A/N: Hey guys! I'm not dead! Sorry, but I wrote a book last month (I love how casually I say this, yes I'm talking to you past Ella, what's gucci? I'm editing your boring incoherency), so that consumed a lot of my time. I'm editing the book now, so it's still pretty consuming. That's why I'll make the effort to write longer chapters, so it's like 2.5 updates in one ;) Reading and reviewing the recommendations also slows the updates, but it's totally worth it!

I'm still shocked by the better responses I've gotten on tumblr. Man, I might start uploading most of my fics there :D Thank you if you're one of my almost five hundred followers :O (WHAT?!) I just make memes lmfao. Why am I more successful at that than writing fics I take hours and days to make?

Without further ado, let's get to dem recommendations.

#1. "The 50 States of America" by "Greyrabbit14" A multi-chapter where all States, Territories and Capitals are personified. It's a wonderfully creative fic with just the right dose of chaos and hilarity. Oh, and America acts as the father to the states :p

#2. "Playwright Meets Playboy" by "SodaWizard" A witty, USUK one-shot with playful, sarcastic banter. Arthur loves both Shakespeare and Alfred. It's a pity that the latter is unaware of this. Really though, this is just too precious and it's very well thought out.

#3. "Coffee Café" by "Guiltipleasures" A recently completed PruMano with a side of Spamano multi-chapter. You guys know how much of a hoe I am for Spamano, so you know that this story is good if I like it. In other words, the plot was lovely, the dialogue was humorous at times, and not to mention that the relationships were actually realistic :D A rare gem, if I've ever seen one.

#4. "Break Down: A Historical Berlin Wall Story" by "Hetalia-Girl-5000" GUYS! I've been reading this from near the start! It's literally so awesome, as Gil/ Prussia is the main character. It explores the Soviet bloc and how Russia runs his house with an iron fist. The characterization is out of this world. I'm always left pleasantly surprised/ horrified with every twist and turn.

#5. "Anything for You" by "RaindropsOnMyTeaCup" A FrUk celebrity AU where Francis is a famous singer and Arthur is his manager. Literally, I get a cavity during most chapters (lol most, there was the odd chapter where my heart broke, but eh, still an amazing story).

Well, onto the chapter, my smol cinnamon buns! Thank you for the support, and keep it going with the recommendations :D Have a great day/night!

-Ella

Travelling Ships:

Arthur's POV:

It was the morning after the café's Christmas party, more like afternoon, and I was suffering from a massive hangover. When I woke up, I was surprised to see that Francis had left. Knowing how overly touchy he was, he would have wanted to stick around, just to see what drunk Arthur would stupidly spew from his mouth. I was pretty uptight when sober, so it would have been the perfect opportunity for him to pry into my mind like the sly little manipulative cunt that he was.

I had gotten plastered drunk last night, and had said some awfully embarrassing things. I could only hope that Liza's marriage proposal and engagement would erase most of what I had done – congratulations to them, they made a truly lovely couple.

For the most part, I had enjoyed myself, but the toxic headache I had right now was really making me regret drinking so much. I drank to make it easier for myself. Francis both tempted and irritated me, and I didn't want to be restrained by formalities or nervous inhibitions. I wanted to celebrate properly without having a care in the world.

All I remembered was making out with Francis, a lot, oh dear god, and him taking me home last night.

Next thing I knew, it was noon, my one-bedroom apartment was empty – as if I would ever go through the troubles of having a roommate – and I had four hours before my flight for England left. Thankfully, I was already packed and ready to go, having done so the minute I came back from my last exam a few days ago.

I liked being prepared, a routine if you will. That's why it boggled my mind how I had actually taken a liking to Francis. He was just such a flimsy and shady character. He didn't follow any routines; he was spontaneous and all over the place, charismatic and erratic. He overwhelmed me, keeping me on my toes with whatever cheesy, ridiculous pick-up lines he decided to thrust my way. Yes, I meant to say thrust. Francis was a dirty little bugger, especially when he was under the influence.

Still, whatever we had, I didn't mind it. I just wish he would be clearer with his intentions. I didn't know if I was his play toy or if he wanted to take our reciprocal liking for each other farther. That's why I kept my guard up when I was with him.

I didn't have to get attached to enjoy kissing him. He was actually an amazing kisser, but you'll never hear me admit that to him, at least not willingly. Francis was also a double cunt for always finding something to blackmail me about. Usually said blackmail involved me displaying or voicing my affection for him. It was all just so contradictory if you ask me.

