A/N: Heyyy~ anyone remember me? :D

Didn't think so. (;

Anyway, moving on, first Hetalia and M-rated fic… like I saw Russia say once, "My life is void and meaningless, kill me! :D" But now it isn't… hope you like ecchi… later though. w

READ THIS: This story will NOT only be focused on Spamano! I tend to have the Bad Touch/Friends Trio (I like touch better~) play a big part in this. Also, be prepared for USUK, GerIta, whatever comes to my interest, whatever comes to your interest (REVIEW :D), and WEIRD CRACK PAIRINGS FOR A SPLIT SECOND. :3 There is one in this chapter. Don't worry, I don't support it either – if you do, okay – but you'll recognize it's crack 'cause it says "for a split second". :3 I just really wanted to write that~ Human names used… If you don't like yaoi, get out (why did you search this?)… etc, etc.

I OWN NOTHING~ except the plot, that is mine mine mine mine mine. :3 (5 mines FTW.)

Anyway, please enjoy~~ (Most original chapter name EVER)

Subtext Chapter I: Subtext

"... So, what you're saying is that all of acting is based around subtext?"

"Yes, something like that," responded the interviewee on the show two nations were watching out of pure boredom.

"Pfft, not true," one scoffed, in a boasting manner.

"Eh? Lovino, you know something on the subject?" The other nation inquired, genuinely curious - not being the smartest nation around (at least, seemingly), the olive skinned brunet listened to every word that came out of the italian's mouth with interest.

"Well... sorta!" The named nation huffed and crossed his arms, "Italians act all the time! We're very... passionate!"

"Lovi, I know we're close, but confusing my people and yours isn't something you do often," the spaniard stated, serious.

"Wha- Hey! Don't fuck around with the country of the mafia! You trying to say something about my people, bastard?"

"Huh? No-"

"Dumbass Antonio! Dammit!" Lovino shot up from the couch, cursing. Someone's in a bad mood today, Antonio sighed internally.

"Aw, Lovi, that's not what I meant-" Antonio tried, but the door leading into his room slammed. He sighed - for real, this time - and pulled himself off of the couch. He rested his head and body against the door separating him and his ex-servant.

"Lovino," he sang, softly. When no response came, he sang louder. "Lovino, Lovino~ That's my room, Lovino~"

"Ugh, shut up, damn it, do I look like I care?" A loud voice echoed from the locked room.

"I wish I knew, Lovino~"

"Arrrgh, stop talking already!" The angry voice came again.

Antonio waited a bit. He wanted to apologize for whatever he did wrong, which he found himself doing a lot lately. He finally said, after a long pause, "Lovino-"

"What, goddammit!"

"... I have something to cheer you up..." The spaniard purred, in a smooth voice. He heard a few squeaks from inside, ensuring the italian's soon appearance.

Finally the door opened to a mean-looking, yet blushing, Lovino. "This better be good, bastard..."

"I know! Hold on a minute," Antonio nodded, a smile appearing on his face. He turned around, fiddling around with his pockets. "I know we did this before but," he started while searching his pockets thoroughly, "this time, I know it will work~!"

A deeper blush formed on the italian's face. He's going to kiss me, he thought. Either that or...

Finally, Antonio turned around, a smug smile on his face. "Should I do it? Should I?"

Oh, fuck.

"Fusososososo~ Good luck charm~!" The green-eyed pretty boy sang, revealing his true (oh so strange) self. The hands that were in his pockets came out to throw sparkles on the Italian. "It's working, right? You feel better, right Lovi-" Antonio exclaimed, only to be greeted once again by the door slamming in his face.

"F-f-f-fuckface! Why don't you go get drunk with the fake-ass imitation german and the frog?" An angry yet mournful voice came from the other side.

"Loviiino~ don't insult my friends~!" Antonio whined. No response, so he stepped away from the door, lost. After a few minutes of standing there lamely with the same broken look on his face, he took out his phone. Good idea...

"Scheisse," A heavily accented, slurred voice cursed after the crash of glass breaking. "Sorries," the German said slowly.

"S'okay," another accented and slurred voice said softly.

A blond watched from the corner of the room. "So? We are drinking today... why?" a French voice asked, not quite as intoxicated as the two others.

"Maaaaattie..." the German said slowly.

"Mathieu?" The Frenchman got up, and walked over to the seemingly albino German. "Yes, Gilbert? What have you been doing with Mathieu?"

Gilbert pulled his head up from where his head was hanging over the back of the couch, bringing their faces dangerously close. He took Francis's chin and pulled him closer, connecting their mouths for a split second, then kicking the blond away forcefully onto the wall. "... wouldn't give me any of his maple. That was your fault. But you're lucky I did that, seeing as you probably haven't gotten some in like, whenever," the German said, coming back a little bit. "Ugh, you taste weird..."

The Frenchman scoffed. "Not... what is that word you use...?"

"Awesome," the most slurred and mournful voice came from somewhere near the furniture on the other side of the room.

"Yes, that. Not 'awesome' enough for you, Gilbert?"

"Exactly so, Francis! Right, Toni? Francey isn't as awesome as me, right, Toni?" Gilbert slurred happily, turning to the table the Spaniard was sitting under.

"... Antonio?" Francis said his name again.

"Loviiino... doesn't looove me~" the Spanish man began to sing again. A short bang followed his voice. "... And I just hit my head~" And then another noise followed that made sure the two other members of the "Bad Touch Trio" knew their friend had collapsed.

A/N: … 8D

Thanks for reading~ Please R&R! :3