"dwfrwgvrwbvwds Romano hat eine Baby mit Deutschland. ewe
Und Romano ist ein dummkopft, denn er liebt Deutschland. w
Deutschland dummkopft also, denn er hat eine Baby mit Romano. Hurr3
Und jaaaaaaaa.
Hurrrrrrrr3"
..lolwut.
With love~ sldkghliekdg
You know all the warnings and shit, and yeah, yeah, yeah... Just read the thing if you like it. I'm surprised you moved on to the next chapter.
The next day, Lovino woke up with a horrible headache. He also felt so much pain in his lower back. The last thing he remembered was that he broke up with Antonio and then started chugging down his fine wine. But, what did he do after that?
And why the hell is the wall so warm?
Lovino turned so he was facing the wall, half-asleep. He felt that same warmth wrap around him like a blanket, and he smiled slightly as he cuddled closer. He raised his hand up slightly and placed it on the wall's shoulder, loving how toned and relaxed it was. Wait...walls don't have shoulders.
Lovino's eyes shot open. He then let out a scream and shoved the potato bastard away from him once he gained full consciousness.
"What the fuck?!" he cussed. "Why the hell are you in my room?!"
Ludwig was startled awake and was trying to process the situation. Then he hesitantly cleared his throat.
"Uh...a-actually, this is my room."
The Italian tensed as he heard the German.
"O-obviously we did shit," he muttered. "W-we were totally wasted, sí?"
"Uh..." Ludwig paused. "I was sober."
"You were fucking sober?!" he shrieked before punching him in his ear since he had bad aim. "What did you do to me, potato bastard?! Did you just use me while I was drunk off my ass or something?!"
Ludwig rubbed the side of his head slightly, groaning quietly at the memory.
"Lovino, you came on to me. Not the other way around."
There was silence for a few moments as the smaller man blushed deeply.
"...Fucking liar."
"Why the hell would I lie about something like that?" the German exclaimed.
"Shut up, bastard, you are giving me a headache. And put that fucking thing away. It's bad enough that it was shoved up my ass."
As the southern Italian rolled his eyes and turned on his side, Ludwig quickly covered himself.
"Just...get out of my house. You were the one that was intruding."
"Like hell, I intruded," he muttered as he sat up, wincing slightly at feeling pain in his lower back from the night before. "Cristo, you really wanted to have your way with me, didn't you?"
Lovino was then startled at feeling a strong, warm hand grab his shoulder. He tried to shift away when Ludwig forced him to look at him.
"Look, Lovino, it is best that we do not speak about this night. You were drunk, and this was just a one-night thing. No commitment whatsoever."
"Who the fuck ever said this was a commitment thing-"
"Let me finish," the German ordered sternly. "If we don't talk about it, then no one will ever know. And then eventually we will forget about the whole thing ourselves. Got it?"
"Sí, sí, I got it." Lovino shoved his hand away. "I want to desperately forget whatever the hell that was."
"Including the fact you said I was 'better than Antonio?'" Ludwig teased and smirked slightly.
Lovino's face turned a deep scarlet, and he got up from the bed and threw his shoe at the perverted German.
"Fuck you, bastard," he spat before retrieving the shoe he just threw and scavenging for his clothes before redressing himself.
Even after Lovino left, Ludwig stayed where he was. He stared up at the ceiling before covering his face with his hands.
Gott, what the hell have I done?
He really did it this time. After so many years liking the Italian, he finally had sex with him the night before. That should be a good thing, right?
Wrong.
And yet, to make things worse off than they already were, he heard a parade of footsteps coming from the hallway.
"Oh, great..." he muttered. "Don't come in here, don't come in here-"
"Oi, West!"
Too late.
Just as he previously predicted, Gilbert ran right into the room. He had a confused and at the same time perverted look on his face.
"West, why was Lovino marching out of our house?"
Isn't it obvious?
"None of your business," he mumbled as he turned around facing the wall.
"I already know," he smirked. "He was only screaming at the top of his lungs every time you rammed into his ass. I guess even you can give the little Italian a good time."
"Don't breathe a word of this!" Ludwig seethed as he looked back over at his brother.
