Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

A/n1: Well, guess what comes up in this chapter: some smut! Yes! Yes indeed! It's pretty lighthearted, though, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.^^

A/n2: When I was young, I loved coloring books. I always gave the pictures the most complicated colors, because I didn't want to color anything predictable. Most of my coloring books show dark-skinned kids with red hair or pale-skinned kids with green hair. XDDDDDDD Also, I thought up a background story for each and every kid and I even made them friends, enemies, siblings or lovers to one another. Man, I enjoyed the hell out of those books. ^^

A/n3: I also had a lot of cuddle pets! At least one hundred! They all had a name, a leader and a personality. Oh, and they went on bloody wars to fight my brother's cuddle pets. Of course, my army and I always won. Mom said she thought I was a bit "different" from most kids because of that.
'Most girls play mommy-daddy games with their toys – but you went on killer sprees with yours,' she once told me. 'I didn't mind – but I did think it was a bit creepy.'
Mom never understood the brave crusades my cuddle pets and I made in order to free the world. Sob...

~~ And Three Makes Five ~~

Chapter 29:

Accept the children the way we accept trees – with gratitude, because they are a blessing – but do not have expectations or desires.
Isabel Allende
(Chilean writer)

'Of course,' I carried on with the story about King Midas, 'the king ended his hug when he heard the soft "ploof" after embracing Gregory. He took a few steps back – he focused his eyes on the young man in front of him – and he was mesmerized: his dear son had never looked more beautiful and important to him!'

'Cause he's gold now!' Luisa pointed out very unnecessarily.

'I wanna be gold, too!' Alejo complained.

'You can't become golden just like that,' I said, correcting their wrong wording at the same time, 'you need to have a crazy father that can change everything he touches into gold. And those apparently are rare these days, so I'm sorry.'

'I wanna be a rose man,' Matteo all of a sudden confessed.

'A… a rose man?'

'Yea!'

'As in… a man, dressed up like a rose?'

'Uh-huh!'

I stared at my bespectacled son, not really knowing how to respond to that.

'That's nice, kid,' I finally said, 'I'll get you a nice costume of a rose when it's Carnival again, alright?'

'Yaaaaa!' Matteo grinned broadly.

Antonio caught my attention by making creepy "psssst!" sounds, so I looked up at him, slightly freaked out.

'Sweetie, we're almost home. Try to end the story before we're there, alright?'

'I'll do my best – don't fucking rush me!' I huffed.

So I cleared my throat once again and went on telling.

'Now, King Midas was stunned! His son! His good-for-nothing-son! He now was actually worth something! Why, Gregory had now all of a sudden turned into a goddamn collector's item!

"Maybe," the king evilly thought, "I should touch the queen as well, and some of my servants. And my mother. I could make an entire Midas' Family Collection – the Limited Golden Edition!"

But then he realized a collection like that would never be complete, since he would need to change into gold himself as well, and even though he loved gold, he didn't love it that much.

And upon realizing that, he suddenly wanted to stop all of this. He wanted his son back and he wanted to eat things again, so there was only one thing he could do: run outside and scream to the heavens for the weird little elf man.

So that's what he did:

"Mr. Elf! Mr. Elf, please come back to me! You were right! I don't like this wish anymore! I can't eat anything I want anymore! Also, I need to change myself in a collector's item if I want to make the Midas' Family Collection – the Limited Golden Edition, and I can't do that! So please! Change everything back!"

"Alright," a small, squeaky voice out of nowhere instantly said – and the king let out a very girly scream when the elf appeared right next to him.

"EEEEEK!"

"Actually, my name's Fladadadadadadadadan. But you can call me EEEEEK if you want to," the elf said.

"Mr. Elf!" the king tried to regain his breath. "Please help me! Make everything better! Make everything like it was before – I have learned my lesson, I promise you!"

The little green man smirked. "That's good to hear, Sire. So for this time, I'll grant you another wish. BUT! There is a catch."

"I knew I should have read the terms and conditions. Damn those puny words!" King Midas sighed.

"I'll make your castle and your son normal again, but you'll get donkey ears in return," the elf said.

"What kind of fucked up shit is that," the king shuddered. "Have you been tripping?"

The elf just smiled. "That's what you get for being a total douchebag, King Midas. Are you ready?"

"I guess," King Midas grumbled.

And so, the elf with the ridiculous name and punishments made everything on the king's castle property normal again. The grass became green again, the fountain started spouting water and the golden hamburgers became normal, carton-box-tasting hamburgers. Also, Gregory turned into a regular emo teen again, and his wardrobe also was back to black.

