Swiggity Swooty, Get the Fuck Away from my Booty!:

The past two weeks have been fucking hell. Mid-terms are coming up in a couple of weeks. Which means that it's Satan's time to shine. Satan, being my professors, of course. It's like they get a kick out of making us miserable. I mean seriously. The first two weeks are so relaxed. You coast through, go to class, and take notes like any other diligently delusional student would. Times are good. What a breeze, right? WRONG! Surprise motherfucker! You've got three essays, two midterms and an oral exam due all in the span of three days! My Lit professor literally (ha) assigned us two essays this week. Not one, but two. That bastard. It's not like he's marking those papers either. He has his slave monkeys, otherwise known as the TA's, to mark them for him. Drawing from all of this, you can probably tell that I'm not in the greatest of moods. Go figure. Lovino's pissed off. What's fucking new?

It was Saturday night. The evening rush was always a bit later on the weekends, so I didn't have much to do. It was only five in the afternoon. I was stuck to my usual post at the front counter. I wasn't being in the least bit productive. I refused to look in the general area of table ten. Why? Because there was a certain Spanish bastard currently blowing air kisses at me. My hands twitched. I considered grabbing a fly swatter to figuratively smack them away. But then again, playing along with his twisted schemes would only encourage the moron to keep pursuing me.

My protests obviously weren't working all that well. The bastard 'coincidentally' showed up to the café every day that I was scheduled in to work. I was beginning to suspect that Feliciano was in on this conspiracy. That air head was always trying to hook me up with someone. Apparently, being lonely, grumpy, and miserable wasn't the proper way to live. So his solution was to hook me up with a sleep-deprived, cat-loving philosophy major. You can only guess how well that first date turned out. It goes to say that I drew out my claws when he attempted to pet me into submission.

Oh well. I suppose that Antonio being here all the time wasn't that bad. He does leave me some pretty hefty tips. Even if I wasn't the one serving him -which I never was. I had made it my personal mission to serve tables at the polar opposite end of the café. So far, my plan was succeeding quite well. Not a word has been spoken between us. Sure, he sends me notes from time to time. But I make sure to look him dead in the eye before I use a lighter to burn and destroy them. Overkill? Perhaps. Do I regret it? Not one fucking bit.

The horror in his eyes when I do that is priceless. Kicking down his ego a few notches is always something to look forward to. Unfortunately, this bastard has got a lot of fight left in him. It takes a buttfuck ton of effort to kick him down for good. Which is something that I've been aspiring to do for the past two weeks. I'm getting closer and closer every day. I try to ignore the fact that I get a small pang in my stomach every time that he looks at me. I rationalize it as nervous anticipation. I just couldn't wait to get rid of him. Yeah. That must be it. Don't argue with me on this. I'll fucking wreck you.

I let my elbows fall onto the marble counter. Feliks was gliding back and forth, shouting girlish quips as people dove out of his path of glitter and flamboyant destruction. Liza and her fangirl group were sitting near the front windows. It was a group that I tried to avoid at all costs. I didn't dare to walk past their table. If I did, several things would happen: Liza would try and succeed in grabbing my butt (no surprise there), Kiku would film the entire molestation, and his girlfriend, Mei, would be there to rate and critique my tsundere levels. Don't ask; I'd rather not explain. You don't think in this café. You either smile or run. Most of the time it's running; actually, it's a lot of running.

A gentle hand grasped my shoulder.

"Eh, Lovino?"

"FUCK! CHIGI!" I screamed and started with a jump. Mei sent me a chilling grin. She used a sharpie to write down my score onto a napkin. The Taiwanese girl proudly held up my tsundere rating. I scored a 9.5/10. Just fucking wonderful. It wasn't long before I was assaulted with the blinding flash of the camera, courtesy of Kiku, and a downright predatory grin from Liza.

I spun around. Matthew's face blushed a bright pink. He swallowed and averted his gaze to the ground. Matthew was a thoughtful and pensive Canadian boy. He was probably one of the only people that I could stand working with in this café. He had bright violet eyes, shoulder length curly blond hair, which had a weird cowlick sticking out from his forehead, and a slim build for a body. The Canadian was wearing his usual outfit. Or 'pervert repellent' as Alfred, his American twin brother, liked to call it. The outfit consisted of a red flannel shirt, with all the buttons done up, excessively baggy jeans that just about fell off of his slim waistline, and black leather loafers.