"All right, all right," Gilbert muttered before walking out of the room.
"I mean it!" the German added as his older brother left.
By now Gilbert was back in his room in the basement.
"Kesesese, I won't 'breathe' a word of it, West," he mused to himself as he took out his phone. "But you never said that I could type one~!"
He then started texting. He first texted one person: Francis.
Oi, Frenchie, West banged Lovino!
"And...send," the Prussian smirked.
At an undefined distance away, Francis heard his phone ring. He saw that he received a message.
"Hmm, what does Gilbert have to say?"
He then read the message sent, and he smirked.
"Ohonhonhonhon, it seems that mon frère really has a soft spot for the big German."
"Oi, you bloody git!" The piercing voice of Arthur rang out from the inside of the house. He was looking out the window. "What the hell are you doing outside my house?!"
For once, Francis forgot what he was going to do. He was too amused by the news to remember.
"Arthur, you won't believe what Gilbert just told me!"
"If it has anything to do with streaking, then I don't want to hear it," he grumbled.
"It's even better than that!" he insisted. "Ludwig had sex with Lovino!"
The Brit froze slightly but then shrugged. "That's a little hard to believe. I heard a lot of interesting stories in my day, but that is the most unbelievable."
"It's true!" Francis protested. "You know as well as I do that pirates never tell a lie!"
"Well, Gilbert is different. Now, go away, frog." Arthur then moved away from the window and slammed it shut.
It didn't matter that Arthur didn't believe him. This was the most scandalous, juiciest gossip in months! Francis then started texting everyone he knew about what he heard, getting reply after reply from flabbergasted people.
"This is so incredible!"
Lovino stormed into the house after he left Ludwig's, his eyes narrowed. He couldn't stand the fact that he got fucked by the potato bastard. It was his worst nightmare come true. And he didn't even know that everyone knew yet.
He slammed the door behind himself. "Fuck my life!"
His entrance interrupted his poor fratello and Antonio. They were together in the shower. The younger Italian and the Spaniard glanced outside the shower curtain.
"I'm glad fratello came home," Feliciano admitted, "but it sounds like he is upset."
"Sí," Antonio mumbled as he stayed close to Feliciano, and he slowly ran his hands along his sides.
The Italian gasped quietly and pushed him away as he smiled.
"Toni, stop," he giggled. "Let me go and talk to him, okay?"
"Fine," he sighed. "Hurry up, though."
Feliciano did not answer as he stepped out of the shower, covering himself with the towel before walking out of the bathroom.
"Fratello," he sang as he went down the hall. He stopped when he saw Lovino hitting his head repeatedly against the wall. He then ran over and hugged him tightly. "Fratello!"
Lovino flinched before he glanced over at his fratello and shoved him away.
"Don't fucking touch me! I'm still mad at you!"
Feliciano pouted as he moved closer. "I-I said I was sorry."
"Tch." Lovino crossed his arms and looked away from him.
"What's the matter, fratello?" he pondered as he moved closer.
"None of your business," Lovino mumbled.
The younger Italian groaned in disappointment. "Come on, you can tell me. I always kept your secrets, sí? Like when you told me about that time you wet the bed when you were little and you blamed a squirrel-"
"I told you to never bring that up, dammit!" he interrupted.
"-The point is that I keep your secrets. I never told anyone about that."
Lovino realized that Feliciano did have a point there. He looked away still as he mumbled what happened. "IgotdrunkandhadsexwithLudwig."
Feliciano tilted his head to the side in confusion, since he didn't understand him. "Cosa? You're a punk and then danced with your dougie?"
"Ew, no, fucking retard!" he shouted. He then spoke slower and louder. "I. Got. Drunk. And. Had. Sex. With. The. Potato bastard! Did you hear me that time?!"
The younger Italian's jaw dropped when he heard his fratellone.
"C-cosa?! Did you really?" He knew about Ludwig liking Lovino, and he smiled as he hugged him again. "That's great!"
Lovino struggled against his hold as his face turned red with embarrassment and anger.
"'Great?!' Did you hear a word I said?!"
"Sí, I did! Oh, fratello, is this going to start a serious relationship? I do think it is disappointing that you moved on so fast, but I am happy for you. Can I-ouch! That hurt, fratello!"
