Lovino Vargas cannot be certain these days on anything. Everything in his life lately has just felt like it's gone so differently than how he had planned. A breakdown was inevitable but perhaps nude swimming, a stranger on a beach, and let's face it, madness, was exactly what he needed... Blatant SpaMano.

AN: It would not be strictly true for me to say that this is a new venture for me, but I must admit, it is a change. I hope you enjoy the first chapter of this... reversion? Not sure how best to label it! I promise that the story will become somewhat more clear and less disgruntled as we go on. Thank you for taking the time to read today, and all comments or reviews are greatly appreciated.

Chapter 1 - Night Swimming, Priceless Headcases, and Stars

A coastal town in Italy, November 15th 1999

It was colder tonight than he'd anticipated. There was a chill wind that flowed through any and every gap - through his hair, under his arms, between his legs. It was never windy, but of course, the wind had to choose tonight to suddenly kick up with a vengeance. Even the sand, usually at least lukewarm felt cold, and he realised just how odd sand felt when it was cold. It was nicer than the sweaty mess when warm, but it felt like dust and decay when cold, something forlorn and forgotten and so unspeakably old. The sand remained when nothing else did. The sea remained when nothing else did. Tonight it sat in front of him, thick and black and still like tar. And then the wind whipped up again, seemingly reminding the massive body of water that it had a current to maintain, and the waves began rolling up again, crashing back towards him and sighing, collapsing into that old, cold sand. He could see that this would be peaceful when you were... Feeling like he was. Just perhaps on a slightly warmer night. But he had set out with a goal and he was going through with it. He was grasping at straws he knew, trying anything that would help, regardless of how unfounded it might be. He took a tentative step forward. And then another. And another.

Lovino was struck with just one thought as the cold water rushed over him, over his knees, then his thighs and... Other areas. Just one thought, and not a very eloquent one. 'Fuck, that's cold.' And it was cold, undeniably so. Especially when it hit you in such a rush like that. But he knew what he was doing. Sort of. He'd heard at least that this was what people did when they were having an episode. Suffering some sort of breakdown was apparently wonderfully offset by naked night swimming. And it was supposed to make everything become clear and understandable again. Right? As he waded farther out into the worryingly murky in the darkness and painfully cold water, he was beginning to doubt that. But he was going with it. He'd committed now. His clothes were folded neatly on a rock - neatly being an understatement, he'd taken all the time necessary, even whilst nude, to button and press and wrap everything immaculately before perching it all on the cleanest rock he could see. He'd told no one about it, not that he had a great deal many people to tell anyway, and he'd chosen the most secluded and isolated part of the beach. True to his reasoning, there was no one about. He swirled the water with a hand listlessly. And took another shaky step further, shivering. Soon enough he was completely submerged. Well, up to his shoulders at least. And then he just... Floated there. On the spot. Not feeling very much more enlightened at all but.. Perhaps somehow more at peace. In a way. If he disappeared right now, would anyone even notice? The waves lapped at the shore and if he drifted off with them, rode the back of one of those foam horses, would anyone care? What was stopping him? Sitting there in the cold water, fading black skies... It was oblivion. And it was blissful.

And it was over all too soon.

"What are you doing?"

Somehow he didn't jump. Perhaps it was being so loose like that, all floaty and drifty and nothing. But regardless he didn't jump. Moreover the voice, though coming as an interruption, was not sharp and sudden. It was sort of... Low but not rumbling, soft and strong and... Hard to describe on the spot. It did not unnerve him in spite of his somewhat more vulnerable state.

"Having an episode." He stated simply, receiving something of a chuckle in return. It was then that he decided he did not know the voice. And that he thought they were too old to be a child or a teenager wandering out looking for trouble. It was somebody older than that. Someone with standing perhaps. Certainly someone more than entitled to judge him. And yet he didn't for once give a shit.

"I see." The voice came again. Lovino just continued to stare up at the sky. It was so dark. So dark tonight that he couldn't even really see stars. He liked stars. Well you know, no more than he supposed other people did, but he liked them all the same. "And uh, what is an episode?"

