Lovino sat on his bed, pillows propped against his back and his knees drawn up so he could sketch with his notebook in his lap. He was more tired than he ever remembered being. His first week in school had been intense, his professor had wasted no time in assessing his knowledge level and assigning him to printing sessions with the other students. Aside from that, he was expected to complete 2 new prints a week, a task that was difficult but not unfeasible for a regular student, but with Lovino's already full workload, had become quite taxing.
"You're not just going to sit here and sketch all night are you?" Feliciano whined as he stepped out of the dorm's attached bathroom. "It's Friday, we should have fun!" The younger Italian cheered as he rubbed a towel over his wet locks.
Lovino grimaced at the moist heat coming from the bathroom, and settled his back further into the pillows. The pain from being bent over a press all day had left his shoulders unbearably sore. "I'm too damn tired to go out, plus I have 50 thumbnails to get done by Monday and a new print to make," Lovino glanced up from his work, watching irritated as his brother danced around the room, pulling shirts out of his dresser and holding them in front of his chest before throwing them over his shoulder and choosing a new one. "What are you so excited about, anyway?" He asked sharply, growing irritated at Feliciano's carefree attitude, "dammit, don't you have any work to get done?"
Feliciano shrugged and smiled, "nah, I've finished, I've got a free weekend." He combed his fingers through his hair, sticking his tongue out slightly as he concentrated on avoiding his one errant curl.
"That still doesn't answer my question," Lovino growled, throwing his pencil halfheartedly at his sketchbook and folding his arms over his chest, "you're not planning on going out are you?"
The younger Italian finished messing with his hair and turned to glance at his brother, "Antonio's coming over to watch a movie, remember? I told you about it last night."
Lovino wracked his memory, he vaguely recalled trudging into the dorm a little past midnight and conversing briefly with Feliciano before passing out, still fully clothed and smelling like chemicals. "What did we discuss?" The older brother asked, the details of the previous night's exchange escaping him completely.
"You really don't remember? Ve~ Lovi, you need to get more rest," Feliciano frowned slightly, eyebrows knitting in concern.
"I'm fine," Lovino spat angrily, "not all of us can get our work done so quickly."
Feliciano ignored the comment, if his brother was well enough to be disagreeable then he must be fine. The younger boy turned back to his dresser, searching around for his least wrinkled pair of pants, "well, Antonio invited me to his apartment to watch a movie tonight," he explained as he pulled a pair of khaki slacks from the bottom drawer and shook them out. "But when I told you about it you said I wasn't allowed to go without your supervision."
Lovino watched his brother pull on his pants and try to slap some of the wrinkles from his thighs, "o-oh right," he tried to sound to sound confident, as if his memory of the conversation was returning, but failed miserably.
Feliciano just laughed, studying himself briefly in the mirror before padding over to his brother and sitting down at the foot of his bed. "You really don't remember, do you?" He teased, cocking his head to the side as he laughed lightly.
"Bastard," Lovino mumbled, weakly kicking out a leg in a half-hearted attempt to shoo his brother away. "It's your fault for trying to talk to me when I'm only half awake."
The younger Italian quieted his laughing and stared at his brother, dark smudges of purple lay under each of his half-lidded eyes, standing out in stark contrast to his pale skin. A compassionate look graced the younger Italian's soft features as he leaned forward to rest a hand on his brother's cheek, "you're pushing yourself to hard, Lovi." He whined, pulling his hand back to his chest when he brother swatted it away angrily. "I worry about you."
Lovino scoffed, turning his head to the wall and clenching his mouth into a thin line. "I'm fine bastard, I knew it was going to be hard work. I can handle it." The older Italian hated being fussed over, he supposed his aversion to attention might have been developed as defense mechanism when he realized he tended to play second bill to his brother. Regardless of the reason, he didn't want anyone to think he couldn't handle the work load he had been given. He especially didn't want his brother to think it.
"You know it's ok to ask for help, though, right?" Feliciano pressed. He knew his brother would take on any assignments asked of him without objection, no matter how much he suffered, if it meant proving that he could.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Lovino shrugged his brother off, growing uncomfortable with the conversation. "You still never explained why that Spanish bastard is coming over." He deliberately changed the course of the conversation, not intending to discuss his tribulations any further with his aloof sibling.
