Disclaimer: Hetalia is niet van mij.

(LOL Dutch~)

A/n: It won't be long before I'll end this fic. Yup, looks like Austria's wonderful ball is about to begin!

A/n2: Another long chapter… because you guys are fabulous. Yes, you are. *gives hugs*

This Dance: Plotting and Scheming

Lovino:

It wasn't exactly a big meal me and Antonio had just finished eating, but since we had a stupid fucking ball to go to later that night (which was rumored to have a wonderful buffet), it was more than enough for now.

And God, I just loved good gazpacho. Fucking delicious, especially when that smiling moron was cooking it.

With a pleased and somewhat filled stomach, I started collecting the plates, cutlery, pans, pots and other kinds of cooking utensils, took a deep breath (because it was heavy, dammit) and brought it to the kitchen. I actually managed to carry all of the stuff back to the other room with relative ease and without breaking a sweat, just because I happened to be fucking good at almost everything that had got something to do with food – and yes, carrying lots of dirty dishes back to the kitchen had got something to do with food. So shut up.

I walked into the kitchen and was greeted with the sight of Antonio's back, standing at the kitchen sink. The Spanish nation was rolling up his sleeves as the sink filled itself with hot water and glanced over his shoulder.

Immediately, an enormous grin spread over his face when he saw me waggling around with the pile of kitchen-shit in my arms. But suddenly, realization struck him like a ray of lightning and he stared at me in total shock, squirting too much soap into the sink.

I frowned in dismay and put the plates down on a work unit. 'Hey, bastard! Not too much, dammit!'

'A-ah, sorry!' Antonio quickly stowed the bottle of soap away and slid some of the plates into the water. However, his eyes were still eyeing me astonished.

I clacked my tongue and put my hands on my hips, perhaps a bit too suggestive. 'What the hell is up with that face!'

'Lovi… it's just… you… are actually helping me?' he stammered.

I blushed and puffed my cheeks. 'H-hey, don't give me that! Stupid bastard, I help you lots of times, dammit! Don't make it sound like I never do a fucking thing around the house!'

Antonio stared at me some more and smiled happily, nodding in partial agreement. 'Ah, of course you do!~'

'Watch it.' I narrowed my eyes.

He laughed some more and handed a plate to me, not noticing the foam that dripped on the orange tiles of the kitchen floor. 'Well, convince me then, Lovi! Grab a towel, mi querido!'

I grumbled, but grabbed a towel anyway and hopped onto the work unit next to the kitchen sink.

Stupid manipulating bastard.

XxX

I was drying off a weirdly shaped pot (…the hell?) when I found out my eyes were constantly straying off to Antonio, who was washing the dishes like it was the best fucking thing to do in the whole world. I snorted. Idiot.

But idiot or not, I liked to look at him. Observing the Spaniard like this had a calming effect on my jumpy, quickly irritated nerves and… well, he was just nice to look at, to be honest. I silently hoped he thought the same thing whenever he was looking at me… but yeah, who knows what goes around in that messed-up brain of his.

'So…' I suddenly heard myself mutter to him, '…tonight's the ball, right?'

Antonio looked up at me and grinned. 'Yes! I can't wait – it'll be so much fun!~ Don't you think so?'

'Hm. If you say so.'

I put the pot down and reached for a glass, only to be grabbed by Antonio and pulled down for a kiss. His damp hands moistened my shirt and really, I wanted to struggle, but then I'd… I'd probably drop that glass… so I didn't.

When he finally let go of me, my shirt was ruined and my face was flustered and embarrassed.

Antonio smiled. 'Ahahaha… you're so cute, Lovino…'

'…y-yeah.' I quickly turned away and concentrated on drying the glass.

I still had to get used to the idea it was perfectly normal for me to just shut up and accept all of the random affection-attacks of that passionate bastard. I mean, he had always assaulted me with his glomps of death, he did that for years, but now, I wasn't supposed to cuss him out for that. Now I was supposed to like it. A-and I did like it, I liked it very much, but… damn, it was a bitch getting used to that feeling of being adored, dammit.

