TITLE: Incoming Text Message
FANDOM: Hetalia
PAIRING: SPAMANO. GERITA, SEYFRA, AMERIMANO (past), and possible others.
SUMMARY: Lovino Vargas just wanted to text his brother's new cellphone. Instead, he accidentally texts this guy named 'Spain'. What the heck? Moreover, this guy just won't stop freakin' texting Lovino!
RATING: T
WARNINGS: Swearing, AU, fluff, cliché-crap, and OOC-ness.
WORD COUNT: 2207
SONG: Undisclosed Desires- Muse
a/n: Guys, stop. Seriously. Stop. Stop being so damn wonderful. I'm breaking out with cavities from your sweetness, and my dentist totally hates you guys right now. Plus my jaw is aching from smiling. Geez. You guys totally know how to butter people up. ;A;
a/n2: OKAY! So thanks to rainbow world, they found a very big, very glaringly obvious plot!hole in this story. You can find the notes on these plot!holes at the bottom of this chapter. P.S: All stores/diners I mention are FAKE.
a/n3: I know I told some of you guys you'd be surprised with this chapter. WELL I CUT THE SURPRISE OFF. I sort of ended this chapter on a fail!cliff hanger, only because it was getting choppy and wasn't flowing. Sorry to disappoint those I told about the 'surprise'. That will for sure be in the next chapter.
ANON REVIEWS
Fujoshi Anonim: Heh, I hope you're surprised with the development in this chapter. :D And once again: D'AWWWW! Adorable creepy nostalgia, ftw! X)
Treegone: I… I sort of love you right now. ;A; My idea is similar to that, but Spain doesn't know it's Lovi and vice versa. X) I've already decided who figures it out, when it happens, etc. B-but your ideas are VERY inspiring, and have definitely influenced this chapter. I HOPE YOU'RE PLEASED. Thank you very much, and I hope you'll stick around! *gives cookies*
Disclaimer: Do not own Hetalia (HIDEKAZ HIMARUYA), Messenger Bag (MARC JACOB), and iPhones (APPLE).
Right after Lovino gained his senses, he stuttered out his own name, pushed Antonio's hand away while saying "okay now get the fuck away from my door!", and slammed said chunky door in the Spaniard's face. He had basically all but forgotten a) Antonio already knew his name and b) well, he sort of needed a phone number.
But, apparently Antonio didn't think so. When Lovino peeked outside his door (when Antonio stopped saying "please open up, Lovi!" and Lovino stopped telling him to "stop calling me that, bastardo!"), Antonio was gone, and there was a post-it note carefully applied below the brass numbers on Lovino's rickety apartment door.
Meet me at White Eyes, Friday 8pm? :D
-Antonio
Lovino stared at the post-it note for a long time before he crumpled it up, tossed it in the wastebasket by his door, and pulled out his iPhone. He entered the date and time on his calendar, a frown on his face.
He really wasn't used to this. Yes, he flirted shamelessly with girls just like his younger brother, but that was more of a… hobby, as horrible as it sounds. He was good at it, it was fun, and girls giggling and smiling was cute. But romantic wise… Lovino was neutral when it came to gender (no Germans, though. Those potato sucking bastards can go back to Germany, damn it!). He hadn't been on a proper date since… middle school. And that was with Alfred, when they were both confused as fuck with their feelings.
Lovino put a hand to his cheek, mortified as he felt the heat radiating off of it. Was he still red? Ugh, he cursed his family for his blushing problem. They all got so rosy, so easily. But Lovino's was the worst. Damn hereditary genes.
The Italian flopped onto his couch, signature flyaway curl bouncing with the movement. He pulled out his assignment from the bag, ready to finish it and get on with his life.
Ping.
Or not.
Okay, so that was Spain. Should he reply? Should he ignore? His hand seemed to have a mind of its own, making him to hold up his iPhone, swipe the lock pad, and stare at the text. That's right. He changed Spain's caller ID name to Spain instead of The Bastard. Humph. W-whatever; that didn't mean anything. Lovino just needed clarification, that's all. He knew a lot of bastards, so putting a name to Spain didn't matter. Nope. He didn't think they were texting friends. Nope. Nope nope mother freakin' nope.
