Okay, all together now: The author of this story sucks as a writer and as a human being! It's been ten months since I updated, and I feel awful, and I'm so so sorry, but I can literally go on pages and pages apologizing if I don't stop myself. So, yes, I am soooo sorry or not updating, and yes, I will probably take a while to update again, but dear Gods definitely not 10 whole months!

So, please, read, and enjoy!

Arthur cast a questioning look at Lovino over his plate of bangers and mash. "Are you sure you didn't misunderstand something he said?"

The Italian let out a frustrated huff as short as his temper. "Yes, I'm sure, Arthur. He explicitly said he tore the whole damn dorm apart looking for a fucking lady bug!"

"Wow," the teen tilted his head just a tad. "I never thought that Antonio was actually that bloody insane, but apparently I've been proved wrong. Hm, well I guess you learn something new every day."

Lovino slammed his open palm on the table, startling a group of students passing by. "I don't want to 'learn something new'! I want to have a normal fucking roommate who can actually understand social cues and I want to have my own damn room where I don't have to wake up on top of a half-naked Spaniard and I want to be able to walk into my dorm without stepping on tiny bits of disassembled T.V. and I want-"

"Wait, what?" Arthur held up a hand to pause his ranting, and slightly panting, friend. "What's this about a half-naked Antonio underneath you?"

The Brit never saw anyone's face turn as scarlet red as Lovino's did at the moment. His concern for the Italian's health almost out won his curiosity at the statement-almost-and he silently watched as the teen struggled with what to say.

"I-Wait, no, I meant-Well, technically, but-I didn't want-" Lovino's chest rose and fell frantically, eyes darting around for a way out of his precarious situation. "He's to blame-You don't think I-If I could, I'd-I just-Oh, look!"

Lovino's arm looked like it was having a spasm, but in reality he was just reaching over to grab the teen sitting to his left. "Look who it is! It's Matthew! When did you get here? How are you doing? Let's talk about your day, hm?"

The blond's expression screamed confusion, one fork raised to his open mouth.

"I-I don't-What?" He lowered his food and grew more worried by the second. "Was I supposed to be listening? I thought you two were having a conversation so I was just eating my food-"

"Don't worry, Matthew," Arthur calmed his friend, taking his eyes off of Lovino. "You weren't supposed to be doing anything. Well, I mean, it's dinner, so you were supposed to be eating, but you were doing just that, so..." The Brit gave a shrug and a half smile. "Good for you, boy-o. Now, what were you saying, Lovino?"

Both teens turned towards the Italian, but Lovino seemed to somehow turn into a half-eaten plate of rigatoni and an empty seat.

Stupid fucking Arthur and his stupid fucking question; I didn't even get to finish my damn food.

Lovino was roaming the halls, not caring where he ended up. With his luck, he'd probably find his way back to his dorm, an apparently insane Spaniard waiting inside.

School hasn't even started yet and I've got a sardonic Brit of a friend, a hot clueless roommate, and a completely dependent brother. That's quite the posse you've rounded up for yourself, Lovino.

He sighed and kept trudging along; he could hear the voices of other students in the halls, and occasionally passed a few, but relatively kept to himself. It wasn't until he practically tripped over a ball of white and brown fur that he stopped his self-pitying for a moment.
"What in the-Gino?"

Feliciano's cat was sprawled across the tiled floor, purring to his heart's content. Lovino looked around for the Italian teen, but was met with only classroom doors and bright lights.

"What are you doing out here?"
Meow.

"My brother's probably worried sick about you."

Meow.

Lovino sighed, dragging a hand down his face in resignation. "You're gonna make me carry you back to his dorm, aren't you?"

Meeeeow.

It took the Italian twenty minutes to find his brother's dorm; he not only turned down far too many wrong hallways, but he had to keep stopping to allow every student that past him to pet Gino. He had barely knocked before the door flew open, revealing a similar looking teen.

"Gino! Oh, there's my little cutie! I thought you were gone forever!" Feliciano practically wept, sweeping the cat into his arms and cradling him close. "We'll catch whoever stole you away!"

"You fell asleep and left the front door open, Feliciano." Ludwig emerged from his room, crossing his arms over his chest. "No one 'stole' the cat."

Lovino rolled his eyes at the blond and brushed past his brother into the dorm. "So what's up, losers? Got any plans for the rest of the night?"

Before the German could retort, Kiku spoke up from his spot on the couch.

"Well, we were going to go out in search of Gino, but now that he's here, may I suggest a movie? I hooked Netflix up on the T.V..."

Feliciano raced over and planted himself next to the Japanese teen, grabbing the remote and unleashing Gino onto his friend's lap.

