-Antonio-

"Antonio."

"Hm?"

"Antonio."

"Hm?"

"Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo, you unawesome fucker, I swear if you don't snap the fuck out of it right fucking now I will tell your precious 'Lovi~' about the one time you got so shit-faced at a party that you jumped out of someone's window naked and landed in a fucking tree!"

The results were instantaneous. Antonio perked to attention, windmilling his arms as he fought to maintain balance on his perch on the back of a recliner. It was a losing battle, and he let out a yelp as he fell, and then a groan as he hit the floor. He glared up at his albino friend.

"You wouldn't."

"I would, and you fucking know it."

"You promised to take that to your grave!"

"Don't make me break my promise, then!"

"What about when you crawled up on stage and started bawling while singing a horrible rendition of 'Stronger' after that Elizabeta chick broke up with you?"

"She left me for an Austrian music nerd! I was justified."

Antonio merely snorted, and Gilbert tackled him. They rolled around for a minute, trying to put the other in a headlock. Francis merely finished retying his ribbon keeping his long, quite fabulous hair in a ponytail.

"No breaking the bullfighter, Gil. He's valuable."

"I know Francis. But he's ruining our Guy's Night."

"Well, excuse me for having a romantic crisis."

"Man, you are much more fun when you are a cheerful idiot."

"Gilbert!"

"What? It's the truth."

"Be that as it may, Antonio here has fallen down the deep, mysterious tunnel that is amour. We should celebrate."

"Dude looks fucking depressed, Francis. Should we be celebrating or comforting? Either way, it requires a shit-ton of more alcohol, which I am going to fetch."

Antonio threw himself face down onto a red beanbag. Gilbert plopped down next to him in a yellow one once he returned from the kitchen with said alcohol.

"I don't know why you're so worked up over this. You spoke to him all of once, and the guy cussed at you for half of that."

Antonio groaned.

"You just don't get it, Gil. His eyes…they held so much emotion. Those hazel orbs burned with an inner fire that scorched my very soul-"

"You sound like Francis, damn."

Francis crossed his legs from his spot on the other recliner.

"And what is wrong with that? I am an excellent lover, well-skilled in the arts of romance. You wish you could sound like me, you uncouth heathen."

Gilbert narrowed his eyes, taking another swig of his beer. Francis smirked and took another sip of his wine. Antonio groaned into the beanbag again. Gilbert was right. He was being ridiculous. But he couldn't help it. He had found what he had been aching for ever since the fallout. The minute he had made eye contact, he knew he was gone. But he had felt a swell of emotion he never had before, and it was amazing. It was as if the ever-present hole he had in his heart had healed immediately. The loneliness…the feeling of walking through this empty house all alone, all gone. He felt whole. His heart wasn't his anymore, and he didn't know if that was a good or bad thing, honestly.

He wondered if Lovino had kept the 'souvenir' he had given him. He hoped so. It had been a spur of the moment deal, his heart pounding and body moving instinctively. He'd never forget the wide-eyed, red-faced look his Lovi had given him as he accepted them token of his affection. He allowed his imagination to run free, conjuring an image of Lovino clutching his cape to his chest, sighing happily and blushing that cute blush as he thought of who had given it to him. That was nice. That was very nice. He felt his eyes glazing over again, lost in his dream world where his Lovi longed for him in return as much as Antonio did for him.

His dream world was destroyed in an instant when Gilbert's loud protests rang in his ears.

"I do not, you unawesome fucker!"

"You do. You may not be as bad as Antonio, but you're on your way."

Shut the fuck up!"

"So you're telling me, if that cute little shy blonde chose another, you'd congratulate him?"

"Well, no, but-DAMN IT! Stop planting fucking ideas in my head!"

"It's not planting if they're already there~!"

"FUCK!"

Groaning a third time, Antonio stuck an arm out to get another beer. He was far to sober for this.

-Lovino-

Antonio was half-right.

He wasn't sighing, swooning, or longing, but he was clutching the damn thing to his chest, wondering why the fuck he even cared in the first place. He should have just gotten rid of the thing, or have listed it on Ebay by now, but he couldn't do it. And he didn't want to know why he couldn't do it. Burying his burning face into the fabric, he couldn't help but inhale the scent. It smelled like…tomatoes, earth, and sunshine. And he knew sunshine didn't have scent, but if it did, that's what it would fucking smell like, alright?

He had folded it (folded it, damn it) and put it in a box under his bed, but here he was, ten o'clock at night, unable to sleep. So for some strange reason, he decided to drag the cape (Being careful not to rip it) out of its hiding spot, and snuggle with the fucking thing. It was all that bastard's fault for being so…so…flirtatious!

He couldn't help but feel…special. Normally people fawned over his brother, who was much cuter and more talented. He couldn't help but feel a little hurt, damn it! But that stupid fucking Spaniard made him feel important and wanted. It killed him to admit it, but it was nice to have someone give him attention and affection for once. Fuck, he was pathetic. But that didn't stop him from clutching the cape close as he snuggled under the covers, letting the scent surround him and lull him to sleep.