Hey, this is something for you guys to know I'm still alive.
This story is probably going to be a one-shot for now.
I wrote this a while back, probably between chapter four and chapter five of "When we met."
This is in the same universe of "When we met" and is set in the second chapter.
I don't own Hetalia :)
Lovino Vargas was pissed. His grandfather told him to be a good kid and attend some party so people would think the Vargas family cared about petty stuff, so he came. He arrived in a flashy car, wore an expensive suit that was choking him to death, came in from the front door and had his name read out to the other people. Glances were cast his way and frowns appeared on the elder people's faces while giggles came from young girls who knew of him and his flirting— so what now? He was surrounded by blinding lights, strangers, and men.
Personally, Lovino found other men annoying because they always teased him for his short height, but he didn't mind the ladies. They were charming. They are charming. He liked talking to them, it made his day better. Maybe that was why the Vargas house was filled with maids instead of butlers.
The Vargas house was operated by Lovino's grandfather, Rome (nobody knew his real name); who was head of the Italian Mafia before his retirement because of his daughter and son-in-law's death. There was no one else to care for Lovino and his brother, Feliciano, and the siblings spent a few depressing days in an orphanage before Rome took them in and moved away from Italy and his business. Feliciano was bright, cheerful and artistic while Lovino was smart but surly, often giving people a negative impression. Only the people in the Vargas house really understood him, especially Feliciano.
The band in the corner of the room began playing soothing music as Lovino stood quietly in one corner. Whose house was he in again? Oh, the Edelsteins. They were aristocrats who had class, wealth, and were actually talented and did something productive with their money. The Edelsteins ran opera houses and trained musicians, and their son, Roderich, was a renowned prodigy.
In Lovino's opinion nothing was bad about Roderich, except for the fact that he was frugal. In fact Lovino felt quite sorry for him because he had to succeed the family. Rome would never force his children to succeed the family business nor marry others out of benefits.
Roderich was being shipped with Elizaveta of the Héderváry family, a family of hunters and fighters. Lovino always wondered why two families would want to form an alliance through marriage when it was a fact that Roderich didn't get along with Mr. Héderváry. Rome said it wasn't something that should bother Lovino since it didn't affect him, but he still couldn't help but wonder about this arrangement.
As for Elizaveta, Lovino liked her a lot. She was a tall, beautiful, and confident girl, the kind of girl that rarely gossiped and gave him a comforting feeling, the feeling of a mother and a big sister. He didn't like the thought of Elizaveta being married to Roderich through alliance, but he knew she liked him in a romantic way and he didn't intend on discouraging her, after all he saw her as someone important.
"Feliciano?" A peppy voice called out and Lovino looked at a blond boy with green eyes who was wearing a hot pink suit and a weird purple scarf with a pair of heart-shaped sun glasses that made him stand out in the formal crowd.
"Feliks, I'm not Feliciano." Lovino said as he picked up a small tart and shoved it into his mouth. Feliks was the son of the Łukasiewicz family, where most of the family members were all top fashion designers and models. The family was also renowned for their quirkiness and information, so one was wise not to become enemies with them.
"Oh, really? I totally thought you were Feliciano, you know, with the hair and the curl and stuff." Feliks drawled as he sipped daintily from the glass in his hands.
"Feliciano didn't come today. He's doing homework."
Feliks winked. "I think he's totally on a date with his boyfriend. Ludwig's totally hot with all those muscles, isn't he, but I totally like Toris better because he's cute and shy."
"Don't talk to me about that macho German dude, and you like Toris because he puts up with your gossip and weirdness." Lovino snapped, his mood turning from okay to sour as the image of his brother's blond boyfriend popped into his mind.
Feliciano had come home one day with a dreamy look on his face, saying that he had fallen in love with someone in the Track team. It didn't take long for Lovino to realize it was Ludwig, a formal and serious person that for some reason had senior girls fawning all over him. Lovino tried to convince Feliciano that he was just full of admiration for Ludwig and wasn't in love with him, but catching the two kissing in a cramped closet was enough for him to understand. Lovino hadn't accepted the relationship, but for the sake of his younger brother he let things pass.
"Well, Toris is totally better than any other guy," Feliks said loudly, and a few ladies turned around to stare.
"Feliks, shut your mouth about all that gay talk." Lovino muttered as he glared at the older women, who just scurried away from him.
"It's totally not gay talk." Feliks objected with a slight frown, and Lovino sighed.
"Anyways, keep your stuff to yourself."
The two stood in silence before Feliks piped up. "Hey Lovino, I've always wondered if you're gay."
Lovino almost spit his drink out of his mouth and sent a glare at the blond. "What the fuck?"
"You know what I'm talking about, the gay-dar thing!" Feliks said as he waved his scarf around. "You're totally gay."
"I'm not gay so shut up."