INCOMING TEXT: SPAIN
TO: LOVINO
Did you find your bag, amigo?
Spain
INCOMING TEXT: Lovi~
TO: SPAIN
Yeah, some guy brought it over.
-LOVINO
INCOMING TEXT: SPAIN
TO: LOVINO
Great! I'm so glad you found it! I'm sorry I made you lose it in the first place!
Lovino raised a brow. What the heck, the bastard-creep really cared? He texted back.
INCOMING TEXT: Lovi~
TO: SPAIN
Shut up, it was my fault. Don't get all whiny and shit.
INCOMING TEXT: SPAIN
TO: LOVINO
Yes! So, amigo, how are you?
Lovino didn't know what happened. Suddenly he was texting back and forth and spilling details (but not too many) about… his feelings about friends and school; he was more than a little surprised and scared about how open he was being. But, Spain was so coaxing and strangely… persuasive. It was like Lovino could talk to the phone creep and have no obligations; this guy would never meet him and vice versa (despite his earlier doubts, concerning his bag). It was almost like Spain could be… a safe zone.
It wasn't until midnight—just as he finished complaining about his professor who made them sing when tardy or unruly—when Lovino finally told Spain to stop fucking texting him so he could sleep.
"Ve~! Fratello! I'm home!" chirped Feliciano, tip-toeing into their house, keys jingling in his hands. He had spent the week at Ludwig's all week, and decided to come home. As soon as toed off his shoes and rested his keys down, Feliciano tripped over two pairs of shoes and a ratty old sweater. He looked at the ground and saw… a trail of clothing. Feliciano cutely tilted his head to the side. Why were there clothes and shoes lying around—?
"Hooolyy crap! You're so gay. Want me to sing you Katy Perry's song?"
"Alfred, shut the hell up. You're just as gay."
"Nu-uh. You got all this clothing-brand name… stuff. Dude, what the heck is Ralph Lauren? And G-Star? Sounds like G-string! I'm so confused!"
"Get your greasy burger hands off that denim. I will castrate you if you get food on these clothes."
"We all know that's inevitable. You bought me five burgers."
"You need to tell me how I look for tomorrow, dumbass! And did you recently acquire a dictionary or something?"
Feliciano stepped into Lovino's room, gasping as he saw piles upon piles of Lovino's clothing. Alfred was flopped on top of Lovino's bed, burger wrappers beside him. Lovino was in front of the American, arms across his chest and frowning deeply.
"Fratello, what are you doing?" Feliciano asked.
Lovino turned quickly, looking surprised. "C-chigi!"
Alfred waved hello, snickering slightly from the sound Lovino all but yelped. "Hey Feli! Your brother is trying on clothes for his date tomorrow night. He's Spanish or something—" Lovino threw a book at his head, promptly shutting the American up.
"Fuck you! It's not a date!"
Feliciano gasped, hands slapping against his mouth and cheeks pinking. "Ve~ you have a date? That's so amazing!"
"It's not a date!" his older Italian brother hissed, glaring at Feliciano. Feliciano was unaffected; too busy 'ooh'ing and 'ah'ing about the prospect of his older brother going on a date. Lovino rolled his eyes. "I'm getting coffee with the bastard who found my bag. He called it a reward."
"You lost a bag? Which one?" Feli asked, sitting on the bed by Alfred's feet. Alfred sighed.
"You know—that bag he protects like it's his baby."
"Alfred."
Feliciano giggled into his palm, smiling ear to ear. "Oh, fratello, looks like your bag helped you find some romance!" He wiggled excitedly, feet kicking up and a huge grin on his face. Feliciano loved playing matchmaker, and the idea of helping his brother for a date was making him super happy!
Alfred suddenly snorted and said: "Your bag bagged you a date." He puffed out his chest proudly at his joke, laughing boisterously. "Man, the hero always tells good jokes!"
Apparently Lovino didn't think so, since Alfred was hit with another inanimate projectile. Lovino didn't care for the whining Alfred started, and simply began pulling shirts off the ground, inspecting them with a critical eye.
"You're over thinking this, fratello. I thought you said you were just getting coffee with him?" the younger Italian brother said, coming off the bed with a bounce in his step. There was a teasing tone in Feliciano's voice and Lovino raised an eyebrow, hand on his hip.
