I do not own Hetalia.
...
The first time Lovino Vargas met Alfred Jones, time didn't magically slow down like in the movies. But, he was rendered speechless for a good ten minutes before Feliciano introduced them to each other.
While his brother was telling him how they all became friends, Lovino was staring straight at the carefree yet slightly shy smile of the boy who was apparently younger than Feliciano by a year and him by two. When a pair of periwinkle blue dusted with brilliant shimmers met his own eyes, he realized that he had kept his gaze fixated to the boy all along. Instantaneously, he felt the blood rushed through his face like a flash flood. He wanted to swear at him, at them, for barging into their house, but the profanities and obscenities that he was so used to exhale like a carbon dioxide failed to come out. His heart was palpitating so much and the continuous and suddenly thunderous beating was the only thing that he could hear.
Luckily, Feliciano was there to break his impromptu stupefaction. "Fratello, are you okay?"
Lovino blinked at him, batting away the stupid trance he had gone to. "Whatever, bastards. Go make yourselves at home, I don't care," he grudgingly said in an act of hospitality before retreating to the confines of his room without a second glance to that boy.
But even though he didn't look at Alfred for the second time, his image was stuck at the back of Lovino's mind. He was unmistakably the most beautiful thing Lovino had ever seen, and coming from an art student, this was saying a lot. He hated it, though, because even the most exemplary and quintessential piece of artwork he had laid his eyes on had paled in comparison to the golden strands of hair that were so vibrant and smooth looking, the bright and twinkling eyes that were so full of life, the fair and silken cheeks that were dusted pink from being exposed to the sun rays, and those downright succulent lips that were hiding a perfect set of pearly white teeth. Everything about Alfred Jones was flawless in Lovino's eyes.
That was the day he cursed his heart for its ability to react against his will and fall in love at first sight.
The second time Feliciano brought his friends home, Lovino chose to hide on his room for the rest of the day, only coming out to fetch a glass of water with a nagging thought of 'Come on, notice me. I'm walking right in front of you, you should look at me, and I'm not going to look back because I'm not interested but you should be.'
He thought it was in human nature - a human in love, at least - to want to have the attention of his object of affection.
When he was back at his room, half of him regretted that he didn't look at Alfred while the other half felt accomplished for successfully not looking, even though his purpose was to gain some attention. He wondered what the boy's first impression of Lovino was. Did he think he was cool or did he think he was too irritable? Was he curious about him like Lovino was? Had he asked Feliciano about him? Had they talked about him? Or maybe, Alfred only regarded him as a friend's brother and nothing more, or worse, maybe he didn't even give Lovino a second thought after being introduced that first time.
Lovino felt quite foolish, but he couldn't help himself from having these thoughts. No matter how much he willed his mind to stop its musing, it was still drifting to all the delusional assumptions with Alfred as the subject. It was as if his mind was there with them even though his body was here in his room, he couldn't concentrate at all. Just the thought of being in the same roof as that boy was enough to blow his brains and overwhelm him and he didn't like it all.
When Feliciano informed him that his friends were leaving, he didn't vacate his room to bid them goodbye, but he allowed himself to peek from his bedroom window. Then he saw him, Alfred Jones in the flesh, smiling happily without any knowledge that someone up above was following him with such intensive gaze. The dashing smile he so freely bestowed upon his friends made Lovino's heart flutter in an abnormal pace.
He swallowed the enormous lump on his throat and closed his curtains with a hiss while cursing about everything that was not Alfred.
The third time Feliciano's circle of friends came over, Lovino was not informed. So it was an absolute and utter surprise that when there was a knock on his bedroom door, he opened it and found the boyish yet still pretty face of Alfred Jones, peering ever so expectantly at him.
"Uh... hi," Alfred greeted him tentatively, a bit of unaccounted timidness lacing his voice.
"What do you want?" he greeted back in an icy tone, his eyes immediately scrutinizing Alfred's nervousness. Why was he nervous, was Lovino intimidating him, perhaps?
"Um, yeah sorry to disturb you but Feli asked me to tell you dinner's ready and I hope you don't mind that we'll be joining you guys again," he said before giving Lovino a sheepish smile.
