Anonymous said: I'm sick and would really appreciate some spamano making out

If anyone's interested, there's a PruMano / Prussia's turn of this lol

"Hello!"

Lovino licked his thumb and flipped the page of his book. "Welcome to CryoLife labs."

"I'd like to—to, ah, donate!"

Lovino looked up slowly. "I'm sorry?"

The man was smiling. Very broadly. "I heard you can make two-hundred dollars donating s—donating. Can that be arranged?"

Lovino raised an eyebrow. "How tall are you?"

The man blinked, obviously confused, but certainly not dropping the grin. "Ah. I have no idea."

Lovino looked back down at his book. "Yeah, sorry, whatever you plan on doing, it's probably not going to work out."

"What?"

Lovino sighed, dragging his eyes back to the guy. "Let me guess, you're broke?"

The smiled dimmed. "I wouldn't say broke…"

"You're working a dead-end job, you want a game system or whatever, and your dumb friend has this brilliant idea—donate sperm! Right? It's not like we have a vetting system, or disease and drug testing, or, hell, require you to have a high school diploma!" Lovino took a deep, calming breath. "So, no."

The guy looked at him, and the smile hopped back onto his face. "I have a high school diploma!"

Lovino nodded. "Alright, but you're going to need to be in a four-year degree program from a university. You have that?"

The guy held up his hands. "I think we got off on the wrong foot here. My name is Antonio." He stuck his hand through the reception window.

Lovino frowned at the hand. "You're invading my bubble."

"What?"

"Nothing. I'm afraid—"

"I'm not broke," Antonio said, "I just have a lot of student loans!"

"From high school?"

Antonio laughed, leaning through the receptionist window. Lovino leaned back, holding up his book in defense.

"No! Lovino, right?"

Lovino used his book to cover up his nametag.

"Lovino, I do have a college degree! It was very, very expensive to get, even. So, I figured, I could help someone out and do the s—the donating thing!" Antonio leaned against the reception box, head tilted to the side. "What do you say?"

Lovino blinked. "You can say 'sperm,' you know. We are a sperm bank."

Antonio nodded. "Can I have an application?"

"You're not blond."

Antonio withdrew a little bit, eyebrows drawing together in a light, puzzled confusion. "What?"

"Most people want a blond baby."

The door into the reception office behind Lovino. Lovino spun around in his office chair, standing up immediately, blocking Antonio the best he could with his back.

"Feliciano, you have an appointment—"

Feliciano waved a hand. "Oh, Lovino, for the last time, it's Dr. Vargas! I'm a doctor!"

"Feliciano, you shove turkey basters—"

Feliciano waved his arms in the air, talking loudly. "We bring families together, Lovino!"

"I'm going to bring my book and your face together if you don't shut the fu—"

Feliciano's eyes focused behind Lovino. "Oh, hello there! Welcome to CryoLife labs, where we bring families meant to be together. How can we help you today?"

Lovino remained standing in front of Antonio. "He's not blond."

Feliciano laughed. "Oh, the Smiths don't know what they want in a baby."

Lovino shook his head. "No, trust me, Anton—this fucker is annoying."

Feliciano leaned to his right, seeing past Lovino. "Do you have a college degree? Yes? How tall are you? Well, you look like you're over five-nine—can you smile for me? Oh, yes, those teeth will do nicely in the bio. Lovino, could you sit down with Antonio and do his forms? I'm about to meet with the Hills, so…"

Feliciano smiled.

Lovino glared.

Antonio smiled at the two of them, like a big, stupid dog.

Lovino sighed, ran a hand over his face, turned, and grabbed the clipboard. "Thanks, Dr. Fuckface, you go meet with the Hills. I'll deal with Antonio."

…

"Alright, name?"

"Antonio Fernandez Carriedo."

Lovino stared at the "name" section of the application. Incredibly, they had already hit a roadblock. Lovino should have gone to medical school; the culinary degree was a big mistake.

Lovino sounded it out phonetically.

"Right. Age?"

"Twenty-seven."

"Right. And you don't know your height, because why would you know your height? Get a measuring tape and measure yourself, for Pete's Sake."

Antonio stared at him. Lovino stared back, getting increasingly uncomfortable.

