[fic] A Day in the Life
Title: A Day in the Life
Author/Artist: chromatic_coma
Characters/Pairings: Bad Touch Trio-centric- FrUK, Spain/Romano, Prussia/Italy
Rating: T for liberal cursing
Genre: Friendship, Romance
Summary: A day in the life of the Bad Touch Trio as their suffer through their greatest agressor; crushes. Gakuen AU
A Day in the Life
“Wake up, sleepyhead!!”
“Ugghhhh, ’ts toooo early…” Gilbert groaned into his pillow, shoving his face deeper into it when Francis only shook him harder.
“Of course it’s too early, it’s school. Now, come on, Antonio is waiting for us.”
Gilbert then grumbled something incoherent, but after having spend every day of the past 13 years with him, Francis knew it wasn’t very flattering. With a tiny smirk, the French student moved away from his friend’s bed.
“Your loss; that means more food for me~”
“’ood?” The lift in Gilbert’s muffled voice made Francis’ grin grow.
“Of course. Antonio told me he made a Spanish omelet for us, but I guess if you don’t want any-”
Francis could safely say he’d never seen anyone roll out of bed completely tangled up in their cover so quickly.
------
“About time you got here, amigos.” Antonio smiled as Gilbert ran up to the corner, Francis walking at a leisurely pace behind him with a wide smile.
“Francis said you made one of your orgasmic omelets; I want it.”
The Spaniard laughed. “So that’s why you ran up here; and I was actually thinking you might have been happy to see me.”
Gilbert groaned. “Yeah, yeah, happy to see ya Spainy, now can I pleaseee have some food.”
“Mon Dieu, did he actually just beg?”
Antonio blinked. “I believe so. I need to hear it again to believe it, though.”
“PLEASE GUYS!! Ludwig was experimenting last night, tryin’ to make some pasta to impress that cute little Italian, but of course he doesn’t stand a chance against me anyways. After all, he’s anal and is practically made of rock, while I’m 100% hot and 1000% percent awesome-”
Gilbert was cut off by an obviously fake yawn, courtesy of Francis. “Were you going somewhere with this, cher?”
“Don’t interrupt!! As I was saying, he somehow managed to burn the fuckin’ pasta, and then he made me eat it.”
“Oh, you poor thing.” But it was obvious Antonio was trying to hold back laughter, despite his comforting hand on Gilbert shoulder. He reached into the brown paper bag in his hand and pulled out a cleanly cut third of the large omelet, and passed it over the hungry albino. Gilbert did not hesitate to attack the food, something that must have been a “thank you” muttered around a mouthful of food.
Francis’s expression was somewhere between appalled and amused. “It’s fortunate that you made breakfast today, or else he’d still be in bed. Though, it’s also surprising; you’re not much of an early bird either.”
Antonio rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I had some trouble sleeping last night, so I got up early and decided to make the most of the time.”
Francis frowned; Antonio’s smile was just too fake, and how did he miss those bags underneath the brunet’s deep emerald eyes before.
“Is there something you want to share with the class, mon ami?”
Antonio simply looked confused, and Francis shook his head. “Never mind. He will say ‘yes’, you know.”
This time, when Antonio smiled, it was even faker. That is, if the quivering at the corner of his lips was anything to go by…
“Sí, sí,” He answered quickly, grabbing Gilbert (who was already on the last bite of his food) and starting up the street. “Let’s go!”
Francis could only sigh and shake his head, before running up to catch up with the others.
--------------
The trip to school was mostly uneventful (unless you considered Gilbert chasing stray, diseased pigeons around, trying to make them smash into one another something eventful, but by this point Antonio and Francis were so accustomed to it, it was more like background music to their walk), so the sight of the crowded, chaotic hallway was a welcome change to that.
Instantly the trio melted into their usual spots; on his way to his locker, Francis made sure to give Arthur an extra special good morning.
“GAH! You bloody wanker!!” The emerald eyed boy gasped, a hand instinctively moving to cover his sore rear, before he realized exactly where he was putting it and exactly where he was.
Francis winked. “Oh, mon cher, you know you lust for it.” He whispered seductively, causing Arthur’s cheeks to get a healthy flush.
“I ABSOLUTELY DO NOT!! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have class to get to!” Slamming his locker shut, the Briton stalked off through the halls, shouting out a curse at Alfred, the rambunctious American, when the dirty blond wolf-whistled as he walked by.
