[It had been a nice afternoon out; there was always something nice about treating himself to lunch. No pesky antlers anymore, no heat to worry about; just a nice afternoon with a bowl of soup and a cup of coffee and the excitement of going home to nap after. Because yeah, he's still tired. Not as tired as last month, but the first day after the three-moon cycle is always going to be a little rough.

Austria returns home, takes his shoes and pants off immediately, followed by his vest and tie, finally placing his glasses on the coffee table. He's headed straight for the bed when he walks into the room and sees Spain. With that damn cake.

He squints.]

...What?

[The last person he had sex with was Spain, what is this??

He stands there, frozen, completely puzzled.]

First of all, what are you doing bringing cake into the bedroom? Second -- did you make that? Or did you pay someone to make something so vulgar?

Third. Wh....what??