Francis Bonnefoy worked for the local newspaper ever since he requested that they should have an "Ask Francis" column in the paper every day. Letters have been sailing in ever since, and many people only bought the paper so that they could read Francis' advice of the day. So, pretty much, Francis was a local celebrity.

The French man sighed contently as he sat down at his desk and pulled open his drawer filled with un-read letters. Like always, he picked out ten random letters to read, and he would pick the most interesting one to put in the paper. That particular day was different, though. Francis narrowed his blue eyes at one of the ten letters, before his entire face lit up "Oh! That's Antonio's address!" he squealed before ripping the letter open. Francis blinked in confusion as he scanned the letter. Well, that obviously wasn't Antonio's writing. Also, the letter didn't sound like him at all. Francis read the letter again more carefully.

Dear Francis,

I became desperate looking for answers. That's why I'm writing to you of all people. Thank God I can remain anonymous.

Anyway, so lately I've been getting pissed off at my gardener because he's so damn happy! I'll tell him to go die in a hole and he'll laugh it off. I constantly insult the bastard and all he does is give me that retarded grin and call me his little tomato! I am NOT a fruit! It's sickening I tell you!

Every time I see his stupid face my heart races…I don't know why, it must be from annoyance. Well, you're supposed to give me advice, so tell me what to do damn it!

From, anonymous

Francis stared at the letter for a good minute before he burst out laughing. So that hot-tempered Italian was seeking advice from him? Oh, that Lovino Vargas really did amuse Francis.

Lovino was also a bad liar even when he wrote a letter. Antonio is his gardener? Sure. "Oh hon hon…" Francis chuckled before typing out his response to Lovino's letter.

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Lovino literally ripped the paper out of the paper man's hand that Friday morning. The Italian stomped in the house that he shared with Antonio and flopped on the sofa, already flipping through the pages. He quickly found the "Ask Francis" column with that picture of Francis looking like a creepy perverted pedophile. Lovino cringed in detestation when he saw the picture, then immediately looked below to see if his letter was answered. Why was he so eager? Lovino didn't know why, and he didn't really care.

The Italian's amber eyes widened when he read his letter (with multiple censor stars) in the paper, "HE ANSWERED!" Lovino shouted, before looking around in embarrassment, hoping his "gardener" didn't hear.

"Heh, I am so smart. I think I covered my identity pretty damn good." Lovino praised himself, before shoving the paper back in his face.

Lovino's heart stopped when he read what Francis wrote back.

Francis' Advice: Tell him you love him.

"T-t-t…" Lovino stuttered, staring at the page in horror.

"TELL HIM WHAT?" Lovino burst out, slamming the paper on the wood floor.

"Lovi!" Antonio raced into the living room with a concerned expression, "What's goin' on? What's with all the yelling?"

"Shut up!" Lovino snapped, shoving his hands in his jean pockets as he paced around the living room, "I'm fine. I'm just disappointed over some…soap opera I was watching."

"But the TV isn't on," Antonio said.

"Yes it is! I mean, it was! I was so pissed off so I fucking turned it off! Why do you even care?"

"Alright, man," Antonio chuckled slightly, raising his hands, "Just being concerned, that's all. Dinners ready in ten, kay?"

"Mhm, kay." Lovino grunted, sitting back down on the sofa.

He stared at the abused newspaper on the floor before he ripped out a notepad and pen.

Dear Stupid Frenchie,

That was NOT the advice I was looking for, idiot! You've got it all wrong! Now give me REAL advice, you wine sipping bastard! Oh yeah…I'm the person who's letter you answered today. Email me at Tomato_lover_forever~

Bastard.

Lovino stuffed the letter in an envelope, scribbled down the mailing address and shoved it in the mailbox outside of the house. He stomped back in the house and sat down at the kitchen table with a scowl on his face.

Antonio glanced back at Lovino, then turned his attention back to the stove, "Who ya mailing?"

"Feliciano," Lovino lied, "He wanted to know the…new gas prices."

Antonio couldn't help but snort, "Um, okay, mi amigo."

"What? You think that's funny, huh, bastard? Gas prices can be fucking serious sometimes!" Lovino snapped, getting defensive.

"No, no, querido, I'm not judging. It's just a funny thing to mail when you can just pick up the phone." Antonio smiled back at Lovino before grabbing some plates.

"I'm being old fashioned. And what the hell does "querido" mean anyway?" Lovino frowned.

"If you listened during Spanish lessons, you'd probably know Lo-vi-no~!" Antonio sang.

"Shut up, bastard! Spanish is a stupid language. Why the hell would I listen?" Lovino growled, getting up to grab utensils.

Antonio simply sighed; his smiled never faltered, though.

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The next morning, Lovino nearly broke his laptop because to internet was acting slowly. When he signed in and saw that he had a new message from Francis, he jumped up and punched his fist toward the ceiling, "YES!" he cheered.

At that same moment, Antonio was walking by and stopped to give Lovino a weird look. Lovino glanced at Antonio and his face instantly turned a bright shade of scarlet, "Wh-what? I s-sunk my opponent's battleship, bastard!"

Antonio smiled slightly, "Are you okay, Lovi? You've been acting weird lately."

"Perfectly fine. You done? Great, thanks." Lovino said quickly, then plopped back in his computer chair.

Antonio reluctantly left, with a concerned expression on his face, "I wonder what's wrong with my little Lovi?" he mumbled to himself.