"Ah!" Antonio yelled. He slapped at his pockets, grabbing his wallet. "My height is on my driver's license! Problem solved."

Lovino couldn't believe he hadn't thought of that.

"Five-ten!" Antonio announced proudly.

"Perfect. Have you ever had gonorrhea?"

Antonio was staring at him again. "Have I had what?"

Lovino groaned and ran his hand over his face and through his hair. "Have you ever had gonorrhea? You know, burns when you pee? Weird spots on your dick that burn? Any of this ringing a bell?"

Antonio's mouth hung open. "That sounds awful."

"My brother had it once. It wasn't great."

Lovino checked off the "no" for the sexual diseases.

"So, your boyfriend doesn't have gon-a-re-ha?"

Lovino froze. Closed his eyes. "Antonio, just to be clear here, you're interested in donating sperm."

"Yes?"

"Right, just letting you know I'm going to be testing your sperm count. I hope you feel emasculated by that."

…

"Alright, now for the important part." Lovino opened the door to what his brother affectionately called the "baby-making" room. "So, over there you'll find a charming assortment of my brother's favorite porn, magazine or DVD, whatever you prefer, and…"

Lovino handed him a cup.

"What's this?"

Lovino was going to be testing a total idiot' sperm. "It's a cup. You ejaculate into it."

Antonio looked from the cup to Lovino. "Ah."

Lovino looked around, just checking to make sure everything was alright, and by the time he looked back around, Antonio's pants were around his ankles and his dick was in his hand.

Lovino slapped a hand over his eyes. "What the fuck you fucking crazy mother fucker why do you have your dick out already! I'm in the room! I didn't even shut the door! What the fucking fuck!"

"Ah, sorry, I—" Lovino heard Antonio stumble, and there was a thud of an ass presumably hitting the ground.

Lovino was frozen. He couldn't look because stranger dick, but what if Antonio had knocked over a table or something? He wasn't saying anything—fuck, maybe Antonio had bashed his head on the table.

"Antonio?" Lovino called, inching forward, toes searching out in front of him to make sure he didn't also trip and bash his head open. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. I tripped over my pants, but don't worry, I stayed hard!"

Lovino let out a single laugh.

Lovino immediately returned to glowering at the general vicinity of Antonio's voice. "Okay, well, ejaculate into the cup. I'll be waiting outside the door to test your sperm count."

Lovino carefully turned around, and ran to the door. He shut it, trying to erase Antonio's dick from his mind's eye. All things considered, it wasn't an awful dick.

Lovino hid his face in his hands. These are things he should not be thinking about a client's dick.

"Um, Lovino?"

Lovino looked at the doorknob. "Are you done already?"

"Ah, no, but I… Well, what do I think about?"

Lovino's immediate response: "Vaginas."

"No, don't remind me, ah—"

Lovino frowned, nervous Antonio would lose his wood. "Fuck, sorry, fuck, um, dicks?"

"What, a floating dick?"

"No, not a floating dick! Imagine the dick attached to someone! Someone hot!" Lovino stared intently at the doorknob.

"Can I think of you?"

Lovino took a deep breath. He evaluated his life choices that had led him to this point. It was a long evaluation.

"Lovino?"

"No, Antonio, you cannot imagine a dick attached to me."

"What about your brother?"

Lovino's head jerked back. "What? You think my brother is hot?"

"I mean—"

"Hey, fuck you!"

"I'm just trying to ejaculate!" Antonio called, desperate, through the wood of the door.

"Well, fuck, don't think of fucking Feliciano! He's had gonorrhea!"

"I don't know that that is!"

"Burning pee, Antonio!"

"That's not helping!"

Lovino should have gone to fucking law school.

"Imagine someone licking your dick, that way you don't have to picture a face?"

A pause from behind the door. "Oh, that's working. Thank you!"

…

Lovino hunched over the test tubes. Feliciano strolled in, humming an annoying song.

"He seems nice," Feliciano sang.

"You seem like a fucking dicknose."

Feliciano nodded. "He seems like your type. Did you get his number?" Feliciano leaned closer, whispering into Lovino's ear. "Did you see his dick?"

Lovino would have punched Feliciano in the face had he not been holding a vial full of sperm.