"Oh," I sighed out of relief. "It's just you." My eyes widened. Hurt flashed across Matthew's face. Damnit. How inconsiderate of me. Matthew and I shared the same type of demons when it came to our brothers. They were both loud, social, and overall more likeable to be around. Matthew was often forgotten because of his soft spoken nature. It wasn't his fault. To be brutally honest, Alfred was more memorable out of the two. The American made a much stronger impression on people, albeit it being an obnoxious one.

I struggled to cover up the mistake of my fat mouth. "I mean, not that I mind or anything. I just thought that you were another one of those perverts." I inadvertently jerked my thumb in the direction of Antonio's table. The idiota had the audacity to cup his hands into a heart and coo at me in response. He reminded me of a lovesick puppy.

Matthew pushed up his glasses on the bridge of his slender nose. "Oh," he mumbled. He shed me with a look of pitiful understanding. I reciprocated that gesture with a grimace. Being a server in this café was never easy. It turned you into a magnet for perverts. It's just unfortunate that the one I got stuck with was a persistent little fucker.

"That guy's been staring at you all afternoon," Matthew remarked. I grit my teeth. I didn't have to look to know that he was smirking. The boy was a passive aggressive little shit. Only those who knew him well would realize just how sarcastic he truly was. I suppose that's why we got along so well. We both had a profound appreciation for dark humour and making fun of insufferable customers.

"Don't remind me," I growled in a low voice. The Canadian simply chuckled at my flustered reaction. I could already feel the traitorous heat rising to my face.

To deter the topic, I playfully bumped shoulders with Matthew. If he wasn't so freaking tall I would have draped a casual arm around his shoulders. But alas, Matthew was a willowy, gentle giant -one that didn't hesitate to use his full height advantage over me. Exhibit A; the maple bastard was now fondly ruffling my hair. I smacked away his hand and went for the cheap shot. I had no shame in the matter.

"What about that Gilbert guy, huh?" I inquired. "From what I hear, he's been trying to get in your pants for a while now."

Matthew's blush was instantaneous. He quickly became a stammering mess. I stuck up my chin to the air and harrumphed in triumph. "You like that pasty bastard, don't you?" I grinned.

"N-no. H-he's just a customer. It w-wouldn't be very professional to harbor any f-feelings for him…"

"Lies!" I cackled manically. "Your face practically spells hot and bothered! You're fucking head over heels for him! Just admit it!"

"N-no. I d-don't…." Matthew grew more and more helpless. He looked like he was considering curling up into a ball and hibernating for the rest of the semester. No one was there to save him from my pressing claims.

My lips curled in distaste. I spoke too soon.

The kitchen doors swung open only to slam shut just as violently. Matthew and I both grimaced at the sound of Alfred's booming, ear-deafening laughter. "HAHAHA! Not to worry, Mattie! I'll save you! Those perverts don't stand a chance~!"

Alfred strolled behind us. Matthew and Alfred were very similar in appearance. Well go fucking figure, Lovino! They were identical twins, after all. But where Matthew had violet eyes, Alfred had bright cerulean ones. His hair wasn't a pale shade of blond, but rather more of a dirty wheat colour. Alfred was also slightly taller and more muscular than Matthew. The American was wearing a black, open-collar dress shirt, ripped skinny jeans, and a white cooking apron that was covered in hand prints, smears of chocolate and 'God-knows-what-else' stains. His hair defied gravity, especially that one particular cowlick near his hair line, but today it looked like it had gone through a blender. Flecks of flour covered the lenses of his glasses and the crumbs of what must have been yesterday's dessert were stuck to the corners of his disgusting mouth. Fucking fatass. That's what he was.

Matthew scowled. "Alfred," he scolded, patronizing his twin as if he were a small child. Which Alfred most definitely was. "How come you aren't helping out in the kitchen? And, oh, I don't know, doing your job?"