Francis was full of mixed signals. Usually, I could read into people, see into their mind just by giving them a quick once-over. But, oh no, not with Francis. He was impossible, a complicated specimen. At first, he had come across as a huge douche to me. It was only now that we were beginning to go on dates that I realized he wasn't all that bad. He even went so far as to wait outside my lecture rooms, walking me home before he attended his own lectures…

He was kind, thoughtful, and went out of his way to compliment me, which only made me feel more embarrassed. I couldn't return the favor, out of sheer mortification that he would laugh at me if I said that I loved how blue his eyes were, how they shined when he smiled, or even that infuriating stubble that peppered his chin and roughly rubbed against my cheeks when he kissed me, gently feathering his lips against mine as if I would break if he held me too hard.

It was his hesitation that made me wonder about where our relationship, if you could even call it that, was going. We were at a romantic stalemate. Kissing was all we ever did. I was too awkward to initiate anything, as it was always Francis who made the first move.

Perhaps that's why I was so disappointed when I woke up without Francis at my side. I had been hoping that maybe, just maybe, he would have at least slept in the apartment. Unfortunately, I've always had rotten luck.

Oh well.

I had four more hours before Alfred was supposed to drive me to the airport. This was the last chance I would have to see Francis before leaving for two weeks. If he wasn't going to say goodbye, then so be it. I wouldn't let it bother me.

I didn't care for going to family gatherings, but since I had spent most of my time in North America with my aunt and uncle, it was high time that I visited them. I wasn't looking forward to seeing my older brothers, as they were all mongrels, but it was the right thing to do. I would likely just keep to myself and spend most of my time in my bedroom. Although, last time I did that, Alistair had lit my door on fire… please… for the love of God – catholic, protestant or whatever the hell else – don't ask.

Somehow, I found myself thinking about Francis again, which prompted me to press my face into my pillow, letting out a pathetic croak. It was disturbing how much the thought of not seeing him before I left bothered me. It made me doubt myself a lot. I was pining about like a lovesick school girl and it made me want to slap myself for how cliché and needy I was being.

To keep my mind off Francis, I got out of bed, groaning as I drew all the curtains shut. My eyes were still sensitive to the light, and my temples wouldn't stop throbbing. Several teas later, and I was still blankly staring at my laptop's keyboard, expecting the words to magically formulate themselves.

I intended to get some work done before I left. If all went as planned, I would get back late on Christmas eve, meaning that I would miss the party and not have to socialize.

I wanted to take some time to write, selfish as this may be of me. The exam period had absorbed most of my free time, and I hadn't had the chance to indulge in one of my recreational stories, those of which were not up for grading.

It was a pity that my hangover still lingered, both emotional and physical. For every sentence I typed, I would pause, staring at my window in the hopes that I would see Francis standing outside – the front window was the only one I hadn't covered. Catching myself in the act, I would then slap my face, mentally scolding myself for stalling. It was humiliating how flustered entertaining the thought of Francis arriving at my apartment made me.

Despite this, my gaze always fell to the window. Time escaped me, and another hour passed. I had been staring for so long, void of emotion that I nearly jumped three feet in the air when someone knocked on my front door.

"J-just a minute!" I stammered, scrambling out from underneath the covers. I had been resting against the headboard of my bed, a pillow on my lap, and my laptop on top of the pillow. It was my favourite writing position, but to an outsider, it would appear as if I had never gotten out of bed.

Technically, I hadn't, as I was still wearing loose sweats and a grey long-sleeved shirt. My hair was beyond messy, it was catastrophic. Usually, I didn't put much effort into it, but at least I bothered to comb it through, unlike today. I was lazy, not expecting to see anyone before I went on my flight. Of course, that didn't mean I didn't want to see anyone…

The person at the door gave another firm rap, the sharp sound of it irritating my still ever present migraine.

"I said one minute!" I snapped, wheezing a little as I shuffled towards the door. My body was still weak from the alcohol. I hadn't quite detoxified yet, even with all the tea I had been drinking.

I opened the door and my jaw dropped open. Francis was standing on my front mat, casually whistling with his hands behind his back. He was holding onto something, I just didn't know what. He was wearing a black trench coat, casual jeans, and had his blond hanging loose around his shoulders. The simultaneous wink and smirk he gave me made my heart skip a solid beat.

"Bonjour, mon chou!" Francis happily exclaimed.

Suddenly, I felt inferior, self-consciously glancing down at the atrocious Christmas fuzzy slippers I had on.

"What are you doing here?" I sighed, biting my tongue. It took a lot of effort not to be rude to him. Besides, it was the holidays. I could be a grinch-type figure for the rest of the year. As a writer, I loved to sprinkle irony and sarcasm everywhere I went.

