"I've seen the way you look at me when you think I don't notice." Antonio murmured into his ear. "Does my not-so-little henchman have something he wants to tell Boss?"
The Italian's lip curled. "Like hell I do. And do you really have to bring up that stupid game we used to play?" He made an irritated noise. "I still have five hundred words to write and it's due in in four hours."
The two of them, now students at university, had grown up together. Both were studying medicine; Antonio to be a paediatrician, and Lovino aimed to specialise in Orthopedics. Much to the annoyance of their friends and acquaintances, they had both elected to ignore the painfully obvious attraction they shared.
Sometimes said friends were a hair away from locking them in a small room until they heard 'lewd noises'. They had yet to be pushed this far, but by the way the two of them were whispering in each other's ears like lovestruck teens… Let's just say that those studying in the library with them were being severely tested.
The study group at the table directly across from them consisted of a mechanical engineer, a couple of psychologists, and a language student who was really wondering why he had been dragged along into this. All he wanted was a little peace and quiet in which to do that poetry translation…
The ringleader was one of the psychologists, Elizabeta. She was the one grinding her teeth and having visions involving the storage cupboard not even a corridor away.
"What's he saying?" She demanded of the engineer, who may or may not have been gently coerced into putting together little gadgets.
Actually, there was no coercion involved. He was loving the clandestine James Bond-style feel of it.
"Well… I don't want to get your hopes up, but I think that 'Oblivious Moron' has finally noticed 'Sarcastic Little Shit's' pining stares." He grinned.
The other psychologist - the one who had dragged along the linguist and given the codenames - grinned. He pretended to make a note from his textbook. "I still say we should get them shitfaced at tomorrow's Sciences vs Arts social and leave them to it."
"Getting drunk isn't the answer to everything, Gilbert." Matthew, the long-suffering linguist boyfriend, didn't even look up from his textbook.
"Maybe, but it's worth a shot!" He snickered at the bad pun.
"Why are we even here?" He complained to the air.
"Just because I'm aro doesn't mean I can't enjoy meddling…" She replied grimly, focused on the two idiots sitting at the table across from them.
Somehow, neither Lovino nor Antonio had realised that their dancing around each other was a spectator sport. Lovino was still typing furiously, striking each key like it had done him a personal harm. As Antonio had pointed out, in the breaks between paragraphs, he sent longing looks at the other. It was during one of these glances that a loud yelp echoed through the library.
A certain Spaniard had crept up while the Italian was intent on his work and draped himself over the table, eyes peeking over the top of the screen. Lovino flicked his gaze up and met, out of the blue, those almost hypnotic emerald green eyes.
"Aha! You were looking! I knew it!" Antonio crowed, far too pleased with himself.
"You - you bastard! You almost gave me a damn heart attack!"
"We're in a room full of medical students. The risk was low."
"Are you fucking kidding me?"
Antonio grinned. Lovino's heart almost stopped, as it always did at that goddamned unfair display of beautiful delight.
"Lovi… I really really like you, you know? And I'm fairly certain that you really really like me back, even if you won't admit it."
He still hadn't moved from what had to be an incredibly uncomfortable position. Lovino closed the laptop and slumped down in his chair.
"And what if I did?" He asked, a little warily.
"Then I'd ask you if you wanted to stick with me tomorrow night, maybe?"
"...I might."
With long experience of translation from Lovino to normal person, Antonio beamed. That was as good as a confession of undying love!
