A/N: An idea struck me during the depth of studying for finals. This story has sort of the same gist as Paper Hearts, which I deleted, but there are no AUs this time, although I suppose they are somewhat similar. oTL||| Hope you guys enjoy. Sp/grammatical errors corrected after publication.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

Ludwig did not know why he was at a bar with Antonio, which, for all intents and purposes, really was pointless, since he was designated driver and can't get drunk anyways. But being the nice guy (which was also a euphemism for a total pushover) he was, Ludwig ended up staying there until eleven o' clock. And counting, of course.

And he had no idea Antonio could drink so much wine, either. Nope.

The blond took out his paperwork and began to scan it quickly. Was it sad that he had to sneak out to a bar to finish his work because Feliciano had been pestering him nonstop at the hotel? Perhaps, but the Italian seemed especially clingy today (not that he wasn't every other day of the week).

Antonio was currently propping his head on his arm and circling the hanging lights with one finger. "Whatcha got there, Ger—" He hiccupped. "—manly?"

He ignored how creepily his name was being distorted and threw Antonio a hard look. "My name is Ludwig," he said pointedly, for the sake of the bartender and the other human patrons. "And to your question, this is my paperwork." …that I'm supposed to hand in by tomorrow even though I'm hardly halfway through.

"Why'd you bring it out here?" He laughed, grabbing at the glow of the lights idly. "I'm catching the sun! I'll give it to Lovi as a present…"

"Right…" But inside, Ludwig thought Antonio was doing a pretty good job staying slightly sane, especially since he'd downed eight glasses of liquor. Better than Arthur, at least. "I should bring you back to your hotel."

"Nah…Lovi kicked me out again…I'll go back tomorrow…"

"What did you do this time?" Ludwig asked drily. Speaking of which, Feliciano must be worried sick, but he wasn't done with work yet…

"Nothing, I swear!" he cried, shooting up in his seat and immediately holding his aching forehead with his hand. "Ow, ow, ow…"

Ludwig stuck his hand into his briefcase, looking for a pen. "You invited France and my bruder over without asking him, didn't you?"

"No! Not this time." He reached for his half-emptied glass, but Ludwig pushed it to the side and shoved a cup of water in his hands. "I mean, they came over, but I didn't invite them."

"That's why he kicked you out?"

"No. He kicked me out because I kissed him in front of Gilbert and Francis."

"Hm." Ludwig's pocket began to buzz; he removed his phone and blinked at the flashing words—53 text messages from Feliciano Vargas. Oh, shit. "I really think I should be heading back—"

Antonio lunged for Ludwig until he was literally hanging off from his waist. "W-what the hell are you doing?" the blond hissed.

"You can't leave me here! You have to help me explain to Lovi!"

"You want me to explain that you've been wasting away at a bar?"

"You have to help me, Alemania! He will butcher me if I go back like this! You know he used to be the Underboss in the Italian Mafia, right? Do you even know how many families there are in the Italian Mafia?"

"Uh…"

"No, you don't! There's hundreds, and he won't need their help if he wanted to kill me! He'll butcher my organs himself and I'll wake up in a bathtub of ice water and—"

Oh crap, oh crap, people were starting to stare. Ludwig cleared his throat, trying to pry the Spaniard's arms off of himself. "Antonio, you don't know what you're talking about. Even if he was the boss, which he is not—please let go of my thigh, Spain—he wouldn't do something like that—" His pocket hummed again; 54 messages from Feliciano now.

"Underboss!" Antonio corrected loudly. "That's why he's so angry whenever he remembers it! Let me stay over, please! I'll stay in Gilbert's room, I won't bother you or Feli at all! And I promise I won't let Gilbert into your room when you and Feli have se—"

"What the hell!" He slapped some bills on the counter and walked on, dragging Spain across the floor at the same time. "Let me go, you're making a fool of yourse—"

"Please let me stay, please, please, please, please—"

"No! I have work to do! And we have a meeting tomorrow!"

Antonio's voice turned serious as he stared at Ludwig right in the eye as best he could from the floor. "Believe me, Alemania, I wish Lovino was more affectionate like Feli, just for a day—actually, make that three—"

"And I wish Feliciano could pick up after himself and finish his paperwork on time, but that's not going to happen, is it? I'll call a cab for you, just let go of my leg!"

"No! I'll pay rent!"

"I don't need it!"

Outside…

Arthur laid his head on Alfred's shoulder, drunkenly swinging his empty bottle around like a toy airplane. "You can't drink, Mrs. Fairy, this is just for me!"

"Hey…Artie, will you quit moving around? You're going to fall off—"

The Englishman held on to Alfred's neck tighter. "Oh, belt up, git. I can bloody take care of myself, I didn't need you to help me back—"

"Artie, you were on the counter at the bar and stripping yourself. And France was trying to stuff money down your pants."

"I did no such thing! I am a gentle—" His sentences ended with a squeak and a giggle. "I am a gentleman! And I got two hundred dollars, too!" He waved the bills around, laughing.

"That you are, Artie." Alfred raised his head towards the sky, his eyes lighting up. "Hey, check that out! It's a shooting star! I wish Iggy would stop drinking with France—"

Arthur scoffed, "I don't need some sodding star to grant my wishes." He took out his wand and shook it around. "All I need is this! I'll make everyone's wishes come true!"

"Can you make yourself less drunk?" Alfred inquired, eyeing the wand amusedly. "Did you buy that from Toys R—"

"Can I make myself sexier, is that what you said? I'm already there, love…" Then his head flopped to one side and his breathing evened out.

Alfred sighed. "Good night, Arthur."

The first thing Antonio did when he woke up was to feel his back to see if his kidneys were still intact. The next thing he noticed was that it was daytime, he was in a bed, and he wasn't wearing a shirt.

He lifted the covers open, his eyes bulging out when he saw an equally naked Italian hugging his waist, burrowing his head into the pillows. That could only mean one thing.

Lovino was planning to do something worse in the morning, so that he could listen to Antonio scream when he carved out his innards—

The man stirred sleepily before looking up at Antonio. "Good morning, Spain…" He slung his arm around Antonio's shoulder lazily and smiled.

He smiled. And Antonio wasn't twitching dead on the ground, either.

Antonio knew he should never ever do this, unless he wanted to die an early and horrible death, but he touched Lovino's curl, staring at it in mortification. "Are you—" The curl was pointing towards the right, this wasn't Feliciano…

Lovino bit his lip, his face reddening instantly. "It's so early in the morning, Antonio…" he whispered, his lips curving into a sultry smirk. "But…"

"I'm sorry, Lovi, I was just checking—mmph!"

For the first time in his life, Antonio was pushed back on the bed by an eager Lovino, and soon he found nothing else to say. If he actually succeeded in ignoring Lovino, who was slowly nipping from Antonio's lips to down his neck, he would start to question the strange behavior his lover was exhibiting and how the hell he managed to get back to his room.

But of course, Antonio had never been one to complain, especially not now.