"Ooooh, yeah! I hear they just added this adorable movie about trolls and boxes I think? It sounds cute, ve~"

Plopping down next to his brother, Lovino shrugged. "Beats hanging around my idiot of a roommate."

Ludwig, sighing, seated himself next to Kiku on the other end of the couch after shutting off the lights. As the opening credits began to sound, he spoke, "I'm not that hungry, so if anyone else wants to make popcorn-"

"Ooh, popcorn!" Three voices piped up in unison. Realizing that no one was making a move to actually prepare the snack, Ludwig sighed again and shuffled over to the kitchen.

"I really should try to make more friends..."

"Aw, what, no hanging out at your place for a movie tonight, Francis?" Walking slightly ahead of his French friend, Antonio couldn't help but smirk. "No highlights from Hidden Camera Weekly?"

Francis groaned, tilting his head back. "I've paid my dues; I've done my time. Can't we just put this past us?"

"I think I'm still entitled to another free dinner-I mean, the emotional trauma I suffered from your betrayal of our trust has left me starving," Gilbert dramatized, leaning upon the blond teen in fake-exhaustion.

"Your dinner cost me an arm and a leg tonight, Gil! I highly doubt I'll be eating for the rest of the week."

Antonio shrugged, opening the door for his friends. "I'd say that's apt payment, Francis. Besides, you've still got to figure out who put those extra cameras in there."

The French teen groaned again, pushing away from the albino draped over his shoulder. "That's tomorrow's problem; for right now, I'm focusing on checking the soccer roster to see who made the team from yesterday. I've no doubt that that cute brunet made it, but I swear, if Coach let that idiot who tripped over his own cleats join..."

"I'll go with ya," Gilbert stretched, yawning. "My money's on the short, ginger kid making defense."

Antonio waved goodbye to his friends, making them promise to text him the results. Their spots were already guaranteed, but it was nice knowing who they'd be playing with for the rest of the season.

Taking the steps two at a time, the Spaniard wondered if Lovino had made it back to their dorm yet. If not, then he could make a final sweep of the room to ensure that Francis and he had definitely cleaned up the mess from earlier that day; Antonio shuddered at the thought of being greeted by a very pissed off Lovino, probably ready with a baseball bat.

Although, he did look pretty hot when he was pissed... What with the way he got so close, his eyes bearing straight into mine-

"Oh, hey, Antonio!"

A light voice brought him out of his thoughts; he focused in on the girl before him.

"Hola, Bella! How are you? Long time no see!" Antonio joked.

The Belgian smiled, adjusting the hem of her skirt. "I'm doing good, just heading back to my room."

Checking his watch, Antonio questioned, "What are you doing out so late? You're usually an early bird."

"I could ask you the same, oh fake-boyfriend-of-mine," Bella winked, giving a short laugh. "I was out in town with Victoria and must have lost track of time."

The two exchanged a few more words before getting ready to go their separate ways; realizing that Lovino was probably back in their dorm by now, however, gave the Spaniard an idea.

"Can I borrow you for, like, two minutes?"

"Is it for Plan Jealous Italian?"

Antonio smiled, grabbing Bella's hand and ushering her up the stairs towards his floor.

After the movie ended-Lovino certainly did not cry, no matter what that stupid German insisted he saw in the dim lighting-the Italian called out a goodnight to the trio and retreated to his dorm. Opening the door cautiously, he sighed with relief at the clean room; he wasn't really looking forward to actually making good on his threat to the idiotic Spaniard who caused this whole problem in the first place.

First things first: I'm changing out of these cat hair riddled clothes. I look like a walking lint roller thanks to that stupid gato.

He had barely stepped away from the closed door when he heard a familiar giggle floating in from the hallway.

Oh, no.

"Tonight was so much fun, Toni~ You can be the cutest little charmer when you want to be."

A low chuckle followed; Lovino could feel his cheeks redden.

"For you, mi princesita, I can be anything." Antonio practically purred.

Ugh, I'm gonna be sick.

"Oh, Toni~".

Lovino could hear her plant a kiss on the Spaniard.

"I'll see you tomorrow, mi dulzura. Until then," the sound of Antonio kissing the Belgian back seemed to echo in the room; Lovino rushed into their bedroom, grabbed his bag, and ran into the bathroom.

Locking the door behind him, he carefully stripped off his shirt, taking care not upset the bandaging on his stomach. Carefully picking out pajamas, Lovino did everything he could to not think about what he just overheard; of course, as we all know, that only made him think about it more.

Okay, they kissed. So what? That doesn't matter; they've probably done that tons of times before-

Lovino thought about the Spaniard's lips on anyone else but him.

