Sunday, 11:23 AM Lovino: Chantana's
Sunday, 11:26 AM Antonio: Isn't that East Indian food? Way too spicy for me
Sunday, 11:27 AM Lovino: I like spicy.
Sunday, 11:27 AM Antonio: I bet you do :P
Sunday, 11:30 AM Lovino: You're Spanish. Don't even try to tell me you don't like spicy.
Sunday, 11:31 AM Lovino: Or... is it that you can't handle it? If so, I understand. It's not for the faint of tongued.
Sunday, 11:34 AM Antonio: It's not my fault, I was born over here. Only my parents were born in Spain
Sunday, 11:35 AM Antonio: How about Japanese?
Sunday, 11:36 AM Lovino: I'm not eating raw fish.
Sunday, 11:39 AM Antonio: Not all Japanese food dis raw fish!
Sunday, 11:40 AM Antonio: I didn't picture you as a foodist.
Sunday, 11:42 AM Lovino: You're too fucking lame to be real.
Sunday, 11:43 AM Lovino: What about Thai.
Sunday, 11:52 AM Antonio: That's still spicy!
Sunday, 12:01 PM Lovino: You are so picky! Not all Thai is spicy! Fine, how about The Grill? Good steak.
Sunday, 12:06 PM Antonio: Alright. I've never been there before.
Sunday, 12:21 PM Lovino: Such a fucking baby. Glad you've decided on the tamest possible thing.
Sunday, 12:23 PM Antonio: Ur the one who suggested it. So meet there at 7?
Sunday, 12:29 PM Lovino: I'll be there. Now stop talking. I have a meeting to conduct.
Antonio made sure to wear his best clothes, a dark green button up shirt and dark wash jeans. This may not be labeled a date, but the didn't mean he couldn't dress up for it.
Once he made it to the restaurant, he saw Lovino waiting outside the door. It seemed Antonio hadn't been the only one with the thought to dress up. Well. Either that, or Lovino had come straight from work to the restaurant. The Italian looked quite sharp in his finely tailored grey suit and pants, tapping away at something or other on his phone. He looked up when Antonio came to stand directly in front of him, his face a careful mask of expectant boredom. "Didn't want to risk being fashionably early, did you?" he said in a dry tone.
"Don't want to seem too eager. Besides, this isn't a date so it doesn't matter, right?" He smiled and held the door open for Lovino, following him inside.
The Italian secured them both a fine table with a flirty little wink to the hostess, who batted her dark eyes at him and brought them to a quiet little spot in the corner of the restaurant. Lovino immediately ordered wine and water after a quick glance at the menu and pushed it over toward Antonio.
"I'll just have a water please," Antonio said and put the drink menu down. "You shouldn't drink much either. Don't want the same thing happening as last time." He smiled at him from over the menu.
"I'm not going to drink a whole bottle," he replied tersely, "you cheeky fuck." Lovino gazed over the menu in his hand thoughtfully. "So, my week has been boring as shit. You'd better have some clever anecdote to share, or there's no use for you after all."
Antonio thought back to his week and smiled as he remembered something. He knew Lovino would like it. "Alright. Well, on Tuesday, most of us were in the kennels with the dogs, and Ludwig was in one with some puppies, and two older dogs, cleaning up. And, one of the puppies started climbing on his back, which happens sometimes. But it was a really small puppy, and he didn't want him to fall off, so he didn't just stand up, and then another puppy climbed up, and another, and then one of the big dogs climbed on his back, and soon he fell over because all the dogs were climbing on him." Antonio snorted at the memory, because Ludwig had been so awkward about the whole thing, with everyone seeing.
Lovino blinked for a moment before, almost unbidden, a little grin grew on his face and he snickered, leaning back in his seat. "Of course that bastard would be compromised by a bunch of puppies. Did you take pictures?"
"Sorry, didn't have my phone with me." Antonio grinned, glad that he could make Lovino smile. "But I'll make sure to carry it from now on, in case a puppy pees on him or something." He liked Ludwig well enough, but the man was so uptight, it was fun seeing him in compromising positions.
"Hmm." A little smile remained on Lovino's face as the waitress returned with a bottle and three glasses.
Antonio took his glass of water, and realized they hadn't even glanced at the dinner menu. "If we could have another minute?" The waitress nodded and left, so he opened the menu. "I'm kind of jealous, Lovi. You always give such nice smiles to the pretty girls, but not me."
The young man in the expensive suit across the table rolled his eyes and turned his menu over to the back. "Turn into a pretty girl, and maybe we'll talk," he said with a little glance toward the woman walking away.
"But it's strange. My gaydar is rarely wrong, so why do you flirt with girls so much?" Because there was absolutely no way that Lovino was straight. Possibly a little bi, but that was it.
Lovino glanced at him a little sharply. Then, almost smiling, he said, "If you ever met my grandfather, you would understand. It's as much business as it is pleasure. Flirting, I mean. After a while, it becomes second nature. And besides." He cocked his head just slightly to the side and smirked. "It's so much easier to smile at pretty girls. They're not the ones out to kill or fuck you over. Usually."
Antonio laughed at that. "They can surprise you. Ever give one your heart, and they can be the worst thing on this planet." He took a sip of his water, winking at Lovino. "That's why I lean more towards guys. At least they're usually honest."
"Or stupid," Lovino countered, sipping at the vintage brew. "That's my problem. I only attract idiots and assholes. Fuck 'em. Fuck all of them. I'll just get a cat or something."
"I take offense to that! I'm not an asshole, and I would say I'm fairly smart." Antonio said with a smirk.
"And I'm very pointedly not dating you," Lovino said, his lips curling up in return. "You're a category all your own. The appallingly persistent."
Another smirk. "You didn't say anything about dating, you said you attract idiots and assholes. I'm very attracted to you, but am neither an asshole or an idiot. So." He looked down at the menu, deciding to just get the steak combo.
When the waitress returned, she turned to Lovino first and, almost as if in challenge, he gave her a dazzling smile. His voice was rich and warm when he ordered, and in handing the menu to her, Antonio could have sworn that Lovino's long fingers brushed hers. Her apple-red cheeks attested to much of the same, and when she turned to Antonio, Lovino's flirtatious sweetness folded into a smirk positively bubbling with sadistic mirth.
Well, two could play at that game. Antonio gave her a sideways look, and his smile was small, almost secretive. "Yes, I'll have the... sorry, miss, what's your name? I have a thing for names, you see."
She giggled a little, obviously flustered to have two attractive men flirting so openly with her. "It's Angela."
"Angela, beautiful name. Greek, meaning messenger of God, I believe. Well, Angela, my name is Antonio. I'll have the steak combo, please, medium well." And he handed her his menu with a small wink.
Lovino's eyes are positively alight with some intense, golden fire, and before she could escape, Lovino reached out to gently grab her wrist. With the slightest hint of an accent (cheating little devil) he said, nearly sheepish, "Sorry, could I maybe trouble you for the wine menu again? I wanted to try this, but," and with that he wrinkled his nose just enough to be adorable, and then grinned amicably, "it's a little too bitter for me. You know?"
She nodded, that little blush still on her face. "Oh, right. I usually find wine really bitter myself." She left after that, and Antonio didn't want to scare her off by trying to one-up Lovino. At least not until she returned.