For some reason, Lovino felt cross at that question. Mostly he suspected because he didn't know what to say. "You know." He grumbled, though of course this was clearly not the case or the stranger would not have asked, now would he? Simple logic explained that one easily. It was such an unfair question. But he began to babble something of a response. "It's... It's like.. You know when you think you're going a bit mad.. A- And you just sort of lose it and stuff. And sometimes, like.. I mean, it's a recognised thing." He felt the need to stress that upon his questioner. "When you're losing it and you just have.. A moment." He summarised finally.

Against all odds, the voice seemed to accept this. "I see, I see." It was at this repetition that Lovino thought to chance a glance upwards at who exactly was speaking to him. It was a man, as he'd knew at once from the tone. And he congratulated himself on having identified a couple of other features accurately in his guessing. He was older than Lovino, clearly taller even whilst sat down, and appeared to be strong and nicely filled out. He had a wild head of chocolate curls, prominent laughter lines and a seemingly constant grin that Lovino put down as the cause of them.

"I... I'm not mad." He felt the need to protest such a notion, despite the fact that the other hadn't said that. He just hated the thought of him thinking it. And yet, at the same time, he had to admit. "But I think I might be getting there."

"You reckon?"

What a strange response that was. "Well... Yes."

"I don't. I think swimming naked in the dead of the night is a perfectly valid hobby."

Lovino bit his lip, unsure of whether that action was from sheer bewilderment or the freezing cold of the water. "... I think that says more about you than it does about me."

The other snickered again. He really was an odd guy, Lovino decided. He supposed his first clue would be that the man would have had to have been walking along a deserted beach in the dead of the night in order for them to even have met. "Perhaps. Can I ask;" He did not wait for an answer to that. "Is this sort of activity very associated with such episodes?"

He considered. "Well... I.. I've heard somewhere that people do it. When life is slipping away and shit. It's supposed to jog something. I don't know. You figure out the answers to everything that's going wrong." The shrug as he spoke was probably proof enough that he didn't exactly buy into the nonsense that he was spouting. But he was desperate. He just wanted something to fix the way he had been living. He was so stupidly miserable, so devastated by everything that had happened recently. He couldn't cope. He hated feeling like this, alone and scared and unhappy. It got to the point where it physically hurt him. And he didn't know what to do to fix it. And if a swim in the ocean promised to fix all of that, he would take it. He needed to go back to normal. He was anxious all the time, avoiding even people he liked. Terrified that... That he'd be found, and it would all start over again. But also wishing that he might return to what had at least been some continuity, a semblance of routine, even if it had been brutal. Thinking like this soon got him crotchety again as he tried to hide his fear and emotion. But he couldn't and he knew it. Instead he fell quiet and hoped that he could somehow blag his way through. A few minutes passed and he grew brave enough to take a glance upwards again. He was half-expecting, half-hoping that he'd left.

He hadn't. In fact he was still looking at him intently. Even as they had a conversation in which judgement would be not only justified but Lovino actually expected it, the man regarded him as... Equal in his stare. He looked at him with unwavering respect. Lovino... Wasn't used to that. He lowered himself again with a little splash. As far as he was concerned there was nothing else to ask now. He'd received and accepted the explanation about what exactly Lovino was doing, so that was that. There was no room for further questioning, nothing else to bring up. He didn't care anyway, right? They were complete strangers. Though it did beg the question what the hell this guy was doing awake. Lovino waited a moment more and then opened his mouth to address the issue but the stranger beat him to it. Lovino looked up at him again, righting himself a little such that it was easier to look out across the waters at him, but he still remained low, somehow feeling safer that way, even if every movement in the cold water felt like knives dancing over his skin. It was almost soothing though in a bizarre unexplainable juxtaposition.

He smiled, a lazy smile. Lovino did not reciprocate. "You know," The man began somewhat charmingly, "I had thought for a moment that you were an angel." Lovino spotted the cross around his neck as though acting on cue.

"I don't think angels swim." He retorted blankly, and got just another little laugh in return. It seemed this man couldn't say anything without a bit of a laugh in his tone. He couldn't really see what was funny. Perhaps in a better mood, he may have done.

"Perhaps not." The stranger agreed. "Besides, you have no wings."

"Oh yeah." Lovino nodded, almost surprised that that hadn't come to his mind right away for being the distinctive thing about such a creature. "Why didn't I think of that?" He must be losing his edge with all the stress. Usually he'd have had some kind of cutting remark lined up about wishing he had wings to fly the fuck away from this weirdo or something of the sorts. Again, his thoughts would not have necessarily been eloquent. But they'd have made him laugh at least. And feel a little better about his predicament.