Alright, so let's not think about that. Let's focus on...Uh...How ugly that stupid Bella's outfit probably was! Yeah, I'm sure she looked hideous-

Sighing, the Italian wanted nothing more than to punch something. He knew that Bella was beautiful, and that he really had no reason to hate her. She made Antonio happy, and that was that. So, hate was out of the picture; jealousy, on the other hand, was perfectly reasonable.

The teen changed, performing all his nightly routines while waiting for the Spaniard to walk in. He stalled until he heard the front door open and close before exiting the bathroom, making sure to glare at Antonio, leaving his greeting unanswered, as he shut off the bedroom light and crawled under the covers.

A little jealousy is healthy, Lovino. Maybe it'll kick start you into actually branching out and making new connections, perhaps to even hotter people? There's got to be someone with a better ass than Antonio at this school.

Even as he thought it, he knew it was a lie. Sighing, Lovino shuffled around under the sheets till he was on his back, staring up at the blank ceiling. The light was on in the living room, and he knew Antonio would be walking in and stripping at any moment.

Okay, you can do this. You can totally get over this three day crush. Just repeat after me: I don't care about Antonio Carriedo.

OKAY, SO MAYBE I FUCKING CARE A LITTLE BIT.

Lovino's eyes were shooting daggers at the aforementioned Spaniard, who was currently glued to Bella's side as the duo giggled and fed each other bits from Antonio's lunch plate. It wasn't until Arthur began snapping in his Italian friend's face that Lovino snapped out of his thoughts.

"Oi, Lovino. How about a little less staring at your dream guy, a little more eating your sandwich, hm? I've got to pick my clothes up from the wash and iron them again for tomorrow." Arthur reminded, glaring at the American seated next to him.

"How many times do I have to say I'm sorry, Artie?" Alfred exclaimed, exasperated. "It was an honest mistake!"

"No, Alfred, an honest mistake is spilling some water on my uniform; perhaps even mixing it in the wash with those dreadful orange tracksuit pants you seem to love so much." The Brit took a sip of tea to calm himself down before continuing, "What's not an honest mistake is shaking a Godforsaken can of Mountain Dew, opening it up in the middle of my room, and yelling 'Do the Dew'. You got that wretched sugar drink soaked into all five of my uniforms!"

Tuning out the cousins' bickering, Lovino returned to scowling at the two lovebirds as he practically tore apart the rest of his panini.

Stupid fucking Antonio and his stupid fucking idea to get back with his ex. Who the fuck does that any way? Has that ever actually worked out? No, it hasn't; trying to restart relationships that already ended once is like shooting yourself in the foot, then shooting the other foot because maybe this time it won't hurt as bad. Stupid fucking idiot. I could have a waaaay better relationship with that fool than anyone he could dream up. Hmph.

"Yo, earth to Lovino? You there, buddy?" Alfred was practically shouting in his face, waving his arms around like a fucking madman.

The Italian swatted the other teen's hands away, focusing back in on those actually seated with him.

"Of course I'm fucking here, idiot. What were we talking about?"

"Leaving lunch to go finish cleaning my clothes? School starts tomorrow, and I'd like to start the year off without leading around an army of ants enticed by my sugar-coated uniforms." Standing up from his seat, Arthur briskly snatched up the other two's near-empty plates and disposed of them.

Lovino sighed and fell into step behind the Brit and American, making sure to stare icily at Antonio as they passed his table; the teen was too busy making bedroom eyes at the blushing girl by his side to notice his pissed off roommate pass him.

The past three and a half days had been pure Hell for the Italian. Between picking up uniforms and schedules, visiting the nurse's office to make sure he wasn't internally bleeding, and trying to learn the layout of the school so he didn't get lost on his first day, Lovino also had to deal with constantly being reminded of the fact that Antonio was locking lips with someone who was better than himself in practically every way: the first example of this? Bella probably doesn't get jealous when her roommate-someone she has only known for barely a week-goes into a seemingly happy relationship.

She does giggle way too much though, so I've won that round. Ha, take that!

Smiling at his imaginary victory, Lovino accompanied Arthur to pick up his clothing from the laundry room while Alfred went on a run with his football buddies. Afterwards, the two walked back to their dorm.

"You know, I've been thinking," Lovino began as Arthur dug around in his blazer's pocket for the room key.

"That's a dangerous pastime, you know," the Brit teased, unlocking the door and stepping inside. Lovino smacked the other's arm lightly, closing the door behind him and following Arthur back to his room. He watched as the teen pulled out an ironing board from God knows where and laid his first uniform gently upon it.

