A/N: worthwhile content in the author's note.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.
Kicking The Bucket List
twenty-one
"i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing."
— E.E. Cummings
Before long, it was now mid-October. Autumn had come and brought about a whirlwind of vibrant shades of red, yellow, and orange to Evergreen Hollows University, save for the evergreen trees in the forest that bordered the campus, which had given the latter its namesake.
The temperature had grown considerably cooler, and with colder weather, it automatically meant that Antonio was starting to pack on the layers. And by 'layers', he meant cardigans and sweaters galore, and not layers of fat. He never really did handle the cold all that well. During his first year here, as soon as he was able to when winter break came around, he wasted absolutely no time in taking the red-eye flight back to his home in perpetually sunny, sunny California, where the snow could not get to him. And for that, he was thankful.
Weather aside, a lot had changed in the short period of time in which he had (finally, finally) befriended Lovi.
To say that the two were practically joined at the hip would be an understatement.
…No, actually, it's such a vast overstatement, it kinda made Antonio want to curl up and wither inside. But hey! At least they were on way better terms now! One would even consider them to be good friends, even!
That is, albeit the fact that the two rarely got to interact outside of the classes they shared.
Antonio had grown to cherish the times he had Lovi all to himself (though only to an extent). It seemed as if they only got to spend time together after class if ever: a) Allistor was busy, b) Bella was busy, and c) if Lovino didn't have anything important to do or cram for during lunchtime. One couldn't do without the other, apparently, and it was a rarity that Bella was ever too caught up in whatever she had going on to spend time with Lovi, or so the latter says.
Frankly, Antonio couldn't really find it in himself to give a damn about whatever Allistor or Bella, or any of Lovino's other friends were up to, just as long as he could spend time with Lovi himself. To him, being with Lovino was all that mattered.
"I'm dying," Antonio says to his friends during lunch, a faisandé grin of sorts plastered onto his face as Lovino walked away from the bench the two were previously sitting at, before the Italian went to meet with his own group of friends. "It doesn't look like it, but I am dying."
Francis expels a sigh for the nth time and massaged his temples as Gilbert shook his head and tutted in disapproval.
"You got yourself into this," Gilbert lightly scolds and in that instant, Antonio regrets ever bringing Lovino up. He's made that mistake many times before, and now he's made it again. "I told you that all he's ever going to do is make your life a living hell. And bring you suffering. And pain. Not to mention, torture."
"But it's not a living hell," Antonio argues weakly; sheepishly. A-And it isn't! Really! Well— Lovino isn't directly making his life a 'living hell' per se, no, but seeing him with Allistor around campus all the time— ah, it comes pretty damn close! Honestly, it was a struggle trying to keep in his emotions under control, envy being the biggest one amongst them.
Somehow, Lovino could always draw the extremes out of him from a spectrum of emotions, albeit some ('some' being used very lightly) negative ones thrown into the mix as well. Perhaps love really did bring out the best and worst in a person. Or maybe, perhaps, it was only the best, whilst the rest was just in the nature of human beings. But now is not the time to dwell on that because—
Because every single time he saw Lovi and Allistor walking hand-in-hand, talking, laughing— and even worse, kissing— he started seeing red. He would start seething, and it was really, really hard trying to rein his emotions in (again).
Antonio never really did handle jealousy all that well, but envy… Envy was much, much worse. He had no right to feel this way and he knew that— the Italian had a boyfriend after all! But it was just really hard.
Sometimes, Antonio couldn't deal with the fact that there was this darker side to himself, one that's been buried in deeper than any relapse he's ever had, and it's been rearing its ugly head more and more often. He was ashamed of it, God, and he was scared to death of how Lovi would react if he ever saw Antonio just being like this. He was not proud of it, no.
It didn't help that there were all these boundaries between them. That one line Antonio could never cross. Well, as long as Lovi and Allistor were together, that is. But he had this nagging doubt that the two would ever break up. Gil and Franny could see it too, which was why they were just so adamant Antonio move on and get over Lovino as soon as possible, and that since there were more fish in the sea, he shouldn't have any problems moving on to someone else. Someone 'better' for him.
And… normally, he wouldn't have. Have problems moving on, that is. He's done it before. Lots of times. Rejection never kept him from getting back up and shrugging the dirt off his shoulders. But this time?
This time, he wasn't so sure if he could just move on.
This time, it wasn't so easy anymore.
This time, he didn't give a damn about the rest of the proverbial fish in the sea. Antonio wanted him. Lovino. And only him. Why couldn't they see that?
Hell, just thinking about cutting Lovino out of his life (and vice-versa) hurt. It hurt a lot, just the thought of it! He daren't even fathom how much pain and regret he'd feel if he actually went out and did it.
He would never, never just push Lovino away like that.
Lovi probably wouldn't care, since he had Allistor and his own friends already.
But Antonio certainly would care. Without a doubt, it'd tear him apart from inside out if he and Lovi went back to the senseless bickering— or worse— no bickering at all. It'd leave nothing but a strained and awkward silence between them, having been reduced to nothing but strangers. Again.
Just like before.
"Why do you hang out with that guy?" Bella asks of Lovino, brows furrowed and a look of disdain not at all complementing her pretty face. 'That Guy', of course, was none other than Antonio Fernández-Carriedo.
Lovino and Antonio's peculiar friendship had confused some, but nonplussed Bella most of all. It— it just didn't click somehow.
"I don't know," Lovino says honestly. He really doesn't. "He's just… there all the time."
"That's creepy."
Just as Lovino is about to concur, Liz pipes up. "I hear he's kind of a slut."
And then the weirdest thing happened. Bella and Lovino immediately turned to her in surprise, and possibly even mild disturbance. Even Feliks and Michelle have stopped fawning over photos of Brock O'Hurn just to look at Liz.
Then Elizabeta sighs and shrugs her shoulders like it wasn't even a big deal. Though it kind of totally was. "Roderich, this guy I've been talking to, he's bi. He and Antonio used to date each other before."
"Whoa, hold up," Lovino cuts in. He gawks at Eliza for a good two seconds before he gesticulates vaguely. "So you're, like, seeing this Roderich guy?"
Elizabeta looks at him weirdly, like he's suddenly sprouted two heads. "Uh… Yeah?"