Lovino breathed, involuntarily inhaling the unfamiliar but not at all unwelcome scent in front of him, and realized that Alfred was in a very close proximity as him, they were practically face-to-faced and that alone was enough for a full-blown blush to form on his face. He couldn't control it, Alfred triggered his overly strong emotions to heighten and caused the blood vessels in his face to widen. It wouldn't shock him to find his cheeks in a ridiculously red color that could rival his favorite tomatoes no matter how ripe they were. He could feel the heat, after all.
"Oh, your face is really red. Are you sick?" Alfred extended his hand to touch Lovino's forehead, but before they could even make contact, Lovino panicked and quickly swatted the hand away.
Or so he thought until it registered to him that his hand had moved on its own volition and instead of slapping the privy hand, he found his fingers tightly securing Alfred's wrist mid-air. "Don't touch me," Lovino said hypocritically, though in his defense, he wasn't aware that he was touching Alfred until he felt the faint and steady beating of a pulse just right above his thumb. He could also feel through the pads of his fingers the warmth that emanated from the skin to skin contact. It's kind of unconvincing but it seemed as though his senses were enhanced in a certain level. Alfred's wrist was neither thick nor lanky, but it was in between strong and delicate and Lovino was detesting the fact that he couldn't seem to release it from his hold.
Alfred was lightly chewing the inside of his lower lip and it took all of Lovino's self-possession to stop himself from biting those lips with his own teeth instead. Actually, he wanted to do more than that. He wanted to pull the boy inside his room and push him down his bed or pin him against the wall, he wanted to lick and taste every crevice of his mouth, he wanted to touch and explore every part of his body and— Goddamnit, he needed to stop.
"I'm fine, just eat without me." He briskly let go of Alfred's wrist as if he was scalded and closed his door before his restraints would loosen and he could do something unthinkable.
It was already bad enough that he was crushing over his brother's younger friend, what made it worse was that he was lusting after him too, what with all these indecent thoughts that he didn't think he was capable of having. He didn't remember his feelings being this proactive when he was adoring that older girl from Belgium, and he had thought that was love. This was new yet non-foreign, like it was all natural and instinctive and he was only discovering the deepest and most submerged part of him, which was still him.
Nevertheless, he needed to stop this atrocity this instant, if not for the sake of Alfred, then at least for the sake of his self-preservation.
Stopping this, as it turned out, was certainly nonviable, if not outright impossible.
Alfred had become a regular visitor of the Vargas house along with the small group of Feliciano's friends. They were helping each other, his brother had said, like a group study and Alfred was an essential part of it because he was apparently a genius in Maths and Sciences, despite being their junior. Lovino had berated Feliciano for asking help from someone younger than him, but only half-heartedly because the stupidly infatuated part of him was thrilled with the idea.
They've also been interacting now, exchanging greetings and remarks like any normal friends would. Alfred didn't feel intimidated by him anymore so he talked to him with a considerable amount of enthusiasm that Lovino would only respond with a grunt or a scowl, but that was already as great as a communication anyone could get from him. It was a good thing that the boy seemed well-versed in taking his meaningless insults and bad-mouthing.
What wasn't a good thing, however, was him acting, albeit only he knew, foolishly in love.
He had skipped one of his major subjects once because he wanted to be at home when Alfred would come over alone. He wanted to be the one to open the door to welcome him and see his surprise look when he realized that it was Lovino who was opening the door for him. He wanted to see the excitement that would cross that pretty face of his as he gave his host a grateful smile. Naturally, Lovino would only glower at him in response, but that was still good enough.
He also had put an end to hiding on his room whenever they were around. He would get his art supplies and settle himself on the dining table while leaving behind the advantages of having a drafting desk perched on his room just so he could silently show his artistic skills off. Sure enough, it had made Alfred curious when he saw all his practitioner materials and had watched him sketch once or twice. Again, Lovino would swear and shoo him away, but the fact that he had piqued Alfred's inquisitiveness made it a huge success.
There was also this one time when Lovino insisted he would be the one to cook dinner this one night because he was bored and he got nothing to do even though in reality, he had an impending research paper due for the next day. He had wished for Alfred to have a taste of his incredibly remarkable cooking skills once and for all and add it to the list of things Lovino Vargas, his friend's brother, was awesome with. He would have to pull an all-nighter later and suffer the consequence of his silly antics, but while he was watching Alfred gobble the Baked Ziti and Meatball Parmigiana (that were secretly seasoned for his taste) down to the last chunk, he couldn't think about anything else.