"Well, I guess you're totally going to be gay for one guy then."
"Just shut up." Lovino huffed as Feliks gave him a smile, his hooded green eyes gleaming.
"I'm leaving you for now so totally have fun, okay?"
Lovino muttered a response and sulked at he stared at his reflection in the drink he was holding. The Łukasiewicz's were never wrong. It was one of their weird wisdoms.
"Feliciano?" Another voice called, this time more soft and gentle.
Lovino was about to let out a growl of annoyance when he realized it was Lili, shy girl that was born into a military family, the Zwingli's. They profited from wars and produced weaponry that was hailed as the best, and most members knew how to use at least twenty different types of weapons as a part of their training. The Zwingli's always kept a neutral stance, which was difficult, seeing as Lili and her brother Vash were always alone. There were no groups for them to belong to except their family, and Lovino wondered if that was the reason that Lili always seemed distant.
"What can I do for you, Lili?" Lovino asked as he offered her a drink. Lili gasped before clapping a hand over her mouth.
"I'm sorry Lovino, I…I…"
"It's alright." Lovino said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "But are you sure it's okay for you to talk to me?"
Lili blinked. "Of course it's okay for me to talk to you— I can talk to anybody, but I can't give out promises and favors."
"Oh, okay. I don't want Vash to shoot me up."
"My brother would never shoot you."
Lovino snorted. "He tried to shoot Francis the other day. Is that being neutral?"
Lili blushed. "Francis was just being himself, that's all."
"If Francis ever harasses you, just stab his hand or something."
"Francis is a gentleman."
"Whatever you say," Lovino said as he rolled his eyes mentally.
"How do you like this party?" Lili asked. "Our house is rather simple in design and lifestyle, so we never really get to see much of this luxury."
"I don't like parties in general." Lovino replied.
Lili smiled. "Neither does my brother."
Speak of the devil and he shall come. Vash suddenly materialized beside Lili and Lovino almost dropped his drink in surprise.
"Lili," Vash said simply as he held out his arm.
"I think it's time for me to go," Lili smiled apologetically as she linked arms with her brother and was whisked away somewhere. Vash was overprotective as always, whisking his sister away from the opposite sex all the time.
Lovino flexed his neck and wondered when it was time to dance. People were just eating and chatting with one another, catching up on the latest of everything and showing off. It was boring, and he was getting tired of being mistaken for his brother.
"Feli?" An annoying noise popped out of nowhere, and Lovino almost crushed the glass in his hands. How many other people were going to mistake him for his happy-go-lucky idiot of a brother, Feliciano? Wait, since when did his fratello have a nick name?
Lovino turned around to glare at the man, whom he realized was a waiter— a man and a stranger, two things Lovino dreaded—who was tall and tanned, with brown hair, green eyes, and a smile on his face.
"Oh, you're not Feli?" The man said as he cocked his head sideways, his smile still bright and much of an eye sore.
"I'm Lovino Vargas," Lovino spat before he downed his drink in three gulps.
"I'm Antonio, Antonio Fernande Carriedo," The man said with a blinding smile, and Lovino wanted to throw a drink in his face. "I'm Feli's friend."
Lovino blinked. Why was this guy smiling like the happiest man in the world? In Lovino's opinion there was nothing worth smiling about in the world. Grunting, he turned away from Antonio, hoping he would go away. He didn't like the thought of talking to such a cheerful man.
"Are you related to Feli?" Antonio piped up as he presented his tray of drinks in front of Lovino, who took another one, swirling the contents in the glass as he glared at Antonio again.
"I'm his brother." Lovino clipped as he downed the sixth drink in his evening.
"You look cuter than Feli, you know?" Antonio said, making Lovino choke on his drink.
"W-what the fuck, you bastardo!" Lovino coughed, glaring at the people that looked his way. "Who do you think you're calling cute, huh?"
Antonio pouted. "But you are cute! Lovi, I think I've fallen in love with you!"
Lovino wanted to smash a bottle at the man's face. Was he gay? Why was he saying that he was cute? Was his brain screwed the wrong way or was it just the size of a postage stamp? And did he just give him a nick name?
"Go away," Lovino muttered as he moved away to the corner of the ball room to find a nice lady to chat with in hopes of forgetting Felik's words. Soon enough he found a girl with blond hair and green eyes standing in the corner and went to talk to her.
"Hello, my name is Lovino Vargas," Lovino said, and the girl smiled at him warmly.
"It's nice to meet you, I'm Emma. I saw you talking with one of the waiters— do you know him?"
Lovino racked his brain for the stupid name. "Antonio?" He asked as he pointed towards the smiling man who was talking to a few ladies who were taking drinks. They were all smiling like they were having the time of their life, something Lovino couldn't fathom.
