A/N: Please read full author's note below.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.
Kicking The Bucket List
nineteen
"Those who party together, stay together."
—Alan Ashby
If Lovino hadn't known that there was this— this really weird societal pecking order at Evergreen Hollows University, then he sure as hell did now.
It was during lunch when the Italian had found out— or realised, rather. While he was occupied with helping out with the props (as per usual), Allistor would every so often find ways to talk to him and drop by whenever he could. But only this time, there was this influx of students; be it peers or underclassmen of Allistor's that had decided to drop by just to offer the new couple their felicitations.
And by 'couple', he meant Allistor. Like, it didn't take too long for Lovino to pick up on the fact that majority of the people that had come by to greet them only greeted Allistor and Allistor only. Not that he minded, no. It merely irked him at first, but then he thought about it more and remembered that he didn't really give a shit.
It was trivial enough. He didn't even know these people and he certainly didn't talk to them either. These were basically random faces he would see on happenstance bases, just because they happen to go to the same school. So really, it wasn't that much of a big deal.
It's not like they were suddenly going to be the best of friends or anything, just because Lovino happened to be in a relationship with Allistor.
So it was just, like, whatever.
"What do we need, Lov?" Allistor asks later that afternoon, pushing the shopping trolley at a steady pace as he languidly trailed behind his Italian inamorato.
After the two were done with their obligations, the couple had decided to take Lovino's Range Rover to the nearest Whole Foods supermarket so they could go shopping for dinner. They were planning to have dinner with Feliciano at home. Thus, the older Vargas decided to make risotto ai frutti de mare; seafood risotto. It was one of his best dishes, if he did say so himself.
He hummed in thought, placing his hands on his hips as he observed the vegetable section. "Okay," he began. "So we already have the arborio rice for the risotto at home."
Allistor comes to a stop beside a crate of organically grown apples, watching in curiosity as Lovino mentally went over his risotto check-list. The Vargas knew he knew the recipe like the back of his hand and would normally have a clear idea of what he had at home and what he needed to buy, but with Allistor around, it was a little bit harder for him to think straight, let alone fucking concentrate.
He casts a quick glance at the redhead, expression deadpan, "I hope you aren't allergic to shellfish or anything. 'Cause that'd really suck."
A lilting laugh escapes the Scot's lips— leaving the Italian's heart aflutter merely hearing it— and he gives his boyfriend an easy smile. "Nope! No allergies 'ere, Lov."
Lovino nods, pulling his phone out of his pocket and padding over to one of the crates filled to the brim with green, leafy vegetables. "Good. I'll tell Feliciano to start prepping the antipasto."
Allistor nods in acknowledgement, pushing the cart before him once more to where Lovino is standing.
"I need parsley," Lovino mutters distractedly, brows drawn together as he sent his brother a quick text. Allistor smiled warmly and wrapped his arms around the former's waist, chin propped atop Lovino's shoulder.
Lovino: Get started on the antipasto already
Lovino: Did u make dessert too or should I like
Lovino: buy a cake or something idk
"Are yeh excited for tonight, Lov?" He asks nonchalantly, ignoring the offended and aghast stares of several others near them.
Feli: Yep! :D Prepping the garlic bread already. I'm making cream puffs! :3
Feli: Oh yeah
Feli: I forgot to mention
Feli: A friend of mine is coming over too okay? :D
"Yeah," the Italian is quick to answer, face scrunching up into a sour look of distaste. "Feli's inviting one of his stupid friends over to dinner. Ugh."
Lovino: "forgot" (:
Lovino: bullshit :) :)
Lovino: give me an earlier heads up next time
Lovino: asshole :) :) :)
In his annoyance, Lovino shut his phone screen close and shoved the phone back into his pocket, ignoring the ping from it that quickly followed.
The redhead quirked an eyebrow up. "So it's like a double date then, Lov?"
"No?!" Lovino couldn't help but exclaim (screech), expression incredulous. A short, sarcastic laugh left his lips. "It's not. Trust me. If this were a 'date'— which it so isn't— Feliciano would tell me."
Then he thought about it a bit more and his frown grew a little more deeper.
"…I think. Like, he better. If he doesn't, I'm kicking his ass to hell and back."
"Right," Allistor says, voice taking on a teasing tone. A smile crossed his lips once more as he pressed his lips against the Italian's cheek in a chaste kiss before pulling away, leaving Lovino a flushed, flustered mess.
"Not in public, dammit," the Italian threatened, hazel eyes narrowing as he elbowed the redhead behind him.
A light laugh escapes the Scotsman's lips, drawing his arms away from Lovino's waist. "'Course, Lov."
It's nearing nightfall by the time Lovino and Allistor get back to the Vargas brothers' apartment; as soon as they enter the spacious penthouse, the scent of garlic is wafting in the air.
A familiar jingle resonates through the living area, cold fear suddenly seizing Lovino's gut like a stab the of a knife, whose arms are full of groceries. He instinctively stiffens, muttering an incredulous 'Oh God' under his breath as he deftly made his way to the living room, heart racing in a mixture of trepidation and dread.
Allistor follows soon after, locking the front door behind him as he made his way to the kitchen, his arms full of groceries as well.
He watches in bemused curiosity as Lovino gawks at the telly, expression absolutely— and Allistor is not exaggerating this, no— mortified. The haunting tune confirms the older Vargas' suspicions exactly.
Feliciano is in front of the TV, trying to contact Nonno through Skype. Lovino nudges his distracted younger brother with his elbow, adjusting the brown paper bags in his arms.
"What the fuck are you doing?!" Lovino hisses in hushed Italian. He normally would have gesticulated to emphasise and to express his ever-seething anger, but with his arms full of fucking groceries, he couldn't exactly do anything else with his hands other than to, like, fucking hold them and shit.
"Oh, hi, fratello!" Feli greets, beaming at his brother before leaning in to peck the elder's cheek.
"Why?" Lovino demands, the pitch of his voice rising as his exasperation grew more and more evident. "Why are you calling Nonno?!"
Feliciano smiles at him faux naïf, "Ve~ Why not? It's about time Nonno's met Allistor too, don't you think?"
Lovino narrows his eyes at the younger twin for a moment, as if trying to discern whether or not Feliciano was trying to bullshit him. This— This was some kind of payback for earlier, wasn't it? That bastard!
Just as he's about to open his mouth to retort— whoomp, there it is— Nonno's face is all up on the TV screen. The TV was like, 65 inches too, or something. So that was a lot of Nonno, okay?
The older Vargas instinctively winces. Ugh. Nonno had the tendency to lean in too close whenever they were Skyping. It was fucking embarrassing.
"Ciao, Nonno!" Feliciano greets, beaming at the screen.
"Hello, Feliciano!" Nonno guffaws in response. "How have you been, ah?"
"…Ciao, Nonno," Lovino (begrudgingly) mutters as well, rolling his eyes before making his way to the kitchen connected to the living room as Feliciano and grandpa began to animatedly talk in rapid-fire Italian.
Allistor is already busy with unloading the groceries. He offers the disgruntled Italian a small smile. "Who's tha', Lov?"
A deep regretful sigh left Lovino's lips as he set down the groceries before him atop the white marble counter. "That? That would be… my grandfather."
As if on cue, the aforementioned's voice rang out throughout the apartment. "Lovino! Stop hiding from your grandpa and show me your boyfriend!"
"Fuck—" Lovino hisses, voice raising several octaves in pitch once more. He places his hands down on the counter, head bowed in thought. Dammit. Feli is so dead.
Fingers drumming against the cool marble, he quickly glances up to face the Scotsman, only to find that he wasn't even in the fucking kitchen anymore.
Well, shit.
Shit.
