything."

Lovino rested his elbows on the arm draped over his abdomen, turning the page absently. "You mean the potato-fucker? Why?"

"Because they always try to get in my head. I've already had two people up there, I don't need anyone else." He started tugging on the book, wanting Lovino to put it down and go to sleep already. "What are you doing tomorrow? You said you wanted to start a new painting?"

Too drowsy to protest more than a grumble, Lovino let him, reaching over to turn the bedside lamp off. "Mm. Finally went shopping for new paints yesterday. If that bitch on the north side of town hadn't kept me until all hours of the evening, I could've started already. Fucking cunt didn't know whether to pick Eggshell or Dove White to match her damn sofa." He wriggled down until his head rested on the pillow, his side pressed against Antonio's stomach.

Antonio hummed in acknowledgment. "What are you painting? Hey, you could try painting the cats! I'm sure they would make a beautiful picture. Of course it might be difficult to get them to stay still, but you know what they look like anyway."

Lovino snorted. "Really? Cats, Antonio? Even if it is a step up from tomatoes, it's still fairly lame." He yawned and pulled the covers tightly over himself, curling into the warm body beside him.

"No, because they aren't just any old cats. They're our cats." Antonio scratched Oregano behind the ear affectionately and he started purring loudly. Of course, Tomate got jealous, so he scratched him.

Promptly, Lovino pushed them both over the edge of the bed, receiving a duo of protesting meows in response. "No fighting. This bedding was fucking expensive, and that little shit still isn't declawed."

Antonio rolled his eyes. "They just want to have fun. Besides, Tomate will be declawed soon. Let them play." He yawned and snuggled down into the blankets more, pulling Lovino closer to him. "Hey, you're... comfortable with me like this, right?"

Lovino's brow furrowed. He glanced up to about where he assumed Antonio's face was in the dark, waiting for his eyes to adjust. "Uh... yeah. Wouldn't do this if I wasn't. Why?"

"Well, a lot has changed since we last were... together. I just wanted to know if you still would rather have the old Antonio or something." After all, that would explain why they hadn't had sex yet. He didn't think it had been this long when they had started dating in the first place!

Lovino didn't say anything for a long time, and the room silent save for the ticking of the clock and the sound of tiny paws scampering over the hardwood floor. Then, "You know, I didn't hate Spain." He paused for a minute, his finger moving along the seam of the shirt tight around Antonio's shoulder. "Well. At the beginning I did, because... because I think I l... loved Antonio pretty early on. I didn't like to see him suffer for shit Spain didn't own up to. But I didn't really hate Spain." He blinked up again, still unable to see the Spaniard's face. His voice was quiet. "But damn, I loved Antonio. He was the only person to make me feel.. you know... a-anyway, I accepted that Spain was all that was left, so why wouldn't I accept you, dumbshit?"

"Accepting is one thing. Being happy with it is something completely different." Antonio traced patterns on Lovino's arm, just to have something to do. He wanted them to be like when the old Antonio was here. But he wasn't the old Antonio. And he would never be again.

Lovino hesitantly brought his own hand closer, curling it over Antonio's until it was still. "Y'know, I was starting to be happy with Spain?" he confessed, his voice small. "The fucker was a lazy piece of shit half the time, but he... he listened, even though he argued, and he stayed, even though that took some work on my part. It was just... he liked getting reactions out of people, and the ones he did the best and most were fuckin' hurtful." He winced, his throat tightening at the memory of the morning Spain completely took over and being told that Antonio didn't love him. He moved closer, tucking his head under Antonio's chin so that he couldn't be seen. "I did miss Antonio. But... if Spain were gone, I'd miss him, too." He cleared his throat. "Fuck this complicated shit. Why'd you have to bring it up?"

Antonio smiled. "Sorry. But thank you, that means a lot to me." He just couldn't bring up a conversation about sex now that Lovino had told him all that.

Lovino harrumphed in reply and simply moved half an inch closer before settling against Antonio - the new, yet still beloved Antonio - and murmured to him many things until both fell into a gentle, lulling slumber.

Breakfast was short and sweet, simply cereal and eggs, and as Antonio set about doing the dishes, Lovino went to gather his new and old paints. He spread an enormous plastic sheet over the floor and laid his easel down dead center. He worked swiftly and silently with the ease of a devoted artist, squirting a dollop of paint in a dozen tiny bowls, the colors vibrant and glorious: sunshine yellow, electric blue, scarlet. Through the door, which had been left open a crack, a small head poked in. Lovino didn't notice until little white paws padded silently on the edge of his canvas. "Stop!" Oregano paused, one of his ears twitching. Lovino frowned sternly. "Damn cat... you scared the shit out of me, and now look, I spilled the green! Dammit, lime isn't even my color, you little shit." Unconcerned, Oregano finished his trek over the canvas and perched on the edge nearest to Lovino.

