Antonio walked into the coffee shop the next day and threw a parcel down on the counter, startling Lovino.
"Here's a new set of clothes," he said, and then added, grinning, "Plus a skirt and two pairs of lacy panties."
"N-No, it's not- not like that!" Lovino stuttered, red-faced. "Feli just needed a girl to paint, and he didn't know any- don't look at me like that, he promised me he'd buy me fresh tomatoes!"
"So you dressed in drag for tomatoes?" Antonio chuckled.
"No! Well, yes- but-"
"It's fine," Antonio waved his hand lazily, still giggling a bit. "I'm teasing you."
"I- I knew that! I was just… playing along!" Under Antonio's sarcastic gaze, Lovino quailed. "Just give me the damn package," he grumbled and grabbed it, tugging it from Antonio's hands. As Lovino took the parcel, Antonio leaned forward and asked quietly so that no other customers could hear,
"Are you homeless?"
Lovino started, his face flooding with color as he took a hasty step back.
"W-Wha..?" he stammered. "Of course not! I live in a tene-"
"Yeah, about that," Antonio said. "I researched it, and there are no tenement buildings in this town, or any of the surrounding towns or districts, and there never were. So I went and checked out behind the adult video store, like you said, and there was nothing there except for a homeless shelter."
"You had no right!"
"Maybe not." Antonio shrugged. "But I wanted to know."
"You fucking asshole! I can't believe you did that!"
"Why didn't you tell me? I could have helped-"
"Because it's none of your fucking business where I sleep! It has nothing to do with you! Why would you do that- I-" Lovino brought his hands to his head, grabbing onto his hair as he began to pace in circles.
"Were you embarrassed? Because I do-" Antonio tried to say, but Lovino stopped dead and swiveled around to face Antonio, slamming his hands palm down on the counter with a large thud, leaning forward so close to him that their noses were almost touching.
"Don't tell Feli," he said, quiet but deathly serious, almost menacing. "He'll freak."
"I- I won't, I promise!" Antonio insisted, taking a step backwards and holding up his hands defensively. Lovino's lip curled as he stared Antonio down for what seemed like years until he finally growled,
"Get out."
Antonio didn't need to be warned twice.
Lovino finished stacking the chairs on the tables and sighed, wiping his brow before grabbing the mop and starting to clean the floor. He heard a knock on the window and looked up, expecting some poor bird had flown into the glass, but instead he saw Antonio standing outside, waving slightly, a guilty expression across his face. Lovino let out a scornful breath and returned to his cleaning, turning his back on Antonio, but in a couple seconds another knock resounded and Lovino, annoyed, turned back around.
Antonio was holding up a piece of paper torn from his notebook, pressed against the glass. Scrawled across it in big black letters was the word 'SORRY.' Lovino scoffed and once more looked away, but he had barely touched the mop to the floor when he heard another knock.
'CAN WE TALK?' the paper read. Lovino raised his middle finger in response and returned to his mopping. The knocking continued, getting more and more frequent and frenzied, and though Lovino tried his best to ignore it, after a while it became so insistent that he dropped his mop and marched over to the door, unlocking it and allowing Antonio in.
"What," he said in a still tone, picking up his mop again.
"Sorry about earlier," Antonio apologized. "I shouldn't have pried."
"No, you shouldn't."
"But I still don't understand something- why didn't you just stay with Feliciano in his dorm?"
Lovino sighed, straightening his back with a crack and righting his mop, resting an arm on the top. "I did, for a while," he explained wearily. "But after around a month, I got found out and was kicked out. I'm not allowed back in the dorms."
"That sucks." Antonio thrust his hands in his pockets uncomfortably, not sure what to do or say. "I'm sorry."
"Not your fault," Lovino mumbled, starting to mop again, painting the dirty floor with white streaks of water and suds. "Besides, I was getting sick of staying there anyway. Feli and his stupid roommate kept flirting and… other things. So I wandered around for a bit until I found the shelter, and I've been there since."
"When you're done, can you take me there? To the shelter? I want to see what it's like."
"Why should I?" Lovino thrust the mop forward so hard he fell off balance and nearly slipped on the wet floor. His face red, he quickly righted himself.
"If you don't, I'll probably go check it out by myself, and it would make more sense for us to go together," Antonio explained.
Lovino scowled. "Fine," he said, though obviously not happy about it. "But this doesn't mean I forgive you."
"Naturally. How are your burns?"
Lovino squinted at him, trying to suss out any ulterior meanings to the statement, but found nothing.
"Fine," he mumbled.
"That's good," said Antonio cheerily. "Does it still hurt?"
Keeping his face turned away, Lovino answered, "Not really."
"Good," Antonio said cordially. Despite Lovino's anger, he was for some reason in a good mood, perhaps for finally deciphering one of the enigmas that surrounded Lovino's wane existence.