He had done things worthy to be shameful of, and the worst part of it? Lovino would regret all his actions merely a few seconds after he had done it because he would immediately come to his senses and would become aware that all and every thing were for naught. Oh, how he loathed it.
Alfred Jones was like a bad drug to him. He would always find himself succumbing and giving in to the temporary joy and really short-lived pleasure of their little interactions. They were bad for him, he knew that, they always left him hollow and empty afterwards. But he couldn't make himself to stop, he couldn't control what his heart desired. He was addicted, he was strung out on it and he was living on a vice where the connection he had with Alfred was the only thing that mattered. That boy should be illegal, he was deadly for Lovino.
Just when Lovino was getting used to being bipolar whenever Alfred was involved, his brother did something very out of his character—Feliciano confronted him.
The thing was, Feliciano wasn't really ignorant about the whole ordeal. The idiot seemed to be conscious of the root of his brother's behavior and his true purpose was to make Lovino say it out loud. In other words, to admit it and accept it. Sometimes, he was just amazed by his brother's unexpected perceptiveness.
"Fratello, do you like Alfred?"
"No," was the automatic answer that came out. He had set it off suspiciously too fast as though he had been rehearsing it before and to be honest, he had. But it was in his instinct to rise up a prepared reply with anything regarding his obsessions and to say that he didn't liked Alfred, hated him even, was not a lie at all since the opposite of love was not hate, it was indifference. And when it came to Alfred, Lovino was anything but indifferent.
Feliciano hummed. He released a certain vibration from his throat that annoyed Lovino not because the buzz was irritating but because the implication of it was. "Are you in love with him?"
Since his brother was probably expecting him to deny it, Lovino didn't want to give him the satisfaction of having the authority to exploit something that he already knew. So instead, he gave him a surprisingly straight answer, "...Yes."
The younger Vargas was indeed surprised, judging from the way he opened his mouth only to close it again in a beat. His eyes had also softened and Lovino assumed it was because he didn't expect his tsundere brother to admit it, but now that he had, it would only mean that it should be taken seriously. Feliciano sighed, completely abandoning the attitude that denoted he knew something. "Why don't you ask him—"
"Shut up Feli, don't you dare finish that sentence!" Lovino hissed, effectively severing his brother's suggestion.
"Ve? But why, fratello?"
Lovino frowned at him. He gave Feliciano an incredulous glare that silently questioned his rationality. It was obvious that nothing would yield in him doing a humiliating thing such as that, Lovino was well-aware of that and as his brother and Alfred's friend, Feliciano should know that, as well. He had done a great amount of disgraceful things for acting out on his feelings, there was no way that he would further mortify his dignity at all, not when he could already predict the outcome.
He might not be a genius, but Lovino wasn't stupid at all. What were the chances that Alfred would like him back? If it wasn't close to zero then he really didn't know. Hell, he wasn't even sure if he wanted to have a relationship with him. He loved Alfred, he wanted him so bad, but half of the reason was only because of his make-believe fantasy that he had been furnishing on the boy's character. He didn't even know him that well. What if he was actually different from what he had imagined, of what he had pictured of him? He liked his overall personality, but what if he was hiding something very deep inside of him that Lovino didn't know and his true self was actually really nasty? His dreams would crumble, his delusions would shatter and his heart would break.
Releasing a long exhale, Lovino faced his brother and eyed him sternly. "Because he'll break my heart."
This time, it was Feliciano who frowned at him. He might be confused, he might be upset, Lovino didn't know, but he was being subjected to an exasperated look mixed with uncertainty. "Fratello, Alfred wouldn't do that."
"Yeah? And how would you know that?!" he retaliated in response while trying not to snap at his brother. He knew Feliciano only meant well, but sometimes, he was really getting under his nerves.
"Ve~ because Alfred likes you, you know."
Lovino blinked once, crinkled his eyebrows and searched for Feliciano's dumbness. He didn't find it. "What?"