As for King Midas, he promised Fladadadadadadadadan to be more content with the things he had in the future. He'd also spend more money to the kingdom, and less to his own needs. On a side note, he decided to grow his hair out – nobody, except for his family, knew why that was.

The king managed to rule his reign very happily – until he eventually made the weighty conclusion it was more fun to eat and do nothing than to be a king and do nothing, and he was followed up by his smart, but depressing son Gregory.

Not a single soul ever came to find out the truth about King Midas' ears… but if you're standing in a field of rye, and it's very windy outside, you can hear the rye sing:

"King Midas has donkey ears! King Midas has donkey ears!"

The end.'

\0o0/

When we got home – yes, I indeed very conveniently skipped the rest of the trip back home since nothing much noteworthy happened for the rest of the ride anyway – the kids instantly pounced on their coloring books and crayons in the living room. It had started to rain, so they really didn't have any other options except for playing inside the House.

Since we had nothing better to do, Antonio and I decided to join them. It really was a disgustingly cute sight to see: Matteo and Antonio coloring the pictures in the coloring books with their tongues sticking out of their mouth a little bit while Alejo brutally stabbed his coloring book with a pencil. Luisa literally oozed boredom as she colored a picture of a princess and as for me, well, I was staring at the last coloring book left, wondering what to do.

You see, I always thought coloring books were for kids and complete morons. And Antonio, because he loved them as well (and since I loved him, he could color all the books in the world he wanted to, for all I cared). But I heavily believed all other adults shouldn't play with coloring books. If you wanted to color things, then draw something yourself, first! Don't fill in some dumb pictures! Where's the motherfucking imagination in that!

'There's lots of imagination in that,' Antonio calmly reasoned when I said that to him.

'Prove it,' I commanded, folding my arms.

'Well,' he started, 'first of all, coloring books gives you the freedom to fill in the picture any way you want to. You want to give the cartoony kids a dark skin? You give them a dark skin. You want that boy's cap to be red? You make it red! You have so much freedom, it's like you're a god or something!'

I narrowed my eyes and slapped a hand on my picture book – on a page that had a colored picture and a black-white clone of the same picture on the other page.

'Then explain this, Mr. God.'

'Aww,' Antonio waved with his hands, making him look even more homosexual than he already did, 'it's not like kids actually try to copy that colored picture!'

I now gestured to Luisa, who was focused on making the princess' dress just as pink as the picture.

'You were saying?' I provocatively said.

Antonio sighed. 'Lovi, what does it even matter? Look, Luisa has a lot of fun, coloring her pictures like that. And Matteo has a great time filling his pictures in with different kinds of colors! And Alejo has a great time, murderously ripping apart his coloring book with his pens and crayons.'

I looked at Alejo's maniacal grin and shuddered. 'Alejo, stop that – you're freaking me out. Also, don't completely destroy your coloring book, I'm not getting you a new one!'

'Kill!' Alejo happily cheered, squishing a reckless fly that had dared to sit itself on his slaughtered coloring book.

'Are you listening to me, you little snotface!' I nagged.

'So what I am trying to say is… we're all having a lot of fun with the coloring books in our innocent own ways!' Antonio ended his speech, which had apparently turned him completely deaf and blind. 'You shouldn't think too much of it!'

'Fine,' I moped, giving up on making Alejo act somewhat less freaky, 'but I'm not coloring in anything, dammit. I guess I'll go prepare us something for dinner.'

'Are you going to cook for us?' Antonio said, sounding surprised and amazed. Even the kids looked up in complete bewilderment for a second.

'W-what!' I stammered at all those astonished faces. 'I can cook! I can cook the hell out of that… kitchen! You'll see, dammit! I'll make you something so damn tasty, your taste buds will scream for more!'

Antonio laughed. 'How nice! What are you going to make?'

'Noodles,' I abruptly said. 'Noodles with chicken, vegetables and curry. It'll be fucking delicious.'

'It does sound great,' Antonio nodded.

'That's because it is great,' I said.

Then I turned around and went to the kitchen, rolling up my sleeves and trying to control my sweating.

Oh god, I couldn't even remember the last time I cooked me and Antonio a meal, let alone the last time I cooked a meal for me, Antonio and a bunch of messy kids.

Well.

For now, let's just hope I won't set the House on fire.

\0o0/

As soon as I was busy cooking and studying the back of a box of noodles – you should always follow the basic cooking instructions as closely as you could if you wanted to make something edible – I discovered I actually had missed it.