"Romantically," he emphasises.
The Hungarian furrows her brows together before she snorts. "Not sure if there's like a platonic version of 'seeing' another person, but yeah. We've been going out on dates and all—"
"What?!" Michelle exclaims, all eyes on her. "When did you ever think about telling us? AKA, your friends?"
"Jeez, I didn't think it'd be such a big deal!" Liz shrugs, a sheepish expression on her face. "Plus I wanted to wait until we were official before I said anything."
"No way!"
Immediately, Bella, Michelle and Feliks flock to her, prodding insistently for details.
But Lovino?
Tch, the poor kid's in shock. Guess that tends to happen when your perception of a person is suddenly shattered.
"So… you're not gay?" The Italian speaks up.
Elizabeta snorts, a funny smile on her face. "No..? Why would I be gay?"
"Like, why wouldn't you be gay? You breathe gay."
As Liz begins to laugh, Bella lightly places a hand on Lovino's shoulder, expression and tone motherly. "Lovi, just because someone's really, really, really into homosexual relationships and sex, doesn't mean that they are gay themselves!"
"Exactly." Liz concludes—
"Excuse me, but I am here," Feliks interjects, gently planting a neatly manicured hand on his chest. "I'm, like, the gayest gay that's ever gayed."
Then he pauses for a moment.
"Or, rather, one of the gayest gays that's ever gayed. I mean, at least give me that!"
Lovino rolls his eyes, "There's no doubt about that."
And so the squad began to discuss this Roderich person, and who he was. Roderich Edelstein's an Austrian-born music prodigy, apparently, but he migrated to the USA with his illustrious family to take up music in Evergreen Hollows University, where he is one of the institution's most talented and promising students. He could've gone to Julliard easy, but he opted to become a protégé of world-class pianist, Noël Strauss, instead, who taught as a hobby at EHU.
Eliza began to elaborate on how they'd met entirely through happenstance. Roderich had been collaborating with the school's orchestra for the music to be used in one of the upcoming plays; the very same one Allistor is directing.
She was tasked to get a copy of the file from Roderich, blank CD and extra flash drive in hand, and the two instantly hit it off. She accompanied her story with showing them screenshots and Facebook conversations on her phone, good morning and good night texts and all. It was sweet. So sickly sweet!
No longer was she the volatile, pan-wielding, perverted homophile everyone had come to know (and not love); she became m-more… gentle and w-womanly around Roderich, like he'd brought out this hidden side that no one's ever seen before out of Elizabeta. Which he did.
It was fucking terrifying.
Then as the two got to know each other more, it turns out that Roderich had dated Antonio before. It all started when they saw the Spaniard jovially walking towards the Performing Arts Department (to bring Lovino his lunch, most likely). The disgruntled Austrian instantly burst out into a tirade, a lengthy jeremiad of how he absolutely hated/abhorred/loathed Antonio and what he'd done to him.
The squad grew silent for a moment, letting this new nugget of information sink in. Lovino's the first one to break the silence, not giving that much of a fuck anyway.
"So why'd they break up?" He ponders out loud, sneaking a small glance at the Spaniard hanging out with his asshole bastard piece of shit friends from across the courtyard. And he fails— terribly, at that— since when he looks, he catches Antonio already looking at him, that bastard. He's grinning and waving, and it pisses Lovino off that his cheeks are reddening with the embarrassment of being caught, albeit the fact that Antonio had been ogling at him (for God knows how long?) as well. Instead, Lovino scowls and turns away.
"Apparently, Antonio fell in love with someone else, so he broke up with him."
"Well that sucks."
Liz's expression suddenly darkens tenfold, and everyone inconspicuously inches away from her a bit. But with reason to! This expression was not to be taken lightly. This was Elizabeta Héderváry truly and wholly pissed off. Huffing angrily, she crossed her arms over her chest and began her rant.
"What's worse is that Antonio was already dating the other guy before he officially broke it off with Roderich! So, technically, he fucking cheated on him. And he didn't care for Roddy, like, at all. Just because he finally got to be with his new boyfriend. He's such an asshole!" Elizabeta's tone was vicious, dripping with absolutely naught but pure rancour on the behalf of her newfound beau. Lovino could practically feel the hate radiating off of her person, it was that bad. "And you know what?"
She pauses, raising an index finger up as she laughed, and laughed very bitterly. "Apparently, he didn't even last several weeks with his new boyfriend! Wow! He broke it off with whom he broke up with Roderich for, and got with someone else instead. He is such a man slut. I don't understand how you could possibly ever tolerate him, Lovino."
"What a dick," Lovino mutters under his breath, turning to glare at the Spaniard once more. He felt a spike of anger surge within him, blood suddenly beginning to boil underneath his skin, as he recalled Antonio's multiple, incessant attempts to woo Feliciano. That bastard! That fucking bastard! All that motherfucker would've done is break Feliciano's heart— well, if Lovino hadn't stepped in, that is. Grazie a Dio for the Virginity Guardian Armour, it's prevailed once again. Forever shielding his little brother from fuckboys galore.
Fucking crisis averted.
Then Lovino gets this— this sudden urge to throttle Antonio. Fists clenched, he grits his teeth and tries to calm himself. Keyword: try. The past is in the past, sure, but with how fucking angry he was, socking Antonio in the face for his past transgressions seemed justifiable in his head. It probably was. Probably.
"I know right?!" Liz exclaims, obviously getting worked up over the topic of discussion. Hell, everyone was too. They were all very anti-Antonio at the moment. "Ugh, I fucking hate him. I don't like him at all. And not just because he dated Roddy, but because he was such an inconsiderate asshole. And now look at him."
She openly gestures to the Spaniard, gracefully (and sarcastically) flourishing an arm out before her. Antonio is still smiling at Lovino, but he doesn't seem to notice the glares everyone in Lovino's group of friends is sending him. Callous bastard.
"He is smiling like he doesn't care, because he doesn't. He literally does not care about anybody but himself, and maybe his shitty friends! No wonder he and Gilbert are so close. Really, fuck them—"
"C'mon, Liz, chill," Bella cuts in, patting the brunette's back in order to somehow placate her, never mind the fact that she, too, is eyeing Antonio with distaste. Then she turns to give Lovino a glance as if to say, I told you so.