"What? No way." he grumbled. Feliciano pointed to the clothing on the ground, and Lovino blushed, scowling deeply. "S-shut up, damn it!"
"I'm sure if he asked big brother for coffee, he'll like whatever you wear." Before Lovino could protest more, Feliciano scooped up an article of clothing. "Here, you always look nice in this." He gently placed it in Lovino's hands, and Lovino, despite his grumbling, nodded in approval.
It was a modern, geometric patterned jumper. It had a slouch cowl neck, the fabric soft and cozy to the touch. Lovino shuffled awkwardly as his brother smiled at him, proud of himself for picking out a shirt for Lovino's not-a-date date.
"T-…thanks." Lovino said, genuinely. As much as there was a lot of hurt being around his younger brother because of all the attention he received, there were those brotherly moments he appreciated. As Lovino gave a shaky smile, Alfred made gagging noises from his spot.
"You guys are way too mushy!"
Feliciano giggled while Lovino looked like he was going to choke Alfred. He stopped, mid-step to choke Alfred, when the American smiled and gave him a thumbs up.
"But you're going to look awesome." Lovino faltered as Alfred got off the bed, picked up some pants, and threw them in his face. "Just wear whatever. You'll look good, man.
Lovino held the jumper and the pants, staring at his smiling best friend and his grinning brother for a long moment. Then he broke out in a flustered blush, unused to the situation. "S-shut up. J…just help me find some shoes."`
Later that same day, Lovino had handed in his paper to his art history teacher, apprehensive and more than a little frightened by the way his teacher glared, snapped about how he was a day late, but then proceeded to praise Lovino about his opening statement.
Fuck, all his teachers were insane.
Needing to drown himself in the fattiest food possible, he took a bus to the local diner by Alfred's neighbour hood. As stupid as he felt about entering that 70's restaurant, it was safe and welcoming.
The metal door jingled as he opened it, it usual chime when customers entered. The place wasn't too crowded; just a few families in the back booths. A blonde came over, eyes wide and smile getting way too sinister for his liking.
"Why hello there." she grinned. "Welcome to Casey's Stop In And Dine. Would you like a booth, table, or bar seat?"
"Booth." He mumbled, beginning to sweat as she stared at him way too long. Usually he'd be flirting but…this girl was really starting to creep him out. Sort of like the Hungarian bitch from hell. She led him to the back booths, watching him as he scooted into the seat. Suddenly she blurted, "Are you Lovino Vargas?"
He frowned. "W-what's it to you?" Shit, that better not have came out as squeaky as he thought it did!
She seemed ot be trembling with excitement, suddenly squealing. "Ohgoshohgosh! Hi!" she thrust out her hand. "I'm Femke, but my friends joke and call me Belgium!"
Lovino shook her hand, confused as hell. "Yeah, I'm Lovino. How do you know?"
"Oh!" she took her hand away and giggled. "I'm Toni's friend. He was talking about you all morning!"
"Toni…as in Antonio?" Lovino asked, confused.
"Yup! Golly, you're adorable!"
"W-what?" Lovino flushed deeply and shook his head. "I am not adorable!" Fuck no! He was manly! The manliest man of them all!
"You do look like a tomato!" she squee'd. Lovino looked positively mortified at this point. He looked like a tomato? What the hell? Femke gave him his menu, winking. "Order whatever you want, it's on me. As Antonio's boytoy, I'll give you free burgers."
"B-boy toy?" he spluttered. He didn't get a chance to ask as she skipped away. He glared at his menu, already knowing his order.
When Femke came back, he told her he wasn't ready. She shrugged, and told him she'd be back in a few minutes.
Lovino squirmed uncomfortably—the only reason he told her he wasn't ready was because he was too busy thinking about how that stupid Spaniard was actually talking about him to his friends.
He sighed, running both hands through his hair.
This was turning out to be a weird week.
INCOMING TEXT: Lovi~
TO: SPAIN
Wait, so you grew up on a farm?