Antonio poked his head around the door. Usually Lovino was silent when he painted. "What's wrong?" Then he looked at the picture and saw the green paw prints. "I think they would work well in a painting. Or we could get both cats to walk in colours, have paw prints all over."

"And get it all over my floor? Are you insane? Do you know how expensive this flooring was?" Lovino harped, batting Oregano's paw away when the curious tom tried to get in the sunset orange. "Knock it off, you useless mass of fur."

Tomate came to see what all the fuss was about, and he dove for the purple, knocking it over on the plastic and then rolled in it. "Well, it looks like we will have to give these two a bath anyway. And you have the plastic down." Antonio grinned as the kitten laid down on the canvas, getting the purple all over it.

"You- you- obstinate fuck!" he seethed at Tomate, who didn't even care to regard him while the cursing went on. The Italian growled and flicked the kitten's ear, earning a yelp and what might have been a glare. He scowled back and righted the bowl, muttering to himself about stupid cats and stupid boyfriends and in doing so failed to notice the feline form slinking up to him from the front. He gave a shout when Oregano lunged at him, clutching the cat and nearly falling back onto the canvas himself. "Dammit, Oregano!"

By this time Antonio was almost in tears for how hard he was laughing. "He wants to protect his kitty! And now you have green all over you!" Oh this was perfect! And now there was another trail of green paw prints across the middle of the canvas. Tomate was trying to lick himself so the Spaniard picked him up, not wanting him to get poisoning.

"Hardy har," Lovino chimed sarcastically, gently tugging Oregano's tail. "I don't know why you're trying to tease me- you're the fag covered in purple."

Antonio looked down himself and shrugged. He put Tomate down, making sure he wouldn't try to lick himself, and took off his shirt. "There, now only my hands are purple. So what are you going to do?"

Lovino glared down at the canvas and then up at his lover's toned body. An idea began to form in his head and he flushed brilliantly, masking it with a cackle. "A n-nude." Damn his nervous stutter. He recomposed himself, fighting to keep an act of arrogance. "All in purple."

"A nude shot? I don't think I would look very good in purple." Antonio tried getting the paint from his hands. Tomate was pawing at the canvas, getting purple claw marks on it.

"Who said it was going to be of you?" Lovino said and stuck out his tongue, nudging the tiny cat away with his foot.

Antonio lifted a brow chuckled. "Well, who else would it be of?" He moved closer to Lovino, putting his arms around the Italian's shoulders. "After all, I know how much you love to see me nude, and if you had a painting you could see me whenever you wanted."

Lovino turned his head away stubbornly. "That's a little fuckin' presumptuous of you to think that I don't have any willing models, though, don't you think? Besides, I can see your dark-ass body whenever I want. 's nothing special compared to..." He looked down, eying Antonio's body critically for a moment, and picking the name of a beefy former model at random. "Julio's."

That made Antonio frown. He pulled Lovino forward, taking his mouth possessively, and pulled away after biting his lip. "You're not allowed to see anyone naked but me."

"N-not allowed?" Lovino sputtered breathlessly, his face darkening a heavy shade of red. "I-I'm a full grown man! I'm allowed to see wh-whoever I want!" And if it would prompt more kisses like that, he'd make it as clear as possible.

Antonio glared at him, the obvious Spain part showing through. "Not while we're dating. You see another man naked, I'll punch him in the face and tie you to our bed for a week." Then he seemed to brighten up a bit, regaining control. "Within reason of course. Obviously your brother wouldn't count, or if a fat old guy flashed you. Well in that case I would still beat him up, but I wouldn't tie you to a bed. Unless you would like that."

Lovino stared at him, wide eyed and slack-jawed. The clear cut words and the firm grip around his body made him feel possessed and passionately desired. He shivered and pushed Antonio away. "W-whatever, fine, I won't call anyone, geez..." He kicked Oregano away from the canvas and picked him up around the middle, snagging Tomate up by the scruff of his neck and tossing them both out of the studio.

"So you want to paint me?" Antonio asked, and started undoing his fly so he would be nude. "You don't really have many skin colours. Do you have any more?" He slipped out of his pants and boxers, already started to harden from the kiss and the hot, possessive blood coursing through him.

Flushed and nervous, Lovino didn't have the heart to tell him it had been more of a teasing joke. He grunted in reply and settled on his hands and knees, pulling a pencil from behind his ear. "Hmph. You have to pick a pose and hold still. And I don't want to hear any bitching and moaning about you being stiff, dammit."

