Hello lovely people!

After a bit of working this out, I am glad to inform you that I've finished another chapter! I know, EXCITING!

Once again, I really want to thank you all of the views. It really makes me so happy that there are a LOT of you guys taking the time to read this!

Okay so this chapter I do have a few more OC's mentioned. Like I mentioned in . . . chapter 2 (I think) that OC's are VERY important! TRUST ME!

Like always, translations might be off. Please inform me of any mishaps!

As well, if there is anything that you guys are confused with PLEASE TELL ME!

PM me and tell me what you're confused with and I will help you! I don't want any of you to be lost!

ummmm there is a mention of "Emma" and I want you all to know that's my headcanon name for Belgium.

I think that may be about it, I think

Hope you all enjoy!~

Hetalia and all respective characters (c) Hidekaz Himaruya

Don't Lean on Me (c) me Bringmemisery

Chapter 6 – No Importa

Antonio slid open the wet shower curtain before him, goosebumps bubbled across every inch of his body. He placed his wet foot onto the cold tile below as he reached for his white towel on the countertop. He tied it around his waist, then shook the water from his damp hair. He rubbed the foggy mirror before him with the back of his hand, and stared as his reflection.

The past couple of days had been a rollercoaster, and he looked like a train wreck. The more he tried to ignore it all, the more consumed he grew. He felt as if there were something coming, but he wasn't sure what.

Perhaps his anxiety was spiraling again?

He placed his index finger upon a space of fogged glass, and drew a smile. After he flashed a quick smile of his own he sighed.

"Antonio," he said in a high voice, "you're losing your mind, amigo."

"I know," he laughed, "pero, what am I supposed to do, Señor Smiley?"

"Talk about your problemas!"

He laughed once more, "if only it were that easy . . ."

He watched drops of water slither down the mirror from his smiley creation.

Twenty-five and crazy – that sure is attractive.

He shook his hair once more, then turned to the door beside him. As he opened it, the chilled outside air caused him to shiver. It was now that he wished he would have brought a spare change of clothes into the bathroom. But no, they were still sitting on his bed upstairs.

He raced down the hallway and cut around the corner, but almost slammed right into someone. He clung onto his towel, which now tried to release its grip, and felt his eyes widen.

"Lovino!" Antonio yelled, "Q-que haces aqui?"

". . . What the hell are you wearing?" Lovino asked as his eyes trailed down.

Antonio looked down, "Una toallita . . . wait– are you checking Boss out, mi vida?"

"The hell is there to check out?" Lovino crossed his arms.

Antonio placed his hand on his chest, "your words pierce me like a dagger, mi vida."

"Well, you sure as hell aren't dead yet," Lovino pushed Antonio's shoulder, "why did you take a shower down here? Don't you have one in your bedroom?"

"Sí," Antonio walked passed him towards the staircase, "pero, I was too lazy to go up there and take one."

"Yet you're going up there anyways?"

"I forgot my clothes," Antonio laughed as he walked up the stairs.

"You're a moron," Lovino replied, his footsteps trailed behind, "you're trailing water, dumbass."

"It'll dry," Antonio stated as he approached his bedroom door.

Once inside he walked over to his bed and picked up his t-shirt. Then he scanned around for the pair of pants that should have been there as well. He soon gave up and looked at the t-shirt, and noticed a small stain on the sleeve.

"Hey, stupid," Lovino called.

"Mi vida?"

"Has Feli stopped by here today?"

"No," Antonio turned, "por que?"

"I figured he was with that damn potato again."

Antonio sniffed his t-shirt, "Lov, does this smell clean to you?"

"You're disgusting," Lovino dropped his body onto the bed, "why can't Feli be here?"

"What do you have against Ludwig, mi vida?" Antonio tossed the shirt onto the floor, "I think he's not that bad of a guy—"

"You think he's not," Lovino interrupted, "but I see past his stupid face. Feli thinks this guy is 'so perfect' and wouldn't 'hurt anyone,' but that's bullshit. All I ever see him doing is yelling at mio fratello like he's some kind of dog! And it pisses me off!"

"Why don't you talk to Ludwig about it?"

"You think that potato lover will listen to a word I say?"

"Maybe?" Antonio shrugged, "doesn't hurt to ask. Besides, if he really was that bad of a guy, I don't think your hermano would be around him. Feli isn't dumb."

"Well, he sure as hell has you fooled," Lovino snickered.

"Mi vida," Antonio pleaded, "he probably sees something you don't. I mean he is with him more than you are. You don't know how they act when you're not there."

"Why are you siding with the potato?"

"I'm not siding with anybody," Antonio stretched, "I'm just trying to prove my point."