"So he's called Antonio," Emma said as she rolled the name off her tongue in interest. Lovino felt his heart drop. Just when he was here trying to chat up a girl this bastardo just had to get in his way? Lovino held back a huff of anger. Even though he was angry, he wasn't as ill-mannered as to try to change Emma's opinion and make her like him instead. He respected the choice of all ladies.
"What's so good about him?" Lovino asked instead, wondering what Antonio had that he didn't.
"Well, he's handsome, charming, and he smiles a lot. He's Spanish, isn't he? Doesn't Spain feel so romantic?" Emma smiled.
"I thought France was the most romantic place," Lovino muttered.
"Really?" Emma said as she tilted her head, her blond locks falling to one side. "If France is romantic, then… Spain is passionate."
Lovino stared at Antonio, giving him a good look again. The Spaniard was still smiling, totally oblivious to the ladies who were winking at him and running their hands along his arms. The Italian didn't know about Antonio's body, but he had to admit that he was handsome. His dazzlingly smile and his dancing green eyes were only part of the charm.
"I don't think he's that charm—" Lovino started, but he didn't expect the meeting of his eyes and Antonio's. All of the sudden, his heart began thumping loudly in his chest and the room began to feel hotter than it was.
Suddenly Feliks' words began to echo in his head for no reason.
"Well, I guess you're totally going to be gay for one guy."
"I think it's getting stuffy in here," He said as he made way for the gardens, "I'll go out for some fresh air." Emma nodded, her eyes still on Antonio.
-
The moment he burst out into the cool summer night Lovino splashed his face with water from the fountain in the middle of the garden, feeling it drip down his hair and roll off his cheek, cooling down the burning tinge from earlier.
What was that?
What was that?
Had his, Lovino Vargas' heart, thump wildly in his chest for some random nutcase just because their eyes met? He was a skirt chaser, dammit, and he was not going to go gay for some Spanish dude with a stupid smile on his face.
"Are you alright?"
Lovino whipped around and almost fell into the fountain due to shock. "What the hell are you doing out here, you bastardo?"
Antonio smiled. "I know enough Italian to know that you aren't fond of me, are you?"
"Shut up, and leave me alone if you know what's good for you!" Lovino yelled.
"I know leaving you alone is not good for you." Antonio replied instantly, and Lovino stared at him, dumbfounded.
"What do you know what's good for me and what's not?" He muttered as he sat down at the edge of the fountain, ignoring the fact that Antonio did the same and had scooted closer to him.
"Well, you seem lonely!" Antonio chirped as he leaned closer to Lovino, who just moved away.
"Don't get too close to me."
"Why not? You seem lonely, so I should keep you company!"
"I don't need company. Being alone is fine." He pouted as he crossed his arms, trying to look as determined as he could, even though he was squirming under the gaze of the brilliant green eyes.
Lovino didn't know whether to befriend the Spanish nuisance or not. For some strange reason, he felt that Antonio knew his feelings, like how it felt like to be so useless compared to a cute younger brother and how it felt like to push everyone away because he was afraid they would leave him, just like his parents did. The Italian bit his bottom lip as he clenched his hands into fists. He wasn't going to think about his parents now.
Antonio opened his mouth and Lovino wondered if he was going to go on about some random shit that he didn't care about, but he surprised him by clapping his knees and standing up.
"Okay then."
Lovino watched as the Spaniard walked away from him and back into the ball room, where everything was so blinding and filled with happiness.
"Go back then, and don't come back." Lovino muttered to himself as he unclenched his fists and rubbed his smarting eyes angrily. He didn't know why he was being so emotional and decided to blame it on alcohol. The Italian stood up, knelt beside the fountain, stared at his rippling reflection.
He shouldn't have come to the party after all. If he hadn't come he would be at home doing his homework and studying for school. If he hadn't come he'd be eating dinner with the staff at his house and dancing with them. If he hadn't come…he wouldn't have met Antonio and feel like someone messed him up.
Lovino decided to wake himself up. He took a deep breath and began to drown himself until he couldn't breathe before resurfacing. He repeated his actions a couple of more times, feeling more refreshed than ever.
"Ay dios mio! What do you think you're doing?" A voice cried amidst the bubbling of water against Lovino's ears, and he felt himself get pulled out of the fountain. He coughed harshly before throwing a glare at Antonio.
"What do you think you're doing?" He parroted as he stood up and shook his head, letting the drops of water fly around him before smoothing his damp hair backwards. "I thought you went back!"
"I came back to check on you—oh Lovi—even though you're lonely you shouldn't drown yourself!" Antonio declared as he jabbed a finger at Lovino, who just stared at him before he gave a short, dry laugh that quickly turned into a dark glare.
"Listen up you fucking Spaniard, I'm not lonely and I wasn't trying to drown myself! I don't need your pity or whatever it is, so why don't you fucking leave me alone before I shove a tomato down your throat!"