The Spaniard giggled a little. "What do you think she would do if she knew we both liked men?"
"She might feel a bit affronted," Lovino said, sipping contentedly at his "too-bitter" wine. "People don't seem to like it when advances toward them are made in jest. Or so I'm told." He chuckled. "You're pretty good for a fag, though."
"You're not so bad yourself." Antonio leaned back in his chair, looking across the table at his companion. "Besides, I'm only bi. Sometimes I go for girls. Mostly just for sex though, anything more then that, and well, like I said, pretty girls can do horrible things with your heart."
"I wouldn't pin you for the quick-fuck type," Lovino said. "Contrary to all you've tried to get into my pants, of course. You just seem pretty fucking dogged. Dedicated, if we're using nice words." He circled the rim of the wine glass with his forefinger. "Attached. It's hard to imagine you as a quick fuck without strings attached. You're not like some of us."
He shrugged at that. "I'm more of the friends with benefits type, normally. I won't lie, I'm a hopeless romantic, but I'm careful about who I chose to get attached to. Got my heart broken too much as a teenager, and now I know better than to give it to everyone I have sex with."
"Yeah." Lovino glanced out the window without any further elaboration and propped his chin in his hand.
The waitress returned with a wine menu for Lovino and he ordered a second glass of a brand that Antonio had never heard of before and sent the girl off with a wink.
Antonio held his hands up when she left and laughed. "Alright, I give up. You're obviously the better flirt." Well, mostly he didn't like to see Lovino go the extra mile to flirt with her when he was right there. "I'm sure you two will be very happy together."
"As long as she brings my pasta soon, we surely will," he said with a grave little nod. "Anything they make here with sun-dried tomatoes is guaranteed to be fucking stellar. Shit, I'm drooling just thinking about it."
Lovino had another glass of wine before their food came, and Antonio was already thinking he would have to walk him home again. Although, this time he wouldn't stay the night. He had to at least pretend he went along with this whole 'not-date' thing. To his disappointment, though, Lovino seemed to catch himself, and he stopped ordering further glasses, contenting himself with a glass of water. His cheeks and nose remained ever so slightly flushed, at least.
They were about half way through their food, when Antonio moved to cross his leg, and accidentally kicked Lovino's foot. The Italian looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and Antonio held his hands up in surrender. "I swear I wasn't trying to play footsie or anything."
"The fuck ever," he mumbled in reply around a mouthful of ragu, and then, quite to Antonio's surprise, a swift little kick was returned to his calf.
Now it was his turn to look pointedly across the table. Antonio kicked back, not about to let Lovino best him. Then he quickly moved his legs so the smaller brunet had to search around a bit to kick him again.
An adorable look of concentration morphed on Lovino's face as he kicked around the little area under the table, and when he finally found Antonio's legs, a triumphant grin lit up the stony features.
Their kicks grew in strength, until they almost knocked over the glasses on the table. A waiter walked by and gave them a disconcerting look, and they both stopped, little guilty smirks on their faces.
"I'm buzzed," Lovino said, glaring pointedly at the Spaniard. "And that's the only reason I didn't win. So by default, I did."
"That's not how that works. It's your own fault that you're drunk, so I won. And besides, you started it." Antonio gave him a defiant look, taking a bite of his cooling steak. He probably could have made a better one, but it was very doubtful that Lovino would agree to go to his house.
Those expressive eyes across the table widened and an indignant splutter followed close after. "I started it? You kicked me first!"
"That was an accident, though. You did the first intentional kick, so you started it." Antonio explained easily, his grin widening. One thing was for sure, he wasn't ever bored with Lovino.
"How am I supposed to take your word for it?" the Italian asked, twirling the pasta on his dish around the fork between his fingers. "You could have started it knowing I wouldn't be able to resist a challenge, you cunning bastard."
Antonio smirked at that. "Do you really think I'm that smart?"
Lovino regarded him closely, and Antonio knew that that calculating gaze moving slowly over him could either mean nothing good or something very, very good. Then a smirk quirked at Lovino's lips and he took a bite of the pasta. "Nope."
It was amazing how quickly the minutes ticked by, and soon they were both done their meals and too full for dessert. They went up front to pay, and Lovino had almost grabbed Antonio's bill, but the Spaniard said that if he did that it would be a date. There was a bit of a line up at the till, so they both waited.
Opening the billfold, Lovino made to glance down at the ticket when a little strip of paper fluttered down from Antonio's half of the black fold. He bent to pick it up, and upon straightening, he blinked. And then he snorted, handing it over. "This is yours, I think."
He looked at it, and saw 7 digits. Antonio smiled. "Aw, that's so cute, she gave me her number. Well, I guess that means that I win biggest flirt, then?" Or, maybe it was the fact that he had stopped flirting with her after that. Either way, he put it in his pocket. He didn't want to throw it away and have her find it, hurting her feelings, so he would throw it away at home or something.
Lovino's eyes followed the movement and cleared his throat as they stepped forward in line. "Messengers of God are your type, then?" he asked, glancing aimlessly up at the ceiling.
He snorted, figuring they were just kidding around as usual. "Oh yeah, I'm kinky like that." He was next in line, but before he could get to the front to pay, a man bumped into him and went in front.
"I've been waiting here for half a fucking hour! Now get us a table already!" he growled at the hostess on duty, who started to apologize. A lady, whose belly was swollen and obviously with child, stepped up to him, trying to calm him down. "Shut up, Mary. Go sit down," he said harshly, grabbing her by the arm and pushing her towards a chair.
She stumbled back and laid a hand over her stomach, her expression one of fretful worry. Lovino's shoulders tensed as they both turned to look. "Hey, fuckass," he said, and the tall man turned, his brows drawn up.
"Are you talking to me?"
"If you'll excuse us, maybe we can pay and things can move along so you can get your damn table," Lovino said impatiently, glaring upward. Both Antonio and the pregnant woman stepped forward then, and when the confrontational man took an intimidating step toward the Italian, Lovino breezed past him and placed his bill on the counter, as well as the money he had in his hand.
But before he could ask the distracted hostess for his change, the man crowded up to him. "Or you could mind your own damn business." He walked forward, pointing an accusing finger at Lovino. "You shouldn't stick your nose where it doesn't belong. Someone might cut it off."
The woman bit her lip and grabbed his arm. "Why don't we just go somewhere else..."
He violently threw his arm back, shaking off her hand, and she stumbled backwards, arms curling protectively around her stomach. The crowded entryway where people stood and stared like spectators at a zoo froze, and Antonio moved quickly, steadying her before she could fall. He tensed as the rough sound of flesh on flesh erupted behind him and Antonio turned swiftly, ready to attack, only to stare in amazement as the big creep reeled back against the front podium from Lovino's blow. The hostess squeaked and jumped back as it wobbled dangerously, and the brute cradled his jaw, eyeing Lovino with a greater surprise than Antonio. For his part, Lovino rubbed his fist achingly, his teeth clenched.
"You little piece of shit!" the man growled, trying to punch Lovino back, but the small Italian had obviously been in fights before and was adept at dodging the punches. Antonio, once the pregnant lady was steady on her feet and further back in the sea of people, tried to help, but the confusion in the crowd was difficult to get through.
"Lovino!" he shouted, but it was like he wasn't even heard.