The Italian made his way to the living room post-haste, just in time to see Allistor courteously wave at the TV screen with fucking Nonno staring him down, leaning in even closer to the goddamn camera to squint at his boyfriend.
Something akin a strangled cry escaped Lovino's lips as Nonno hummed in thought, brows furrowed and jaw set.
After several moments of awkward silence, the first thing he said to break the nerve-wracking tension was, "Why is he so white?"
"Oh my God, Nonno, you can't just ask people why they're white!" Lovino was quick to cut in, snapping out of his trance to stand in front of his— admittedly pale, yeah— Scottish boyfriend.
"Oh, no, it's quite alright!" Allistor says anyway, smiling at the camera. "Ah'd be lying if Ah said it was th' first time Ah was asked tha'. It's a pleasure ta meet yeh, sir. My name is Allistor!"
Nonno gave another thoughtful hum, rubbing his stubbled chin as he drew back a fraction from the camera (thank you God). "A Scottish brogue. Interesting. So you're the one who's finally won Lovino's heart, ah?"
Almost immediately, the aforementioned Italian's face couldn't help but flush fifty shades of crimson as he brought his hands hands up to his burning cheeks. "Nonno, per l'amore di Dio, please shut up. God, why do you have to be so embarrassing?"
"What? 'Embarrassing'?" Nonno echoed. Hoe don't do it. "I'm not embarrassing! I'm a cool grandpa! Isn't that right, Feliciano?"
"…Oh my God."
"So Allistor! C'mere and tell me more about yourself!"
"You know you don't have to do this, right?" Lovino says to the redhead, turning to face him. And by 'you don't have to do this', he automatically meant, 'don't'.
"No, it's fine! Ah want to!" Allistor coaxes in a reassuring tone, the words themselves in no fucking way actually reassuring him.
Exasperated, embarrassed and 100% done with life, Lovino threw his hands up in surrender and made his way to the kitchen. "You know what? Whatever. I don't care anymore. I have dinner to cook, dammit."
As such, he deftly began to prepare the ingredients. He cleaned and diced the assortment of Mediterranean seafood, as well as the vegetables he had bought. Then he started to prepare the stock using the seafood. Thankfully, Feliciano had gone ahead and made one of the antipasti; garlic bread with mozzarella cheese and chopped basil leaves.
He brought out a large sauté pan and placed it on the stove over medium heat. Once it was hot enough, he poured in a splash of olive oil and added a cupful of chopped onions. He seasoned it with salt and pepper and stirred it around with a wooden spoon and letting it sizzle on the pan.
He alternated with preparing the salad as an additional appetiser, breaking escarole, chicory and romaine lettuce after a quick yet thorough rinse. He tossed the greens about in the clear glass bowl, setting it aside.
Lovino then added some minced garlic and parsley in the pan. When that was done, he finally added in the mixture of cooked seafood in and reduced the heat, letting it simmer for a few minutes. He added a cupful of dry white wine and cooked it until it evaporated, then added a bit more pepper. The Italian poured in the arborio rice, stirring gently, and cooked it until the rice began to change colour. He added a cup of seafood stock and cooked it over moderate heat until it had been absorbed by the rice. He added the remaining five cups of stock, a cup at a time, until the stock is gone and the rice tender.
During times like these, Lovino often preferred to work alone, cooking at his own pace and completely engrossed in what he put his mind to.
Yeah, sure, cooking could be hectic as fuck. But somehow, Lovino managed to make it work! He cooked with the finesse and speed of a seasoned chef. If there was one thing he liked other than writing, it'd definitely be cooking.
Maybe, perhaps, it would've been more reasonable for him to take gastronomy— but that means he'd have to work as a chef. That means he'd have to spend all day surrounded by food he can't eat, because he's cooking it for other people.
And let's be serious here.
That's just plain torture.
So, no; no to gastronomy, period.
While he was stirring the rice around, Feli came in at one point so he could check on the dessert.
"I think Nonno really likes Allistor, Lovi!" Feliciano starts, smiling as he examined the cooling sfinge de San Guiseppe set aside on a tray before he began to cut the tops of the puffs off, and filling them in with a cheese filling. He garnished them with maraschino cherries and strips of candied orange peel afterwards. "They're talking about that time Nonno went to Scotland with his friends for a wedding!"
Lovino snorted, adding in the butter, cream, Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese and green onions. He stirred it around, the risotto taking on a delightfully creamy texture. Perfection. He decided to let it simmer for two more minutes before going around the kitchen to set the dirty dishes in the sink. "That time he almost got arrested?"
A light laugh escaped the younger's lips, "Yep! That's the one."
The older twin merely nods in response before his eyebrows furrow in remembrance. "Oi. Is your friend still coming over?"
"Yeah?"
"Then what's taking the guy so long, dammit?"
"Oh. Luddy still has classes at the moment—"
"Who the fuck is 'Luddy'? The fuck kinda name is that?"
Something akin a weary sigh left Feliciano's lips. "You know, fratello, I'm pretty sure we've had this conversation before."
"Really?" Lovino paused momentarily, poring over that for a moment. A second later, he goes back to the stove to stir the risotto around before turning the heat off. "I don't remember. Whatever."
"Well, don't worry. You'll meet him later!"
"Right." The older Vargas sets the spoon down after tapping it against the edge of the pan several times.
Shortly after that, the twins go about setting the table and preparing the plates. Lovino finishes up the salad by drizzling over it with vinaigrette and tossing in a cupful of garlic croutons. Allistor is still busy talking to Nonno. Lovino can only hope that the dysfunctionality of his family doesn't completely scare the Scotsman away.
…'Luddy'.
What words could be used to describe 'Luddy'?
He was buff, for one. Built like a fucking fridge. Lovino nearly went into cardiac arrest the moment he opened the goddamn door, a hand reflexively reaching out for one of the umbrellas by the front door. The kid was he and Feliciano's age, apparently, and yet he looked like he beat people up for fun, or like some sort of bouncer for a sketchy Russian nightclub or something.
He beat the shit out of puberty, that's for sure.
'Luddy' was also blond. Very blond. His hair was pretentiously slicked back (with what Lovino could only assume to be globs and globs of hair gel) like the anal-retentive rulebook and student handbook-licker Lovino could just tell he was.
And— And the way Feliciano fucking looked at him! Ugh.
Ugh.
Gross.
Lovino did not like it, no. Nope. No. Not one bit.
Feli looked at the German like he put the stars in the sky or something, or like he was the creator of pasta. His honey brown eyes were practically fucking sparkling with 'happiness~!' and 'joy~!'
Bullshit.
Ah, it was a classic case of hate at first sight. And if you don't think that hate at first sight is real, and that love at first sight is the only thing that matters, then you're wrong and you should just stop. The Italian hadn't said a word to this— this 'Luddy' person yet, and he already hated him.
"I'm sorry I'm late. My class ran a little late today and I tried to get here as soon as I could," the aforementioned apologised, something the German had probably rehearsed ten times over in his head while coming over here. A grunt left his lips as Feliciano practically— no, literally— flung himself into the blond's arms and enveloped him in a hug.
It merely intensified the flames of Lovino's burning hatred. He wasn't sure himself how he could hate someone this much from just meeting them, but if there was one thing the inner cynic in him knew, it was that he always had room for hate in his heart. His blood ran as cold as ice despite the inferno of his internal rage. Yet still, he tried to keep his composure calm and collected, and even managed to force a wry-looking grin (read: grimace) on his face!
"Hello," 'Luddy' says, politely stretching a hand out for Lovino to shake, as if Feliciano didn't have his arms wrapped around the German's torso like an anaconda asphyxiating its prey. "My name is Ludwig. You must be Lovino. A pleasure."