When I still lived in Italy, Feliciano and I had taken turns in cooking. He would cook us dinner on specific days, and so would I. Of course, the last few months I had been in Italy with Feliciano as well, but I hadn't felt like cooking, indirectly forcing Feliciano to make us dinner each and every day all by himself. He didn't have to, I told him – but he said he really, really liked cooking, and cooking would distract him from the pain of missing "Luddy, veeeee…".

So I hadn't cooked in months, really.

And yet, now that I was busy sorting out all the ingredients and stuff, I found myself enjoying it.

Washing my hands, preparing the chicken with all kinds of spices, making sure the meat would taste good, making water boil, tossing salt into the water, looking for the noodles – I swear, a package of noodles looks like a pair of hand-knitted mittens – and making a nice mix of the curry, the vegetables and the chopped pieces of chicken…

Man, I should really make us dinner way more often, because I was fucking good at it, or so I rediscovered.

I was about to have a small taste of the noodle mix when Antonio walked into the kitchen, asking me if he could help me out.

'You could make the table,' I told him. 'And you can let the kids help you with that. No way in hell my kids are going to be lazy bums that just wait for other people to do things for them, dammit.'

Antonio chuckled and curiously glanced at all the pots and pans on the electric (fancy, huh) stove I was standing in front of.

'Oh, it already smells really good, Lovi!'

'Good point,' I said and abruptly put on our extractor hood. 'I don't want our rooms to smell like curry chicken for the rest of the week, dammit.'

I had thought Antonio would go and tell the kids to help him out or something now, but he kept on looking at me, until I had enough of it and turned to him, waving my wooden spoon around like a deadly weapon.

'The fuck are you still doing here? Go prepare the table already!'

Antonio stared at me and flushed.

'You look so very cute in that large apron.'

'You think?' I blinked and looked down to study my indeed very large, long apron. It was just a plain, red apron, the most normal one Antonio owned, but since he had always been fascinated by dresses and things that look like dresses, it wasn't too weird he thought I looked cute in this.

'Well… thanks, I guess,' I said. 'But seriously, go prepare the table now.'

'Errr, but, well…' Antonio fiddled with his hands and shirt a bit, '…I was wondering, Lovi… could I have a taste?'

'Why?' I frowned. 'Scared you might not like my fantastic dish?'

'Oh no, no no! I like chicken and curry! That's why I'd like to taste it! If that's okay with you, of course,' Antonio explained.

I shrugged. 'Well, okay then. I didn't taste it yet, but I suppose you're a decent foodlover as well. Come on over.'

Antonio grinned widely and instantly, and very unnecessarily, sneaked behind me. He pressed his big, warm body against my own in a way that made me spontaneously gasp and drop my wooden spoon, right into the pan with dark yellowish noodle mix.

Of course, this caused the sauce to splatter in protest and I cursed heavily when my lower arm was covered with yellow splashes of mushy noodle mix. Aw man!

Still using very colorful profanities, I turned around to face Antonio. 'You stupid dope, look what you have done, dammit!'

I aggressively showed him my arm, that thankfully wasn't scorned or something because the sauce hadn't been boiling yet.

'Oh, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!' Antonio, who looked like he was fearing the worst, stammered, and observed my arm. 'Does… does it hurt? Shouldn't you cool it?'

I scowled for a few more seconds at him, but dammit, I just couldn't stay mad at that fucking puppy face of him. So I eventually just sighed and shook my head, absentmindedly licking a bit sauce from my arm.

'Naaah, it wasn't hot yet, so it's fine. Oh, and it tastes good, by the way. But man, you startled me! Don't do that again, you bastard, or I'll smack your face with that pan! You…'

I stopped talking when I noticed Antonio was staring very intensively at my arm. He was staring at it with a look in his eyes that made me want to…

…see what would happen if I…

…did something.

'You…' I started, my voice all weird and low, '…you said you wanted a taste, right?'

'Yes,' Antonio said, his voice just as weird and low.

I swallowed and raised my arm at him. 'Well… go… go on right ahead, t-then.'

Instead of giving me an odd look like "what are you talking about", Antonio immediately got the hint, nodded and pulled me closer to him. I felt lightning bolts, sparks and other kinds of electricity shoot up and down my spine as he placed his tongue against my arm's exposed skin and started…

…l-licking.

Oh god.

Oh god.

