After coaxing the young, naïve and innocent Italian to sleep in the guestroom, Antonio Carriedo tip-toed into the hallway and ended up at Lovino's bedroom. It was, of course, locked.

"Lovi, unlock the door, por favor." He cooed.

"Fuck you, Antonio. Go away." Was the answer he got?

Sighing, the Spaniard took out two straightened paper clips and put them into the keyhole. He twisted the two pieces of metal.

Click!

The door unlocked and Antonio hid the paperclips before walking in. He found Lovino curled into fetal position on the big, neat and made up bed. Strange, he hadn't messed the covers yet.

Curtains were closed, blocking out the gloomy sight of the wintery day. The room was dark, giving off a feeling of depression in the air.

"Lovino, what is wrong?" He asked quietly, sitting down on the bed and cautiously brushing a hand through the brown-eyed man's soft hair.

"What's wrong? What's wrong? That's all you can say?" Lovino screamed with rage, jumping up and almost strangling his husband. "All you can do is ask, and not give me any answers? You are the worst man I've ever met! That French prick can do better than you!"

Antonio huffed. He was a tad disappointed that his fantasies of Lovino changing his manners and start becoming loving and caring, just like his younger brother.

"I apologize, Amor."

"Apologize, apologize! That's what you do," Lovino groaned, throwing himself onto the green eyed man, wrapping his arms around Antonio's neck.

The Spaniard smiled, kissing the strawberry-brown hair on his bride's head.


Ludwig groaned. He had a huge hangover from last night. His neck popped as he looked around the room. He was at home, good.

Feliciano would have to come home sooner or later…


"Ugh, stupid French," Arthur groaned again, putting a hand to his huge belly. It was almost his due date, and Francis just wouldn't leave him alone! His twins did him no good by sitting on his bladder..!

"But Arthur," Francis had replied, kissing him again on the lips. "Our bébé is coming soon!" and he hopped off to spy on Roderich and Elizabeta.

Now, the Englishman was sitting in the kitchen, craving something he couldn't put his finger on; he wanted to call Francis. But no! He was still mad at his spouse for making him suffer through this oh-so wonderful pain.

Just as Arthur reached for the phone, it rang. He sighed and picked it up, clucking his tongue.

"'Ello?"

"Ve~, hello, Arthur!" It was Feliciano calling.

"Aye! What do you want, Feli?" Arthur groaned. He didn't want to talk to Feliciano, which was obvious.

"Do you remember when we ate those magic mushrooms you gave us?"

Arthur slapped his forehead. "Yeah, you and Wang ate them. So, what?"

"Well, I think that's the cause of our pregnancy," he deadpanned. Arthur's green eyes bulged out of his skull.

"WHAT? YOU MEAN WANG AND YOU WOUND UP BEING LIKE ME? THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE!" he screamed into the phone.

"Since I do have a lover (and so does Wang Yao), we were going along the same path, si?" Feliciano's smile spread throughout his sentence.

"Ugh! Damn you," Arthur cursed before slamming the phone down onto the counter.

"What's wrong now?" He heard Francis' voice coming from the hallway.

Just then, he felt like something had popped. Not a blood vessel, not acne, so what was it? A surge of pain racked his body. Arthur clutched at his stomach.

"Mon petite!" Francis was there in an instant, holding him tight. "Your water just broke, Arthur."

"Gyah," The Brit rasped. "You think I don't know that?"

The French man chuckled and helped his lover into the car; off they were to the hospital.


Feliciano gasped in horror as Arthur cursed him before the conversation was cut. Arthur never cussed that hard! Something must be up.

"Fratello?" Lovino stood behind his sibling.

"Si, Lovi?" He answered, turning around in his chair at the kitchen table.

"I-I'm s-s-sorry…"

Feliciano hopped up to hug his brother. "Oh, Lovi-no!" He squealed. "Lo-vino!"

In the corner, Antonio smiled dumbly; Lovino was a good sport… if you gave him what he wanted. And what he wanted was not to be spoken of.

"Feliciano… you should… well, go back to Ludwig now." Lovino forced his mouth to move. "I mean, he, he cares for you,"

The pregnant one grinned, showing all white and perfectly square teeth; his eyes shown like liquid sugar.

"I guess I should… and maybe go to the doctor, too. Huh, Lovino," He winked.


Ludwig spent his morning thinking about nothing but that Italian of his. He couldn't help but get aroused over each sexual thought and memory he had stored in his brain. Yes, he couldn't control himself.

He lay on the bed in the master bedroom, his hand in his trousers, moaning out Feliciano's name like a wanton whore.

"O-oh, Felici-," he gasped as he squeezed the tip of the head.