The corner of Lovino's lip twitched upwards in annoyance, hazel eyes narrowed as he shook the German's had in a vice-like grip (which may or may not have left his own hand aching). "Huh. If only I could say the same."
Feliciano gasps in shock, drawing his arms off and away from the blond and lightly elbowing his brother's side. "Fratello!" He chastises, all but a tincture of actual threat hidden in his otherwise blithe and saccharine tone. "Be nice."
As hazel eyes meet honey brown ones, there's an unreadable expression on Lovino's face as he smiles back at his twin. He won't be nice, but sure. He can play nice no problem.
Maybe.
"Are you fucking kidding me? I'm one of the nicest motherfuckers on the block!" He says, then shifting his gaze to the towering German before him. "Ludwig. I'll call you Ludwig."
Dinner was awkward and tense.
Mostly awkward, but still very tense.
…Actually, no. It was the fucking epitome of awkward. Never has Lovino ever experienced this much awkwardness at a dinner table, and he's had Christmas dinner with Nonno and all his ex-girlfriends before! It really sucked, he supposed. There shouldn't be so much hate at the dinner table; especially in front of all this amazing food.
(Never mind the fact that he was the main instigator of the hate in the first place.)
Despite the wonderful seafood risotto, the antipasti to match, and the crisp white wine that went perfectly with all of it, Lovino was still pissed.
Seriously! Who is this guy, right? Where the hell did he even come from? The kid takes engineering while Feli takes art. They're in a huge ass school, how did they even meet in the first place?!
Never mind that the exact same could be said for Lovino's own inamorato, no! Fuck you, this was clearly different!
Despite the older Vargas' awareness of his hypocrisy— which made him even more of a hypocrite, now that you think about it— he couldn't help but direct a handful of scathing jabs towards the German through passive-aggressive remarks (read: throwing shade).
Feliciano had picked up on it, however, and kicked Lovino's shin underneath the table several times throughout their meal. It indirectly fuelled Lovino's inner troll, and thus, inadvertently fuelled the onslaught of pseudo-insults further.
For example:
"Ludwig, would you like more salad? Oh, wait. Don't stress yourself out. I'll get some for you instead, so don't you worry~. Your poor little brain must be hurting from all that math!"
Or maybe, perhaps:
"So what do you like to do in your spare time? Do you have a part-time job as a bouncer? Or maybe you collect rulebooks and postal stamps!"
Let's not forget the classic:
"How many tubs of hair gel do you go through everyday? Dio, your hair looks so tough. Not a hair out of place. Must be one hell of a bitch to wash out, huh? I bet you order your hair gel in boxes. You do, don't you? You're like anti-L'oreal. They must really hate you, huh?"
The barrage of questions had left the German a tad flustered and bemused. There was just something… off with how Lovino spoke. Like there was something more to be read in the context of things. Or maybe not. Maybe it was just how the Italian was! Maybe, perhaps, Ludwig was reading into it too much. Hmm.
"Hey," Lovino breathed out, smirking as his Scottish boyfriend as he led the latter to his bedroom door. "Let's talk here. Feli and Ludwig are cleaning up, anyway."
"'Course, luv," Allistor obliges, following Lovino into his room.
Lovino holds the door to the room open, a hand automatically reaching up to flick the light switch on. His expression turns sheepish as he kicks a stray Adidas sneaker away. "Sorry about the mess and shit," he half-heartedly apologises, letting the other in.
Allistor steps inside Lovino's domain, glancing around the room observantly. Save for the several items of clothing randomly strewn around the floor, the room itself was relatively clean and quite simple— and, to be honest, somewhat sparse— in terms of décor. There was a queen-sized bed tucked into one corner of the room, with a bedside table and a desk beside it.
He languidly makes his way to the centre of the rom, wondering how Lovino usually went about his day when he was at home.
Meanwhile, Lovino had shut the door closed, and Feliciano's lilting laughter and Ludwig's baritone chatter had been reduced to naught but faint muffles, almost inaudible. With the room pregnant with silence, a growing… tension of sorts had followed its wake as Lovino sauntered over to the redhead, heart rapidly beating against his chest. He could feel his cheeks burning, and he was very sure that they were a bright red.
Allistor turned to face him and smiled, wrapping his arms around the latter's waist and pulling him in 'til they were chest-to-chest.
"Thanks for tonight," he says, voice low. He nuzzles his boyfriend's cheek before softly kissing it. A shaky breath left Lovino's lips as he, too, reached up and wrapped his arms around the redhead's torso as well, heartbeat palpitating; face reddening; mind spinning. Then he glances up.
And hazel meets forest green.
Lovino reached up to cup the Scotsman's cheek, feeling dizzy with how strongly he felt for the other. He wasn't entirely sure if it was frisson, or something much more… something deeper. But in that moment, he knew— he just knew— that what he was feeling was genuine and it was real, and that it wouldn't fade away so easily, no.
Their minds were now set upon the same path, and their bodies moved perfectly in sync with one another. Lovino gently nudged Allistor in the general direction of the bed and, almost obsequiously, the Scotsman followed, stumbling back onto the soft mattress before making himself comfortable. He sits up slightly as the Italian approaches him. Lovino leans in and presses their lips together in a chaste kiss once, twice. A soft sigh escapes Allistor's lips as he pulls the Italian right on top of him.
Lovino deepens the kiss as Allistor slowly, teasingly runs the tip of his tongue along the Italian's bottom lip, asking for permission to which the other immediately granted.
Maybe, perhaps, the odd couple had progressed far too quickly in their relationship compared to other couples. Chances are, they have. They've already made out before, so maybe that was why none of them bothered taking it slow. And with the electric chemistry they had, plus some poor self-restraint, they only craved and longed for the presence of one another.
Amidst their osculations, growing more and more heated as time lapsed, Allistor managed to flip Lovino over and pinned him down to the bed, a fieriness in him coming to light; a stark contrast to his gentle nature. Hands were wandering everywhere and anywhere within hand's reach, be it down delicate sides, the curvature of one's spine, or over the line of one's shoulders.
Truly, there was nothing in that moment keeping them apart from one another.
The other side of the door seemed like a world away from where they were. Reality could not touch them because they had each other.
Allistor slid his hands up Lovino's shirt, caressing the smooth skin, creamy in colour under the luminescence of the soft flavescent lights. Every single touch left a scorching heat that trailed along Lovino's body, leaving him wanting more; craving more, be it the kisses shared between them or the one kissing him himself.
The redhead pulls away and leans down to sink his teeth into the junction between the brunette's neck and shoulder, a soft moan escaping the latter's lips as he brought his hands up to fiery scarlet locks, tangling his fingers in them and lightly tugging near the roots.
His bedroom felt more and more like a furnace. Lovino tugged at the hem of Allistor's button-down, where the other quickly caught on and obliged, pulling away momentarily so he could undo the first few buttons from the top.
Lovino sat up as well, pulling his shirt off and revealing rather taut and firm skin, lean with muscle in all the right places and slick with sweat. He was about to ball the article of clothing up and toss it somewhere over Allistor's shoulder, until a knock on the door had instantly paralysed them both. It was much like a slap to the face that had successfully brought them out of their little world.
The two instantly grew rigid in shock, then panic. It only took them another split second to recover as Lovino shoved Allistor away lest Feliciano open the door, the both of them trying to fix their rumpled clothing.
"Fratello! Luddy's gone now. He went home!"
"S-Sure, just wait a second, dammit!" Lovino stammers, voice oddly high in pitch as he stood up and tugged the shirt down before stumbling over to the door. He runs a hand through his hair in effort to not make it seem elegantly dishevelled for once; but in effort to at least make it seem like he hadn't been making out with his boyfriend for, like, the past twenty-five or so minutes.