Alfred waved off his brother's nagging with a chocolate smeared hand. He was eating a hot fudge brownie with his bare hands. I cringed and just about snapped at the sound of Alfred's lip-smacking chewing. He was always one to speak with his mouth open. I bit my lip to quell my nausea.

"Being a hero to my lil bro will always be my top priority!" Alfred held up an index finger to pause his train of thought. He gulped down another massive bite of his brownie and burped. As if that wasn't already disgusting enough, he grabbed a can of Arizona and began to guzzle it down, all the while making sickening slurping noises. Matthew and I spared each other loathing looks.

SLAM! Alfred set down the empty soda can onto the counter, crumpling it into a flat, uneven, metal circle. I took a step back to avoid the spit-soaked soda shrapnel.

Matthew facepalmed. "I don't need a hero. I can handle the customers just fine on my own, thank you very much!" he huffed with about as much anger as a weaning baby chinchilla.

Alfred cackled and draped a heavy arm over Matthew's already slumped shoulders. The latter's knees buckled under the former's weight.

"Just like how you handled that pasty freak the other night? Eh, Mattie?" he scolded. "You shouldn't be such a pushover when it comes to giving people your phone number!" Alfred just about screamed into his brother's ear. He had never been one to master the art of speaking at a reasonably loud volume. Subtlety had never been his strong suit; being an obnoxious, boisterous moron was.

Matthew's response was muffled. Alfred had tucked the Canadian's head under his armpit; it was his way of showing brotherly affection.

"W-who said that I gave him my number?" Matthew stuttered.

"Rumours spread fast here, lil bro. You should know better."

Matthew's ears joined in on the blushing party.

Alfred knew his brother well.

"HA! SO YOU DID GIVE HIM YOUR NUMBER!"

"N-no…I…" The mortification game was strong with Matthew. "Y-you tricked me!"

I snickered and stepped back to avoid the rebound from the kick that Matthew had aimed at Alfred's shin. Alfred took the hint and released Matthew from his imprisoning choke-hold.

"Tabarnac!" Matthew cursed. "Just look what you did!"

Matthew scrambled to straighten his waiter's apron. Alfred's chocolate hand prints were smeared onto the front of it. I would have laughed had it not been for Matthew's death glare. That was one bello that you didn't want to piss off. Sure, he was quiet and harmless most of the time, but get him angry and there would be hell to pay. The last customer that did that had had his teeth knocked out with a motherfucking hockey stick. Matthew was right. He was more than capable of handling himself. Alfred's 'mother douche' tendencies was far from necessary.

Alfred, unsurprisingly, procured another brownie from the front pocket of his cooking apron. Matthew was quick to smack it out of his hands and into a nearby garbage can. Now that's what I call a proper slap shot! "Get back in the kitchen and do your damned job!" he growled.

"But Mattttieeee!" Alfred whined. "It's so awkward! Feli and Ludwig are all over each other!"

All three of us winced when the echoes of Feliciano's girly laughter traversed from the kitchen.

"Oh Luddy~! You naughty, boy! Ve, you touched me there on purpose~!"

"Ja, and what if I did?"

I shuddered and proceeded to block out the rest of that conversation.

I turned back to Matthew and Alfred. Alfred glared at me. "This is your fault," he accused, crossing his arms. Oh my fuck. Here we go again. Alfred blamed me for Feliciano and Ludwig's relationship. After all, I was the one who had given him my consent to date the potato in the first place.

But only after months of begging and pouting. It didn't matter in the end. If Feliciano wanted something, he would stop at nothing to get it. Alfred was just butthurt because I had failed my duty as the 'older brother' figure. It had something to do with a hidden bro code that involves cock blocking the shit out of the younger. Whatever. A happy Feliciano was much better than a moping one. Trust me. That air head could be miserable to be around if he didn't get his way. I remember this one time where he had banned me from entering his room. It turned out that he had been skyping with Ludwig the entire time. It was just like Romeo and Juliet; pasta-lover and wurst-fucker edition.

"Piss right the fuck off," I scowled. "You know that they would have ended up together regardless of my opinion over the matter."