I can't believe I let him lick my arm just like that. No, I can't believe I had been the one that had suggested he should lick my arm. If the kids suddenly barged in, I couldn't even put the blame on Antonio, dammit!

N-not that I cared about that right now.

Oh no. No, right now, I only cared about that-that soft, wet sensation of Antonio's tongue, slowly, gently lapping up all of the yellow sauce sticking on my arm.

And I shouldn't become turned on because of some lame licking, I really, really shouldn't be thinking about anything perverted when Antonio was doing all of that so damn carefully and tenderly, but my god, it sure was good to feel my cock was actually springing back to life.

Literally.

'F-fuck,' I muttered, squeezing my legs together and feeling kind of dizzy in my head when Antonio suddenly stopped licking and began pressing teasing, nipping kisses on my wrist and hand.

I gazed at him, blushing madly and panting a little bit already, and I only turned redder when his eyes met mine and my fucking god, kill me right now if he wasn't thinking what I was thinking.

'Are you feeling alright?' he innocently said, before casually running his tongue over a few of my trembling fingers without looking away from me.

'I'm feeling way too right,' I hoarsely said. 'Maybe you should stop that.'

Antonio gulped and agreed, quickly letting go of my arm.

But he didn't let go of my hand – he instead grabbed it a lot firmer.

I hissed softly as he pushed me against him again. 'N-no, you ass, stop that! W-what are you even planning to do!'

'I-I really don't know,' Antonio breathed out softly, 'but I think it involves you. A… a lot of you…'

'No!' I nagged, punching his chest with my other, free hand. 'We can't do… whatever you're planning to do! You bastard, stop it! Let go of me! You—'

I was brutally interrupted with a heated kiss – a heated kiss that didn't only feel very good, it also felt really impatient and hopeful.

'N-no,' I mumbled again, pushing Antonio away with a very shaky, very confused hand, 'w-we're in the damn kitchen… y-you can't—'

Antonio growled and cut me off again with another kiss, this one feeling a lot more determined than the last one, and I thought my knees would fucking give in when he slid his tongue inside my mouth and gripped my hand and waist even tighter.

'U-uwbuh…' I incomprehensively blabbered when Antonio finally released my mouth, gasping for air and instinctively grasping his shirt.

'I know we can't,' Antonio whispered hotly, his eyes partly lidded, 'I know, a-alright? But I want you so badly, Lovino… I-I just want you so badly right now… and now that you're actually hard—'

'S-shit, don't fucking say it, asshole…' I groaned, embarrassed.

'I want to make good use of that. And I will – right now.'

Blown away by his kisses or not, I still wanted to know what he meant with that. But he didn't even give me a chance to decently form the right words into the right sentences when he all of a sudden lifted me up and made me wrap my legs around his waist.

'Wha…what…' I stammered while closing my hands around his shoulders.

But Antonio didn't answer me, he just gave me a third, even more passionate kiss before he thrust his hips forwards, making our erections collide harshly.

'Gah-!' I uttered, hastily muffling myself by burying my face into the crook of Antonio's neck.

'Try… try to keep your voice down,' Antonio urgently gasped while he kept on rolling his hips against my groin with a delicious precision. 'You know how much I love your moans, but please… try to keep your voice down this time, my love…'

'I…ah… I can't belie…believe you're doing this,' I managed to mumble, squeezing my legs tightly around his hips.

'N-neither can I!' Antonio laughed, or tried to laugh, because he, too, needed to keep his voice down. He also needed to find his balance, because I just knew he was going to fall over the fucking second his rutting against me had caused him to climax – but thankfully, he found support against a wall.

I mewled softly when Antonio's hands caressed my butt, and I moaned even more when one of his hands slid into my pants.

'Sweatpants,' Antonio shuddered and pressed yet another kiss on my very willing, slightly parted lips, 'god, I love it when you wear sweatpants at times like these…'

'You're not going to… to put your damn fingers into me now, you-you hear?' I suddenly said, since he was moving a bit slower now.

Antonio gave me a blank stare.

Then, he smirked.

'No,' I warned.

Antonio just hummed and I felt one of his fingers circling around my entrance promisingly.

'Goddammit,' I wheezed, trying to struggle, 'd-don't you fucking dare, don't you have any idea how fucking nasty ahhh… oh god… oh go… ah.'

I gripped Antonio's shoulders in a very horny, very steamy embrace as he indeed wiggled a finger inside of me and started to move it. I also kissed him way too eagerly when his mouth found mine again and I think that one sound I made when he pushed another finger into me was awfully loud.

