Now, however, failure was not an option.
"FRANCIS!"
The blonde man, who had been feigning deafness for the past minute, finally turned to acknowledge Lovino's bestial bellow. Smiling pleasantly, he sauntered over to the younger man and offered his cheek in hopes of a kiss.
"Young Lovino! How good to see you today!"
Lovino, whose face was beet red from screaming at Francis for the better part of a minute, scowled fiercely and poked the Frenchman sharply in the cheek.
"Too bad I can't say the same about you," he spat. "The sooner you explain what the fucking hell went on last night, the sooner I can get the fuck away from you."
"Lovino, you wound me," Francis said mournfully. "Such foul language! Please. It's a beautiful day. Don't spoil it for me."
"Then you better. Fucking. Explain," Lovino growled.
Francis sighed theatrically, but failed to entirely conceal his delighted grin. "Fine. Would you like to come in?"
They were standing outside Francis' rather upscale home; Lovino had arrived, breathless, just as Francis had emerged to check the mail, at which point the latter decided, with a smirk, to ignore the former.
"No," Lovino said impatiently. "Just please fucking explain why you sent me a text at four in the morning with a picture of you and Antonio sucking face!"
"Well, it's simple really," Francis said innocently. "We drank, we sang, and then we kissed. What's to explain?"
"Why would Antonio kiss a bastard like you - "
"Why do you care?" Francis interrupted smoothly. "It's none of your business whom he chooses to kiss."
"Well that's - I'm not - it's - we were childhood friends, okay!" Lovino spluttered, his face becoming, if it were possible, even redder. "We grew up like brothers! I have a right to protest! Besides, you probably took advantage of him!" he added accusingly.
"Lovino," Francis said. "Please don't waste my time. Just admit that you're jealous."
"Je - WHAT?"
"You heard me. I know that you yourself long to be so intimate with our dear little Spanish friend; you practically told me as much yourself."
"I - what? I never - "
"You did." Francis was clearly enjoying himself now. "Do you remember? Last week."
Lovino suddenly recalled with mortifying clarity his encounter with Francis in a dim, smoke-filled bar downtown.
"OI! WHAT THE FUCK!"
"Calm yourself, young Lovino, please - "
"Like I'm gonna calm down with you trying to grab my ass! Jesus fucking Christ!" Lovino took an angry swig of beer to calm down.
"You think I'm being too forward?" Francis said coyly, snaking an arm around the other man's hunched shoulders and pulling their heads close together. "Would you rather I began with a kiss?"
"God fucking damn it!" Lovino yelled, shoving Francis away roughly and slopping beer all over himself. "I'd rather you back the fuck off, if you know what's good for you!"
"What?" Francis pouted. "You are perfectly single. So young it would be a shame to go too long without sexual activity. And I am a very eligible candidate, I think - "
"No. No, you are in no way eligible for anything involving me, unless it's my kicking the crap out of your arrogant, syphilis-infested ass."
"Hmph." Francis stepped back a pace and crossed his arms, surveying Lovino thoughtfully. "So, if, say, that man over there were to make a similar proposition - "
"No."
"What about that woman? In the black skirt?"
"Don't think so. Look, why are you asking me? It's none of your fucking business whom I choose to do anything with!"
"Why, of course, because I will be jealous," Francis said, acting hurt. "But you have come here to drink alone, I see. Although this is an excellent bar for meeting someone - hm. Can it be, little Lovi, that your heart is already taken?"
"Don't be ridiculous," he muttered, flushing slightly.
"I see I've hit a nerve," Francis said triumphantly. "So who is it? Is it someone I know? Is it Elizaveta?"
"No."
"Roderich?"
"God, no."
"Gil?"
"Jesus Christ, how could you even suggest - !"
"Antonio?"
"No!" Lovino cried a little too quickly, his voice rising an octave. He reddened further at the knowing look on Francis' face.
"So it is my Spaniard you love."
"It's not! I don't! He just - we're friends, okay?" Lovino said defensively. "He doesn't have to have just you and the albino for company, all right?"
"Yes, he deserves a kind of company we have not as yet provided - "
"Fuck you!" Lovino stormed out of the bar, leaving a grinning Francis much to ponder.
"Okay, so you think I like Antonio," Lovino said, frowning. "Why would you then go and make out with him? I mean, what the fuck?"
"To make you jealous."
"Me? Jealous over him? That's a laugh. Ha! I'm laughing. He can make out with whomever he wants, and I will not be jealous."
"I meant jealous over me," Francis laughed. "Though that seems to have backfired. You envy the wrong man!"
"I don't - didn't I just say I'm not jealous?"
"Also, I wanted to show you how infallible my charms are. In one night I was able to accomplish what you have failed to do in the God knows how many years you've liked him - "
But Lovino was gone. At the word "failed" he had paled, turned and run, and Francis watched him sprint off with a sense of satisfaction.