"Ah, well, you're having an episode." The stranger excused, "You can be forgiven."

Lovino felt a smile flicker across his lips a little at that and was surprised. "Damn straight." He responded, but would not show the stranger the smile his remark had elicited.

"Antonio." The word did not need explanation. Lovino sensed they'd reached an end of their current exchange. He was attempting to bridge a gap to a new one which was strange. He could understand the curiosity factor. Seeing someone... Well, what he did, he could understand the confusion, and a need to question, ask what was going on, but typically people did not try and keep up an interaction after they'd spoken with him. And certainly they didn't compare him to an angel. Honestly, it struck him that this guy was probably as weird as he was. And... Well, that deserved something. "Lovino."
Antonio meant priceless. He knew that. He had a cousin Antonio. He also once had a very strange teacher of a similar derivation. And historically there was the guy who forfeited any rights to the Roman Empire to chase an Egyptian queen. Priceless. They were all headcases. There was a trend occurring here, he thought as he looked back at the guy still grinning at him from a rock. On a desolate beach. In the dead of the night. But the chill in intimate places brought him back to the fact that he wasn't really in any position to judge. They stared at one another that little bit longer before Antonio spoke again.

"Are you the kind of person who cares about your hair at all?"

Lovino quirked an eyebrow. Was it some kind of trick question. "... Yeah."

"I thought as much."

"Does it matter?"

"You tell me."

Lovino was struck with that same feeling of being tricked again somehow. He wasn't sure if he trusted this guy or not. Especially when he pulled shit like this. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I mean," Lovino saw the look in his eyes as he replied. That grin became just the slightest bit more pointed. Those eyes seemed to flash, and his eyebrow twitched challengingly. Lovino didn't like it. And at the same time.. It excited something in him. Cocky bastard. "It just seems to me that that salt water can't be doing wonders for it..." He was right as well. Lovino winced as he realised. It would be clumpy and feel weird to touch and curl all strangely. "So I wondered; are there specific rules as to the location of these 'mental episodes'? Could you perhaps have one in the warmth and safety of.. Say, my shower? I've got plenty of shampoo." And then his smile changed again, much more innocent and less competing this time, trying to indicate that the offer did sprout from a genuine place of caring, even if it did flower in something slightly more suggestive.

Lovino paused a moment as he searched himself for the answer. What did he want to say? He supposed he knew that at least, but what he couldn't quite evaluate was whether or not it was a good idea to go through with. It was potentially risky, dangerous even. But hey, he was losing his mind, right? And that was the last thing to go as far as he was concerned. Nothing to lose. "O- Okay." He stammered, the temperature getting to him a little again. "But you have to turn around whilst I get out." He called across. As though all of a sudden he needed his dignity and privacy. Who knew how long the Spaniard had been watching. He'd probably already seen Lovino in his altogether, the bastard.

Antonio seemed surprised and elated that his offer had been accepted. "I don't live far." He promised, standing and turning trustingly and obediently. "Just up there, you see?" He gestured to a house at the top of the cliff the beach sloped up to. It stood alone, separate from all the other beach front houses. He supposed that explained at least a little why he was walking on the entirely secluded part of the beach. It was a nice house, but it did strike him with slight pangs of loneliness. He said nothing but Antonio continued yabbering on. "You should only need to put on your pants as it's so close - save getting everything wet. You can borrow something from me."

Stirring himself, he did as instructed, flicking the water off the ends of his limbs and hair and making his way slowly out of the sea. He pulled on the pants and gave Antonio permission to turn around again. They began the walk up the staggering cliff to the little house.

Lovino was not sure at what point they had started kissing. He was not even sure why - who proposed it, suggested it, initiated. It developed quickly and passionately and breathing and kissing fought for the rights to take up more time. They would stop every few paces and kiss again, like lusty teenagers, losing all boundaries or sense of normality. This pattern continued all the way up to the house, and didn't exactly stop when the door shut.