Antonio stared at him. "Tomato? Aren't you supposed to say something like 'I'll shove my cock up your ass' or 'I'll shove a gun in your throat'?"
Lovino felt a fire burn on his face and he promptly began to drown himself again, hoping Antonio would take a hint and leave. When he resurfaced he was dismayed that the Spaniard was still there and laughing his head off.
"No, I'm the one who's going to do the shoving—it's quite obvious isn't it—but a tomato? This cuteness is criminal!"
"Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up!" Lovino screamed as he splashed water on Antonio. "Just fucking get out of my sight!"
"Won't you just admit you're lonely and need some company, mi tomate?"
Lovino spluttered at the new nick name. "Mi tomate?" He repeated incredulously. "Who the hell is your fucking tomato?"
Antonio sent a glaringly white smile at Lovino. "Ah, you know some Spanish? You're just so cute when you're angry—your face is red like a tomato! Or would you like to be a green one— green with jealousy?"
Lovino resisted the urge to punch Antonio as the Spaniard laughed at his lame joke—was it even a joke at all?—but decided against it in fear of damaging the small brain he had.
"I like my tomatoes red," Lovino muttered as he slicked his hair back again. It was impossible to communicate with Antonio. Not that he really hoped for a decent conversation.
"So do I." Antonio smiled, and Lovino felt his heart skip a beat once more. He furiously kicked the Spaniard's left calf before and running back to his designated room for the night, ignoring the painful howls of Antonio.
I don't care about that Spanish shit, Lovino repeated like a mantra as he rummaged through his duffel bag for something to wear. Good thing his fratello had the bag bursting with clothes that Lovino thought he didn't need.
The thought of thanks was quickly dashed off into anger when he pulled out a bright red suit, a ridiculous white shirt and a cravat. "What the hell was Feliciano thinking? Even a jumpsuit is better than this shit." The Italian rummaged a bit more and managed a small smile when he finally found something presentable. Just as he took his shirt off and began changing he heard a scream from next door.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" A man yelled.
"Sorry, wrong room!" Antonio's voice cried, "Don't hold the party host responsible!"
There was the sound of the door closing with a thud before it was opened again.
"Hey, do you know Lovino Vargas? What room is he staying in?"
"Who the hell are you? Just get out already!"
Lovino turned his head to the door in horror before scrambling to the bathroom, dead set on not letting the Spanish bastard find him. He closed the bathroom door and jumped into the tub, pulling the shower curtains together, desperately hoping that Antonio wouldn't find him.
"Lovi? Are you here?" Antonio's voice called, and Lovino put a hand over his mouth to stop himself from answering to his name, despite it was a nick name. "This must be his room since his shirt is on the floor…"
The door closed with a soft click and Antonio's footsteps drew near.
"Wow…look at all these clothes…Lovi's fashion sense is pretty weird…"
This shit is just embarrassing— I'm going to get Feliciano for this.
"Is this a cravat? Roderich was wearing one of those—oh! This red suit is just fascinating! It's like a tomato that was ironed and flattened out!"
A tomato that was ironed and flattened out would just be a disgusting lump of flesh and juice! What the hell are you talking about, Spanish bastard?
"…what is this? Is this…the legendary…T back? I didn't know Lovi had such a taste!"
T-T-T back? What the hell? I don't own any T backs at all! What the hell? It's not mine you bastard, it's not mine!
"Hmm…I wonder if it's going to fit on me?"
What? You're thinking of trying on T back? What the hell do you want to do with that? Show off to Francis? Wait, do you even know the pervert at all?
There was a rustle of clothing and Lovino stifled his gasp of horror. Antonio wasn't really going to try that on, was he? Did he have any sense of hygiene? Anybody could have worn it, like his own grandfather! God know what germs he has on him!
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" Lovino screamed as he threw open the doors to the bathroom and stumbled, grabbing the bedpost to regain his balance. He was met with a surprised Antonio with a black T back dangling in his hands, his pants and boxers down to his ankle. Antonio gaped before quickly turning around and trying to pull up his pants, his arms flailing as he lost his balance and crashed on the bed, his buttocks facing Lovino.
"The fuck!" The Italian screamed after a few seconds, his face flushed and his ears were a piping hot red. He covered his eyes and fell back on to the carpeted floor with a thud as he backed away.
"Are you alright?"
"Shut up! I hear you coming over; just stay where you are!" Lovino yelled as he panicked. What the hell had he just seen? Was it even possible to be so…well, manly? His eyes were burning and Lovino felt choked up by various emotions.
"Lovi? I pulled my pants up so it's okay to open your eyes…sorry about that…and uh, is this T back—"
"It's not mine it's not mine it's not mine!" Lovino yelled as he scrambled to his feet. "What the hell are you doing here anyways?"
