Not even the thick, stone walls could drown out the deafening roar of the audience above him. Whenever the crowd let out a unanimous 'ole', he knew that his fellow bullfighters had danced with danger and won, managing to wow them. Antonio grinned. Dios mio, did he love that sound.

Checking to make sure that his outfit was secure and neatly placed, he glanced over at the photograph on the table in front of him. It was a picture of his grandfather, in all of his glory. He was smiling widely, and was holding a smaller version of himself. His abuelo had been the one to ignite his love of the sport, and many said that his talent ran through Antonio's own veins. Throughout the warm days spent learning everything there was to know, his abuelo always said that what made a bullfighter great wasn't flash, wasn't arrogance, but the burning desire to do so. He always replied that he would make his grandfather proud, and in return he would merely ruffle his hair and say that if he wanted to do it, he could, and that was that. He felt his smile slip a little. His other family members though...all he wanted to do was do what he loved.

But enough of that. It was time. He turned and grabbed his cape.

-Antonio-

When he entered the ring, the once muted cheers turned to thunderous roars, the sheer volume of it giving him an adrenaline rush. He gave a bow, and a wave. The cheers hadn't died down in the slightest; if anything, they increased. He chuckled as he passed by a group of young women, winking at them. Shrieks assaulted his eardrums in return, but he was used to it. He knew he was a heartbreaker, but despite his naturally flirtatious and affectionate nature and his massive popularity, he wasn't really invested in the whole 'play the field' mentality. He was looking for su amor; su corazon, su preciado de un. He was searching for his love; his heart, his cherished one. Gil and Francis called him crazy and overly sentimental, but he knew they were out there somewhere.

Speaking of the devils, the other two pieces of the 'Bad Touch Trio' were howling along with the crowd, whistling and laughing. He grinned, waving enthusiastically. Who were those people sitting with them? He knew the taller blonde was Gilbert's hermano menor. But the other blonde he had never seen before. Moving on, he saw the cutest little...Italian? He was going to say Italian. And finally, on the very end...

Dios mio, there he was.

He was definitely related to the one on his left, but he was...different. He was a little taller; a little more built, but he was still waifish and lean. His hair was a shade darker, with a peculiar curl sticking straight outwards. His brother had one too, but it tilted a little lower. Unlike his brother, he wasn't overly excited, or excited at all, it seemed. His face was distinctly unimpressed, at least, until they made eye contact. Sweet Maria, those eyes. They weren't brown, nor were they green. They were a swirling whirlpool of natural hues that he felt like he could drown in, if it were possible. Antonio felt the smile that Francis insisted "would get you laid, Toni, if you would only go through with it! Yeah, you unawesome asshole, quit hogging the attention if you aren't going to do anything about it!". The response was almost immediate; his face shot through at least four shades of red, and his curl seemed to...twitch? Hm. But he reminded him of a juicy, ripe tomato.

They always had been his favorite fruit.

But instead of swooning or giggling, his face contorted into a (still quite cute) little scowl. Ah. So he was not easily impressed, was he? Well, all the more reason to put on a show. He'd give it all he had. The bull was released, and the fight began.

-Antonio-

"Wow, that asshole really is doing awesome today, isn't he?"

"Oui. But I wonder what this new passion oozing from him is stemming from."

"Yeah, me to-wait. You don't mean?"

"I do. Our little Toni is certainly, completely, undeniably in love~"

"That fucker. Why didn't he say anything?"

Francis just hummed, and turned his eyes back towards Antonio. His movements were more fluid than ever, the snap of his cape crisper than before. Every step, every twist, every turn screamed seduction, and he wondered if maybe, just maybe...

Aha. There it was.

The heated gaze rested on one spot for a second too long. Leaning over, he saw the older Vargas brother...Lovino, was it? He saw him nearly burst into flames, his face was so red. He chuckled and leaned back into his seat.

"What? What! Francis, you unawesome asshole, what's happening?"

