Hey there! I was inspired to just write a piece for Valentine's Day, but I wasn't able to finish it. However, I'm still posting the first part after splitting it in half - the story part first, and the smut part second. :)

Warning: Human AU, crack pairing, Nyotalia inclusion, implications for smut, some adult topics, Valentine's Day setting
Pairing: Nyo!Vietnam x Spain

Character Guide For Those Who Need It:
- Quan = Nyo!Vietnam
- Antonio = Spain
- Alfred = America
- Lovino = Romano
- Lars = Netherlands/Holland
- Emma = Belgium
- Francis = France
- Gilbert = Prussia

Several others are mentioned, however they're not so prominent; just name-drops and mentions. ;)

EDIT: Due to being alerted, I rewrote a little bit of the first part due to improper Spanish grammar and upon finding out that pig's blood is actually a pretty common thing to eat via the form of black pudding/blood sausage. I apologize if I've offended someone due to my ignorance and lack of acknowledgement. TT7TT

Enjoy the first part~

"So…you have any plans for tonight, Quan?"

The Vietnamese man in question paused for a minute while still heaving one side of a grand piano. He narrowed his golden eyes, "What kind of a question is that?"

His companion, a younger American guy with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes behind a clear pair of glasses grinned at him. "Duh! I mean with a fine piece of ass like that?" he moved a bit forward with the piano, prompting Quan to walk backwards. "You must have some plans or something!"

This however caused Quan to snap his head up immediately, as he glowered, "Do not address Antonio in that way. Ever. Do it, and I'm knocking this piano back into you, Alfred F Jones. You hear me?"

"Whoa, whoa, sheesh!" Alfred exclaimed as he rolled his eyes. "Loud and clear, dude! But, come on! I ain't the only one who's thinking that that ass of your boyfriend can turn any straight guy 'round-"

"Oh, really?" Quan questioned as his scowl furrowed even deeper on his serious face.

"Yeah, really!" Alfred didn't seem to catch the dark and sinister aura beginning to surround his Asian companion, which prompted him to continue. "I mean, I'm dating Natalya and I admit: that ass is just…" he gave a wolf-whistle that made Quan twitch his left eye. "And there's Francis, too! You do know there's a reason he's all touchy-feely on him, right?"

"Yes," the golden-eyed man responded sourly. "I do know." He shook his head, "Still, they are best friends, and Francis was actually the one who set us both up in the first place. I doubt that he'd try something so scandalous."

The American shrugged, "Hey man, whatever floats your boat." As they continued carrying the piano, Alfred chuckled, "Hell, even your lil' bro seems interested with him!"

Quan froze in the spot, "Lil' bro? Which one?"

Deaf to how cold and demanding the Viet's voice was, Alfred continued on cheerfully, "Well, Leon thinks your boyfriend's got a really nice body underneath the clothes, Yong Soo wants to grope him, and Mei might've mentioned wanting to touch his arms a couple of times." Giving a good-natured laugh and still ignorant to the fact that the dark aura around Quan was growing dangerously larger, the blonde continued, "And they all seem really interested in finding out what he looks like without a shirt! Then of course, everyone else joined in, and now a lot of us are wondering what he's like in just a speedo-"

"Too much information," Quan snapped, his left eye now twitching uncontrollably.

Alfred scoffed, "Come on, as if you don't think about that! You're the one he's dating after all!"

"I don't think about that at all," the Vietnamese man said sharply.

"Is it because you're still a virgin?"

"Alfred F Jones, mark my words – you will die alone in your not so distant future."

"Hey, no I won't!" protested the blonde. "I'm the hero, man! The hero always gets the girl in the end!" however after a little pause, Alfred shook his head and stated, "The hero always gets the awesome love interest in the end!"

Quan rolled his eyes at the younger man's hero talk – a very typical thing to hear about. He really needed to lay off the comics. "Whatever," he scoffed. "I honestly don't care about what you or others think or feel of Antonio and me." He added to himself in a firm thought, 'What matters most is our feelings are genuine, and we are very much aware of that.'

