Tomato Juice

As a small tradition, the two lovers always made sure that they were home on time from work to enjoy a nice home-cooked meal together. And since it was the third Saturday of that month, Antonio had the shift of whipping something up. The ritual the two of them shared was sacred, Antonio adored cooking for his beloved little Italian whenever he had the chance. However, ever since Lovino had gotten a job at his Grandfather's Italian bistro downtown, it was difficult for the two of them to just sit down and enjoy dinner together. The strain on their relationship became apparent when all they did was work, so they made the pact: on Saturday nights at six o'clock, come home and either prepare the meal or set the table. The tradition had gone on for nearly a month now, and the Spaniard and Italian's relationship had been better than ever.

But it was seven-forty-five, Antonio was already finishing up his signature Paella by chopping up some ripe tomatoes from the garden (all while wearing his favorite pink apron), and Lovino still hadn't come home from work.

The Spaniard looked at the time, a grimace gracing his tanned face. Ay, of all the days to be late. He sighed dejectedly, slicing the plump red fruit into perfect slivers and decorating the dish. He tried to busy himself by taking up Lovino's job and setting the table with poor attempts to keep his eyes away from the clock. Antonio lined the mahogany dining table with an array of savory dishes, from the steaming seafood Paella, to garden salad, and to the mouth watering Tres Leches and Coconut Kisses. Small tea-light candles adorned the table as well, giving the dark room a warm and evanescent glow. Antonio stepped back and looked at his handy work, then subconsciously at the clock. Eight-fifteen.

Heart sinking, Antonio took a seat at the table, fishing his phone from the fanny pocket of his apron and dialing the Italian. It didn't even ring, just went straight to voice-mail, "Yo,this is-a Lovino. If you are-a that French or Potato bastardo, fuck off. If are-a that Spanish bastadro then-a leave a fucking messa-"

Antonio hit the End button, his heart sinking further. Did he turn his phone off? Or did it just die? He always forgets to charge it so maybe that's it...

His disappointment rang loud in the silence of the house, reverberating against the walls and back into the Spaniard's heart. This was so unusual of his boyfriend, he was the one that proposed they have dinner together every Saturday night. And yet he wasn't there to keep his promise.

Chin in hand, Antonio sighed again, reaching for a tomato sitting in a small wicker basket and rolling the pulpy fruit in his calloused hands. He knew he would wait, and when Lovino came home he wouldn't be mad either. So he waited, playing occasionally on his phone or picking at pieces of the Paella when he was unable to ignore his hunger. He eventually got so hungry that he bit into a tomato as if it were an apple, too dejected to wipe the juice off his chin. Time and time passed, the hands on the clock making their way along the right side of the face. The Paella had gone cold and the Coconut Kisses had deflated and lost their luster. And with the gradual advance of time, Antonio fell asleep with his head in his arm, his hand still clutching the half-eaten tomato.

SLAM!

Antonio was startled awake by a noise that sounded like the front door. He looked up from his drool-soaked arm, his eyes bleary from sleep. Blinking a few times, he could make out the figure of his boyfriend stumbling through the door, swearing aloud in slurred Italian. Both excited and concerned, Antonio jumped from his seat at the table and rushed to his lover.

"Amor, where have you-"

"Fuck! My-a head hurts, don't talk so damn loud!" Lovino wobbled away from the latter, bumping his ass against the front door. The smell of alcohol was thick on his breath and burned Antonio's nostrils.

"Lovi, are you drunk?" He couldn't believe it. Lovino had missed their sacred ritual to go get shit-faced? The Spaniard would have been mad, furious, actually. But in a more maternal sense than in an angry-boyfriend one.

"I-a, I-a...fuck." Lovino tried to grasp for a complete sentence, grabbing his head at the pulsing headache of drinking yourself from under the table. He teetered to the side and tried to save himself unsuccessfully by failing out and knocking over a lamp on a nearby table stand. The clay piece crashed against the hardwood floor, the shattering noise and splintering sound. Lovino flinched then groaned at the noise, gripping his head tighter.

"Here, sit." Antonio guided his intoxicated boyfriend to the dinner table, sitting him in the chair he himself had slept in and flitting to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water. As he ran a glass under the tap he glanced at the clock, the hands reading eleven-thirty-two.