That reminded me. After this night, our 'secret' relationship wouldn't be so secret anymore. We were going to tell everybody at Austria's ball that Antonio and I and had become…

…become…

…l-lovers. Y-yeah…

And then the whole of Europe would know… and soon after that, America and the Asian nations would find out about us, too. Fuck, the very idea creeped me out. But telling everybody was unavoidable, really – they'd notice sooner or later anyway, especially if your lover is an enthusiastic and stupid and loud idiot like Antonio. He'd never manage to keep it a secret for much longer… so we might as well just tell the other morons.

XxX

'Um, Lovi?'

We were almost finished doing the dishes when Antonio gave me one of his most dazzling smiles while handing over another one of his white plates to me.

T-that smile. God. It was enough to make me feel fuzzy and weird and shit like that inside and I even almost fell off the fucking work unit because of that fucker's damn smile, but I tried to stay cool and nodded grumpily at him, ignoring my increasing blush and grabbing the plate he was holding in front of me.

'W-what, you bastard…'

'…you know I love you, right?' he asked.

I started to rub the plate softly and nodded again, too embarrassed to look at him directly. 'Y-yes, I know.'

He laughed cheerfully. 'Ah, that's good to hear… and you love me, too, right Lovi?'

'…hm-hm.' My cheeks were burning like mad now and I rubbed the plate fanatically, like my fucking life depended on drying the stupid material as good as possible, because that was all I could do to prevent myself from looking up to see the no-doubt blissful expression on his face. W-why was he asking things like that, dammit… oh God, was he planning to fucking jump me in the kitchen again? T-that horny bastard…

'..what are you scheming, you bastard?' I carefully asked, already moving away from him a bit.

He grinned stupidly, maybe even panicky, without showing any of the usual 'let's-get-rid-of-those-pants-now-shall-we?~' –signs. No no, he looked more like a kid that had done something so very bad, so very evil, that it was hoping his mommy wouldn't find out about it by acting like an adorable little bitch.

Suspicious, Antonio. Very suspicious.

I sat upright again and scowled. 'Okay, I'll ask it one more time before kicking those annoying teeth out of your fucking mouth: what the fuck are you up to?'

Antonio winced a bit at my words, but kept on smiling like the optimistic fool he was. 'Ah… um… I figured, since we love each other so much and such, you probably wouldn't mind it if I told you I asked Francis and Gilbert to gather at my place before going to Austria's ball! Which is good, because… they can show up any minute, now!~'

WHAT.

My jaw dropped and I stared at the Spaniard in horror, my left eye twitching and my other eye narrowed dangerously.

Oh no, he didn't. He couldn't have meant that. He just… just couldn't have meant that. He was obviously kidding. He knew I hated his friends, he knew I couldn't stand them and he knew I was going to kick his sorry, perfect little ass if he wasn't lying.

And he wasn't.

That fucking bastard.

I managed to stay calm and leant towards Antonio some more, even smiling a bit when I looked at him.

'Oh, really, now? You invited them to gather here?' I asked him friendly, my voice however shaking somewhat unsteadily. Feliciano would scream in terror if he saw me acting like this. Most of the nations I knew would scream in fucking terror if they saw me acting like this.

But not the country of Spain. Oh, no.

Of course, Antonio should have gulped and he should have fled for his damn life, but instead, he sighted in relief (in fucking relief, I tell you) and beamed me another smile.

That idiot.

'Ah? Oh… I'm so glad you don't mind it!' he said, '…for a moment there, I was scared you'd be mad at me for inviting them! Ahahahaha!~'

The smile on my face started to hurt. And twist. And turn upside down. 'Mad at you? You tell the nations I absolutely loathe the most they can drop by tonight, without my say-so, and you think I'd be… mad at you because of that?'

That was probably the moment Antonio realized there was something wrong with the way I said that, because his stupid smile suddenly faded and his face began to turn as white as a sheet, especially when I slowly raised the hand which still held on to the plate.

'L-Lovi?' he stammered carefully, holding up his hands in defense, '…you're—'

I would never know how he was going to end that sentence, because I smashed the plate onto the hard floor of the kitchen, before he could finish it. It crashed down with a satisfying bang and it send white shards flying everywhere, covering the tiles with little pieces of Spanish tableware.