Still, it was Valentine's Day. When he woke up and came downstairs for some breakfast, he was greeted by a warm smile and a cheerful voice that greeted, "Buenos dias, mi amor!" as well as a smooch on the cheek. His Spanish boyfriend of four years had risen earlier than him, and had cooked a spectacular breakfast for the both of them. During breakfast, Antonio was chatting up a storm as he hugged him from behind and glanced down at the newspaper that Quan was reading. Though he was irritated with the green-eyed brunette's constant chatter the first time they met back in high school, Quan grew accustomed to it, and even found that he loved hearing the sound of the Spaniard's sweet voice.

Before he left to work, Quan was hugged tightly and another kiss planted onto his cheek before Antonio chirped, "I'll see you soon, mi querido!"

As the Vietnamese man continued to carry the piano up the stairs with his rather obnoxious American companion, he began to wonder about the bases he hadn't reached yet. It was a stupid thing that Alfred and his denser or more hormonal friends wouldn't shut up about, so sadly, Quan was forced to listen to it for a bit, and promptly felt uncomfortable by the end of it. It was something apparently called 'the bases of dating/relationships' or something among the lines of such. Truly, it was rather stupid in Quan's opinion – to sum it all up, the four bases were as followed: French, feel, finger and fuck. It seriously made the Vietnamese man disgusted when he thought about it: because he was certain that that wasn't how a relationship should even work. He was just glad that Alfred hadn't mentioned it yet.

"What base have you reached with Antonio, anyway?"

Spoke too soon…

"You still follow that bunch of crap?" Quan asked, totally unimpressed. "Never mind trust, mutual respect and commitment in a relationship, right Jones?"

Alfred rolled his eyes, "Dude, that's not what I meant! Damn, you're so uptight sometimes, I swear! I still wonder how you were even able to snagAntonio in the first place."

Quan blinked at that last part of the American's sentence, but he simply shrugged as he sighed a little, "To be honest…I don't really know how myself…"

To describe him in just one word, the word beautiful would always pop right into Quan's mind. Cheesy and unoriginal, the Viet knew, however that seriously was how he could perfectly describe someone like Antonio.

The Spaniard was shorter than him by a few centimetres or so, but he was well-toned: a body befitting that of a piece of fine art that was preserved and crafted to perfection – to be more specific, a statue from the Renaissance that would take years to construct with delicate care. His face was sculpted with a full pair of rosy lips, natural lashes, and sparkling eyes so green, that the grass around appeared plain in comparison. His shoulders were broad, and he had a slender waist with finely curved hips, as well as the outline of a perfect posterior. His legs were also slim and long with fine hairs. His skin painted by the sun's kisses, and messy waves and curls of mocha-coloured hair.

Add to that a gorgeous laugh, a melting voice, a sweet disposition, and a gentle and sincere demeanour with a touch of naïveté, and you're left with beauty personified.

Of course as a result, Quan tended to feel highly insecure at times as he still couldn't believe his luck that Antonio would find interest in him of all people. The Vietnamese man was no stick, however he was otherwise quite plain in terms of appearance – he had dark hair, sharp eyes, thin eyebrows, and large hands with spindly fingers while his legs were a bit more muscled particularly at his calves. He also wasn't the warmest person to be around. He tended to be strict and serious almost all the time, and he seldom smiled.

Yet, it was quite funny to see everyone's reactions when Antonio proudly declared that they were together.

Still, Quan couldn't help but think; he wasn't sure if the Spaniard had ever had sex before, but the thought of it made him really uncomfortable…yet, there was a touch of curiosity that dabbled in his brain at the notion. After all – he and Antonio were no longer children, and they've been together for a good amount of time now. Also, someone who craved physical affection along with the meaningful words and actions as Antonio, the Vietnamese man seemed less disturbed about the idea, and he was becoming more curious…

'No!' he snapped in his head, mentally slapping himself. 'I can't be thinking of that now of all times! I know it's Valentine's Day, but…no. Just…no…'

"You don't look so good, dude. How 'bout after we lift up this piano, we go get some burgers?"