Lovino finished up cleaning as Antonio watched silently, then finally tossed his mop aside, threw on a sweatshirt, and led Antonio outside, locking up the shop.
Antonio followed Lovino through the alley, checking all around him as he emerged, making sure no one had followed him or Lovino. He was still a little paranoid after Lovino had gotten attacked that one night.
"You coming or not?" Lovino called over his shoulder as he trudged forward. Antonio quickly hurried to his side.
"Right, sorry," he apologized, watching the ground as he walked, making a roster of all the garbage he saw by the side of the road. Condoms: 3, 2 of which were used; soda cans: 13; flyers, pamphlets, and other handouts: 18; gum wrappers/gum: 14; beer bottles/cans: 21; plastic sandwich bags, one of which was filled with a dubious white powder: 16; two water bottles filled with some unidentified liquid that looked awfully like human piss; newspapers: 5...
Finally Lovino stopped and Antonio did too, lifting his head to see Lovino walk into the shelter ahead of him. Lovino stopped at a desk and signed something, then leaned forward and opened his mouth. The person at the desk brought a small device to Lovino's open mouth and Antonio realized it was a Breathalyzer. Then the person shone a light into Lovino's eyes, probably to check if he was high or not. Antonio came over slowly to Lovino, opening his mouth to speak, but in an instant the person at the desk had grabbed his jaw and brought it forward, using the Breathalyzer. Antonio felt a painful light in his eyes and then it was done. He stepped back thankfully, preparing to leave, but the person at the desk asked harshly,
"Any criminal record?"
"N-No," Antonio stammered. "Once when I was eight I accidentally broke a window with my baseball…" Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lovino roll his eyes.
"Pedophilia? Sexual assault?"
"No- I would never-!"
"He's safe," Lovino groaned, annoyed. "Just a guest." He grabbed Antonio's arm and pulled him away.
"No sex in the shelter!" the person called after them.
"As if!" Lovino shouted back, tugging Antonio around a corner until the person was out of earshot. He lead Antonio into a long, narrow room that Antonio would have taken for a hallway if it wasn't for the rows and rows of bunk beds lining each wall. There were as much as four beds stacked onto each other, reaching up to the ceiling, and Antonio stood, gazing at the sight in awe, but Lovino continued tugging him and he lurched forward, stumbling after Lovino. A strong smell of mildew permeated through the whole place, and the paint on the walls was peeling off, the wood underneath rotting from the damp. Buckets and bowls were placed higgledy-piggledy all across the floor, halfway full, and if you waited you could hear the drops of water into the buckets.
Lovino brought him to a stack of bunkbeds and climbed up onto his, the second one, laying down flat on his back, arms behind his head because it wasn't high enough to sit on properly. Antonio joined him, a little wary, glancing at Lovino before laying down next to him.
There was a little shelf above where Lovino's feet would be, and on it was a small pile of neatly folded clothes, a simple cross leaning against the back of the bed, and a stack of English language books. Taped to the bottom of the bed on top of Lovino were lots and lots of photographs: A younger Lovino, Feliciano, and an old man whom Antonio took to be their grandfather; rows upon rows upon rows of grapes; postcards in Italian signed by Feliciano, writing side facing Lovino, print-outs of his brother's art, and a more recent photo of a sickly old man, the same one who seemed to be Lovino's grandfather.
"What's this?" Antonio asked, his arm lifting up and touching a thin piece of paper that looked as if it had been torn out of a book. Squinting at it, he realized that it was a page from the Bible, and it was similar enough to Spanish that he could sort of decipher it.
It was the familiar 'thou shall not lie with a man as you would a woman, for it is despicable' bit, and he frowned.
"You shouldn't have this," he commented. Lovino turned his head so Antonio couldn't see his face.
"So what if I do?" he mumbled, his voice muffled because his face was buried in his arm.
"It's not healthy," Antonio said. "It's important to have a positive attitude towards your sexuality."
"I- I'm not gay!" Lovino spluttered loudly. "I like br- breastses and vaginas!" He looked faintly nauseous as he said this, his pallor slightly green.
Antonio laughed. "You just keep telling yourself that," he chuckled, patting the top of Lovino's head.
"Don't belittle me!" Lovino yelled.
"I just want you to see that there's nothing wrong with you."
"There is nothing wrong with me, because I'm not gay!" Lovino insisted.
"If you keep denying it, it'll hurt more."
"You can't deny something that doesn't exist to begin with!"
Antonio sighed. "Alright, Mr. Straight-Man." He lifted his torso a little bit and scratched his stomach, allowing his shirt to ride up a little bit, revealing his abs. He yawned, flexing, and then peeked at Lovino out of the corner of his eye, grinning as he saw Lovino gawk at him, his face bright red. He lay back down, laughing slightly as he saw Lovino realize what Antonio had done, his face growing even redder until he quickly rolled over onto his side, facing away from Antonio.