He threw the door open and glared at Feliciano. "So? What do you want?"
The younger twin, having more than a hunch as to what the couple had been up to all along, smiled faux naïf. "Ve~ Well, since Luddy left already, I thought we could just sit on the couch with a bottle of wine and talk some more!"
Lovino knit his brows together, honestly at a loss for words.
"No more alcohol for me, thanks," Allistor says easily, coming up from behind Lovino and looking like he had just rolled out of bed (which he had). "Ah'm driving an' Ah don't want ta take any chances."
He then glanced down at his wristwatch and nodded, walking out to the corridor. "Ah suppose Ah should get going now. Ah'm afraid it's getting quite late now, innit?"
"Yeah," Lovino concurs a bit too quickly. "You should— you should, y'know,"
"Go," Allistor supplies, face a bit flushed as he smiled at the Italian.
"…Yeah." The older Italian says again. "Go."
"So soon?" Feliciano asks, quirking an eyebrow up, mischief alighting his amber eyes. "Don't let us keep you though! You should get some rest! I'm sure you're very tired by now—"
Lovino fakes a loud cough before pushing Allistor in the general direction of the door. "I agree. You should probably go, yes."
Allistor laughs as the twins walk him to the front door. "Dinner was absolutely wonderful, thanks so much," he says, opening the door and stepping out. He smiles at the both of them before he bids them a goodnight.
"I'll see you tomorrow morning, Lov?" The Scot asks, smiling at him.
"Obviously, yeah," Lovino deadpans, rolling his eyes. Allistor kisses Lovino's forehead before he steps back and makes his way to the sole elevator a bit down the corridor.
The Italian watches his inamorato retreat, unaware of the smile on his face. It warms Feliciano's heart to see his brother so happy, but first things first—
Feliciano clears his throat, drawing the attention of his twin. He crosses his arms and puts on a brave face.
"Fratello. We need to talk."
Lovino gulped, accepting his fate and closing the door behind him. Maybe he can open the aforementioned bottle of wine. After all, it's easier dealing with life when you're a little tipsy. Same could be said for one of Feliciano's long sermons and lamentations. Why bother trying to take it all in sober when you don't give a shit, right?
Before Lovino knew it, it was already Friday. He and his friends were hanging around the Performing Arts Department after a quick lunch, then set about doing the usual. Making props; carrying stuff around; doing whatever was asked of them. They all ran errands, basically. Those in the higher years— or those who are actually part of the production— would have more worthwhile duties.
"Say," Bella pipes up at one point, picking at the lint on one of the costumes to be ironed before her. "You know what'd be really cool?"
"What?" Michelle absentmindedly asks, distracted with going through one of her friends' stories on Snapchat.
"If we had a sleepover!"
"'A sleepover'?" Lovino echoes from beside her, knitting his brows together.
"Yep!" The Belgian nods, beaming at him. "And, no, crashing at a friend's house because you were drinking too much that night doesn't count."
Lovino frowned at her, clearly offended. "Oh, fuck you."
"Well, it's true!" She argues in the midst of bouts of laughter. "No, seriously guys. It'd be so fun. We can, like, have a movie marathon, order some pizza, and do each other's makeup!"
(Lovino inconspicuously scooted away from her a fraction upon hearing the words 'do each other's makeup'.)
Bella then turns to Lovi and places her hand on his shoulder. "And we can have a few drinks!"
Ah, yes. Alcohol is the incentive if you want Lovino to do anything, ever. That or being Bella Janssens.
Lovino rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah."
"When are we, like, going to sleepover anyway?" Feliks says, momentarily glancing up at Bella before returning majority of his focus to his phone.
She hums in contemplation, bringing the dress down to her lap. "Hmm. How about tonight?"
Lovino raises an eyebrow at her. "Tonight? Really?"
"Yeah, why not?"
"Isn't that, like, too soon or something..?"
"Why, do you have another date with Allistor?"
The question itself was innocent enough, and there was no malice in Bella's tone, yet Lovino couldn't help but find it a tad bit accusing.
"No," Lovino answers quickly, brows knit together.
"Then what's the problem?" Bella asks once more. "Come on, it'll be fun! Sleepovers don't even require that much planning!"
Lovino stares at her long and hard for several seconds before averting his gaze and throwing his hands up in exasperation. "You know what? Fine. I'll go. Whatever."
"Yay!" Bella exclaims, wrapping her arms around his neck. "How 'bout you guys? It'll be so much fun, I'll order lots of takeout!"
That afternoon, Allistor and Lovino went to Starbucks. Allistor ordered his usual caffeine fix of black coffee, whilst Lovino ordered himself a piping hot caramel macchiato. As the two settled themselves in their usual spot— on the plush leather seats by the door, beside the window— the redhead habitually put in five packets of sugar and four creamers, Lovino absentmindedly noted.
"So Lov," Allistor starts, stirring the coffee around. "Ah've got great news! A friend of mine invited me to th' opening of 'is new club tomorrow night!"
"Oh yeah?" Lovino asks, nonchalance in his tone as he languidly poked at the melting whipped cream dissolving into his coffee with the end of his wooden stirrer. "And?"
The Scot's expression turns sheepish, the tops of his cheeks dusted with a light, subtle red. He licks his lips and scoots closer to his Italian before he speaks again. "So Ah were just wondering if… yeh'd like ta come with?"
Ever predictable, Lovino's cheeks begin to redden in the likewise manner as the other's. "So, like—"
"Ah jus' thought it'd be fun for us ta do," Allistor interjects a smidgen too quickly, inadvertently cutting the latter off.
Lovino licks his lips before slowly nodding his head. "Sure! I mean, why not, right?"
"Drinks are on him! Ah forgot ta mention."
"Even better."
Countless bags of Doritos, Cheetos, chips and dips of all kinds covered the hardwood floor of Bella's room as the squad settled in for their impromptu sleepover that night. Bedecked in onesies, Lovino and his friends were busying themselves with preparing the movies, the makeup, and— of course— the drinks.
Lovino and Bella were downstairs, raiding the fridge for drinks. They brought out a few cans of iced tea, a couple of wine coolers, a box of Capri Sun, and even a few cans of beer!
Henri (Bella's younger brother) came down at one point though, probably to grab a bag of trail mix before another one of his hardcore studying sessions. The brunette eyed the older two in the room with disdain as they tried carrying as much of the drinks as they could. Nobody wanted to make another trip down!
"What?" Bella asks, raising an eyebrow at her brother.
Henri shrugs before sauntering over to the pantry, "Nothing, nothing."
Lovino and Bella look at each other for a moment before the latter eventually shrugs it off and smiles at him. "C'mon, let's go up!"
And so, the two jogged up the stairs, glass bottles clinking against each other as they hurried to Bella's bedroom, where everyone else was.
Elizabeta and Michelle were still going through the movies on Bella's hard drive, planning the lineup of their movie marathon while Feliks was in the middle of taking a selfie to upload on his Instagram.
"We're back!" Bella says, kneeling down on the floor so she could carefully set the bottles and cans down.
"Ooh, what'd you guys bring?" Liz asks, turning towards them to look at the drinks. She nods in approval. "Nice. So do we watch movies now or..?"
Bella nods, opening a bag of Doritos. "Yep! What're we watching?"
"Clueless," Michelle says, grinning at the blond.
"Come on," Gil says, giving Antonio a hearty pat on the back. "Cheer up already, Tone! It's a Friday night, live a little! You'll get over him soon enough. You'll see. He isn't even worth your time!"