"Any plans for the both of you tonight?"

Antonio chuckled when the Belgian woman leaned eagerly forward on the counter, her lime green eyes twinkling. The Spaniard shrugged a shoulder, "To be honest, Quan is quite busy with delivering some really heavy stuff. I don't know if we'd have enough time to go out tonight, which is a really big shame."

"So…while your pho bastard boyfriend goes out to work his ass off, your own ass is staying here at home cooking?" an Italian with a wild curl sticking out from his right asked, a bit incredulous. "What kind of bullshit is that?"

"Beats me," this time a tall Dutchman with spiky, blonde hair shrugged a shoulder as he huffed on a long, stylish pipe. "I'm still stumped on how you were able to land someone like him."

"What's that supposed to mean, Lars?" questioned Antonio, though he sounded more genuinely curious than offended by the blonde man's tone of voice. He was stirring a huge, simmering pot while having the conversation with his friends.

Lars leaned back on the stuffed couch a bit more as he blew some smoke out: the billowing white wisps spiraling slowly upwards. "Well, the guy's really hard-working for one thing," responded the Dutchman dully. "This house is his, right? You either need a job that pays a lot, or do one for a good number of years to pay off a nice one like this. He works as an artisan, carpenter, or something like that, correct?"

"Sí," Antonio nodded, now smiling fondly at some of the manually crafted glass statuettes on the table nearby. "He's very good at what he does."

"That's one point," Lars snorted. "Two; the guy's got a brain on him."

"Qué?" the Spaniard blinked and his mind drew on a blank upon hearing the spiky-headed blonde's words. However, after a little moment to think, he protested, "H-hey! Come on! That's mean!"

"Ain't our fault that you're thick as fuck," the Italian scoffed. "I'm still amazed that guy hasn't snapped at you for being such a clueless idiota at times."

"Lovi, come on!" Antonio pouted. "I know I'm not the smartest, but I'm not that dense, right?"

"You seriously want Lovino and me to answer that?"

"Aww, mi amigos, come on!"

"Anyway!" the Belgian woman raised her voice so the subject would be moved on. She cleared her throat, "What are you cooking anyway, Antonio? It doesn't look like something you typically make, but it smells really good." She sniffed the delectable aroma, and gave a dreamy sigh.

"I'm glad it does smell nice!" Antonio beamed. "It's a dish from his home country."

"Since when did you cook Vietnamese dishes?" Lars questioned as he arched an eyebrow.

"Well, I found a recipe book on the shelf," explained Antonio as he continued to stir a bit more. "It was primarily written in English, but there are a few scribbles and notes I can't read that are pretty much in Vietnamese. I thought, 'Hey, why not? It's Valentine's Day, and Quan must be working really hard, so I'll try and make him a dish from his home country!' Just a little surprise for him."

"I'm sure he's going to love it!" Emma gave a thumbs-up.

"I hope so," said Antonio hopefully. "I mean, it smells good, and the taste is nice to me, but I'm still not sure if he's going to love it."

"What's in it, anyway?"

"Well, the recipe says that the main ingredients are tomatoes, shrimp paste, crab, meat, rice vermicelli, but there are notes at the side about water spinach stems, shredded banana flower, annatto seeds and congealed pig's blood."

"Pig's blood?" Lars arched both eyebrows while Lovino wrinkled his nose. "Sounds more like you're making a bloedworst…"

"Kinda reminds me of morcilla de Burgos," Antonio remarked with a sheepish laugh. "It's interesting to know he eats this, too. I remember when Quan still tried eating rabbit meat when we went to eat paella at that restaurant one time."

"I remember you telling me that!" giggled Emma. "He said he couldn't help but be reminded of Mei's pet rabbit, Wonrei, so he felt a bit disturbed about it. He didn't mind eating the snails, though."

