So we meet again, fanfiction from my yesteryears. Do I have to add a warning? Guys it's mpreg. Read at your own risk

And as a side note, Germany and Italy! Have y'all ever noticed, that 9/10 in a Spamano story, there's Gerita?

But no matter! Enjoy!

For as long as Spain knew Romano (and mind you, that is quite a while), he had never been one to openly show affection. The only time Romano had been willing to cuddle would be lying in bed after sex. And as far as Spain was concerned, there had not been sex. At least since that one time in the tomato fields- most likely the time Romano got pregnant. But still, the fact remained Romano had slipped his hand in his, and smiled (honest to God smiled) as they walked home from the store.

More than a tad concerned, probably more so than when Romano had screamed at him for not adding American potatoes into the pasta, Spain resolved to keep a close eye on Romano from there on out. Which honestly wasn't hard since he had been doing the exact same thing since Romano became pregnant.

"Antonio?" Romano asked tentatively, swinging their linked hands together. The only response Spain could muster was a quiet "Hm?", and Romano rushed into his question before he lost the nerve.

"Do you think I'd be a good parent?"

Spain tightened his grip on Romano's hand. "Oh course! Why do you ask?"

"Because. Reasons" Spain frowned a little at Romano's response, waiting for him to continue. Eventually, the silence became too much, and Spain stopped walking, causing Romano to pause as well.

"Like what?" Spain prompted, trying to meet Romano's elusive gaze.

"I- I well, um, I don't want for our kids to get all messed up because of me. I mean, you say I'm all these things I'm not, and I don't- I couldn't stand it if he or she hated me. I know what I'm like and, hell, everybody knows what I'm like and I don't know what to do and I'm, I'm scared."

Spain stayed quiet for a minute, debating on the best course of action. Finally he chose the one most natural to him. Pulling Romano into a tight hug, and continuing as though he never planned on letting go.

"I'm scared too you know. I'm scared for you and I'm scared for the babies. And as for being a horrible guardian, I would like you to name one person who could be better than you at raising a child, and I will prove you wrong."

"Feliciano."

Spain froze, processing the idea. Italy? A mother.. er, father... care taker? The idea slowly sank in, and almost without realizing it, Spain burst into a laugh.

"What?" Romano shouted, pushing Spain away, cheeks ablaze. "Why the fuck are you laughing?"

Spain tried to suppress his laughter, but the more he tried to imagine Italy caring for child, the more he laughed. As much as he adored the younger Vargas brother, the whole idea of him in charge of another life was commercial.

"Bastard! That's not funny! If you think my idea is stupid just fucking say it!" Spain was dragged down to earth by Romano's hurt expression, and quickly tried to make amends.

"No! I don't think it's stupid, just silly. Why would Feli be any better than you as a parent? As long as I've known him, he's always been kinda spacey. I just think someone would get really hurt under his watch if no one else was around."

Romano entertained the thought for a second, but quickly shot it down. "No, he's got Potato Bastard to help him. And that's not why I thought he'd be the better parent. He's always so nice and sweet and stupid crap like that. Hell, even I would rather have him than me."

Spain just shook his head. How did Romano think so low of himself? "No querido, you're wrong. Anyone who knows you- really knows you- can tell you. You're not so easily likeable, yes, but that's what makes you so perfect. Because it takes getting time to know you to see all the amazing qualities you have. Our bebé is going to love you, just as much as I do."

There was silence in the moment following, Romano looking like he was attempting to absorb Spain's words. Then, rising to stand on the pads of his feet, he pulled Spain down and kissed him sweetly. "I, I love you too." And, almost as if he was debating whether or not to say his next words out loud, Romano sputtered, "And, and you k-know, if you'd like to show me. That you love me and all. You can do that. I called the doctor to ask, and he said it's perfectly fine. So yeah."

Smirking, Spain swept Romano's feet out from under him, and caught him in the same motion. "I believe I have no choice then. If mi corazón wants my curro, then that's what he'll get."

