-Lovino-

He didn't know what the fuck he was doing.

Scratch that, he knew what he was doing. He didn't know why the fuck he was doing it.

"I hope you'll come to my next fight next Saturday."

Oh, right. That was why.

He was such a fucking idiot.

So that was how he found himself sneaking past Feliciano's door (didn't know why, fucker slept like a rock), and knocking on what he hoped was Ludwig's door (Feliciano had showed him, but he wasn't really paying attention) at nine o'clock at night on a Sunday. He didn't even know if he would answer. He chewed his lip as he waited, and was about to just turn around and leave when the door opened. Ludwig was completely unruffled, despite the hour. The only difference was that his hair wasn't slicked back as it had been during the day. Ludwig raised an eyebrow.

"May I help you, Lovino? You are aware of the time, and the fact that we start classes tomorrow?"

"I know that bas-"

He bit his tongue. No. He couldn't cuss him out, he was there with a request. He had to be civil, lest he wind up with a door to the face.

"Look, I get it, damn it. But…I need another one of those passes."

Ludwig raised an eyebrow.

"May I ask why?"

His face burned.

Because I'm a fucking idiot whose traitorous heart decided to be a little bitch and fall for a fucking star bullfighter.

"It's none of your business! I just…need one."

"Well, I'll ask Gilbert if he can spare one."

"T-thank you. And please, in the name of Holy Maria don't tell Feliciano."

"Why not?"

Because he'll probably wind up getting all the fucking praise and attention like he usually does, and I don't think I could fucking take it.

"I just don't want him annoying me, damn it! I want to watch the fight in peace!"

Ludwig raised his eyebrow again, as if he could literally smell the shitty lie that was coming out of his mouth. But he didn't say anything, only sighing and running a hand through his hair.

"Fine. I won't tell. But I hope you know what you're doing."

And with that, he shut the door.

-Lovino-

That Friday, Ludwig handed him a plain, discrete manila envelope during lunch. Feliciano had whined when he wouldn't tell him what was in it, and the rest were curious as well. Lovino had told them all to mind their fucking business, and that it was only a map of Spain and a brochure so he could get started on his newest project. Feliciano had asked if he could come, to which Lovino had given a 'hell no' that left no room for discussion.

So that was how he found himself at the arena at noon, fingers tightening on his backpack straps. He tried to maneuver through the crowds without bumping anyone, but with how many people there were it was impossible. So by the time he reached the entrance, he was irritated as fuck.

Both Gilbert and Francis raised their eyebrows at his facial expression.

"Wow, you didn't have to come if you're that angry about being here."

"Fuck off. That's not why I'm angry. Inconsiderate fuckers."

Gilbert laughed. He had a weird ass laugh, and he didn't like it.

"Kesesesese! Well, our Tonio has brought it in quite a bit of business."

"Must be that Fernandez-Carriedo charm, oui?"

Lovino blushed. Asshole was charming. Fuck. Whatever section of his brain was thinking these thoughts, he was going to bash it in with a hammer if it kept bringing those types of thoughts forward.

"Aw, look at that face! Adorable!"

He almost kicked him in the crotch, but he didn't want to dirty his foot. Fucker probably had a disease or something.

They made their way to the seats they had sat in last time, and the event began.

-Antonio-

Antonio felt nervous.

He hadn't felt this nervous since his first fight. Would Lovi be there? Was he impressed last time? Was he upset at how forward he'd been? He shook his head. He couldn't be distracted. Distraction was dangerous in this sport. But he still hoped…

He trotted out when it was his turn, giving his usual bow and wave, but not paying as much attention. There were no flirty glances or blown kisses, and even the announcer stated how determined he looked. As they readied the bull, his eyes found their way to the box his friends frequented. And his eyes widened, and his smile hurt his cheeks.

Lovino was there next to his friends, looking much more interested than before. When the made eye contact, he waved him over. And in his hands was…his old cape? His heart sank. Was he going to turn him down, and give it back? He jogged over, and stood in his normal spot.

"Hola, Lovi. I see you brought your souvenir. Are you…giving it back?"

"…Ciao, Antonio. And…look-I just…fuck."

Antonio tilted his head. What was he so nervous about?

"I brought it because…normal red doesn't suit you, damn it. So…until you get a new one…I want you to… use…this one…"

Antonio's eyes widened as Lovi's voice trailed off into an embarrassed mumble. He could feel his own cheeks warm. He thought it suited him? He liked his performance that much? He gently took his old cape, still warm from where Lovi had it clutched in his hands.

"And I want that back, damn it! In one piece! So be careful, you fucker, so you don't tear it!"

Please be careful.

"Don't worry, Lovi! I'll take care of it!"

I will. I promise.

"As disgustingly cute as this exchange is, they're done checking over the bull. So you better get your corny ass down there, lover-boy."

Antonio laughed nervously at the nickname, and hopped down. He felt the cape flutter in the summer wind, and his heart pounded knowing that it was Lovi's. Lovi still wanted it. And he had come, all by himself, to watch him fight. That fight, people claimed, had been his best fight yet.

And it was all because su estrella was watching.