The corner of Antonio's lip twitches in response, a gleam of annoyance expertly hidden within the depths of his emerald green eyes. He fakes a smile. "Ahaha! Easier said than done. You have to understand, mi amigo, that these types of things aren't exactly… easy to get over."
It is then when Gilbert's expression turns incredulous, practically screaming out, 'Are you fucking kidding me?' Because ironically enough, Antonio's Shifts, more often than not, had the tendency to fizzle to nothing at the drop of a hat.
"When did you become a love guru all of a sudden?" Gilbert can't help but ask, snorting at the very Spaniard that was quick to get over his infatuations; he always had. Lovino should be no different, right?
Antonio smiles faux naïf. "I'm not."
And he wasn't.
"Hey, Bel," Feliks starts, eyes trained on his left foot as he painted his toenails a pristine matte white. "Tell Lovino about your date with yoghurt boy."
Bella stills, blanching at the computer screen before turning to face Feliks, an unreadable expression on her face. In reaction to the Belgian's peculiar silence, Lovino stops texting Allistor for a moment and looks up at her, bemusement on his features. "'Yoghurt boy'?" He echoes.
Her expression sheepish, she smiles at him and chuckles nervously. "Yeah… His name is Aleksander."
"Sounds sketchy."
"He's the guy from Holy Trinity."
"Oh. I remember. 'Yoghurt boy' though?"
"Mhmm." Bella nods slowly. "He's very… fond of frozen yoghurt?"
"That's not the only yoghurt he likes—" Liz pipes up, a smug grin plastered on her face.
"Liz! No!" The Belgian exclaims in pure mortification, covering her face in embarrassment.
"What?" Lovino asks. "The fuck are you two talking about?"
"Well, uh, Aleksander is kinda— uh—" Bella stammers and stumbles on her words, efforts all for naught as Michelle cuts in.
"We all think he's gay." Says the Seychellois bluntly, shrugging her shoulders.
Still, Lovino had yet to piece the two and two together. "So, like, if he's gay, then why did he ask you out on a date?"
"Uh," Bella sighs. "I don't know. I guess I misinterpreted it or something."
"Covert gay," Elizabeta comments. The others concur. "He goes to Holy Trinity after all. Kinda like you back in high school."
The Italian rolls his eyes. "I wasn't covert gay. I never tried to hide jack shit. Maybe it's because no one was ever good enough for me."
Feliks snorted. "Remember when that Gilbert kid got pissed when you turned down his 'awesome date'?"
A sound of aggravation leaves Lovino's lips. "Ugh, I know, right? He's still a prick. Even worse, Feli still talks to him. Fucking gross. After I rejected him, he went after Feliciano instead. So I punched him in the face. Fucker. Anyways, how'd you know he was gay?"
Everyone looks at Bella for several moments before she lets out a resigned sigh. "Oh, alright. Story time. So Aleksander and I are at this restaurant, right? Everything's going okay so far. The Spark's not really there yet— thank God—"
Eliza bursts out laughing.
"But that's fine! We're just chilling, talking. Good vibes. Then, we go grab some froyo after dinner. That's when I started to get this really weird gut feeling that something was totally off about this dude! 'Cause he knows I go to EHU, right? So he starts grilling me, asking if I know this guy from Romania— totally forget his name, ugh— because apparently, he goes to EHU too! You should've seen this guy! He literally would not shut up about him! Like, holy shit, this is like a— like an obsession already! Oh my God!"
Liz, 'Chelle and Feliks were in hysterics now. Dio, what gives? Lovino furrows his brows together. Why were they laughing so hard? It was a date gone bad, right? Was there something he'd missed?
Upon seeing Lovino's confusion amidst teary eyes, Liz wraps her arm around Lovino's shoulders— much to the Italian's irritation— and leant in close. "Do you know why it's so funny?" She asks in between bouts of laughter. "It's 'cause Michelle, Bella and I are the same. We're fag hags. You'd think Bella's gaydar would know a gay guy when she sees one."
Bella rolls her eyes, playfully shoving Liz back. "Oh, shut up, Liz!"
"I got you something," Bella says to Lovino.
They're the only ones awake.
The room is quiet.
The movie marathon had come to an end, and Elizabeta, Feliks and Michelle were all sleeping on either Bella's bed or on the plush pink carpet Bella had rolled out earlier.
"Yeah?" Lovino prompts, staring at the small bottle of Evian he'd poured pink lemonade concentrate in earlier. He twists the cap open and takes another sip from the lukewarm drink before putting the cap back on again.
Bella rummages through her bedside table and pulls a tube out. She hands it over to Lovino, who takes it and eyes it curiously. "The fuck is this?"
The blond smiles. "It's a concealer stick!"
Lovino rolls his eyes. "I know what it is," he traces his thumb underneath the labelling of the Maybelline cosmetic. "Why the hell are you giving this to me?"
"Because hickeys," she says simply, her smile widening into a grin as Lovino's face flushed crimson.
The Vargas twin sputters out an incomprehensible mix of Italian and English, honestly at a loss for words. J-Just— Just first and foremost: why? Just… why? Lovino's hand instinctively flies up to his neck, suddenly all too conscious of the love bites that once adorned his neck… they were gone, right? Surely, they were. He and Allistor haven't… y'know… since the first time they… yeah.
"Oh, don't worry. You don't have any hickeys right now, but…" she continues, expression turning a tad sheepish. "It's so you don't have to wear sweaters and hoodies to school anymore. Especially when it's, like, so hot out. You know how to use it, right? It's just concealer."
Lovino squints at her warily for a moment, then turns his attention to the stick in his hand. "Uh."
She giggles, pulling the cover stick out of his grasp. "Come on, I'll show you how to use it." Bella breaks the safety plastic off of the tube and pops it open. She tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear before scooting closer to him.
"Okay. So pretend that you have a hickey over here," she points at a certain spot on the side of his neck. "You'd have to be in front of a mirror for this, but I'll do it for you just to show you what you should do."
She begins to instruct him on how to use a cover stick. She first brushes Lovino's hair away from his neck and dabs a bit of the concealer right on the spot. He could either blend it in with his fingers or with a sponge, but with a sponge, it'll look more blended. There's also a different type of BB cream, she says, but it comes in a narrow tube and he'd need to dab a small amount on his hand first before applying it onto his skin.
At some point, the two wound up on Bella's balcony, just staring at the vast estate. The cool night air nipped at Lovino's fingers, but other than that, thanks to his onesie, he was pretty warm and toasty, like a fresh bagel from Starbucks. Bella leans over the balcony's railing, a sigh escaping her lips. Lovino initially dismisses it as a sigh of content; at least until Bella sighs again. He turns to face her, quirking an eyebrow up.
"What's wrong?" He asks her.
She shrugs her shoulders, her expression sombre. "I don't know… Stuff, I guess."
He scoots a bit closer to her. "What kind of stuff?"
The Belgian smiles before slowly shaking her head. "A lot. It's just— It's hard, y'know? It's like after all this time, I still have no idea what I want, or who I am anymore."
Lovino furrows his brows together. "What do you mean?"
"I don't know, I— I think I just feel lost. Very, very lost." She says slowly; uncertainly— as if treading upon a walkway of eggshells.
The older Vargas nods in understanding, eyes fluttering shut as he breathed in the fresh air. "It's okay to not know who you are," he begins to rationalise, running his fingers through his hair as he glances back at her. "It's okay— perfectly okay— to not know what you want. Like, life didn't come with a set of instructions. We all pave our own paths in this world. Either that, or live life following the footsteps of another."
A breathless chuckle escapes his lips as he glances down at his arms and tersely shakes his head, as if dispelling all the dangerous thoughts on the verge of fomenting within the recesses of his mind. But it was easier said than done, now that he had begun to think about it.
