Fourteen: Spamano

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"Bonjour, mon amis~!" Francis waved as he came around the corner of the garden gate. Antonio was seated on the ground, playing with their dog Oliver. Lovino was gathering tomatoes for cutting and selling, shooing the dog away.

"Hola, Francis!" Spain smiled, waving back and tossing the tennis ball in his possession over near France. Oliver chased after it, almost knocking France to the ground. The blonde was quick and jumped over the dog. Prussia joined a moment later, smiling at his best friend. "Buenos dias, Gilbert."

"Guten morgen, Antonio." Gilbert tipped an imaginary hat, yelping when Oliver raced past him. "Mien gott!" He started laughing, walking over and seating himself on the ground beside Antonio. The Spanish man was pretty rounded, about seven months or so, and he wore a large red shirt.

"Tch." Romano was not being very friendly, glaring lasers into the other two countries that have invaded his home. He takes his basket of tomatoes to the house, using a faucet outside on the side to wash the fruit. Antonio rolled his eyes while smiling.

"Don't mind him. He's being a grumpy old man."

"Hey! I am not." He looks at them over his shoulder, carefully turning each tomato. "I just would- a have liked a call ahead." He was picky about who was in his domain, especially with Spain living here as well.

"We don't know your phone number." Prussia and France said, nearly unison. Lovino groaned, rolling his eyes.

"Why didn't you call Antonio then?" He was being over protective and he couldn't care less about who gave a damn.

"My unawesome phone is dead." Gil held up a phone with the Prussian flag on the back. "I don't have a charger..."

"And Parí stole mine. She said I need to get out more." Francis rolls his eyes, also taking a seat beside Antonio.

"Why here?" Lovino was considering throwing them out, but they were Antonio's friends so he refrained. For now.

"We came to see you and Spain!" France hugged the conquistador with gusto, squeezing his shoulders and putting Romano on edge. He must have looked angry because Gilbert said to lighten up.

"I'm done with all of you." He whistled for Oliver, heading to go inside with his prize tomatoes. He wore tight shorts and no shirt, the only reason Spain went outside with him.

"How did you get so lucky?" Francis asked, bemused that such a weak nation had great muscled. "He seems like a good catch."

"He is." Antonio said in a dreamy voice, giggling softly. "Lovi can be a stick in the mud sometimes. He means well though." He looks at the blonde next to him. "But what about Ralph? He seems like a great guy."

"Mm, he is. Very well built and a great football player. We've gone a round or two, if you know what I mean." France winks, Gilbert rolling his eyes.

"Of course the awesome one is the only one to top." He recieved a slap to the back of the head. "Ow! How mean!" He rubbed his head, looking at Francis with large red eyes.

"Remember what I said?"

"Ja, ja." Gil flipped a hand, shutting up as Lovino reenters the scene. The Italian was carrying a tray of glasses and a pitcher of a golden liquid. "Liquor?" Lovi snorts.

"How-a stupid do you take me for?" He pulls over a short table, setting the tray down and pouring four glasses of apple cider. "It's not liquor. It's apple cider." The three on the ground raise their glasses in thanks, Lovino joining them in their seating.

"What were you doing before?" Spain hadn't been watching, he was paying attention to Lovino's muscles.

"Picking tomatoes. I'm making lasagna with Feliciano later." He sipped his cider, Francis and Gilbert nodding along. "You two can-a stay if you don't make a mess." They share a look, Francis and Gil attack hugging him on both sides.

"Thank you, Lovino~."

"Ay! Now get-a off of me!"

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