I held onto the door frame, feeling my knees wobble.

"Oh mon dieu," Francis simpered, pouting his lips in concern. I forced myself not to look at them, I was already weak as it was, I didn't need my willpower to cave as well. I'll have you know that I was a gentleman with pride. "Are you feeling unwell? You look hungover," Francis observed.

"That's because I am," I grunted. "Now are you going to answer my question? I have a flight in three hours, and I don't need you wasting my time with your unconcise flamboyance."

"I came to say goodbye, of course," Francis stated with an indignant huff. "What kind of man do you take me for? Was I not the one to take you home last night? Was I not the one who tucked you in bed and ensured that you had a glass of water at your bedside for when you woke up?"

Oh, so that was him.

I furrowed my brows. "I can't give you a definitive answer. I honestly didn't expect much, but thank you for last night. That was very kind of you," I paused to peak at what Francis was holding behind his back. "What in God's name are you holding there?"

"Arthur," Francis rolled his eyes. "What I'm holding can wait. Judging by how cold you're acting towards me, you didn't expect that I would come to say goodbye, did you?"

I didn't respond.

Francis's shoulders deflated in disappointment. "Ah," he muttered. "Desole. I should have made more time for you, but you know how busy school gets at this time of year. I want to cherish what little time we have left. Other than last night, I haven't gotten to see you lately. I miss your grumpiness and permanent scowl. It's really quite endearing," he chuckled, before faltering, a sad expression crossing over his face.

"Can I ask you something?" he asked me.

"Yes, you may," I said in a stiff voice.

"What am I to you?" Francis inquired, his voice far more serious than what I was used to.

"Well, what am I to you?" I angrily retorted, becoming defensive.

Francis shook his head in disbelief. "If this is what it takes to get you to open up to me, then fine. You're very important to me, Arthur. I believe that what we have is special. You're the first person I haven't ever gotten tired of. At first you were interesting, mysterious even since you hardly ever spoke to me, and when you did it was nothing but insults. But then, I got to know you, the real you. You're kind, intelligent, and even funny at times. You bring a smile to my face every time I see you and those alluring green eyes of yours. I guess what I'm trying to say is that you confuse me. I want to be closer to you, but I can't help but feel like you don't want me for more than I'm known for; someone to play around with."

I blushed. "You're an idiot, a moron, no! A fool!" I shouted, too many emotions freeing themselves at once. It was a giant clusterfuck. "I want to be closer to you too! But then you have the audacity to leave me all on my own last night. Whenever I try to take things farther, you always back away and chuckle your obnoxious 'honhonhon' arse off!"

"That's because I don't want to take advantage of you, you imbecile!" Francis retorted, looking like he wanted to wave a fist at me, but was unable to do so due to the mysterious object (s) he was carrying behind his back.

"All the time, I'm trying to get inside your head, and voila, there is nothing but a stubborn blockhead! I don't know what you want and it scares me! So I don't do anything because I know how sensitive you are! You never tell me what's on your mind! And excuse you! Is that how you react to me being romantic, by insulting moi?! Oh! And another thing! Just so you know, I only left you so that I could wake up early and make you t-this! You'll need good food if you're going to be spending your holidays in ze plain food black sheep country!"

Francis thrust forward several glass Tupperware containers of homecooked meals.

I inhaled sharply, accepting the containers from him.

Francis's cheeks were now dusted a light pink.

I know it wasn't the appropriate or right time, but I burst out laughing anyway.

"That's it! I'm done! There's no winning with you!" Francis said in exasperation, raking a hand through his hair.

"No! No!" I protested, grabbing my sides. "I'm flattered, really I am. But, you do realize that you can't bring food on a plane, right?"

Francis's lips parted open in realization. "Oh… I was still very drunk when I cooked this…"

"You must have been," I snickered, placing the Tupperware on the front table by the door, next to my keys.

Francis pouted.

"Francis," I started.

"Non, don't talk to me," Francis whined, turning his back on me on shame.

"Francis," I repeated, placing a hand on his right shoulder. "Look at me, love."

I gently turned the stubborn Frenchman around, surprising him when I stretched on my toes to give him a quick peck on the lips. A surge of warmth spread through me, he smelled as sweet and savory as he always did, a pleasant mix of cinnamon and nutmeg. "I'm sorry," I apologized. "I suppose that we've both had a serious miscommunication with each other. I was under the impression that you weren't looking for anything serious, and yet I still wanted to do things with you… I still do. I know that's not the truth now. Honestly, this is perhaps the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, even if the logic of it all is severely faulted. Point is, I appreciate you and everything you've done. Thank you, from the bottom of my cold dead heart," I teased.

