Cutting tomatoes and preparing the ingredients, Lovino started to put his plan into action.
When lips pressed to his skin, he gave a soft encouraging sigh, pressing back into the other's firm and muscled chest, squirming slightly as he wiggled his hips a bit. Lifting a tomato piece up to his lips, he pushed it into his mouth- and the tips of his fingers-, sucking softly before removing his fingers and chewing, some tomato juices running down his hand.
The tomatoes were delicious, and fresh, and they made him almost purr in satisfaction. He just had to act as though Antonio wasn't there, because trickles of anxiety still ran through his blood, and his heart pounded in his chest. But he wanted this; he wanted Antonio to be normal again, to stop acting like he was made of fucking porcelain!
"Oi, bastardo," Lovino uttered in his usual scolding tone, lifting another piece of tomato to his lips before pausing and nibbling lightly on an end, "You need to try these tomatoes." Instead of eating it himself, he directed the tomato to the Spaniards lips, pressing it forward to be eaten.
Leaning forwards, Antonio took a bite out of the tomato, his hand moving from where it had been touching Lovino to cover the Italian's hand with his own. It was only after the bite that Antonio had seen the juice dripping down that tanned skin, and before he could even think about what he was doing he had leant forwards, licking the juice up so that it would not go to waste.
Tomatos were nice, yes, but combining his little lover and Tomatos?
Well nothing could beat that taste.
As his eyes opened (he was still unsure of when they had closed), Antonio paused, tongue still pressed against Lovino's skin before realisation hit him like a brick in the face. All at once Antonio had pulled back from Lovino, a look of shock and pure disgust (At himself) covering his face.
"Ah.. Lo sentimos" Muttering his apology, Antonio looked to the floor "I'll go and prepare the table"
Damn Lovino's sexy body, his tasty Tomato's, and his ability to stun the Spaniard senseless.
Lovino blinked, stunned his face a deep shade of red, much the colour of the damn tomato that Antonio had just consumed. And damn it, he looked like he had enjoyed it too! Of course, shock quickly flitted to anger as the other pulled away and apologised.
"You will do no such thing, bastardo. Get some wine," he snapped with a huff, continuing to cut up more tomatoes. Damn it, he just had to try harder, it seemed. "If you want to spend time setting the table, fine, I do not care."
Of course, he really did care…
Picking up another piece of tomato, Lovino bent forward slightly to rest his elbows in a nonchalant way on the bench top, his back arched as he placed the tomato in his mouth, allowing some juices to dribble down his chin. "I bet these tomatoes will make me feel better than you could anyway." A slightly harsh and low blow, but he was trying to stir a reaction out of Antonio- challenging the man.
Would the Spaniard rise to the challenge, though?
Antonio felt a pang in his chest at Lovino's words, but as he stepped forwards to tell Lovino, to show him that he could pleasure the boy a lot more than any tomato, he was reminded once again of what he had done, that Lovino was telling him the truth when he said that Antonio couldn't make him feel as good as that little bit of food would.
How he envied that Tomato, with Lovino's lips running over it's red skin, how he wished to feel the tongue, but it was forbidden to him now.
A forbidden fruit he wanted so badly he was lost with desire.
Lowering his head, Antonio sighed softly before exiting the room, making his way to the dining room to set the table out for their meal. This was going to be a long night, he could already tell he was going to do something he would later regret.
Antonio did not just do that… Antonio did inot/i just walk out of the room with his head hung and refusing to touch him. Lovino stared after him with wide amber eyes, frown on his face and lips parted in shock.
H-Had he just not taken the bait?
Like a slap to the face, Lovino understood now that Antonio was still in ithat/i moment. Hadn't the Italian already said a million times that he had forgiven him?
Scowling at the meal before him, Lovino continued to cook, his hands shaking slightly in what he hoped was rage, and not a nervous relief. Because truth be told, it still made him anxious. But not scared, no! He wanted Antonio, and wanted him badly!