"Oh!" Feliciano chirped, suddenly remembering what he was doing and jumping up from Lovino's bed to start tidying the room. "You said I couldn't go to his apartment without you and that you were too tired to go over with me, so we decided he would come watch a movie with us here instead!" Feliciano said simply, not leaving any room for argument.
Lovino growled in defeat, he had so much work to get done, but he couldn't help but feel a little surge of anticipation when he realized he would soon be seeing that Spaniard idiot again. He wasn't entirely sure why he felt it, but he assumed it had something to do with wanting the opportunity to tell the man off for offering up his phone number to his little brother. When he was certain Feliciano was too busy adjusting the picture frames on his desk to see him do it, Lovino craned his neck to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror over the door . The face in the mirror frowned at him, his hair was greasy and stuck out in weird clumps around his ears and his pale complexion had turned even more ghostly from exhaustion. 'Since when have I become so vain?' He berated himself between thinking up excuses for taking a shower before Antonio arrived. Lovino patted his hair down roughly and slumped back into his pillows, crossing his arms in protest to his mind's defiant behavior.
After a few minutes of watching his brother adjust every slightly askew detail of the room and trying not to contemplate his own frenzied feelings at the idea of Antonio coming over, Lovino picked up his discarded sketchbook, settling it into his legs and returning to his thumbnails. The older Italian became immediately absorbed in his work, not noticing when a gentle knock sounded at the door and Feliciano happily bounced through the small dorm to answer it. "Ve~ Toni, it's good to see you again!" The younger brother smiled, pulling the door completely open in an invitation for the Spaniard to enter.
"Ah, this brings back memories," Antonio laughed as he stepped into the room, glancing around at the tight quarters.
"You used to live in a dorm, too?" Feliciano chirped, happy to have a more energetic person to converse with than his ill-tempered brother.
"Mm," Antonio nodded lightly, "first years are always made to live in the dorms, to help us build camaraderie as a class they say, although I always swore it was just so we were close enough to do their bidding at the drop of a hat!" The Spaniard laughed, glancing down when he heard a soft "hmph" of agreement sound from the bed closest to the door.
"Hi, Lovino," Antonio laughed, raising his hand to give a small wave, "how are you doing these days."
Lovino peered over his knees, secretly pleased that his presence had finally been acknowledged. "Brother's been really busy," Feliciano jumped in, grabbing Antonio's arm and pushing him down onto the squat loveseat he had pulled in front of the tv.
Antonio glanced over his shoulder at the older Italian as Feliciano fiddled with the television's settings. "Francis told me the students here on assistantships rarely make it through the end, apparently the professors here are real slave drivers." He laughed, throwing the boy a sympathetic smile.
"I can handle it," Lovino grumbled simply, not bothering to look up from his sketching. Antonio watched the boy quietly for a minute, studying the way he bit his lip in concentration as he deftly moved his pencil around the page.
"Ve~ brother will never admit that it's hard," Feliciano frowned slightly as he finished with the tv and turned to look at his brother. "You should take a break and join us, Lovi!" He pleaded, frowning deeper when his brother simply ignored him. Giving up with a sigh, Feliciano dropped into the loveseat next to Antonio, "what kind of movie do you want to watch?" He asked, brightness returning to his face.
Lovino tried to tune the other two out as he diligently worked. He had refused to let them turn the light off, saying that the glow of the television wasn't enough to draw by, but in truth he just wanted to be able to keep a close watch on them. Antonio had picked a zombie movie, and he was sure it was in an attempt to scare his brother and send him crying into his arms. Lovino felt himself grow more and more irritated every time a scary scene made his brother wrap his arms around the Spaniard's shoulders, and he couldn't help but observe the occasional sideways glances Antonio gave to the younger Italian. Lovino's thumbnails were eventually completely forgotten as he stared fixated at the pair in front of him, his heart pounding rapidly in his chest at their every interaction.
"I'm hungry," Feliciano whined when the credits of the movie started to roll.
"Ah, I'm not sure if anything's going to be open at this hour," Antonio stretched his arms behind his back, happy to be able to move after being suffocated by the younger Italian's frightened grip.