Good!

'You fucking jerk,' I growled afterwards, making a cracking sound with my hands and knuckles, '…you have exactly five seconds to get the hell away from me before I'll break your spine.'

Antonio stared at the mess on his floor for a moment and pouted. 'L-Lovino, I understand you're angry, but really, do you have any idea how expensive that–'

'Make it two seconds.'

The message got through and he ran away.

Xxx

Just an hour later, Antonio's House was being fucking raided by France, Prussia and France's current sextoy Canada.

They didn't even bother knocking or ringing the bell or something – hell no, they just waltzed in like they always did when they were visiting Antonio. Oh, and don't you think they came in through the front door like sane people do – no, that was just far too normal and obvious for them.

So, as a refreshing alternative on entering houses, they decided to come in through the backdoor of one of Antonio's friggin' confusing corridors of doom and managed to scare the crap out of me by sneaking up on me while I was busy doing pretty ordinary things, like shouting and throwing tomatoes at the door Antonio was hiding behind.

Naturally, I 'chigii!'-ed a few times when France touched my shoulder and kicked him and Prussia in the face (I didn't kick Canada – Canada had got pretty much nothing to do with it) before stomping off to a safer place, ignoring the whining pleads of Antonio as I did.

I (foolishly) thought it couldn't get much worse than this, when the doorbell rang a few minutes later. I answered it and found myself standing face to face with Feliciano, Japan and the fucking potato-bastard as I opened the door.

'What the hell?' I greeted them, left eye twitching again.

Feliciano grinned happily. 'Veeee… Hi, big brother! Ludwig, Kiku and I thought it would be nice to pick you and big brother Spain up before heading for Austria's place!~ Right, Ludwig?'

He had to jab the (pale-faced) German in the ribs with his elbow a few times before getting a sorrowful 'Yes' in return. And Japan also looked like he really didn't want to be here.

So really, it was only natural I smacked the door in their faces and went to hide somewhere.

Oh, and to internally blame Antonio for everything that was happening to me.

Fucking Spanish bastard. I'd hate him if I didn't love him, dammit.

Of course, mere, massive doors, partly made out of friggin' steel, weren't enough to keep Feliciano and company from staying the hell out of the Spaniard's place. So I when I had finished hiding and dressing myself properly (it turned out to be pretty convenient to hide in a closet), I wasn't surprised one bit when I saw the three losers running around the hallway anyway.

XxX

When I was heading to Antonio's bedroom to ask him if he was ready to go, I noticed some unusual and disturbing sights in the process of walking around the Spanish house – sights that only made me want to leave the building even faster.

France was dancing around naked in the living room for some reason and tried to entice Canada to have 'deliciously hot sex' with him on the carpet.

Canada refused and was wondering out loud why the hell he had bothered coming along.

Prussia, who turned out to be completely drunk, was randomly hanging over an equally random couch in another room and muttered things about Austria and Hungary and about what evil beings the both of them were.

Germany was in the same room, trying to wake his brother up from his drunken unconsciousness. But he failed, because he's a bastard.

Feliciano was somewhere else, helping a nude Japan to find his tuxedo, since France had stripped the Japanese sissy when nobody was looking and put it away somewhere suspicious – and I really didn't want to know where he had put it away.

Looking at all of this made me feel like I was the only sane person in this house and that freaked me out even more.

I unknowingly sped up my pace and in the end, I practically raced towards Antonio's room.

XxX

Antonio was just fixing his tie in front of a mirror when I stormed into the room, panting like I had just run a friggin' marathon or something.

He looked up in surprise and smiled carefully when our eyes met – apparently, he was thinking I was still mad at him. I noticed he hadn't put on the coat of his tux yet – only the black pants, white blouse and black tie.

…God. I swallowed heavily as I closed the door. He - he looked good. Why did he always have to look so damn good, dammit!

'A-ah… hello, Lovino!' Antonio said, fumbling his tie clumsily, '…um… so, how are things going, downstairs?'

