Hey guys, so it's been about a month since I last posted so I worked extra hard on this chapter. I hope you enjoy this update! I'll update in the next five days, promise!
Disclaimer: I don't own hetalia...
The Next Night
"Antonio?" Francis asked, walking into the kitchen. He saw the Spaniard by the counter with a board full of sliced tomatoes. The brunette had just finished cutting the last of his cherry red tomatoes. "What are you doing?"
"Just preparing dinner," Antonio answered, setting down his knife. He retrieved a bowl from one of the cabinets above him and slid all the tomato slices off the counter into the basin.
"What are you making?"
"Sliced tomatoes," the Spaniard explained simply, taking a fork from a nearby drawer, before walking over to the dining table and setting his dinner on it. He pulled a chair out and took a seat. "Why?"
"Nothing, forget it." The Frenchman shook his head, slightly chuckling. "I should've known. So, is this all your doing tonight? Staying inside?"
"Yeah," the brunette said meekly, stabbing a few tomato slices with his fork. "Maybe I'll watch a movie later or something. How 'bout you though? You look like you're going on a date," he commented, taking note of his friend's attire. Francis was wearing a tight navy dress shirt with dark jeans and black shoes.
"I'm not going on a date."
"Are you sure? Cause I think..." Antonio sniffed the air. "Yeah, I swear it's..." He put his fork on the table then got up and walked by his friend, smelling the scent that the Frenchman was emitting. "I knew it!" the Spaniard exclaimed, pointing at his pal accusingly. "You're wearing Eau Sauvage! You only wear that when you're going on a date."
"How do you know that?" Francis asked bewildered, taking a few steps away from the man. "I never told you that."
"Because I'm your best friend, of course," the brunette smiled.
"Come on Antonio," Gilbert began, walking into the kitchen and joining the conversation. "We all know that the awesome me is totally Francis's best friend."
"No, that's not true!" Antonio cried. "I'm his best friend!"
"Are you calling me a liar?!" the German questioned, glaring at his friend.
"I ain't calling you to dinner!"
"Wait, what?" the albino asked, a little taken aback.
"What?"
"Nothing, forget it," the Prussian dismissed, pulling out a chair and taking a seat at the dining table. "And yeah Francis, practically everybody knows that Eau Sauvage is your signature date cologne. You're so predi- hey, what's this?" The silverette noticed the bowl of tomato slices on the table. "Is someone making a salad or something?"
"No, that's just my dinner," the Spaniard explained simply, before turning his attention back to Francis. "So, who's the lucky guy?"
"First of all, this is not my date cologne," Francis clarified. "If that were true I would need a new bottle every wee-"
"Wait," Gilbert interrupted, turning around in his chair to look at Antonio. "Are you telling me that for dinner you're only eating sliced tomatoes?"
"Yeah," the brunette began. "I to-"
"Like you're not going to add lettuce and dressing to it to at least make it a respectable salad?"
"Dressing? And ruin my tomatoes? There's nothing respectable about that. Now Francis, if you not going on a date, even though you are wearing your date cologne, then where are you going?"
"I'm just meeting a guy at a restaurant."
"HA! So you are going on a date!"
"What, no! I'm meeting..." Francis paused for a second, realizing he had forgotten the Russian's name. "I'm meeting my 'best friend' for dinner."
"Impossible," Gilbert injected. "I'm sitting right here. There's no way you could be meeting me for dinner."
"I didn't mean you mon ami."
"Then why'd you say best friend? I know you're French and all but you do know what best friend means, right?"
"Bien sûr, je sais ce que signifie meilleur ami!"
"See, you answering me in French doesn't really help your case."
"Je l'ai dit." The Frenchman paused for a second. "I said, I know what best friend means."
"Then I'm confused."
"He's obviously talking about me then," Antonio smirked, satisfied with himself. "I told you I wa- wait." He stopped talking as he realized something. "I'm with you right now. There's no way you could meeting me for dinner either."