"I honestly can't blame him," remarked Lars solemnly. "What kind of monster eats rabbit meat?"

Lovino rolled his eyes, "Get the hell over it, pipe bastard." He narrowed his hazel eyes, "Still…there are tomatoes in it…hmm…but seriously of all recipes, you pick the one with pig's blood? You're romantic as fuck..."

"Wanna try some, Lovi?" Antonio asked as he held up a spoon with some of the red broth.

"Chigi! No, I don't! Get that away from me!" shrieked the Italian as he almost fell off from his chair. However, while Antonio and Emma were laughing lightly and even Lars gave a smirk, the doorbell's ringing chimed along in the air. "Who the fuck is that?"

"Can one of you please get it?" asked Antonio as he gestured towards his pot.

Emma nodded, "Sure thing!" she leaped off her chair and floated to the front door. Opening it wide, she beamed widely at the two men who faced across from her, "Gil, Francis! How are you two?"

"Ahh, bonjour, mademoiselle Emma!" Francis greeted warmly as he embraced the Belgian woman. "How are you?"

After the blonde woman responded fine in a chirpy voice, the other man, an albino with a big smirk, also greeted her in a pretty upbeat voice, "Guten tag, Emma! The awesome Gilbert is here! Are the lovebirds in their nest?"

"Actually, Quan's still out," Emma answered back with a giggle.

"I smell something awesome, though," Gilbert's grin grew wider. "And it's coming from the kitchen!" he immediately made his way and boomed, "What smells so awesome in here!"

Antonio laughed at seeing one of his best friends, "Hola, Gil, mi amigo!" he gestured at the pot that the Prussian albino came closer to eagerly. "I'm cooking dinner for Quan and me tonight!"

"Mein Gott, Toni, it smells awesome," Gilbert inhaled the scent before giving a dreamy sigh. "What is it?"

"Pig's blood," replied Lars flatly.

"It's a Vietnamese dish," beamed Antonio. "It's Valentine's Day after all, so I figured why not? He's working really hard right now at the moment, and I think it's only fair that he comes home and feels nice, don't you?"

"I know the taste will be exceptional, Antoine," said Francis, though he looked unsure. "Still, of all recipes for your lover, you pick the one that contains blood?"

"Reminds me of Blutwurst," Gilbert licked his lips. "It smells awesome, and there's far weirder shit that's been eaten, anyway!"

"How weird are we talking?" Emma asked, genuinely curious while Lars rolled his eyes from the couch.

"I've tried kangaroo meat when I came to Australia before."

"Anyway!" Francis spoke up. He cleared his throat, and this time, a smile was spread out on his face; previously replacing the disgruntled expression, "I think it is sweet that you are cooking something from monsieur Quan's home country for this Valentine's Day." He heaved a dramatic sigh, "Oh, how I wish for somebody to bestow such a meal onto with my fine gourmet taste!"

"Yeah, yeah, Francy-pants," Gilbert waved a hand dismissively as he made a grab for the ladle that Antonio was holding. "Let me try some of that!" taking a little taste, the Prussian grinned at the slightly salty, yet filling texture that spread out on his tongue. "This is awesome!" he declared as he took another spoonful. "You're seriously missing out by being a priss, Francis!"

"Mi amigo, that's enough!" Antonio exclaimed as he yanked the ladle away from Gilbert. "There won't be enough for Quan and I left!"

While Gilbert protested, Francis spoke up again, "By the way, Antoine. I was wondering; how is the relationship between you and Quan?"

"Qué?" Antonio re-stirred the contents of the pot again. "The relationship between Quan and me? Well, we're doing amazingly!" here, his face seemed to go even brighter than before as he spoke with extreme fondness. "He's so sweet, and though he may be silent at times to other people, he's completely open to me! He talks to me, and it's so adorable when he becomes shy; his cheeks becomes as red as a tomato when I kiss him! It's so cute-!"

"That sounds fine and dandy and shit," Gilbert spoke up, chuckling at his brunette friend's gushing. "But I think what Francis is implying is how far has the relationship between the two of you gotten?"