"But I thought being stiff would be a good thing." Antonio grabbed a chair and lounged across it, legs casually open, like it was just a random Wednesday and he was watching TV. And the pose was comfortable enough that he could stay like that for a long time. "Is this alright?"

Lovino stared at him for a long moment. His throat went a bit dry and he did his best not to wonder out loud how he could have possibly landed such a perfect sculpture of a man into his life. Shaking his head, the Italian set about to sketching Antonio's outline. "It'll have to do," he answered gruffly.

Antonio rolled his eyes at that and laughed. "Well, when you get to the important bits, let me know and I'll make it stand up for you." Because it would just be torture to be hard for this whole time.

Lovino scoffed. "Why would I want to paint you hard, crazy motherfucker? Shut up and hold still." He glanced up at Antonio and then back down at the canvas, sketching something out quickly and repeating the process until a rough sketch of his lover had been thrown onto the page. Tossing the pencil aside, he re-situated himself into a more comfortable position and dipped a thick brush lightly in a large glass of water before sliding a dollop of orange into yellow and a smidgen of deep, rich brown and traced Antonio's lines and curves of lead on white. His tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth in concentration and he frowned lightly. Normally after the initial sketch he would let the model off and paint from memory, but he wanted to get the exact contours and shadow of Antonio's body just as it was.

After twenty minutes, Antonio was regretting his decision to do this. It was so boring! "How much longer? Can I see it? Hey, you should get a tattoo. It would look great, like maybe on your hip bone. Like a big juicy tomato... Getting the paint off the cats will be really hard. I'm glad we're getting Tomate de-clawed; he'll be so much easier to deal with. Can I see it?"

Lovino wasn't fooled. He snorted, smirking lightly. "I knew your attention span wasn't cut out for this. See, this is why models are professionals. Some people just have the patience others don't." He glared when Antonio started to shift. "If you move, I'm going to give you a vagina."

"Shut up, you're not going to paint something that you're not attracted to. You probably don't even know what a vagina looks like." Did he have to be completely still? If Lovino was painting a different part of his body, couldn't he move other parts? "Besides, I think I should masturbate, because won't it look amazing if I have some cum on my stomach?"

Lovino tried not to shiver at the thought. "Damn, you're such a fruit. If you want to jack off, go do it in the bathroom. I'll just finish by myself."

"Come on, you want to see me masturbate. I know that I would love to see you masturbate." Antonio changed position a bit, and brought his hand to his cock, giving a few slow, lazy tugs.

He watched that enormous hand stroke the dark, slowly hardening cock for a long moment before he swallowed and tore his eyes away, busying himself with the painting. "D-dammit, Antonio! I'll make it four inches long if you don't knock it off!"

"I am knocking off." The Spaniard laughed, but did end up stilling his hand. After all, he was much bigger than four inches and he deserved the credit. Instead he entertained himself with watching Lovino's face as he painted, that cute pink tongue sticking out at times in deep concentration.

The Italian filled in the color of Antonio's skin from the top and as the tanned face finished drying, he began mixing colors for Antonio's eyes. At first there was too much yellow, and then too much brown, and then too much green. He growled and glared up at the bemused Spaniard on the couch. "Get the fuck down here. I need to see your eyes."

He did as asked, still chuckling. "What's wrong? They're just green." He knelt down in front of Lovino so he could see his eyes better. Not that it was too difficult- he had seen Lovino paint people's eyes before and he never had a problem.

Glaring into the green for a long moment he glanced down at his paints, looking back, and added a tiny bit of blue, a bright swirl of yellow. He leaned closer to Antonio for a moment before making a noise of satisfaction and leaning back over the painting, filling in the lazy almond shape of his eyes.

Before going back to the chair, Antonio gave him a quick kiss. "How about a break? Your hand must be tired of holding something so small for so long." He lifted his eyebrow provocatively, reaching for Lovino's hips.

Heaving an unmanly cry, Lovino toppled over on top of him, hissing. "Fuuuck, my leg's asleep, fuck fuckin' shit owww!" He grasped at the painfully tingling limb and bit his lip, his weight heavy against Antonio. He whimpered and rolled his head onto the Spaniard's shoulder. "I fucking -agh! Fucking hate it when this happens!"

"I rather like it when this happens," Antonio said, gripping Lovino's ass. Yes, being under his writhing lover was pretty nice, all things considered.

With a keen, Lovino attempted to compose himself and glared hopelessly at Antonio. "Don't -ah, fuck!- don't take advantage of the situation, asshole! I'm in pain here!"

Antonio laughed, and snuck his hand into the back of Lovino's pants. "But aren't I helping by getting blood to flow?" Well, at least it was flowing somewhere. He lifted up his foot and rubbed the Italian's leg, trying to get it back to life.