Someone called for the security guard, and Antonio sighed in relief as an even bigger guy in a black shirt came in. The crowd parted for him, and he pulled the two of them apart. "If you're gonna fight, do it outside." He propelled both men to the door, and then, contrary to his words, stood there until it looked like they wouldn't fight back.
Antonio looked back at the counter, where Lovino's money was. That would be enough for both of their meals, and he could pay him back after, so he quickly ran out the door, not wanting Lovino to be alone with that guy. Lovino did not seem ready to back down, though Antonio had curled a hand around his wrist and attempted to pull him off in another direction. "Treat a mother with some fucking respect, you filthy pig," he spat. With the blatant, raw emotion in his voice, Antonio could hear the slightest hint of an accent creeping through.
The man was rubbing his jaw, and held out his middle finger. "Fuck you." He spat.
Antonio grabbed Lovino's shoulders firmly, turning him around. "Come on, we're going." They didn't need any more trouble that night. Thankfully, with one last look to the man, Lovino turned around and started walking away.
"Fucking coward prick," Lovino snarled under his breath, his body practically vibrating with fury. After a time, the words streaming from his mouth took on a more obvious rolling Italian sharpness and Antonio could no longer understand what he was saying. Absentmindedly, Lovino brought a bleeding knuckle to his mouth and began to suck on it.
Antonio quickly grabbed the hand, looking at where the skin had split open. By the looks of it, he had gotten in more than the one hit. "Look, I'm not saying that that bastard didn't deserve it, but you can't just go around punching guys bigger than you."
"The fuck I can't," Lovino said, hissing at what must have been a very sharp stinging pain. They stopped in the doorway of a small cafe and Lovino's face twisted in a grimace as the adrenaline began to fade and the pain came on strong. He flinched when Antonio gently prodded the bruised knuckles around the split skin.
"Well what if the next guy is a better fighter? If this guy had landed a hit, you would have been done for." He let go of the hand for now. "Don't lick it, there are tons of germs in the human mouth. But nothing is broken. Do you have disinfectant at your house? Bandages? Anything like that?"
"Of course I do," Lovino growled, holding his hand protectively against his chest. He stalked in the direction of his home along the sidewalk, lit up by streetlamps and shop windows. "It doesn't matter if there's another fucking guy, or if he gets a hit. It was the only way to get his fucking attention, and nobody else was doing a thing to stop him. Bunch of sick fuck spectators." He spat. "Where was that fuckass guard then?"
Antonio rolled his eyes. If he thought Lovino had a mouth on him before... "He was at the door. Probably didn't know what was happening until all the commotion with the fight." There was silence for a minute, and then the Spaniard smiled. "I never knew you were the hero type, though. Gotta admit, it's kinda hot."
"I will skin your fucking hide," Lovino all but snarled, shoving Antonio with his good hand.
When they reached his place, Lovino fumbled awkwardly with his house key, as his dominant hand was out of commission, and pushed his way in, headed straight for the bathroom. Antonio followed him in, raising an eyebrow when Lovino glared at him for it and opened his mouth to protest. "Hey, chill, alright? I'm not the guy you had a fight with. And besides, how do you plan on wrapping your own hand?"
"Fairly well," he grumbled, digging around under the sink to procure a bottle of antiseptic and a roll of gauze and tape. "With practice."
"Right." Antonio grabbed them from him and rolled his eyes. "Luckily for you, I've taken a first aid course. Now sit down and don't argue."
The sullen Italian glared for a long moment before finally, he planted his ass on the bathroom counter, glaring sulkily at the shower as Antonio took his hand and ran it under the cold water tap.
He dried it off and applied the antiseptic. As he was wrapping his hand, he looked up at Lovino, who was pointedly not looking back at him. Antonio smiled at that. When he finished putting the bandage on, he leaned forward and kissed the back of Lovino's hand.
Bristling, Lovino jerked his hand away and glared at the grinning Spaniard. "What the hell-"
"It's not a date, so I only kissed your hand." Antonio said with a bright smile.
Lovino kicked at him halfheartedly, an easily dodged attack, and to Antonio's surprise his face was relaxed. Not smiling, but comfortable.
So Antonio stood up from his crouched position, and put his hands on the counter on either side of Lovino's legs. "Unless you want me to kiss you on the lips?" he said, only half joking. With Lovino's mood changes, it was hard to tell how he would react sometimes.
"It wasn't a date," the Italian replied coolly, staring him boldly in the eye. "So you can't."
He chuckled, leaning just a little bit closer. "Well, because of your fight, you did end up paying for the whole thing. So, technically, until I pay you back, it was a date." Besides, Antonio considered it a date anyway. Their second date, as a matter of fact.
"It wasn't a date," Lovino growled softly, his eyes following Antonio carefully as the Spaniard neared. He was so close that Lovino's breath, warm with wine and tomatoes and oregano, drifted over his mouth. He was so close, close enough that if he was in the mood to tease, his nose could have bumped right up against Lovino's, and actually, he was just a bit interested in the face Lovino might make if he did. But something guarded and hot in those eyes told him that it was not the time, and if he did, the spell would be broken.
"It sure felt like a date..." Antonio whispered, his green eyes half closed. Lovino wasn't pulling away, but he wasn't moving forward either. So the Spaniard took the responsibility in his own hands, leaning forward, and lightly pressed their lips together. Lovino did not move, but he wasn't uncomfortably tense, so Antonio stroked the Italian's wrists with his thumbs and pressed another kiss to his mouth, soft and gentle, and ever so slightly, Lovino's lips parted and he offered a kiss in return. Antonio smiled into the kiss, and slowly eased Lovino's mouth open some more. He licked the soft lips, and he was just about to press in closer, when Lovino released his mouth and his hands slipped from Antonio's, moving to the Spaniard's chest. Gently but insistently, he pushed. "No. We're just fucking friends."
The Spaniard opened his eyes. "Fuck friends?"
Surprisingly, Lovino just snorted and pushed him back. "You're a persistent bastard. No. We're just friends, remember? So back up and go make some coffee or something. I'm going to shower."
Antonio sighed and scratched the back of his head as he left the bathroom. "You don't know what you're missing. I'm a mediocre friend, but I'm an amazing lover." Well, at least he wasn't going to be kicked out of the house. Maybe he could sleep on a couch or something.
Unfortunately, when Lovino came from the shower, he was not as naked as Antonio had allowed himself to hope. Though he had to speculate if Lovino even owned pajamas- the man was dressed in a polo and old, pleasantly tight jeans. It seemed to be as casual as he got while clothed.
He held out a mug of black coffee. "Here you go, your highness. Will there be anything else?"
Lovino sniffed and gave Antonio the eye. "You make halfway decent coffee, I'll give you that," he mumbled around the rim of his mug, sipping delicately.
"So how's your hand? Does it still hurt?" Antonio looked at the bandage, it looked like Lovino had wrapped it in something before going in the shower so it wouldn't get wet.
"Of course it does," he said, resting a hip against the counter. "That bastard had a hard fucking face. I should have used my left hand. It's going to be a bitch trying to work with this."
Antonio smiled as he sipped his coffee. "At least you didn't break anything. I'm sure it'll be all better after tomorrow. Just don't pick at the scabs." There was no reason that he should scar his pretty little hands.
"I've been in fights before," Lovino said with a roll of his eyes. "I know the damn etiquette. Shut up and drink your coffee. Pretentious bastard..."
