A/N: Herrooo! :D Welcome to my very, very first published story on the Net! I decided to try it out, so I hope this short story turned out alright for you guys. Hope you enjoy, and give me some feedback, too! Constructive criticism is good in moderation!
A/N 2: Please ignore my username. I'm actually a really nice person. Really. I am. c: I'M CANADIAN. YOU BETTER FUCKING BELIEVE I'M NICE. WE'RE THE NICEST FUCKING PEOPLE ON THIS FUCKING PLANET.
A/N 3: Would this be classified as RomaSpa? I hope so lol. It's still Spamano baby 3
Disclaimer: Goddamn, I really wish I owned Hetalia. So many sexy guys, eeeh. 3
~ Charlie
A tanned arm falls over the edge of the red plaid couch as Lovino Vargas squished his face further into the pile of pillows under his head. There was no other word to describe him as but utterly exhausted. He was definitely not in the mood to talk to anybody today…with the exception of maybe his boyfriend.
But then Lovino thought about that for a second. Him, exhausted, letting Antonio into his house. Him. Letting Antonio come in. Antonio.
Who in their right mind would allow some loud, obnoxious, way too happy little freak into their home when they're already in a pissy mood?
Well…Lovino would. Maybe. He hadn't seen Antonio in a few days, anyways, so maybe. Maybe.
Breaking the young Italian from his thoughts, ear-piercing vibrating sounds came from the coffee table, making Lovino flinch and squeeze his eyes shut.
Fucking hell. It was at this precise moment that some moron decided to phone him.
The Italian, obviously, didn't immediately make a grab for his phone. He let it ring for a moment or two, hoping it was just his stupid best friend Arthur (who Antonio didn't like him hanging around with, for some weird reason), or his other best friend Matthew. Whoever it was, they hopefully could take the hint that Lovino didn't want to be talked to right now.
The phone finally stopped ringing, but before the young man could sigh in relief, the damned thing started buzzing again.
Fucking shitting fuck. Now Lovino was really sure it was Antonio calling him. The Spaniard liked to call up to a minimum of three times if Lovino didn't pick up on the first call, that cute, annoying dumbass.
With a dramatic, long-suffering sigh, the Italian outstretched his arm, clumsily fumbling for his phone. He found it, grabbed it, and raised it to his head to press it against his ear.
"Speak."
"Hi, Lovi!" A sweet, Spanish-accented voice chirped.
Ugh. It really was him.
"Ew, it's Antonio," Lovino teased, only being half serious.
A giggle came from the other end of the call.
"Can I come over today, Lovi-Wovey?:
"Oh, God, no. Especially not after calling me Lovi-Wovey."
"Aww, pleeease? Pretty, pretty, pretty pleeease?"
Lovino made a face at the annoying whining the Spaniard made (he refused to admit it was cute even in the slightest, even when it was).
"No."
"Aww." You could practically hear the pout coming from the other side. For some reason, it made Lovino's heart fill up with guilt.
He rolled his eyes and sighed. So much for his quiet day.
"Fucking fine. Come over. Just keep your damn voice down…and bring me Subway."
"Yay! I'm going to Lovi's house! Whee~!" Again, you could hear the million-watt grin that was most likely on Antonio's face right now. "What kind of sub would you like?"
"Steak and cheese. Italian flatbread. Monterey Jack."
"Okay! I'll be there soon, my lovely Lovi~! Mmmwah~"
For the first time today, Lovino cracked a smile. Antonio really was really cute.
"See you soon, babe. Love you."
"Love you, too, Lovi~"
Click. End of call.
The Italian sighed for the trillionth time today, turned off his phone, and placed it back on the coffee table. Maybe he'll feel better when Antonio comes over. After all, his boyfriend was an extremely good cuddler, and Lovino liked to take that to his advantage.
"Loviiiiii~ I'm heeeere~"
Knock, knock, knock.
The Italian turned his head so his cheek was pressed against the pillow under his head, and groggily opened an eye.
"It's open," He called, and he felt a slight burning sensation in his throat after he said that. Probably his strained vocal chords; he hadn't talked much to anyone in the past few days.
The door flew open, and it seemed like Lovino just so happened to fall in love with Antonio…again.
He wouldn't admit this out loud to anybody, but his boyfriend was possibly the best looking thing on this goddamn planet. He was the nearest thing to perfection in Lovino's eyes, whether it was just personality-based or in looks.
