Title: It Takes Two — To Pick Up The Pace

Summary: The dreaded "morning after" finally dawns! What happens between Antonio and Lovino today?

Warning: Contains country personification implied boyxboy, a.k.a. B.L. or yaoi. Human names used.

Rating: T for lovely multilingual cussing, yay!

Word Count: 1,842

The next day.

Lovino Romano Vargas watched the only other person in the kitchen from under hooded eyes. If he takes that as me still being pissed at him, so much the better for my plan. After all, if the bastard was worried about whether he, a.k.a. South Italy, was still pissed at him, a.k.a. Spain, he would be that much more distracted in trying to make it up. At least, that's what logic would dictate. . .

"Lovi~ You don't mind what we eat right now, do you? I think I forgot to go to the market again — " Catching the glare that the younger man leveled at him, the Spaniard quickly added: "I'll make it up to you later! I promise!"

At that response, Lovino merely grunted and buried his fingertips in his bangs, further obscuring his eyes. "Right now, I don't give a shit as long as it's something edible and there's enough of it." Luckily for you, he almost added. He'd skipped dinner yesterday because he had still been too rattled to face Spain. And I wonder whose damn fault that was. Surreptitiously, through his fingers, he watched Antonio's back as the latter dug through the fridge and freezer in search of something for them to eat for breakfast.

"Lovi, all I've got right now are eggs and some vegetables, so I'll just make omelettes, OK?" Spain looked anxiously at Romano, who coincidentally had just planted his face in the crook of an arm on the table. This only made him more worried, though, because it was always easiest to monitor the Italian's emotions by watching his facial expressions. "Lovi?"

Romano spoke. "Time you waste talking to me is time better used for making food, dumbass." Though it came out muffled, there was no mistaking the irate tone of his voice.

"¡Sí, sí! I'll be done soon!" Antonio quickly started chopping bell peppers as he turned up the heat on the stove. Thank Dios meal prep never takes long with modern technology. It wasn't long until the first omelette was ready, and he made quite sure that it went to Lovino. "Lovi, sit up properly and eat, or it'll get cold, you know?"

Neither of them heard the distant tone of a cell phone upstairs — one meant to be kept on through any natural or manmade disaster known to mankind.

Antonio's voice sounded very far away by now to Romano, who had slipped into a kind of halfway state between awake and asleep. "Roma?" Goddammit, can't he just stai zitto for more than ten seconds? "Roma, it won't taste good anymore when it's cold. . ." By now, Antonio wasn't just chiding, he was also pleading. "You're not still so mad at me that you're not gonna eat, are you?"

At that, the Italian man sat up reluctantly and stretched, trying to suppress a snort, but not quite succeeding. "Spain, you must be denser than I thought, coming up with that kinda crap. Now, what possible reason would I have for ignoring food, other than the fact that an idiota I know just happened to make it?" He pulled the plate towards him and started chewing. Between bites, he added: "Really, Antonio. Do you have any brains at all in that head of yours?"

Irrationally thankful for some degree of normalcy, the older man feigned shock and tried to ignore Romano's verbal barbs. "How mean! If I didn't have brains, then I couldn't cook, could I?" Although he was facing the stove with his back to Lovino, he could predict the other's reply quite easily through the slight hissing and popping of the stove as he flipped over another omelette:

"There's that, I suppose." The sudden scraping of chair legs against floor tiles suggested that the shorter man was leaning back against his chair while stretching his legs underneath the kitchen table. "Unfortunately, even all the brains in the world wouldn't cure you of your stupidità, or England of the delusion that he can cook."

"Then I suppose you should be grateful you got me today instead of Arthur, or you might starve to death." Antonio joked, turning around and smiling as he tried to gauge Romano's reaction. To his disappointment, however, there was no change in his former underling's face when the plate of just-off-the-heat omelettes was placed on the table.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever." Lovino didn't even spare the older man a glance as he sat down, having eyes only for the steaming food. The second that Antonio put the plate down, the Italian man attacked it with the fervor of a predator zoning in for its kill. And it's about freakin' time, too. What, does he want me to die from hunger?

Spain watched Lovino eat, amazed at the rate at which the food was being devoured. ¿Qué coño? I'm at a lower priority level than food? Hijo de puta. . .where does he put all of that? He tried not to be disappointed as he took a bite of his own half-eaten breakfast. This was Romano, after all. I shouldn't expect anything beyond that by now, should I. . .? Ay, I shouldn't think these things, they're just going to make me pesimista.

"Are you going to mangiare that or not?" The sudden sound of the Italian man's voice abruptly cut through his reverie. Startled, the elder of the two looked at the younger, then back down to his plate before making the connection between the two. Noting Romano's intense stare at the food as well as the almost-but-not-quite-a-glare that was aimed at him, Spain elected to forgo it.

"Um. . .no?" Antonio almost fell out of his chair trying to avoid the swing of Lovino's fork as it sped straight for his plate. In the mood he must be in it's probably best to avoid anything sharp within his range. . .

This time, the sudden clamor of a ringing phone erupts upstairs, though no one is there to heed it. As suddenly as it had started, it cuts off. There is no answer for this caller.

It's about freakin' time. Dio, if you're not gonna eat it then I will! The one thing that got under Lovino's skin more than any other — not counting the frog and potato bastardo — was food going to waste. And aren't you supposed to be scared shitless of how pissed I am at you right now? After all, last night had been a shock to him — in multiple ways — the elder nation should have to feel something too. It was only fair. Then he laughed out loud, quickly turning it into a cough when the Spaniard looked up, alarmed. Ahh, you would be scared shitless if you knew I knew. . . But of course there wouldn't be any fun in ending it so quickly.