'Horrible. The place is a dump, thanks to your so-called friends and the Axis Idiots.' I said, frowning uneasily. Seeing Antonio's fat, fake smile made me extremely aware of the fact that my somewhat bad behavior earlier that evening had probably caused him to smile like that.

Antonio's face fell. 'Wow. That bad, huh? Ah… well, that's a bummer…'

'Well, what had you expect? They're crazy!' I huffed.

'Hm? Oh, actually, I had expected to go to Austria's ball together with you and Francis and Gilbert without that much of a hassle… but it seems I was wrong about that.' Antonio laughed weakly, '…sorry for putting you up with this, Lovi. I shouldn't have invited them.'

He sighed and fiddled his tie some more. The disheartened expression on his face made me feel like a huge asshole. Shit, now he was getting depressed – partially… no, mostly because of me. Damn. I had to do something. Something… nice, I guess. Yes, something that would lighten his mood.

But what? What could I do? I wasn't really experienced in doing nice things… I looked at Antonio for a moment, watching his ridiculous struggle with his tie.

At last I got fed up with it and groaned. 'My God, you're hopeless. Come here.'

I walked towards him, grabbed his hips and made him turn my way.

'Whoa – Lovi?' He gave me a surprised look, but didn't struggle or protest.

'S-shut up, dammit.'

I reached for the tie and snatched it out of his hands and away from his neck. Subsequently, I flattened it and carefully wrapped it back around his neck again, pulling the tie a bit so it would stay put as I tried to fix the long, black piece of garment as good as I could.

I knew Antonio was staring at me as I tied his stupid tie. I also knew he was starting to brighten up again when I heard a light chuckle.

'…ah, I'm not very good at stuff like this…'

I snorted. 'I know you aren't. What were you planning to do with your tie, make a fucking balloon-animal out of it? Tsk.'

He smiled some more and placed a warm hand over my cheek, his fingers stroking it softly. 'Naah, I was half-expecting you to fix it for me, Lovi. I'm glad I was right about that.'

W-what the hell, had he plotted this or something? I felt my face was starting to burn again, like it always fucking did whenever I was having some weird conversation with that bastard, and I refused to look up at him.

'Damn… I-I never knew you could be such a scheming asshole, Spain.'

'And I never expected you to be so gullible, Lovi.'

'Shut the hell up!' I blushed and yanked his tie forcefully, '…y-you better not have any other stupid ideas up your sleeve, Spain! I'll fucking kill you if you make a fool out of me at Austria's ball!'

He laughed (a bit strangled, but still) and shook his head, bringing his other hand up to my other cheek to cup my face and pull it closer to his own. 'Aw, don't you worry, Lovi – I'll behave myself. I'll be the kind of man you can be proud of, okay?~'

'J-just be yourself, dammit…' I grumbled and grabbed his wrists, not sure what to do with them except for just holding on to them, '…y-you don't have to be anyone other than that.'

Antonio blinked a few times and his face heated up, nodding enthusiastically. 'O-okay, Lovi! I'll just do that!'

'…and stay away from jerks like the Netherlands and England, will you?' I continued, voice almost inaudible.

He didn't answer right away. He just carefully pulled me even closer and kissed me affectionately, still smiling and holding my red-hot face into his hands when he pulled away.

'Ah, I thought I had already told you not to worry about that, my love, mi amor… I'll be fine, okay? I'll be just fine. Trust me on this one.'

'Y-you better be fine, bastard, if you know what's good for you.' I scowled, but nodded anyway. My knees felt like fucking rubber every friggin' time he kissed me like that, d-dammit…

'Well!' Antonio suddenly let go of me and glanced at the clock on his nightstand, '…if we don't want to get late or receive an annoyed phone call from Austria, we better get going soon. What do you say, hm? Shall we?~'

'Fine…' I folded my arms, quickly restoring my original, pissed-off composure now that he wasn't holding me anymore, '…but you'll have to tell those bastards downstairs to hurry the fuck up, first.'

He smiled cheerfully and pulled his fucking big, intimidating, still slightly bloodstained war axe from under his bed.

'Oh, that can't be so hard now, can it?~'

I chose to believe him.