"Mission accomplie," he murmured, tucking his mail under one arm and walking back into his house.
There was no way he, Lovino Vargas, was going to lose to that lewd French bastard. Who knew what the pervert had already done to Antonio? It made his blood boil to imagine those long, practiced fingers touching, caressing Antonio, his Antonio -
Because deny it as he might, Lovino had long since admitted to himself that he wanted the Spaniard. He wanted to be the one to kiss him and hold him and whisper dirty things in his ears that would make the taller man writhe and squirm, the one to taste that exquisitely tanned skin, the one to elicit low, sensual groans . . . And he wanted to be the one with whom Antonio woke up in the morning, the one to see his gorgeous face before anyone else. He wanted Antonio as his, and his alone.
But fucking Francis had beat him to it!
It was fucking unfair.
". . . what you have failed to do in the God knows how many years you've liked him . . ."
Lovino knew he was right, that he was a complete coward, but he planned to rectify that soon.
He lost track of the time as he walked, thinking hard about what he could possibly say to Antonio that would make him understand. "I like you" sounded stupid, even in his head, and "I want you" wasn't quite it, either. "I love you". . . but no, he couldn't say that! He did have some pride left, damn it.
He still hadn't arrived at a solution when his feet had carried him to Antonio's doorstep. Without thinking, without any kind of plan, he raised his hand to the door and knocked.
He waited.
Impatiently, he jabbed his thumb at the doorbell.
And waited.
"GOD DAMN IT, ANTONIO, OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR RIGHT NOW OR I'LL - "
"Not so loud, Lovi," hushed Antonio, wincing, as he opened the door. "Come on in."
Lovino was temporarily silenced by Antonio's pitiful condition, and he entirely forgot why he had come. The older man was wearing a ratty white T-shirt and boxers, and appeared to have just crawled out of bed. His eyes were puffy and his step unsure. Nonetheless, he tried to make Lovino feel at home by offering to prepare him some breakfast.
"Ah, it's really closer to lunchtime by now," Lovino said. "And, God, you look terrible. I'll make you something instead, okay?"
"You are fantastic, Lovi," Antonio mumbled as he sank into one of his kitchen chairs. "I am so hung over."
Though Lovino usually maintained that the best kind of cure food, no matter what the ailment, was pasta, he felt a speedier dish would be more appropriate, so he whipped up some scrambled eggs, over which he tossed some salsa, which he knew Antonio liked. He handed the Spaniard a fork and watched with a strange fascination as he devoured the food in quick, ravenous gulps straight from the frying pan.
"Thanks so much," Antonio said when he was finished, and Lovino allowed only the faintest of blushes to tint his cheeks. "Last night was just . . . I'd rather not go into it, but it was not good, Lovi, not good. I'm glad you're here."
Last night . . .
With a jolt, Lovino remembered his original purpose. He wasn't here to make fucking scrambled eggs, he was here to make Spain see that he belonged with Lovino, not that French son of a bitch! But with one glance at the other man he knew he couldn't. It would be wrong to have such a conversation with him in such a wretched state. Instead, he'd have to just stand here and feel his heart twist and thud painfully in his chest at Antonio's feeble imitations of his usual cheerful smiles, each quirk of the lips making his chest throb with longing to see a genuine grin.
"Listen," Lovino said finally. "Obviously some bad shit went down last night. And I already know it involved Francis. So just fucking tell me and stop moping around like a little fuck and go back to being a happy little fuck like you always are."
Antonio smiled - not a real smile, but closer now - and closed his eyes. "Thank you for caring, Lovi, but it was not good. I'd rather spare you."
"I don't care! Just tell me! I'm not a child, you're not my babysitter anymore!" Lovino crossed his arms and glared. "If anything, I'm babysitting you."
Antonio laughed, then cradled his head and cringed. "It's far too bright in here . . ."
"Don't stall," Lovino snapped mercilessly. "I just want to know what happened last night. How you got this pathetic. You can spare me the gory details, but - "
"Gory details?" Antonio said, amused. "You make it sound as though I was running around like an axe murderer - although - I don't know, I don't remember much after Francis - "
"WHAT DID HE DO TO YOU?" Lovino tried to control the volume of his voice, but Antonio still looked as though he had stuck something long and pointy in his ear.
"Shh, Lovi. Alright, alright. Yes, Francis was with me last night. We were drinking - it was his idea - at the bar, you know, and I was ready to go home, but he wanted to keep drinking, so we did. And then we - I don't remember, but it was something, we went somewhere, did something, and then we came back and drank more, and it was very late and so we went to his place. And we talked for a while, and then he brought up - we were talking and he said - he told me it would make you happy if he took a picture of us kissing and, please, Lovi, don't give me that look! I was very drunk. And then I . . . I was a little upset, so I left, and I told the cab driver the wrong address and ended up at Gil's house and he didn't look very happy either, but he took me home and I was . . . by myself for a bit, and then it was sunrise and then I fell asleep."