"He is always looking forward to coming over here because he wants to see you, fratello. I thought you already know that."
Lovino blinked again, twice this time, and averted his gaze from his brother. "He does?" he quietly whispered as if the answer would depend on the volume of his voice. If it was low, then the answer would be a yes but if shouted, then Feliciano would say he was only joking.
But Feliciano didn't speak, instead, he nodded his head furiously while giving Lovino his sincerest smile, implying that he should trust him with this. It made his eye twitch a little bit because this was unbelievable. He was just having a monologue a while ago about him being not stupid for concluding that Alfred would never like him back, but now, there were apparently signs and gesticulations that signified Alfred's interest on him. Well, in his defense (again since he felt like he should defend himself), he was so busy being in love with him to notice them at all.
But wait, there was still this problem of not knowing him well enough. Even though Lovino was in love with him, giving him his full trust wouldn't be advisable. At least in that matter, Lovino was still sensible. "But I don't know him that well," he said to his brother, purposely coating his tone with a lot of hesitation.
"Then you should get to know him more! Ve~ don't worry, fratello, I'll set your first date up, you can chat over a good coffee, just talk and have a great time."
Lovino furrowed his brows even more in concentration as he thought it over. Was that a good idea? He definitely would want to go on a date with Alfred but he still had some symptoms to fight whenever he was in the presence of that boy. He would blush like crazy, sometimes his heart would palpitate so much and his nerves would threaten to burst on him. They were like an allergic symptoms and sooner or later, he would find himself dying because of it and it would all be that boy's fault. That said, could he go on a date alone with him? He should objectively weigh his options a bit more.
He failed to realize that his brother was already executing his plans until he heard an alert tone from the mobile phone on his hand. Lovino eyed it suspiciously and waited for Feliciano to finish whatever he was doing with it. "Ve! He said yes! Friday, 3 pm on that café across the university. Good luck, fratello!"
"Wait, what?! You asked him already, you bastard?"
"Ve~ yes, fratello, and I think he's excited too," Feliciano replied and as he fixed his attention back to his phone, he didn't see the angry looking eyes that could burn anything, though Feliciano was long immune to that after being at the receiving end for several times already.
That said, it still didn't deter Lovino from trying to burn his brother with his fury. "I hate you."
Lovino knew this was a bad idea. He couldn't act like a sane person. Why was it so hard to wait for a few minutes before three o'clock without fidgeting on his seat. This wasn't even the first time he would be on a date with someone, granted he had had a share of his relationships before. So why now did he want to jump from unconstrained anticipation and anxiousness? Why did Alfred make any difference?
Oh yeah, he was in love with him—like truly, madly, crazy in love with him. Damn it.
"Hi."
The familiar voice woke him up from his internal discussion and made him swallow the sudden lump on his throat while mustering the courage to look up at the owner of the said voice. He almost couldn't due to the reason of feeling the heat flooding his cheeks just by hearing that voice.
Without lifting his head, his eyes took their time to gaze upward where Alfred was still standing. When they finally made eye-contact, Lovino's jaw immediately slackened.
Alfred was wearing a button-down polo opened to reveal a plain white shirt that had the perfect fit to hug his body, his hair was a bit blown to the side and was being reflected by the sun to highlight the golden locks, his forehead was glistening with a thin layer of sweat and his eyes—they were the clearest Lovino had ever seen of them. Overall, Alfred looked casual and simple but still effortlessly breathtaking.
"Sorry, I just got out from class. How are you?" Alfred asked and Lovino had half the decency to not wet his lips from the instant hunger that came over him as he watched the boy take the seat across from him.
Then, suddenly, it was the same as the day he first laid his eyes upon him when he couldn't find his voice and his stare was embarrassingly fixated, unblinking and intense, to Alfred's face. He made an attempt to nod his head, just to indicate he was still with him. Alfred's expression turned confused, his lips curling downwards. That's when Lovino's brain decided to malfunction and breach his brain-to-mouth filter, blurting out the last thing that he should be saying, "I love you."
"W-what?" Alfred voiced out in abruptness, his eyes widening a fraction and his cheekbones coloring with what Lovino assumed as second-hand embarrassment because Lovino was totally doing something completely embarrassing and he had to seat right across from him and witness it. Yeah, that.