"The school has probably already forgotten about Matt again, meaning that they probably forgot the whole rooming problem up here."

"Your point being?"

Lovino threw his hands up in the air. "My point being that I can escape the clutches of that damned Spaniard and sleep in my brother's room instead of dealing with his half-naked ridiculousness every night!"

Shrugging his shoulders, Arthur continued to meticulously iron his uniform. "Last I heard you were appreciating Antonio's genes and your up close view of them."

The past couple of days had allowed the Brit and Italian to become fast friends, what with both of them needing someone to talk to about how much they absolutely, irrefutably hate Francis Bonnefoy and Antonio Carriedo; of course, their hate sessions usually dissolved into half-hearted attempts to mask their respective attractions to the older teens.

His cheeks blushing slightly, Lovino sighed and flopped down onto Arthur's bedspread. "That doesn't mean I want to be tortured for the rest of the year by seeing what I can't touch! It's getting ridiculous; I swear, it's almost like those two love-sick puppies are following me everywhere! I go into town for dinner, they're there, feeding each other penne pasta. I pick up my class schedule, they're there, squealing about how they have third hour together. I go to the damn bathroom and they're there, fucking making out across the hall! Like, what the shit?!"

Laying out his second uniform to iron, Arthur offered up, "Well I may not be able to remedy that, but I can offer up something to distract you for a couple minutes; would you mind going into my wardrobe and fetching me my pale blue sweater vest?"

Lovino got up, dramatically sighing and flinging open the doors to the bulky piece of furniture. "Why do you keep this thing in the middle of the wall, anyway? You could just shove it into the corner and get a bit more space to move around in here."

"That damn French pervert drilled a hole in the wall, remember? Until I find a way to patch it up, that wardrobe is my only line of defense against him hearing and seeing my every move," Arthur flipped his shirt over to the other side. "Admittedly, there technically isn't a back to the wardrobe itself, but there's so many clothes in there that I consider myself safe."

"Santa merda (1) I completely forgot about the damned hole."

Arthur nodded solemnly as Lovino crawled into the wardrobe; the Italian had long given up questioning how a simple piece of furniture could be so much bigger on the inside, and, despite Arthur's continual denial, Lovino firmly held the belief that it was literally Narnia in there.

"What do you even need all these clothes for?" Lovino called out after a few seconds of crawling around in the dim lighting that his phone screen provided. "We wear uniforms to school every day."

"A proper gentleman is always prepared for every occasion; just because we're expected to wear the same thing during the weekdays doesn't mean that we get free passes to dress willy-nilly on the weekends," Arthur's response was muffled, but received.

Lovino huffed, muttering to himself as he shoved aside what seemed like three pairs of the same slacks. "It's damn overkill, that's what it-AH, SHIT-"

THUMP. Not paying attention, the Italian had slammed head first into the wall. Falling backwards, Lovino rubbed his forehead and grumbled, "I'm going to fucking burn this stupid wardrobe right to the fucking-wait, what?"

Familiar sounding voices began to float in from the wall, and as he leaned closer, he realized he had crawled smack into Francis's impromptu hole. About to turn away and inform Arthur that his sweater vest had been devoured by Narnia goat people, Lovino finally began to be able to discern the voices speaking-and boy, did they spark his curiosity and fury.

"The main point is this; why quit, mon ami? Plan Jealous Condom Boy is working perfectly; you've got that feisty little Italian right where you want him."

"Ah, mon pote (2), you should have seen Lovino's face at lunch today!" Unlocking the front door, Francis breezed into his dorm, turning around to face the Spaniard trailing after him. "He was practically foaming at the mouth watching you and Bella!"

Antonio gave a half smile, slipping his shoes off and dropping himself down on to the couch. "Well, I guess Plan Jealous Lovi is-wait, where are you going?"

Already down the hallway, Francis called over his shoulder, "I'm changing my shirt; Gilbert got soda on it when he laughed too hard at one of his own jokes."

"He told the one about the homesick chicken again, didn't he?"

Sighing, the French teen tugged his shirt off over his head. "I don't know why he finds it so funny... But, back on point! Everything is going swimmingly; there's no downfall in sight!"

Antonio bit at his lip, foot jittering on the tiled floor. Jumping up from his seat, he strode over to Francis's room, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest.

"What if we ended it? The Plan I mean."

Before Francis could speak, a loud THUMP came from the wall, followed by a muffled sound.

The two teens looked at the empty space, seeing nothing but a small hole in the wall.

"What was that?"

Francis shrugged his shoulders, slipping on a dark blue T-shirt over his head. "I don't know, but it kind of sounded like 'shit'? Not entirely sure. Perhaps there are rats in the walls?"