"Which part of that utterly pathetic story was so bad you didn't want to tell me?" Lovino demanded. "Sounded to me like your usual foolishness. Well, aside from the being molested by Francis part, but I already knew that."
"Lovi," Antonio whispered. "While I was at home, away from Francis, I thought about what he said. And it made me sad. Because if seeing me kiss Francis makes you happy, then you would be unhappy if I kissed someone else. And I do want to kiss someone else. And I thought about the person I wanted to kiss and it made my heart hurt very much, Lovi, and I cried. And I couldn't stop, so I drank. But in the end, I decided I wanted that person to be happy, so if I had to be sad, it was okay."
"You - " Lovino was speechless for a short moment. Then: "You are stupid! Ahh, you have no logic. None at all! Who is this person you want to kiss? Because just tell them you want to kiss them, or better yet, just do it, and then you will be happy instead of sad, and maybe they'll be happy too because they've just been waiting for you to kiss them for a long time but just weren't brave enough to ask. Did you ever think of that? Maybe they just never told you how much they wanted to be kissed, and you never told them how much you wanted to kiss them, and if you had this could all have been avoided - "
Antonio stood up, took Lovino's face in both his hands, and brought their lips together. It was a short kiss, but just long enough to leave Lovino breathless with a trace of salsa in his mouth. Antonio smiled gently, and rubbed small circles with one thumb over Lovino's steadily reddening cheek.
"I take it by the fact that you haven't hit me that you wanted to be kissed," Antonio ventured.
"So," Lovino said slowly, struggling for words, "so the one you want to kiss was really - "
"You, of course." He leaned forward to press another kiss to the younger man's lips. "Always."
But Lovino pushed him away. "You are too hung over and you taste bad, damn it! Why the hell would I want your kisses? Go back to bed or something."
Antonio smiled broadly. "Will you come keep me company?"
"Only if you shut up," Lovino grumbled. "And if you throw up on me I'm leaving."
"I won't," Antonio promised.
Lovino spent the rest of the day in Antonio's bedroom watching him doze, leaving occasionally to get food.
"I feel much better, Lovi," Antonio said at one point, "but now I am lonely."
"How can you be lonely? I'm right here!" Lovino exclaimed, stung.
"But you're too far away," Antonio whined. "Come closer."
Lovino got up from where he'd been perched on the dresser and sat at the foot of Antonio's bed. "There. Happy?"
"Closer."
Sighing, Lovino moved to sit next to where Antonio was curled up beneath the covers.
"Closer."
Without warning, the Spaniard reached up and tugged Lovino toward him. Lovino blushed furiously. He was lying in bed with Antonio. Lying in bed with Antonio. A day ago he would've thought such a scenario was out of his grasp, but here he was. Antonio was gazing at him adoringly and his arms were pulling Lovino still closer, but just as Lovino tentatively extended his own arms to wrap around Antonio's neck, the door opened.
"Ohh, how cute!" Francis exclaimed.
Lovino sat bolt upright. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?"
"Just checking in on your progress, Lovi."
Lovino flushed and glared murderously. Only one person (besides his brother, of course) was allowed to call him Lovi.
"Mind your own fucking business," Lovino said in a low voice.
"Ah, but I am so glad to see my plan worked!" Francis said, clapping his hands together once. "You and dear Antonio are happy together at last! You should thank me."
"For what?" Lovino snorted. "Kissing the guy I like?"
"For making you admit that you like him."
"It's okay, Lovi," Antonio murmured as Lovino made to rise and possibly assault Francis. "Please stay here."
"Only if he leaves," he spat.
"Not until you thank me for executing my brilliant plan," Francis sang.
"What brilliant plan? You were just being a horny bastard, no different from usual - "
"My plan was brilliant," Francis snapped. "Why do you think I hit on you, dear Lovi? Only to confirm where your affections lay - "
"WHY YOU SON OF A BITCH - "
" - although I admit I would not say no to bedding you - "
"Lovi, no!" Antonio was forced to restrain Lovino once more.
" - if I weren't afraid you'd bite," Francis concluded with a smirk. "Well, for my health I think I should leave you two lovebirds alone for now."
Still panting angrily, Lovino flopped back down on the bed with a snort. "What a bastard."
"It's okay," Antonio said. "We're together now, right?"
"R - right," Lovino said, feeling his cheeks flush.
"Lovi, you know that I love you, right?"
"I - yeah."
Lovino couldn't bring himself to say the words, so he settled for kissing Antonio long and hard, hoping that he'd get the message anyway.
I love you, too.
a/n. OH MY GOD this was so bad but I hadn't posted any fics of one of my absolute favorite pairings, so... yeah it's shit lol. Feel free to review and crit!