He sipped more of the dark liquid. "So, why are we drinking coffee so late? Unless it was just an excuse to keep me here longer."
"Oh, that must be it," the Italian said with a little smirk and set the mug down. He shrugged his shoulders. "I have work to do, so I need the energy. And our not-date was cut short. If I don't keep you around for a bit, you'll come up with some punk-ass excuse to nag at me until we do something else some other time this week. This way you can be satisfied and not bother me later. See? I'm one thoughtful son of a bitch."
Antonio grinned, swirling his coffee around. "It's funny you think that I won't bother you. You seemed to like our texts, after all."
"I do not!" he denied vehemently, sticking his nose skyward. "It's obnoxious and distracts me from my work."
"Then why do you keep texting back?" Antonio took the last gulp of his coffee and put the mug in the dishwasher. It was amazing how quickly he had become comfortable with this house.
"Because I'm polite as shit," he said simply, eyeing the Spaniard thoughtfully. "Can't say the same for you. You barely calm your fucking ass down when I ask you to, and you can't seem to take a hint. Were you dropped on your head as an infant?"
Antonio chuckled at that. "Maybe I was, but I made up for it by being the cutest baby in the world. I'll show you a picture some time. I could even work a diaper."
He gestured thoughtfully to his lower half and glanced up at Lovino, who looked for all the world like a man about to break in half for the laughter he was holding in. Lovino met Antonio's eyes, and he could not seem to help himself. The Italian had to place his mug down on the counter top, as it was nearly upended from the raucous laughter that shook his entire body.
"You're so fucking weird," he accused, wiping a tear from his eye and shaking his head once the peals had receded.
"Anything to make you laugh, babe." Antonio grinned and watched Lovino laugh, disappointed as he slowly calmed down. But there was still a smile playing across his lips, which was a rare treat.
Lovino jumped slightly as his phone went off and awkwardly, he pulled it out and began fiddling with it in his left hand. He went quiet for a moment, and it was only when he realized that Antonio was watching him type that he piped up. "I have movies and music or whatever by the TV if you want to go find something to do."
But the brunet just shook his head. "I think that watching you is much more entertaining." It was interesting that Lovino seemed to want to keep him there. He would have thought that as soon as he was no longer needed the Italian would be pushing him out the door.
Lovino rolled his eyes, just as predicted, and turned his back on Antonio. "Pick a damn movie," he said over his shoulder.
He sighed and went to the TV. There were a lot of DVDs, typical things any man would own. Most were action, with many cars and explosions and guns. Strangely, he saw a few documentaries. One was on weapons, one was on the Mafia, Antonio snorted on the one about wine. Definitely wouldn't want to watch that. There were a few movies that he had never even heard of before. Well, they would be good as any.
That was... strange. It looked like Lovino had mixed up the cases, because on the DVD it said Moonstruck. Wait, wasn't that like a chick flick? Antonio lifted an eyebrow and looked up at all the cases. He couldn't see this one anywhere... did that mean that it was hidden on purpose? Could that mean... Oh god, did Lovino have a bunch of chick flicks hidden in other cases?
Within five minutes, Antonio had looked in almost every single case. Most of them were just what they said they were, but a good ten percent of them were definitely girly movies. Gone With the Wind, When Harry Met Sally, Sleepless in Seattle, and the whole Titanic set. There also appeared to be a few that were in Italian, but still looked pretty girly.
"What are y- Antonio! What the fuck!" Lovino stood, bright red and rigid in the doorway, his ears bright red. "You couldn't just pick a damn movie, no, you had to keep... looking!"
He chuckled, picking up the Titanic. "Not my fault, the first one I picked turned out to be a chick flick. And then I got curious. I can't believe you watch this stuff! It's so cute!" Not to mention, with the Titanic being so long which, if he played his cards right, meant that he could stay with Lovino for hours.
"It's... it's not cute, I just have a wide range of tastes, is all." The younger man rubbed the back of his neck and glared at the wall. "And those films are classics, so if you make fun of them, I'll kill you."
"You misunderstand. I'm not making fun of them; I love them! Just wouldn't pick you for a romance buff." Antonio turned the TV on and put the DVD in. "Are you gonna watch it with me?" he asked, patting the couch beside him.
Cautiously, Lovino stalked over and scrutinized Antonio's bemused face for a moment before scoffing and dropping down onto the sofa beside him. "I'm working, too," he said, pulling the phone from his pocket.
Pressing play, he leaned back in the couch. "No problem, as long as I'm not watching it alone." It had been many years since Antonio had seen this movie, so this should be nice.
As the film slowly began to progress, Antonio noticed Lovino mutter things occasionally under his breath, oddly in sync with the film, uttered low in cadence. It was only ten minutes in when he cocked his head to the side and blinked in realization. Lovino was mumbling the film line for line. How many times must he have watched the movie to know the script? The Italian looked up when Antonio began to laugh, his brow furrowed. "What?"
"Tell me, is it the love, or the hundreds of people dying in freezing water that makes you like this movie so much?" He suspected it was a little bit of both, actually. Maybe that was what made the movie so famous, the beauty and horror of it.
"Shut up!" Lovino growled nudging him in the side with his elbow and glaring at the screen. "I just like everything, okay? I like cinematography based on true events. I like a fucking tragedy."
He chuckled at that, looking at Lovino sideways. "And is that why you have Moonstruck?"
"Yeah, well, Steel Magnolias ballances every sweet one out. That shit is heartbreaking. Shut up, stop laughing, watch the fucking movie!"
Still laughing a little, Antonio looked back to the (huge) TV. About half way through the movie, he was regretting picking such a long one. He had woken up fairly early that morning for church - because he was a good Christian gay boy - and had to work in the morning. Really, it couldn't be helped as his eyes began to droop. Kate Winslet was just getting naked when he succumbed to the heavy pull of sleep and slumped over, his head lolling at the back of the couch. Lovino didn't notice that he'd fallen asleep, so attached was he to the incoming data on his phone, until a gentle snore rumbled from Antonio's direction. He turned, a brow quirking in vague amusement.
That amusement quickly dissipated when Antonio's head fell on his shoulder. Lovino frowned down at him, wondering if he should shake him off. It wasn't like he was being very bothersome, and he only snored every once in a while. Plus, if he was sleeping, then he wasn't talking.
Trying to make himself comfortable with the dozing menace on his shoulder, Lovino noticed only too late that his actions had consequences. Antonio's head began to slip, and Lovino scrambled to catch him on the way down. Grumbling lightly to himself, he eased the idiot's head down until he was slumped over Lovino's lap, shoulders and all, and the Italian huffed. "You're a heavy bastard, you know that?" Looking down, he grimaced. Antonio's position, half on, half off the couch with his body contorted like that just seemed awkward and uncomfortable. "Hey," he mumbled, ruffling Antonio's hair. "Hey. Get up or lift your legs, idiot."
The Spaniard made a sleepy sound, and it seemed like he didn't even wake up as he lifted both his legs onto the couch, cuddling up even more in Lovino's lap. The Italian could almost picture him sucking his thumb, laying like he was.
"Stupid baby," he sighed, glancing over to make sure the idiot was situated before he rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck and lifted his phone to continue working long into the night.