"And this is coming from me of all people. Me. The kid who has no idea of what'll happen to him—" A shaky exhale. "—after college."
"Hey," Bella says, elbowing him lightly. "You're a really great writer! You'll do great, I swear. When we graduate, I bet you'll be this really famous author or screenwriter. Then you'll make lots and lots of movies and plays. And I'll be acting in them! And Feliks, and Michelle. Maybe Liz can be the one manning the camera."
Lovino manages to recover a façade of nonchalance as he smiles back, albeit it was a rather small one. This was about Bella. He didn't want to make this about him. It was a rarity Bella ever showed sadness, and Lovino wanted to be there for her if and when she needed it. "Hey. I'm the one who's supposed to be doing the cheering up here."
She giggles. "I know."
He snorts. "Well, is it working so far?"
"I'd say it's good enough. You're well on your way there." Bella says, smiling growing a little more wider.
"It's a fucking miracle. This is the first time in forever my social skills haven't completely disappointed someone."
"Ooh, and Allistor?"
Lovino's face reddens.
"What about him? T-This is about you, remember? So don't change the subject, dammit—"
"Sure~"
"Oh, shut up. Let's head to bed, I have so much shit to do tomorrow."
"Mm. I guess we really should—" a yawn. "—turn in. Night, Lovi~"
"Yeah. Goodnight to you too, Bella."
The Black Box was once an abandoned warehouse of sorts. For years, the building remained desolate and decrepit until a recent entrepreneurship graduate of Evergreen Hollows University, a Turk whose name was Sadik Adnan, found opportunity for renascence in the structure, whereas many others had turned it away and deemed it a lost cause for it'd cost too much to have it renovated in the first place. It simply wasn't worth the time, money, or effort.
Sadik, born of an affluent family from a long line of oil barons, had used a sum of his vast wealth in order to purchase the warehouse, as well as the land surrounding it. Shortly after his graduation, he collaborated with an architect who had also graduated from Evergreen Hollows University that same year; an Egyptian named Gupta Muhammad Hassan.
Others had looked upon the risky business choice in disdain; surely Sadik wouldn't have had any trouble in buying a lot in a nightlife hotspot such as New York or California, so why did he decide to open a swanky nightclub in what was generally an uneventful city?
Maybe, perhaps, it was some ingrained impulse within him to do it. He was a risk-taker. He thrived off of gambling over stock and trade in the market, and had a keen eye for business, especially at such a young age. Already, the Turk was a force to be reckoned with, making his own name in the nightlife business and breaking out of the long line of oil barons that have preceded him.
He was quite an eccentric individual; one, more often than not, misunderstood by those who didn't know him very well. Though he is brash or irrational on occasion, and may even come across as a bully of sorts, he is very most often found in good humour, his thundering guffaws once a constant in EHU's hallowed halls.
He had made many friends in the various social circles of the campus; of course, including those in the Performing Arts Department!
Once the renovations for the nightclub of his dreams had reached completion, the very first thing Sadik did was call up and invite all of his friends from his alma mater to come and party with him! Think of it as a reunion of sorts.
Despite the unlikely spot, partly thanks to his family name, word of its grand opening had spread throughout social media circles like wildfire and prompted an influx of B and C-list celebrities to fly over for the opening of the club. There would be press and paparazzi there, which thus meant exposure. Which was good for the new venture! Sadik needed the Black Box to start out strong to ensure that the nightclub would have a place on the maps in the industry.
The Black Box was something of simple design. Some called it innovative. Others called it thoughtful. The rest— especially those who didn't possess such fustian mindsets— called it a no-brainer.
It was fashioned out of a warehouse, and thus, Sadik found it only reasonable for it to be styled after a warehouse. It didn't dawdle or dwell on unnecessary details or décor, when the very structure spoke volumes for itself.
Lovino and Allistor had arrived at the Black Box around eight PM in style. They stepped out of the sleek, black stretch limousine they and a few others from the EHU had rented just for the occasion. Since it was quite an event, a red carpet was rolled out, where several starlets and musicians could be seen either shielding their eyes from the flashes of photographers' cameras, or strutting their stuff. It drew publicity both ways, after all.
Fingers laced, the couple hurriedly made their way to the building whereas majority of their companions opted to soak up their instant fifteen minutes of fame.
Not even halfway down the carpet, Lovino could already hear the bass thumping from outside the building. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he found himself giddy with anticipation.
It wasn't the first time he'd been at a club, but this'd be his first time at a club with someone as a date, which was pretty fucking awesome when you've been drunkenly krumping alone for so long! As soon as they passed the steel double-doors (with scarily intimidating bouncers to match), the music grew louder exponentially, every bass line in the music thumping through the hollow of his chest, sending adrenaline rushing through his veins.
In a flurry of people and flashing strobe lights of all colours, he found himself sitting at one of the tables in the VIP area overlooking the dancefloor. A waiter came by and took their orders, and this guy wearing a mask came around and introduced himself as Sadik Adnan. He lingered for a while, made small talk before excusing himself to greet one of the socialites that had finally come in.
Lovino stares at his apple martini, swirling it around in its glass, absentmindedly nodding his head to the beat of the music. He sings the words under his breath as the others are talking. He is brought out of his reverie when Allistor lightly touches his elbow and smiles at him.
"Lov, yeh wanna dance?" He asks, grinning at his Italian lover.
Lovino smirks before setting his drink down. "I don't see why not."
Together, the couple make their way down to the first floor where the dancefloor has come to life. There's a celebrity DJ from Netherlands manning the turntables, build-up to the bass drop impelling the partygoers to let go of their inhibitions and dance. Same could be said for Lovino, who already finished a mojito prior ordering an apple martini. He could feel the faint edges of a good buzz creeping in, and paired with good vibes, great music and wonderful people, he was in for a night to remember.
Allistor pushed through the crowd, Lovino's hand in his, and led them to the very middle of the dancefloor, where everyone was jumping up and down to the music. Just as the bass drops (Pray to God by Calvin Harris feating HAIM, go figure, right?), the both of them dance along to the music, soaking up the enthusiasm of those around them.
And Lovino can't help but smile, he couldn't help himself from not smiling even if he wanted to. Just being with Allistor made him so— so happy, how could he not? It made him feel like he was whole in a way. Like he could actually be a better person; one better than the callous, capricious prick many others have made him out to be.
Like he wasn't a lost cause.
Like, somehow, Allistor saw something… something good inside of him that made him want to stay. Stick around for a bit.
Like Lovino could actually be this sort of life-changing individual who impacts the lives of others as much as they've impacted his— in a positive way.
It was a terrifying thought; one he, admittedly, was much too hesitant to linger upon lest his fears and paranoia saturate the fabric of his subconscious, self-doubt never too far from the back of his mind.
Truth be told, he had yet to realise that he, too, was deserving of love, patience and compassion; as would any person. That maybe, perhaps, there was more of him to love than he'd originally thought.
Lovino, in the midst of the moment, stops and stares at the person he's grown so fond of. The person he has grown to… sort of love?
Can one really fall in love so quickly?
If so, is it true? Is it pure? Would it be unconditional?
Allistor had finally noticed Lovino staring at him. He turns to the Italian and smiles, brazenly pulling him in for a passionate kiss. Then he says something to him, but Lovino can't really hear. The music's too loud. They're in the middle of the fucking dancefloor, for fuck's sake.
"What?!" Lovino yells over the music.
Allistor laughs before yelling back in response. "Let's sit this one out!"
Lovino nods and laces his fingers. It's when he finally takes notice of how sweaty the both of them are. The back of his shirt's soaked with sweat, and so is Allistor's. The black shirt is clinging the Scotsman's torso in all the right places. The Italian's cheeks are tinged red as he looks away, biting his bottom lip.