"I came to look for you!" Antonio said, the T back still hanging in his hands.
"Get rid of that—no, give it to me!" Lovino growled as he grabbed the T back from Antonio's hand and pushed him aside to rummage through his duffel bag furiously, fishing out a lighter.
"Why do you have a lighter— what are you doing?" Antonio said as Lovino held the lighter under the T back.
"I don't know whose T back this is, but I'm going to burn this fucking thing!"
"Lovi, it's just a T back!" Antonio cried as he lunged towards Lovino, who was already burning the piece of clothing. The Spaniard grabbed the article and rushed towards the bathroom, putting the fire out with a gush of water before the alarms could go off.
The two stood in the bathroom awkwardly while the poor T back floated in the sink, burnt and helpless. Lovino stared at the marble flooring for a moment before he looked at Antonio, his eyed widening when the Spaniard was smiling at him like nothing happened. Brown eyes searched green, and Lovino understood that Antonio was saving him from the awkwardness of explaining his odd behavior.
"You're not wearing a shirt you know," Antonio said as he eyed Lovino's bare chest and arms. The Italian shivered, telling it wasn't because of the Spaniard's passionate stares but because he was cold.
"Shut your damn eyes, it's gross." Lovino said as he headed back to the bathroom and found his presentable shirt among the pile of clothing. "I have a party to go back to and I think you're going to get fired if you keep this up."
"Oh, dios mio! My job!" Antonio gasped and he ran for the door. "I'll be back!" He cried to Lovino before dashing out and down the hallway.
Lovino flopped onto his bed and sighed. Thank god the Spaniard had left. If the tomato head had stayed any longer Lovino was sure he would go crazy. The brunette stared at into space as he thought about what he had just seen, his face burning at the memory. Antonio had such a nice ass and his…well…front…was just so—
What the hell was he just thinking about? Lovino let out a frustrated yell into his pillow as he rolled around in his bed and tried to censor the memory.
The Italian closed his eyes and began his calming mantra. "Green, white, red, Italy,"
That ass—
"Spaghetti, linguine, lasagna,"
That ass—
"Tortellini, farfalline, macaroni,"
That ass—
"Tomatoes, olive, cucumbers,"
That wonderful and fabulous ass—
"Argh!" Lovino screamed as he rolled off the bed and thudded on the floor. He'd better get back to the ball room and drown himself in a sea of beautiful women. Perhaps he would forget Antonio that way. Lovino tided himself up and headed back to the ballroom with a brisk pace. When he entered the room it was full of the sound of applauds and he saw Roderich and an albino standing on the stage.
Mr. Héderváry angrily pushed his way through the crowd and headed out the door, his daughter Elizaveta looking at his retreating figure with a sad expression. Lovino liked Elizaveta a lot as a big sister, and he felt sorry that she had to put up with comments about her father. He walked over to her.
"Elizaveta, are you okay?" Lovino asked.
"I'm fine, thank you," Elizaveta smiled. She was pretty and Lovino liked seeing her smile. "I believe it's time to dance, would you like to dance with me?"
Lovino laughed lightly, his surly expression gone. "Of course," He replied as he held out a hand. Elizaveta rested her hand on his as the guests on the dance floor began to pair up to dance a slow, soothing waltz. Dancing was the only thing Lovino liked about parties, because he could dance and he was good at it, even better than Feliciano. He was good at most dances and excelled in Latin dances. Smooth dances like the Waltz and Tango was something he also enjoyed.
"You're such a wonderful dancer," Elizaveta said as the smile on her face grew wider.
"I'm short but I can lead," Lovino replied. He never liked talking about his height, but with Elizaveta it was okay.
"You're not short, you'll still grow."
"I don't think so…" Lovino muttered.
"Have some faith in yourself!" Elizaveta grinned, "I grew a lot last year."
Lovino grinned back. "All you Héderváry's are tall."
"Rome is also tall, and don't forget you have his genes running in you—you've inherited his intelligence, you know?"
"I have? I don't think so." Lovino said with a frown.
Elizaveta giggled before she nudged Lovino gently, pointing to one direction with her eyes. "Antonio has been staring at you for a long time," she said, and the two did a reverse turn so Lovino could see.
"You know him?" Lovino asked as he quickly did another turn so his eyes and Antonio's wouldn't meet.
"Of course I do, he's in the same grade as I am." Elizaveta said as she did another turn, forcing Lovino to look at Antonio again. "Why are you being shy? He'd make a great friend."
Lovino snorted. "He's an air-head."
"He's considerate."
"The bastard tries on clothes that belong to other people!"
Elizaveta blinked. "How do you know that for sure?"
"Uh…I saw. Anyways, how are things going on with you and Roderich?" Lovino said, changing the topic swiftly. Elizaveta gave him a look but sighed.