The Italian whimpered at that, his leg twitching of its own accord. He allowed himself to lean back against Antonio as he massaged his calf, wincing through the intense discomfort. "Th-thanks," he grumbled. As the tiny pinpricks began to fade, he realized that he had another problem; namely, the hand down the back of his pants. "Dammit, Antonio..."

"What's wrong? Don't you like it?" he squeezed again, pulling his cheeks apart. Well, this would be as good a time as any to bring up the topic. "Unless you don't want to, of course."

Wriggling and squirming in Antonio's hands, Lovino gnawed mercilessly on his bottom lip. "Why w... wouldn't I want to?" he asked quietly with a frown and a deep, dark blush.

Antonio slid his other hand in his shirt, tugging it up, and moved his first hand to the front of Lovino's pants, running a finger along his manhood. "I don't know. It's just we haven't had sex yet, so I was wondering."

Lovino lifted his arms so the shirt could come off and shook his head to get the mussed bangs out of his eyes. "We... we've done... stuff, lots of stuff." His hips lifted to accommodate Antonio's touches.

"Yeah, but not intercourse. We haven't had sex since before Spain." He lifted Lovino's shirt all the way off and turned him around to face him before he started undoing his fly.

"Oh." Swallowing thickly, Lovino glanced down at Antonio's naked form and then back up at into his eyes, pausing for a moment to regard his lips as he felt a hand pull the slowly hardening member from his underwear. "Is that... bad?"

The Spaniard ran his thumb over the head of Lovino's cock almost thoughtfully. "It's bad if the reason is that you feel uncomfortable around me still. And hell, it's bad for my libido too. I was used to getting sex at least four times a week end then nothing for over half a year!"

"And whose fault is that?" he grumbled back with a little groan and a twist. "Mmmh... okay, fine, dammit. I was just kinda a little bit n-nervous, but that was only at first. I didn't know if you were just... just someone new and fuckin' scary who had taken over Spain... oh." He lifted his hips and pulled Antonio to him, burying his face in the crook of the Spaniard's neck and biting the warm, taut skin there.

"So are you alright with it now? Or should I go put this lube back in our room?" He grinned, detaching himself from Lovino and crawling to his pants to pull a small bottle of lube out of his pocket that he had been carrying around for a week.

"In here?" Lovino said incredulously. He gestured around the studio, toward the half-open window and the paints everywhere and a nearly-dry rough draft portrait of Antonio nude. "But that's... that's just fuckin'..." An admittedly arousing thought. He just shook his head and slipped his hands down around Antonio's naked cock when he crawled back. "Well, we've done it in weirder places, right?"

Antonio hummed in satisfaction, popping the lid of the bottle open. "Yeah, much weirder. But at least the cats are out of the room." Not that it would really change much- it would just be kind of awkward to have Tomate (the attention slut) pawing at his arm as he was doing naughty things with his lover.

Lovino smirked and teased the hardened member with his fingertips. He loved that cock for its perfection, and he shivered as a jolt of arousal burst through him at the thought of finally, after so long, feeling it inside of him again. "Oregano would be jealous," he snorted, nibbling at the spot under Antonio's ear that he knew was sensitive.

"And Tomate would get mad. Take your pants off. God I just want to fuck you so bad..." Antonio breathed out, already completely hard. It was too bad that he still had to take the time to stretch Lovino. It would be perfect if he could be stretched all the time.

Lovino pulled back to regard him in surprise for a moment before turning red and releasing Antonio's cock, laying back half across the large canvas to wriggle out of the tight jeans. "You don't have to be so pushy about it, damn."

"If I wasn't pushy we would never get anywhere. You certainly didn't seem to mind the no sex thing." He tugged on the bottom of his jeans to help, and soon Lovino was just as naked as he was. "Damn, you're so sexy... you should suck on my cock while I prepare you."

Any protest to the first statement was stuck in his throat by the second. He swallowed and scowled to regain his composure. "Yeah, I'm the hottest piece of ass you'll ever get. Might as well keep the favors coming." He sat up, wincing as a bit of wet paint that had spilled sucked his back to the canvas as he pulled away. He craned his neck over his shoulder, grumbling. "Dammit... I've got fuckin' pink all over me!"

Antonio laughed and ran his fingers through the blue paint, and smeared it across his back as well. "Now you're all colours. You look like a painting." He leaned closer, licking a trail of skin that didn't have any paint on it.

Lovino dipped his head to the side, curling Antonio's hair into his fist and pulling gently, closing his eyes. "Fuck, 'Tonio," he mumbled, feeling around for the Spaniard's hand. He took the bottle of lube and spread his legs, squirting a bit into his own palm and slicking his own fingers before cocking his hips and sliding a finger inside of himself.

