The speakers on their bookshelf emitted soft music, a chorus of voices singing "Silent Night." A fire was burning, and there were candles set out because the actual lights had been turned off in a successful attempt to romanticize the evening. There was food in the oven—a turkey, potatoes, pasta on the stove—and the entire house smelled like a feast. Not to mention the Christmas tree set up in front of the windows, decorated with bulbs and lights and with brightly wrapped presents sitting underneath.

Dressed in a red and green sweater decorated with reindeer and a pair of dark blue jeans, Lovino Vargas walked into the living room and froze the moment he saw the gifts. A red tinge came into his lightly tanned cheeks and quickly overtook his face.

"Antonio!" he shouted, his anger easily entering his voice as he whirled around and stormed out of the living room, having completely forgotten why he'd gone there in the first place.

"Sí, mi pequeño tomate dulce?" came the response, sang in happy tones as if Antonio hadn't picked up on Lovino's anger. The Italian followed the voice and found his Spanish lover in their bedroom upstairs, running a comb through his hair and only partially dressed after a shower.

"What the fuck are all those presents doing under the tree?" he demanded, stopping just inside the doorway and pointing back the way he'd come.

Green eyes looked at him from the mirror's reflection. "¿Qué? What do you mean, Lovi?"

"I mean that I didn't put all those there and I told you not to get me anything for Christmas!"

"But, Lovi, why wouldn't I get you any presents?" Finished combing his hair, Spain turned around and loosely crossed his arms over his chest, pouting slightly. "I would feel bad if you didn't get to open presents with me in the morning. Christmas should be fun for both of us."

Romano's face was starting to turn red. Why couldn't this idiot just understand? "I'm not opening them. I don't want them." He turned on his heel to leave before he could see the Spaniard's crestfallen look and left the room, only to have Antonio run after him and catch him around the waist. Tan arms pulled him back against the other male and lifted him off his feet as the tanned brunet hugged him.

"H-hey! Let go, bastardo!" he shouted, struggling against him, feet kicking as they tried to reach the ground.

"Not until you promise to open the presents I got for you!" Spain sang, as happy as ever.

Lovino wished he could say it was annoying. He wanted to tell Antonio to shut up before he went deaf, but if there was one thing about the Spaniard he would never dare insult, it was his voice. Spain's voice was beautiful and it never failed to calm him down, make him smile. Especially when the older nation was acting like an idiot, like now.

"Come on, Roma~"

Ugh.

Sulking, Lovino gave a curt nod. "Fine. I'll open the damn presents."

"In the morning with me, si?"

"Si, si, now put me down, tomato bastard. You're rumpling my clothes."

"I know," the Spaniard purred, his face nuzzling into the back of Lovino's neck.

"Chigi!" Romano bent forward then slammed back, knocking hard against Spain's forehead. The older nation dropped him immediately, both hands flying to his injury as tears filled his green eyes. Meanwhile, Lovi easily landed on his feet and began walking away with a huff. "That's what you get, bastard."

"Awwww Roma, why would you be so cruel? And on Christmas Eve?"

"You rumpled my sweater."

x

Two pairs of bleary eyes watched the fire burn. The music still played and the tree with its presents was pristine. But it was late now, almost midnight. Empty plates and wine glasses sat on the coffee table, all that remained of the nations' Christmas dinner.

Cuddled together under a thick blanket with full bellies, Antonio and Lovino sat in silence. It was rare that they did this sort of thing, since a certain Italian wasn't usually in the mood for "cutesy couple-y shit." But on Christmas Eve he was content to eat as much as he could then curl up with Spain and try to stay up late enough to see Finland stop by as Santa Claus.

They had yet to succeed. Even now, Lovino could feel his eyelids beginning to droop.

"Tonio," he murmured, chin dropping towards his collarbone.

"Mm…" The Spaniard shifted just slightly and pulled the younger male closer to himself.

"Tired."

"Then sleep. I'm not going anywhere."

It was the sort of thing Lovino loved to hear but always rolled his eyes at. Now, his only reaction was to hum and snuggle a little farther into Spain's side, the blanket pulled close around his narrow frame as sleep claimed him.

X

"Roma! Roma!"

Hands shaking him forced Lovino out of the dream he'd been having—his brother had been lounging in a bowl of pasta kept asking to borrow some tomatoes for his sauce—and into the waking world. The moment he was awake he was scowling, pulling the blanket over his head and shoving away the brown-haired bastard who'd woken him.

"It's too fucking early, Spain."

"But Lovi! It's Christmas! Finland came!"

God, he didn't care if Finland left them a fucking bull to keep as a pet! It was too god damn early to be awake!