"I know," the blond said. "I wasn't talking about either one of you."
"Then who are you talking about?" Antonio asked, worried. "Are you cheating on us with a new best friend?!"
"Wait, what?" Gilbert asked, looking at his French friend. "That is so not awesome."
"I don't get you guys at all," Francis realized, staring at the last two members of the trio. Suddenly, Francis's phone alarm went off. "Shoot," he said, pressing the ok button on his iPhone. "I got to go now. I can't be late."
"Of course you can't. He is your best friend after all. Wouldn't want to be wasting you time talking to us schmucks when you could be talking to him," the German said, turning back around in his chair.
"Come on guys, it's not like that. Antonio?" The Spaniard simply walked past the blond and sat down at the dining table in front of his dinner.
"I hope you have fun," the brunette wished, not looking at the Frenchman.
"Thanks." Francis put his phone in his pocket and left the room.
"Mein gott, what was that?" Gilbert asked, after he heard the Frenchman close the front door. "You can't be mad at somebody and still wish they have a good outing."
"Why not?" the older man asked, surprised, picking up his fork. "Just because he has a new best friend doesn't mean I shouldn't hope he has a good time. That's so mean."
"But you're mad at him. You should be mean."
"No, I don't think so," the brunette disagreed, picking up some tomato slices with his fork. He stuffed them in his mouth and looked at his German friend. "So," he began between bites. "What're your plans for tonight?"
"Nothing really. Just going to the coffee shop later."
"Coffee shop?" Antonio asked puzzled, glancing at his watch. "At 8:00 at night? What for?"
"I'm applying for a job," the albino shrugged.
"Applying for a job? But a few months ago I suggested we both get jobs there and you said and I quote 'jobs are for unawesome pansies who have nothing better to do'. Why'd you chan- wait." The Spaniard put his fork down and pointed his finger at the German. "Wait." His look of confusion turned into a smile as he started to giggle.
"What?" Gilbert asked, a bit frightened. "What's so funny?"
"Tomatoes," the brunette let out between chuckles.
"Tomatoes? What does that have to do with anything?" Antonio supressed his laughs and put on a straight face before he replied.
"You still haven't had Mattie's tomatoes so you want to work with him to get a better chance at peaking at his garden."
"Dude, I didn't know what you were talking about yesterday and I still don't understand now."
"Forget it," the Spaniard grinned, dismissing the idea as he continued eating. "You should go shower if you're going to go out later."
"Okay..." the Prussian agreed, getting up, a little worried for his friend's mentle health. "Enjoy your dinner." The brunnette stabbed more tomatoes with his fork as his friend left the room.
"Tomatoes..."
"Hey Lovino!" Arthur called from his bedroom. "Have you seen my brown trousers?! I was planning on wearing them tonight on my date!"
"Jesus fucking Christ Arthur, my room is literally right next to yours," Lovino said as he entered his friend's room. "There's no need for you to fucking yell all the time."
"Well, there's no bloody reason for you to curse all the time and you still do that," the Englishman argued, while buttoning up his shirt.
"You fucking take that back right now or I'll fucking slap the shit out of you!" the Italian threatened, getting into his friend's face.
"Ha! I'd like to see you bloody try you wanker!" the blond retorted as he looked up from his shirt, not even flinching.
"Well maybe I fucking will!" Lovino screamed, getting so close to Arthur that their chests were practically touching.
"Then do it!"
"I will!"
"Good!"
"Fine!"
"Fine!"
"Just you wait!"
"I'm waiting!"
"Ready?!"
"Ready!"
"Okay!"
"Great!"
"Wait...what are we talking about again?" The Englishman paused for a minute.
"I- I don't know. I forgot."
"Huh, me too." He looked down at his feet awkwardly and realized that his roommate was still half-naked.
"Hey man, I cannot stand that close to you when you not wearing any fucking pants!" the Italian complained, shoving the Englishman back onto his bed as he moved in the opposite direction. "Seriously man!"