November 16th 1999

When Lovino woke up the next morning, he was naked. He supposed that wasn't a huge surprise. He'd been naked last night after all, and if he'd showered afterwards, it might just about follow that he'd been shaken up enough that he hadn't managed to change back into anything. On second inspection, he was wearing underwear, which was something of a relief. At least he'd seen sense enough to put on some sort of clothes. Soft sheets kissed at his skin, and noticing that they were white, he realised that they weren't his own. And then he started to panic. He bolted upright, knocking into someone. Feeling a human form beside him in bed just filled him with dread. A panic set in. Everything had been a dream, he was actually back in that big old house, the body beside him was real and stirring and ready to tell him-

But it was Antonio. And suddenly he remembered it all. Well, most of it. Some of it, maybe. He remembered the face, the eyes, the.. Lips. They'd fitted so neatly in the junction between his neck and collarbone, and were capable of being so very gentle and feather-light that they tickled, and in the same breath, firm and tender and leave behind little loving bruises that were licked better immediately by a skilled tongue. He took note of the arm draped loosely over his body. It was bare, as was what was visible of his shoulders and upper torso. His hair was somehow even messier than when it had been whipping about on the beach. After a few more moments of staring, he suddenly noticed that those eyes had flicked open and the Spaniard was watching him back somewhat amusedly. "Alright?" The warm voice sounded.

"F- Fine." He blurted, "I just- I mean," He tried to recover, resorting to a resting state of grumpiness. "Did we... You know, last night?"

And Antonio just laughed. He was coming to expect that from him really. He wasn't sure whether to take offence. "What, I'm that unattractive, you couldn't stoop to it?" He griped irritably, not enjoying the feeling of being laughed at like that, especially considering that last night he'd evidently been good enough to pick up at the beach, bring home and make out with for fairly prolonged periods.

"No." Antonio shook his head, refuting the idea at least and smirking up at him. "I just meant that you would have remembered if we had."

Lovino rolled his eyes, but he felt his cheeks flare up at least a little in spite of himself. "I wouldn't be so sure." He commented. "I... I really had no idea what I was doing last night."

"Come on Lovino. You know I'm a good guy. We didn't do anything that you didn't consent to. I would never take advantage of you like that."

Lovino scoffed. The guy barely even knew him and he was talking like that. But he said nothing.

"Besides, my intentions weren't even to... Well, you know."

"Well I mean I dont know that but whatever." He muttered.

"I'm not going to say I wasn't tempted." The other admitted. "But I mean, it's a very unfair test. When you live like I do in the middle of nowhere and somebody like you washes up on the shore, it does feel a little bit like a cosmic present."

"I'm not even listening to you anymore." Lovino lied. He turned his head and somehow their eyes met perfectly. Antonio was just smiling at him stupidly still, albeit in the morning light, the look was tinged with sleepiness. He leant his head on one arm, propped up slightly by pillows to look over at him. He was mostly covered but the gaps in sheets allowed Lovino a partially obscured view over the ripples of muscles along his chest. Hm. Well, it seemed he couldn't fault his taste even when losing his mind. He almost didn't even notice Antonio talking to him. "You know you look beautiful, all sleepy and pissed off." He was laughing again and flopped onto his back, looking up at the ceiling. Seeing this as the acceptable thing to do, Lovino seemed to be moving on impulse with little input from his brain. He slid down in the covers again, lying back and copying his glance upwards at the wash of paint. But... Not white paint. Blue paint. Swirling. Some white. And then dotted about, gold and yellow dancing as stars. It spoke to him somehow, bringing him back to that moment on the beach. Lovino hated that. "What are you, five?"

He waited for the snap, the irritation. Nothing. Antonio's lips twitched and he was ready. His breath hitched. Ready for some scathing comment, a shout. But it was just another smile. "I like stars."

A pause. He released the breath. "... So do I." But you know, no more than other people did.

Silence fell again.

"I.. I didn't see any stars last night."

Antonio just looked knowingly at him again, replying reverently, "I did."

"Oh yeah?" Lovino caught wind of the look then, and actually felt that same smile reappearing. "You're not going to say something really shit about finding me, are you?"

"Well I mean, not anymore." Antonio joked, sending that heart-stopping smirk his way again. A hand found his under the sheets and he didn't pull away. He wasn't sure how much time passed before the Spaniard spoke again. It could have been five minutes, it could have been fifty.

"Lovino... Are you okay?"

Was he? He thought that maybe, just maybe, at least right in that moment, he was.