Alfred sniffed and indignantly turned his head to the side. Matthew had reversed their positions. The Canadian was using a wet wipe to clean off the smudges of chocolate from his twin's mouth, teeth, and grimy fingers. When he was done with that, he grabbed Alfred's shoulders, spun him around and gave him a swift kick to the bum. Alfred bucked forward and squealed like the pig that he was.

"Go make a mess somewhere else," Matthew snapped.

"And do what?" Alfred just about whimpered. He had left the kitchen to take refuge from Ludwig and Feliciano's coddling. There wasn't much else for him to do. Or anywhere to go for that matter.

Matthew shrugged. "I don't know. Why don't you entertain Ivan?" he suggested, most likely sarcastically. I could never tell with that guy.

On cue, Ivan looked up from his laptop and sent Alfred a chilling smile. "Hello little one~!" he sang, waving his massive gloved hand in what was meant to be a friendly manner, but it came across as more of a 'I'm going to wreck your tight butthole at night and you're going to like it, da?' type of wave. Fucking creepy if you ask me. An aura similar to the color of his lilac eyes glowed around the smirking Russian.

Alfred fumed. He blushed right to the tip of his snotty, arrogant nose. "5'11 is not little!" he raged. I smirked. Ivan's looming height of 6'1 stroked Alfred's ego in the wrong way. It was obvious that he felt inferior in comparison to the stoic Russian. Which would explain why he was arming up and working out at the gym every day now. Something told me that it wasn't just his height that Alfred was just trying to overcompensate for. I smugly took a sip of my now cold espresso latte. But that's none of my business.

Matthew leaned an elbow against the counter. "20 bucks says that he won't last a minute with Ivan."

I reached into my waiter's apron, pulled out a twenty-dollar bill, and slapped it onto the counter.

"Ha!" I snorted. "More like 30 seconds."

Alfred stomped -more like twitched- over to Ivan's table. Ivan giggled -yes, giggled- and offered the fuming American a sunflower that he had picked from the garden outside. "Sunflower?" he asked.

Alfred smacked the sunflower to the ground. "Enough flattery, Braginski! What the hell do you want?!" he growled.

That was Alfred's one and only mistake.

Ivan's smile fell.

And… let the chaos unfold.

Ivan moved in a blur of white, presumably from his scarf, and pinned down Alfred, face first, onto the wooden table. The Russian had the American's wrist pinned behind his back. "All I did was say hello, little one. Why must you be so rude? I should teach you a lesson, da?"

The sickening crunch of Alfred's spine could be heard. It muffled and drowned out most of the vulgarity spewing from his mouth.

"Let me go, dammit!"

"What was that? Press tighter? Okay, tehe~!"

Alfred thrashed and squirmed but to no avail. "You're a sick bastard, Ivan!"

"Hehee~! How sweet! I've never been complimented like that before~!"

"Communist asshole!"

Ivan used his free hand to pinch Alfred in the stomach. His lilac eyes twinkled with sadistic delight.

"Capitalist pig~!" The looming Russian cooed.

Alfred roared and reddened all the same. His weight must have been a sensitive subject.

I held out my hand to Matthew and grinned. "Pay up."

Matthew glowered at me and reluctantly slapped a twenty into my open palm.

After that we didn't hesitate to look away.

The sexual frustration between those two was almost too much to bear.

…

7:00 PM

I was going to do it. The orders were coming out way too fucking slow for me not to say or do anything. Feliciano was training as a baker in the kitchen. Ludwig was getting distracted. Customers were getting angry and I was tired of shouldering the blunt anger of their massive egos. Something had to be done. And with that, I sucked up my pride and pushed open the kitchen doors. Feliciano and Ludwig broke apart. Go fucking figure. They were making out again. No wonder Alfred was so quick to leave. Well… that isn't very fair of me to say. A swollen eye was in fact a valid excuse to leave work early.

Feliciano smiled and smoothed a hand through his mussed up hair. He shed me with one of his infamous, quirky smiles. The smile that could light up an entire room and cheer up just about anyone. There would be no cheering up for me today, however. I was beyond pissed off.