When dinner was finally cooked, Lovino managed to juggle the dish in his hands with the bottle of wine tucked under his arm, moving and placing them both on the set table before biting down on the cork in the bottle with his teeth, twisting slightly before yanking, the cork leaving with a pop sound.
Raising an eyebrow at the table, he noticed one thing missing.
Actually, two, if he counted correctly.
Wine glasses and Antonio.
"Oi! Dinner's ready!" Lovino called as he removed the cork from his mouth, fetching the wine glasses and setting them before each plate, pouring a decent amount in each.
If some tomatoes and a good dose of wine would help Antonio loosen up, then good. If not, Lovino himself would use wine as an excuse to start playing a bit dirty.
Antonio took his time making his way to the table, probably more than he really should have, stopping off at some pictures on the wall to examine them, time wasting really, until he finally stepped into their dining room, his stomach letting out a soft grumble as he let his eyes roam over the lovely food that his little Lovino had made for him.
Making his way over to the table, Antonio took his seat, admiring the food before glancing to Lovino. It was moments like these that made him anxious, he always wondered, in the back of his mind of course, if Lovino would ever poison what he had made for Antonio, as a way of getting his own back, or drugged his food so that he could hurt Antonio, they were small stupid thoughts, that was for sure, but that wasn't to say that Lovino didn't have every right to do so.
Ignoring the wine on the table (he hadn't put out the wine glasses for a reason), Antonio started to eat his food, and as the time passed in silence, Antonio had managed to finish off his plate, a smile gracing his face by the end of his male, setting his cutlery down as he looked to Lovino "Gracias Lovino"
That had been perhaps the most awkward dinner in a while or Lovino. He'd sat and eaten quietly, his heart drumming in his chest, now totally unsure of what to say. Normally Antonio was blabbing on about this or that, and he was responding with snide or smart remarks, telling him to shut up and eat or something of the like.
His nerves had helped him consume not only his glass of wine, but another one… and another…
Okay, so he was still recovering from his depression, and that had been to just drink wine until he was drowning in it. But he wasn't depressed now, just a bit anxious and needy. Gods… "You haven't tried the wine," Lovino pointed out, his tone of voice slightly huskier, his cheeks flushed red from the alcohol as he grabbed the bottle, giving it a little wiggle before Antonio.
"Do you want some or is this going to keep me company tonight, eh?" he asked, raising the bottle to his lips and teasing around the rim of the bottle with his tongue, sucking softly before taking a bit in his mouth, tilting the bottle back and drinking.
Fuck glasses.
This was tactic number two.
"I'm sure I could use my imagination on how to make myself feel even better with this and a few tomatoes, hm?" he practically purred, now cradling the bottle to his chest. At this rate, he'd end up forgetting his whole purpose for making the dinner and wine and just wind up drinking and getting himself all depressed.
Antonio better hurry up and kiss him or touch him or isomething/i already!
Antonio could hardly stop the frown that covered his face, standing up from his seat the Spaniard walked over to Lovino, something akin to sympathy in his eyes. Taking the bottle forcibly from Lovino, Antonio slowly walked away from his little lover and into the kitchen, pouring what was left of the bottle down the sink. He'd be damned if he let Lovino drink as much as he had that night, Antonio had been sure he'd gotten rid of all of the bottles in the house, so either Feli let him buy some more, or the Italian had been taking gifts of apologies from Francis.
Francis was the starter of all of his problems.
"Do what you like Lovino, but you've had enough to drink, perhaps you need to calm down"
The moment he had his bottle torn from his grip- and yes, he'd had a tight hold on his precious red liquid- his heart began a jack hammer beat in his chest.
Yes!
Forceful Antonio!
Antonio with spirit!
Antonio… Antonio… Pouring his fucking wine down the sink?
Oh son of a bitch, no.
"I don't need to calm down! I haven't drunk enough!" Lovino shouted out. He wasn't even slurring yet! He was barely tipsy in fact! Standing up, the Italian stumbled briefly before gaining his footing, moving into the kitchen to glare at the Spaniard's back with a now empty win bottle. Oh fuck was he getting riled up now. His fingers twitched briefly as he spied some more tomatoes.