As the credits song came on, he looked up to the TV. Well, what was he supposed to do now? Could he somehow get off the couch without waking up the sleeping bastard? Lovino wasn't about to sleep on the couch when his own bed was nice and comfy.
"I'm not sleeping on the couch when my bed is nice and comfy," he reiterated, his voice coming out a bit softer than planned.
Which, of course, did nothing to wake Antonio. He sighed and turned the TV off. And, for some reason, that was what woke him up.
Antonio lifted his head, blinking dreamily. "Wh-what time is it?" Did he really fall asleep on Lovino's lap? And wasn't pushed off? Damn, maybe this was a dream.
"Time for you to take yourself home like a responsible adult," Lovino said, sending one last email off for the night.
He scratched his sleep-messy hair and shook his head. "You're not serious. I'll sleep on the couch, alright?" He pushed himself up so that he was no longer on Lovino, letting him get up. "I'll leave in the morning, I promise, just let me sleep here tonight. Please?" Antonio did his best to give a puppy dog face, but it might not have worked because he was still half asleep.
Giving him a dry glance, Lovino rolled his eyes. "Did you really think I'd kick you out? You've already proved to me that you're a child, so I wouldn't feel right letting you out on your own. Too dangerous." He nodded in the direction of the hall. "There's a guest room. Knock yourself out."
Groaning, Antonio literally rolled off the couch. "Thanks. Any hopes for a goodnight kiss?" He smirked, looking over his shoulder, not even waiting for an answer before he walked to the guest room. Antonio collapsed into the bed that was very neatly made and snuggled under the covers, blinking his eyes open only when Lovino's voice came passing by from the hall outside. "Make a full pot in the morning before you go. And if you wake me up, I'll shave your damn head the next time you fall asleep in my presence."
.oOo.
Antonio woke up fairly early the next morning, and rolled around in the bed for a minute before getting up. It was uncomfortable sleeping in his clothes, but it wasn't like it was the first time. He went out, and made a pot of coffee, hardly even thinking about it.
He considered showering for a moment but ultimately decided against it. He had to go home to change clothes regardless; he might as well bathe there, as well.
When the coffee finished brewing, he got down two mugs. He poured one for himself, but left the other empty. Antonio drank his own, and hoped that Lovino would come down before he finished. When he didn't, the Spaniard opted for the next best thing. He looked for a sticky note, and wrote on it a simple, Good morning! He washed out his mug, and then left for home.
.oOo.
Lovino was not going to give Antonio a key.
It didn't matter how many times a week he ended up coming over, occasionally spending the night, and for how many weeks the pattern had continued. It didn't matter that it made it easier for the idiot to come in first and make dinner so that they didn't have to go out all the time for food (the bastard was ridiculously persistent in wanting quality time- Lovino had to wonder how many other friends Antonio latched onto so fiercely. "Not going to demand your time" his ass). It didn't matter that he had an extra sitting in his bedside drawer from a pair that he'd replicated for Feliciano and when Mama was in town.
And it certainly did not matter that Antonio had brought an extra toothbrush and a few shirts and put them in the spare room. He hadn't asked to or anything, hadn't even told Lovino about it, and Lovino probably wouldn't even have noticed if it wasn't for the fact that once a week he cleaned the attached bathroom meant for Feliciano. But he wouldn't give him a spare key, he just wouldn't.
Except... the one night, when he had been working late, and it had been raining, and he had come home to find Antonio sitting on his doorstep completely soaked... well, maybe he could leave the key in a fake rock or something. It wasn't for Antonio, who knew when someone would need to get into his house when he wasn't there? Feliciano could lose his own key and not realize it until he got there. It wasn't just for Antonio.
He hustled the Spaniard inside and instructed him to stand on the tile in the doorway, ranting and raving all the way to the bathroom and back with a towel that he tossed at Antonio's head. "You could have waited in the cafe down the street!" he barked.
"It's fine, I knew you would be home soon." Antonio said, chuckling as he dried his hair off. His clothes were another matter though, and there was no way Lovino was about to let him any further in the house with wet clothes. And sure enough, the Italian wrinkled his nose at the sopping wet, bedraggled man before him.
"You're fucking hopeless, you know that?" And with a tetchy little click of his tongue, Lovino gestured at him. "Take off your clothes and get in the shower. I'll get these dried. You can wear... I dunno..n. something."
He really should have anticipated the smirk that went on Antonio's face. "Well, if you say so." He pulled his wet shirt over his head, and Lovino's eyes went wide as his chest and stomach was revealed. Damn... if he'd had too many muscles, Lovino could laugh it off, but it was just the right combination of lean and abs. But then Antonio went for his fly as well.
Turning abruptly, Lovino disappeared into the kitchen. "Dump your soggy-ass clothes in the laundry room," he called out, more or less sticking his head into the pantry to keep his eyes away from the hallway.
A few minutes later, the sound of the shower was heard. Lovino sighed in relief and went to go put the clothes in the wash. Damn, that idiot...
All of the ingredients were spread out over the counter-top by the time Antonio waltzed into the kitchen in Lovino's oversized sweatpants and a dark t-shirt. Lovino took one glance at him and snorted. "You couldn't have picked something classy?"
"We're not going out, so what's the point? Besides, most of your stuff doesn't fit me." And he only had shirts and underwear stashed here. Antonio leaned against the counter, looking at everything. "So, what are we making?"
"Pasta. You should still dress to impress, you know," Lovino chided as he pushed a small bowl of fresh tomatoes and a knife into Antonio's hands. "It's important to look sharp. Dice those and mince this garlic when you're done."
He looked at the knife, deciding he wanted a bigger one. Antonio reached across the table, lightly putting his hand on Lovino's shoulder as he did. "You Italians always make pasta. What about pizza?"
"What about your head on a platter?" Lovino growled, bumping against Antonio with his hip. His hands were full with a knife of his own and a small block of cheese. "We're having pasta because I say so. And not to feed the stereotype, but my family is full of pasta gods. Mama taught Feli and I, and you know what? That bastard is even better than I am."
"All the more reason for you to make something else. No need to be second best at pasta when you can be number one at something else." Even so, he kept chopping the tomatoes. "How does your brother cook? Wouldn't that be difficult?"
Lovino snorted, grating the thick white cheese into a bowl. "He's got his own little system. Knows where all of his stuff is, and he's very good with portion sizes. But he's not totally calculating. He's spontaneous and he makes everything just perfectly. He's a fucking wonder child."
Antonio rolled his eyes a little at that. "It's amazing how you can feel both inferior to your brother, and completely overprotective of him at the same time. But I know how you feel about me talking about Feliciano, so I'll shut up now."
"I don't feel inferior, dammit!" Lovino cried indignantly. He tossed a piece of cheese at Antonio's face. "I just know when I'm beat, is all. And I'm proud of him."
"It's not just about the food." Antonio said, leaving it at that. It bugged him how Lovino would make those little comments, showing how he thought everyone liked his brother better than him. But Lovino didn't want them to be more than friends, so it wasn't really his place to say so.
"Whatever. Leave some of the tomatoes uncut. I like to eat them while I wait for the noodles to cook. Actually, hit me." He held out a hand, though his eyes remained trained on the stove as he began to heat the pot of water.
Unable to resist, Antonio hit the hand in a high five. Lovino practically glared at him. "Hey, you said it!" But he still handed over a plump tomato with a silly little grin.