I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but Feli and I are fraternal twins. This would explain why we contrast so differently from each other. He has copper coloured hair and brown eyes; whereas, I have auburn coloured hair and hazel, sometimes green, eyes. He was also paler in complexion. I took on more of an olive tone. Aside from the physical, we couldn't have been any more different. I was disagreeable, miserly, and stubborn. Feliciano was agreeable, joyful, and open minded. I was a literal juxtaposition of him. It just sucked that people took this opportunity to constantly compare us to one another. I had never been as social and enjoyable as Feliciano. I preferred being alone. He was one of the few people that I was comfortable being around, despite how annoying and clingy that he could be sometimes. But now he had Ludwig to cling onto.

Whatever. At least the potato knew his place in the matter. The moment that I walked into the kitchen, his entire demeanour shrivelled up. He stood up straight and stiff as a board. The blue-eyed German didn't dare to look me in the eyes. His pale eyebrows shot up straight into his greasy, gel-slicked hair line. I was just that scary. Ludwig was taller and much more muscular than I was, but no one could withstand my death glares for longer than thirty seconds. Ludwig was paler than the white chef's apron that he was wearing.

My eyes travelled to the left. I almost threw a fit when I saw what Feliciano was wearing. It appears that Liza didn't have to do that much convincing with him. Feliciano was wearing a maid's uniform. But it wasn't just any maid's uniform. Oh no. It was a girly one. A green dress, with white trimmings, and frills, and several other girly touches that I won't even bother to mention. The air head had even gone so far as to wear a white bandanna to keep the fringe out of his face.

I grit my teeth. Damnit. Escaping Liza's demands from this point on was going to be extremely difficult. The sex appeal of twins in dresses would be too much for her to handle. I know for a fact that she had already custom tailored a maid's dress just for me. It would go against my entire fucking conscience to wear it. Feliciano wearing his certainly didn't help with the case of my wardrobe rebellion.

I spoke in short, curt sentences. "Feliciano. Your training session with the potato ended over an hour ago. We need you out there serving tables." I looked at the ground while I spoke. I balled my hands into tight fists. I wanted to throttle the both of them for being so incompetent. While they were in here relaxing, Matthew and I were losing our fucking minds. It was about time that they pulled their damned weight.

Feliciano's brown eyes widened into a pout. "B-but Fratello!" he whined. Fake tears welled in his eyes.

"Don't you dare pout at me like that!" I snapped. I pointed towards the plating station. Several ceramic plates lined with pastries and cakes sat on top of the metal surface. "Now help me dish these out."

Ludwig sighed. "Lovino's right, Feli. I can handle things from here."

I bit my tongue. Who gave that bastard the right to refer to me on a first name basis?! The fucking nerve of that potato! I swear if I wasn't so busy right now I'd -!

Feliciano feigned a scowl. It was a pathetic attempt at trying to look angry. "Okay, Luddy," he moped. My fratello's smile brightened for a moment. Before I knew it, he was cupping Ludwig's cheek and smearing chocolate icing onto it. It was some kind of homo Simba moment. I've never been so uncomfortable and disgusted in my entire life.

"Ve! Now I have an excuse to give you a goodbye kiss~!"

I groaned and covered my eyes while Feliciano sloppily licked off the frosting from Ludwig's flaming red cheek. Feliciano grinned at my evident embarrassment and handed me a plate containing a slice of strawberry cheesecake. "This is for table ten~!" he sang before grabbing a few plates of his own, blowing Ludwig one last insufferable air kiss, and prancing out of the kitchen.

I spluttered. No way in hell was I going to serve table ten! "F-Feli!" I spluttered. I looked at Ludwig, who simply shrugged his burly shoulders in a laissez- faire 'what can you do' motion. I cursed, flipped off the potato in farewell, and chased after my idiota of a fratello. I almost smacked right into the kitchen door while doing so. I burst out into the restaurant and looked around. Feliciano was nowhere to be found.