Realizing quickly what Lovino was doing, the Spaniard sat up so he could watch. "Yeah, open yourself up for me, just like that. How tight are you after all this time? Or did you finger yourself before, thinking of me?"

Lovino's body reacted to the words and he shook his head, his foot accidentally knocking into a little bowl of yellow. The color spread along the plastic sheet and Lovino's toes slid through on their way to Antonio, streaking the Spaniard's calves with sunshine. "No, I... fuuuck, I haven't... I couldn't..." He tried to wiggle another finger in, meeting resistance. He huffed and laid back, lifting his hips and curling his toes and forcing his own finger inside.

"So you only do this with me? What, your Catholic values coming back in strange ways all of the sudden?" He had always found it cute that Lovino had been raised Catholic- now he just found it hot. Little Catholic school boy, always being good. Maybe being an alter boy. Fuck, he had to stop thinking about this or he would be too far gone.

Lovino shook his head again, gasping. "No, fffuckin' dumbshit, I j-just didn't want to!" He reached for the spot the old Antonio had known like the back of his hand, but his fingertips only barely brushed. He whined and bucked and stretched but it would not be moved.

Seeing how hard he was panting, Antonio figured he was ready. He reached back, pulling Lovino's fingers out. "Get on all fours like a slut. Like a cock slut. That's what you are, isn't it? Didn't want to do it yourself because you need my cock, not just fingers." He was grinning as he got behind him, saw that puckered hole twitching.

Lovino glared and reached up, knotting his fingers in Antonio's hair and pulling him forward, ravaging his mouth in a savage kiss. He tugged on Antonio's swollen lower lip with his teeth and rolled onto his back before he dragged Antonio down with him, biting and growling, upturning forest green. It soaked into his auburn hair. "Who the fuck are you to call me a slut, you fucking son of a bitch," he hissed, grinding up against Antonio, his legs slipping up around the tanned hips and locking at the ankles.

"Well you're the one who's going to be begging for it in about a minute," Antonio growled against Lovino's neck, thrusting his cock between the Italian's ass cheeks, right over his hole. After all, it had been a long fucking time; he wasn't going to make it easy for him.

The Italian pushed him back roughly and when Antonio fell on his back, Lovino crawled over him, shaking his head in an almost dog-like fashion. Flecks of green landed all along Antonio's torso and face and when he stopped, panting and smirking, paint-damp strands of hair clung in tendrils to Lovino's neck. He swayed his hips back and forth gently against the thick member. "Probably about as much as you're gonna beg for my asshole, asshole."

Antonio growled, bucking harshly to try and get the Italian off. But Lovino wrapped his legs around him, so he had to push off from the ground and grab his shoulders. "No one rides me you fucker." He held Lovino down on the ground by his shoulders, leaned down and bit part of his skin at the base of his neck, before soothing it with his tongue.

Crying out, Lovino met the challenge with his nails, sliding them down Antonio's back. "You fucking wish I would ride you, motherfucker," he bit back, pulling Antonio's head up and catching the Spaniard's lower lip between his teeth. He was frightened and thrilled, invigorated by the challenge and the brilliant specimen between his legs.

Antonio ripped his mouth away and moved to the smaller brunet's nipple, teasing it with his teeth. Then he got an idea, and knew exactly how to make Lovino beg. One of his free hands went up, fisted his curly hair and tugged.

Lovino's mouth opened in a silent cry, his entire body throbbing. He tried to curse, shout, anything, but all that came out was a whimper. He was impossibly hard and moved against Antonio to prove it.

"Do you like that? Yeah? What do you want?" Antonio tugged harder on the hair, thoroughly enjoying the reaction he got. "Say it."

Lovino shook his head and bit his lip, green smearing over the plastic sheet. Part of him was just being true to his obstinate nature, and the other secretly thrilled at the wildness in Antonio's eyes and the command in his tone. He could resist comfortably with the Spaniard as he was now more so than he could have with just one or the other of the two that made him: this Antonio wouldn't really hurt him for his resistance, nor would he lose confidence if Lovino continued to tease and hold back. As another stroke to his curl sent a shockwave of incredible pleasure through him his hands scrambled about for purchase, upending electric blue and crimson for his efforts. He smeared his fingers over the nape of Antonio's neck and drew him closer, breathing into his ear. "Fuck no."

But he wouldn't back down. Antonio let go of the piece of hair, reached his hand down and rubbed his cock. "Beg me, bitch, you know you want to." With his other hand, he went to Lovino's hole, slipping a finger in. Just to torture him a bit more, he lightly brushed his prostate, making sure that he wasn't hitting it full on. Wouldn't want to give him too much pleasure after all.

