Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

A/n1: In this chapter, Lovi is kind of acting like a douche. I'm sorry for that – but hey, if it's any consolation, he does have a good reason for it, and Antonio doesn't notice too much about it (yay for the power of dense walls!). Also, Lovino will feel very shitty about it later. Um… that's good, right?

A/n2: I just realized Antonio and I have the same astrological sign: Aquarius.
…
I'm not sure why I'm even saying this, but it is kind of funny, right? Because that means all that crazy stuff I've read about my sign over the past few years actually goes for Antonio as well!
Well yay!
…
Okay, you can read further now. I just needed to get this off my chest. XDDDDDDD

~~ And Three Makes Five ~~

Chapter 23:

Children aren't everything.
Nella Larsen
(American novelist)

'First of all, I can't already decide whether your children are mortal or not – that's because we need to compare the outcome of these tests to those of the other children that have appeared in diverse European countries. It's a very long and intensive process, so I'm afraid I can't tell you at this point whether your children are personifications of countries or just ordinary humans.'

Doctor Tosca shut up for a moment to let this news sink in.

…

Well, all nice and peachy, but there wasn't much to sink in, was there? I mean, so they did some tests on the kids, but oh, woe, they didn't know the outcome of the other kids' tests, so they couldn't tell us anything more right now.

That's about it. Nothing too shocking, I guess.

So Antonio and I just stared at her like "well how should we be reacting on this newsless news" and thankfully, doctor Tosca took that as a sign to tell us what kind of other remarkable shit she did know about the kids already.

And what she was allowed to tell, of course.

Because at this point, I was starting to suspect every single living being – except for Antonio, and animals, probably – had some kind of nasty secret that he/she was not allowed to tell me.

'Continuing on the subject of the probability of your offspring being immortal: all of the doctors had to show the kids of the country's personification a map of the land itself,' doctor Tosca said. 'So we showed all three of your kids the map of Spain and the map of Italy. And then…'

'…Matteo thought it was food and started to nibble on the map?' I prompted, because I could totally see that happening, that little guy is just so damn strange.

The doctor frowned. 'No.'

I huffed. Wow, she couldn't even smile a little bit. Well sorry for trying to lighten up the mood, you keeping-stuff-to-yourself-and-not-telling-us-every thing bitch.

'What did happen then?' Antonio asked, smiling soothingly at me when he saw my moping face.

'We discovered that your sons know the capital of Spain. They know it by name – and they can even show it on the map. We split the kids up during the test, and both boys knew right away that Madrid was the capital of Spain. Very interesting indeed.'

Antonio's jaw had dropped pretty much on the ground, and fuck if my mouth wasn't wide open as well, dammit.

'Wait – they can hardly speak, but they can tell you Madrid's the capital of Spain?' I stammered. 'What fucked-up bullshit is that!'

'That's not all,' doctor Tosca patiently carried on, 'your daughter knew Rome is the capital of Italy.'

'The fuck,' I responded.

'Are…' Antonio gulped and widened his eyes some more, '…are our kids geniuses? Because if that's the case, I wonder if we really are the parents.'

My doctor smiled a bit, but it seemed sad for some reason.

'Don't worry, mister Spain, mister Romano. As I told you before, all of the doctors put the kids to this test. And all of the kids knew to point out what the capital of one of their parents' countries were. For example, your niece Mimi knew Berlin was the capital of Germany, and I heard from my Russian partner that Anya knows Moscow's the capital of Russia.'

'…Anya?' Antonio asked.

'Mister Russia and miss Belgium's daughter.' Doctor Tosca paused. 'I can't believe I just told you some private information about mister Russia and miss Belgium's daughter. Please keep this information to yourself.'

'A-alright…' Now Antonio shivered, and I couldn't blame him – the mental image of Femke and Russia getting it on was so goddamn horrifying, I'd rather watch one of those awful documentary's about ways to torture people that Alejo seems to like so much.

'Wait a minute…' I furrowed my brows. 'Only Berlin? Only Moscow? Doesn't Femke's daughter know the capital city of her mother's country? You know, the capital of Belgium? Brussels?'

'That's indeed the case.' Doctor Tosca looked a bit hesitant, but she ultimately decided to keep on talking about it anyway. 'Your children were no exception. Luisa didn't know the capital of Spain. Alejo and Matteo didn't know the capital of Italy – and yes, Matteo did start sucking on the map. Do you feed him well enough?'