Trying to ignore the fact that his boyfriend was five hours and thirty two minutes late, he brought the glass to the ailing Italian, who was pathetically slumped in the chair and groaning what seemed like prayers in Italian. "Drink."

Lovino immediately stopped his petty praying and seized the glass, nearly inhaling it before slamming it down on the wood table. He sighed contently as the worse of his headache was still there, but beginning to ebb away. He didn't even look up as he picked up the glass and waved it in his boyfriend's face. "More, this time with-a ice."

Antonio silently obeyed, taking the glass and slipping away into the kitchen. As Lovino's pressure headache was being neutralized by the blessed properties of H2O, the Italian finally had the opportunity to take in his surroundings even if he was still pretty drunk. His eyes fell on the dancing flames of the tea-light candles that were strategically placed around the dining table. Dishes of different colors and shapes and sizes were lined along the surface, the slight smell of seafood and seasoned rice wafting to Lovino's nose. It took a few moments, he was first confused at the unusual amount of food on the table, then he figured Antonio had cooked it. But why? Then it hit him, it was Saturday. Antonio had cooked because they were supposed to have dinner together tonight. Five hours and thirty-two minutes ago.

Fuck.

Lovino whirled around in his chair, just in time to see Antonio shuffle out of the kitchen with another glass of water and a bottle of aspirin. Looking upon his boyfriend he instantly noticed the downcast look on his usual sunny face. His brilliant green eyes were shadowed with a type of somberness, disappointment. Lovino's heart clenched, he knew he had fucked up big time. How could he have forgotten? He had only meant to have one drink with his Feliciano and Grandpa before he went home. They were celebrating a busy night, and one drink became a dozen, then a dozen more. He got so drunk that the little romantic tradition he had kept with his lover had completely slipped from his mind. And now here he was, having to be fussed over like a child, after breaking the Spaniard's stupid little heart, the one Lovino held so dear to him. Dammit, you-a fucking suck.

Antonio crouched down beside the latter, taking his hand in his and shaking two pills from the bottle into his cupped palm. He then handed Lovino the glass of water, which he took gratefully and downed in three seconds flat with the medicine.

"Grazie," Lovino swallowed down the pill, looking sheepishly at the latter and searching for any indication that he was mad. He didn't see any, just his big green stupid puppy dog eyes that Lovino always seemed to lose himself in...

He grabbed a fist-full of Antonio's chocolate curls, yanking him up and smashing his mouth onto his. Lovino kissed his boyfriend feverishly, his tongue sloppy against the Spaniard's plush lips. Antonio kissed back, but tenderly, not allowing his mouth to open so the latter could gain access. He was so wasted that he didn't notice this, however, he continued to slobber all over his lovers mouth, eventually pulling away with a string of saliva connecting their lips. The Italian panted, a little dizzy from lack of oxygen.

"I'm-a sorry..." Lovino whispered, looking down at his hands. Suddenly embarrassed. Of course Antonio was pissed. Why wouldn't he be? Lovino could feel his face heating up in absolute mortification. His face went up to his tomato-red face, mussing up his hair in the process. "I-I didn't mean to-a forget, I-a-I just, um..."

"Lovi," His voice was calm, his accent a soft purr. The Italian looked up from his hands to find his lover looking deep into his eyes. Glassy emeralds peeked through his long, dark eyelashes, his lips moist and lightly pink from the kiss. Shadows in the candlelight danced along his soft cheekbones and chiseled chin as the light illuminated the deep brown of his beautiful skin. Lovino could feel his heart racing in his chest as he gazed upon the latter. He was so handsome. So beautiful.

Antonio cupped Lovino's face gently, as if he were a china doll and would break at any moment. His fingertips lightly grazed the crest of his jawline, his touch leaving trails of fire in their wake. The Italian's heart beat so loud that he was afraid Antonio could hear its drumming too. God, he was so nervous, blame it on the booze but he couldn't seem to get a grip on himself.

He kissed Lovino, this time he was in charged. His soft lips brushed gently against the latter's, occasionally nipping at his bottom lip. The light brunette loved it, he wanted speed things up but was worried Antonio would pull away again. The Spaniard continued the delicate brushes and nips, the taste of whiskey light on his mouth. Finally, Antonio picked up the pace, his kisses becoming more passionate. His large hands ran up along Lovino's sides, resting on his shoulders then running back down to his waist. The latter returned the intimacy, locking his fingers in Antonio's hair and pushing his body closer.