Francis's smirk returned, giving me a sense of hope. "Still as insufferably sarcastic as always," he mused. "But I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm glad we were able to tell each other what we want. I'm sorry too, I shouldn't have lost my temper like that. I adore you, Arthur, I always have."

My agreement was muffled when Francis wrapped his arms around me in a hug, letting my head rest against the crook of his neck. "I suppose you can still keep the food," he murmured. "You can put it in the freezer and eat it when you come back after the break."

"Hmmmph," I grumbled. "What I cook for myself is perfectly fine."

Translation: I'll eat the damn food, but you won't hear anything about it. No, you don't get any bragging rights. Gloat and I'll stuff an entire scone down your stupid, raspy throat.

Francis understood me well enough. Chuckling, he closed the door behind us, taking off his coat to reveal a fitted white blouse underneath. Immediately, his maternal side came out, and before I knew it, he was pushing me towards the bed, bluntly telling me that I looked awful and insisting that I get some rest before leaving for my flight. His flight wasn't for another day, so unfortunately, I had no retort for that.

While Francis busied himself in the kitchen, putting away the leftovers and brewing some new tea for me to drink, I settled down on my mattress.

Francis got angry again when he saw this, placing the tray of tea on my bedside table. "What part of rest do you not understand?" he deadpanned. "Mon petit, you're only going to give yourself a headache. You need to eat something too, I don't like how pale your complexion is."

Sighing, I put my laptop to the side. Francis joined me on the bed while I half-heartedly nibbled on a croissant he had buttered for me. "I haven't written anything for a long time," I scoffed.

"That's your entire program, non?" Francis asked. "Writing stories, that is."

I sighed when Francis wrapped his arm around me. The warmth felt nice. My head was still all over the place from the slowly diffusing alcohol. "It's not the same," I weakly argued. "Those stories are being judged and graded. It takes the fun out of everything. I'm always worrying about how to impress the reader, rather than just writing for myself."

"Oh, I see," Francis remarked. "No wonder you're so stressed all the time."

I rolled my eyes. It had become habit for Francis to confiscate my laptop. I brought it with me everywhere. Either way, it wasn't like I could write with Francis around. He was a lovely distraction that always messed with my schedule. Thankfully, I worked ahead of time, and was never put too far behind.

Although, what he had said earlier was true. The last week or so we hadn't seen much of each other. In between studying, I found myself to get bored without his presence; his absence left a waking hole once you had gotten used to it. We hadn't had the chance to go the café or meet up.

Spending time with him now was… nice. It made me not want to leave. The moment was perfect and calm. I didn't see this side of Francis often, one where he wasn't being smug all the time. He was letting himself relax. The way he was gently holding me made me feel loved. He wasn't asking for anything more than my company. We didn't have to be sexual to be physically and emotionally intimate.

It was the simple things that mattered. He was the first person to brush past my anger; he took the time to get know the real me. I snapped at people because I had little self-esteem and was reluctant to trust others. That was the best trait about Francis; short-tempered as he may be like me, he was paradoxically patient when he needed to be. Sure, he was irksome most of the time, a tart if you will, but he was my tart. He accepted me for who I was, and I wanted to do the same for him, to let him know that even if I didn't show it all the time, I cared about him just as much.

Since he was relaxing, I would let myself go too. I was still pretty stubborn about it though. I wasn't going to tell him to keep petting my head like he was, but I wasn't going to stop him either.

The words left my lips before I could filter my thoughts. "I don't want to leave," I whispered. "I'm going to miss you."

I felt Francis's chest stiffen. "Then don't," he hummed.

I pulled away, turning back to look at him with an incredulous expression. "Pardon me?"

"I said don't. Come to France with me. We can spend Christmas together. My parents won't be home for the most part, and we can exchange your ticket. If not, I'll just use my credit card to purchase you a new one," Francis stated, his eyes dead serious.

"I-I can't just blow off my family! And I don't want to owe you money!" I protested, even if I did fancy the idea of spending Christmas with him.

"It doesn't matter, don't you see?" Francis exclaimed, a wide grin spreading across his cheeks, causing the dimples to pop out. "Money isn't an issue. And if you want to spend time with your family, we can always fly there for a quick visit before the semester starts. You're always telling me how much you despise going to family reunions. You can still give them a mandatory visit, but you should spend Christmas with someone you want to spend it with."