I made a pissed-off face. 'We fed them this morning. We can't help it if you psycho-moonbunnies can't find any time to give them some fucking food – I mean, it's after six already, dammit.'

Doctor Tosca cleared her throat, embarrassed. 'Right. You… sorry for that. I'll give you some food-coupons later, alright?'

'You know what you can do with those food-coupons?' I growled, but Antonio rubbed my arm and hushed me.

'It's okay, sweetie. We'll go have some dinner with the kids after all of this is over. Which is probably any minute now. Isn't that right, doctor?~'

He gave doctor Tosca a smile, but damn, there was so much darkness and annoyance and downright pitch-black hatred shining out of his eyes and face, it was no fucking wonder she made a squeaky little sound and blabbered she indeed was almost finished with her explanation.

'T-t-that's right,' she stuttered, trying to avoid Antonio's killing glare – which was kind of turning me on for some strange, sick reason, 'r-right now, the only thing that's left for me to say is that we know the dates on which the kids have been (theoretically) born.'

'How nice!~' Antonio said, his voice suddenly normal again – which for some reason was only creepier if you asked me. 'You hear that, Lovi? Now we can celebrate their birthdays!'

'Yay.' I made a swirly figure with my finger.

'The girl is born on the twelfth of February, the boys on the seventeenth of March,' the doctor said. 'I don't think I have to tell you what years they were presumably born – you both can count back perfectly fine, I think.'

'How nice!~' Antonio repeated himself, laughing all excitedly and now just wait just one more darned minute here.

Luisa was born on the twelfth of February? Alejo and Matteo were born on the seventeenth of March?

…

…

What the fucking fuck?

'But those are our birthdates!' I told doctor Tosca. 'Antonio's birthday's on February 12! My birthday's on March 17! How is it possible for the kids to have their birthdays on those exact same dates?'

Doctor Tosca pursed her lips together tightly, but "luckily", and very unexpectedly, Antonio came to her rescue.

'Ah, don't get all hysterical, Lovi! It's rare that parents and kids share the same birthday, but it's not impossible!'

'That's too easy for an explanation, dammit!' I nagged at him. I turned to the doctor. 'When's my niece's birthday? The seventeenth of March?'

'No.' Doctor Tosca shot a stern look at me. 'And I can't tell you.'

'Oh, can't you? Well, by saying no, I now know Mimi's birthday's the same as Germany's.'

'Oh drat.' Doctor Tosca groaned, rubbing her temples.

So the kids had the same birthday date as one of their parents. I felt I was starting to shake. Just what the fuck was going on? What was the big deal here? What were they planning to do with our kids? And why? And how?

Antonio noticed I was freaking out and suddenly got up from his chair.

'I think you should go now, doctor Tosca.'

'Yes,' she instantly agreed, getting up from her chair so fucking fast she almost tumbled off it. 'I-I also think it's time for me to leave you. Since I have to make a report of our investigation, and you still need to eat and feed your kids, and… w-well, you get the picture.'

'We get it. And we thank you for your time and hard work today.' Antonio narrowed his eyes. 'Now please get out.'

It's a good thing Antonio can be scary as fuck sometimes, because the pregnant doctor scurried off with the speed of shooting stars in a fucking rocket ship.

…

…

No, no. Don't just assume that's very speedy. It IS very speedy. So yeah. Go figure.

\0o0/

After doctor Tosca and the moonbunny-parade took off like rocket-driving shooting stars, Antonio and I took our kids out for dinner, in some kid-friendly restaurant in the neighborhood.

They behaved very nicely, but that's probably only because their mouth was filled with food constantly since the poor twerps hadn't eaten a single thing since this morning. Luisa had spaghetti, Matteo had paella, Alejo had a huge motherfucking steak, just like Antonio – again, I found that dark rawness that emitted off him as he tore that steak to pieces with just his teeth sexy as fuck. What was wrong with me? – and I had some ravioli.

We ate. We drank. We went back home. We put the kids in bed. They slept instantly. Except for Luisa, probably. And then we went to our own bedroom. And started to realize we had actually experienced the whole dinner thing as one big, blurry acid-trip of some sorts, because we could only think and talk about the shit doctor Tosca had told us and all the other things that had happened this day seemed like a huge, colorless dream we had almost forgot about.

…

And my panicky heart was still beating like it was beating for the last time.

'I'm scared,' I told Antonio, as we laid next to each other in bed, staring at the ceiling. 'I'm really, really fucking terrified.'