Shuddering at the feeling of Lovino's hands tugging lightly at his hair, Antonio dived in. Strategically, he reached down and gave his boyfriend's ass a firm squeeze. As expected, Lovino gasped at the action, allowing for Antonio to easily slip his tongue into the other's. He kissed his Italian feverishly, his tongue swirling around his. Lovino retaliated, using his tongue to tie around Antonio's as he fisted his hair. He couldn't help but moan, the feeling of the Spaniard's careful hands exploring his body as he took dominance over his mouth. His moan was muffled under Antonio's lips, but audible enough to twang a nerve inside of him. "Mm...Antonio."

Antonio snapped, wrapping his arms underneath Lovino and lifting him up onto the dining table. The dishes clattered at the sudden change in weight, and Lovino had to quickly avert his hand before it landed in the Paella, but quickly regained his ground as he wrapped his legs around Antonio's middle and pushed him against his pelvis. The two lovers made out passionately on the table, the Spaniard asserting his dominance as he leaned the latter down onto the table, not allowing his lips to leave his.

Smug at the reaction he was eliciting from his partner Antonio broke the kiss and honed in on the soft, lightly tanned skin of his neck, brushing chaste kisses up and down the expanse of flesh. God, he wanted Lovino so bad, he couldn't stand the delicious groans much longer. He decided to turn things up a notch, finally get the ball rolling and reach for the Italian's signature curl that jutted out precariously out the right side of his head. Taking the thin piece of hair in-between the pad of his forefinger and thumb, he rubbed it slowly and waited for the magic to happen.

"F-FUCK!" Lovino reacted instantaneously, arching his back violently at the sudden surge of pleasure. His breaths became ragged as all the blood and heat left his body and rested in his crotch. He was so aroused, ready to break free from the confines of his pants. But he knew that Antonio was a tease, he wanted their lovemaking to be savored and to last for as long as possible. "You-a fucking tease."

The Spaniard chuckled, becoming aroused himself as he watched the latter come undone at his touch. He couldn't deny the pressure building up in his pants, ready for some sort of outlet. He would keep the charade on for a little longer, but not for too long now. With the careful peeling off of Lovino's shirt, Antonio engulfed the rosy bud of his left nipple into his hot mouth, suckling hard for a few moments then running his tongue around. He made use of the hand that didn't have a firm grip on that arousal spot, cupping his right breast and rolling the nipple under his thumb.

The sensation was thrilling, amazing, Lovino writhed and moaned and whimpered and the assault on his senses. Having to wait when he was so aroused and intoxicated both annoyed and turned him on immensely. But he wasn't going to wait any longer, he needed it. Right now.

Lovino gripped a good handful of Antonio's hair, lurching him up away from his sensitive chest. He looked at his boyfriend in surprise, his emerald eyes cloudy with lust and lips deliciously moist. The hold on his curl loosened, allowing Lovino to have the opportunity to gather himself if only for a moment.

"Fuck me." The words fell out in a drunken rush, grasping oxygen as Lovino regained his breath. "I-a can't take it anymore. Just fuck me, Antonio."

A chord, a nerve, something inside Antonio snapped. Maybe it was the burning hunger radiating from Lovino's beautiful cinnamon-colored eyes, his flushed cheeks and freckled skin, or the way Antonio could feel his rock hard bulge straining inside his pants. With tactful fingers, he used one hand to reach for Lovino's belt buckle, quickly unlocking with such skill that his boyfriend would have been thoroughly impressed if he wasn't so drunk. Potent alcohol mixed with the heating arousal forming in his jeans, Lovino could barely contain his excitement as his lover continued to peel every piece of clothing off of him.

His button-up work shirt was discarded to the floor, followed by his black slacks and belt. All that was left were his red boxer briefs, a gift Antonio had gotten him for Valentine's Day a couple of months prior. He now eyed them hungrily, slowly pulling them down his hips until Lovino's rock-hard erection sprang free from it's confines.