They make their way to the stairs winding up, back to the VIP area, but choose to sit at a separate table instead of with Allistor's friends. Allistor is leaning back against the plush leather seats, trying to catch his breath as he stares at the dancefloor below them.
Lovino glances around for a waiter, but all of them are occupied with catering the other VIPs, so he turns to Allistor and asks him. "Want anything to drink?"
Allistor looks at him and smiles. "Sure. What do yeh want me ta get, Lov?"
Lovino rolls his eyes. "Don't sweat yourself. I'll get us something to drink."
"Ah'll 'ave a whiskey on th' rocks then, Lov." A grateful smile graces the Scots lips as he leans in quick to peck the corner of Lovino's mouth before ensconcing himself further into the seats.
Albeit a bit flustered, Lovino jogs back down to the ground floor, where the bars were. There were two bars occupying either side of the Black Box, where there was a stage for performances up front and the dancefloor smack dab in the middle.
The Italian weaves his way through the crowd surrounding the bar nearest him and sees a bartender preparing a long line of drinks, yet no one was taking any.
He put on an easy-going smile and approached her. "Hey," he greeted, staring at the line of pub glasses in a silent sort of amazement.
The bartender glances up and beams at him, red dusting the tops of her cheeks. God, he is so hot. "Hi!"
He motioned to the long train of drinks, "If you don't mind me asking, bella, what're you doing exactly?"
The brunette licks her lips and gives him a coy smile. "It's a Jäger train~. For entertainment's sake!"
Immediately, Lovino's eyes widen in recognition. "Oh my God, that's so cool! I've always wanted to set off one of those!"
"Oh?" The girl asks, internally swooning with how happy he looked. Unf. She pours in the last shot of Jägermeister and precariously places it on the rim between a glass of red bull and an empty glass.
There are lots of people crowding around the bar now. It's a train of about fifty Jägerbombs, so it's quite a spectacle to soon behold. Truth be told, the bartender was to trigger it herself, but with such a cute guy (was he Italian?! He sounds like it? Oh God, a hot Italian guy—) talking to her, she might as well let him set it off, right?
And the way his eyes lit up when he found out it was a Jäger train! Freaking adorable.
Just as Lovino stands back to stare at the train, she beckons him over. "You wanna help me set it off?"
The Italian's eyes widen in disbelief. "What? You serious?"
She smirks, languidly leaning over the bar and winking at him. "Like a heart attack!" She motions him forward and Lovino automatically leans in close.
"Alright," she says, "So you just gently push this glass to set off the Jägerbombs." She places her hand atop his and guides it to the last shot glass she poured. "You ready?"
Lovino beams at her. "Yeah!"
"Alright! Let's do this! One, two, three—"
The Italian's heart is rapidly beating against his chest as he slowly— but steadily— pushes the shot glass over the edge. The glass eventually topples over and falls into the first glass with the red bull. It starts a chain reaction too quickly for his eyes to follow, or his mind to comprehend, but it dazzles him nonetheless. As the shots fall into the glasses one by one, the Jägermeister fizzles into the red bull.
He laughs and turns to the bartender, awestruck wonder still evident on his expression. "God, that is so cool. I'm Lovino, by the way."
The bartender giggles. "Jamie."
Lovino plucks off one of the Jägerbombs and takes a sip. "Jamie," He says experimentally, name rolling off his tongue. "I'll have a whiskey on the rocks, please."
Jamie smirks at him. "One whiskey coming right up!"
She grabs a glass and fills it with a couple ice cubes, then pours the whiskey in. She slides it over to him when she's done, along with her number written on a slip of paper. "Lovino. Call me sometime," she says, fingertips brushing against his hand.
Lovino laughs (but he may or may not be internally panicking inside) before taking the drink as well as the slip of paper. "But of course, beautiful."
As soon as Lovino loses himself in the crowd once again, he hurries back up to where Allistor is, waiting for him.
"Sorry I took so long," he says awkwardly, expression sheepish as he hands the Scotsman his drink. He sidles right next to Allistor, the latter automatically wrapping his arm around Lovino's waist as he pulled his inamorato in close.
"S'all good, Lov," Allistor reassures, nuzzling his neck.
By the end of the night (or maybe the beginning of the day?), to say that Lovino and Allistor are drunk would be an understatement. Aptly put, they were downright sloshed. Like, fuck, just going down the fucking stairs took them God knows how long. Lovino was pretty sure he was dying.
And if he wasn't, he was pretty sure he would've tumbled down the winding staircase and drag Allistor with him to their deaths.
Everything… There was just so much of everything. Too many stairs, goddammit, and which handrail is the real one? Why does it have to move like that? What's the thing's fucking problem? Why won't it stay fucking still?!
In the end, two of the waiters had to usher the couple down the stairs— safely— and direct them to the entrance of the Black Box.
The cool night air nipped at their skin as Lovino got on his knees before sitting on the floor, cradling his head in his hands. Allistor had managed to not lose his phone, and drunkenly fumbled around with the passcode lock on his phone for a few moments.
"Ah'll go 'ome wif yeh, yeah?" The redhead slurs, patting Lovino's head before inadvertently stumbling on his boyfriend. Luckily, he catches his balance and successfully grabs an Uber taxi.
Lovino yawns, leaning his head against Allistor's leg.
"Lov, don't fall asleep on me," Allistor slurs, his words turning into a drunken, incomprehensible mess.
Lovino says something unintelligible back, eyelids leaden with the need for sleep. Allistor drops to his knees beside Lovino, grabbing his boyfriend's shoulders.
"Stay awake. We're going 'ome. Ah don't know yer address. We might get lost!"
"Lost?!" Lovino slurs, eyes still shut. "No, I don't wanna get lost, dammit—"
"Then yeh need ta stay awake—"
Lovino cuts the redhead off, wrapping his arm around Allistor's shoulders and leaning all his weight on him. "Shhh," he shushes, clumsily raising a finger to the redhead's lips. "Can I tell you a secret?" He whispers loudly.
Allistor laughs, steadying the both of them lest they topple over. "Yeh can tell me anyfink, Lov,"
Lovino leans in close, close enough that Allistor can feel their breaths mingling together. Their breaths smelt of alcohol, but that's alright! Lovino cups a hand around his mouth and whispers loudly once more, "I think I want french fries. Ugh! From Mc— from McDon— from Mickey D's~ With a side of chicken nuggets!"
Allistor laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Ah've got a secret too! Do yeh want ta know wha' it is, luv?"
Lovino grabs the collar the Scotsman's shirt, twisting the fabric and pulling him in. Lovino's eyes are bloodshot and wide with curiosity. "Tell me," he demands, but his body is swaying to the call of sleep.
Allistor pulls his arm away from Lovino's waist and cups the Italian's cheeks, smooshing them together. He leans in close, expression serious for someone so intoxicated. "Ah fink Ah love yeh."
Lovino stares at him blankly for a few moments before his eyes widen in shock, a gasp leaving his lips. "Whoa!" He cups Allistor's cheeks. "You love me? I love you too! Whoa! Crazy shit, man,"
Allistor is giddy and drunk, and nearly bursting with joy. He leans in and presses his lips against Lovino's pulling him in. Just as Lovino is reciprocating the drunken Scotsman's perfervid affections, the black Uber rolls up in front of them.
The redhead pulls away, eyes trained on the car. "Lov! Th' cab is 'ere!" He hurriedly tries to stand up, only to stumble on his feet. He grabs onto Lovino's head for support (who's still in a daze, sitting on the ground). It takes the couple a few moments to get their shit together (help from the driver included), but they manage to get themselves into the car.