"Huh?" this time, the Spaniard tilted his head. "How far?"

"How far have you both gone down in the relationship?"

"But…I don't know what you mean by that?"

"That pho bastard must have the patience of a freaking saint or something!" snapped Lovino, looking frustrated. "Because now I'm ready to break up with you!"

"Eh? But what'd I do?" asked Antonio, bewildered.

"Toni, have you screwed the guy or not?" Lars questioned in his drawling voice above the uproar and laughter. "Just answer that; yes or no. Have you both fucked, has he entered you – have you both had sex? I can't go any simpler than that."

Following after the Dutchman's words, a rather awkward silence rung about in the air as everyone fixated their gaze first on him, then after several seconds, fixed it upon Antonio who was staring in confusion at the spiky-headed blonde. However, after the words processed in his mind, the Spaniard gave a little gasp before his cheeks suddenly exploded into a rosy red. "O-oh…!" he awkwardly cleared his throat before taking a deep breath. "Well…"

"Have you?"

"No…" responded Antonio in a quiet sigh. Everyone else could clearly detect the disappointment that was traced there.

"You don't sound too happy about that," noted Emma as she gave a little frown.

"Hold on, you want to fuck him?" Lovino asked as he arched his eyebrows. Scarily enough, he seemed surprisingly interested, though.

Antonio's blush deepened even more upon the choice of words the Italian spouted. "Lovi!" he scolded. "Don't say such things! It's embarrassing!"

"Spare me your damn sermon!" said the Italian, now irritated again. "You're not my mother, asshole!"

"But mademoiselle Emma has a point," remarked Francis, intrigued. "You do sound quite dissatisfied with that. Is what Lovino said correct? You want to have sex with monsieur Quan?"

After licking his lips, Antonio heaved a sigh before turning off the stove once the contents inside the pot looked very well complete. He placed his ladle down and turned to face them all. "Okay, sí," he admitted with his emerald eyes travelling to the tiled floor. He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, "I do want to…you know…do it with him. At least on today on Valentine's Day." He blushed a little, feeling rather self-conscious, "I-I know it sounds dumb, but…"

"Mon dieu!" Francis gave a dramatic gasp. "That is not dumb at all! It is perfectly normal for a man wanting to make love with somebody they genuinely love with all their heart on such a joyous occasion such as this!"

"Yeah, Toni!" agreed Emma. "There's nothing wrong with that! Mathias and I did that last Valentine's – it was great!"

"You did what with who now?" Lars glowered, snapping his head up.

"Nothing!"

"Look, Toni," Gilbert spoke up as he placed a fist on his hip. "There's nothing wrong with that; you've both been together for what? Four years? It's perfectly normal wanting to have sex with him; he is pretty chaste."

"You can't blame the pho bastard for being chaste, though," surprisingly, it was Lovino who spoke up. "He's from a really traditional family – so he's into the whole sex after marriage thing."

"Much like you, eh, Lovi?" Gilbert smirked.

"Better than being a whore," snorted Lovino.

The albino chuckled, "Nice counter there." He and the Italian suddenly bumped fists albeit the latter seemed a bit reluctant at first.

"Then again, he's already gone against his traditions," Lars said tonelessly as he twirled his pipe. "Didn't his mother throw a huge fit when he brought you to his family's house, and came out?"

"Sí, yes," Antonio nodded as he flushed this time due to the memory. "She was really angry with him when he told her that he had no interest in the arranged marriage that was occurring, and she yelled at me, too." He shuffled a little uncomfortably in his spot, "I…to be honest, I was really scared – she was holding a butcher's knife for one thing, and she was screaming so loudly at Quan as well. And…" he bit his bottom lip. "What she said was really hurtful, too…"

Sensing that they were all emerging very deep water, Francis spoke up quickly on behalf of everyone else, "Well, fear not! That is the past, non? And you and Quan have your happy ending now! You're both living together in perfect harmony like a married couple, and are very much in love with each other! Now…" his face pulled down to a serious expression while his baby blues burned keenly. "Back to business. You want to make love with monsieur Quan, correct?"