'Okay…' Antonio muttered, his voice so strained I almost felt sorry for the mean, evil, fingerfucking bastard, '…I-I think it's time to end this… brace yourself, sweetie…'

But he didn't even give me time to do just that, because before I could even register the fact he was being louder than me, he sped up his rhythmic pounding against me so fucking rapidly, and he pushed me against the wall so damn roughly, I think I might as well could have reached my orgasm twice– if only he had given me a bit more time.

\0o0/

'Goddammit,' I mumbled, wobbling back to my stove the second Antonio let go of me, 'i-if the dinner's ruined thanks to your… your fucked-up hormones, you're buying us some Chinese food…'

But miraculously enough, the food still looked and tasted good – and it was almost the right temperature now, meaning Antonio's little humping game had lasted long enough for the food to be almost ready.

Let's say, a minute or… five.

Well, that's pretty impressive. I guess.

'You're lucky,' I snorted, wiping my sweaty face with a clean towel as I looked over my shoulder to Antonio – who finally had gotten up from the floor and stood by the sink, having this really content, delighted smile on his face that almost seemed cute.

BUT IT WASN'T.

'I sure got lucky!' he grinned, washing his hands and winking at me at the same time.

'You pervert.' I felt my face blushing again. 'Are you going to set up the table now, or do you want to go for another round?'

Antonio smiled lovingly at me, came towards me and pressed a chase kiss on my – still very hot – cheek.

'Don't test me, Lovi. I might just pounce on you again, ahahaha…'

I could only swallow and look longingly at him, scared of what I'd say if I had decided to say something.

Antonio noticed, turned very, very red as well, and hastily collected some plates.

'I-I'll prepare the table now, Lovi…'

'R-right,' I nodded, forcing myself to snap out of it, 'd-dinner will be ready in… in a few more minutes, I guess…'

'O-okay…'

'Okay…'

'You… you felt really good, by the way…'

'Just… just go already, d-dammit!'

Antonio hysterically nodded his head and tumbled out of the kitchen, leaving me with a feeling that was both satisfying and not satisfying at all.

Dammit.

I really hoped he was going to fuck me silly tonight.

\0o0/

After I had put the food on the table, Antonio and I very discretely disappeared for a few minutes to put on some new pants. Then we went to the dining room to have dinner with the kids.

And having dinner was kind of hard.

Even though the food hadn't failed – which I still considered a goddamn miracle – I still found myself almost unable to eat anything because I still was so embarrassingly horny it wasn't even funny anymore.

It didn't help that Antonio ate his noodles like he ate something else, dammit, and it also didn't help that Alejo, who apparently felt guilty for acting like a brat earlier, wanted to sit on my lap and hand me over his (remains of a) drawing.

NO WAY.

NO. EFFING. WAY.

Alejo made this really sad, really heartbreaking face – I swear, he was even better at it than Matteo and that's saying something – and looked at his drawing with a quivering lower lip.

'B-but I made you a thingy…'

I groaned. 'I know, Alejo… but… b-believe me, you really don't want to sit on my lap right now.'

'Interesting,' Antonio said – and fuck, that asshole was grinning so smugly and handsomely that I'd have ripped his clothes clean off his body within the blink of an eye if there weren't three kids having dinner with us right now.

'I think he spilled noodle-thingies on himself,' Luisa reasoned to Alejo. 'That's why you can't sit on his lap, Allie.'

'Ohhhhhhhh. Okay!'

Alejo instantly smiled again, shrugged and just handed me over the drawing.

'For you, papa!'

I stared at him, then at Luisa – who gave me a confused "what, dammit" face and continued eating – and finally, I took a look of the drawing.

All I could see was a lot of black and red, and something that looked like a kid with his head cut off.

'It's a kitty!' Alejo proudly said.

'Oh god,' I croaked.

'Ohhhh!' Antonio bent forward to catch a glimpse of it as well. 'It's a dead kitty! Isn't it, Allie?'

'Yea! See all the blood?'

'You're so artistic!~'

'Imma kangoroogaroo!' Matteo out of nowhere announced, sticking some noodles to the side of his face.

'Kangaroos don't look like that,' I gracefully accepted this change of subject.

'Meow!' Matteo responded.

'You know what, I don't even have words to describe how fucking weird you are, Matteo.' I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help it and smiled anyway. 'You're a funny kid, though.'

'Ehehehehehe,' Matteo grinned, blushing.

We continued eating, and by the time we had finished the desserts, my erection had been completely killed off thanks to the disturbingly strong daddy-instincts.