"I'm in love with you, damn it." What the fuck am I saying? "I don't even know why but I want you so bad I can't concentrate. I can't even act like myself. I want to kiss you, I want to touch you, I want to—"
"Woah there," Alfred stopped him, luckily, before he could even finish another embarrassing confession. Seriously, what had gotten into him? "I get it, I get that you, you know, you l-lo— that you have feelings for me, I understand, you don't have to finish that anymore, thank you very much."
Lovino buried his face on his palms in bout of endless shame. Shit, shit, shit! This wasn't supposed to turn this way. Those weren't supposed to be first thing he should say to Alfred. He wasn't supposed to act like an inglorious fool. "Fuck, sorry. I really hate this." He had the impression that the boy was blushing like crazy, but he couldn't lift his head, he couldn't face Alfred now.
"Uh, you... hate it?" Alfred's voice was low, so low it resulted Lovino to pause his inner musings and self-deprecating moment. He swallowed another lump on his throat that never seemed to cease from appearing.
"I despise it," he whispered admittedly, not even making sure if Alfred heard him.
A moment of awkward silence had passed before Alfred asked another question in that same low voice of his. "Do you hate me, then?"
Lovino eventually released his face from his palm to look at the blank expression that Alfred was currently sporting. He seemed tense, too, and downcast as though he was dejected. Why? Lovino found he didn't like that look at all. "I'm— I just... hate the fact that I love you," he responded, hoping against all odds that it would lift the boy's spirits.
However, instead of elevating his mood, it apparently had the opposite effect. Alfred looked even more forlorn now and he was evidently avoiding Lovino's eyes. "Oh," he said before pursing his lips into a thin line. Then, still not making eye-contact, he stood from his seat. "I'll just get us some coffee," he spoke in finality and went to the counter.
Lovino felt another lump on his throat, but this time, he couldn't even swallow it back. It was just there and it was restricting his windpipe, he couldn't breathe. His chest was so heavy, his heart was pounding so hard and had he not been biting his lips, they would be trembling right now because of the heaping restlessness and anxiety. He mess it up, didn't he? He gave the wrong answer, he shouldn't have said that, but how could he not hate it, he was practically losing control of himself because of this love. He was going insane and he couldn't even do something about it.
He was left in their table alone for only about ten minutes, but it certainly felt like a century to him. His uneasiness sprung him to escape from the reality in any way possible, but he couldn't simply ditch Alfred here, not when he already caused him to be gloomy. But that's precisely why I need to go, I made him sad, damn it, I made Alfred sad and I don't know what to do. I really, really hate this but I never wanted to make Alfred sad. Fuck, what do I do?
When Alfred came back, he was holding a cup of latté macchiato for Lovino and a cappuccino frappe for himself. "I hope you don't mind my choice. I heard from Feli that you like it."
A surge of guilt flashed through Lovino's nerves at the statement because it proved that Alfred had really showed an interest to him, if knowing what he liked was any indication at all. He accepted the drink and mumbled, "Yeah, thanks."
Alfred was still avoiding his gaze, or at least he was when Lovino was looking at him, but he was starting up a few conversations now in an attempt to ease the uncomfortable and heavy atmosphere. Lovino was also trying hard, he was trying to bring Alfred back to his normal self—the one that was genuinely happy about just anything and everything, the one who couldn't stop talking, the one who always laughed and made jokes, the one who smiled the brightest and made Lovino's heart race in a good way. But as to be expected, he was failing miserably.
They talked quite awkwardly for the rest of their coffee date and instead of obtaining his purpose of getting to know Alfred more, he had only acquired a knowledge about himself and that would be the certainty that more than anything else in this world, he hated seeing Alfred so unhappy.
"Fratello," Feliciano called, his voice bringing him out from his state of melancholy. He felt depressed, he certainly was depressed. Weeks had passed and his coffee date with Alfred hadn't been followed with another one and the boy was clearly avoiding him, he hadn't seen him since that afternoon even though their group studies were still ongoing. "How are you and Alfred?"
Not for the first time, Lovino had his pre-planned response so it didn't take him two seconds to rebut. "I'm fine, Feli, I don't know about him. Why the fuck are you asking me? He's your friend, you should know."