"S-sí!" replied Antonio, a little shocked at how seriously Francis was making the whole thing. "I do."

"Well, making him a meal from home is a good start," said Francis. "My question though, is have you ever tried to make love with him before?"

"Well…" Antonio found himself blushing again. "We've already gone past kissing – we've made out a couple of times, and…that's when it stops."

"What stops?" inquired Lovino. "What the hell do you do?"

"Umm…" Antonio scratched his head. "I start running my hands down his body to his pants or shorts, and that's when he stops and tells me that he doesn't want to do it. I don't want him to be uncomfortable, scared or upset at me, so I stopped there."

"Hmm…" Francis rubbed his chin. "Well, it sounds like in order for the both of you to engage, he must be the one to initiate it. Have you ever tried to…shall we say? Turn him on?"

His face now that of a tomato, Antonio nodded his head a little, "Sí. I've tried."

"What have you tried?" inquired Emma.

"Well," Antonio scratched his head as a slight scowl formed on his face while he tried to think. "I've been thinking of trying to wear, you know, less clothing a few times, but I remembered that his mother said…really mean comments about modesty when it concerned me, and so I decided against it to prove to her that-"

"Well, fuck his mother!" snapped Gilbert. "I'm pretty sure Quan wants nothing to do with her after that incident; he chose you over her, right? You've been living together for a hell of a long time! You want in his pants, ja? Just dress yourself up as a topless bunny boy waiter or something, and serve him his Vietnamese chow when he comes home!"

"That does sound like a good idea," Francis mused as he scratched his chin. "I'm impressed you were able to think of something like that, monsieur Gilbert."

"Hey, I may not be the most romantic of guys," Gilbert stated matter-of-factly. "But I do know the rule of sexy."

"Really?" Antonio's grass green eyes widened. "So…if I do that – go and dress up as a shirtless waiter, Quan would make a move on me and we can do it?"

"Don't see why not," Lars remarked as he heaved on his pipe again. The grey smoke causing Lovino, Emma and Francis to hack and gag from where they were. "It'll somewhat involve a bunny – who doesn't like bunnies?"

"Maybe also when you serve him the food, you feed him it, too!" piped up Emma excitedly after recovering from her brother's smoking. She grinned like the Cheshire cat, "I'm sure he'll love that!"

Antonio smiled fondly, "I do love feeding him at times. He gets embarrassed when I do it, but it's so-"

"Cute, yeah we already know," Lovino sighed tiredly. "Your pho bastard boyfriend is cute as fuck – we know, we know, we know…" He then cleared his throat, "But in all seriousness, I think this plan could actually be pulled off. And the tomato bastard might be able to finally get lucky tonight." He then leaned back on his chair, "But, I think there is one more thing you can do while conducting that shit, too,"

"R-really?" Antonio asked, bewildered. His Italian cousin actually had some advice on the matter? "What is it, then, Lovi?"

"No doubt wearing a skimpy outfit and flashing a shit load of skin would be able to work on most dicks," Lovino remarked. "However, we're not really talking of a normal dick here, are we? We're talking about pho bastard of all people! But, he seems to have a weak spot for you, which I still don't know as to why the fuck he would in the first place. I do think that if you're able to sweet-talk with him, and call him stuff, he might get turned on with that."

"Oh, I see!" Antonio nodded in understanding. "But…what do I call him?"

"Something that's not rude for one thing," Lars drawled as he let out a puff on his pipe. "Or an innuendo – he's not stupid like you."

Antonio cried, "That's really, really mean!"

However, he was ignored as Lovino snickered and the Dutchman continued while rubbing his chin, "Hmm…this is actually pretty hard…"

"What time is he coming home, mon ami?" questioned Francis. "What time?"