“Now, now, Alfred, I hope you’re not planning to steal mon lapin from me?”
The broad shouldered jock simply laughed. “As if I’d want a boyfriend with caterpillars for eyebrows!”
“I heard that!!” Arthur called, failing at ignoring the two.
“Fear not, lapin, I love your monstrous facial hair!!”
Never in the history of the Hetalia International Academy had door been slammed so hard.
---------------
“So, strike out again, sexy?” Gilbert laughed when a resigned, disappointed Francis plopped into his seat in homeroom in between the albino and the Spaniard’s (currently empty) chairs. From his place sitting on Francis’ desk, the self-proclaimed Prussian had no trouble poking the blond in the nose when he got no answer.
“Come on, now, I though France was the country of ‘l’amour~’ Cheer up, Frenchy!”
Francis gave a small smile at that. “While that is true, ami, the course of love never did run smooth.”
Antonio, who’d walk in in time to hear the last of Francis’ sentence, seemed concerned.
“So that door slamming before was Arthur, then?”
Gilbert scoffed. “Who else?”
“Some people were saying that you tried to come onto Vash.” Gilbert’s grin matched Antonio’s at those words.
“Ah, so that’s it. I would go for the blond, but only to get a rise out of that prudish Austrian lover of his.” The albino nodded in agreement. “But, this time it was all French over here.”
The Spaniard placed a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Francis. With your sexy French charm, you’ll have him begging with your name in no time.”
Francis sighed. “One can only hope so. But enough about this, how did things go with our cute little grumpy Italian?”
Antonio’s smile dampened, and that was all the answer the others needed.
“You chickened out again?! Man, why am I still hangin’ around with a bunch of fuckin’ pansies.”
“Oh, because you have a date for this Saturday.” Francis replied dryly, as Gilbert sat back down in his seat.
“Nope, but if I wanted one, I’d have one just like that.” He replied, propping his feet up on his desk.
“Oh?”
“Yup.”
“Mr. Weillschmidt, feet off the furniture, please.” At that the class came to attention, everyone taking their seats and pulling out their books as the homeroom and history teacher, a beautiful young woman named Ms. Karpusi, placed her books on the desk.
Annoyed (but not too annoyed; even if she was Heracles’ mom, she was pretty hot), Gilbert dropped his feet back on the floor and smirked.
“Can do, miss.”
Seeing Gilbert exchange grins with his table mates, Ms. Karpusi could only shake her head and sigh, grateful that she was not a pushover teacher; she’d heard some pretty odd things about those three.
-------------
Homeroom and first-period history passed by pretty quickly, and in a miraculous show Gilbert managed to get only one detention during the lesson, after he’d launched a paper plane with crude caricatures of burning pianos and giant moles at Roderich.
Second period was when the trio had to part; Francis, of course, had opted to take French as his foreign language (“It’s hardly foreign to you, bastard!” was what Arthur had complained, but his argument was shot down by the fun-loving headmaster). Antonio had chosen Italian as his language (“But only so you can stare at the cute Italian grump’s ass and not get noticed, right?”), and Gilbert was going to take Italian as well, until he found out Feliciano was in German. But hey, it was no loss to him, after all; if anything, it was another highly useful nap hour.
But not today. Today, Gilbert was going to prove to Francis that he could land a date with anyone, specifically a cute little brunet someone with big chocolately colored eyes and a silly little curl that Gilbert wanted nothing more than to-
“Weillschmidt!!” There was, of course, the unfortunate problem that the school’s one and only German instruction happened to be the most anal person on the planet, and that included Ludwig-
“Sorry, gramps, what was the question?” -Because after all, he had to get from somewhere. A somewhere also known as Professor Weillschmidt, Gilbert and Ludwig’s grandfather.
“In class you will call me ‘Professor’. And pay attention, Weillschmidt, or you’ll be at the receiving up of some rather unfortunate consequences.”
Now Gilbert was pretty stupid, but he wasn’t very stupid, and so he simply nodded.
“Sure thing, professor.” Gramps. There, that was satisfying.
“Excellent.” The blond man drawled sarcastically. His gaze shifted back to the class, before pausing.