Lovino gasped, the smirk flying from his face. His spine formed a perfect arch as he tried to impale himself further on the finger, the teasing touches only barely serving him more than his own fingers. "Shit, damn, Antonio!" he cried, panting and flushed.

"If you want more, you're going have to beg." Even though Antonio's cock was almost bursting, he wouldn't stop. After all this time, it would be so great to hear Lovino begging for him to fill him up to the brim.

But it was too much, and before the Italian had even recognized the rush in his own body, he came with a shout. Antonio's fingers stilled inside of him and Lovino panted, his hips jerking sporadically with the aftershock. He panted and his entire body fell limp, his head falling into a puddle of something bright, cheerful and faintly pungent. He glared up at Antonio, flushed from embarrassment. "W-what the fuck, you bastard? Who told you you could make me come early?"

"You wouldn't have if you had just begged me." Antonio took out his fingers with a soft pop and licked some of the cum off his hand. "It's been so long. I bet you'll be hard again in a few minutes. Especially if I have anything to say about it." He smirked, and moved his own erection so that it was more comfortable.

Lovino groaned and looked past the rise and fall of his own chest toward the member in Antonio's hand. He licked his lips and glanced up toward the bright green eyes of his lover. "You still gonna fuck me?"

He shrugged, ran his hand up Lovino's side. "If you beg me for it. Just because you came doesn't change what I want." The hand that was still on his cock started moving up and down, not fast enough to get him off, but just enough to keep him hard.

Lovino pouted. Would he put his pride on the line for that cock? He glanced toward it again, dark and full and aching in Antonio's hand, and he swallowed. The answer was only too clear.

He pushed himself up, half-hard cock dangling between his legs and rolled onto his knees, his palms flat on either side of Antonio's hips. The slick hole throbbed in anticipation. "Please," he muttered, nibbling at the juncture between Antonio's shoulder and neck, "please fuck me."

"Yeah, there's a good little bitch." Antonio grabbed Lovino by the hip, bringing him down and grabbing his own cock to guide him to Lovino's hole. Once he breached it, he let his head fall down in pleasure. "Fuck, I've missed this."

Lovino's breath hitched and he winced, grabbing Antonio's shoulders with paint-slick hands for support. "S-slow down," he mumbled, shifting to adjust. He remembered the sensation, and though well-prepared, his body had decided to treat the invasion as something less than comfortable. He wrapped his legs around Antonio's waist and slowly wriggled, driving the cock in just a bit deeper.

To loosen him up some more, Antonio rubbed the Italian's cock. "Relax, let me in. Fuck, this is why we shouldn't go so long without sex." He leaned back against a chair for support, because with Lovino was in his lap it was difficult sitting up.

Lovino took Antonio's face in his hands, his lips quirking when the sun-loved cheeks streaked with yellow, blue and green. "We won't have to if you don't go changing on me again," he mumbled, punctuating the remark with a kiss.

When they pulled away, Antonio moaned. "I won't change again, I think I'm pretty much stuck like this." After the reassurance, he lightly thrust up into Lovino, getting fully inside him. It was like heaven.

The smaller of the two cursed breathlessly and rested his forehead against Antonio's, the muscles in his calves tightening. "Oh, damn, Antonio, I missed this," he breathed, pushing himself up and falling back down to be filled again and again.

Antonio took his mouth again, exploring it even though he knew it like the back of his hand. But this was too fucking slow. He pushed Lovino down, pressing his back into the plastic and paint, and followed him so he was kneeling. "Oh fuck, you feel so fucking good."

Lovino licked his lips and pulled him down for another kiss, shifting so that Antonio was positioned differently inside of him. He pulled back to reposition his arms and could not hold back a smile at the sight of the paint all along his lover's body. How had he survived without this? "C'mon, fuck me, you damn bastard," he urged, his nose bumping Antonio's as he kissed him again.

He pulled the Italian's legs up and used them as leverage so he could thrust in and out faster, the sweat on his forehead mixing with the paint and dripping down his face. Antonio closed his eyes so that it wouldn't go in them. "Yeah? You like that? You like my dick in your ass?"

Little noises jumped from Lovino's lips at every thrust, his erection hard and aching once more. He could barely articulate a thought, and just before he could answer, the glorious cock inside of him found his neglected prostate, and any words were lost in Lovino's wordless cry.

Antonio could tell that because of all the foreplay, neither of them were going to last long. Because of that, he sucked on the skin behind Lovino's ear, a spot where he knew he loved, and twirled his finger around his curly hair.

Fairly certain that Antonio's name was falling from his lips in a steady chant, Lovino tried to keep up with the Spaniard's pace. He was faintly aware of the sound of Antonio's breath right by his ear and he whimpered, tightening around him. His memory offered in that moment the very first time he had ever let Antonio inside and, just as he had then, he held Antonio close and tried not to cry. "I fucking adore you, bastard..!"