"Still feeling straight?" Antonio chuckled.
"I hate you," Lovino huffed angrily.
"Really? Because your face is awfully red," Antonio teased. He rolled over as well, his stomach pressed up against Lovino's back. He attempted to slip an arm over Lovino, but he swatted his hand away as if he already knew what Antonio was planning.
"You're breathing down my neck," Lovino complained, his ears red. "Get off."
"Oh. Okay." A little disappointed, Antonio backed off.
Lovino closed his eyes, relieved, and let himself relax. He could feel his heart practically thumping out of his chest and he wondered if Antonio could hear it too, the rhythm pulsing through his whole body. Yet even though he could no longer feel Antonio against him, sending heated electricity throughout his entire body, swirling in his stomach and chest until he felt almost ill with something he couldn't identify, his breathing and heart rate didn't slow- just Antonio being near him now was enough to make him feel like he was going crazy.
And Antonio knew now, he knew what Lovino was, and where he lived, or didn't live- he knew practically everything! And yet he was still here, inches away from Lovino, in his bed, for fuck's sake, looking up at the scraps of Lovino reflected in pictures and letters and paintings, practically seeing into Lovino, the good and the bad and the uncomfortable churning of emotions without names that stewed inside of him everytime he so much as caught a whiff of the mixed smells that spelled Antonio; the smell of crayons and freshly mowed grass and, for the strange reason that Lovino had never gotten the nerve to ask Antonio about, tomatoes.
"Lovi?" Antonio's voice startled Lovino and he took a quick sudden breath, feeling his heart leap and his shoulders jump in surprise. And god, Antonio's voice, so smooth and deep and comforting, and the way he said Lovino's name, with the lilting Spanish accent that softened the 'l' and 'o' just enticed Lovino to the point that he was practically hanging off Antonio's every stupid word, every bad joke, despite how much he hated himself for it. He loved when Antonio shortened his name to Lovi, how he lingered on the 'i' at the end a bit and let it last and mingle in the air. If anyone else had called him that, he would have bared his teeth and attacked, but when Antonio said it, Lovino could feel all his defenses melting away.
"Sorry, did I startle you?"
"N-No, it's alright." Why was he being so complacent, damn it? He had to say something to let Antonio know he wasn't freaking out at the mere thought that Antonio was less than a foot away from him.
"Bastard," he added quickly. Yes. That was better.
Antonio laughed and Lovino felt his stomach flip- what had he done? What was so funny? Was Antonio laughing at him? And why did he care so much?
"Stop laughing!" He hoped Antonio hadn't detected the little quiver in his voice. "What's so fucking funny? You're shaking the bed!"
"Sorry, you're just.." Antonio wiped a tear from his eye, "You're just really cute."
Oh. Lovino couldn't stop the little gasp that escaped his carefully guarded lips. He wondered if Antonio could hear his heart speed up as well, so much it almost hurt. He clutched his chest through his shirt, willing it to slow, to quiet, but of course there was no stopping now.
"You're kinda quiet tonight. Is something wrong?"
A note of panic rang through Lovino's whole body. Could Antonio tell? Could he see how much he was affecting Lovino, how he was causing Lovino's whole body and mind to stray from the carefully calculated path he had set for himself in order to get through life without feeling too much, without having to get close to anyone in the way he was now with Antonio?
"Lovi?" There he went again, with that stupid nickname- it was stupid, Lovino told himself, inane, and he absolutely did not like it when Antonio called him that, he did not feel his stomach jump into his goddamn throat whenever Antonio ended his name in that premature fashion that made his brain tick in the wrong direction and oh god Lovino could feel him- Antonio was touching his arm- lightly, barely enough to be felt by anyone else, but of course Lovino had to feel a wave of desire mixed with something else he couldn't place roll through his entire fucking body…
"Don't touch me." Lovino surprised even himself. He forced himself to continue, even though every inch of him was aching, yearning for more, for Antonio to call his name and touch him in places Lovino had never even touched himself…
"Don't touch me. Don't talk to me. Don't say my name. Don't stand close to me. Don't even fucking breathe near me!" Lovino could hear his voice raise in pitch and volume as he tried futilely to convince not only Antonio but also himself that he wasn't interested, that he didn't like Antonio in the slightest.
"Then I guess I'll go." Antonio unwillingly scooted himself off the bed and started to walk away. He paused, opening his mouth, but decided that if Lovino wanted him to go, he'd go.
Lovino's heart didn't slow down to its previous state until an hour after he had listened to Antonio's fading footsteps, relieved but yet also disappointed. He closed his eyes again, telling himself that this was for the best.
But then why didn't it feel like that?