I raised a wry brow at Francis. "Are you saying that I would want to spend Christmas with you?"

"Angleterre, we've been cuddling for the last hour and a half and every time I stop petting your hair, you fidget until I start doing it again. You're not fooling moi. This time I truly know that you want to be with me, and I'm not going to let you slip away so easily, not when we've established such good communication. This a chance for us to truly get to know each other, to become best friends on top of being lo…ah, ahem, partners. So, what do you say? Will you come?"

I blushed profusely. Everything Francis said sounded romantic with that his gravelly voice. Now that he was actually being romantic, I felt like he had just asked me to marry him. Warm, sapphire eyes locked their sights on me, hope sparking across the surface.

I hated to admit it, but money wasn't an issue with Francis. His family owned a very successful and well-known designer clothing company. Similarly, as long as I visited my family at some point during the break, I'm sure they wouldn't mind. It's not like they noticed me all that much anyway. So what if I wanted to be pampered like a spoiled brat. I deserved it, didn't I? Francis made me feel so important and I too didn't want this newfound affection of ours to end so abruptly.

"Fine," I relented. "I don't even know where to start on how to make this up to you. Please, for the love of God, if you bought me something for Christmas, return it."

Francis excitedly pulled me into a hug, squealing and honhonhon'ing to his heart's content. Bloody attractive fool. "You coming back with moi will be my Christmas present. And all right, all right. I was planning to get you something on boxing day, but if I must, I'll agree with you on something, just this once."

"Good," I said, allowing myself to smile as I bumped my forehead against his. "I'm glad we're on the same page. I still can't believe that I'm going to France with you."

The giddiness had yet to set in.

"Want to hear something else that you won't believe?" Francis mused.

"What?" I asked, feeling dread claw at my stomach.

"When you were drunk last night, you told me something really interesting. I didn't take it to heart, but now I must now if it's true…"

"Well, get on with it then!" I growled.

"You said that you love me? Is that true?"

I felt an intense urge to punch myself and then Francis for making me experience such a confusing string of emotions.

True to myself, I responded sarcastically.

"I wouldn't be sitting in your lap right now if I did."

Francis's face was no longer pink.

It was red enough to match mine, resolving much of my previously crumbled pride.

…

Lovino's POV: (December 25th)

It was Christmas day, mid-morning. Rather than opening presents right away, Antonio wanted to bake first for some reason. So that's what we did. We had gotten the chance to sleep in a little, as we had spent most of Christmas Eve casually sipping wine, watching movies, cuddling, and just chatting for several hours on end.

It wasn't an overly special way to spend the night, but it was definitely memorable. I enjoyed spending time with Antonio, even if I wasn't the most vocal about this with said bastard. He was just happy to sleepover, seeing as how Feliciano was staying over at Ludwig's single dorm room. Since Antonio's family had immigrated to America and lived on the other side of the country, he was the only one out of his friends group who stayed back at the University during the holidays. Hence, why he was fucking ecstatic to have someone, aka me to spend the holidays with.

I was also happy about this, as it was my first time celebrating the holidays with someone who genuinely wanted to be with me, rather than out of pure obligation as blood-related family. Stupid bastard, making me get all sentimental and crap.

I was still sleepy, but Antonio was as cheerful as ever, chirping about anything he could get his perverted lips on. Spanish music was playing from his phone on the counter as he mixed the ingredients for sugar cookies in a stainless-steel baking bowl. The idiot was bare chested, wearing a pink apron that spelled "Hot Papi" on the front in bold red letters, and black sweatpants that hung loose around his back dimples.

Antonio absolutely refused for me to turn up the heat, as he wanted an excuse for me to cuddle closer to him, especially during the night when he had none too discretely turned down the heat to a frigid low. Thankfully, Jowltito's disobedience came in handy, and there was a third prescence to warm up the bed.

Speaking of that melodramatic shitbag, Jowlito, oddly enough had taken an extreme liking to me. In other words, he liked me the best out of anyone, even Feli, who fed and walked the pup. He followed me around everywhere that I went, his big brown eyes wide with adoration. I swear, his stubby little tail never stopped wagging whenever he was around me. At first, I had been creeped out by this, but with time, I got used to him always sitting on my lap, begging for food, or snoring in a curled up pile of fur at the foot of my bed. He was like a stress ball, albeit annoying when he began to whine if I wasn't giving him enough attention.

Kind of like how he was now. I was sitting on the couch, bundled up in all kinds of sweaters and blankets as I grudgingly watched Antonio parade about the kitchen half-naked. Jowltito was sprawled on my lap, sleepily sniffing in content. I absently scratched the back of his floppy ear in between shivering and closing my mouth to stop it from chattering too loudly.

