Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

A/n1: To all the people that are have responded so enthusiastically to my return: you are kind and wonderful and sparkly and I will cry if you keep telling me such fantastic things, so here's a digital hug. *tearfully embraces her PC* Huzzah!

A/n2: Okay, so this time, I've chosen to use quotations of famous people about children and the like as chapter names. Yaaaay!~
Did I do a lot of research about whether it's really said by the famous persons? No – and I really hope you don't mind that too much. I'm just using it for fun, after all…

A/n2: Because I want to avoid writing chapters that are insanely long (again), I'm making my chapters a bit shorter. Not because I want to be mean! It's just that I've learned that writing huge chapters isn't really good for your social life, or mental stability or whatever.
So go ahead and read – in the meantime, I'll hide somewhere safe, because… well, you'll notice. *flees*

~~ And Three Makes Five ~~

Chapter 2:

People who get nostalgic about childhood were obviously never children.
Bill Watterson
(American artist and comic author)

Well, both me and Feliciano were fucking ecstatic when we heard that we were able to get together with our husbands again, of course – and we immediately called both Antonio and Germany to tell them the good news.

…just to make this very clear: I called Antonio and Feliciano called Germany, because no way in hell I'd ever call that blonde creep, dammit, and if Feliciano had the fucking guts to inform Antonio before I did, I'd break his legs. Like… SNAP-TITS.

…

It's a word alright. I just wrote it in the dictionary myself. It means "breaking Feliciano's legs" and "go fucking fuck yourself if you don't like my fucking word".

Anyway, I told Feliciano that I'd go snap-tits on his legs if he dared to call Antonio – and he happily said he'd break mine as well if I had the guts to inform Germany before him, so don't feel sorry for that little bastard, he was just as fucking mental and short-on-love as I was right now.

So naturally, he instantly broke down crying all emotional and shit when he called Germany to tell him the good news – and so did Antonio, that wussy wreck, when I called him.

'Oh god, finally! Finally, finally, finally! My Lovi's coming home… I-I'm so happy… My boss already told me he would tell me something good after today's meeting – you must have beat him to it! Oh! Lovi, I'm… I love you! I love you so much, sweetie!~'

I had sniveled a bit as well, but not as much as Antonio, of course.

'I-I-I love you t-too, dammit…'

See? I was so controlled and manly, I could cry. But I didn't.

'Please… please come home right after your last meeting, okay?'

'I-I was intending to.'

'I missed you.'

'I-I missed you too…'

'It'll be so great to be around you again…'

'Y-yeah…'

'Although I'll miss the phone-sex.'

I should have seen that one coming.

I temporary snapped out of it and groaned in annoyance (and perhaps a bit in embarrassment as well).

'Lovi?' Antonio said upon hearing my irritated growling.

'You're a fucking pervert, you know that? Are you really going to miss that?'

'Sweetie, you know what I mean.'

I huffed nevertheless. 'R-real sex with you is better than stupid… stupid phone-sex, dammit.'

'It is.'

'Y-yes.'

'Are you up for it?'

'For what?'

'I-I want to be with you… I want to be intertwined with you, Lovino. I want… I want to hold and kiss and embrace you and make love to you whole day long and never let our stupid bosses take you away from me again.'

I clenched the phone. 'A-Antonio…'

'It's just… I want to do all these… th-these things with you again. Is that okay with you, my love?'

'F-fuck, y-you know you can do with me whatever the hell you want to do with me, Antonio, I…'

I noticed a few men and women standing at the lobby, staring at me with eyes and mouth wide open.

Well crap.

'…a-and I'd like to have some cheese on top of that, yes, and a lot of tomato sauce, too!' I hastily continued.

Antonio laughed softly. 'People are looking at me kind of funny as well, Lovino!~ But that's okay. I don't care. I just want you to be here with me. That's no crime.'

'Sexing me up in public is!' I hissed. 'I'm sure it is!'

'Like you should talk.'

'S-shut up.'

'I love you, Lovino.'

'Yeah…'

I gulped and lowered my head.

'I-I love you too, Antonio.'

\0o0/

After this ridiculously emotional phone conversation, Feliciano and I quickly prepared ourselves to get the shitting hell out of Italy faster than a hungry Italian soldier would run out of a dangerous area filled with creepy English bastards that wanted to blow his head off with nasty scone-bombs, which naturally is crazily fast.

My brother and I told each other goodbye, stay well, whatever, I'll probably see you tomorrow at the meeting anyway, get off my fucking back, Feliciano, you assface, and then we hopped into the cabs that had promised us to take us to our lovers and left.

Well okay, not the cabs had promised us that, but the drivers. Or at least the man the drivers were working for – our boss.

That was very nice of him. Hell, I already liked my new boss a lot more than the old one, if only for the fact he seemed to care a lot more about me and my brother's well-being than the old one.

But anyway, Feliciano's car drove north, in the direction of Germany, of course, while my own cab driver headed for a direction somewhere southwest of South Italy.

Spain.

He was heading for Spain.