Spain's head jerked up in response. I hope he's not choking. . .no — peering intently at Romano's face again — he's not. Sounded a bit like a laugh, but that's probably just my imagination. . . I mean, why would he be laughing right now?

. . .Why the hell are you staring at me like that? Thinking that too much single-mindedness even for his former (self-proclaimed) boss, South Italy decided that it was time for a distraction. He swallowed the very last bite and wiped his mouth on the back of one hand. Pushing back his chair by leaning to his left, the Italian man affixed Antonio with his deadliest glare. "Che cosa? Something on my face?"

Antonio had been hoping for some semblance of conversation, and the not-so-veiled challenge in Romano's tone provided exactly that. "Umm. . .not that I can see. . .why? Does it feel like there is?"

For some reason that seemed to only irritate him more. Before Antonio could say anything further, Lovino sprang to his feet and glared down at the green-eyed brunette from a greater distance, his eyes darker now. "Oh really? Then what was that pause for, decoration?" — here he turned around and smacked his butt to ensure that Antonio's attention was on him — "I guess now you're going to try and tell me that there's something wrong with my ass, too!"

As much as I'm really itching to examine your ass in great detail, Romano, that's a bit too provocatory for my liking. . .in more ways than one. "Mi pequeño Lovino, I didn't say there was anything wrong with your face—" Or your ass, Dios forbid.

The younger nation hid a satisfied smirk as he turned around. I notice you say jack about the ass, mi pequeño España. Aloud, he demanded, "Then why were you giving me that look earlier, huh? If you've got something to parla, just fucking spit it out, or is that too hard for you?!"

Rule número uno when dealing with South Italy: never expect sweet or sugarcoated. Without realizing it, Spain had also risen from his seat and was now matching the other glare-for-glare. "I'm not onnisciente, Lovi; if I want to know how to act around you without the extra earful, I either gotta look at your face and see how you're feeling or risk my sorry culo asking you point-blank!"

A seldom-used doorbell rings, echoing faintly from a distance. Silently, an unseen intruder makes their way in, oblivious to the storm brewing inside.

By coincidence, both Antonio and Lovino had reverted back to their native languages, resulting in a veritable battle of verbal barbs and equally colorful thoughts:

"Obviously, you're not omniscient, asshole, 'cause otherwise maybe you would have apologized by now, you sorry sonova—" Inside, the auburn-haired man was pricked into a greater degree of outrage. 'How to act around me?' What a load of mierda! If you could see anything past your dense skull, maybe you'd see you didn't NEED to fucking act around me—

"Apologize for what? Feeding you? Humoring you all the time? Lovino Romano Vargas, have I ever told you even once that you weren't welcome here!? Ever thought of it that way? Looking at things from a new point of view wouldn't hurt—" Antonio scrupulously avoided all thoughts of last night. It's not like I wasn't ever gonna apologize to you, Roma!

"Oh, don't fucking play innocent with me, Antonio Férnandez Carriedo! You know exactly what I'm talking about—" Romano was finding it difficult to express his thoughts in mere words, so wild gesticulation of his hands was making up for it. Especially the use of a certain finger.

Ouch. You playing dirty with me, mi Lovi? A couple of the projectiles the Italian was now throwing at him were finding their way a little too close to the heart of the matter for Spain's liking. He opened his mouth to dish back a snappy retort, but it never came out. Instead, a new voice joined the fray:

". . .Ah, dear me, it seems I've inadvertently interrupted a lover's quarrel?"

Translations:

"¡Sí, sí!" ➝ "Yes, yes!" ➝ repeated twice here because Antonio feels rushed. (Español)

Dios ➝ "God" (Italiano)

stai zitto ➝ "shut up" (Italiano)

idiota ➝ "idiot" (Italiano and Español)

stupidità ➝ "stupidity" (Italiano)

¿Qué coño? ➝ the literal translation is "what the fuck?" but here it means something more like a shorter, "the fuck?" or "dafuq?" (Español)

Hijo de puta ➝ "son of a bitch" ➝ Antonio is using it to express a sense of awe, in a sense. (Español)

pesimista ➝ "pessimistic" (Español)

mangiare ➝ "eat," "consume," etc. (Italiano)

Dio ➝ "God" (Italiano)

bastardo ➝ "bastard" (Italiano and Español)

Che cosa? ➝ "What?" (Italiano)

Mi pequeño Lovino ➝ "my little Lovino" (Español)

mi pequeño España ➝ "my little Spain" (Español)

parla ➝ "say" ➝ shortened version of parlare, "to say" (Italiano)

número uno ➝ "number one" (Español)

onnisciente ➝ "omniscient" (Italiano)

culo ➝ "ass," as in butt kind of "ass." (Italiano)

"What a load of mierda!" ➝ "What a load of [bull]shit!" (Español)

mi Lovi ➝ "my Lovi" (Español)

As always, please, please, please correct me if you find any typos or errors in the non-English words! C: Arigatō gozaimashita!

(I don't think this is likely to happen, but if you find typos or grammar mistakes in the chapter as a whole, then review and tell me about those, too!)

If you want to make me a happy writer and nudge my Antonio and Lovino-muses into action, please help me out and review, such as one/more of the following:

1) Suggest some nicknames or adjectives that the two might use to call each other, even face-to-face! They don't have to be complimentary!

2) Tell me what you think of this chapter! :D I really want to hear your favorite lines/parts~

3) Guesses at what might happen next/in the future will always find an audience with me! :3

4) Suggestions as to possible improvements! ;A; Please be gentle with these, though! And please suggest how I might improve, don't just say, "this sucks and you need to do something about it." Tell me why you think it sucks!