The German imagined the Italian stroking him with masterful hands, suckling on the tip every so often, trying to get that sweet and bitter surprise to burst out from his partner; he kept a steady hand on his hips to keep him from bucking up.

"Mehr, oh- more, Feliciano!" He demanded the fantasy to continue.

Every stroke caused his body to be slick with sweat, shuddering under his own ministrations. Ludwig tugged the foreskin back, a digit circling the slit.

"Ludwig," a voice floated into the blonde's head. "Ludwig,"

His head shot up; in front of him was Feliciano. He blinked once, twice, three times. Feliciano was real, he was home!

"Feli- ah!" Ludwig almost screamed as the brunette's mouth engulfed his hard organ. Immediately, he started fucking his lover's face, thrusting in and out; Feliciano sucked harder, moaning again and again.

The Italian nation drooled, his saliva trailing down his Mediterranean chin. But it was so good; he had been craving this interaction for some time now. One question pondered in his head, though. Why weren't his gag reflexes going off?

"Uh, agh, Feliciano!" Ludwig howled and cumming into Feliciano's mouth.

Feliciano swallowed it all, the sticky essence was so thick and even more disgusting than he had thought. He let go of Ludwig and collapsed beside him, a sedated and content smile twitching across his face.

"Hmm, Felici, I missed you… es tut mir leid… I apologize for my wrong." Ludwig laid down, kissing his love on the forehead before sighing in relief.

Feliciano said nothing, snuggling close to the German's chest and falling asleep.


Gilbert awoke to the sounds of cars passing by. He rose to his feet, searching for his Gilbird, which was usually in his white hair. He panicked when his hand returned with nothing.

"Gilbird? Gilbird? Where are you, my Gilbirdie?" He called out.

On the ground, a little yellow chick laid, its soft and angel-like feathers smeared in crimson red blood. Gilbird was dead.

"Nein! Nein! Gilbird! Gilbird! My sweet, little dear Gilbird!" Gilbert cried, dropping to his knees and bawling his eyes out.

"Sir, is there a problem?" A police officer asked in German, tapping the albino on the shoulder.

"A problem, sir..? A problem!" Gilbert screamed. "A problem? Of course there's a problem! Gilbird is dead!"

"Uh…" The officer scratched his head. "Sir, you're going to have to come with me,"

Gilbert didn't even fight back as he stared at his beloved bird lying lifelessly on the pavement. The policeman shook his head and pushed the ruby-eyed man into the car.

Beilschmidt suddenly recollected last night's events. He had tried to pursue his own younger brother!

Honestly, Gilbert thought, he couldn't help it. Ludwig was handsome, he'd grown up so, so pretty. He had a nice body structure, built as well as steel, that blonde hair that shone like gold in the sun… those marine eyes that were filled with the ocean's bluest sea water from the coldest regions across the world. Ludwig was the perfect personification of Germany, and Gilbert loved him so.

Yet, it was wrong to love his sibling in that way… why? No, they had never been raised in a dysfunctional family, so… why? Why did he have feelings for his brother? Ludwig was practically already married to Feliciano Vargas!

He gazed out the window; it was not fair. Why did he have to suffer with his own emotions? His answer, Gilbert cried, was that every life was a test on this earth.


"W-will you marry me?" Ludwig stood in front of the mirror, the door locked and the fan on so Feliciano could not hear him practice. "Ugh, no… I keep stuttering, damn it…"

The blonde leaned on the wall, sliding down to crouch on the floor. How was he going to propose to his mate? They weren't married, yes, that was obvious, but… why not?

Ludwig had gone to almost every jewelry store in Germany, searching for the right type of ring he was sure Feliciano would like. But he still had to remember, Vargas was a boy. He wasn't going to go for any of those "diamonds are forever" type of rings, right?

In the end, German feeling defeated, he stuck with a plain gold ring. Now, he was at home, practicing in front of the bathroom mirror, feeling as though he had failed himself and Feliciano.

"Ludwig~," the Italian called from outside the restroom. "Are you alright? The fan is on, and I can hear you mumbling something!"

Ludwig shot straight up, clasping the ring case shut and pocketing it before turning of the fan, unlocking the door and opening it to face his lover.

"I'm, I'm fine," he answered. "I'll go make an appointment for you at one of the clinics… our child needs to be checked on." Ludwig still doubted Feliciano was pregnant, but he didn't put up a fight.

The brunette shook his head, fisting his hands. "I don't want to see the scary doctor, Ludi!" He complained, tears in his eyes.

"Why?"

"Because he's scary~!" Ludwig sighed, kissing Feliciano once more before travelling to his office to make a call to the clinic.


'ey, Matey! This is the next chapter!