[=]

Despite what Romano believed, Italy did notice he was missing. A voice mail was all the warning Romano received before his brother was all but trying to knock down the door. Not like he could however.

This could have all been fine -Romano could have just dealt with his idiot brother and hit the potato bastard and all would have been well- had he not been fucking huge (by his standards at least. Dr. Malot had said he was due to be a lot bigger in the coming months).

Though there were ways around the baby (or babies) bump, as he had learned. Wearing baggy clothes for one, works. Or he could just causally hide behind something that would cover his entire body and he'd be good to go. Both options were perfect if he wasn't extremely picky over his clothes and wanted deal with Spain's disapproval of 'hiding the babies'. Which he didn't, thank you very much.

Then there was the option where he actually told Veneziano that he was careless and stupid and a freak, who actually somehow got pregnant. Which was not happening, so what was the point of considering it?

The knocking grew louder and more insistent. Romano knew from experience that Veneziano would stay out there until he opened the door, trying everything from crocodile tears to begging his boytoy to knock the door in. Romano just had to wait them out.

Suddenly though, there was the turning of a lock, and a cheerful hello.

"Hola!"

That jackass. Spain had caved and opened the door, against Romano's strict orders not to. Well, just because they were in doesn't mean Romano had to make an appearance. He'll just camp upstairs until they left.

Of course fate wasn't on his side. And neither was Spain it seemed. The third time Veneziano asked- Romano could actually hear his whining from the closet he had locked himself in- Spain directed him upstairs.

Veneziano left no bedsheet unturned, bathroom unsearched, or closet unchecked. Which was how Romano found himself face to face with his little brother, awkwardly standing in the half darkness of the closet, once again clutching his stomach.

"Fratello! I was so worried about you!" Veneziano shouted, throwing his arms around his brother in a tight hug. "Why were you avoiding me?"

"Who said I was avoiding you?" Romano growled, trying to squirm out Veneziano's hold.

Veneziano gave him an incredulous look. "You were hiding in the closet"

Romano, still struggling, tried to come up with a half assed excuse. Usually anything would work with this dimwit. "I was, um looking for something."

"Oh really? I'll help!" Case and point.

Finally released from 'hug therapy' Romano began walking to the door. "I found it already, idiota. Come on, I'm hungry."

Completely ignoring Veneziano's questions as to what exactly he was looking for, Romano arrived at the kitchen a few seconds before his brother, who was distracted by a painting in the hallway. Which meant he couldn't stop Romano from kicking Germany out of the kitchen.

"Why'd you do that?" Spain asked, continuing to stir whatever he was making on the stovetop.

"Because. He might try to make to food more German." Romano said, scowling.

Spain just sighed, refraining from pointing out that now Germany and Veneziano were alone in the hallway. "But he's our guest."

"No," Romano snorted. "He's your guest. I wasn't going to let them in"

A startled gasp in the doorway revealed Italy, who had been listening in on the short conversation. "You, you weren't going to let me in?"

Shit, now he was going to cry. Good going. To prevent this catastrophe, Romano somewhat reluctantly pulled his brother into a hug.

"Don't cry, you'll get the floor all wet"

"I knew it! You were hiding from me! Why are you so mean?"

"Gah! Stop crying. Feli I'm serious! Fine, I'm sorry, okay?"

And in mere seconds, Veneziano went from crying to smiling. Spain smiled as well, and turned back to the stove. Germany stood next to him, offering to help clean. All was fine, until Italy noticed something was off.

"Wow Fratello... you're getting really big! Did you eat too much pasta?"

Romano squeaked in response, face growing red. "What the hell Feli? I'm not fat!"

"But your stomach is really big..."

Veneziano trailed off, moving to pull up Romano's shirt. Romano in turn leapt away, dashing toward the other side of the kitchen. Veneziano moved to follow him, but was stopped by Germany.

"Feliciano, what did I say about personal space?" Germany started, resisting the urge just sigh and leave the brothers to their own devices.

"Not to touch people?"

"No, that's not what I said."