'Of what?' Antonio asked – but I could hear in his voice he felt anxious as well.

I swallowed. That stupid ravioli was starting to climb its way out of my stomach, dammit.

'Of everything that's going to come. I just know something's going to happen. And it won't be something good.'

'Maybe you should stop worrying for a few hours, sweetie.' Antonio rolled on his side and put a hand on my face, smiling as comforting as he could. 'You won't get any further with doing just that.'

'B-but something's not right.' I swallowed again – because of the ravioli again, of course – and wiggled myself closer to him. 'Something's just not right, Antonio, and I'm scared of what that could be. Or mean.'

He nodded, now softly caressing the back of my head as I pressed my face into his chest.

'I know, my love. I know. But still, there's nothing you can do right now. We can only wait and see what'll happen. And hope the best of it.'

'It'll be okay, though. Right? Everything will be alright. R-right?' I looked up at him with this stupid, pleading look on my face.

'That's right,' Antonio said, 'everything will be alright, I promise you that. Now, you should try to relax a bit, my love. I'll help you with that.'

Putting his words into actions, his hands softly slid down my arms, until he took hold of my wrists. Then he swiftly placed my hands

ON HIS ASS.

…

…

I was starting to understand where Matteo got his weirdness from.

'There!' Antonio said, patting my hands on his ass like "yup yup, just hold on tight right there" and beamed a massive smile at me.

'Okay,' I slowly said, 'now why did you put my hands on your butt? I mean, I like your butt, sure, but is it really necessary for me to hold on to your butt cheeks at a time like this?'

'Absolutely,' Antonio said – and his voice told me he wasn't even kidding.

'Explain,' I huffed. 'Seriously – explain.'

'Well, it's soothing, right?'

'What?'

'Holding my ass like this. Doesn't it soothe you?'

'…no.'

'No?'

'No.'

'Does it make you uncomfortable, then?'

'This conversation we're having while I'm kneading your behind makes me uncomfortable, dammit.'

Antonio laughed quietly and wrapped his arms around me, pulling my face closer to his.

'Ahh, so you still have no idea what I'm aiming for?~ Silly Lovi. And I thought I was the dense one…'

I stared at him in mild anger (like hell I was denser than him!), suddenly saw that typical "getting steadily hornier" –look in his eyes, and uttered a soft 'ohhh'.

'Maybe…' he muttered, pulling up my shirt a bit, 'you'll get more relaxed if we have some good sex right now.'

'Right now?' I stammered.

'Yes.' Antonio's hands got even cheekier when they enclosed themselves around my own butt and squeezed. 'Right here, right now. The kids are asleep, we finally put that lock we have on the door into use, we don't have any guests and I'm very hot for you.'

I bit my lower lip to prevent myself from laughing. Oh, he was sexy enough alright, but that last sentence sounded a bit off, for some reason. Still, that only made him more endearing, and I loved him like that. Like I loved him any other way, too.

…

I wasn't blushing. No, I wasn't.

'A-alright,' I mumbled, while Antonio impatiently licked and kissed my neck, 'I-I guess having sex would… would be nice, yes…'

'Right?' I shivered when Antonio's breath tickled my ear. 'Do you want to continue what you started this morning?'

'What do you mean?'

'Well, didn't you say you wanted to fuck me senseless this morning?'

'I… may have said something like that.'

'Why don't you do just that, hmm?~'

Antonio got up a bit. His eyes were very beautiful and hopeful as they stared at me, all glittery and excitedly.

I smiled a bit. 'You should stop acting so goddamn cute, you bastard.'

'Right back at you.' He grinned and gave me a sloppy kiss that I lazily answered.

I really liked his kisses. They were very nice and dominant and I felt like I could just let him do whatever the fuck he wanted to do with me and still get satisfied as fuck. In fact, letting him fuck me senseless was far more appealing to me right now, simply because I didn't exactly feel like playing the controlling "aggressor", or whatever these homosex-positions were called, dammit.

I mean, I was tired, and stressed, and tense. Also, I actually still felt a bit like crying but no way in hell I was going to admit that to him, because Antonio would want to hug and hold me and then I was definitely going to cry, depression all over, angsty shit would hit the fan, etcetera etcetera…

But yeah.

Antonio apparently looked forward to having me top the living daylights out of him.

It would be a bit hard for me to say I didn't really want to top him.

I actually didn't want to have sex at all right now.

…

…

Wait.

Did I just say I didn't want to have sex?

Did I just say I didn't want sex?

What the crap?

