Lovino walked out of the room, disgusted at the way his brother hung all over the potato bastard. It sickened him, it really did. Not so much because they were both men, he didn't really care about that, but at the fact it was the German, he just knew he was using his poor innocent little Feliciano. It didn't help that the only other place that was left for him to go was Antonio's. The Spaniard pissed him off to no end, although he cooked a hell of a meal. So he trudged to his house, a very foul mood overcoming him. It was made worse when he had to dodge that French sonuvabitch. God, how that creep terrified him. A truly delicious smell made its way to him, a mouthwatering delectable smell, just as he reach Spain's door. Could it be? The Italian flung open the door, and ran for the kitchen. It was! Oh God, it really was! There were delicious tomatoes!

"Ah, Romano! I see you found the tomatoes...Would you like some? They will be ready soon." He nodded in reply, waiting impatiently for the other to finish cooking. He was bombarded by Antonio's scent as the man's arms circling around him to place the dish on the table. He inhaled, enchanted by the smell of spice, musk, and tomato. When he realized what he was doing he scowled and pushed the Spaniard away.

"Damn bastard! I'm not gay!" He failed to notice Antonio's look of unhappiness, too caught up in scarfing down the tomato laden food. Later, when he searched for the Spanish nation, he found him on his bed, looking depressed. "Spain? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Lovino." Normally, he would have been up and hugging the Italian tightly, almost to the point he couldn't breathe. Antonio also never actually called him by his name unless something bad had happened, therefore there had to be something bothering the other man, not that he really cared, it was just for the cooking.

"Bonjour!" Lovino quickly tackled Antonio and hid behind him, hoping he would protect him. "Ah, Spain, I see you have company. In your bed no less!" For once, the oblivious nation seem to catch on, and his expression became stony.

"Don't you dare speak of Lovino like that! He is precious to me, yes, but if he does not wish it, then I will never do something of that nature!" Francis was startled by this development and backed out. He muttered his goodbyes, realizing that Lovino must have said something to make the normally calm man so aggravated. "I wouldn't even have a chance, Lovino's not interested..." He looked down dejectedly, forgetting that the aforementioned male was in the room with him. "I love him..." Lovino looked up startled and really looked at the man who had raised him. Antonio was handsome, cheerful, and passionate. The look of sadness didn't suit him, and Lovino told himself that what he was about to do was only because Spain needed to be happy so he would get more tomatoes.

A second later, Lovino was pinned to the bed with a very enthusiastic Antonio on top of him. He pulled back, grinning widely. "Shut up bastard, just keep kissing me."