"But fratello~ I just want to know if something happened between the two of you. What happened that time?"
"Nothing happened," Lovino deadpanned. And nothing will ever happen between us anymore because— He stopped. He was extremely tired of blaming himself.
"Then why is he avoiding you? He's always finding an excuse not to come here anymore and he's evading my questions involving you. And fratello, why do you look so depressed if nothing happened?" His brother eyed him with such gentleness, he draw closer to him as if he was ready to hug Lovino anytime just because he appeared like he was in the verge of breaking. Maybe he was.
"I don't know, Feli. Seriously, I don't know anymore. It was my fault but I really don't know what to do to fix it," he spoke in an undertone, letting his tears to ultimately roll down his eyes as he received one of his brother's infamous hug therapy.
"It's okay, Lovi, we'll fix it. It's okay."
Lovino was still in utter glum. He couldn't go back to his old always-irritated self because he didn't have the energy and motivation to be something other than miserable and lifeless. Even when he had a legit reason to be angry, he just couldn't bring himself to exert an effort. It surprised a lot of his peers, especially those who were close to him, but not his brother.
Feliciano said he would help, but things got busy and their studies were put in top priority, so Lovino had to endure a hell week with a broken heart and spirit.
And then just when the winter break was approaching, he saw Alfred in a crowded auditorium. There were numerous mop of blonds, brunettes and ravenettes occupying the said place, but Lovino could easily distinguish the shade of blond from Alfred's hair, plus, that unique and stubborn cowlick was as good as a name tag for him. He was only a couple of feet away from him, but it was full of moving people and they were already on their way out so calling him would've been a futile shot. Moreover, what would he even say to him?
Lovino took a step towards the mass of students, then paused for a moment, then took another step. He looked ridiculous, he knew that, but he was really in turmoil over what to do. Then, when he peeked at that wheat-blond again, he found himself eye-to-eye with Alfred.
Alfred, too, seemed surprised to find Lovino there, but he still gave him a smile that obviously didn't reach his eyes. However, before he could even greet him back, Alfred was already out of Lovino's sight. It had happened so fast that he momentarily questioned himself if it was all just an imagination. Hopefully, it wasn't.
He should be washed over with relief for seeing Alfred again, right? Or maybe he should feel a little angry for disappearing on him like that and for simply being avoided for several weeks already, but instead, Lovino felt even more down-hearted because why did Alfred look just as miserable as him? Shouldn't he be happy that he was successful in steering clear of Lovino? He should be back to his carefree self now that Lovino was basically out of his life. So why was he still sad?
Why was Alfred really avoiding him?
After another full week of misery and plain wretchedness, the day that Feliciano's fruit of labor had finally come. His promise to help him led them to the present situation in which Lovino was to patiently wait for Alfred to come over in only about a few minutes later and to see him.
To say that he was anxious was such an understatement, his nerves were in messy shambles and disarray and he could feel various and assorted emotions all at once. He didn't know what kind of measure Feliciano had to take to convince Alfred to see him but whatever it was, he was grateful for it. He needed to remember to thank his brother later with a month supply of pasta.
Another matter that he needed to do was to make sure that he wouldn't complicate things this time. He needed to convey his feelings properly and orderly in a manner that wouldn't creep the hell out of that boy. He should control his mouth from abruptly spouting his hidden desires (they were hidden for a reason, after all) and he really should ask Alfred, frankly and directly, what he thought of him and his feelings. If it turned out that he didn't feel the same as him, then okay, he could accept that. But at least, he had to clarify why he was equally miserable or else he wouldn't be able to move on.
He really needed to act rightly this time because this opportunity wouldn't come around ever again. It was now or never.
Eventually, ultimately, at long last, a soft knock on their front door resonated like a chime of melodious sounds. Lovino took a deep breath and with a renewed determination, he slowly opened the door.
There Alfred was, standing in his dashing glory, ready to sweep Lovino off of his feet merely by breathing. "Hi."
"You jerk, why are you avoiding me?" was what came out from Lovino's mouth even after all the practice he performed earlier. Damn it, it seemed like he really couldn't act like a decent person in front of him, that was really not a good way to greet someone at all, wasn't it?