All the malarkey about Allistor telling Lovino to stay awake seems all for naught since the couple pass out only minutes later. The driver takes them straight to EHU, the original destination Allistor had punched in and paid the fare for.
When the couple are roused from their slumber, they stumble out of the car and out on the sidewalk right in front of the vast campus. The tall black gates are closed for the night already, preventing anyone from getting in.
"Why are we in school?" Lovino whines, pointing at the gates.
"Ah don't know," says Allistor, too lost to think up of what to say himself.
Lovino manages to strengthen his resolve, stomping his foot on the ground. "Alright! We're gonna Johnnie Walker this shit!"
"Yeah!" Allistor cheers, pumping a fist in the air.
"After all, it's just a five-minute walk. How hard can it be?"
The five-minute walk had lapsed into twenty-five as they lost their bearings for a good ten minutes and just sat on the pavement for a while. In actuality, all they had to do was walk straight, but with their sense of direction muddled up with alcohol, they wandered aimlessly several times throughout their way back home.
Lovino and Allistor finally manage to stumble past the doors of the Vargas brothers' apartment building, past the dozing guard and to the elevators. Lovino could feel his vision fading in and out, pretty damn sure he'd pass out as soon as he got in the apartment.
And by 'as soon as he got in the apartment', he meant halfway into the elevator. Allistor had managed to catch his boyfriend in time, though, and held onto him with a vice-like grip lest Lovino slip out of his arms like Jell-O. He's half-dragging Lovino by the time he, too, drags himself out of the elevator, running on nothing but pure will to get to the penthouse waiting for them at the end of the hall.
The redhead thumps his fist weakly against the door before feeling up the wall for the doorbell. Upon finding it, he presses it several times in a row before hoisting Lovino's unconscious body back up in his arms for a better grip.
Within minutes, the door is open and Feliciano is staring at them with an undecipherable expression on his face— or was that disappointment?— before his expression soon turns into concern, helping Allistor bring Lovino in.
They manage to bring him all the way to the couch in the living room where Allistor, without hesitation (he's too drunk to do such things), flops right beside his boyfriend, nearly crushing him, much to the younger Vargas' chagrin.
"Y-You know you can sleep in Lovi's bedroom, right?!" Feliciano is quick to say, but Allistor doesn't pay him any heed in favour of snuggling up to the passed out Italian and falling fast asleep himself.
Feliciano smiles at them for a few moments before grabbing an extra blanket from one of the cupboards and spreading over them. Ah. It seems that both fratello and his boyfriend are sloppy drunks. Wonderful~. Well, at least Lovi was back home safe and sound, right? So that's all that matters.
With that, he, too, turned in for the night.
Before Lovino knew it, Monday morning had come around.
There was a buzz in the campus; the Performing Arts Department, specifically. The students were awash with anticipation, a furore of excitement amongst the different students under the department as news came about of the upcoming exposure trip in November.
This semester's chosen destination?
New York.
Translations:
nonno - grandfather (It.)
fratello - brother (It.)
ciao - hello (It.)
per l'amore di Dio - for the love of God (It.)
Dio - God (It.)
bella - beautiful (It.)
Hello everyone! I'm very sorry for such a long hiatus, and I'll explain to you all now what had transpired during my absence.
As stated in the previous chapter, I had a nervous breakdown regarding the old content in my diary. I was in a mentally vulnerable state then; and coincidentally, I had just gotten into roleplaying. Since I was new to it all, I had viewed RPs as something akin my stories. So I poured my all into roleplays. That was my first mistake.
Being a writer, even though what I create is a thing of fiction, a figment of my imagination, it was all very real to me. I practically slam-dunked my mental health into the gutter just to really channel depressed!Antonio. I write for others to feel, and in order to do that, I have a tendency to put myself into the shoes of whomever character I was in the midst of writing. No matter what the repercussions would be.
I wound up getting attached to this one particular person and their muse; I, too, had confused my own feelings and emotions for my muse's. And he got hurt emotionally a lot. He was in a relationship where his partner would only ever cheat on him (ho hey one-sided 'polyamory'), manipulation and emotional abuse aside, and I felt like no matter what I did, my muse and I were— and never would be, good enough.
Obviously, things had gone terribly awry. It worsened my mental health. I was also very angry and bitter and so anguished, I absolutely hated myself. I was, admittedly, a pushover. I was hesitant to confront that person and speak up about it. So I let it continue and it continued to hurt me. That was my second mistake.
This went on for weeks and weeks, continually plaguing my thoughts. It left me restless at night; miserable when I was awake. And finally, at one point, it finally hit me that I had to detach myself from that person lest I wind up falling apart completely.
So I did.
It had culminated into a vicious cycle, however, when I went out of my way to patch things up with that person. Whatever fucked up 'friendship' we had, it was tearing at the seams, and no matter how hard I tried to mend it, it always wound up falling apart completely. It happened again with another admin, and that was the straw that broke the camel's back.
I felt so very worthless, used and unappreciated (then again, I was roleplaying APH Portugal); I felt cornered. Like I had no escape.
So in the end, I decided to stop RPing once and for all. It seemed impossible at the time, but I made it. I completely severed myself from anything RP-related. Thinking about it still pisses me off sometimes. I know I'm still bitter about it, and it hurts from time to time. But I'm not sure if it's just me feeling insulted because I was never appreciated there. My blood still runs cold when I see Antonio's name wherever. I kinda really hate him now. But I have to remember it was that person who bastardised my perception of Antonio as a respectable and decent human being.
That and 2P!America when his name is… I don't even want to mention it lol. I'm okay with the name Allen/Allan though.
Somehow, I think it was necessary for me to go through all that fucking bullshit and seemingly endless suffering in order to get over my relapse regarding the content in my journal.
So yeah. That was why it took me so long to get back up on my feet again. I had lost my hold on my writing style and I've been kinda lost ever since.
Also, a few things I felt was necessary to clarify:
This is an eventual Spamano. No amount of favour for Scotmano— however I may love the ship I've sailed— will change that. But if you guys really want it, I can write fanfiction for Scotmano! I even have a few ideas for it already!
b. Yes, Lovino will still do the bucketlist. I have not deviated from the plot. Just let me work my magic, okay? Lovino completed something in this chapter, even! Who can tell what it was?
c. I've stated this in ch. 4's A/N, and I will reiterate it again. This fanfiction will have a long-running plot that spans over 3-4 years. It'll take some time for everything to unfold, yes, but I can assure you; it'll be quite worth it.
On a lighter note, thank you all so much for the feedback! I'm glad to know that Antonio was relatively IC. I'm always open to constructive criticism, so if there's anything off, then feel free to tell me! I'm sorry if reading this chapter was such a chore. I really was at a loss as to what to do, and this isn't my best work.
Thank you to all the people who were concerned about me. I'm really glad you cared. At this point in time, I'm pretty sure I'm over it. But I kinda lost my writing mojo as a result of that. I know something in my writing died the moment I started getting into this RPing malarkey, so I hope you'll all be patient with me while I gather my bearings once more. Word of advice? Getting into roleplaying is not advised for people who already have a good grip on their characters' characterisations.
But then again, that's just me.
Review, please? I could really, really use lots of reassurance right now, to be honest.
~jellydonut16~
P.S. Friendly reminder that what Antonio is feeling right now is just infatuation.
P.P.S. Also! Yeah. Portmanospa. My OT3. I have 2 fics in the making for that, actually, but I'm not sure if it'll reach fruition. I haven't finished the first chapter for either, but I've got bulk of the plot laid down already. One is a dramatic medieval AU of sorts, while the other is a high school AU that has lots and lots of sex. Yes, good.
P.P.P.S. Anyone notice any inconsistencies between Gilbert and Lovino's stories?