A/N: This is a continuation of 'Like a Bullfighter'. I'd stronglysuggest you read that first, because it has some key information that you'd miss otherwise. Anyway, on with the fic!

-3rd Person-

The sharp ring of an alarm clock echoed through the large room. It was ear-scraping, and hated by both inhabitants. A lightly-tanned hand reached out, smacking around the nightstand until it came into contact with the accursed device. Whacking it with a tightly curled fist until it silenced itself, the owner of said fist and alarm clock swore in a tired, slurred mixture of English, Italian, and Spanish, before retreating back into the safe cocoon of warmth the amazingly comfortable bed made.

It was only when the clock shrilly beeped again, having hit the snooze button and not the off switch, that the man sat up, angrily pounding until it shut off. Damn, did he hate that fucking alarm clock. The young man ran his hand through his auburn hair, blinking angrily at the time. He reached over, and smacked the older man next to him.

"Oi, bastard. It's time to get up."

Said other man curled deeper under the covers, retreating from the outside world.

"No…five more m'nites."

"I don't think so. I give you five, and you take twenty. Get the fuck up."

The lump groaned again, and Lovino definitely did not squeak as two toned arms wrapped themselves around his midsection, pulling him back into a laying position.

"Can't we just take the day off?"

"You ask me that every fucking weekday, Antonio. And I will always tell you, no."

"But why noooot-"

"What are you, a damn teenager? I have class, and you have work. So get up."

Antonio groaned once more, before giving his lover a peck on the lips and sitting up. Blinking drearily, he ran a hand over his face. It didn't help that the room was chilly, and his bed was warm. He flopped back downwards, wishing for that he could just spend the day with su amor. And good food. And other things~

But if he knew that if he suggested staying in again, Lovino would flick his forehead, or pinch his nose, or something like that. So he decided to just not ask again, and sadly gave up on his daydream becoming a reality.

These men were Lovino Romano Vargas and Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo, and this is where this story begins.

Sort of.

-3rd Person-

It was a fairly standard Monday for them.

The auburn haired younger male, Lovino, rose out of bed first, stretching his sore muscles. He winced a little at the stinging pain in his backside, a reminder of what happened late night that kept them up so late. It wasn't nearly as bad as when they first began their relationship, so it was more of a nuisance than anything.

He strode over to the closet, one of the top ten best reasons he started dating Antonio (the others were things like free, fresh tomatoes…good home-made food…and maybe a few hugs but whatever). It was now composed of about eight-tenths of his things, because the Spanish simpleton wasn't one for proper, fashionable attire. He had laughed and said that most fashionable clothes weren't comfortable anyway, and that's what he looked for in an outfit. So he only bought clothes when his old ones were worn to nothing, despite Lovino's obvious distaste.

Grabbing his clothes that he had prepared last night, he strode into the bathroom, relieved himself, and hopped in the shower. As it was running, he heard Antonio begin his own morning routine. It had taken quite a bit a cursing, shoving, and eventually bargaining on Lovino's part to get him to stop 'joining him' in the shower. Now it was promised on weekends and holidays, if Antonio got up when he did. It was actually pretty good incentive to get him out of bed on those days. Fucker slept like a brick who had chugged some Nyquil.

-Antonio-

Antonio's friends had teased him relentlessly about how 'domestic' he'd gotten, but he really couldn't care less. Yes, he went shopping. Yes, he cooked and cleaned. And yes, he stayed home while Lovino went to school. If that made him a 'housewife', then so be it. But Lovino was fighting an uphill battle in pursuit of his Architectural degree, and was dragging his minor in Business along with him. He needed to be able to focus as much as possible, especially since finals were coming up in about a month.

And he wasn't really needing for money, either, because of his inheritance (which he didn't really like using, but Lovino had made a point that his abuelo had left it for him, and using it didn't make him a bad person),so he sometimes helped Francis at 'L'Iris Espana', and sometimes he helped Gil bartend at Rebellion. He had promised Francis he'd help with the morning rush today, much to his chagrin. His friend had been in a panic because one of his main morning chefs was ill, so of course he had volunteered to fill the nine A.M shift in an effort to calm him down. He had told Lovi this, and he had gotten a smack on the head for being 'such a dumbass, seriously? You hate getting up in the morning; don't promise something that hurts you or inconveniences you so readily, damnit!'

But either way, his days were filled with his friends and his Lovi. Sure, he stayed home. But bullfighting season was over (and his had ended far earlier than others), and he was enjoying the more relaxed change of pace. And he was also enjoying being able to get up at all, because Lovino had all but blew a fuse whenever he tried to do anything after he'd gotten stabbed. It had taken an extra week on top if what the doctor suggested to get him to calm down and let him do things. He still went silent and ran his hand over the small scar it had left, which was a mere few inches from his stomach.

So he was enjoying his days (and nights as well~), living in a domestic haze with Lovino, filled with tomatoes, siestas, and happiness. So when he opened the door in the morning, wondering who could be visiting at this hour, he swung it open without hesitation.

Big. Damn. Mistake.

Aw, meirda,Lovino was going to have a fit.

-Antonio-