Jowltito shifted, his sharp elbows causing me to yelp in pain. The pup was already close to thirty pounds; he was no longer the tiny little thing I had first grudgingly welcomed into my apartment.

"Ah! Fuck!" I cursed. "Tito, you're hurting Papa!" Oh yeah, Antonio was 'Tito's' Papi, and I was his Papa. Moving on, and yes, I know you're grinning like a total dork right now. Fucking stop, you smug little fucks.

Jowltito responded with a grand sigh, but didn't bother to correct his position. Go figure.

Antonio laughed from the kitchen. "The smell of Papa's muy tasting cooking must have woken him up," he trilled with a smile, his posture practically screaming self-inflated pride.

I rolled my eyes, mercilessly moving Jowltito off my lap, and by mercilessly, I mean gently placing him to the side because I didn't want him to rouse him. "Or maybe it's the fact that it's fucking freezing in here," I growled under my breath.

As soon as I stood up from the couch, Jowltito conveniently rose from his slumber. I nearly tripped over him several times as I made my way into the kitchen.

"Nope, I'm having none of your attitude today," Antonio lectured, pulling out a tray of finished sugar cookies from the oven. The treats were a little plain from my tastes, but you know how stubborn Antonio is. Once he had set his mind on something, there was no changing it. This would probably explain why we had ended up together in the first place.

"You promised to be nice today," Antonio finished, setting the tray aside. He then plucked a cookie from a plate containing an already cooled batch. "Cookie?"

"Fine." Grumbling, I accepted the cookie from him, breaking it in half. I already knew the drill.

Jowltito barked, rubbing his head against my calves, which were covered by ugly fuzzy Christmas socks.

I looked down at the pup and deadpanned, waving the half-broken cookie in front of him. "This isn't good for you," I snapped. "Do you want to die?"

Jowltito barked again; his tail had yet to stop wagging.

"Same," I sighed, bending over to give Jowltito the other half of the cookie. All dog owners can probably relate. Your food is automatically their food too.

Antonio smiled at the sight of me babying our 'son'. "Aw, don't you just love family?" he cooed, placing his hands on his hips, filling the motherly role suspiciously well. Uh, not that us gays had to live up to heteronormative standards or anything. It was just funny seeing Antonio wearing an apron, that's all.

I smirked. "So, what now? Presents?" I asked impatiently.

Antonio shook his head in disbelief, taking off his apron, folding it and putting it away in a drawer. I pretended to ignore that he was leaving a shit ton of unwashed dishes in the sink. Besides, it wasn't as if I was going to wash them. Feli always did the cleaning around here. He was slightly lazier though, as he was an avid user of the dishwasher.

"You're just like a child," he mused fondly. "Grumpy, moody, and hungry all the time. But yes, I think it's a good time for presents. Are you still okay that we're meeting up with the others later? We can just stay home if you want…"

Antonio shifted slightly, pouting his lips. He knew that I couldn't say no to him. Either way, I wasn't a total asshole. Gilbert and Ludwig were staying back at the University as well, as they now had boyfriends to enjoy the day with. Unfortunately, Christmas last year was when my brother had gotten with the potato (on the phone, mind you), so they were hosting a dinner at the latter's apartment, celebrating two things in one. December was the one time of the year where I forced myself to be social.

Still, being around so many people always turned out to be exhausting. Antonio knew my preference to be around less people, but was adamant that I got out of my apartment more when I wasn't working.

"I said yes, didn't I?" I asked. "Now come on, I have a really good present for you."

I took Antonio's hand to lead him out of the kitchen, faltering when I saw the hesitant look on his face. He was nervous about me spending too much money on him for his present, guilty too as he couldn't afford to get me a big present. No matter how many times I told him that I didn't care what he got me, he still felt inferior in comparison. I had a habit of spoiling him rotten on random shopping trips, as he was completely clueless when it came to dressing himself. He felt like he owed me; little did he know that his love and affection was more than enough to act as compensation.

I gave Antonio a side-glance. "If it makes you feel better, your gift hardly cost me anything."

In truth, I was impatient because I really wanted to make him even happier with my present.

Antonio's green eyes lit up considerably.

I chuckled, letting go of his hand. "Go, put something on first. You're shivering like crazy, dumbass. I'll be waiting in the living room."

"Okay," Antonio eagerly nodding his head. "I have to get your present from my room anyway!"