Antonio looked over to Lovino who now had his eyes shut, and shook his head. The one thing he did not understand about Lovino was why he despised Ludwig so much. Sure he was kind of loud and can be overbearing, but so was Gil. Yet Lovino and Gil were practically BFF's.

Besides it wasn't like Ludwig has ever harmed Feliciano, nor did it ever seem like he would. And Antonio felt that if he was that bad others would have noticed. Others would have said something. Sure some people don't get along with the German, but never once has anyone ever mentioned that he was a bad guy.

But it is Lovino – if he thinks one way, it's hard to sway his mind.

Antonio pursed his lips, "Lovi, if you had a feeling your hermano wasn't going to be here, why did you come?"

"Don't question me, idiota," Lovino groaned.

"No, seriously," Antonio sat beside Lovino, "Feli doesn't normally come out here unless it's with you or Luci anyways, so why come?"

Lovino covered his eyes with his arm, "are you just going to sit there?"

Antonio beamed, "I will until you tell me why you're really here."

Lovino removed his arm and his eyes blazed into Antonio's.

Antonio forced a laugh as he swayed his legs, "Apparently you must really like me in just a towel, mi vida."

"You're stupid," Lovino pushed Antonio's side.

Antonio leaned over the Italian, "Ahh, maybe you want Boss to take off his towel?"

Lovino shook his head, "the hell are you always so damn horny?"

"I am not," Antonio fell back, "Are you really not going to tell me?"

Lovino remained silent.

Antonio stretched his arms over his head as he looked up to the ceiling.

There was something on Lovino's mind, but not explaining what it was did not make Antonio's life any easier. However, Antonio knew that if he waited just long enough Lovino would come around – he always does.

Antonio felt the bed sink in beside him. He looked over and found Lovino propped up on his elbows, a small frown on his face.

"Mi vida," Antonio rolled on his side, "Qué paso?"

"Nothing," Lovino replied, "it's just . . . I've been thinking."

"That's not safe."

Lovino pushed his hand against Antonio's face, "You're a jackass."

"Lo Siento," Antonio giggled as he pulled Lovino's hand away, "Thinking about what?"

Lovino rolled his eyes, "I have been thinking about something, and I want you to be honest with me. If . . . if I were to do something way out of character, what would you do?"

Antonio blinked a few times and furrowed his eyebrows, "that's kind of a weird question—"

"Answer it."

"Okay, pero what exactly do you mean? Like you one day start singing and prancing like a fairy, or something?"

"No," Lovino shook his head, "I mean like . . . I don't know."

Lovino buried his face into the bedsheets.

"Mi vida," Antonio said as he rubbed Lovino's back, "what do you mean by that?"

Lovino turned his head, "I'm losing my mind."

"How come?"

"I don't know what I'm doing with my life . . ."

"Mi vida, you're still young. You'll figure things out once they come."

"But what if I don't?" Lovino propped himself up, "What if I don't account for anything, and I'm just some loser who relies on everyone else?"

"Lov, what does that matter?" Antonio gave a small smile, "Don't worry about what's to come. Last I checked, you live in the present not the future. Why worry about something that hasn't even happened yet?"

Lovino's eyes continued to blaze on, "Antonio, how do you do that?"

"Not worry about the future?" Antonio cocked his head to the side.

"No . . . ," Lovino's eyes fell, "you really should get some clothes on. Aren't you cold?"

"Nah," Antonio stood up and walked to his closet, "Pero since it's bothering you, wanna pick something for Boss to wear?"

"Dio mio," Lovino grumbled, "You can't seriously be that lazy."

Antonio turned around, "Oye, ven aquí."

A moment passed before Lovino stood up. He approached Antonio and peered into the closet.

A series of expressions flashed on the Italian's face as he searched through the clothes. Some moments his dark eyebrows would furrow and cause him to bite his lower lip. Other moments the corner of his mouth would curl and his eyes would illuminate.

Antonio trailed his eyes across the Italian's face – around his soft profile, along strands of his hair, across his soft lips.

Air struggled to fill Antonio's lungs. His heartbeat thumped behind his ribs. His hands trembled at his sides.

Lovino pulled out a white, long sleeved button up and held it before him. With a nod he thrust the shirt against Antonio's bare chest, then searched through the clothes once more.

Antonio looked at the shirt that now hung in his arms. He slipped through the sleeves, and took a breath. He had almost forgotten about this shirt. He'd had it for a while; it was surprising it still fit.

He looked up and noticed Lovino's eyes locked on him. Before he could say a word, Lovino stepped forward and grabbed the front of the shirt. Antonio felt the Italian's fingertips glide across the thin fabric, then linger on one of the buttons.