"Fuck, I love you," Antonio moaned as he came, deep inside his lover's body. He kept thrusting through his orgasm, before pulling out, some cum dripping out of Lovino's hole.

Lovino groaned and fell lax against the floor, nibbling at a bit of Antonio's shoulder that was free of paint and palming his own erection. "Love you, fucker, I love you," he murmured shyly.

Antonio grinned and looked over to him. "Here, let me." He reached over, wrapping his hand around Lovino's cock. "Coming two times within fifteen minutes. What a sexy slut you are."

Lovino shuddered and buried his face into Antonio's neck, panting against his collar bone. He was close, so close, but there was something missing... He blushed down to his chest and trembled, mumbling into Antonio's chest. "F-fingers..."

He chuckled, and sucked on his fingers. Once they were nice and slick, he rubbed them over Lovino's puckered entrance and pushed one finger in, feeling his own semen inside. Almost as soon as he brushed his prostate, the Italian came with a strangled cry, face buried in Antonio's shoulder. Lovino shuddered through his orgasm, his toes curled in pink and orange, mouth open in a cry against Antonio's neck. He panted, falling lax in the Spaniard's arms, exhausted. "Damn, Antonio," he breathed.

"I'm glad we did this again." The Spaniard murmured into his hair, but crinkled his nose when he got a smear of paint across his cheek. "Fuck, we need a shower."

Lovino whined deep in his throat. "But I'm tired as fuuuck. Can't we just... siesta?" He draped his arms over Antonio, pulling back just to meet his eyes. "I'm willing to resort to begging."

With a snort, Antonio got to his feet and snatched the Italian up in his arms, carrying the naked and colorful man to the nearest bathroom.

Antonio turned the car off and let out a loud groan. "I don't want to do this. Why do I have to do this? I came here when I was two personalities! Now I'm only one, I shouldn't be here." He looked to the passenger seat to Lovino, whose fucking brilliant idea this all was.

Rolling his eyes Lovino stepped out of the car. "Good Lord, why'd you have to come out being such a whiny fuck?" He walked up to the white building, glancing back to make sure Antonio was following. "You might as well say goodbye to everyone. This was a big part of your life."

"But that's over. Everyone in there knows almost everything about Antonio and Spain, but they don't know me!" This was worse than going to that last meeting with Ludwig. Everyone in there had the same problem that he had just rid himself of.

Lovino nodded at the receptionist and signed the taller in. "Then it's about damn time to introduce yourself, isn't it?" Walking down the staircase, he glanced back at the trudging Spaniard and huffed, grabbing his hand. "Just to say goodbye. You don't have to tell anyone anything. It's important, okay?"

They had been having this same conversation for the last week, ever since Lovino found the calendar with the meeting dates on it. And now they were here. The only good thing he could see from this was that he would see Gilbert again. It was strange, thinking of him as Ludwig's brother.

Walking in, Lovino was reminded of the first and only other time he had come. The one that had started so well and ended so terribly. He squeezed Antonio's hand absentmindedly. "At least you don't have to worry about fighting the Captain."

"Although that was pretty fun. We never seriously hurt anyone." They got to the room, and he could hear voices on the other side. Well, it was now or never. He opened it, and was greeted with the broad back of Ivan.

Lovino made a strangled noise at the back of his throat as the hulking giant began to turn and made to hide behind Antonio when a jovial shout erupted nearby. He found himself tugged into the enthusiastic embrace of a rather tall, muscular body. "Dude, you missed the last two meetings! We were getting worried about you!"

"Fuckin'... can't... breathe, Alfred.."

Antonio patted the enthusiastic blond on the shoulder. "Sorry, that was my fault. And ah, this will be the last one we come to." He laughed as Alfred made a pouting face, but then saw Arthur in the corner. "I'll be right back, there is something I have to do." He walked over to the Brit, and held out his hand. "I would like to apologize for any inconvenience I have caused you or the Captain."

Arthur coughed and hurriedly tried to swallow the scone in his mouth. He cleared his throat and grabbed a napkin, replying a little hoarsely, "Ah, well, yes , that's... oh." He received Antonio's hand a little awkwardly. "That's quite alright. After all, I'm half to blame."

"Not you. But I am mostly to blame." He grinned and looked over to Alfred and Lovino. "This is going to be my last time here. I'm moving on, so I probably won't see you again." Not that that was a bad thing. They had never really been friends, never wanting to get close in case one of their personalities got out.

Arthur straightened his sweater vest and regarded the pair at Antonio's side. He rolled his eyes as Alfred dragged a protesting Lovino over to the table laden with food. "Oh? That's a good thing, I suppose?"