"I don't think he likes me."
Lovino frowned. "How many years have you pinned after him again?"
"Ever since I started middle school... so that makes four to five years now."
"That long? Why haven't you made a move?"
"I try to, but Roderich always declines one way or another, but not directly. I was okay with it until now, but I think I should do something." Elizaveta said.
"What do you mean?"
"Roderich seems to have gotten close to Gilbert—the one who was playing the violin earlier— even though he didn't like him before."
"Gilbert? The guy Roderch always complains about because he keeps asking for money?" Lovino asked as he eyed the albino serving food in the corner.
"Just yesterday Gilbert asked for money again before I went to see Roderich. I don't know what happened though. Now today Gilbert helps Roderich out on stage even though he says he hates him."
"That's nothing to worry about— it's not like Roderich's gay." Lovino whispered.
"I'm afraid he might be."
Lovino almost stopped the dance in shock. "You think he's gay for the albino?"
"Don't talk like that."
"Sorry," Lovino muttered before he looked at Elizaveta questioningly. "But why would you think he's…that way?"
"I don't know. It's just a feeling."
"Roderich's coming over!" Lovino said as he spied the sophisticated brunette walking over as the tune began to end. "Maybe he's going to ask you to dance with him!"
"Roderich always asks me to dance with him." Elizaveta replied as she smiled fondly at Lovino. "Stop acting like a middle school fan girl."
"Well, sorry for me being excited for you." Lovino said as the two parted.
"Thank you for worrying about me, Lovino," Elizaveta said with a sincere smile. Lovino smiled back before turning to find his next partner, ignoring the stares Antoino was still giving him. He was definitely not going to fall for some Spanish bastard, definitely not.
-
The party ended faster than Lovino thought it would. He declined Mrs. Edelstein's invitation to dine with the family and retreated into his room, his good mood gone. He hated dinner at other people's houses. At the Vargas house they ate dinner and danced and drank wine with their servants, but at other houses the servants were cramped into a small space in the hot kitchen and ate food that could be better.
However, Lovino found dinner bland because he was alone in his room. There was no music, no laughter, and no good Italian cuisine. He stood up and headed down to the dining hall, stopping at the door way when he heard the Edelstein parent's wheedle information out of Roderich's guests. Even though he didn't know them, he would help them. After all he wanted Roderich to have more friends, and his parents were the one who were interfering each and every time.
"Stop the fucking interrogation and just eat, keep this up and those two are going to kill themselves," Lovino declared as he threw open the doors to the dining room and strode in, throwing a glare at the Edelstein parents.
"Lovi!" Antonio cried happily, and Lovino turned around in surprise, quickly masking it with his usual surliness.
"Shut up, bastardo, who gave you permission to give me names like that?" Lovino yelled as he kicked Antonio's chair and seated himself next to his cousin Francis, grabbing a plate along the way. The Edelstein's looked at each other and Mrs. Edlestein forced a smile on her face.
"Ah, Lovino, I thought you wanted dinner in your room?"
"I changed my mind." Lovino declared as he ripped a drumstick from the chicken on the table. "It's too fucking quiet."
"Manners, Lovino," Francis said with a strained smile.
"Just because you're my cousin doesn't mean you can go around bossing me." Lovino said before he sunk his teeth into the drumstick and ripped off the meat.
"What will your grand-père think if he knows you're treating people without proper manners?"
Lovino paused to think at the mention of his grandfather. Even though Rome had been a Mafioso, he was one who honored manners and would never allow improper behavior to others. He turned to the Edelstein parents and swallowed his chicken. "I'm sorry for my bad manners because I hate this atmosphere." He said in a monotone— even though he tried to add some sincerity to it— and Francis smiled apologetically at the parents.
"So, I know the Spaniard, but who's this one?" Lovino said as he jabbed his drumstick at Gilbert. Even though he already knew the albino's name it was proper to be introduced formally.
"I'm Gilbert, Gilbert Beilschdmit." Gilbert grinned as he leaned forward, making Lovino frown. "Do you know my dear little brother Ludwig?"
Lovino felt like he had been hit with a ton of bricks and glared at the smirking albino.
"Ludwig?" He screeched as he slammed his food back on his plate, making the Edelstein parents wince. "The potato bastard? What the fuck did I do that you Germans have to swarm around me like flies and bring some crazy Spanish man to annoy me?"
Gilbert laughed loudly while Antonio just grinned, much to Lovino's annoyance.
"Lovino," Francis said as he tried to keep a straight face, "We should talk about this later."
The Italian huffed and went back to his food, tearing it apart with his fork and knife. This night was the worst night ever. Why was he stuck with a stupid German and silly Spaniard? He continued to sabotage his food until Elizaveta popped back into his mind. He stole a quick unnoticed glance at Roderich and Gilbert. Was it possible for them to be together? Were they even compatible?