"No." Twisting, the Italian shoved his face into the couch and proceeded to cram as much of his body into the space between couch back and cushions as he could. It was warm and plush and comfortable and within moments he was on the verge of being asleep once more.

Music suddenly blasted through the room and Lovino muttered a curse at his Spanish lover. No doubt this was Antonio's next tactic for getting him up—deafen him with Christmas music.

Fucking idiot.

But no matter how deep between the cushions he shoved his head and no matter how hard he concentrated to block out the noise, it was too late. No way was he going to fall back asleep with that shit drilling into his eardrums. So he heaved a shy and pushed himself into a sitting position, not caring that his clothes were completely disheveled and that his hair was a disaster. No one looked good first thing Christmas morning.

"Fine! I'm up! Fuck!" he shouted over the music, and Spain cheered before turning the stereo down to a more tolerable level. The noise that had been threatening to give him a migraine became a pleasant murmur in the background.

"Feliz Navidad, Romano!"

I hate this holiday.

Antonio was already sorting the presents into three groups.

"Come on, Lovi!" The older nation was practically bouncing in place, sitting on the floor between two of the piles; he'd made a spot for Lovino as well. "It's time to open los regalos!"

"Yeah, yeah." Keeping the blanket wrapped around his shoulders, Lovino moved from the couch to the floor and settled in the spot Antonio had made for him.

Spain pointed to a pile, the one on Lovino's left. "Those are from Finland. These," the pile on the Spaniard's left, "are my gifts to you, and the last one is your gifts to me."

Lovino's gaze went to the last bunch. His gifts to the other nation were smaller than the others, and the wrapping job was downright shitty. Just looking at them made him feel embarrassed and uncomfortable. They wouldn't be good enough for the brunet sitting a foot away. He shouldn't even have tried to get Antonio anything. He wouldn't like them. They were trash.

"Here you go, mi amante."

It was almost painful how happy Antonio looked as he held out the first present. He'd probably found the perfect gifts for his moody lover and then Lovino's were going to look even worse by comparison.

"Grazie," he muttered, accepting the brightly wrapped box and handing Spain one in return. The sound of tearing paper filled the room as the two opened their presents, Antonio much more eager than Lovino was.

Oh, wow…

They were candle holders, silver, bright and polished. Old, judging by the design, but beautiful. Some master craftsman had spent hours and hours on these, and Spain was giving them to him for Christmas—they'd probably been locked away somewhere for years, collecting dust, to keep them from getting damaged. Romano had a terrible record for breaking things. Why was Spain giving him something so valuable?

"I…grazie," the younger nation murmured, letting his fingers brush against the cold silver. For the moment, he forgot to be moody and angry that the other had given him anything, though to be fair, his exact words had been "don't get me anything for Christmas." If these candle holders were as old as they looked, Spain hadn't gotten them anywhere but out of storage. It was a dumb loophole but suddenly Lovino didn't feel like arguing. Not while he was holding something so beautiful.

But there hadn't been any sort of reaction from Antonio yet and that worried him. Was his present really that terrible, the older nation had been left speechless? He was too afraid to look at his expression, too convinced it would be angry or disdainful or disgusted.

Just look. Do it. It can't be that bad.

His neck should have been creaking with how difficult it was just to lift his head.

"What the hell?" He couldn't believe it—the bastard hadn't even opened his gift yet!

"I wanted to see your reaction," the older brunet explained upon seeing his companion's bewildered look. "Do you like them?"

It took a moment for Lovino to be able to nod. "Si…"

Smile growing, Antonio gave a happy nod and finished tearing the paper off his box, then pulled off the tape. A rectangular mass of tissue paper slid out to land in his lap, and he set the box aside in order to carefully pull the tissue away. It was a book, about an inch thick and bound in leather with a strap holding it closed, a simple yet elegant silver clasp on the front. Almost reverently, Spain ran his fingertips over the cover and couldn't help but be amazed at how soft it was. He was careful when he opened the clasp, careful as he lifted the cover. On the first page, his full name was written in beautiful calligraphy—the rest of the pages were blank. They were crisp and clean, neatly lined and ready to be filled with whatever thoughts he desired to put down.

"Muchas gracias, Roma," he murmured, green eyes locked on the journal. "Es hermoso."

He didn't speak Spanish but Lovino still knew what the other nation had said, and it made his cheeks grow warm. It was just a journal—he didn't know why Antonio was staring at it like it was some sort of masterpiece.

"Here," he said gruffly, thrusting the next present into the Spaniard's hands, though he didn't miss the way Antonio protected the journal, cradling it to his chest and then ever so carefully setting it aside to hand Lovino a box as well.