Wrinkling his nose, Antonio looked on with slight disgust. "Bruto (3)."

The French teen waved his hand as if dismissing the whole ordeal.

"The main point is this: why quit, mon ami? Plan Jealous Condom Boy is working perfectly; you've got that feisty little Italian right where you want him."

"I know, and-"

"And nothing! Keep fake-dating Bella for a couple more days and you'll have Lovino metaphorically eating out of your hand. Or literally; I don't know your kinks yet, but-"

"And nothing! Keep fake-dating Bella for a couple more days and you'll have Lovino metaphorically eating out of your hand. Or literally; I don't know your kinks yet, but-"

Okay, that's all I need to hear.

Lovino quickly crawled backwards out of the wardrobe, his task of finding the sweater vest thankfully forgotten. He took the time to assess his situation.

So all he wants to do is sleep with me? Fuck him! Well, not like that, I mean like-Ugh, I know what I mean! Fuck Antonio, and fuck his stupid ass plan!...Well, I guess it wasn't really stupid, 'cuz it was sorta working-THAT'S NOT THE POINT, LOVINO.

Once he reached fresh air, he turned to face Arthur, placed his hands on his hips, and spoke: "I need a shit-ton of that black magic of yours, Artie. I have a Spaniard who needs to suffer, both physically and mentally."

Arthur, looking up from ironing his fourth uniform, seemed puzzled for a moment. "Any reason why? I mean, don't get me wrong, my dark magic could use a bit of practice, but I tend to reserve it for dire situations."

The Italian, full of fury and about to respond, paused for a moment before questioning, "Didn't you say you used it last year to curse Alfred for breaking your model planes? Something about a chair and a dude named Busby?"

"Yeah, well," Arthur's cheeks tinged red. "That didn't turn out the way I wanted it. Now, what did Antonio do this time?"

All of Lovino's rage came back into focus, and he had to clench his fists down by his sides.

"That bastard has been pretending to get back together with Bella just so I'll be jealous enough to let him in my pants! Can you fucking believe that? Fucking jackass!"

The Brit's caterpillar eyebrows shot up slightly in surprise. "Wow, I didn't think Antonio was that sexually deviant."

"Francis was helping him."

"That frog-kissing bastard!" Arthur turned away from his ironing to glare at the wall separating him and Francis; Lovino swore it looked like he was trying to kill the French teen through it.

"Yeah, so you see my problem now? I've got to make Antonio learn the error of his ways by inflicting as much vengeance as I possibly can, and your black magic can help with that."

Arthur shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. "Magic isn't the answer here. For once."

Exasperatedly, Lovino threw his arms in the air. "Then what? Hm? You got any bright fucking ideas on how to totally ruin that bastard?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Arthur turned back to his uniform. "Might I suggest simply calling him out on his little plan? Antonio is good at talking his way out of confrontation, but you're far better at badgering someone until they give you straight answers."

Lovino narrowed his eyes at his friend. "Was that a backhanded way of calling me a nag?"

"Not at all."

"'Cuz that's kinda the vibe I'm picking up from you here."

"Then you're entirely misreading the room."

Sighing, Lovino ran a hand through his hair, upsetting his stray curl. "So I just... talk to him? Direct communication?"

Arthur nodded, holding up his now ironed uniform for inspection. "Exactly; and if that doesn't work, there's always the dark magic to fall back on."

Alright, so it's a win-win situation. Not bad.

Heading out of the Brit's room and striding towards the front door, Lovino thought about what he would say to Antonio.

Above all, remain calm. Actually talk to him, don't just curse him out and storm off like you tend to do. Demand an explanation for what he's been doing, and make him promise to stop being so disrespectful and rude to you.

Lovino took a deep breath to steady himself as he opened the door; he took a curt step outside, gently closing the door behind him. Hearing a soft click from his side, he looked over to see Antonio exiting Francis's dorm. After closing the door, the Spaniard looked up to see Lovino standing dead-still in front of Arthur's room. Smiling, the Spaniard made his way over, one hand rubbing the back of his neck in apprehension.

Remember: calm.

"Hola, Lovino, I wanted to-"

The short teen's fist flew out and hit Antonio square in the nose.

"FUCK YOU!"

GREAT JOB AT STAYING FUCKNIG CALM THERE, LOVINO.

Translation (1): Santa merda

Holy shit

Translation (2): mon pote

my friend (or my buddy, something along those lines)

Translation (3): Bruto

Gross

Whelp, there you are, folks. What y'all have been waiting a small eternity for. So sorry again, I will work on not being human trash, I promise.

Until next time, I hope you favorite and review! They feed me during hiatus...