He was about to apologize for his behavior when he noticed that Alfred was also in muddles. "Um, I'm really sorry... I just," he bit his lip and contemplated, appearing as though he was organizing his thoughts. Lovino gave him his full attention as Alfred took his time. "You said you hated that you love me, I just figured that you... that you wanted to just forget about me and move on so I kept my distance. I was trying to give you space."
"Do you hate me, bastard?" he asked and Alfred looked at him in disbelief, likely about to say something but Lovino spoke again, "do you not like me?"
"Oh God, Lovino..." he trailed and gave Lovino a chance to savor the sound of his name in Alfred's voice, "I don't want you to hate me. You said you despise it and I saw that you really mean it. I really don't want you to end up hating me and that's because I like you, you know."
Lovino nodded his head in understanding, then he sighed in relief because the truth was now revealed. All he had to do was to right his wrongdoings and state his intentions. "I love you, Alfred, please go out with me."
Alfred was shocked at first before he was confused. "But I thought you—"
"Yes, you're right, I hated it, I really did and sometimes I still do, but I found something that I hated even more than that. I don't want to see you sad, I never wanted to hurt you, Alfred. Besides, I've learned to accept it, all these feelings were only possible for me to have because the love I have is profound and complete. I'm so deeply in love that I feel like I'm getting drowned with different kinds of sensation, but the root of it is you and you alone." Lovino lowered his gaze due to the flood of embarrassment that came to him not for the first time because of his mouth. He was totally becoming an overly sappy and excessively romantic person, Alfred would get weirded out again.
"I'm glad," Alfred said suddenly and the tone of his voice, which he missed so much, was the same as back when they first met. It was lively and it captivated Lovino all over again. "Oh and yeah, I'd love to go out with you, I've been wanting to, really," he added and offered him the sweetest smile Lovino had ever seen.
Then suddenly, he couldn't think about anything anymore. His rational thoughts had ran away, as well as the chivalry that he vowed to display, all he could discern was the eyes that were lighting up his world, the lips that were inviting him to taste, the skin that was tempting him to touch and the boy in front of him that he had been desiring so terribly much. He licked his lips in anticipation and hope, not tearing his gaze away from Alfred's sparkling eyes. How are they even sparkling? Well, how ever it was, he left it alone and leaned closer so he could at least plant a kiss on Alfred's lips.
He didn't succeed with that, however, as Alfred immediately stopped him. With a confused look mixed with an abundant amount of impatience, Lovino stared at him hard enough to compel him to explain.
"Sorry, I just... I mean, we're still in the doorway."
Lovino rolled his eyes and pulled him in. He closed the door non too gently and practically manhandled Alfred, hauling him and tugging him all the way to his room. Inside, he briskly slammed the door and bolted the lock, then he pushed Alfred against it and raised a brow at him. "There, fine now?"
"I don't know, I— I've never done any of this before, I don't know what to do." The look that Alfred gave him could only be interpreted as nervousness. It was endearing, yes, but it was also adding to the frustration that Lovino was feeling right now. "I'm, you know, 'never been kissed, never been touched' kind of guy."
"You're kidding." Lovino gawked at him, he didn't know whether to laugh or be amazed by it, but he felt kind of smug in more reasons than necessary.
Alfred frowned and averted his gaze, completely avoiding Lovino's searching ones. "What can I do, this is the first time I've liked someone," he muttered under his breath that Lovino fortunately still heard.
He felt a wave of pure bliss overcome him, a sense of achievement, like he had just won something with great value. But he knew that this—Alfred wasn't just some thing that he could brag. He was someone precious to him, a priceless treasure, a cherished loved one. He felt contented. Being happy meant being contented, wasn't it? So that was exactly him.
"You're cute," Lovino remarked as he smirked at Alfred, causing the boy to give him a scandalous look, but it didn't stop him from advancing furtherer. "Don't worry, I'll be gentle."
...
I'm accepting all forms of reaction, from calm and normal to bloody and trashy, just send me a review if you have some. Thanks a lot for checking it out!
A/N: Being in love isn't always positive, is it? But the negatives, too, are a part of that so called love. (Not that I really know 'cause I've never been in love before. Heh.)