The Italian was much more careful opening this present than he'd been with the first. If Spain was giving him things like those candle holders then he didn't want to break anything on accident. But he needed have worried—this gift was a rather large bottle of some type of lotion. There was a sun on the front, though it wasn't tanning lotion and it only took a quick skim over the instructions for the smaller brunet to understand.

"You got me massage oil?" That warms up the longer you rub? What the hell?

Antonio chuckled. "You like having your back rubbed, si? This will make it even better."

Oh. Well, yeah, okay. It made sense when the tomato bastard said it like that. Come to think of it, sleeping on the couch had made his spine a little stiff. "…can we try it later?" he asked almost timidly and was rewarded with a wide smile.

"Of course!" And then he was focused on opening his second present, tearing through the paper in what closely resembled a frenzy to see what else his precious Roma had gotten him for Christmas. This box was much smaller than the first but he let out a pleased sound when he finally saw what was inside. "They're perfect!"

Romano's face turned red and he looked away. "Shut up, bastard. They're just cufflinks." But he was pleased by his lover's reaction. He'd spent hours looking for the right set, something noticeable but not gaudy that would go with the Spaniard's sense of style when it came to his suits. They were simple emeralds, not embellished or decorated, but the older nation obviously liked them.

"Look, Lovi! They match!" Antonio was grinning, holding the cufflinks up next to his face to show that the stones were almost the exact color of his eyes.

He'd done that on purpose but he had no intentions of admitting that—no way would Lovino ever admit that he'd been so sappy about choosing a gift.

Setting the cufflinks aside as carefully as he'd done the journal, Spain picked up his last gift for the Italian sitting across from him and held it out. "Aquí tiene!"

The box was so heavy that he almost dropped it out of surprise, but luckily he managed to keep a grip on it and settled it comfortably on his lap before passing his final present to Antonio. This time, the older nation didn't wait before opening it and within moments was tossing tissue paper in every direction. "Pajama pants! Ah! They're soft!" Grinning, he held up the pants and shook them out, rubbing his thumbs against the fabric and marveling in the silky texture. Then his grin began to fade and he looked at Romano curiously. "Is there supposed to be a top?"

If his face had been red before, it was nothing compared to the color of Lovino's cheeks now. Yes, there was a top to match the pajama pants in Antonio's hands, but he hadn't put it in the box. His embarrassment made him look away. "Uh…si…"

"Lovi? Is something wrong?" There was concern in the Spaniard's tone now and he set the pants down so he could focus more on the younger nation.

"Nessun," he muttered, then swallowed thickly as he summoned up his courage. "I have the top."

Green eyes blinked at him for a few moments before Antonio smiled. "So we will match, si?"

"S-si…"

Ugh this was stupid. He should have just given the bastard the whole set. What was he trying to do, be romantic? As if Lovino Vargas could ever be romantic. At best he was less insulting than usual.

To his surprise, a pair of hands took hold of his upper arms and effortlessly pulled him across the small space until he was all but sitting in Spain's lap and the older brunet was hugging him tightly.

"What are you doing, idiot?" the Italian demanded, his face pressed into Antonio's shoulder. It was unpleasant but he'd been surprised by the action and he wasn't exactly fond of surprises.

"Hugging you. What does it look like?" As playful as the words were, Spain's voice was thick with some emotion that Lovino didn't understand and didn't want to try to figure out.

"I'm not stupid! Bastard," he muttered the last word with no bite to it, trying to shift closer to the older brunet without him noticing. It didn't work, and the next moment Antonio had shifted his grip on the smaller male to move Lovino entirely into his lap so he could cradle the Italian against his chest.

"Gracias,Lovi," he murmured, face buried in the younger nation's brown hair. "Que significa mucho para mí."

"I don't know what you're saying," Lovino reminded his lover, and Spain let out a quiet chuckle.

"Just saying thank you." He didn't let go of the smaller male even though Lovino still had to open his last present, and Finland's gifts to them were waiting as well. If he had his way, he'd never let go of his Roma, especially not after receiving such a gift. The pajama pants themselves weren't what made him so emotional— though they were nice, and he would definitely use them—it was the fact that Lovino had kept the top to wear. The fact that, despite acting angry all the time and insulting Antonio and denying that he loved him, the surly Italian had purposefully bought pajamas for them to wear together…it was the clearest "I love you" he'd ever gotten from the smaller nation without having to coax it out of him.

Lovino let this quiet cuddling go on for a few more minutes before he gently poked Antonio in the ribs. "I still have to open your last present, idiot." He was still holding onto it, the box trapped between their bodies because he hadn't dropped it when the larger male initially pulled him closer.