With that said, Antonio headed back to my room to get into something warmer. He'd slept over enough times that he had a few spare shirts of his own lying in my closet. The closet was also where he had hidden my present – for the past two days, he was the only one allowed to pull clothing from it. Keh.

Meanwhile, I sat cross legged on the living room carpet. Jowltito curled up next to my thigh, sniffing my hand in confusion, wondering what I was holding. His whiskers and wet nose tickled me, almost causing me to smile, almost. The pup was more irritating to me than endearing. I was still traumatized from Feli's initial failure to potty train him.

Antonio came back wearing a grey turtle neck sweater that I had bought for him. His hair was sticking up funnily from static electricity, but the real fire was in his eyes. He looked at me as if I was his entire world. It was embarrassing how huge his grin became the moment he locked gazes with me.

Suddenly, I was surrounded my two puppies as Antonio ordered me to close my eyes. I heard him happily shuffle about, knocking into several things, yelping and likely stubbing his toe before he gave me the okay to open my eyes.

When I did, I tried my best not to act confused when I saw Antonio holding a plant pot with soil in it. He was sitting across from me, so I couldn't do much to hide the perplexion on my face. "You got me a pot?" I asked.

I didn't sound rude, but I didn't exactly sound overjoyed either.

Thankfully, Antonio's grin didn't fade. "No, silly! I got you a tomato plant! You know how much I love tomatoes and gardening, so I wanted to share my hobby with you! You, also, um, remind me of a tomato… did I say that I love tomatoes? You also eat a lot of tomatoes too, so I thought that it would be helpful to have some right at your own home," he trailed off shyly, his cheeks a bright pink as he looked up at me through bashful lashes. "I'm sorry, this is all I could really afford…"

"Oh," I said blankly.

And then came the waterworks. It was a simple present, but the sentiment was too sweet for words.

"No, Lovi! Don't cry!" Antonio panicked. "If you don't like it, I can always get you something else."

"No!" I blurted out, causing Jowltito to flinch. "It's not that. I love it, don't you fucking dare even think of taking it back. God, you're such a moron."

"This," I said, grabbing the plant pot from him, hugging it close to my chest. "Is the most thoughtful and sincere present I've ever received. I couldn't have asked for a better gift, Tonio," I admitted. "Truthfully, I've always wanted to have my own garden, but Nonno didn't even trust me to have a goldfish."

Antonio let out a sigh of relief. "I'm glad you like it. I didn't want you to cry this much, it's really not that big of a deal. Although, I kinda do agree with your Nonno; I have yet to see you walk Tito," he mumbled. "Even I've walked him, and I don't even live with him all the time!"

I only heard the first part of his statement. My ears were still buzzing from the shock and glee of sharing such a precious moment with him.

Oh, but it was a big deal. Even if Antonio didn't realize it, he knew me so well that I didn't have to tell him what I wanted. The plant was the perfect thing to remind me of him whenever he wasn't with me.

I indulged myself further by letting myself smile at him, chuckling lightly as I rubbed at my eyes. Antonio surged forward to bring me into a hug, but I protested right away. "No! Wait! We can hug and make out in like thirty seconds, damn it! Let me at least give you my present first! And of course, I liked it you dumbass! These are happy tears, I'll scream it if I have to!"

Antonio whined, but did as I said.

I un-fisted my right palm, revealing the golden key I had been holding this whole time.

"Here," I said, handing it to him.

Antonio palmed the key, inspecting it with furrowed brows. "Thanks, but don't I already have the key to your apartment."

"No silly," I repeated in teasing. "This is the key to the lake house my family vacations at. I want to bring you with me this summer."

"So, what you're saying is that you're taking me to Italy?" Antonio perked up. Another smile was beginning to poke at his lips.

"Yes."

"Really?"

I scoffed. "Yes, really! And you don't have to worry about paying for anything either, I've got it all covered."

Antonio fist pumped the air. "Oh Dios mio! This makes me so happy! I can't wait to meet your family! It'll be so much fun, and we can bake, cook, and lay out in the sun all day! If that's the case, I also want you to come and stay with my family in New York for some time too! There's so much I want to show you back home!"

"Sounds like a plan." I aimed a flirtatious wink at Antonio, enjoying how I was the reason he was giddy with excitement. "Now you can hug and make out with me."

Antonio and I moved forward. It just so happened that Jowltito sensed the sexual tension in the room, and wanting to join in, he stood up and walked between us.

