I should be getting to sleep because I have a flight to catch tomorrow morning, but instead I'll upload this and stay up even later.

This is a bribe-turned-gift for the ever fabulous maestbro. You should check out her stuff because she's awesome. C:

Romano was irritated. He normally always was, but at ten minutes before eight in the morning, after going to bed too late and waking up too early thanks to his roommate, he was especially irritated. His fingers threatened to squash his coffee cup as he marched loudly up the four flight of stairs to his art history lecture classroom. Of course, the door was closed and locked, since he arrived early by twenty minutes and the professor had yet to show up. There were several fellow classmates waiting in the hallway, sitting against walls and reading through notes (or sleeping), but anyone with common sense wouldn't be showing up for another fifteen minutes. Why Romano showed up so Goddamned early was beyond him.

Following the other students' examples, he dropped his backpack onto the ground and slid to the floor, slumping against the wall. He was bundled in two layers of hooded jackets and a beanie, and his fingers were still defrosting around his coffee. It was cold outside, but it wasn't cold enough yet to break out the heavy winter jackets. However, the mornings were still so damned cold that three layers of clothes weren't necessarily enough to keep him warm on his trek across campus. He should probably at least invest in some proper gloves that actually had fingers.

As he sipped some coffee to warm his frozen innards, loud, boisterous laughter radiating from the staircase made him choke and sputter the hot drink. His mouth now successfully scorched, he wiped dribbles of coffee from the edge of his lips and sent a fiery glare at the staircases.

Oh wonderful, he thought bitterly. The Three Stooges, all a couple years older than himself, marched into the hallway, too sinfully awake this early in the morning – Gilbert Beilschmidt, dressed way too lightly for the almost-frozen weather, Francis Bonnefoy, looking "fabulous" in his expensive designer jacket and (women's) fur boots, and Antonio Carriedo...

He had nothing to say about that asshole.

The three of them lowered their voices to return to whatever they were whispering about, only to break out into another round of obnoxious laughter. Romano nearly had the heart to toss his coffee at them, but he was still in the defrosting stage and preferred to put his warm drink to better use. At least, drinking it seemed like the better option until Gilbert noticed his huddled figure and pointed at him with a big stupid smile.

"Hey, Tony, look! It's your boyfriend."

Romano's nostrils flared and his face turned a bright red. Some of the other lounging men and women turned their attention to him and he thought he was going to explode. It didn't help that Antonio gave him a toothy grin and waved.

In a huff, Romano pushed himself to his feet and, on impulse, chucked his barely touched coffee at the trio. He meant to aim for Antonio's stupid face to get him to stop smiling like a stupidhead, but his aim was off by a little bit and nailed Gilbert's chest instead. The albino was still from shock for about a second before he started freaking, pulling at his shirt to try to shake off as much of hot beverage as he could. "Jesus Christ, son of a bitch! Did you see what that crazy jackass did? God damn, this shit is hot!"

Oh well, the result was just as satisfying.

It was at that point that the professor finally made her appearance, pausing to look up and down at Gilbert before shaking her head and clicking her tongue. "Mr. Beilschmidt, please learn to drink like a big boy, I don't know if I have any sippy cups to spare."

Gilbert gawped and sputtered as the professor unlocked and propped the door open. Romano shouldered his bag and followed her in. He couldn't help the satisfied smirk as Gilbert finally blurted out, "That kid ruined my good shirt! He ruined my favorite shirt! And I can drink like a big boy!"

After the ninety minutes of lecture was done, Romano bolted out of the room before he could be caught by the Dumbasses Three. Throughout the lecture, he spotted them peeking over their shoulders and throwing him looks. The two times he caught Gilbert, he narrowed his eyes and gave him the best glare he could. For Francis, he flipped off the stupid perverted douchebag discreetly, not at all liking the raised eyebrows and winks he'd been receiving. As for stupid Antonio, he tried his best to not even acknowledge his presence and keep his attention towards the slide images of Byzantine art. He had a feeling that had he paid attention to him, he'd notice that the brunet had probably been staring at him for a chunk of the lecture.

The morning chill hadn't at all really gone away, and he regretted his fingerless gloves once more as he struggled with the lock of his bike. Since he parked it at the bike rack two hours previous, inconsiderate assholes shoved their bikes right up against his to the point where it was near impossible to get it out. As he fumbled with the key and lock, he failed to notice Antonio approaching him from behind. The Spaniard waved off his two friends, mentioning he'd meet up with them later in the day (Gilbert was still sorely pissed off for his ruined shirt and had to run off to change).

Just as Romano finally unlocked the stubborn U-lock, Antonio decided it was the opportune time to say, "Hey, Romano."

Or more like yell it and scare the living daylights out of him. Romano jumped with a squeal and the lock and key fell onto the concrete sidewalk with a clatter. He turned to face Antonio and snarled. "What the fuck do you want?"