\0o0/

Oh, this was awkward.

While Antonio only seemed to get more excited about the whole me doing him plan, I was just lying there beneath him, trying to answer his spitty (what, there was just a lot of saliva going on there) kisses as feverishly as I usually did, but I caught myself thinking that he should just hurry the fuck up already and do me – oh wait, I was supposed to do him.

This was getting more and more awkward by the fucking second, goddammit.

Luckily, or thankfully, Antonio then all of a sudden stopped kissing me and sat up, giving me this strange, critical look.

'W-what?' I wheezed, out of breath.

'Are you okay?' He sounded worried. 'Because you don't look like you're okay.'

'I'm fine,' I instantly lied – fuck, now why did I lie?

'We don't have to have sex if you don't want to, you know?' he carried on. 'You can just tell me. I'll understand. I won't be angry or something.'

I sat up a bit as well – I had been lying on my back like an apathic stranded whale all this time and I suddenly thought I should stop doing that – and observed him. No, I knew he wouldn't be angry… but judging by that huge tent that was slowly getting bigger and bigger in his boxers, I also knew he'd be disappointed.

A disappointed Antonio was like a hurt little kitten – you'd fucking hate yourselfif you would be the one responsible for its hurting.

'Look,' I sighed, leaning back on my elbows, 'I'm just a bit tired, okay? I'll be fine, don't you worry. Now come back down here and let us have lots of sex.'

I'd be freaking creeped out to the ninth degree if Antonio ever tried to entice me like that, sighing and sounding very bored and shit, but not Antonio. Nooooo. That man proved, once again, that his denseness could destroy entire countries, one by one, just because it was that fucking powerful.

'Okay!~' he chirped – and I had expected him to fall right back on me, immediately discovering I wasn't hard at all, not even a little bit – but no, no, instead of doing that, Antonio decided to go to the fucking bathroom first. Because he needed to pee.

…

What. The. Hell.

'You need to take a piss?' I said, barely believing him. 'But you're rock hard, dammit! You can barely squeeze any liquid that isn't semen through that dick of yours!'

'But, um…' Antonio flushed and that was only fucking normal, because so would I if I pulled off a stunt like that, '…y-you see, right before I started feeling you up and stuff, I actually needed to go to the toilet. First I was like "naah, it'll be fine" but now, I can't shake the feeling I might have an accident if I don't go to the bathroom right now anyway.'

'You're fucking brilliant.' I wrinkled my nose. Great, now I had to touch his cock after he had taken a fucking piss. Fucking nasty, dammit.

…

Seriously, what the fuck was wrong with me? Antonio had gone to the bathroom more often right before we'd have (mostly unplanned) sex, and I didn't had any problems with his dick then, not even when he would put it inside of me. I would be all like "oh god yes yes yes just take me already" and he'd be like "yay!~" and sex would ensue and we wouldn't even think about fucking hygiene, for shit's sake.

Not sure that always was a good thing. Oh god. Maybe it was a very disgusting and dangerous thing. I could almost hear doctor Delgado ranting in the back of my head: 'I told you so, you dirty homo! Now suffer! SUFFER FROM THE NASTINESS!'

'Lovino?' Antonio eyed me weirdly again. 'Really, sweetie, if you don't feel like it—'

'Just go piss already, dammit,' I snapped at him, 'and I'm perfectly fine. As fine as a pine. Now take a whizz and get your sexy ass back here already.'

'Right!' Antonio cheered up right away – god, that man must have been way too fucking horny if even my nagging didn't bring him down – and took off, dashing into the bathroom.

Good.

Finally some peace and quiet here, dammit.

As I heard Antonio pissing and sighing contently as he did that – he always did, I should question him about that later, because I know it's a nice feeling, but sighing like he had just come? Really? – I closed my eyes and let the feelings of guilt take over control.

Man, I was being mean. Not angry, not annoyed – no, I was being downright mean. I didn't like that. I didn't want to be mean to Antonio, he was way too sweet to be mean to. I should make up to him, even though he probably hadn't even noticed my meanness yet, thanks to his horny haze.

So I would have sex with him, and it would be wonderful. There.

…

He sure was taking his time, by the way. He should visit toilets more often, otherwise he could get bladder-issues or something.

God, this was such a nice bed.

Such a nice, soft bed…

It's a good thing I suffer from insomnia, because…

…

…ahh, because otherwise, I'd probably have fallen…

…

…asleep here… in a heartbeat…

…

…

…