Fine, Antonio wanted him to play dirty and resort to last measures? Fine. He would!
Acting as drunk as he could, the Italian stumbled forward, purposefully tripping over his own feet as he reached the tomatoes, taking one in his hands as his other hand went up- shyer than he would have liked to appear- to his curl, blatantly stroking it as he ran his tongue along the tomato's skin.
With a soft moan and whine, Lovino found himself leaning heavily on the wall, ignoring Antonio as he rubbed the stray curl between his fingers, stroking, tugging it so that it was straight before releasing, all the while moaning. He had to act drunk, and most drunk people got horny, right?
But still, he had to be careful. And really, would Antonio take the bait?
Now here was a mixture of feelings.
On one hand, Antonio felt sorry for Lovino, putting himself out like that, drunk and obviously mad at Antonio, but then on the other hand, he was angry, incredibly angry at what Lovino was doing.
Just what did he want from Antonio!
After his little breakdown Antonio had done everything in his power to make things up to his lover, but he was breaking that all apart by what he was doing!
As his eyebrow twitched, Antonio stepped forwards, grabbing both of Lovino's wrists in a hard grasp, pinning them above the Italian's head "No me jodas Lovino, why don't you tell me what the fuck you want from me, you're giving me all these mixed messages, you shudder in disgust when I hold you, but here you are laying yourself out for me like some kind of.. kind of... Puto! Make up your mind and tell me what you want so I can fucking give it to you!"
The moment his wrists were grasped, the tomato fell from his hands, amber eyes wide in shock and a trickle of fear.
No, this was Antonio; it was okay because it was different from last time.
None the less, he couldn't restrain the shiver as he leaned heavily against the wall.
"Tell you what I want? Bastardo! That is all I have been doing! I forgive you, damn it! Stop fucking chickening out- you are not a man, coward!" Lovino growled back, his eyes narrowing as he struggled to move forward, grateful the other's face was near. "I want you, damn it, that is what I want," he whispered, his breath laced with wine falling against Antonio's as he brushed their lips briefly, whining.
Gods, Antonio hadn't even kissed him since that incident and it made him tremble.
With need or fear, Lovino couldn't tell.
Antonio blinked in confusion, his face softening, but the grip on Lovino's wrists not, if anything it tightened. Lovino couldn't mean what he thought the young Italian meant, could he? No, the Spaniard must have just been imagining it, yes, that must have been what was going on. Pulling his head back, just enough so that their lips were no longer close enough to touch, Antonio let out a soft sigh, his eyebrows furrowed together in thought.
"You want me, yet you call me a coward, you say I'm not a man and yet you're still acting like a human child. We're not like them Lovino, so stop trying to act like one, we're nations, if you have something you want me to know you tell me out right, these hints, the swears, the drinking... it all has to stop. How can I take you seriously when you're breath stinks of wine?" Pulling back from Lovino, Antonio's gaze was cold before he turned on his heels and left the kitchen, calling back over his shoulder.
"Talk to me when you're sober"
Amber eyes widened as he was left alone, his hands lowering back down to his sides slowly, staring after the Spaniard. He had been left alone again. Antonio hadn't even kissed him, or whispered anything dirty in his ear. Lovino was starting to get mad now.
In a move he would probably regret later, the Italian bent down and gripped the tomato that had fallen from his hands earlier, snarling as he pegged the food full force at his lover's back, watching it splatter on his shirt. It was a waste of the tomato, and it killed him to have done that, but fuck was he pissed off.
"Fuck you bastard! I'm perfectly sober, otherwise I would not have been able to hit you from this distance!" he shouted. By the time Antonio figured out that he had just essentially wasted a tomato due to his anger, Lovino will have picked a new strategy, surely. It had really been an impulsive thing to do. "Now you have a man here who has fucking forgiven you, and iwants you/i. And damn it, asshole, I lo—" The Italian froze mid sentence, shocked to find himself trembling.
What was going on?
Why was his body shaking.
It was almost the same as ithat/i night, the way his body had instinctively trembled…
Had he… done something wrong?