INCOMING TEXT: SPAIN
TO: LOVINO
Yup! We had fields of tomatoes and mi papá had a chicken coop. Mi mamá made our clothes and I helped her cook. We were really self-sufficient in Spain. Now I'm really lazy since I'm moved to Canada. :P
INCOMING TEXT: Lovi~
TO: SPAIN
You hick.
INCOMING TEXT: SPAIN
TO: LOVINO
Haha, I guess that does make me a bit of a farm boy, right~?
INCOMING TEXT: Lovi~
TO: SPAIN
You bet your ass it does. Anyway, don't text me tomorrow night. Or I'll kill you.
INCOMING TEXT: SPAIN
TO: LOVINO
Oh~ are you playing video games with your friends again? ;)
INCOMING TEXT: Lovi~
TO: SPAIN
No. I'm meeting up with someone.
INCOMING TEXT: SPAIN
TO: LOVINO
You mean like a date? :D
INCOMING TEXT: Lovi~
TO: SPAIN
No! It's not! I'm just getting coffee!
INCOMING TEXT: SPAIN
TO: LOVINO
;D
INCOMING TEXT: Lovi~
TO: SPAIN
STFU, SPAIN!
INCOMING TEXT: SPAIN
TO: LOVINO
Wait, what?
INCOMING TEXT: Lovi~
TO: SPAIN
You don't know what that means?
INCOMING TEXT: SPAIN
TO: LOVINO
No…?
INCOMING TEXT: Lovi~
TO: SPAIN
Never mind. For a texting-creep who texts back innocent callers, you sure don't know your abbreviations.
INCOMING TEXT: SPAIN
TO: LOVINO
Ah, so it was an abbreviation. And Lovi, I don't do this with everyone. Only you, Lovi~
INCOMING TEXT: Lovi~
TO: SPAIN
Stop flirting or I'll sick the Italian mafia on you.
INCOMING TEXT: SPAIN
TO: LOVINO
In Canada?
INCOMING TEXT: Lovi~
TO: SPAIN
I have connections, bastardo.
INCOMING TEXT: SPAIN
TO: LOVINO
I'll keep that in mind. Well mi amigo, I've got to get to work. I'll text you tomorrow-but-not-at-night? :D
INCOMING TEXT: Lovi~
TO: SPAIN
Like I give a shit if you text me back…
But if you do, do it before 8:30. Humph.
I'm such a cow. I'm making you all wait for the coffee date. I thought I should give some insight on Feli and Lovi's relationship (I stuck Alfred in cuz damn, I love him so!) and Toni's and Lovi's meaningless, yet quite personal-in-their-own-way conversations through texts. (THIS TAKES PLACE IN CANADA BECAUSE I'M A BOSS LIKE THAT)
P-please don't shoot me. ;A; I've got the beginning of their coffee date written, I'm just working on making it actually good. Because, I've never been on a date and I seriously don't know how they work. You can thank television, movies, music, and fanfics for my knowledge. :'D
NOTES:
First: How come Lovino knows Francis, but Francis didn't know him? I HONESTLY FORGOT ABOUT LOVINO THINKING ABOUT SEYFRA. FFF-/SHOT So let's say this: Lovino has heard about Francis and because of so many opinions about the man, he dislikes him. He's never actually met/seen Francis. Francis has never been told about Lovino because: do you really think when Michelle and Francis are living together, they're talking about anything about her friends? PFFT. They're FWB (friends with benefits).
Second: How did Lovino know Femke (Belgium), but she didn't know him? TOTALLY FORGOT I MADE HER A WAITRESS AT THAT DINNER. SHIII-/DOUBLETAP So let's say this: Lovino recognized her because she works there only some shifts, but he wasn't too sure because he doesn't go for burgers often. Femke doesn't recognize him because, duh, she's a waitress and doesn't get many shifts at the dinner (she works two jobs, ahahaha/SHOT), so she doesn't notice Lovino because A) he does not go there often and B) There are other people she'd be paying attention to.
Haha. I suck. ;A; THANK YOU, KIND REVIEWER. I AM ETERNALLY GRATEFUL.
TRANSLATIONS:
Bastardo- bastard
Amigo- friend
Fratello- brother
Mi- my
Papá- dad
Mamá- mom
STFU- shut the fuck up
-JANKZ