The blond was so certain Antonio was bad news from the start— and as it turns out, he really was! She was right! Though, still, she felt bad for whomever Antonio had his eyes on at the moment. At least it wasn't Feliciano anymore!
"Oh, yeah," Lovino speaks up, eyes trained on his phone. He had broken the temporary silence that had fallen over them, after a very heated discussion regarding fuckboys and backstabbing ex-best friends.
The expression on his face was undeniable. Cheeks lightly flushed and a goofy grin threatening to take over his face, Bella instantly knew, without a doubt, that Lovi was talking to Allistor. So cute. Really! Allistor and Lovino were definitely #relationshipgoals.
"I'm going to have lunch with Allistor. Guess I'll see you guys later." The Italian says slowly, distractedly, the tips of his thumbs flying across the screen of his phone as he typed in a response.
The Belgian rolled her eyes playfully. "Again?"
"Yes, again," Lovino confirmed, the smirk on his face betraying his sardonic tone.
And sure enough, within mere moments, Allistor comes into view. He's briskly walking towards them from the general direction of the Performing Arts Department.
They don't see Antonio glowering at the back of Allistor's head, his friends trying to capture his attention once more.
Lovino wastes no time and meets the Scotsman halfway with a chaste kiss, but Allistor cups the Italian's reddening cheeks as he pulls away, then deepens it into a quick snog.
Antonio flinches and stares at his hands.
"Hey, Lov," Allistor breathes out, beaming at him. He reaches down and takes Lovino's hand in his own, lips ghosting over the Italian's knuckles and smiling at him. "How was yer day? Ah missed yeh lots."
"It was okay, I guess," Lovino murmurs, quick to pull his hand away as his face reddened. Instead he laces their fingers together as they head for the campus gates. "I've got a shit ton of projects to do though, so I'm really fucking stressed right now." He pauses to think of everything he needs to get done and he sighs. "What do you wanna have for lunch?"
"Ah'll be honest with yeh, Lov. Ah'm good with anything, A'm jus' thankful Ah got time ta 'ave lunch with yeh in th' first place."
Right. About that. Honestly, Lovino and Allistor haven't been able to spend as much time together lately, especially with Lovino's work piling one on top of the other, and Allistor focussing on his final production as a student in EHU. As for the freshmen helping out at the Performing Arts Department, a shift in their schedule saw them helping out on the weekends instead.
Many students bemoaned the sudden change in routine, but Lovino never took it for granted.
In the end, they settled for a quick lunch at Starbucks since Allistor was a bit pressed on time, even on his break. The couple took their usual seat by the windows, near the door, the brown leather couches familiar to them.
As usual, Allistor ordered black coffee, grande and with exactly five sugars and four creamers, whilst Lovino got a venti caramel macchiato. They had settled themselves in their seats, Lovino discreetly watching Allistor stir his coffee until the sugar had dissolved. Briefly he wondered what he did to deserve to be with such a k-kind and caring person.
Honestly, he couldn't see himself with anybody else. He didn't want to either.
He knew it hadn't been that long since they got together, but already Allistor meant so much to him. It was like he knew, without a doubt, in his heart, that Allistor would be the only one for him.
"Ti amo," Lovino says suddenly, prompting the redhead to stop stirring his coffee and stare at him. His lovely Italian boyfriend.
Allistor smiles warmly, setting the wooden stirrer down on a serviette as he leant in a little closer. "Ah love yeh too, Lov—"
A shrill tune cuts through the moment like a knife. The Scot's eyebrows are raised as he stares at his phone ringing, right by Lovino's, which they had set to the side of the table. Lovino stares at it too, but before he can read the caller ID (it was upside down after all), Allistor's snatched it off the table and he looks sheepish this time.
"Excuse me, luv, Ah'll just take this," he says, pecking Lovino's forehead before exiting Starbucks.
Lovino stares at him through the window, brows furrowed slightly. He wonders who it is, and if everything's alright. It's nearing ten minutes by the time Allistor's done with his call, and he re-enters the café with apologies spilling from his lips.
"Who was that?" Lovino asks, not without a tinge of irritation. He's already finished more than half of his chicken wrap while waiting for him.
"Oh. It was an international call. A schoolmate of mine. We only catch up every so often. Sorry."
Guilt seizes Lovino's gut, and he stares down at his hands. "Oh."
It's quiet, painfully quiet, between them for a few moments before Lovino speaks up again. "M-Maybe— Maybe you could show your friend the wonders of Skype!"
Allistor chuckles and they begin to joke around.
Everything felt right in the world once again.
Lovino really should've seen it coming.
And he had, really; he'd seen it coming from a mile away. Yet with all the things going on in his life, it'd managed to escape his thoughts up until vibrant neon flyers started popping up everywhere, covering every possible and vertically-upright surface.
It was inevitable; participation, imminent.
Ah, yes. It was roughly two weeks before the end of October.
Soon enough, it'd be Halloween.
Knowing EHU had a knack for hosting events— a world-class school would need world-class parties, after all— it was of no surprise to the Italian that the institution would have an event of sorts to accompany the occasion.
Snatching a hot pink flyer right off of a random locker, he skimmed through the leaflet and caught sight of beautiful, beautifulwords like 'open bar', 'sponsored by Smirnoff', and 'Official Venue Partner: The Black Box', and in that instant, he knew it'd be a really good night.
Ding!
Lovino blinks once, twice. Then he fumbles around for his phone in the back pocket of his jeans. It's a text from Bella.
Bella: Have you heard about the Halloween party yet?
Lovino's eyebrows immediately shot up in surprise. Her timing was… pretty fucking on point! In fact, it had briefly crossed his mind that there was a possibility that maybe, somehow, Bella was spying on him from a distance.
…Nah. No way. She would totally rather ask him in person. Really, whenever she ran into him in campus while they were walking to different classes, even if she were across the courtyard, she'd make her way over to him just to say hi.
He wouldn't put spying past Elizabeta though.
…Let's just say it wasn't the first time he's caught her spying on him and Allistor like some sort of psychotic stalker.
Ding!
Bella: Do you have a costume already? :D
The Italian snorted. Of course Bella would automatically assume he'd be going.