Lovino scowled for a second longer as he sank his teeth into the bright red flesh before sprinkling salt into the pot. Antonio looked around, and saw a trendy, slim little black radio above the microwave. He reached over and turned it on, smiling as one of his favorite songs came on. While cutting the tomatoes, he swayed around a bit to the music, mostly wiggling his butt. And almost without thinking, Lovino stuck the tomato in between his teeth and reached out, swatting Antonio's ass. "Knock it off, you freak," he groaned. "You're not a girl."
The Spaniard jumped a little, and looked over at him. "Oh, getting kinky now? Did you like that? Do it again." He exaggerated the part by sticking his butt out some more and moving it around.
Quirking an eyebrow, Lovino scoffed and focused on demolishing the fruit in his grasp. "Once was enough, thanks. I'll have to get my hand decontaminated now."
"Aw, you know you liked it." Antonio said, grinning. Man, did he really need this many tomatoes for sauce? It was almost like he was going to feed a whole army. The Spaniard glanced at him, looking thoughtful. Then he jumped back with a cry. "Ow! Fuck!" He clutched his finger, dropping the knife on the table.
"What? What happened?" Lovino was at his side in an instant, grabbing Antonio's wrist and making him still. He examined the hand thoroughly and with caution. Then he frowned.
A slow grin spread over Antonio's face. "Just kidding."
"Fuck!" Lovino cried, dropping Antonio's hand and punching him in the shoulder, scowling even as the Spaniard stumbled back and rubbed it dramatically. "Fucking asshole. You scared me!" Then he kicked at him.
Antonio couldn't stop laughing, even as he was kicked. "Aw don't be mad! A harmless joke, I swear!" He blocked against a halfhearted hit, and Lovino stopped. "But it was cute how concerned you were for me."
"I wasn't...!" Lovino huffed, his ears and cheeks dusted over with red. "Fuck you. And if you ever do anything like that again, I'm kicking you out of my house."
He laughed again, turning back to the cutting board. "Alright, I don't wanna turn into the boy who cried wolf. And I give you free reign for getting me back with a prank of your own."
"You'll wake up bald, if I get my way, I fucking swear it," Lovino grumbled, shuffling back over to his station. Tiny bubbles had finally begun to sprout at the bottom of the pan and he took a box of noodles out of the cabinet in preparation.
"Aw, but then I wouldn't be as pretty." Antonio said with an exaggerated pout. He finished off the last tomato, and started on the garlic, which smelt up the whole kitchen. There would be no kissing tonight with this stuff, that was for sure.
"Please," Lovino snorted. "I think it'd be an improvement. That unruly mop you have going there is so adolescent."
He actually snorted at that. "Oh, and what about you? You have this one curl that's longer than the rest, just hanging in front of your face! It's even there when you just get out of the shower!"
"It's genetic!" came Lovino's defensive retort. "I'm well-fucking-groomed, thank you very much. Unlike some people."
"It takes me a long time to put together this just-got-out-of-bed look, actually." Antonio said, standing tall and flipping one of his random curls.
"Oh, I'm sure. So much tossing and turning at night goes into that look. And what, do you keep hairspray on you just to make sure it's kept intact?"
"Aw, that's mean," Antonio said, laughing. "So would you rather I slick it back like Ludwig?"
Lovino gave him a look so disgusted that Antonio could not even attempt to keep a straight face. "This was a halfway pleasant evening until you mentioned that bastard."
He laughed, just as he finished up the garlic. "Why do you hate him so much? I mean real hate. You pretend to hate people, get annoyed by a lot of people, but you really hate Ludwig. Is it because your brother likes him?"
"Yes. No! No, it's just..." He lightly kicked the cabinet and scowled into the simmering pot. "That asshole is all Feli ever talks about anymore. You'd think they were fucking or something."
Antonio made a humming sound. Then he put down his knife, and looked at Lovino with a grin. "Maybe they are."
"That's what I had thought, but I've been watching, and that bigass fucking Kraut barely gives him the time of day!" Lovino turned to Antonio, his face contorted in frustration. "Feliciano talks like he's so special, but he's just as distant and professional as he always was. My idiot brother is setting himself for heartache, and... I fucking hate it."
That made the Spaniard pause. "You know, I've worked with Ludwig for almost four years now. I wouldn't say we're friends, because he doesn't really have friends, I don't think. But sometimes, when he is around your brother, he gets the same look on his face that he gets when he's with the dogs, and he loves the dogs. I don't think you should worry about him hurting Feliciano's feelings."
After a moment, Lovino made a noncommittal noise and shook the spaghetti from the box into the cheerfully bubbling pot. "He just... he gives so much of himself to everyone he knows and loves." Lovino broke the box down and shoved it into a little recycling bag. "And he gets hurt so often because he's the kindest thing in the world, and in comparison, everyone else is shit. He doesn't deserve to be hurt so much."
"Neither do you," Antonio said without even thinking about it.
Lovino's shoulders visibly tensed and he would not meet Antonio's eyes. "We're not talking about me," he mumbled as the noodles slowly slid down into the bubbling water as they grew flimsy with moisture beneath the surface. "Anyway, his training should be over in the next month or so, so it probably won't be an issue for much longer. Tomato." He held out a hand.
"A whole one? 'Cause I cut them all up." Would Lovino really want to eat two tomatoes while he was cooking? That seemed a little weird, even to Antonio, who loved tomatoes.
"The bowl then!" He turned stony eyes to Antonio. "I need my fix."
He pushed the bowl over, grabbing a few of the bigger chunks for himself. "Well, is there anything else you want me to do? I make an amazing garlic bread."
"Oh, fuck yeah," Lovino said. "I've got some French bread above the fridge. Go nuts." He stirred the noodles with a wooden spoon.
Antonio grabbed it and started mixing up the garlic butter. "So, if I weren't here, what would you be doing right now? Working?" He likely would be. It was never a good thing when a workaholic could do his work from home.
"Probably," Lovino said, confirming the thought. "I mean, I live alone, I don't have any pets, I've seen every movie I own enough times to have memorized them all, and there's no shooting range in town. What the fuck else am I supposed to do? Besides, this is how I support the pathetic, but classy lifestyle I've grown accustomed to."
At that, Antonio turned around, wide eyed. "Oh my god... you should get a puppy!" he exclaimed, looking ecstatic. "You should so get a puppy! I could refer you to some good breeders, tell you all about the different breeds, teach you how to train him, you should totally get a puppy! Then you would never be lonely!"
Lovino sniffed petulantly. "I'm more of a cat person. Besides, I don't have the time for a dog." He stirred the noodles with a stubborn frown etched on his face. "Dogs are like relationships. You have to love them and nurture them, or they start to feel neglected. I travel a lot for business. It wouldn't be fair."
"Aw, but my landlord won't let me have pets! I come over here enough anyway, and during the day, I could take him to work and put him in a kennel with the other dogs. A bunch of other trainers do it. Please?" He looked at Lovino with big pleading eyes. "I know you would love having a dog."
"No means no!" Lovino said with a stern, ferocious glare. "Fucking hell, do you just have some sort of fucking hearing deficiency? No. Now make that damn bread before I stick you in the oven."
Antonio pouted and worked on the garlic toast, while thinking at the same time that this wasn't the end of this. He really thought that Lovino could benefit from having a dog, because that way he would have a constant companion.