Antonio opened his mouth, but Lovino's smooth finger pressed against the Spaniards lips.

A sudden pang in his chest almost brought Antonio to his knees. His face burned, and he almost forgot what breathing was.

Antonio felt Lovino's finger slide down his chin as it made its way down his neck, then across his collarbone. Those amber eyes flashed up and stole Antonio's breath once more.

The more Antonio tried to keep his composure, the more he felt like screaming. Lovino wasn't acting like his . . . usual self.

That's when it hit him – is this what he meant earlier?

But of all things, why this?

A knot formed in the pit of the Spaniard's stomach. This could end in two ways:

Lovino would tease him, then leave him there

Or . . .

Antonio gritted his teeth as he felt his heartbeat rise.

It's now, or never.

He slid his arms around Lovino's waist and pulled him closer–his forehead pressed against the Italian's.

". . . Tonio," Lovino whispered as his arm's wrapped around Antonio's neck.

Not even a second later a loud ring caused both of them to jump.

Antonio looked over to his bedroom door and frowned.

Cock blocked by a doorbell of all things!

Antonio turned to Lovino, "umm . . . I wasn't expecting guests?"

Lovino pushed himself away, "get some damn clothes on!"

"Don't be mad at me!" Antonio shouted as Lovino opened the bedroom door.

"Clothes on, idiota." Lovino looked over his shoulder, "Doesn't matter if you expected someone or not!"

Antonio pulled out a pair of jeans from the closet, "Hey, once whoever is here leaves . . . do you want to–"

"Vaffanculo," Lovino smirked as he left.

Antonio laughed as he got dressed. Once he finished, he left his room and hopped down the stairs. He noticed Lovino sprawled over one of the couches, his eyes closed.

He sure got down quick.

Antonio opened the door and three men stood before him – all of which were his own workers. To the left stood a man by the name of Jesus. He had been in the company for quite some time now. He had to have almost been thirty by now, but he acted like a five-year-old. A huge smile was spread on his face.

Beside him stood José, another veteran worker. Antonio wasn't too sure how old he was – all he knew was that he was always grumpy about something.

Last but not least was Miguel. He was the same age as Antonio, but he'd been in the company since he was a teenager. Antonio had gotten to know him a little, but there was something about him that made him feel uneasy.

Maybe because he was always the first one to ask about his paycheck?

Or maybe because he wasn't much of a talker?

Of course Antonio was just being judgmental, but he couldn't help it – a lot of these guys were just plain weird.

"Señor," Jesus beamed as his messy ponytail bounced, "Buenos días!"

"Buenos días," Antonio forced a smile, "can I help you guys with something?"

"Sí, Señor," Jesus replied, "We wanted to inform you that one of the pipes busted in the field."

"You all had to tell me?" Antonio cocked his head.

"Well, no," Jesus smiled, "pero, here we are."

"Right. Well I'll make sure to get that fixed then," Antonio widened the door, "you can come in if you'd like. I've got to go look for my equipment."

The three men entered the house as Antonio walked over to his storage closet.

Again, these guys were weird.

Antonio rummaged through the closet until he found his tool bag. He pulled it out, and walked over to the group. As he approached them, he noticed that both Miguel and Jesus sat on either side of Lovino. The three of them were talking about some sort of . . . dessert?

Antonio placed his bag on the floor, and looked over to José.

He was leaning against one of the walls, staring out the window.

"José," Antonio called as he took out the tools, "don't you have the same tools to fix the pipes?"

José looked over to him, "I did, until pendejo over there threw them into a lake."

"Oye," Jesus laughed, "the gods demanded un sacrificio!"

"Jesus," Antonio groaned, "those tools are expensive."

"But the gods!" Jesus repeated.

Antonio shook his head as he handed the tools to José, "Por favor, don't let him touch these."

"I'll try what I can," José replied.

"Señor," Jesus chimed, "remember the other day when I asked if I could buy a confetti gun? Well, I bought one!"

"Still don't know why you asked for permission, but that's great to hear. . . I think."

"Well now that I have one, want to play a game conmigo? We can play hide-and-seek! You hide, and I'll seek!~"

Jesus grew hysterical as Miguel yelled at him.

"Pendejo," he shouted, "you laugh too much!"

"Oh!" Jesus said still laughing, "Señor! I heard that you and María don't know how to count!"

Antonio felt his eyes widen, "w-what are you talking about?"

"Aye, Señor! You don't have to play! I heard that you both keep messing up the money! Pero, it's fine as long as my paycheck doesn't change!"

Antonio's stomach lurched as he felt Lovino's eyes lock on him.