Well— not that she'd be entirely wrong. That is, as of now anyways. He's not the anti-social hermit he used to be. Even though he is still somewhat… averseto strangers. Or people in general.
It was pretty damn ironic how the people around him were the happiest and most outgoing people he knew, Allistor included. The Scotsman had a lot of friends around EHU. Whenever they would walk together in campus, Allistor would always see a friend or an acquaintance of his lingering about in the hallways.
He shrugs the thought away and heaves a laboured sigh as he texts Bella a concise 'no'. Being sociable took a lot out of him, to be honest. Sometimes, he just wanted to distance himself from everyone and stay quiet for a while. Take the time to either stew in his own thoughts or not think at all.
It was as if he missed the loneliness he used to feel.
But he didn't, really; at least, he didn't think so. No one would ever want to feel that way, right? It was weird though— for the thoughts that once ran rampant through his mind to gradually ebb away the more he opened himself up to others. Allistor and Bella, especially.
Maybe, perhaps, it was because he was so unused to these new feelings and emotions, that to not constantly feel alone or not good enough for anyone anymore felt more out of place than anything.
He briefly wondered if he could get used to feeling this way.
Antonio felt terrible. He couldn't focus, he couldn't think straight, he couldn't function— he really couldn't fathom why he was feeling something akin dread bubbling up the pit of his stomach. There were these terrible pangs in his chest and he felt his stomach lurch.
It took everything in him just to get to his next— and thankfully, last— class. For the nth time since midday, he took his phone out and skimmed the notifications, not a single one coming from the one person he wanted to talk to.
See, Lovino and Antonio began texting each other a few days ago. The Spaniard had bugged Lovi over and over for his number, until finally, the older Vargas relented. Since Lovino was always on his phone, he always replied. Always.
But this time, Lovino's been ignoring him for some reason. The text Antonio sent him had been marked as read since noon, when the two of them were sitting on opposite sides of the courtyard. What did he do? What did he do wrong? Did he upset Lovino somehow?
Seeing Lovi and Allistor together hadn't helped his mood any either (it never did). Even if they were hanging out together, surely Lovino would have replied by now, right?
He was sorely tempted to send another text, but decided against it. He'd probably annoy Lovino even more, and that was the last thing he wanted.
Maybe he was just busy.
Yes, that's it. Lovino was probably busy with something important right now—
Thump-thump.
Antonio's heart skips a beat as he finds Lovino a few feet in front of him. There's a flyer for the annual Halloween party in his hand, and he's engrossed with his phone.
So maybe he wasn't busy after all.
He licks his lips and swallows, his throat suddenly dry. Before he realises it, he's right in front of Lovino.
"H-Hey, Lovi," Antonio rasps out, sincerely hoping Lovino didn't catch the sliver of nervousness in his tone.
He didn't.
"Hm?" Lovino hums distractedly, looking up at whomever was speaking to him. He stares at him evenly, and that's what unnerves Antonio, somewhat. Nonetheless, it takes a conscious effort for him not to get too distracted by Lovi's eyes. "Oh. Hey."
Antonio manages a small smile and motions to the flyer in Lovino's other hand, "You going to the Halloween party? It'll be fun!"
Lovino's gaze languidly falls to the paper in his hand and he shrugs. A smirk crosses his lips. "Who knows? Parties aren't usually my thing, but my friends will probably make me go with them if I try to refuse."
"Maybe we can hang out then!" Antonio chirps, feigning a cheerful tone. That doesn't mean he isn't happy, no. But it is mainly relief that floods him when he finds that Lovino doesn't seem to be angry or upset with him. Everything is alright.
"Yeah," Lovino's eyes snap back up to meet his again, and he falls a little bit harder. "Maybe."
Ding!
He glances down at his phone before looking up at Antonio again. "Look, I gotta go. See you around." He raises a hand up to Antonio's shoulder, hovering an inch away from his skin for a moment or two before awkwardly patting it.
"I'll text you later," Antonio calls out, beaming at the Italian already making his way down the hall.
Lovino merely throws a hand up in response.
"Does this outfit make me look fat?"
Lovino stops scrolling through Instagram for a moment before looking up at Bella. They're at this weirdly high-end (and somewhat adult) costume shop a few towns away, and she's been trying on outfit after outfit ever since they got here around an hour ago.
She's tried the staple Wonder Woman outfit, a French maid outfit, a Japanese maid outfit (ft. furry cat ears), and a series of other one-piece spandex get-ups. And now she had a Red Riding Hood costume on.
Her hood was nearly floor-length, but the off-white peasant top she was wearing revealed more than an ample amount of cleavage, accentuated by a brown leatherette bustier hugging her torso. It looked like a fancy waist trainer more than anything, really. Her black high waist skirt fell just below her thighs, and the tan, lace-up boots she was wearing suited her really well.
She looked gorgeous and she knew it. Lovino knew it too. He just had a hunch that she wanted him to say it out loud.
"Nah, it doesn't," he says. "You look great, as usual. Just like the last three billion outfits you tried on."
"So you're definitely sure I don't look fat?" She asks once more, admiring her reflection in the mirror. Dio, Bella could be hella vain when she wanted to. Then again, Lovino had his moments as well.
"I am definitely sure you don't look fat," he confirms adamantly, rolling his eyes. "Now just pick something so we can pay for it and go! I'm hungry, dammit!"
She gives him an odd look, turning to face him. "Aren't you going to pick something too?"
Lovino's brows furrow. "What makes you think I'm actually going?"
She stomps her foot on the ground and pouts at him. "Lovi~"
A groan escaped his lips. "What, dammit?"
The blonde crosses her arms over her chest and looks at him disapprovingly. "Do we really have to go through this again? You are going to that party with us, mister, and you are going to pick a costume right now, so we can go grab some lunch!"
Lovino gave her a look. "I left my credit card at home— oof!"
Bella flops right on top of Lovino's lap, a playful smile on her lips as she ignored the glare Lovi sent her. "I'm paying. You can treat me to lunch. And mani/pedis the day of the party~!"
"Oh my God," the Italian groans out, rubbing his face as he leant back on the plush black couch facing the mirrors. "It's like I'm your sugar daddy 2.0, only without the added benefits. You aren't going to get off of my back unless I do this, aren't you?"