When the noodles were finished, Lovino drained the pot and stirred in the sauce, tomatoes, and garlic, a rich, delicious scent drifting up from the pot just as Antonio popped the bread into the oven.
"That won't take long. So why don't you want a dog? Your brother is getting a dog." A very nice dog, actually. Ebony was one of their only Chows, since it wasn't a normal breed for working dogs, but she was very nice.
"Yeah, well, my brother can't see, and he can't stand to be alone for long. I'm hoping that this will cut down on the shitty boyfriends." Lovino stuck a fork in the pot and twirled it expertly before popping the pasta in his mouth for a little taste.
Antonio rolled his eyes, sitting down on a stool. "Well, I think you would like a dog. I could find a really affectionate lap dog for you, he'll love you no matter what. And then, if you want a hug and I'm not around, you can hug him instead!"
"The fuck does that even mean?" Lovino thumbed a bit of sauce from the side of his mouth and sucked it off. "We don't hug. Never consensually, anyway. And I told you, I like cats."
The taller man shrugged. "Well, you know that I'm always open for a hug." He held out his arms in an invitation.
Lovino snorted. "Don't kid yourself. Grab me a couple of plates and I'll dish this up."
He got two down and put them beside the stove. "One day, you'll hug me freely. And kiss me and everything that comes after. Just wait and see, no one can resist me forever," Antonio said with a slightly egotistical smirk.
The look Lovino shot him was pure murder. "First time for everything, as they say. Shut up and set the table. Wine's in the fridge. Don't. Say a word."
"I wasn't going to say anything. I think I've expressed enough times how funny your obsession with wine is." Once he had brought over a case of beer and had been shooed from the house to return it and get wine. Still, Antonio grabbed the white wine and two glasses.
"A glass a day is good for the heart," the Italian insisted, nodding when Antonio gestured toward the table with the bottle. "Two must be twice as good."
Antonio started pouring it, chuckling a little. "I don't think it works that way, somehow." Then he took out the garlic toast, and they started eating. The sauce was wonderful, and Antonio didn't think that Feliciano could do much of a better job.
Halfway through, and only just into Lovino's first glass, they both paused and looked at each other in mild confusion. Antonio blinked and Lovino frowned. "Was that you or did someone knock on the door?"
They both heard the dreamy voice that came from the front door. "Lovi~ Ve, let me in please! I lost my key again."
"Shit!" Lovino's thighs bumped against the table startlingly as he rushed to stand. "Coming, coming, hold your horses," he barked in the direction of the door, grabbing Antonio in passing and jerking him up from the table. "Shut up," he hissed, pulling Antonio urgently toward the coat closet. "Shut up shut up and don't make a noise, just get in!"
"But I'm still hungry..." Antonio protested, managing to grab a piece of garlic toast from the counter on his way to the closet. "Why do you care? It's just your broth-" But the door was shut in his face, and he was surrounded by darkness.
Lovino hastened toward the front door, fumbling with the locks before throwing it open to face his cheerful brother. "You didn't call, Feli," he grunted. Feliciano held out a hand and Lovino took it, tugging him gently inside.
He toed off his shoes, putting them on the shoe rack. Feliciano paused there for a moment, and Lovino could only see his back, but then he stood up. "Sorry, you never seem to mind. I just wanted to see you." He laughed, and tapped his sunglasses. "In a manner of speaking. I smell pasta!"
"Yeah, that's because I made some. You haven't eaten yet? Why haven't you eaten yet?" Lovino moved into the kitchen and heaped a plate high with spaghetti and bread.
"I had a late lesson with Ludwig. Do I smell like him? I can still smell the dog school for some reason. But I didn't smell it on myself outside..." Feliciano cocked his head to the side, walking around the room to see where the smell was stronger, trying to distinguish it from the smell of pasta.
Grabbing his wrist, Lovino made a noise of displeasure. "It's definitely you. I don't have a damn dog. They're too noisy and high-maintenance. And they need affection, of all the stupid things. Now come and sit down and eat some fucking food or I swear I'll steal all of your vintage wines in the night."
Feliciano just laughed it off, more than used to his brother's empty threats. "You can have as many bottles as you like. Grandpa filled it up with too many anyway." He went to go sit down on the extra chair, the chair that he always sat in, because Lovino always sat in the next chair. He reached in front of him and felt the plate that was already there. He looked in the general direction of his brother, smiling. "I'm sorry, you have someone over. Someone who smells like the school." Now the extra pair of shoes in the front hall made sense. They had felt too big and worn for Lovino.
The wine that Lovino had been previously sipping traveled very quickly and very painfully down the wrong pipe. He coughed and spluttered, ignoring Feliciano's hand on his back. "T-there's no one else here! I... I was just really fucking hungry, so I made two plates!"
The younger brother simply smiled. "You would have just gone up for seconds. And the shoes in the hall are too big for you, and it smells like dog in here. Are you two playing hide and seek? If you are, I think he's in the closet, because that's where it smells most like dog."
A quickly muffled laugh came from the closet.
"Shut up!" Lovino growled, burying his face in his hands. "Dammit, Feliciano, you're not supposed to sniff out people in my house."
He stood up, easily finding his way to the closet. "Why was he hiding?" Feliciano opened the closet door and reached out. "Hello."
Antonio grabbed his hand and shook it. "Hi Feli. Nice to see you."
Lovino mumbled something, toying with the food on his plate. "Better question is why he came in the first place," he grudgingly repeated when Feliciano drew near.
"Don't worry about the things he says, Antonio, my brother likes you or he wouldn't let you in the house." Feliciano said, walking back to the table. "Well, I'm going to leave and let you two get back to your date. I hope I didn't interrupt anything important." He felt like practically jumping in the air at the moment at the thought that his brother had found someone.
"What?" Lovino's gaze shot up at him in alarm. "You're not going anywhere until you've had something to eat. Plant your ass back down."
It didn't escape Antonio's notice that Lovino had forgotten to correct Feliciano's assumption. But he pulled up another chair and lead the younger brother to it. "Yeah, there is more than enough food. Feel free to stay and eat with us."
"Not that there's an 'us'," Lovino was hasty to amend, shooting a glare in Antonio's direction. "You'll need a shower, too. You reek worse than Antonio."
"Hey!"
Feliciano smiled and sat down, finally folding up his cane. "Well, alright. Ah, but I can shower at my house, I don't want to get between you two any longer than I have to. I guess I'm also covered in hair, right? I was with Ludwig and Ebony for almost two hours today. It was so fun! Ebony is such a smart puppy. Ludwig trained her so well."
"That thing is not a puppy," Lovino snorted as he took a sip of wine. "More like a small bear. It's scary as shit. Doesn't even wag its tail at you. Are you sure it isn't trained to kill as well?"
Antonio looked up from his plate. "For a working dog, Ebony is fairly small. And she's not trained to kill, but I think I did hear Ludwig training her to bark on command for some reason." That was definitely not a normal practice for them; normally they just trained them not to bark at all.
"He's so good with dogs," Feliciano hummed dreamily, taking a sip of wine himself. Lovino's expression turned a bit sour.
"It's his job, Feli."
"He loves them, too."
"Oh, he enjoys it. Give the man a medal for actually liking the thing he's paid to do."