Yes.

And it really wasn't that bad either, the entire trip to Spain. The car was air-conditioned, the driver didn't talk too much and I had all the time and space to mentally prepare myself for meeting Antonio again, after all these months…

…but I didn't really do that a lot, since I was feeling way too pooped out to focus on everything that was going to happen after I had arrived in Spain, so I just sat a bit and stared out of the window, sometimes nodding off and then violently waking up all of a sudden again, you know the drill…

And then we suddenly were in Spain!

We… we suddenly were in Spain.

I was almost home. And I hadn't even noticed it!

Of course, the taxi driver was the one to blame. Stupid cocky nameless bastard loved his goddamn car and its wellbeing a bit too much to my liking. But no, no no, Lovino, you have to stay realistic. And nice. I'm sure he had his reasons.

…

He probably got that car to compromise for something that wasn't just as big. Ohhh, burn!

…

Damn. The sooner I got to meet Antonio, the better. The world would sigh in relief.

\0o0/

You know, when the cab driver waltzed his car over the still very much flattened fence of Antonio's House, I instantly felt like bawling and telling the infamous story about how and why that fence got so damn flat, like some old, sentimental geezer.

But, as you no doubt expected from a manly man as yours truly, I didn't – I just swallowed my annoying womanly tendency to cry, got out of the car, said an almost mechanical goodbye and thank-you to the asshole driver and, hell, I even watched him flailing around his car over the fence for a little while, until he was able to get away.

Then I immediately went inside the House.

I really didn't have many thoughts right then – I just wanted to go inside that gorgeous House, find its gorgeous owner (wait, no, its original owner apparently wasn't Antonio but some fat and ugly Spanish aristocrat) I mean resident, and then…

Well, I don't know what was going to happen then. I hadn't planned anything, to be honest. I didn't think of anything clever or touching to say.

But I did bring a fresh new tube of lubricant with me.

…

Don't fucking judge me, dammit. That stuff expires, too.

Anyway…

As I walked into the hallway, I momentarily got overcome by feelings of melancholy. As if I had walked into a wonderful world I only knew from my dreams, which really isn't that weird once you realize I haven't been home for fucking months. I mean, shit, in my fantasies, whenever I was feeling lonely in Italy, I always thought of this House and all its silly rooms, windows, colors and the wonderful warmth everything about the House was emitting.

It didn't reduce my loneliness that much, but it prevented me from forgetting the place I felt so comfortable at. I was really scared that would happen. That I'd forget everything that happened between me and Antonio, that I wouldn't know how to act around him anymore.

It was a terrifying thing to think about, really.

Now that I was actually walking around me and Antonio's House again, I could still feel my own anxiety, my nervousness.

Because – another fear of mine – what if I saw Antonio and my heart didn't jump up in joy? What if I had secretly been falling out of love with him, after months of not-seeing him? What if he had gotten fat and ugly?

…

Oh fuck, yes, what if he had gotten fat and ugly? No, wait, plot twist – what if he actually was that goddamn Spanish aristocrat that owned this place? What if he always had been that chubby bastard and I found out now and he was going to motherfucking kill me with a fork oh my god.

…

That's right, the absence of the one you love could make you pretty damn paranoid.

Nice plot for a lame horror story though.

Then, all of a sudden, right in-between my panicky and really stupid thoughts, I heard the sound of somebody humming.

A gentle, friendly sound.

My mind and its weird, tiresome antics blocked right on the spot, just like my feet did. The feeling that suddenly struck me after hearing that sound, the feeling that suddenly attacked and overwhelmed me…

It was so familiar.

It was so delightfully and reassuringly familiar, it made me cry. Yes, now I cried.

It came from upstairs, I heard, so I went upstairs. My whole body was pretty much moving out of its own, though, because I rather stayed downstairs and washed my weeping eyes or something – I couldn't even fucking see anymore, dammit, I everything was fucking blurry and watery.

Still, I didn't bump against anything. I didn't fall of the stairs, I didn't trip, I didn't even tremble, shiver or shake – I just walked, and I walked in a straight line towards the room I had heard the humming from.

It was the spare bedroom, or so I faintly noticed. It really had to be the spare bedroom, because it was the only door which door was wide open. I approached the room more and more, until my feet once more refused to continue walking, exactly at the moment I saw Antonio making the bed.

It really was some sight to see.

Because it wasn't some sight to see at all.

I mean, he wasn't naked or anything. He didn't look particular sexy or irresistible. He was just… making the bed and sorting out some laundry, I suppose, since there were little piles of towels and clothes on the random chairs inside the room. Furthermore, he looked tired and pale, as if he had been neglecting himself. He also wore old clothes and even had a some sort of beard – and I fucking hated beards.

To be completely honest, Antonio looked like a fucking wreck I wouldn't even pay attention to if he had just been some random man walking down the street. I wouldn't turn my head to him even once.

Still, I felt like my chest would explode from pure happiness any second now.