I grumbled to myself and ruminated over my options. I could go back into the kitchen and wait until Feliciano was done with his orders. At least that way, I wouldn't have to serve the Spanish bastard. But that would mean spending time with the potato, and that was out of the fucking question. Alright. I'll just have to suck it up and serve the damned bastard. I'll sprint-walk over there, slam down his plate, and leave before he has a chance to say anything.

This plan was the only hope that I clung onto as I walked over to Antonio's table. He was sitting alone, thankfully. His buffoon friends must have been terrorizing some other part of the campus. My face reddened almost immediately. His chocolate curls stuck up in odd places. He looked like he had just woken up from a nap, as always. The warmth and intensity of his gaze made my stomach do somersaults. He kind of sort of did look adorable. I mean seriously. You could practically see his figurative tail wagging at the sight of me. His cheeks stretched out to form an ear-to-ear grin.

"Lovi~!" he beamed. "You finally came to me, mi amor!"

His sorry attempts at flirting went ignored.

"What the fuck is this?" I pointed to five untouched plates of the very same cheesecake that I was currently serving him.

Antonio shrugged and let out a breathless, airy laugh. "I needed an excuse to stay!"

I set down his most recent order onto the table. Just when I was about to turn on my heels and walk away, Antonio grabbed my wrist and beckoned for me to sit. "Join me! I can't finish all of this own my own~!" Tingles of electricity ricocheted up and down my arm, just from his touch. I wrenched away my wrist before I could assess my true feelings over the matter.

"Don't you fucking touch me, you bastard!"

"But Lovi-!"

"Don't call me that either!"

Antonio pouted and crossed his arms. "Why not?" he said through pursed lips. "I think it's cute."

"I'M NOT CUTE!" I raged.

"Eheh! I know. You're actually very sexy~!"

"FUCK THIS! I'M OUT OF HERE!"

I turned around to leave again. This time Antonio reached out to grab me by the string of my apron; the bastard. I spluttered and cried out for help. No one helped. Kiku snapped a picture while Mei and Liza argued over which page in their scrap book would be most appropriate to document this moment in. Fucking traitors, that's what they were.

Here I am getting kidnapped and they're bickering about which shade of red best compliments my 'moe' face. I could just see the title of the photo now. "Love at first eye grope." Shout out to Kiku for being a little bitch and not doing anything to break it up.

Before I knew it, I was sitting next to Antonio, albeit unwillingly. I tried to wriggle free but the bastard still had a strangle hold on the back of my apron. That strangle hold quickly turned into a hug. I shrieked when I felt Antonio's arms wrap around my waist. His -hard- stomach pressed up against my back.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!"

I thrashed and squirmed. Ignoring the furious punches and elbows that I threw to his stomach, Antonio sighed and let his head rest on the space between my shoulder and neck. I shivered despite the heat rising all throughout my body. He was so warm. I was so warm. Oh Dio. This felt way too good was something that was so, so, so very wrong.

"I'm hugging you," Antonio purred into my ear. "You look like you could use one."

"This isn't a hug. It's sexual harassment," I deadpanned.

Antonio lessened his grip. "If I let go, will you leave?"

"What the fuck do you think?" I growled, twitching all the while. I was this close to spinning around and punching him in the face. Now if only my hands would stop shaking…

"But I don't want you to leave…this is the first time that I've gotten to speak to you in a really long time!"

His voice embodied that of a girl scout who had just been told that their cookie factory had been burned to the ground.

"Oh fine," I huffed, despite internally berating myself for my push-over nature. "I suppose that I can take my break now."

"So you're not leaving?" The amount of hope in his voice was disheartening. It was like he had perked up entirely.

Who was I to crush his spirits?

"Fuck are you ever dumb. Yes, bastard. I'm staying. But only because you've left me with no other choice."

"That's not true," Antonio protested. I felt his body tense up against mine.

My ears reddened. His breath tickled my neck.

"Just shut up and let me enjoy my break," I grumbled half-heartedly. My anger rivalled that of a mewling kitten. It was hard to stay mad at this bastard for long. He was just too fucking happy.