"Oh, well I don't remember! And in any case, I only touched his shirt!" Italy managed to wriggle out of Germany's hold, and dashed back to where Romano was standing. He reached out a hand to touch his bulging middle. "See Fratello! You've stomach really is-"

Whatever Veneziano had been trying to say was cut short as he let out a quick scream, dashing behind Germany. "It kicked me!" He wailed, clutching Germany's shirt. "Romano! Your stomach kicked me!"

[=]

There was really no way to properly respond to such a comment. He was found out, it was all over. Romano could see the confusion in his brother's face and the nonchalant shrugging of Spain's shoulders, as if to say, "the jig's up".

Well the jig wouldn't be up until Romano said it was. And if there was one thing Romano was good at, it was being completely stubborn in matters that would probably benefit him to tell the people who would care and who deserved to know.

Like explaining he was pregnant to Veneziano after he, you know, got pregnant.

"Can I talk to you?" Romano finally settled on. He eyed Ludwig's confused face and felt a well of irritation rise up. "...Alone?"

"You aren't going to kick me too, right?" Veneziano asked, looking extremely concerned.

Of course he was going to kick him. "No I won't kick you."

"Alrighty, lead the way!"

Romano turned on his heels and walked into the living room. Once both brothers were seated next to one another on the couch, Romano began to talk.

"Okay, so you know how I haven't been home recently and how it appears I'm avoiding you?"

"Yes..." Veneziano said, willing the conversation to go on.

"Well I was. Avoiding you that is."

Veneziano frowned, but Romano paid him no heed as he soldiered on. "But I have a good reason this time. Do you remember those weird lessons Elizabeta would always try and teach us when we were really little?"

"You mean when she would have us take care of those flour sacks? And after she tried to get Gilbert and Roderich to-"

"Yes!" Romano cut in, not keen on hearing a repeat of that instance. "And then what Francis told you about, you know, it?"

"Sex?" Veneziano asked innocently. Romano cringed, still trying to convince himself that all his little brother knew about sex had to do with pretty women strutting the market and nothing pertaining to the potato infesting his kitchen.

"Yes. Sex." Romano finally said.

The conversation stilled, the air filled with some sort of ambiance as Veneziano waited patiently for his brother to continue. But as the seconds ticked by, it appeared that Romano was going to do no such thing.

"So... sex and man-babies" Veneziano prompted.

Romano's face turned red and he looked like he wanted to crawl under a rock. Godfuckingdammit why was this so hard? First the doctor, now his brother. Romano had never been one to tell personal things to people, even when it really mattered, but this whole freak baby incident was way beyond his comfort zone.

If his comfort zone was a little typewriter in his head where not even he could read the truth sometimes, this situation would be neon lighted in the farthest reaches of outer space.

"Just tell him" Romano coached himself. He took one deep breath, then another, and finally spit out the words he knew he needed to say.

"I ate a potato on accident, and am now being consumed alive from a parasite that transferred into my stomach. I will be dead within a year's time. The kick you felt was actually it trying to claw its way out from me to you so that it may eat your flesh as well."

There was a deafening beat before Veneziano screamed and flung himself to the other side of the couch, desperate to put as much distance between them as possible. He overshoot and fell gracelessly to the floor, crying for Germany to come save him -and possibly his brother, Romano couldn't understand anything through his blubbering- from the thing in Romano's stomach.

Both Spain and Germany bolted from the kitchen at the cries, the former worried and the latter confused and possibly annoyed.

The sobbing boy on the floor flung himself behind the protection Germany provided by just existing, wailing all the while. "Lovino's going to die! And it's going to kill me! A potato parasite is going to kill me! I don't want to die! And what if I don't die?! What if I'm just mortally wounded and forced to lie in a puddle of my own blood? I don't want to dieeeeeeeee!"

As he cried out all he could, he seemed to realize something. "Wait- Ludwig eats potatoes too! You're going to infect me too!" he screamed, flinging himself back and into the hall and away from the 'potato infested German'.