Silent, Antonio shifted his lover once more so that Lovino's back was to his chest, the little brunet still seated in his lap. "Open it."

Rolling his eyes at the sentimental turn this had taken, Romano tore open the wrapping paper and inspected the contents of the box. "Scented candles?"

"Si, for the candleholders." Antonio's chin rested on his lover's shoulder.

He hadn't expected candles but he supposed it made sense, and he couldn't help but smile a little as he realized the scents Spain had chosen: "Spanish Garden," "Mediterranean Breeze" and "Italian Mandarin." They would be the perfect scents to enjoy during a bath.

This bastard knows me too well.

"Grazie, Spagna," he murmured, holding the box to his chest as he leaned back against the larger male comfortably.

"De nada. Shall we open the gifts from Finland?"

Romano answered with a nod and set the candles aside so he could move the three new presents closer. "One for you," he handed the box over his shoulder, "one for me," that one was set in his lap, "and one for both of us." The last gift was left on the floor so they could open it together.

The sound of paper being ripped drowned out the music still playing in the background as they opened their respective gifts.

"Gardening gloves! Perfecto! I needed a new pair!" Spain wasted no time in pulling them on over his hands and testing the feel as he moved his fingers.

Lovino was looking into his box with an unreadable expression, face slowly turning redder and redder. His grip was tightening on the box, bending it under his fingertips.

What the fuck kind of Christmas present is this? Finland…how did he…? Why…?

It was almost impossible to imagine that sweet little blond packing something like this, wrapping it up like a Christmas present and leaving it under their tree. No way was he letting Spain see this. Ever. The man would never give him any peace if he did and while there was a part of him that almost enjoyed that thought there wasn't a chance in hell Romano would ever actually listen to that part.

"Roma."

He jumped to hear his own name and quickly closed the box before curious green eyes could peer inside and see what his gift was. "What?"

"Let me see what Finland gave you."

"Uh…it…it's just…socks…"

"Socks?"

"Si…extra thick so my feet don't get cold in winter…"

Spain chuckled and nuzzled his cheek against the smaller male's shoulder. "You're a terrible liar, Lovi."

"Fuck you," was the only response he could think of before the box was snatched out of his hands and then opened by the man who's lap he was sitting in. "Bastard! Give it back!"

"This doesn't look like socks, Lovi."

That settled it. His face had never been redder than this in his entire life. His cheeks were burning, as was his neck—his entire body felt much too warm and his heart was starting to pound in his narrow chest because he knew what came next, knew that his lover would make a comment and that in turn would make him blush even more.

"All right, last one!"

What?

Incredulous, Romano watched as the larger male reached past him and picked up the final unopened gift. It was labeled to the both of them from Santa Claus and Spain set it on Lovino's lap in a clear indication that he was to be the one to open it. He wasn't entirely sure that was a good idea, not after what Finland had given him for his gift. Spain's had been innocent enough but anything could be in that box.

A gentle nudge to his shoulder made him glance back at the older nation. "Are you going to open it?" Antonio asked, arms once more wrapped comfortably around the Italian's middle.

I don't want to. It might be something dirty.

But he couldn't say that because then the tomato bastard would tease him about being shy or some shit and he really wasn't in the mood for that right now. So he remained silent and slowly began opening the present. His fingers carefully pulled at the paper, breaking the tape free and sliding the box away from the mess. There was red and green tissue paper inside, hiding whatever the actual gift was, and Lovino felt his nerves building as he began taking it out. Antonio's chin was resting on his shoulder again so he could see and Lovino knew what the man's reaction was when he took Finland's gift to them out of the box.

"Well."

Shit. Shit. Fuck. Shit.

It had been comfortable to sit in the Spaniard's lap for the last several minutes. Antonio was warm and there was no denying that Lovino enjoyed being held by the older nation. But he could feel heartbeat against his back starting to speed up and there was something pressing against his ass that hadn't been there a few minutes ago that made him want to shift around uncomfortably—the only reason he didn't was because he knew what would happen if he did anything to create friction.

"Roma," the name was purred as a cheek nuzzled his own.

"Don't even say it," the younger nation snapped, shoving the older away. He knew where this was headed and didn't want any part of it. Spain let out a whine and pulled him closer, purposefully rubbing in a very specific way.

"But, Lovi, it's Christmas."

"I fucking know that, bastard! So let me have a good Christmas by not pestering me for sex!" He didn't have to look to know the green-eyed man was pouting.

"I don't want sex. I want to make love—and put Finland's gifts to good use, of course."

Finland, I'm going to fucking murder your sled-riding ass.