"Ay, amor. You're already really hard." Antonio smiled that stupid smile that always seemed to make Lovino's heart melt. He blushed then opened his mouth to slur a retort that was destined to be laced with at least a few profanities, until suddenly his shaft was taken into the Spaniard's hot, wet mouth.

"Nngh!" Lovino rocked his head back, elbows banging against the Coconut Kisses and sending them rolling along the table. Legs trembling, and breath hitched, the sensation of Antonio's mouth playfully lick the bell of his sensitive cock was enough to send him in a tizzy. He fastened two hands on his lover's head and squeezed his thighs around his head to keep him in place. Antonio chuckled softly, mouth full. The dark brunette went slow, suckling on the head then moving his tongue around the folds of the head and down the shaft to the base. He paid close attention to each curve and nook, frequently running his tongue along the major veins that protruded like road maps along the erect organ. Lovino could barely contain his mewls of pleasure as he watched the latter's head begin to bob up and down, completely deep-throating the entire length. The immense wetness and heat inside Antonio's mouth, plus his talented tongue that rolled and danced along the flesh felt absolutely amazing to Lovino. Antonio hollowed his cheeks, sucking harder then deep-throating the salty skin once again. Green eyes peered up at his lover, curious of the reaction he was getting out of him.

He surely wasn't disappointed, Lovino was a mess of arousal and the fading effects of alcohol. The Italian moaned lewdly, face flushed to the color of a tomato as he looked down upon the other. Deep brown eyes glassy, a usual sign to Antonio that his lover was going to orgasm at any moment.

And so he stopped sucking, releasing the Italian's throbbing erection with a loud pop.

"F-fucking bastardo..." Lovino whined, his knees still bucking slightly. The latter couldn't help but smile at his boyfriend's sad attempt at looking indignant, he looked more like a rejected little puppy dog.

Antonio smiled, giving him a quick kiss and then a flirtatious wink. "Not yet, amor. I'm not through with you."

Lovino gulped as Antonio tangled himself away from his legs. He stood up, peeling away his shirt and revealing a marvelous physique and abs that made every girl drool. Wasting no time, his pants followed quickly after, black boxer briefs being a thin barrier from his obvious erection. But he didn't remove them, instead Antonio went back to tend to his waiting lover. Moving the dishes to the side and giving a light, guided push to the other, he laid him down on the table and spread his lanky legs. The sight was glorious, his subservient boyfriend's erection pointing up to heaven, his testicles hanging just above a perfectly pink and puckered hole that Antonio had plowed into many times before. Making love to Lovino was a dream, everything he could have ever asked for. And now, he wanted to make sure he felt good.

Carefully, he slid a finger into Lovino's hole and didn't stop until he was completely engulfed to the knuckle. He heard his lover suck in a rush of breath through his teeth in an audible wince, then groan a quiet 'fuck' that sounded more in pain than pleasure. The Italian was awfully tight, perhaps still sore from the last time, so Antonio scanned for something he could use as lube. Saliva was out of the question, the last time he had tried that Lovino was so pissed and disgusted that they almost didn't finish. So the Spaniard looked for the next best thing, and then he found it.

Antonio reached across the table, picking up the half-eaten tomato that laid near Lovino's head. The light brunette gaped, dubious. "You-a can't be fucking serious."

"Worth a shot." He squeezed the ripe fruit, it's thick juice mottled with yellow seeds oozing from the red flesh. Oh, yeah. This would work.

Coating two fingers with the tomato juice, Antonio tried once again entering the tight hole. This time it was easier to enter and Lovino didn't flinch. Proud by his clever idea, the Spaniard began pumping in and out of the hole, scissoring every so often to prepare him. The lube from the tomato made a loud squelching noise and oozed a little back out of the orifice when Antonio slid his fingers back in. Lovino wiggled at the intrusion, moaning softly and secretly liking the feeling of the new hand-made lube.

They continued this for a few more minutes, and after determining that Lovino was ready, Antonio pulled out and shucked off his boxers. His monster length broke free, the tip an angry red. He squeezed the tomato onto his erection, coating it in the slippery substance then positioned himself at Lovino's entrance. But even though Antonio wanted to plow into his lover as hard as he could at that moment, he still wasn't all the way through playing at this game. Like the horrible tease he is, Antonio only pushed the head of his cock inside of the Italian, grunting at how the hole tightened immediately.