Lovino shook his head. He wasn't going to think about that.
"Why is dinner so quiet?" He asked loudly after a second, his voice echoing around the room. He just had to think about something to say. "At my house we eat with our servants and drink wine and dance with them."
"Not all houses operate in the same manner as your grand- père does, Lovino." Francis replied. Lovino frowned. He didn't like dinner at other people's houses after all.
"Well, I think it is better that way." He replied as he wiped his mouth, casting a glare at Antonio and Gilbert. "I'm done and I'm excusing myself so bye."
Lovino left just as loudly and as quickly as he came after deciding he was done with helping the guests. He could feel Antonio's gaze on his back.
That ass. That wonderful ass.
He slammed the door behind him.
-
The Italian was surprised when there was a knock on his door. The surprise turned into horror when he realized it was Antonio, who was holding a couple bottles of wine.
"Let's have a drink together, Lovi!" The Spaniard suggested with a smile.
"Go back to your fucking room!" Lovino screamed as he tried to slam the doors closed, stopping short when Antonio stuck a foot there.
"Please?" Antonio said in a pleading voice. Lovino looked at those shining green eyes for a moment before letting out a sigh.
"Fine, but don't get yourself drunk."
"Thank you Lovi!" Antonio said as he set down the bottles and gave Lovino a hug.
"Let go of me you bastard!" The little Italian shouted as he struggled out of the embrace.
"Hey, why don't we drink at my place?" Antonio chirped, his eyes shining.
Lovino eyed him suspiciously, but figured there was nothing to be afraid of. "…alright."
"Yay!" Antonio said as he did a fist pump before dragging Lovino to the room next door.
"You sit there and I sit here." Lovino said as he pushed Antonio to the sofa while he sat on the edge of the bed. Judging from the two duffle bags on the floor it seemed like Antonio was staying with someone else, probably Gilbert.
He grabbed a bottle from the floor uncorked it before pouring the contents into two glasses that were in the room. He picked one up and handed one to Antonio, who smiled at him, before he sat on the edge of his bed.
The two sat in silence as they drank, Antonio staring and Lovino ignoring. The Italian drank more than he intended, and before he realized it the bottle in his hand was empty. He turned around to find another bottle, his mouth dropping open when he saw Antonio sprawled on the sofa.
"Dammit, is he out already? I told him not to get drunk." Lovino muttered. He looked at Antonio's sleeping face and held back a small smile. When the Spaniard was sleeping he didn't look annoying but peaceful instead.
The Italian studied the Spaniard. Antonio had a lean body and he had the height he wished for. His face was handsome and his hands looked large and comforting. Lovino stared at Antonio's legs and couldn't help but remember the T back episode earlier, when he saw everything. His face burned and Lovino drank another glass of wine to calm himself down before looking back at Antonio, who opened his eyes, his long lashes fluttering.
"I wasn't looking at you, you bastard, you were drooling—yeah—you were drooling!" Lovino said quickly, and Antonio just smiled as if he were in a daze and held out his hand, pulling Lovino on the sofa with him and enveloping him in an embrace.
"Mi amor, you're just so beautiful…" Antonio murmured as he stroked Lovino's hair, making him blush at the intimacy.
"What the hell!" Lovino yelled as he struggled under Antonio's hold.
"Ah, my lady, what do you want to do today?" Antonio grinned as he threw Lovino on the bed and hovered over him, undoubtedly drunk.
"Get the fuck off of me!" Lovino shrieked as he tried to kick Antonio, who dodged out of the way. The Spaniard straddled the smaller man and grinned crazily as he began to unbutton his shirt.
Lovino stared, his eyes wide and feeling his brain slowly shut down. What was happening was too much beyond his understanding that he ceased to care anymore. Antonio's shirt fell open, revealing his lean body and an evident six-pack. Lovino blushed and looked away.
Antonio shrugged out of his shirt and grabbed Lovino's hands, tying them up with his shirt before tying the other ends of his shirt to the bed post.
"The fuck?" Lovino shouted as he struggled against the iron hold of the shirt. Antonio grinned and moved to stand at the end of the bed.
"Now, it's time for a dance!" The drunken Spaniard declared to nobody in particular. He began prancing around the room humming a weird tune before grabbing the bed post with one hand and dancing around it as if it were a pole.
"Rico tomato, rico tomato, very delicious— uh!— tomato,
Ups the red, lows the yellow, toma-toma-tomato, hey!"
Lovino would have laughed his ass off if he weren't tied to the bed post. This was really weird.
"For pasta is tomato, for paella is tomato,
Red treasure of temptation, I love tomatoes!
Buuuut…" Antonio grinned as he suddenly began shaking his rear end.
"The wurst and potatoes aren't bad, if dear Feli were here— FUSOSOSOSOSOSO!"