"Don't fucking push me, you twat! And what the did you hell expect? I asked you where my trousers were; why would I be wearing pants?!"
"I don't know what you do in your free time. Just put on some fucking pants! I have to go get ready," the brunette said as he was about to leave.
"Oh right, you have a date. What's his name again?" Arthur questioned as he got off his bed and finished buttoning up his shirt.
"Lukas. Just Lukas," Lovino replied, turning around.
"So, why are you going on a date with him?"
"What?! What do you mean why am I going on a date with him?" the Italian asked, offended.
"I'm just saying you need to be careful with these kind of people. First, they-"
"Oh my god," Lovino groaned, rubbing his temples. "Don't fucking st-"
"First," Arthur repeated loudly."They slyly ask you out, only giving you their first name so you can't look him up. Then you go on what you thought would be a date and end up liking him. You go on a couple more dates and become boyfriends! You date for about a year then move in together. Then he cheats on you and decides to leave you. He kicks you out of the apartment you bought together and you end up all alone, under a bridge in a box, eating ice cream sadly because that's all the food you can 's how they get you!"
"Where the fuck do you come up with these scenarios, Arthur? And who do you think you are, telling me what to do! I can whatever the fuck I want!" He abruptly turned around and left the room angrily mumbling things like," he thinks he's the boss of me..." and "fuck him..." The dirty blond was about to look for his brown trousers again in his closet when he heard his roommate yell, "And your fucking pants are in the laundry room, you bastard!"
"Why didn't you just say that before?!" Arthur shouted as he made his way to the aforementioned room. "And I thought you said we didn't have to yell!"
"Don't sass me! Bastardo!" The Englishman entered the laundry room and found his pants in the dryer. He heard Lovino turn on the shower as he zipped them up.
*Ding Dong*
"I'll get it!" he cried, walking towards the front door. He heard the shower turn off as he opened the door and found Peter adjusting his bow tie.
"Hey," Peter greeted, looking up. "Ready to g- whoa! Are you really wearing that shirt with those brown pants?"
"What? What do you mean 'am I really wearing that shirt with those brown pants?'"
"Nothing, nothing," the blond assured with a smile. "I mean, most people just try to dress to impress on their first date, but good for you. Not jumping on the bandwagon of basic manners and etiquette in our society." Arthur was about to respond when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned around and found a soaking wet Lovino standing in front of him with the only thing covering him up was a towel clinging to his waist.
"Of course you're going to get the fucking door! Did you really expect me to get out of the middle of my fucking showering to get the door while you drink a fucking cup of tea, you English bastard?!"
"But... you did get out of the shower?" the dirty blond argued, confused.
"No! That was for yelling at you for being so fucking stupid, not to answer the door! Who the hell was it anyway?"
"It was Peter, my date." The Italian looked around the room frantically as though he couldn't believe what he just heard.
"Wait, so you're trying t-" He paused to take a deep breath. "You're trying...okay, to tell me that you wanted me to get of the shower, soaking wet, to get answer the door for your fucking date?!"
"No, I was just letting you know that I was going to get the door!"
"Oh, you know what? I'm sorry," Lovino said, feigning remorse. "I had forgotten that opening the front door was such a great accomplishment that you had to let everyone know when you do it. In fact, what are we doing still standing here? Why haven't we called the presses and let them know that Arthur has opened the door?! In fact, I just can't believe I missed it! Because such an amazing and important event would only occur rarely. You know what, let me just close the door...," the brunette said as he rushed past the Englishman and slammed the door in Peter's face.
"Hey!" Peter cried. "You can't just-"
"Shut up! Something magical is about to happen!" the Italian yelled. He stood back and glared at his roommate as he motioned his hand towards the door.
"Go ahead, open it," he directed calmly.
"What? No, I- I don't want to open now," Arthur argued lamely, staring at his feet like a kindergartner.