"Yep! And I can stay here all day. I had waffles before you picked me up this morning."
He glares at her before he grumbles numerous expletives under his breath, getting up from the couch to approach the nearest rack for men. He skims past all the different types of costumes, expressionless. Just because Bella was paying for his costume didn't mean he had to enjoy it, dammit. Literally all he wanted to do was eat, go home and take a siesta, and maybe swing by campus so he could see his boyfriend.
Thanks to this little discrepancy, siesta time would be cut down to damn near nothing. Great.
Lovino growls in irritation once more as he pulls out several satin hangers and heads for the dressing room. And with every fucking outfit he put on, the more his temper flared. Everything was fucking huge on him, dammit— didn't they have clothes in a smaller size? Is he that fucking tiny?!
No, he isn't— so why won't jack shit fit on him, dammit?!
He scowled at his reflection in the mirror, the cabin boy outfit on him looking as baggy as ever— or was it supposed to be baggy? Maybe the pirate crew starved him, those fucking pieces of for the first time, he kinda understood why Feliciano wanted him to eat more. Not so he could fit into various Halloween costumes, per se, but maybe to not look like a gust of wind could blow him over.
The knight armour didn't do him any favours, either. Shit was too huge, he could barely see over the helmet, and additionally, shit was heavy as fuck. Like hell he was going to lug this shit around a party. Fuck no!
Then there was the Slenderman costume. He was… too s-short for that, what the hell?! God, how tall does a person need to be to wear a fucking costume? And most importantly— how was he going to eat? And drink? This costume basically says, fuck you. Fuck your hunger and your thirst. Fuck that open bar you've been looking forward to. Stay sober, children.
Lovino worked his way out of the Slenderman costume, stumbling in the general direction of the dressing room again. Bella got off the couch and she started looking around for something Lovi could wear.
"Since I can't find anything to wear," Lovino began, taking a moment to glance at his reflection. He trails a hand down the barely visible muscles on his stomach. Huh. He was on the skinny side a bit, yeah… Maybe he could hit the gym sometime? Build up on some muscle? He snorts. No way in hell. He's too lazy for that. "Why don't we go ahead and have lunch?"
"Nope!" Bella replies, voice startling louder than he expected it to be. He flinches and turns to see the blonde holding up a hanger. "Try it! This should be about your size."
Lovino looks at the admittedly very flimsy piece of white cloth and frowns. "The fuck is that? A rag?"
The Italian takes the hanger from her grasp and stares at it for one second, two seconds…
He thrusts the hanger back into her arms. "No."
"But Lovi!" Bella whines—
"I said no! Why?! Why would you want me to wear that?!"
"But Lovi, it's a Roman costume!"
"The fuck kinda Roman costume—for men, mind you— ends here?!" He screeches back, bending down slightly to motion to somewhere around two inches or so above his knees with his hands. "Dammit, Bella, I maybe gay, but I'm still a man!"
"It's cute though! And if you don't get a costume now, when will you get the time to? This may very well be the only costume in this place that is Lovi-size friendly!"
Lovino grunts. "That's because this costume shop sucks ass. I'll just look for something on Amazon later, so can we just eat already?"
"No. You have to try it first. You never know, you might like it!"
The Vargas gives her a deadpan, if a bit weary, expression. "I 'have' to try it."
"Yes," Bella affirms, smiling at him. "You have to."
He stares at her for several seconds before taking the hanger back and pushing her out of the tiny cubicle. "Get out."
As Bella's footsteps faded out of hearing range, Lovino inspected the costume at arm's length. It was like finely woven gossamer between his fingers. In a small bag attached to it were various gold arm cuffs, and a gold belt. Sighing, he shrugged off his jeans and put on the Roman costume instead.
As much as he hated to admit it, Bella was actually right. It did fit him. Perfectly. Which was somewhat unbelievable, given the shitty luck he had trying to find something that actually fit him a while ago. And… it didn't look that bad!
He pulled at the hem, trying to see how far down it could go without making him look awkward. His boxers were too long for it, but he could always wear boxer briefs with it. Swallowing whatever left he had of his pride, he begrudgingly made his way to where Bella was waiting, trying to make sure he didn't seem like he liked it too much (read: at all).
"It's okay, I guess," he mutters, glancing down at his feet as he tried his best to ignore the flustered burning of his cheeks.
To his surprise, Bella didn't immediately shower him with compliments. Instead, she gave him a glance-over and a sincere smile. "It looks great!" She grabbed something shiny off of the end table beside the couch and sauntered over to him. "I found some accessories to go with it too!"
She clasped a gold bejewelled choker around his neck and adjusted it carefully. Then she got a wreath made out of gold laurel leaves and set it down on his head.
"What do I look like?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at her.
"You look fresh outta the Roman Empire," She chirps, turning him to face the mirror.
He hums, examining himself from other angles. "Hmm. True."
"Do you like it?"
He stays silent for several moments, just to bait and revel in Bella's growing anticipation. "It's okay, I guess," he says finally, and he tries not to scoff at the ebullience in her expression.
"See? I told you so! Okay, so now we have to find you some sandals…"
The two go about the store and pick out some sandals for Lovino to wear with his outfit. After what seems like an eternity, they finally, finally pay for their costumes and they have lunch at a bijou restaurant not many knew about. It was one of the hidden finds Lovino had discovered after nights of aimless driving around at night when he was still in high school.
The restaurant, French, was relatively near the house he and Feliciano used to live in before they moved to their new apartment near EHU. But even then, their move would be temporary. The apartment's just for rent, and when the twins both graduate, they'd most likely be moving back to their old house if ever they don't have a job right away. And knowing his course, Lovino knows he won't have a job right off the bat. Feliciano's already made plans to pursue a master's in art in a school in Italy, or maybe look for an apprenticeship. He's talked it over with Nonno already via Skype.
Let's just say Lovino didn't really like thinking about the future.
Okay, so maybe Lovino should've thought about what he was going to wear on Halloween instead of buying something right on the spot. Maybe he could have said no to Bella when she insisted he get the Roman costume.
Maybe he really should've scoured online for a costume instead.
Then again, maybe Lovino should have also considered these options earlier instead of on the night of the party.