"It's ok," Feliciano grinned, "there's a vending machine downstairs, I'll go get us a bag of popcorn." He started to slip on his shoes, grabbing his wallet off his desk and shoving it into his pocket.
"Do you want me to join?" Antonio asked, standing up from his seat to watch the boy bustle around.
"No, it's ok, I'll just be a minute. Pick out another movie while I'm gone," Feliciano instructed, heading over to the door and looking over his shoulder as he exited the dorm, "ve~ but not a scary one, ok?"
"Ok," Antonio laughed as the door slowly closed behind the exiting Italian.
Lovino felt himself tensing, he was alone with that bastard Spaniard, he was going to kill his brother later that night. He glared at his sketchbook, concentrating only on his breathing and the light sound of lead on paper. "What's so important that you couldn't take a break to watch a movie?" A light voice sounded through the room, it's owner leaning his head down to peer over the older Italian's work.
Lovino slapped his sketchbook to his chest, "it's none of your business," he snapped indignantly.
Antonio straightened back up and laughed, "aw, come on Lovi," he started.
"Don't call me that bastard!" Lovino growled, resting his book back on his legs when the Spaniard was no longer trying to look over it.
"But your brother calls you Lovi," Antonio pouted.
"My brother's an idiot," Lovino replied simply, eyes fixed on his drawings.
Antonio sighed and cocked his head at the tense boy. He couldn't understand how one brother could be so light-hearted and friendly while the other was so obstinate and ill-tempered. Without thinking, Antonio lunged forward, plucking the sketchbook away from it's stunned owner and quickly darting across the room to pour over it's contents.
Lovino gasped and stared with wide-eyes at the man now flipping through his sketches. After what seemed like an eternity, his body finally caught up with his coursing mind and he jumped from his bed to run across the room, "give it back you bastard!" He yelled, grabbing the edge of the book and tugging. Antonio easily pulled the document from the Italian's hands, holding it high over his head and well out of the younger boy's reach. The Spaniard ignored the pounding of fists on his chest as he studied the drawings over his head. "These are really good." He said after a few minutes, lowering the sketchbook back down and offering it back to it's owner.
"Yeah, whatever," Lovino spat, ripping the book from Antonio's grasp and holding it tightly to his chest.
"No really, you're extremely talented," he continued earnestly, watching as the Italian reached a hand up to massage his shoulder. "Honestly, I'm-I'm a little surprised."
"What!" Lovino threw his head up to stare the Spaniard in the eyes, wincing at the pain that radiated through his tense back from the sudden movement.
Antonio studied the tense boy's hurt expression for a moment before hesitantly putting a hand on his shoulder and gently turning his body around. Lovino was too stunned to protest the forced movement and let out a soft groan of pain when he felt the older man start to knead the tight muscles beneath his neck. "It's just that, I've heard a lot of people talking about how great Feliciano's art is," Antonio explained, noting the way tremors coursed through the Italian's tight back as his hands deftly loosened the knots around his shoulders. "I haven't heard anyone mention your talent, so I assumed they just let you in out of pity."
Lovino scoffed but didn't make an effort to move from the man's touch, "That would be stupid on their part," he growled. He realized he should be more offended, but he was honestly used to people thinking those sorts of things about him. "Anyway, I don't care about art as much as Feliciano does, I'm just here to protect him."
"Protect him?" Antonio questioned, moving his hands down the tense boy's spine.
"From perverts." Lovino clarified.
Antonio laughed and Lovino felt a slight blush mar his cheeks from the soft breath on his neck. Silence settled in the room for a few seconds before Antonio finally replied, "you do seem to care about art, though, Lovi."
"I said not to call me that, Bastard!" Lovino whipped his head around to stare angrily at the Spaniard, only to drop his sketchbok when a sharp pain jolted through his back. "Dammit," he cursed through clenched teeth, throwing a hand onto the wall to steady himself as the searing pain slowly dulled into a manageable throbbing.
"Careful," Antonio cooed, instinctively raising a hand to pet the Italian's cheek. Lovino swatted the touch away bitterly, grunting as he tried to lower himself to pick the fallen sketchbook.