"Our Toni seems to want some Italian for dinner tonight~"

"Some Italian-fuck. Happy one or bitchy one?"

"Bitchy one."

"Of course he does."

"He never was one to back down from a challenge, was he?"

Gilbert groaned.

"How could he do this to us? It's supposed to be a trio, not a duo! How the hell are we supposed to keep up our awesome reputation if one of our dumbasses is after somebody?"

"We will still be an infamous trio, don't you fret. Besides, that petite little blonde seems to have taken a liking to you~"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP."

-Antonio-

They screamed 'ole' one final time as Antonio ended his fight. He was sweaty, and his muscles ached, but his heart pounded. He looked over to where the object of his affections was sitting, and found him talking to the other blonde. An unfamiliar, dark feeling washed up in him as he chatted with him. Who was he? Was that his boyfriend? No, if it was his boyfriend, they would be sitting next to each other. Best friend? Damn it, what was going on? But the feeling dissipated when he looked over at him again, flushed, and squirmed. Oh, he liked what he saw, all right. He was sure of it.

So he strolled up to where they all sat, hopped over the ledge, and rested his arms on the front wall.

"Hola, mi amigos. Did you enjoy the fight?"

"Hell yeah, Toni! You were amazing!"

"Thanks, Gil."

"Oui. You were quite passionate out there my friend. Dare I say, seductive. Anything you want to tell us?"

The two snickered as a dusting of red fell over his cheeks.

"That's not important! Hola, Ludwig. Who are your friends?"

"Hallo, Antonio. These are Matthew Williams, and Feliciano and Lovino Vargas."

"Ve~ It's really nice to meet you! You were so cool out there!"

"Aw, thank you!"

His eyes finally landed on his desire. Dios Mio, he was even more alluring up close. He leaned forwards.

"It's nice to meet you too."

"W-what are you doing? Back away, damnit! You're too close!"

"Aw, don't be so cold, Lovi~!"

Lovino's eye twitched.

"The fuck is a Lovi?"

"You are!"

"It's Lo-vi-no."

"I know that, Lovi~"

"Stop it!"

"Make me."

The Italian flushed at the words. Damn, his voice. That accent was-disgusting! Really! It sent shivers down his spine-not like that! It was only a little sexy-no it wasn't! What the ever-loving fuck, brain!

Antonio chuckled at the speechless Italian, who was opening and closing his mouth in a vain attempt to find words. Well, what fun it was to make him squirm~

Bad Antonio. Stop it. You're not Francis.

That's right. He was Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo, and he would behave himself, and romance him properly! He would get to know him better, and win him over! And only then would he hold him down and kiss that pout away leaving him gasping for air as he cried out his name writhing and squirming and-

He shook his head, barely refraining from slapping himself. He took a deep breath and prayed that Lovi took his flushed appearance as exertion from the fight. This couldn't continue. He had only spoken with him, and this was happening? He hadn't gotten one of...those...since high school. Why now? It was time to go.

"Well, I'll see you later guys. And it was nice to meet you all, as well! As for you, Lovi..."

He unwrapped his cape from around his arm.

"This is for you. I hope you'll come see my next fight next Saturday."

"W-what? Why the fuck-"

"Just consider it a souvenir."

-Lovino-

Before he could scream at the bastard, he had already hopped down and jogged back to the opening. And damnit, he absolutely did not stare at his ass while he did.

Fine. Maybe a little.

Fuck, he stared at it a lot, alright? Why don't you try not staring at it, sanctimonious assholes?

He unconsciously held the cape tighter towards his chest. He saw others eye it, and he refrained from hissing at them. Now that he thought about it, he could make a shit-ton of money by selling this thing. But some stupid fucking part of him didn't want to get rid of it. It was his. He groaned. He was so fucked.

"Ve~ Lovi got a souvenir! Can I hold it, fratello?"

"NO! And don't fucking call me that!"