"Jesus," Antonio laughed, "you're crazy! We haven't messed up anything. What made you come up with that?"

"It's not made up," Jesus protested, "I heard her talk to you about it, Señor. Hey now, you're not trying to keep it all to yourself, are you?"

Jesus roared in laughter and Miguel stood up.

"Señor," He said as he lowered his dark eyes, "forgive him. I think he's had too much to drink."

"Está Bueno," Antonio scratched his neck, "but seriously, there isn't anything wrong with the money. Everything is fine."

Miguel nodded, "We know, Señor. Gracias por las herramientas. We'll get out of your hair now."

"It's fine," Antonio shook his head, "you can stay if you'd like."

"Gracias," José said, "pero, we need to get back to the field before it floods."

José walked over to the door and Miguel dragged Jesus behind him. Once the three of them left, Antonio locked the door and took a deep breath. He could still hear Jesus asking about that dumb game of his as Miguel continued to shut him up.

Those guys were gonna get him killed one day.

As soon as Antonio turned around Lovino's hand stung against his cheek.

"You fucking idiot!" Lovino shrieked.

Antonio rubbed his cheek, "Lovino, hear me out—"

"No, you listen to me," Lovino screamed as he pulled Antonio by the arm, "this is what you've been worried about? Something is wrong with the money?"

"Lov," Antonio pleaded, "mirar, it was just a little math error. No importa!"

"You're a terrible fucking liar!" Lovino growled, "why the hell didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want you to worry about it," Antonio found himself shout.

"Not worry about it?" Lovino scoffed, "So you were just going to keep it a secret and pretend like it was all going to go away?"

"Lovi, I'm telling you that it's nothing. It's just a small error. It's not a big deal!"

"Yes it is, idiot," Lovino lowered his voice.

"Why? Why is it so important? It's just money—"

"Idiot, it's your company's money! You're not supposed to let this kind of crap happen because you can get into huge trouble! All I need is for you to go bankrupt!"

"Lov, that won't happen. I have everything under control—"

"So you say," Lovino shook his head, "but what if something happens? What then?"

"Then I'll worry about it," Antonio sighed, "Lovi, don't stress over it. This is my problem."

"I don't care," Lovino's eyes fell, "I just don't want you struggling."

"Lov," Antonio tilted the Italian's head up, "Everything will be fine, mi vida. Lo siento. I should have told you, but I really did not want you to worry. You've already got a full plate."

"Not that full," Lovino pushed Antonio's chest, ". . . can I ask you something?"

"Anything," Antonio gave a weak smile.

". . .can you tell me things? I don't care what. You had a crappy day at work. You fired a guy because they smelled weird—"

"Because they smelled weird?" Antonio giggled.

"Just tell me," Lovino smiled, "Promessa."

"Aye, mi vida," Antonio kissed the Italian's nose, "yo prometo."

†††††

"I think I'm in love with Lovino," Antonio said as he plopped onto his couch.

Arthur sighed, "You tell me this almost every damned day, idiot."

"But I think this time is different! Like I think I'm in love with him!"

"Love is a phase for you, Antonio," Arthur crossed his legs, "before Lovino, weren't you so 'in love' with that blonde girl you know?"

"Emma?" Antonio crinkled his nose, "no, amigo! This is different! Like there isn't one moment that I don't think about him!"

"You're hopeless," Arthur shook his head, "besides, he's rude to you. Don't see why you'd want someone who degrades you on a daily basis."

"Arturo," Antonio pouted, "you don't see the Lovi I see. He's not rude. To be honest, he kind of reminds me of you—"

"Dear God," Arthur cut in, "did you suddenly forget our fall out?"

"Okay, not entirely like you," Antonio held up his hands, "he's just really stubborn like you are. And in order to really get to understand him, you have to let him open up at his pace!"

"Still believe you're wasting your time," Arthur shrugged, "but if you want to dive head first, by all means do as you wish. Just don't come crying to me once you burn."

"Arthur," Antonio responded, "maybe if you spent more time with him, you'd understand what I mean?"

"His attitude disturbs me," Arthur nagged, "and he hasn't a lick of manners."

"Arturo," Antonio begged as he slid to his knees, "por favor, ayúdame. Give him a chance. Besides if you got to know him, you'd be able to figure him out! You're good at that!"

"Get up, you child!"

"Por favor!"

"Good god, if it shuts you up then I'll consider it!"

"Gracias, amigo," Antonio shouted as he sprang up and smothered the Englishman.

"Unhand me, you ape!" Arthur screamed, "I said I'd consider it!"

"I'm telling you!" Antonio released him, "you'll see what I mean!"