Antonio laughed crazily as he danced around the room and jumped off the sofa and rolled on the ground. When he got up again his belt was gone and the front of his pants was unzipped.
"Napolitan pasta is a Japanese dish, did you know?
Lovino, I'll do a trick to cheer you up—"
The Italian was horrified when he began doing pelvic thrusts.
"Do you want to do it? Do you want it? Tell me, do you want it?"
"I don't want anything, bastard! Let go of me!" Lovino screamed as Antonio began dancing closer and closer to him before spiraling away with the flat sheet in his hands.
"I'll also give you one, I'll give you a very nice one,
Eat a delicious tomato and dance with me, olé!"
Antonio shouted as he clapped his hands before standing in a bull fighting position, waving the sheet all around him.
"Rico tomato, rico tomato, very delicious— uh!— tomato!
See you soon in Spain, the Spanish kingdom.
Rico tomato, rico tomato, very delicious— uh!— tomato!
Lows the red, ups the yellow, toma-toma-tomato, hey!"
Lovino was beginning to feel exasperated. Just how much of a bad drunk was Antonio? And what was this weird song and dance?
"I brought it to Italy, I brought it to America,
The treasure of the country of the sun, I love tomatoes!
Buuuut…Now I can't contradict Francis,
If dear Feli were here, it would be heaven,
Moment's ago Lovino ignored me and I feel bad,"
Antonio sang as he wrapped the sheet around himself and began doing something akin to Flamenco.
"Rico tomato, rico tomato, very delicious— uh!— tomato!
In the Spanish kingdom the sun never sets!"
Lovino felt his face get hotter as the Spaniard shrugged out of his pants and shook his rear end again.
"Rico tomato, rico tomato, very delicious— uh!— tomato!
Rico tomato, rico tomato, very delicious— uh!— tomato!
Uno, dos, tres, olé!"
The Spaniard clapped his hands again before grabbing the bed post and treating it like a pole again.
"I'll give you one, I'll give you a very nice one,
Eat a delicious tomato and dance with me, olé!
Rico tomato, rico tomato, very delicious, uh! Tomato!
See you soon in Spain, the Spanish kingdom!"
Antonio finished, laughing to himself as he continued pole dancing. Lovino struggled with the shirt but its grip was still strong. Suddenly the door flew open and the Italian's blood froze before he realized it was Gilbert and Roderich.
"It's about time someone came!" He screamed. "Get me out of this!"
"Gilbert, how do we get him to stop?" Roderich asked nervously as he quickly closed the door behind him.
"Easy." Gilbert grinned as he walked over and tapped Antonio on the shoulder. "Yo Toni, how are you feeling?" He asked the drunken Spaniard, who grabbed Lovino in a death embrace. Lovino felt his face turn white.
"Hmmm? I'm feeling…fine and dandy!" Antonio slurred, snuggling against Lovino with his glorious body.
"It's time for your siesta." Gilbert informed, and Lovino rolled his eyes.
"It is?" Antonio questioned as he shook his head back and forth.
"Yeah. So why don't you go to sleep?" Gilbert said, and almost immediately, Antonio dropped onto the bed as if he was dead. Roderich untied Lovino, who stood up and bolted for the door.
"Damn that bastardo! I shouldn't have listened to him! I'm going to bed!" Lovino screeched as he threw open the doors and stormed back to his room, his face burning with embarrassment and annoyance. He threw himself on his bed and curled up under the covers, willing the image of Antonio's naked body out of his mind.
Lovino Vargas was pissed. His grandfather told him to be a good kid and attend some party so people would think the Vargas family cared about petty stuff, so he came. He arrived in a flashy car, wore an expensive suit that was choking him to death, came in from the front door and had his name read out to the other people. Glances were cast his way and frowns appeared on the elder people's faces while giggles came from young girls who knew of him and his flirting— so what now?
He met an annoying Spaniard named Antonio, who barged into his life, blinding him with his dazzling white smile, confusing him with hugs and affection, and plagued his mind with a gorgeous hot body. Lovino shook his head as Feliks's words popped up into his head again.
"Well, I guess you're totally going to be gay for one guy."
Oh no he wasn't— he, Lovino Vargas, wasn't going to fall for the weirdo, and he would prove it…later. For now, he was going to go to sleep and dream of tomatoes.
That ass. You know you like his ass. His inner voice sang.
Lovino hit his pillow.
So here you have it!
If you don't know already, the song Antonio sang is Spain's character song, the Delicious Tomato song! He sings "rico tomato" in the song, so I titled the story like that.
Reviews are greatly appreciated :)
edit: since a lot of people were wondering about the song, here's the link to it: watch?v=YXyTI3o2_YY
I'm not sure if it's fanmade or not, but it sounds like Spain to me :)