He nodded, still smiling. "Yeah, it is."

Meanwhile, Lovino griped at Alfred as the boisterous blond insisted on piling a plate high for him. "I told you, dammit, I don't likeketchup. It's an affront to tomatoes everywhere!"

"Come on, you can't have fries without ketchup! That's what ketchup was made for! It's way better than tomatoes anyway." He continued filling the plate, and squirting ketchup all over the french fries.

Lovino winced at the atrocity. "That's causing me physical pain,you douchewad. And how could you say that? Tomatoes are the salt of the earth!" He looked around to see if Antonio was nearby to back him up on the matter. But he was busy talking to the Brit, so Alfred handed him over the plate once it was completely filled with food. "So why weren't you guys here? And why aren't you coming again? Oh! Are you guys moving somewhere? Getting married? I always wanted to get married to Arthur, but the Captain really doesn't like marriages. Always says that they aren't any good on the open sea."

Lovino choked on the strawberry in his mouth and turned bright red, looking away. "N-no, we're... there was just a big thing with Spain, and... open sea?"

"Well we have a lake by our house, that's about as close as he gets to open sea. I swear, we can never go to the beach, because the Captain always comes out and starts attacking people, saying he was marooned because he can't find his ship. I tried asking Arthur why exactly he got a pirate as a personality but he never tells me." As was per usual, Alfred didn't really shut up. "So what was wrong with Spain? He usually isn't out that long. But what do I know, I only see Antonio every few months."

Lovino shrugged and stared at his plate. "He just... came out and stayed out. He was out for almost half a year, and then... shit happened and I got Antonio back. Sort of." Lovino glanced up at the two chatting across the room. "You two seem so... together. Like this shit doesn't really phase you at all. So why do you come to these things?"

The American stuffed half a burger in his mouth. "It still helps, talking with other people like us. It's not perfect, not even a normal relationship is perfect, we just have more... interesting problems. Plus, I love seeing my bro trying to pretend like he isn't in a relationship with Gilbert." He pointed over to where the shy doctor was trying to stop Gilbert... Gilbird from beeing so noisy.

"If you say so..." He munched on a carrot and regarded the blond. Awkwardly he cleared his throat and shuffled from foot to foot. "Um... hey. Thanks for... uhm." He glared at his plate, cheeks dusted with color. "Thanks for talking to me... and shit. I... when Spain was out for all those awful months, I kinda... remembered what you said. About, you know..." He rubbed his cheek and scowled at an empty chair. "L-loving them both. I couldn't believe it, but it really fucking helped. So thanks."

Alfred thought that was a little strange, but nodded anyway. "You're welcome. I actually got the same advice from Berwald! In fewer words, of course."

Lovino glanced at Alfred out of the corner of his eye. He nearly found himself wishing that Antonio wasn't so against coming back. He really didn't mind the people here at all, despite how obnoxious and blond they might be. At the mention of the vaguely familiar name, Lovino glanced around. His eyes landed on the towering form of the glowering man some distance away standing with the short, pretty man and... "Is that a- oh yeah, they were planning to adopt. Fucking amazing." He was reminded of a conversation he'd shared with Antonio months and months ago about adopting. He turned a little warm, wondering idly if the new Antonio would maybe still want to.

It was then that Antonio finished his conversation with Arthur, and went over to Lovino, wrapping his arm around him. "What are you talking about? Not me I hope."

Lovino scowled at him and huffed. "Narcissistic bastard. Everything's gottta be about you, doesn't it?"

"I believe that's how Alfred feels," Arthur said cooly, coming to stand right beside Alfred. He held his hand out to Lovino. "Terribly sorry about the last time we... well, we didn't properly meet, did we?"

Lovino took his hand, the business-minded polite side of him taking over. "It's fine. Lovino Vargas."

"Arthur Kirkland. A pleasure."

"Likewise." Lovino allowed himself to lean closer to Antonio as Alfred and Arthur engaged in conversation with each other and the Spaniard, occasionally looking to Lovino with respective looks of exasperation and eagerness. The way they were reminded him of Antonio and himself in a fashion that was almost uncanny. He looked up at his lover, wondering if maybe he was thinking the same.

When Antonio looked down and met his eyes with an olive-green brightness and a warm smile, he had to tear his eyes away to stifle his incredible, overwhelming urge to kiss him. Alfred had been right; it would have been nearly impossible to maintain a healthy relationship with Antonio if he couldn't love all sides of him. Falling for both sides had been more than worth it. He rested his cheek on Antonio's shoulder, smirking softly at the squabbling couple just feet away.

What the two broken halves had found in him had given him meaning, and what he had discovered in the whole was something he wouldn't change for the world.

Now, if only he could convince Antonio to enjoy cooking again...