If he did, maybe he wouldn't have been shivering in the cold of the night, pulling the flimsy piece of shit over his legs lest his gonads turn into frozen prunes. Oh, God. Boxer briefs were definitely not enough to keep his family jewels warm.
He briefly glanced over his shoulder, contemplating on grabbing a hoodie from upstairs for the umpteenth time. But what if— what if Bella's car rolled in just as he went up? The particular train of thought was the very same one that kept him from going up for the past half hour either. He felt pretty silly standing alone like this, dressed in a slutty costume and all. Never mind it was nearly nine-thirty PM and no one was around. Probably because they were all at The Black Box. Majority of the people who lived here were students in EHU after all.
Fucking dammit, what the hell was taking her so long?!
That's it. He was getting a hoodie now.
Just as he turned to go back to the penthouse, the roar of an engine quickly approached his building and sure enough, he heard Bella's voice going, "Oh my Goooood—"
Lovino stops dead in his tracks for a second, whipping his head around to glare at Bella, who was in the passenger seat of Elizabeta's SUV. The window was rolled down, so he could hear Bella's voice cutting through the crisp, peaceful silence with almost painful clarity, "I am so sorry, Lovi! You look great!"
Elizabeta glanced over at him, nodding appreciatively at Lovino's getup. "That's hot. Allistor will literally rip that right off you when he sees that—"
"Shut up, Liz!" Lovino growled out, getting in the back of her car and slamming the door shut. "What the hell took you so long? I was freezing my nuts off!"
"Maybe Allistor can warm them up for you—"
Lovino punches the back of Elizabeta's headrest, eliciting an angry 'hey!'. Bella glances back at him and winces sheepishly. "Sorry! I lost track of time while getting ready. Here."
He blinks and glances down at her outstretched hand before he takes the flask out of her grasp and twists the cap off. He sniffs at the contents and wrinkles his nose at how strong the smell is. Nonetheless, he takes a swig of the liquor, Jack Daniels burning a trail down his throat before settling in the pit of his stomach. Blinking away the half-formed tears in his eyes, within moments, the burning subsides and he starts to feel better.
"She's right though," Liz speaks up after a beat. "She even contoured her boobs."
"…That's just… Wow. The answer to a question I never asked."
"They look great now, though!" Bella retorts, staring at her bosom under the light of the passing lampposts. "They're, like, really defined now."
Lovino coughs into his hand before he thumps the back of Elizabeta's seat again. "What's your costume though?"
"Oh," Liz hums, patting the back of her starchy, short blond wig. "I'm going as Julia Roberts in the movie Pretty Woman. Roddy's going as Richard Gere."
"So basically you're going as a hooker."
There was a moment of silence before Bella burst out laughing and Elizabeta blindly tries to hit Lovino with her fist. "It's true though!" Lovino argues in between bouts of laughter, pushing her hand back.
It's about half-past ten when Lovino, Bella and Elizabeta finally arrive at The Black Box. Antonio only knows this because he asked Lovino— the one person who he truly looked forward to seeing tonight. Immediately, Antonio downs the rest of his second mojito, and with a somewhat encouraging pat on the back from Francis (Gilbert was still out on the dance floor with… with Mike? Max? Mark?), he slides off the barstool he's sitting on for the past thirty minutes and wanders towards the entrance of the venue.
Sure enough, he sees Lovino there, and his heart skips a beat.
Leave it to the Italian to look so handsome; so breathtaking. Lovi was wearing a Roman costume, one with elaborate folds and fringes, which hung loosely over his lithe body, and ended a few inches above his knees. Antonio gulped, his mouth suddenly dry.
He must've been staring too long, too quietly, because Lovino then scoffs, hints of a smirk tracing his lips. "What's up with you? Is it because you think I look so cool, huh, you bastard?"
It takes a second for Antonio to blink out of his reverie, laughing (albeit a bit sheepishly) and waving his hands before him. "Ahaha~ You must really fond of Ancient Rome!"
Lovino scoffs, hands on his hips. "Nope. It has nothing to do with some secret, innate fondness I may have for Ancient Rome." And then he smirks, and Antonio internally swoons at the sight, "It's just that the only thing that fits my beautiful, supple body is this Roman costume, can't you see?"
Oh. Oh, yes.
Antonio could definitely see that.
He beams as he stole another lingering glance at Lovi's costume (and figure). Such a beautiful and supple body indeed.
Suddenly, Lovi lightly pushes Antonio's shoulder back, bringing the Spaniard out of yet another Lovi-induced Trance™. "Oi, why aren't you saying anything? Stop smiling like that, you fuckin' bastard!"
And Antonio just laughs, completely enamoured with the Italian standing before him. "Ah, sorry, Lovi— you're just so cute!"
Lovi's face flushes red even under the dim lights, and he half-heartedly punches Antonio's arm. Half-heartedly, because Antonio knows how strong Lovi's actual punches can be. From personal experience.
The Italian then steps back, eyes glazing over Antonio's form. "You're a pirate?"
"Yep! I even have a sword, see?" Antonio pulls the fake sword out of its holster, and Lovino squints at it.
"They let you pass security with that?"
"It's made out of plastic, it's perfectly safe!" Antonio argues, running his thumb over the blunt edge of the toy.
"Not if I stab you in the eye with it," Lovino murmurs thoughtfully.
Antonio pauses and gapes at Lovino, who laughs at his own… joke? Ah, no offence, really, but what was he laughing at again?
"Whatever, dammit, let's just get a drink."
And to Antonio's surprise, Lovino reaches out and grabs him by the wrist before leading him to one of the bars nearby. His heart's nearly beating out of his chest, and his face is so red, if it weren't for the strobe lights darting around them, it'd be dead obvious he was blushing.
"You've been here before?" He shouts over the music, hoping Lovi wouldn't let go.
Most of the partygoers are busy having the time of their lives, but several random people they pass do notice them, and curiously eye the way Lovino is dragging him somewhere.
"'Course I have, dammit. I was here for the grand opening with Allistor, though I haven't been back here since."
"Oh." Of course. Of course he'd have been here with Allistor. They are together after all.
Was Antonio feeling bitter?
Ah. Yes.
But only little bit.
Really.
As Lovino orders a zombie for himself, Antonio opts to get a strawberry daiquiri.