Still, I reached over Jowltito's happily wagging butt to cup Antonio's face. "I don't care if you don't have a lot of money. Sooner or later, I'll have to move out too, and I'd rather not rely on my Nonno's money. Writers don't make all that much, so if we struggle, we'll struggle together. I know there's still another two years before I graduate, but I really do see myself moving out with you some day. No one's ever stuck around this long with me. I have yet to grow bored with you; you're always making me laugh, and I feel like I can be myself with you. More than that, I'm just so fucking thankful to have someone finally understand me. So thank you, bastard. Thank you for sticking around. Oh, and for that kickass present too, I'll treasure that plant and guard it with my entire fucking life force."

"Of course," Antonio smiled, leaning into my touch. "It was pretty obvious to me from the start that you weren't as mean as you led others to believe. I saw a lonely boy who just wanted someone to talk to. That's what I love so much about us. You're my best friend. You're smart, and you always bring a smile to my face. I want to be around you as much as possible, and no, don't give me that look. You know full well that you enjoy me 'stalking' you just as much as I do. I'm giving you company, so you can take that foul mouth of yours and kiss me until I can't breathe."

"I'm trying to do that right now, but a certain someone is getting in the way," I sighed.

Each time Antonio and I went in for a kiss, Jowltito intervened, cheerfully licking our cheeks instead.

Strangely, after the fifth time of failing to kiss Antonio, something by the window caused Jowltito to run towards it and start barking madly.

Shrugging, I bent over to capture Antonio's lips, frowning slightly when I felt his stubble rub against my chin.

"I love you," Antonio murmured.

"Merry fucking Christmas, bastard."

Translation: I love you too.

…

Feliciano's POV:

Lovi wasn't answering his phone, and since it was Christmas morning, Luddy and I didn't want to intrude. Well, at least not openly…

My next best idea to test if the waters were clear enough to enter the apartment was to go on the rooftop adjacent to our dorm building – I didn't want to walk in on anything. If I did, Lovi would probably kill me. I needed to live because I wanted to top Luddy. One day…

I could see my and Lovi's apartment from here (the curtain over the living room window was strangely and conveniently left open?), and by the looks of it, he and Antonio were having a super cute moment! Ah! It just made me so happy! I wish that Liza were here to enjoy this moment with me! Oh, si, si. She was probably busy making lots of love with Roderich…

Anyways! Luddy had dressed me in an obsessive amount of scarves, mitts, and extra sweaters. He didn't want me to get frostbite. It was funny because his clothing practically swallowed me. I took one look at myself in the mirror before we had left his apartment and told him that I looked like a toasty marshmallow; he agreed and even smiled a little. I really like it when he smiles. His eyes become even prettier when they're soft with affection, kind of like how they are when he looks at me.

"Schatz," Ludwig sighed, grabbing me by the shoulders so that I faced him. The entire lower half of his face was covered in a red scarf. He kind of looked like a ninja, a sexy ninja. "What did I say about zipping up your coat all the way?" he muttered.

I gave Luddy a helpless look, a slight pout of my face. He sighed and began fixing my coat. Heh. I had no problems with zipping up my coat or tying my shoelaces. I just really liked it when Luddy did these things for me.

"There," Luddy said in a definitive tone. He sounded so assertive. It turned me on, a lot.

I went back to shamelessly watching my fratello and Tonio have their special moment. Luddy wanted to go home and prepare food for the dinner we were hosting tonight, but I wanted to burn this moment forever into my fanboy noodle brain – that's what fratello calls me when he's angry. He's angry all the time; I don't know why.

Luddy was getting antsy, though. He had planned to get up at six this morning. Ha! As if I would ever let him stop cuddling me. It was our anniversary too! I wanted this day to be special, not full of boring work.

"Oh no!" I exclaimed.

Antonio and Lovi were trying to kiss each other, but Jowltito was getting in the way.

Luddy sighed, reaching into his coat pocket to pull out a dog whistle. He blew into it. By the grace of God or another convenient Christmas plot miracle, Lovi must have left our living room window open by just a crack. He texted me that they had been baking this morning…

Hearing the whistle, Jowltito scrambled towards the sight of the sound, stopping to bark at the window. He was so cute. He looked almost exactly like Winston, who was back at Luddy's apartment sound asleep in the bundle of blankets I had wrapped him in.

Tonio and Lovi were finally able to have their kiss. It was adorably sweet.

"All right, you've had your fun," Luddy chided, grabbing my hand. "Let's give them some privacy, ja? We'll see them later."

I bent up on my tippy toes to kiss Luddy's cheek. "Okay," I smiled.

For some reason, Luddy opposed the idea of us skipping back to his apartment.

…

To be continued...