So yes, Alejo could, eventually, sit on my lap anyway.

\0o0/

Antonio and I spent the rest of the evening watching the cartoon channel with the kids.

Alejo sat on my lap, Matteo was draped on Antonio's lap – boy couldn't sit decently – and Luisa kind of lounged in between us, her head half-resting against my arm and her legs pushing against Antonio's thighs.

Alejo was the only one that was actually watching the television, all focused on the moving pictures and everything, because Matteo and Antonio had fallen asleep and were snoring loudly, and as for me and Luisa, well…

We did a staring contest that Luisa won three times, and I won it once. You know, the stare-and-don't-laugh kind of staring contest. You wouldn't believe how fucking awesome I felt when I finally succeeded into breaking a smile free on Luisa's serious face.

After my marvelous victory, I finally wondered what the time could be – and it's been a long time I stunned myself like that when I discovered it was almost fucking midnight already.

The kids were three to four years old! That means they needed to go bed early in the evening – not early in the fucking morning! Goddammit, we were the worst fucking parents ever!

So I punched Antonio awake and told him we needed to put the kids to bed before the social services would come by and give us a warning, and then we needed to wait for Alejo's program to end, and then we finally got up from the couch and headed to the kids' bedroom.

'We really need to get some structure in our household, you know that?' Antonio softly said – he was carrying Matteo, who just didn't want to wake up – to me.

I nodded and I also tried to listen to Alejo, who was walking in front of us and constantly turned around, babbling and rambling fanatically about the cartoon he had seen. Luckily, Alejo seemed to just be talking away – he didn't mind if we listened or not – so at one point, I concentrated my gaze on Antonio and smiled.

'Well, we'll have a lot of free time for the following months, so we have enough time to think of a structure.'

'Hmm,' Antonio muttered, 'we're not that good at having a structure ourselves, though…'

'Maybe we should ask a specialist then?'

'If you think I'm going to invite that smoking, Dutch coal into our House again, I really have to disappoint you.'

I chuckled. 'Just kidding, Antonio. We'll think of a way ourselves. We'll be fine.'

'Yeah.' Antonio smiled back at me.

Crap – that fucking handsome son of a goddamn goddess-bitch.

To distract my needy body from Antonio's horribly beautiful smile, I quickly looked down at Luisa, who was walking next to me and had given me the unspeakable honor of holding her hand.

'How are you, baby? Sleepy?'

I had expected her to come up with something like "sleep is for the weak, dammit", but to my amazement, she nodded a bit.

'Yea, I'm sleepy.'

'Glad you can go to bed?'

She hesitated, but then she looked up at me with those dead-serious, green eyes.

'Y'know, if… if you and Papa Toni're too scared to sleep without me, I can… um…'

'You can sleep with us?' I grinned a bit. 'Why, I had no idea you were so damn generous, Luisa!'

Antonio had listened to our dialogue and laughed. 'What a princess! Such a sweet princess!~'

'So yea,' Luisa hastily continued, 'I'll come with you.'

Antonio and I exchanged looks. I could instantly tell Antonio felt a lot more for making brutal love to me all night long than for some coy cuddling with our daughter in between us, and to be honest, so did I.

Don't fucking judge me, dammit, I know I should always consider my kid's need the biggest priority, but I wanted to have sex already, dammit.

But how to tell Luisa that without hurting her? I mean, telling her I rather wanted to get banged by her hot father tonight would raise questions I wanted to avoid being asked for a very, very long time.

'Luisa,' Antonio finally said, clearing his throat, 'Papa Lovi and I would love to have you with us, but, um, we want some daddy time alone, and we—'

'I'll wait by your room – you put Teo and Allie in bed,' Luisa suddenly interrupted him. Then she let go of my hand and ran ahead, stopping in front of our own bedroom.

'This isn't going as planned,' I whispered to Antonio. 'Go tell her to go to her own room!'

'Why must I always do the scolding?' Antonio countered. 'You go tell her to go to her own room!'

'But she'll feel rejected, dammit! And she'll be angry at me! And you know she has issues with bonding and shit!'

'So…' Antonio sighed loudly – loud enough to wake Matteo up, '…so we should let her sleep with us again?'

I wanted to answer that, but then Alejo and Matteo saw Luisa waiting for us in front of our room.

'Is Lulu sleeping with you?' Alejo pouted demonstratively. 'I wanna sleep with you and Papa Toni, too!'

'Me too, me too!' Matteo chirped.

Oh great.