"I, um..." Antonio bit his lower lip as Romano reached between the bikes to grab his lock and key. "I wanted to ask you about last weekend–"

Romano suddenly bolted up straight and tensed. "What about last weekend? There's nothing about last weekend to talk about, how about you do me a favor and fuck off." He turned away and preoccupied himself by throwing the lock and key into his bag before beginning the struggle of freeing his bike from the sea of handlebars.

"Well, about last weekend–" omigod can't this guy take a hint? "–I know that we were a little bit drunk–" more like wasted, "–and perhaps some of the things we might have done were a little uncalled for, and..."

Flashbacks to the Saturday night party weren't particularly wanted, but Romano couldn't help the flashes of memories that decided to pop in his head. Most of them centered around the several tequilas he'd helped himself to and this bastard bothering him. The holding, the hugging, the kissing...the intense kissing...

With a huff, Romano struggled with his bike more harshly. He didn't even know why his drunken brain had decided to be attracted to him when there were so many pretty, scantily clothed sorority girls in that party. He specifically remembered a particular blonde he'd had his eyes on and chased her around the fraternity house for a while, but after that was a blur, the fog clearing only enough for Antonio's Goddamned face to make itself shown. It didn't matter how much of a good kisser he was. He was annoying, stupid, and a freaking guy. He did not want to be marked off as a gay dude to the female population on campus. That was the last thing he wanted.

"...Hey, do you need help that?"

"I'm fine, you bastard!" Romano kicked aside one of the bikes, and with one more pull, his bike was freed. He let out a triumphant laugh. "See, I was fine."

"...Uh huh." Antonio nodded, and cleared his throat. "So, um, yea, I was thinking maybe we could, uh, get together sometime?"

Romano turned to Antonio with a displeased look. It was too cold and too early for this shit. "What. No, fuck you, I'm not going anywhere near you. Just because we happen to be in the same art history class together and we did...stuff...does not mean I have the least bit interest in your ugly face."

No, it wasn't really ugly. It was kind of attractive, actually. But it wasn't. No. It was stupid. A stupid face. He wished his coffee really did explode in his face.

He jumped on his bike and was about to ride off, but Antonio threw himself in front of him and grasped tightly to the handlebars.

"Hey, come on, seriously, hear me out, please?"

"No!" Romano attempted to push him off, but in vain. "Get off, dammit, you're gonna make me late for my next class!"

"I mean, I know what we did that night probably has you thinking of me as a slut or something like that–"

"You're making it sound like we actually fucked! Go away!"

"–But I'd really like to just sit down with you and, like, actually talk with you."

"I already said no, now go away or I'll run you over!"

"I owe you another coffee, don't I?"

Romano paused. "...What?"

"This morning, when you chucked your coffee at Bertie, it looked like you barely drank it at all, so I owe you a coffee. We can get together sometime and I can make it up to you and buy you a coffee?"

Antonio's hopeful smile, while charming, was kind of sickening. With his nose wrinkled, Romano stared at him as he went over the argument in his head. On the one hand, he never wanted to do anything with this bastard again. He was annoying and obviously the clingy type – and there he goes actually thinking like they had a chance to be "together" like that! No, he's a man with a penis and they did stuff he never wanted to even think about again and he's not at all interested in socializing with him whatsoever.

But on the other hand, his offer to buy him a coffee was tempting, and perhaps if he played his cards right he could get a free meal out of him? Since starting university this year he had grown very frugal, and this sounded like good opportunity for free stuff.

Besides, in the back of mind, at the very very back in some dusty lonely corner, a little voice was telling him to give this guy a shot. Even if he were irritating and obnoxious and so...sunshiney, there was the potential of at least being buddies with him, if not more.

For now, that little voice was ignored. He wanted his free coffee.

"Meet me in front of the Food For Thought at eleven thirty. If you're late I'll kick your teeth in."

Antonio broke into what had to be the biggest, most excited and gleeful and triumphant smile on the face of the earth. "Really! Th-That's wonderful! That's great! I'll see you there, I-I'll get you anything you want, I'll buy you lunch too!"

"That's great, Douchebag, now kindly get the fuck off so I can actually get to my next class!"

"Yes, yes, sorry, go ahead. I'll meet you at eleven thirty."

With a pfuh, Romano was finally able to bike away, top speed to lose that dumb idiot before he decided to bribe anything else out of him. Despite the aggravation at the pit of his stomach, strangely enough he felt pleased to have accepted his offer. Of course it was just because of the free meal. His lunch would be something more filling and healthier than the cheap greasy stuff he'd been getting his hands on lately, and a sub sandwich sounded much more appetizing than another meal of Chinese take out.

But it was just because of the free meal. He wasn't looking forward to seeing Antonio at all.