Romano smirked, realizing the genius of the situation. Not only had he gotten around explaining what a freak he was, but now his brother was sure to stay far away from both potatoes and Germany. It was perfect!

But Romano's momentary victory died when he noticed the look of disapproval on Spain's face.

"Really Lovino?" He asked. His shoulders slumped as he let out his last sigh. "Why would you say something like that?"

Immediately Romano felt guilty for the disappointment in Spain's eyes and his cries of his brother, now curled in the hall. Why did Spain have that effect on him? One sentence and something he normally never gave any fucks about suddenly made his heart grow heavy with guilt. Maybe it was the hormones.

"It was just a joke." Romano defended, crossing his arms. He felt a strong sense of dismay as his arms could no longer sit comfortably on his baby bump.

"A joke?" Veneziano asked, hurt.

Spain looked equally upset. "So... this is a joke to you?"

"No!" Romano exclaimed.

"Then what?"

"What do you mean then what? It's kinda difficult you know! This isn't the kind of thing I can just say out loud and expect everything to be fine-and-fucking-dandy!"

Spain began to shout, exasperated. "You make it sound like every other time you told someone you were shunned! You weren't, not once! He's your brother for God's sake, he deserves to know!"

"...what do I deserve to know?" Veneziano cut in. He allowed Germany to help him up after it had become clear that a potato parasite was not the real explanation.

Romano turned to him, red faced and bitter, still unable to speak the words. "Nothing, it's none of your business"

"I think it is" Veneziano said. He refused to move neither closer nor farther away from his brother, but stood his ground.

"If you don't tell him, I will" Spain threatened.

Romano ground his teeth, feeling cornered. He battled himself in his head. He opened his mouth once, twice, three times before the words bubbled up in his throat, stopping there and suffocating him. "Fine" He chocked out. "Tell him"

"Romano is pregnant." Spain said instantly, throwing the dice onto the table.

There was never a tenser moment in the happy-go-lucky household. Everyone stood frozen, unsure about who would be right, unsure about how the others would react.

Finally, it was Germany who broke the silence. "That's... um..."

"SO AMAZING" Veneziano screeched, throwing himself at Romano.

Romano fell into the couch at the overexcited Italian, nearly crushed under the weight of the hug. "Stop!" He cried, shoving his brother away. "You'll hurt the babies!"

Veneziano froze instantly. "Babies?"

"Babies" Romano admitted.

"Oh that's even better! One for you, and one for Antonio! You can teach them to cook and when one gets really bad you can punish them and I can take the other out for pasta!"

"What? No! I am not punishing one of my children and rewarding the other, that'll mess them up as much as we are!"

"We aren't messed up..." Veneziano said.

'Tell that to my inferiority complex' Romano thought bitterly, but he kept silent. "Whatever" He spat out. Gingerly, he leaned to hug his brother.

"Uh... If you don't mind me asking" Germany said from the doorway he had stayed posted at since entering the room. "How does such a thing happen?"

"That's easy!" Spain chirped, all smiles. "When Lovino throws himself on the ground after we've been out in the fields a while, he kinda plays with his shirt and gives me this irresistible look-"

"That is not what I meant!" Ludwig shouted, mortified.

"Eh? Oh you mean the pregnancy. I don't actually know. Something about representing both male and female populations."

"How about when the, er, baby is due?"

Spain paused for a second, trying to think. "C-section. Or something. The doctor doesn't tell me much"

"C-section" Romano confirms from the couch. His words were mumbled to the point it was a wonder anyone heard him.

"This is so cool!" Veneziano trills. He throws a glance between Ludwig and Romano. "I want a baby too"

"No you do not" Romano snapped. "It's hell"

"I still want one"

Romano ground his teeth for probably the hundredth time that night. Before he could shake some sense into his brother, he noticed something. "Does anyone else smell something burning?"

The room's occupants sniffed the air, with all logic pointing to the kitchen. The distinct burnt smell of charred rice jolted Spain's memory.

"I left the stove on!" He wailed, darting from the room.