"Why not?! You were so excited about opening it a few minutes ago that you had to announce it to the whole house! Open the fucking door Arthur!"
"No, I do-"
"Open.. the door!"
"Fine!" The Englishman shot Lovino daggers as he opened the door again. "Happy?"
"Estatic," the brunette complemented sarcastically, as he mock-clapped. "Oscar winning performance. You co-" The Italian's rating was cut short by his phone's alarm going off on a nearby table. "Shoot, that alarm was set for 8:00," he remembered, glancing at his watch. "I was supposed to be done five minutes ago. See what you did Arthu- wait, it's 8:00."
"Uh yeah, you kinda just said that," Peter pointed out.
"Shut up! I meant that Lukas said he was going to pick me up at 8!"
"So? You're not even dressed yet," the blond commented. "You should be glad he's late."
"That's not the point!" Lovino yelled, getting more annoyed with the man with each passing second. "The point is that if I was ready he would've kept me waiting! I have standards!"
"Pfft. Yeah, you have standards," the Sealander chuckled, rolling his eyes. "Says the man who literally stood in nothing but a towel for ten minutes yelling at his roommate because he said he was going to get the door."
"Yeah...well...just the shut fuck up! I'm going to go finish my shower!" Lovino yelled before storming back down the hallway.
"You're welcome, you know," Peter said, glancing at Arthur.
"What on Earth do you mean?" the Englishman asked, shocked. "First you call my clothes hideous then you mouth off to my roommate. Why the bloody hell would I thank you for anything?"
"Because I- whoa, what is that horrible smell?" the blond questioned, scrunching up his nose.
"What do you mean?" the Englishman inquired. "I don't smell anything."
"I do." The Sealander sniffed around and saw that the smell was coming in the direction of Arthur's mouth.
"Okay, random question, but what did you have for lunch today?"
"What any respectable Englishman would have: Bangers and Mash with an onion gravy and a side of fried onions."
"I see," Peter said quietly to himself before grinning. "Hey, I have a fun idea! Let's go brush our teeth!" Peter suggested, running past Arthur into the apartment and into the hallway.
"What?" The dirty blond asked, following his date. "Why would we do that?"
"It's a tradition in Sealand. It'll be fun, trust me. Now where's the bathroom? Ah, here it is." He entered the bathroom in which Lovino was currently showering in. "Come on Arthur. Let's get started!"
"What the fuck?" the Italian yelled. "Who's in here? Get out!"
"What? Why? You're showering behind a curtain, I can't even see you!"
"What the bloody hell?!" Arthur cried, appearing in the bathroom doorway. He approached his date slowly and pointed his finger accusingly at him. "First, you ask me what I had for lunch, then rush in my apartment, innocently insisting that we must brush our teeth, only for me to find you trying to take a peek at my roommate showering! I should've known! After all, that is how they get you!"
"Wait," Peter began, puzzled. "What?"
"I mean, that's obviously why you insulted my clothes!" the dirty blond realized, continuing his rant. "It was all part of your little ruse to end up here, in this bathroom, to look at Lovino! Well, I never! If I didn't need you to get back at Alfred, I would kick you out of my apartment so hard on your ass that you couldn't sit down for a week! Let's go!" The Englishman clamped his hand on Peter's arm and tugged him along as he headed towards the front entrance. He opened the door and saw a blond blue-eyed man with his hand in air, as if he was about to knock.
"Hey," the man greeted casually, putting his arm down. "Where's Lovino?"
"Why don't you ask this pervert?" Arthur mocked, motioning towards Peter.
"Hey!" The Sealander tried. "I didn't plan on t-"
"Shut up!" the Englishman ordered, before turning his attention to the man in front of him. "Now if you excuse us, we have a date to get to!" The dirty blond rushed passed the stranger with his date in tow.
So what did you think? Please review!(seriously it's the fuel I need to keep writing) Ta ta for now!
