"Hey, Santiago, what do you think of this?" A olive-skinned brunet clad only in a pair of black silk boxers inspected himself in the full-body mirror fixed to the wall before him, hand clutching the hanger on which an outfit was hung on. His question was voiced to the other man in the large bedroom, whose naked body was draped across the silken sheets of the king-size bed, blankets pulled across his face. The other made no indication that he had heard the question, eyes remaining closed. Forming a pout that was rather unsightly for a grown man, the fashionista threw the clothes onto a pile that seemed to be growing by the minute. "Fine, you lazy bastard. Your fashion sense isn't as good as mine, anyway."
Artemio Vargas sighed. Luciano had revealed some rather interesting news last night, so he wanted to pop in sometime that week to see his cute, stab-happy fratello and the little mouse he had found.
After a minute of consideration, the Italian decided on a classy dress shirt and low-cut skinny jeans, with a simple vest to top it off. Slipping on his signature tinted sunglasses, he turned to the Spaniard snoozing away. His outfit for the day was good, but Santiago's was definitely crap. Knowing him, he'd probably just pull on pants and go shirtless or something. Artemio detested it. Santiago always stole away the women Artemio managed to get close to without even trying. Which were not too many. Due his flamboyant behaviour, most assumed Artemio batted for the other team, which he totally did not.
Pulling the long-haired man out of bed despite his grumbling, Artemio exasperatedly began digging through his extensive closet with one arm wrapped around Santiago's bicep.
This would take a long while.