I could feel his grin burn into the back of my neck. He unwrapped his arms from my waist. I pretended to ignore the emptiness that I felt after he did that. His hands still hovered near the back of my apron, however. Not knowing what to do, I slammed my forehead against the wooden, germy surface of the table. If only I was sleeping. At least then I could have woken myself up from this godawful nightmare.

I was too exhausted and embarrassed to face the rest of the ogling customers. From the corner of my eye, I spotted Matthew snapchatting this entire encounter. Feliciano, on the other hand, had joined Liza's group of fangirling/guying twats. I turned my head to the side and glared at them. They were all motioning for me to sit up and face Antonio, and very obviously at that. Feliciano got frustrated when I not-so-discreetly flipped him the finger. Liza and the rest of her perverted herd guffawed at my 'tsundereness'.

"Lovino Vargas!" Feliciano chided, loud enough for the entire room to hear. "Nonno raised you better than to slouch like that, ve!"

Mei cackled. "Yes! Just like that, Feli! Keep getting him worked up!"

"His tsundere levels are through the roof," Kiku remarked with narrowed, freakishly concentrated eyes.

Liza beamed and licked off the drool from her lips. "Mmmmmm. Mama Liza likes."

Likes what? God forbid that I ever find out.

I ignored the rest of their comments and sat up. Feliciano was so dead the minute that we got back to our dorm. "You goddamned, hypocrite! You're the one bending over for your precious 'Luddy' all the time!" I shrieked back.

Feliciano didn't say a word after that. Liza and Mei went into fangirling arrest. Apparently, they 'couldn't even anymore.' Kiku futilely tried to revive and resuscitate them by waving yaoi manga in front of their flushed, hot and bothered faces.

A gentle hand rubbed consoling circles into my back. I turned my head to glower at Antonio. He simply grinned back in response. I jabbed an accusing finger in front of his freckled, sun-tanned face. "Just look what you did, you fucking moron!" I growled only to falter when Antonio took my hand into his. He brought it to his lips. I blushed so hard that I nearly passed out from the blood loss.

"Who, me?" he purred. "Why whatever did I do?"

Existing. That's what you did.

I choked for words. "Uh…I…um…fuck!"

I wrenched back my hand and let it snap to my side. Antonio chuckled. I scooted towards the other end of the booth. How foolish of me. Antonio scooted closer and draped a casual arm over my shoulders. His eyes glanced over the untouched plates of cheesecake.

"Have some," he encouraged. "I've been here all afternoon and have yet to see you eat something." Ah yes. Thank you for reminding me about how much of a creep you truly are. I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth. Moronic, honest bastard.

I snatched a nearby plate. What?! I was actually hungry. It's not like I wanted to stay with the bastard or anything. Oh no. Nothing like that at all. My fork stabbed into the soft, creamy mixture. Antonio grabbed a plate of his own and began to eat as well. I wolfed down two slices in the blink of an eye. I was taking out my anger on the food. I chewed furiously. The taste of iron mixed in with the sweet taste of strawberry filling and cream cheese.

Antonio was still on his first. My glare prevented him from commenting on my gluttony. I eyed the third slice. A napkin blocked my view of it. Antonio delicately grabbed my jaw with one hand and tilted my head so that I looked him straight in his smoldering green eyes. I melted into a pile of cringe. I wanted to die. The squeals on the other end of the café didn't exactly help with this sentiment.

Antonio's eyes darkened as he dabbed at my mouth. His face was so close. Dangerously close. "I'm tired of playing games, Lovi," he tutted. I scowled at him like a chipmunk -remember the food in my mouth?- caught in the headlights.

"Now here's how this is going to work. I like you. And judging by the blush on your face, you obviously like me back."

I started to protest. Antonio placed a finger over my lips to silence me. I stared, mesmerized by those eccentric, passionate green eyes of his. It was like he had turned on a switch containing nothing but fire. He was hot. So very hot. I didn't realize it but I was slowly warming up to his advances. This was the reason why I had avoided him before. He just made me feel so helpless and needy. I hated how much I loved the way that he stared at me. He was giving me his undivided attention. It was scary and new, yet exhilarating all the same.

