Hola!
So, this is sort of a spamano oneshot, I felt that I had written far too little about this wonderful pairing!
It's about the ice-bucket challenge, as you can figure by the name. I thought it was a rather current topic, so it would be fitting to write about. It's a little silly and probably contains grammar errors, but I thought I wanted to share with the world my headcanon of Spain's really bad taste in fashion.
Enjoy, and R&R!
The ice-bucket challenge
By: OwlPenguin
-x-
"This is all your fault, Spaniard." Lovino growled under his breath, sending glares of death towards the laughing bastard holding the bucket full of ice way too close for Lovino to relax
"Oh, come on! It's for a good cause after all."
"Yeah, yeah."
"Ready?" Lovino nodded, and Antonio pressed the little red play button on the camera set up before Lovino. He took a deep breath and looked into the lens.
"I'm Lovino Vargas and I was nominated to the ice-bucket challenge by Antonio Fernandez Carriedo." He blushed slightly, hoping Antonio wouldn't notice how easily he pronounced his name nowadays. "Alright here goes nothing."
It all went faster than he'd ever expect, and still the world appeared to go in slow motion as he caught a glimpse of Antonio's evil smirk when he lifted the bucket over his head, tipping it over Lovino. The icy cold water hit his hair and his shoulders, and Lovino yelped from the freezing sensation spreading throughout his body.
"Aaaah!" he jumped slightly up and down on the ground, trying not to scream from the cold pain. "I nominate Feliciano Vargas, the potato bastard and the French bastard!"
He heard a click as Antonio turned off the camera, and he shrugged his head, trying to see something through his wet bangs covering his face. He felt Antonio embrace him with a warm towel, hugging him tightly.
"That was fantastic, Lovi! You did great!"
Lovino was shaking too much to scowl or respond with something snappy, so he nodded and even let Antonio kiss his forehead. Unfortunately he felt his face redden, so he quickly turned his face down.
"D-do you h-h-have any c-clothes-s I can b-borrow?" he stuttered out. Antonio snickered.
"Of course Lovino. Just drop off the wet ones in the bathroom and take whatever you like from the wardrobe in my room."
He nodded and twisted himself out of the Spaniards arms, steering his steps indoors. As he closed the bathroom door behind him he heard the faint footsteps of Antonio fade into the kitchen. He managed to pull off all the wet clothes, and dropped them with a loud splash into a pile on the floor. I might just as well take a shower while I'm here, he thought with a shiver.
-x-
After probably the nicest shower he'd ever had in a very long time, he reluctantly stepped out and grabbed a towel. He dried his hair slightly, and then wrapped it around his waist. His hair was still dripping slightly when he sneaked out of the bathroom, but he couldn't be bothered with it. He checked all around for any signs of the Spaniard, and the area seemed clear. He tiptoed discreetly through the living room towards the bedroom, holding on tightly to the towel. He'd probably die right on the spot out of embarrassment if he dropped it.
He reached the bedroom safely, and closed the door. He presumed Antonio was still in the kitchen, probably stuffing himself with tomatoes. That bastard.
The room was relatively big, sunny, and incredibly messy.
The bed wasn't made, the sheets were a tangled mess at the bottom of the bed, and two of the four pillows were on the floor, with a pile of old clothes lying stacked right next to them. The curtains were half covering the windows, letting only half of the possible sunlight streaming in. The bedside table was overflowing with things, god knows what, and the mirror on the wall was dirty.
Lovino slowly made his way towards the shabby, old wardrobe, somehow not expecting to find anything less than the room he was standing in. He was almost right.
Yes, everything was indeed in a mess. But at least, the clothes were sorted into piles such as pants, shirts, socks, underpants, and so on. Some shirts hung on hangers from the metal bar in the middle of the wardrobe, but most items were stuffed into the shelves.
Lovino started rummaging through the clothes, almost instantly recoiling at the lack of taste the Spaniard had. Of course, there were exceptions, but most of these clothes Lovino wouldn't consider wearing even if he was homeless.
"Bastard," he muttered, continuing his search for something acceptable to wear. The scent of Antonio was obvious everywhere, enveloped him, and made him dizzy. He finally found a pair of plain jeans, who were too big of course, but acceptable. He matched it with a plain red shirt, which was also acceptable. Well, to be honest most clothes Antonio possessed were absolutely hideous. He apparently had no sense of fashion whatsoever.
Finally, for some underwear. Most of them were as expected also righteously placed under the category 'horrific', but he found a pair that almost brought a smile to his lips. It was a pair of grey underpants, with the rim coloured in red and yellow, looking like the Spanish flag. He snorted before closing the doors to the wardrobe.
He dropped the towel to the floor, almost thankful for the dirty mirror that was nearly impossible to be reflected in. He put on the clothes, noticing only then that the pants were way bigger than he thought. Oh, well isn't this typical? He thought as he put back the pants in the wardrobe, finding himself wearing only underpants and an enormous t-shirt.
-x-
"Lovi? You done yet? I made some uh-"Antonio's words trailed off as Lovino appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. His hair was still sort of wet and laid flat against his head, except of course for his curl. His legs were bare, he only wore an oversized t-shirt with obviously a pair of underpants. Antonio bit his lip unconsciously, suddenly feeling lightheaded.
"Eh, Lovino, you forgot your pants!" he said jokingly, trying to brush off the sudden nervousness. Lovino snorted and folded his arms.
"They were too big."
"Ah." He nodded in understanding, he was a bit taller than Lovino. "Tomato soup?"
They sat down at the table to eat the soup which, to Antonio's joy, Lovino ate in a matter of seconds. He still looked frozen, shivering slightly as he curled up on the kitchen chair.
"Lovi? Do you feel tired?" Lovino turned his head up slightly, nodding slowly. Antonio couldn't help but smirk a little. He stood up and walked over to Lovino, who looked slightly terrified, and without resonance he folded his arms around him and picked him up, throwing him over the shoulder.
"What are you- let me down, you bastard!"
Antonio laughed and held him tighter, not letting him escape. He started walking off, completely ignoring Lovino's curses.
"You're fucking crazy, you know that!"
"I know, but so are you my dear Lovi! That's why we are so perfect for each other!"
He could almost hear Lovino blush and snickered as he threw him down on the bed, straddling him so he wouldn't escape. Lovino fought for a moment, but quickly gave up. He laid himself down flat and scowled at Antonio. "Now what?"
"Now we cuddle."
"But I don't want-"
"Shush, yes you do."
He actually silenced at this, and when Antonio got off him he didn't try to fight it, he let him hold him. He smiled contently against his hair. "Isn't this nicer than struggling?"
He merely muttered at this, but Antonio smiled wider in the realisation that he was right. He turned up Lovino's face to his and was actually given the permission to give him a kiss. He chuckled and gave him an eskimo-kiss, making Lovino blush deeply.
"You're so cute when you blush." He tried to turn away but Antonio caught him in the motion. "No, but you're still cold."
Lovino smirked. "Well then, isn't there anything you can do for me to stop freezing?"
"Is that an invitation?" he said and mirrored his mischievous smirk.
"If you have to ask…"
It all turned out to be a much nicer afternoon than Lovino had expected.