"To Halloween," Antonio says as they briefly clink their glasses together.
"To open bar," Lovino concurs.
They linger by the bar for a while, just talking, just catching up on whatever Antonio felt needed to be caught up, and making comments on other peoples' costumes as they passed by.
Either Antonio managed to make his daiquiri last longer, or Lovi was a fast drinker. It didn't take long for the Italian to finish drinking his zombie— "It's only a warm-up for me," he says— and get a head start on stronger drinks, like gin and tonic, and whiskey on the rocks.
Antonio can't understand it.
He knows Lovi drinks enough to pass out in random bushes, but he never would've thought that Lovi would prefer hard liquor to actual good tasting drinks, like margaritas and cocktails! At least Jack cola.
"You really like drinking that?" Antonio asks. "It's so bitter!"
Lovino nods once before grabbing a shot of vodka lined with salt and downing it in one go. His eyes are squeezed shut, and there are tears threatening to fall. Slamming the cup down, he takes a slice of lime and quickly bites into it. Once he's done, he turns to Antonio. "Trust me, no alcohol is as bitter as my soul."
And then he laughs, slapping his own knee.
Dios, Antonio could never get enough of Lovino's intoxicating laugh. Unconsciously, he leans in, eyes beseeching and searching the Italian's. Admittedly, it would have worked better if Lovi wasn't too busy laughing at what he said.
And if he were single.
Lovino suddenly grows quiet, fingers darting across the screen of his phone. He sends one text. Two texts. Out of the corner of Antonio's eye, he sees Allistor's name at the top of the screen with a sparkly heart emoji beside it.
Oh.
The Spaniard waits for Lovino to finish up texting and put his phone back in this small leather satchel of sorts Antonio's only noticed now, before he speaks up again. "So what do you want to do next?"
Lovino ponders on this for several moments, jogging his left knee, before he gets off the barstool he's sitting on and turns to Antonio, grinning mischievously. "Let's dance."
Emerald eyes widen in surprise as Antonio, for the nth time, gawks at the erratic Italian who was now pulling him towards the sea of people clad in costumes of all colours, shapes and sizes. The shock from that only lasts a moment up until he realises that, yes, their fingers are laced together. He hopes his palms don't sweat, even though he knows they're already damp. He tightens his grip on Lovino's hand a fraction as they fast approached the front of the dancefloor, where the DJ table was. His hand is soft, Antonio notes, and the spaces between his fingers fit his own. Even then, Lovino's hand was smaller than his— or maybe Antonio just had really big hands. Amidst winding their way through the crowd, Antonio realised that no one could really see that their fingers were laced together unless they stopped dancing to stare at their hands.
Then Lovino stops somewhere suddenly, and turns to face him. The lights are casting shadows on the Italian's face, and Antonio can't help but feel the sweat lining the rim of his pirate hat, and how his coat clings to his arms like a second skin. He is suddenly aware of the intensity of Lovino's gaze, and the sweating of his itching palms. Maybe it's the alcohol; maybe it's love— but Antonio can't help but feel like the room revolves only around the both of them.
Lovino, who's already more than intoxicated, wastes no time in losing himself to the music, moving his body to every pulsating beat and throwing his arms up in the air. Every time there's a bass drop, the paint cannons up front and along the sides shoot out coloured powder, dyeing Lovino's once pristine ivory white Roman costume fuchsia, orange, red and yellow. Antonio wants nothing more but to pull Lovino flush against him, but he doesn't. He keeps a respectful distance and he doesn't want to jeopardise anything if Lovino took it the wrong way.
After what seemed like a short amount of time, Lovino is keen on getting himself another drink. So they head for a bar near the stage, where there are more and more people getting drunker by the minute. There's a lounge area where a hookah is set up on the low coffee table, and there are several people around it taking turns and passing the tube around.
When Antonio turns to look at Lovino, he sees him on his phone busily texting again. Antonio blinked in realisation. Come to think of it, why hadn't Allistor come? Well, not that he was complaining or anything. Lovi had basically ditched his friends to spend time with him, after all (They fucking hate you, he remembers Lovi saying). Though he felt smug because of that, deep inside, he knew nobody would ever hold a candle to Allistor in terms of priority to Lovino. Except for Bella and Feliciano, probably. Maybe.
Instead of heading for the bar, Lovino instead veers off to the side. Antonio is quick to follow him, nudging the Italian's elbow. "Where are we going? I thought you wanted a drink."
"I'm going up front," Lovino says only loud enough for Antonio to hear, eyes still focussed on his phone even as he sidestepped several drunk schoolmates with relative accuracy and efficiency. There's a smile on his face, and it's one that's much more genuine and sincere— one that he gets only when he talks to one person and one person only. "My boyfriend's on his way here, so I'll wait for him outside."
"I'll go with you!" Antonio says quickly.
"You already are," Lovi responds.
The autumn air is cold when they step outside of The Black Box. Most times, people only went outside when they needed some fresh air or to smoke a cigarette, even though there was, however, a section in the VIP area that permitted smoking. Lampposts and shrubbery aside, there are these low walls that fence the building in. It's low enough to sit on, but high enough to leave most peoples' legs dangling inches above the floor. There are others outside, smoking and having a beer together as they leaned over the fences.
The wind hits Lovino like a ton of bricks, his bare arms and legs especially taking the brunt of the chill. He shivers and rubs at the bumps rising on his skin. This doesn't go amiss. Within seconds, Antonio is shrugging his vibrant red coat off and offering it to Lovino, who refuses. But still, Antonio insists Lovino take it, or else.
"'Or else' what?" Lovino challenges, up until a strong gust of wind nearly blows his costume up à la Marilyn Monroe. He yanks the coat right out of Antonio's hands, a string of curses leaving his lips as his face grew a flustered red.
"Aww, you're so cute, Lovi!" Antonio exclaims, laughing as he does so.
"I'm not! Stop calling me 'cute', dammit," Lovino grumbles in response, shrugging the red velveteen coat on. Immediately, warmth envelops him, and he brings the coat around him even tighter.