Finally, I regained control over my body again – so finally, I could let it tremble and shake and shiver to my almost-bursting heart's content. My hands clumsily gripped the side of the closet I was apparently standing next to, just to have something to hold on to, as I watched Antonio's movements and the tired, but also surprisingly happy expression on his face.

Oh.

He smiled.

I hadn't seen that at first glance.

But he really did smile.

I squeezed my lips together tightly and felt there were even more tears rolling down my cheeks now. I could finally see him smile again. I didn't only have to hear his laughing through the phone, all mangled up and fake because of the bad connection and distance and shit, no, I could actually see it. In real life. And it was a fucking genuine one, too.

Fuck, I was never going to stop bawling now.

Since Antonio, for some reason, still hadn't felt my presence, I slowly started to realize I should probably say something. Like 'hi'. Just a simple hi. Two simple letters. I could pull that off, right? Yes, of course I could.

If my goddamn throat had been more cooperative. But it wasn't, and right now, it felt like all the words I wanted to say so badly were stuffing my throat so much that I couldn't even utter a fucking hi.

Instead, I made a weird, high-pitched sound that cats make when they see someone they actually like.

'Mrrrr-oaw.'

…

BELIEVE ME, I WISH I WAS KIDDING, BUT NO. NOOOO.

I purred. I fucking purred. Oh my god.

Luckily enough, Antonio still was too lost in thoughts (now there are some words I'd never thought I'd use in one sentence) to hear my meowing, so I breathily let some puffs of air escape between my lips, relieved.

'Hmm?' Antonio immediately said and looked up.

I stared right back at him, too surprised and shocked and fucking emotional to say anything.

Antonio didn't say anything right away either. He just looked at me, frozen rock solid, like I had pressed a pause-button or something.

But then Antonio slowly stood straight up, letting everything he was busy with fall out of his hands, watching me with big, unbelieving, dull eyes.

'Lovino?'

It was horrible, but I still couldn't spit out any words, so I just nodded and cried and let go of the closet.

Antonio moved away from the bed.

'You're here?'

I nodded again and pressed the palms of my hands into my eye sockets, in a desperate attempt to stop the fucking tears from coming.

Antonio looked at me crying a little bit longer, until he suddenly came towards me faster than I could register, standing still right in front of me. For a moment, I was afraid the shock of me, popping up out of nowhere, had made him lose his ability to smile all my worries away.

But then he smiled.

'You are here! You really are here!'

He smiled, and he smiled, and he laughed, and he laughed some more and he threw his arms around me and pressed my still quivering body against his own so lovingly, I thought I'd fucking dissolve from the joy of it all.

His warmth, his kindness, his arms, his scent and his smile – I had missed them all so much. And now, all of that was with me again. All of Antonio was right in front on me, holding me, squeezing me, loving me.

I wanted to hug him back, so I wrapped my unsteady arms around him as well and clasped his stinky shirt as much as my fingers would allow.

I don't know how long Antonio and I stood there like that, all sniveling and sobbing and laughing and trembling, must have been at least fifteen minutes, but it felt like it still wasn't long enough when he backed off just a little bit and collected my face in his large, warm hands.

'Hi, Lovi.'

'H-h-h-hi,' I eventually managed to blabber, now gripping his wrists, '…h-hi, Antonio.'

He laughed a bit. I saw his cheeks got their original hue back again, just like his eyes were all beautifully green and lively again. And fuck if it didn't make me happier than I had been in a very, very long time.

And it didn't only made me happy. It also made me something else.

'Hey, Antonio?' I started, my fingers losing their tight grip around his wrists in order to make them go up and down his arms questioningly.

He cocked his head to the side and smiled curiously. 'What, Lovi?'

'I don't want to ruin the sentimental mood, but I want you.' I breathed out. 'I want you, really, really badly, right now. Every fucking inch of you. Every damn bit of you. Everything that's you. I want all of it.'

I had expected his gaze to turn a little bit darker, a little bit hornier, but the tender and loving look in his eyes remained exactly the same.

'Well, I want you, too, so that's good.'

I frowned. Firstly, I thought he didn't understand what I was saying. That he thought I meant I wanted him in a cutesy, innocent way. That he thought I meant I just wanted to continue hugging him for the following hours.

So of course I parted my lips to once again tell him – slower and clearer this time – that I wanted him and how much of him I wanted.

But before I could even think of a word to say, his mouth covered mine, and before I could think of how to respond on that, his tongue roughly, yet, in a way, surprisingly gently as well, invaded my mouth.

I gasped, as I hadn't seen this one coming, and as I tried to come to my senses – all while feeling incredibly excited because of his sudden kiss – Antonio only deepened the kiss. He grabbed one of my hands and pressed it against his chest, while he placed his other hand on my lower back, rubbing me there, pressing me against his body greedily.

God, and it was fucking amazing.

It was so fucking amazing, I wanted to stare at his face as he kissed me, I wanted to rip his fucking ugly piece of clothing off his criminally good torso and touch it like a fucking maniac, I wanted to wrap my entire being around him as much as humanly possible.

But I did completely other stuff.