Antonio beamed at the Italian, sandwich bag in hand, looking absolutely gorgeous in his deep red, almost wine-coloured sweater and black sweater. It wasn't anything special, but the Spaniard looked good in anything.
"I got your sandwich, Lovi!" Antonio announced cheerfully.
"It was really awkward in Subway, you know. There was this pretty girl in line there, but she was a little bit weird, though, 'cause I could see her looking at me while she was waiting for her sandwich, and when I tried to look at her, she would look away. And then I tried to make conversation, so I said, 'Oh, it's a beautiful day outside, isn't it?' and she said, 'Oh, yes, the weather's really nice, and very...hot', and she did a pause, just like that, and I think she was trying to hint at something, but I don't know what she meant by that, so it was just really weird and awkward after that. What do you think she meant by that, Lovi?"
Only have of Antonio's story registered in Lovino's mind (probably because he was still checking the Spaniard out), so when he realized his boyfriend had asked him a question, he tore his eyes away from the gorgeous young man's body to meet twinkling emerald eyes.
"She probably thought you were really annoying," The Italian replied nonchalantly, and turned over onto his back on the couch. He was pleased to see an adorable pout cross Antonio's perfect, pretty lips.
"Lovi, I don't think she meant that."
"I think she did. You're really, really annoying."
"Loviiiii, that's mean," His Spanish boyfriend whined, taking off his shoes before stepping into the Italian's living room.
"It's not called being 'mean', it's called being 'rational'," Lovino replied smoothly, watching his boyfriend set his sandwich down on the coffee table. "You're weird, and annoying, and loud. And you stink, too. Like, a lot."
That made Antonio giggle. It always made Lovino smile when he heard that musical laughter.
"I don't stink, Lovi," Antonio giggled, and he instinctively plopped down on top of Lovino's legs. "I took a shower this morning~"
Sitting up completely, the younger of the two hooked one arm around his partner's slim waist, the other arm sliding underneath the Spaniard's knees to tug him closer.
"You're also a lot heavier than you look," Lovino added, pretending to gasp and wheeze from holding Antonio's weight. "Holy shit...what does your diet consist of, doughnuts and brown pop?"
More giggles. "I had always thought my diet made me look subtle and natural."
"Yeah. Subtle and natural for Gabriel Iglesias."
Antonio laughed loudly, a beautiful, tinkly sound.
"Lovi! Okay, that was mean~"
"You still laughed, though," Lovino replied. "So I'm not the only mean one here."
The gorgeous Spaniard was grinning from ear-to-ear. "Eh...I guess I can live with that."
Lovino leaned back on the couch, resting with his back against the armrest, which made Antonio shift so that his legs were on either side of the Italian's hips. Said Italian's cheeks flushed when he felt his boyfriend's chin rest on his shoulder. With both hands resting on the small of the Spaniard's back, Lovino was just about to close his eyes and maybe doze off with his gorgeous partner in his arms when a soft voice in his ear stopped him from doing so.
"Lovi...?"
"Mmm-hmm?"
"Am I actually annoying to you?"
"Mmm, sometimes."
"Really?"
"Mmm-hmm."
"Am I weird?"
"Very."
"Really?"
"Mmm-hmm."
"...Do I bother you sometimes?"
Lovino hesitated. He wasn't quite sure how to answer that. He didn't want to say yes, but he didn't want to say no, either. He knew Antonio knew when he was lying, so he had to come up with a reasonable answer.
"...Lovi?"
"You...you don't bother me," The Italian started slowly.
"But...you can be a bit, uh...distracting."
"Distracting, Lovi? How so?"
Lovino hesitated again, thinking quickly.
"Well, ah...you...you always have something to say, you know? A-And sometimes, when I'm watching something, or reading something, basically just doing something, you always tend to say something really interesting, and it distracts me from whatever I'm doing and makes me think about whatever you said."
Antonio didn't respond for the longest time. Lovino's cheeks grew hot. Hopefully he didn't say anything stupid and/or offending.
And then, after a few moments, he heard - no, felt Antonio's breathy laugh against his ear.
"You're funny, Lovi. And weird."
"You're weirder," The Italian murmured, and his hands slipped up the Spaniard's shirt to slowly trace his spine up and down. Antonio made one of those little sighing moans he always made when he was feeling really comfortable.
"Is that a good thing, my Lovi...?"
Lovino turned his head, pressing deep kisses along the side of his gorgeous boyfriend's throat.
"Obviously," He replied against smooth, bronze skin.
"If it wasn't, I wouldn't have let you inside my house. Nor would I let you eat half of my sandwich."