"Mm..." Lovino groaned at his lover's enormous size entering him. But it was only the tip, which was a little unusual. He sat up on his elbows, giving his boyfriend a questioning look. Antonio responded by taking the latter's erection in his hand and palming it slowly. As much as it felt good to be touched that way, Lovino just wanted to get to the point. He was sick of beating around the bush, he wanted the release.

Twisting up his face in annoyance, Lovino tried to wrench Antonio's hands from his cock. "What are-a you doing? Just fuck me already!"

Something twisted then snapped inside the Spaniard. At Lovino's command, he shoved his hands away, looking his lover deep in the eye with a look so dominant and menacing that the Italian froze like a deer in headlights. A deep, husky Spanish accent fell from his browned lips as he loomed over the latter. "You're not allowed to touch."

Lovino shuddered, then let out a short cry, then suddenly Antonio felt something hot and sticky splatter his toned stomach. Looking down in surprise, he realized that his boyfriend had came at the sound of his voice.

A voice fetish? Now that's a surprise. Antonio raised a curious eyebrow. Lovino blushed so hard that his freckles disappeared under the red flush.

"Hm, I didn't know you had such a lewd fetish, amor." The Spaniard chuckled, causing the latter to blush even harder if that was possible.

"Sh-shut up! Just hurry up and-a fuck me alr-FUCK!" Lovino gasped as Antonio plunged deep inside. His thrusts were quick and hard, it seemed like he had also had enough of his teasing. Now it was all serious business, the slapping of skin against skin and the fevered moans and grunts of both lovers emitting throughout the house. The table wobbled under the weight and the dishes clattered noisily at the force. Tomato juice splashed out of Lovino's hole in loud squelches as the thrusts became deeper and harder. To hit his special spot, Antonio seized one of the other's legs, hooking it over his shoulder then plowing at an angle inside. When he rubbed against the prostate, Lovino arched with a shaky moan. He was already getting hard again, so Antonio took his length in his fist and pumped to the rhythm of his grinding.

"You like that, cariño?" Playing on Lovino's newly discovered predilections, Antonio growled seductively to his partner as he pounded him. The latter tried responded with a strained 'fuck you', but was in so much pleasure that the words came out in moaning croaks. God, it felt so good. The two lovers were so close to the edge, each of them moaning each other names in between grunts. They were so loud that it was almost positive that the neighbors could hear them along with the rest of the neighborhood. But they didn't care. The room was thick with the sounds and scents of hot, dirty sex, and the men were coming undone. Lovino was the first to go, unraveling with one last thrust inside of him and pump to his shaft. Ropes of white striped their abdomens as he came again with a strangled cry. Antonio came shortly after a few more hard thrusting, the sounds of his lover's orgasm and the constricting tightening of Lovino's hole being enough to take him out. He released his seed inside, it oozed out slowly as he pulled out, the color a light pink from their makeshift tomato lube.

The two fell together in a sweaty heap on the table, their breaths ragged. They laid there for a few moments, savoring the after-glow of their explosive climaxes. Finally, their breath was regained and Lovino broke the silence.

"Sorry for-a forgetting about Saturday dinner."

Antonio sighed softly, rolling off of him and resting his back on the table. "It's okay."

"You must've been really upset."

"Si, I was. But not anymore." Lovino turned his head to look at him, then sat up on his elbow.

"Why? Because we-a just fucked?"

Antonio glanced at him then smiled, his eyes glittering with mirth. Then, propping himself up on his elbow he stared into his lover's eyes in complete adoration. "No, because you said sorry for the first time ever."

Lovino gawked at him for a moment, a mixture of anger and shock on his face. The look sent Antonio into a fit of giggles that were so infectious that Lovino had to smile.

"Shut up, bastardo." He tried to sound harsh, but he was too giddy to sound mean. Antonio beamed, leaned forward and captured his lips in a loving kiss. They kissed each other, a gentle one that send shivers down your spine and electricity crackling through your veins. The two only pulled away for air, but the moment wasn't broken with the kiss.

"Te amo, amor." Antonio whispered.

"Ti amo, amore." Lovino whispered back as exhaustion crept up behind him. He nestled back on the table as he fell asleep, mumbling softly before he slipped under. "You're-a still a bastardo, though."