The Spaniard laughed a bit. "You two are hilarious. So Feli, Lovino tells me that you're in art school, right? What kinds of things do you do?"
"Oh!" Feliciano sat up a little straighter, and when his glasses slid down the bridge of his nose and he pulled them off, Lovino gently took them without missing a beat. He laid them on the table away from the food before turning his attention to the food on his plate. "I paint and sculpt. Pottery, too. Just about anything I can get my hands on."
"That sounds nice. I'm not artistic at all, no talent to speak of, but I like looking at other people's work." Antonio spoke easily with the younger Italian. For the most part, Lovino was silent, and every once in a while Antonio glanced over at him with a smile.
"Lovi paints, too!" Feliciano said cheerfully, and Lovino turned a bit red, tilting his head down to avoid Antonio's eyes.
"Shut up, Feliciano."
"I mean, I don't know for sure, but I bet you they're very good. He used to hole up in his room for hours and do nothing but paint when we were little. Mama had to open the windows because she was afraid he might pass out." Feliciano beamed. "He let me do it, too, when we were little."
Antonio's smile grew at that. "Really? I would love to see them. And now that I know you paint, I won't stop until I see some of them." He would love to see some of Lovino's work. He didn't know much about art, but he could still appreciate it.
"Oh..." Feliciano bit his lip and Lovino's shoulders grew rigid. "Well, um, he can't-"
"Don't."
Feliciano grimaced. "Sorry."
When Antonio shot puzzled glances at the both of them, Lovino looked up. "It's none of your business. Leave it alone."
Knowing that tone, Antonio changed the subject. Lovino was still mainly not saying anything, so he spoke with Feliciano, asked him how the lessons were going with Ludwig, listened to him talk about Ludwig, and about how he couldn't wait to bring Ebony home.
"Ludwig is very patient with me," Feliciano said with a little wine-induced giggle. "He's so much better at teaching me than the others were. Right, Lovi?"
"Mmm," Lovino grunted, clearing the plates off the table and retreating into the kitchen.
Antonio nodded, a smile on his face. "Yeah, sometimes you have to be strict with the owners, and I don't think I would be able to be strict with you. You're just so nice, I would feel bad!" And he had to discipline little puppies.
"Ludwig's really nice, too, isn't he," Feliciano said with a little sigh. "He knows just what to say to make sure I do what I'm supposed to do. He never babies me. It's... nice. Very nice."
"Well, I'm not sure that nice would be the word I would use..." Antonio said. He would more likely uptight or strict, but in an innocent way. "But I'm glad you got a trainer that you like. It doesn't work well if you are uncomfortable with the person."
Feliciano's face blossomed with affection. "He always sounds so uptight, doesn't he? He's only really comfortable talking about dogs. But that's okay. He does very well, and he works hard. That's admirable. It's what Lovi always told me I should look for in a person. I don't know why he dislikes Ludwig as much as he does."
"Maybe Lovi's just jealous." Antonio laughed and glanced in the kitchen, to see Lovino's back as he washed the dishes. Antonio poured some more wine in his and Feliciano's glasses, absentmindedly wondering if the boy was old enough to drink.
"Probably," Feliciano said with a little grin of his own. "Mostly, I don't think Lovi knows what to do with himself when I don't come to him for every little thing. If more than a day goes by that I don't call, he thinks something terrible has happened to me."
Antonio laughed at that. "Yeah, I've noticed. Never even thought how it must feel from your side, having him worry about you all the time." It must be hard, having his older brother always checking up on him. Almost as hard as Lovino feeling he always had to protect his little brother.
"Oh!" Feliciano reached out, patting along the table until he found Antonio's wrist. His voice lowered. "It's not that I... I don't mind Lovi's protectiveness. I know he wants what's best for me. I just don't think he realizes that I'm not a little kid anymore."
He smiled and grabbed onto Feliciano's hand as well. "I understand. Trust me, he talks about you almost as much as you talk about Ludwig."
"Does he?" Feliciano laughed. "That's my Lovi. He does talk about other things too, doesn't he?"
Antonio glanced up into the kitchen to look at Lovino only to find that Lovino was looking right back. The older brother's eyes had landed on their hands, but when he noticed Antonio watching him, he hastily turned away.
Trying to act natural, Antonio pulled his hand away and clasped them under the table. "Yeah, he can talk about other things. But normally, there is at least one or two things about you in there. Oh well, just means he loves you, right?"
"Mmhmm." He yawned sleepily and rubbed at his eyes. "What time is it?"
"Half past eight," Lovino announced, walking into the room and wiping his wet hands on his pants. "Too late for you to go home. You can stay here tonight."
Feliciano shook his head, eyes fixed somewhere over Lovino's right shoulder. "No, I've interrupted you two for too long, I couldn't sleep over." A light blush covered his face, as well as a sheepish grin.
"Yeah, definitely time for bed. Come on, you lush. Let's get you some nightclothes."
As the two brothers left for Lovino's room, Antonio took the wine glasses to the kitchen and quickly washed them out. He didn't want to leave, at least not yet, he had to at least say goodnight to Lovino. For some reason, he hadn't liked the look in his eyes when he saw them holding hands.
Eventually, the golden-eyed young man finally made it out of the guest room, dark splotches of water all down his shirt, and half of his head was sopping wet. He grimaced when Antonio saw him. "The little bastard thought it'd be hilarious to try and drag me in with him. I need to go change."
Antonio laughed a little, and then even louder when singing was faintly heard from the room. "Well, at least he's happy, right?"
"Yeah." A little smile folded the corners of Lovino's lips upward, but he didn't quite meet Antonio's eye. "Your clothes are done drying, obviously, so you can... well, if you want to stay, there's still the couch, I guess, but you don't need to or anything."
"Thanks. Yeah, I'll probably go home. You know what Feliciano would think if I was still here in the morning." He shot a smile over his shoulder and went to the laundry room to grab his clothes.
Lovino followed him to the door, looking very ready to be anywhere but there, only meeting Antonio's eyes once in passing. "I'll be leaving tomorrow for Greece," he said, almost offhandedly. "So don't waste your time harassing me with texts. I won't be at your beck and call in the Mediterranean."
He lifted an eyebrow at that. "Oh, really? For work, I'm guessing? I hope you have fun. Take plenty of pictures, I'll ask to see them when you get back." Wow, Greece must be so beautiful this time of year. Antonio couldn't even imagine going to places like that.
"It's business, not pleasure," Lovino snorted, unlocking the door and holding it open. "The only good thing about it is the nap I'm going to take in the sun the minute we arrive."
Antonio put his dry clothes under his arm and nodded. "Doesn't mean you can't take pictures." He stood in front of the open door for a minute, before turning to Lovino and touching his wrist. "Is something wrong? You're acting too nice."
Lovino pulled back his arm and frowned. "I'm always nice," he grumbled. "Get out of my house."
The taller brunet snorted at that. Then, quickly, he leaned forward and kissed Lovino on the cheek. "Have fun in Greece, don't work too hard. And I'm still going to text you."
With that same odd confusion written on Lovino's face, he ducked away from Antonio and began to shut the door. "Yes, yes, fine, just go home!"
"And bring me a souvenir! Something cool like sand from a beach there!" Antonio called before the door shut with a snap. He grinned into the night, and began walking back home. Hopefully Lovino wouldn't be gone for long.