When Antonio left, Lovino clicked open the email from Roses-Are-Truely-Beautiful-Just-Like-Me

Dear Tomato Lover,

The advice I gave you is not some joke. I carefully read over your letter again and it makes perfect sense. The constant insults and racing heart, it is an obvious sign that you like this man. Also, the fact that he is giving you a nick-name is a very good sign. If he can put up with you, that means he wants to spend time with you, and he can see a different side of you.

Don't ignore my advice; you both have feelings for each other! Damn it, whenever I spend time with you two, you two always glance at each other when the other isn't looking. Yeesh! It's obvious that you two are so sexually frustrated. Like, this one time, you were eating vanilla ice cream on a really hot day, and you were letting out content moans and sighs. Well, let's just say that Antonio was thinking other things and his pants probably felt tighter while he watched you lick that vanilla ice cream off of your slender fingers.

Oh, sorry, I got carried away. Anyway, tell him you love him. It's the right thing to do.

Love: Francis Bonnefoy

PS: I know it's you Lovino~! ;) 3

After reading that email, Lovino actually did break his laptop. That time on purpose.

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"Lovino Vargas, we need to talk." Antonio said with a frown, after he sat a scowling Italian down on the sofa.

"No we don't, mother." Lovino grumbled.

"Lovi, don't tell me you broke your laptop because someone sunk your battle ship." Antonio sighed.

"THEY DID!" Lovino snapped.

"Lovi, your pupils are dilated, and you're avoiding eye contact. Also, your face is as red as a tomato, and your hair curl is sagging. The curl never lies, Lovi!" Antonio said, sitting beside Lovino.

"What the fuck?"

"Lovi…" Antonio said, looking into Lovino's eyes, "Francis called me earlier and said you need to tell me something."

"For fucks sake! Did he say what? And I-um…no." Lovino burst out, then broke the eye contact.

Antonio sighed, "I asked him, but he said it wasn't his place. Lovino…please tell me."

At that point, Lovino wanted his head to just explode. He wanted a meteor to crash into Antonio's house. Hell, he wanted anything to happen at that point! Well, except for Francis to burst in the front door with some slutty under wear on. He could feel his face burning, and his heart beat was pounding in his ears. Francis was right; Lovino really did love Antonio. He wouldn't just walk up and tell the idiot, though! Who did that? Lovino was so lost in thought that he didn't even realize that he was panting, and that his entire body was shaking.

"Woa, woa, Lovi! You're trembling mi querido." Antonio said, placing two firm hands on Lovino's shoulders.

"I-um-oh…" Lovino mumbled, "Okay, f-fine. I'll tell you!"

There was a very long silence between the two of them as Lovino tried to think of how he was going to say it. Antonio waited patiently, with a concerned expression still on his face. Finally Lovino looked into Antonio's eyes, surprising the Spaniard. There was fear in his honey-coloured eyes, but there was also determination.

"Antonio, I love you. Ti amo. Te amo!"

Antonio stared in shock, "What?"

"I-idiot!" Lovino growled, "Do I need to spell it out? Yes, I will, because you're stupid! I- L-O-V-" before Lovino could finish his rant he was cut off by a pair of lips gently brushing against his own.

For once, Lovino didn't push the Spaniard off. He hesitated slightly, then reached up and ran his fingers through Antonio's curly chocolate locks. Lovino then deepened the kiss. It was a kiss he had been waiting for since the first time he laid eyes on Antonio. As cheesy as it sounds, it was love at first sight for Lovino, and he hated it. At that point, Lovino didn't care about all of that. He only cared about the taste of Antonio's lips, the soft moans escaping both of their throats as Antonio slipped his tongue in Lovino's mouth, and going farther with Antonio. Much to Lovino's satisfaction, they clumsily found their way to Antonio's bedroom, and yes, they went much farther.

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The next morning, Lovino sat at the kitchen table, staring at nothing in particular. He let out a loud yawn and started to lazily eat his cereal. Lovino was tired, and his ass hurt like hell. Lovino had never been so happy, though.

"Hey, Lovi," Antonio said, entering the kitchen from the living room.

"What is it, bastard?" Lovino yawned.

"I found the paper from a couple days ago…and um…did you by any chance send Francis a letter at the post office?" Antonio grinned as Lovino's face quickly turned scarlet.

Lovino slowly chewed his cereal as he thought of something smart to say back, he swallowed and simply sighed, "…maybe."

Antonio walked over with a smile, and placed a gentle kiss on lovino's forehead, "Well now, Lovi, if it weren't for your desperate search for advice, we wouldn't of had last night, si?"

"Si…" Lovino mumbled.

Antonio chuckled and sat beside his new lover, "And you were wondering what mi querido meant? It means 'my dear', my love." He winked at Lovino and pecked him on the lips before sauntering back into the living room.

"H-hey bastard! You can't just call me lovey-dovey names when I don't even know that you're calling me them!" Lovino yelled at Antonio's back.

Antonio turned around with a smirk on his face, "Oh, Lovi, I can tell that you're happy to hear that."

And Antonio was right, Lovino loved it, "Maybe I should take more Spanish lessons."

A/N: Yay! I was cleaning out my closet and stumbled across this ;) I was like OMGWTFWOA and typed it up. I forgot all about this XD Reviews will really be appreciated~ :D:D Merci mon amis~ ;)