"Let me," Antonio said, brushing past the Italian's head as he bent over to fetch the lost item. Lovino caught a faint scent of shampoo when the Spaniard's wavy tendrils passed inches before his face. His cheeks inflamed from the close contact and he felt his knees wobble precariously when he glanced down at the bent over man and caught sight of his well toned assets.
"Lovi?" Antonio knit his eyebrows in concern as he held the sketchbook out to the dazed Italian. Lovino's heart was racing in his ears and he could only shake his head slightly before his body started to slump forward. "Hey, hey, it's ok," Antonio consoled, tossing the forgotten book on the nearest desk and easily lifting the light Italian into his arms.
'No, it's not ok, it's not,' Lovino's mind raced, he knew he was tired but this was ridiculous. Why did his body keep betraying him in the presence of this stupid man?
Antonio lowered the boy into his bed, carefully combing his hands through the Italian's bangs before letting his palm settle on his forehead. "You don't have a fever," he said thoughtfully, walking into the bathroom to search for a cup, "you've probably just exhausted yourself."
Lovino concentrated on his breathing, willing his heart to stop its racing pace. When he felt more collected, he pushed himself up, scooting to the edge of the bed and letting his legs rest over the side. "Ah, you should probably lay down," Antonio scolded when he walked back into the room, a glass of water in his hand. "Here," he said, pushing the cup into the boy's grip and sitting on the bed next to him. Lovino took a few sips, trying desperately to ignore the stare he knew the Spaniard was giving him.
"Feeling better?" Antonio asked when Lovino lowered the glass from his lips and sighed. The Italian nodded slightly and set the cup on the nightstand.
"Th-thanks," he ground out, his gratitude muffled by the noise of his brother finally returning from his escapade.
"Sorry I took so long, I got caught up in a conversation w-" Feliciano stopped, frowning slightly at the sight of his brother when he fully entered the room. "Ve~ is everything ok?" He asked hesitantly, tossing the bag of popcorn onto the loveseat and kneeling down in front of his brother.
"I'm fine," Lovino growled, growing irritated from the attention.
"He almost passed out," Antonio interjected, earning an angry glare from the older Italian.
"Brother, I told you you were pushing yourself too much!" Feliciano cried, growing increasingly upset.
"I said I'm fine!" Lovino snapped, "I don't need to be babied."
Antonio gazed curiously at the fuming boy, "you need sleep." He said simply.
Feliciano looked up at the Spaniard and then back to his brother, "he's right, ve~ Lovino you must be exhausted!"
"If I go to sleep will it shut you both up?" Lovino shouted, desperately wanting the topic to be dropped.
"Of course!" Feliciano smiled, pleased with his victory.
Antonio nodded and stood up, "guess I should be going then," he said, stretching his arms over his head and yawning deeply. "I'm beat, anyway."
Feliciano straightened back up and walked over to the door, "thanks for coming over," he smiled, hugging the older man before holding the door open for him.
Antonio grinned, "of course, I'll come any time I'm invited." He leveled a stare at Lovino, "take care, Lovi." The older Italian scowled at the nickname, "don't push yourself too hard," Antonio added, waving as he exited the dorm.
"Are you sure you're ok?" Feliciano asked, turning his attention back to his brother when the door clicked into place.
"Of course, I'm just tired, so turn off that damned overhead." Lovino grumbled, standing up from his bed to throw the quilt back before settling back into his pillows and pulling his covers up to his chin.
Feliciano sighed and complied with his brother's wishes, flicking the light off and casting the room in darkness. Lovino listened to his brother shuffle into his own bed, ticking off the minutes in his head until he heard the younger Italian's light snoring. Lovino relaxed into his mattress and drew a hand up to his head, letting his fingers comb through his greasy hair. He couldn't get that damn Spaniard out of his head, the way his hair bounced slightly when he laughed, the way the skin under his eyes crinkled slightly when he smiled and the tender yet strong timbre of his voice. He hated the man, he was sure. The way he hung over his brother as if he were a prize to be collected was nauseating. Yet, Lovino couldn't help but want to be near him, if just to see his face and hear him speak.
Lovino's heart pounded against his chest and his stomach flipped painfully as realization sunk in. He expected this kind of thing from his brother, but he thought he was above such stupidity. He was falling in love with that damn Spaniard.