Lovino had smacked him upside the head as he glared at him.
"No, there is nothing serious about it!" he seethed. "There is nothing between us! It was just a one-night thing, and that is all! If you tell anyone, I will slit your throat. Capisce?!"
Feliciano quickly nodded, swallowing thickly. "C-capisco, fratello."
"Feli, what is taking so long?"
Lovino froze as he heard Antonio's voice. He glanced over at the hall.
Antonio just came out of the shower, the towel draped over his shoulder since he had his pants on already.
Lovino glared at the two of them. "Are you fucking kidding me?!"
"B-but, fratello-"
"I hate you guys!" he shouted before he stormed down the hallway and into his room, slamming the door behind himself.
"Fratello, it's dinner time."
About six hours later, Lovino woke up after passing out on his bed, hearing Feliciano's voice.
"Go away," he mumbled into his pillow. "I'm not hungry."
"Okay," Feliciano sang from outside the room. "The food will be put here when you are ready."
The Southern Italian rolled his eyes as he buried his face more in his pillow.
Then he heard his phone ring. Confused, he answered it as he kept his face in his pillow.
"Ciao."
"Dude, you must have been hammered!"
He was confused at hearing the voice on the other end.
"Who the hell is this?"
"Lovino, it's Alfred," the voice mumbled. "Anyways, dude, how much did you drink last night?"
He froze slightly at hearing him. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about when Ludwig humped your brains out!"
Lovino quickly recoiled at hearing his comment before sitting up. "Where did you hear that from?"
"Uh, Francis-"
"Let me tell you something! That is a lie! Do you understand? Nothing happened last night!"
There was a pause before Alfred then laughed obnoxiously.
"Hahahahaha, okay slut, if you say so."
"I am not a slut!"
As he shouted, Alfred already hung up.
That bastard lied to me!
Lovino flung the door open as he stormed out of his room. Feliciano looked up obliviously and smiled at him.
"Fratello, I'm glad you changed your mi-"
Slap!
The younger Italian held onto his face, tears forming in his eyes. "W-what was that for?"
"You lied to me!" Lovino exclaimed. "You fucking lied to me!"
"L-lovi, what are you talking about?"
"You said that you wouldn't tell anyone!" he spat as he grabbed a knife and pinned Feliciano against the counter.
He whimpered quietly as more tears formed. "B-but I didn't! I-I swear!"
"Then how else would Alfred and Francis know?!" Lovino held the knife up to his brother's throat as he glared at him.
Felciano swallowed thickly. "I-I didn't tell them! I d-didn't tell anyone! H-honest!"
"How. Do. They. Know?!"
"Because Gilbert told them."
Lovino tensed slightly at hearing Antonio's voice, and he saw him sitting at the dinner table.
"Why the fuck are you still here? Wait...Gilbert told them?!"
The Spaniard nodded bluntly. "He told Francis and me, and I guess Francis told everyone else."
"That fucking bastard!" he shouted as he pulled the knife away-which made Feliciano feel very relieved-and placed it down on the counter, going over to the table and sitting down. "Potato bastard must have told them."
"After what you did with him, you still call him that?" Antonio's eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms.
"So what?" he muttered. "There is nothing going on between us, tomato bastard."
"You might say that now."
"There is nothing between us," Lovino repeated.
"I don't care what you do, Lovino," the Spaniard chided, "but that was pretty low of you to move on so quickly."
Lovino froze as he heard him, his eyes narrowing more. "What I did was low?! You downright deserved it, fucking bastard!"
"Fratello, calm down," Feliciano whispered as he sat down at the table. "Let's just eat dinner, sí?"
Lovino was glaring at Antonio and breathing heavily through his nose. He was so mad at him for saying something that stupid.
"Come on, the younger Italian insisted as he held out a forkful of food near his mouth. "Eat up, fratello."
He snatched the fork out of Feliciano's hand, glaring.
"I'm not a fucking baby!" he muttered before he then started eating the food.
Feliciano and Antonio gave each other a bewildered look. But they then kept quiet as they started eating dinner as well, and the three of them stayed awkwardly silent for the rest of the night.