Antonio peered up at the clock and exclaimed, "Oh! He'll be home in about half an hour!" He then smoothed out his yellow apron and ran a hand through his mocha-coloured locks, "So, should I get ready, then?"

"The only thing you can get ready with is the table and the food," said Lars. "You're barely going to wear anything, anyway."

Still, it didn't hurt Francis, Gilbert and Lovino to hurriedly usher Antonio upstairs into the room he shared with Quan while Emma convinced her brother to heave his butt off the couch and help her prepare the table. Inside the room upstairs, Gilbert whistled, "I'm still in awe that the two of you haven't screwed yet – you have a nice, large bed, and a great view of the beach, too!"

"Hopefully if our plan is successful, Antoine can finally have that opportunity of making love with his beloved tonight!" Francis was opening the wardrobe, and began yanking at clothes inside. He rubbed his chin again as he called over his shoulder, "You should strip while I'm looking for what to give you to wear for tonight."

"Why the hell are you even scrutinizing that?" demanded Lovino as Antonio began to comply by removing his apron. "He's going to wear almost nothing!" he was silenced when Francis threw out what appeared to be a black cloth and a bow-tie to match; the bow-tie smacking right into the Italian's face. During this, Antonio had succeeded in yanking his red shirt off, and removed his belt before peeling his jeans down his legs.

All while the Italian raised a screeching, spitting storm of profanities.

Quan was grumbling in his car as he drove home – obviously in a rather foul mood. It was all Alfred's fault, anyway – the stupid American really didn't know when to keep his big mouth shut, and mind his own damn business. The Vietnamese man's grip was tight on the steering well as he braked harshly at a red light; glaring up at it with his glowering golden orbs. Rubbing his temple as he exhaled, he tried to calm himself down – there was no way he wanted Antonio to see him stressed out and angry over something so dumb. The smiling Spaniard tended to dote and worry a lot whenever Quan was exhausted or frustrated, and though the Asian found that notion really sweet, he really didn't like being the cause of making the green-eyed brunette so concerned.

Once the traffic light reached green, Quan drove past while all the while, unable to keep certain thoughts out of his head.

Certain thoughts that were rather…erotic in nature.

Again, it was all Alfred's fault. The American thought it interesting to spout out a bunch of random things in concern to Antonio, and it really pissed Quan off a lot. The dark-haired Asian hated how the blonde was speaking so casually of his beloved in that way and how apparently a bunch of others viewed him – as if he were some fresh piece of meat out for display. Strangely, while Alfred rattled on some suggestions on what Antonio would look like in such situations – one involving bunny ears, the Vietnamese man was horrified to discover that the thought of the coffee-haired Spaniard in such descriptive positions and being scantily clad made strange tremors run down his spine, and slowly creep down to his nether regions.

'Damn you, Alfred F Jones.'

Once he reached the driveway and took the keys out from the ignition, Quan slammed the door with such force, that it boomed around the neighbourhood; even scaring a couple who were just innocently walking by while holding hands. Still, the Asian cared not – he just wanted to go home and spend some nice, quality time with the person he loved the most – his company would definitely calm his weary figure. Before he unlocked his front door, he reassured himself over and over again that things would be fine – these thoughts were normal, and would eventually subside, right? And besides, it's not like Antonio wanted this to happen, either. It's a curious thought, but the Viet wasn't really sure if he still wanted to go through with that – it may have already been four years for the two of them together, but still…

"I'm home," he called out before shutting the door behind him.

"I'm here, mi amor~" Antonio's warm voice rung down the hallway. Quan noticed at this point that the house was void of any light except for what appeared to be dim glowing that came from the dining room. There was also the aroma of something that smelled wonderful and familiar that uplifted his spirit. Extremely curious, he quickly sauntered down the hallway to see what it was…

…and promptly almost got a heart attack.

Ends here for now because I'm still working on the second half - I kid you not, that it was 20 pages on Word, and it still wasn't even finished yet! XD

The second part will have smut, so there's a little heads-up to you before I post it up. =^^=

Peace out!
- Hebi-Kazechi-10