"But since you're too stubborn to admit it, I'm just going to have to force it out of you. You have two options. Agree to go on a date with me or suffer some very embarrassing consequences." Antonio drew out those last few words for dramatic effect. I wanted to kick myself. Whenever he rolled his tongue, my heart beat indefinitely sped up. For someone who was tired of playing games, he sure liked to start them.

My voice was muffled against Antonio's finger. "Those consequences being?"

"I'll kiss you right now. In front of everyone."

My eyes widened in horror much to his delight. I spoke in a rushed whisper. No one else could hear this conversation. I was treading on dangerous waters here. One kiss could send the roof crashing down on top of us. The catcalls would, quite literally, be just that loud. "You wouldn't dare," I hissed.

Antonio tsked. "I don't hear you refusing my offer~!"

My blush deepened.

The Spaniard smirked, seemingly satisfied with my reaction.

"Oh but I would. I would dare." Antonio leaned closer. His chocolate curls swept over his eyes. I had an irate, nagging and goddamned irritating urge to sweep the pieces of hair away from his face. Several people in the room held their breaths, including myself.

"You have teased me for far too long, Lovi. Perhaps I should just let go and give in to my temptations…"

I squeezed my eyes shut. "One date you said?" I squeaked.

God fucking damnit.

The next few sentences were drilled out very quickly and quietly. It was the verbal equivalent of an intense tennis match. I swung with insults and he returned with placating compliments and deep, alluring stares.

"Si."

"Fuck it. I'll go." Not that I had much of a choice. "When and where?"

"Tomorrow night."

"I'm working."

"What time do you finish?"

"Ten."

"Perrrrrfect." Dio. The rolling of his tongue was going to be the death of me. "See you then~"

I somehow managed to walk away from him after that. But not before bumping into four tables and tripping over my feet a countless number of times. The catcalls of encouragement fell deaf on my ears. All I could hear was the traitorous pounding of my heart in my chest. I didn't like this feeling. I didn't like it one bit.

"Lovino?"

I turned around.

"I'm looking forward to our date~!"

My mouth parted open in horror.

It was mere seconds before I was tackled to the ground, Feliciano being the first person to reach me. I squirmed but to no avail.

I wheezed while Feliciano rattled off into my left ear.

Everything went black after that.

The fangirls had come to claim their booty; literally.

~Swiggity swooty, the fangirls have claimed Lovino's mighty fine booty~

…

~The afternoon of the following day~

"Lovi! Lovi! Over here!"

I cussed under my breath. Antonio was driving me insane. Our date didn't start for another six hours. Didn't he have something better to do? Stupid question, Lovino. The idiot brings his school work to the café just so he can see you. Of course he has nothing better to do.

"Tch! I told you already! We don't serve morons!"

"What if being a moron is my kink?"

"Then you're out of luck!"

"Eheh. Want to know about another one of my kinks?"

Silence.

He was still going to humor me with his pervertedness regardless of what I did or didn't say.

"I find it attractive when a man wears a dress…"

My heart stopped. Liza gave me the look. The look that alluded to torture and the fruit of her forbidden sexual fantasies. I nearly fainted when she pulled out her sewing kit from her backpack. The tiny silver needle glinted in the sunlight. I began to mourn for the pride and dignity that I would shortly be deprived from.

I had two options: Fight or flight.

Right now, I just so happened to choose fight.

Flight would happen a little bit later…

To be continued….

Hello again! So, this chapter was pretty wild, huh?

You guys have all been so kind, and I feel like it should be rewarded. During my reading break in October, I'll try (emphasis on try) to get out two chapters as opposed to just one chapter a month. We'll see how things go :D!

For those interested, I'll be uploading yet another new story next week! It's a 21 Jump Street Parody. It will include Alfred (Channing Tatum) and Arthur (Jonah Hill) as the main characters xD. Hopefully, I'll see some of you guys there! Oh, and for those wondering, I'll be keeping on schedule for "The Fault in Your Idiocy". Next week will be a dual upload :p

Thanks again to NebulaZee, my fabulous beta reader who made all of this possible, and all of those who have followed, favourited, and taken the time to review. It means a lot!

Until next time! (A steamy Spamano date, what? ;))

All the best,

-Ella