They stay silent for a while. Lovino, waiting for Allistor to arrive; Antonio, revelling in the sight of Lovino wearing his coat. The night so far was amazing. They danced together and Antonio finally knew what it was like to hold Lovino's hand. His cheerful demeanour dampens slightly when he remembers why he is with Lovino right now in the first place. He is here to keep him company while he waits for his boyfriend. Antonio's eyes darken as he looks down at his hands.
Lovino tries to get up and sit on the fence, and he struggles a bit. When Antonio offers to help him, Lovino says he doesn't need it, but plants his hand on Antonio's shoulder for a boost anyway.
"Goddammit, I hate being this short," Lovino mumbles, placing his hands down on the cool marble and closing his eyes. "You know Feliciano's taller than me, right? It's like he gets all the good genes."
Antonio looks up at the expression on Lovino's face and examines him carefully. He moves closer, Lovino's legs dangling on either side of him. "I wouldn't say that," the Spaniard says carefully, taking a deep breath and pushing the sepulchral thoughts out of his head. His heart feels like it's being torn into two, but never mind.
Lovino's eyes snap open and he looks at Antonio accusingly, hazel eyes narrowed. He opens his mouth to say something, but then he closes it and says nothing.
"Really," Antonio insists, but he has a hunch that Lovino doesn't believe him. Maybe if he were someone more important in Lovino's life, like Bella or Allistor, he would be more inclined to believe him. But he's not, and he's not sure if he ever will be.
Okay. Bad thoughts. Bad thoughts again.
Gotta get them out of his system, because the atmosphere between them right now is a bad kind of sober.
Antonio smiles encouragingly at him. "Well, being short isn't always a bad thing! You can just say you're fun-sized!"
That elicits a snort. "'Fun-sized'?" Lovino echoes, expression incredulous.
"Yeah!" Antonio chirps. "Or maybe 'big things come in small packages'."
Lovino hits him in the shoulder with his fist, laughing raucously. "You cheesy bastard."
The tense air dissipates, and they go back to talking, and joking around. Lovi sure doesn't seem like it, but if you get to know him better, you'll see that he's actually quite talkative! Really!
He enjoyed listening to Lovi talk, how his Italian accent would sometimes become more prominent with some words more than others. The way he went at lengths with describing a few antics he'd done before in a party he once went to, or how the treble of Feliciano's voice would often reach its extremes when he was ranting in exasperation, lecturing him about useless shit over and over again.
Lovino said it sounded like Feli inhaled the contents of a helium balloon, and how it was funny as fuck at times ("Imagine a chipmunk drilling corny inspirational quotes into your brain.") but it'd grate on his nerves during others ("Imagine a chipmunk lecturing you how to make friends.") More often than not, Lovino would paint him a vivid picture of what was going on, and in his mind's eye, he could see it oh-so clearly.
He could see in little glimpses how this made Lovi such a good storyteller. Maybe he'd get to read something of Lovi's one day.
The sound of someone clearing their throat cuts through their laughter, and Antonio's blood runs cold the moment his eyes meet Allistor's. Shit. Well— It wasn't like they were doing anything wrong, but he had to admit, he and Lovino were in a rather… intimateposition. But hopefully, Allistor wouldn't think anything of it, right?
Lovino immediately turns to face his boyfriend, a grin on his face as he jumped off the fence, hurrying over to him. "Hey, you're here! You took forever, dammit." With this, Lovino in his high-spirits, wraps his arms around Allistor's torso and buries his face into the Scotsman's chest.
Allistor wraps his arm around Lovino protectively, eyes still locked with Antonio's. "Yeah, practise ran a wee bit late this time, Lov."
Lovino pulls away and his face reddens tenfold when he realises what Allistor is wearing.
"Is… Is that a kilt?"
Allistor grins down at him. "Mmhm!"
"God, that's pretty hot." Lovino murmurs, running a hand down Allistor's chest.
"Yeh aren't looking to bad yerself, luv," Allistor murmurs. There's a hidden implication in his words and it doesn't take long for Lovino to put two and two together. "'Ow about we 'ave a drink, Ah greet some of my friends real quick, and yeh come over ta my place?"
Lovino stares into Allistor's eyes. He's about 200% sure his face is practically glowing red, but fuck it. He smirks. "Netflix and chill?"
Allistor smiles coyly, kissing Lovino's knuckles. "Mmhm. What do yeh say, Lov?"
He stays silent for several moments before he heads towards the building, pulling Allistor with him. "Let's hurry up, dammit!"
Just as Lovino enters The Black Box once more, Allistor excuses himself for a second, stepping back out to look at Antonio. Their gazes meet. He smiles evenly. "Stay th' fuck away from me boyfriend, mate."
Antonio can do nothing but stare at the Scot's retreating back, hopelessness seizing his gut.
Translations:
Grazie a Dio - Thank God (It.)
Ti amo - I love you (It.)
Dio - God (It.)
Nonno - grandfather (It.)
Dios - God (Esp.)
Hey guys. I've rewritten this numerous times before I finally found a writing style I was content with, as well as the content itself, hence the delay.
In other news, I've found Lovino's school of thought, especially in reference to the first chapter. It is one that rivals existentialism, really.
Existentialism focusses on asking oneself questions such as, 'What is the purpose of human existence?' and 'Why do I exist?'. A school of modern thought regards these questions as nonsensical in the sense that they are unanswerable; therefore, there is no point in asking them.
A more gruesome extension to that is to prove oneself as his own godhead (for those who are atheists), master of their fate, one must kill himself [as seen is Dostoevsky's The Devils].
For Lovino, he sees himself merely existing for the sake of his brother. And not even in an important sense, either. When Feliciano won't 'need' him anymore, it would render his 'purpose' and, thus, existence obsolete. All and any attempts by him to find his purpose in life would be futile, because inevitably, he will die.
Which leads me to this question I ask you: whenever you read of Lovino or of Antonio's thoughts, thoughts that are somewhat philosophical, do you ever ponder on them also? Or do you just read it as is?
Anyways, I hope you guys liked this chapter! As you can see, there is a lot of drama bubbling beneath the surface.
Leave a review, por favor! Feedback is always appreciated so, sooo much. I can assume that my writing has changed somewhat. I hope y'all still like this story!
~jellydonut16~
P.S. Expect a more sombre Toni in the next chapter, as well as another small timeskip. Guess what's the next thing getting crossed off the list next chapter!