“Feliciano. Translate the first three sentences of the passage.” Gilbert nearly almost winced at the harsh tone; someone as soft and cute as that adorable little Italian should never be spoken to in such a cold, distant manner. The albino was suddenly grateful that Germania (yeah, that’s right, his grandfather was named after an old empire. Cool, right?) had absolutely no clue of both of his grandsons’ crushes (although, let the records show that Gilbert was too manly for a crush), because if he was being hard on the Italia now…
The albino visibly shuddered, but it went unnoticed as all of the class’ focus was on Feliciano (including Ludwig’s- ‘oh, Bruder, you’re so going to get it when we go home.’)
When Feliciano started to read, Gilbert felt his heart freeze. The brunet had such an adorable voice, and even though his German accent was complete fail… it was an endearing fail. The white haired boy dropped his head onto his desk, wishing that the damn bell would ring already, so he could start putting those fantasies to action…
Eventually, after another ten minutes of pure agony in the form of boring textbook translations, the bell finally did ring, and Gilbert didn’t hesitate to jump out of his seat and get over to Feliciano’s desk, where the smaller boy was packing his books.
“Hey Feliciano.” He said smoothly, putting on hand on the desk and looming over the Italian a bit, the latter of whom did not notice anything amiss.
Feliciano grinned, “Hello Gilbert!!”
That smile… it was just not fair. How could one little smile be so cute, that it could make Gilbert’s stomach do flip-flops?
The albino simply nodded, mostly to keep himself focused, and asked in the most nonchalant tone he could muster,
“So, wanna go out for pasta this weekend?” Please say yes, pleeeease say yes.
“Really? Yay!!” Gilbert hadn’t realized he was holding this breath, until the affirmative answer allowed him to let it out. A coy smile played on his face.
“Awesome. I’ll come get you Saturday at 5, that good?”
The Italian nodded enthusiastically, his curl bouncing up and down with his head in a way that was too adorable.
“Oh, oh, can we ask Ludwig to come too?”
And that’s when Gilbert visibly blanched. How could Feliciano have not realized that the albino was asking him out on a date, just the two of them alone, without his stupid brother around?
“S-sure…” He stuttered, finding himself too thrown off to even keep his composure to speak properly. “Do what you want.”
Because as much as Gilbert hated to and would never admit it, he couldn’t deny Feliciano anything.
----------------
“Guys, we’re going to pants prissy boy today at lunch. Don’t question it, just get the gear,” was the brief, clipped statement that had interrupted Francis and Antonio’s conversation about the new Math teacher’s too-tight pants (not that either boy was complaining), and both the blond and brunet looked up instantly.
“Gilbert?” Antonio started, but the albino was already walking off.
“Is it just me, or was he… crying?” Francis asked, his confusion identical to Antonio’s just then. The two friends exchanged a look, and shook their heads.
“Can’t be. This is Gilbert we’re talking about. Now, let’s just get the gear and see what’ll happen.”
The ‘gear’ was actually a very simple device; a thin, yet somehow sturdy piece of string, with a strong metal hook tied tightly to the end of it. It hadn’t taken the trio long to learn that the regulation uniform pants of their school had a very, very weak clasp, and that with just the right amount of pulling, it was very easy to cause said clasp to become unhooked, thus pantsing whoever their victim was.
Roderich was not all too hard to spot in the cafeteria; he was sitting at his usual table, Elizaveta to his left, Lovino to his right, and Feliciano and Ludwig across from them. Occasionally they would be joined by Antonio, Francis, and Gilbert, but the trio usually preferred to go wreck havoc, annoy instructors, or just go sit in the middle of the hallways and eat to block traffic, depending on the day.
Today, Francis and Antonio stood near to the cafeteria lunch line, waiting as Gilbert snuck off with the hook. Fortunately the cafeteria was busy enough that he managed to slip by unnoticed, crawling up to the table and attaching the hook to an empty belt loop on the boy’s pants. Quickly, before he was noticed, he snuck back to where the other two were waiting, Francis with the other end of the string in hang, waiting for Roderich to stand so that they could do it.
It was almost fifteen minutes before the string was being pulled out of Francis’ hand, and without hesitating, the blond tugged on the string, hard. Instantly pants came falling down, but certainly not the pair the trio had been expecting.
Lovino was unsure what the hell had just happened, but it took his mind a moment to register the fact that the breeze he felt on his thighs was because his pants were sitting around his ankles. Even after that, his mind had blanked for a moment, before his face turned bright, bright red.
“YOU BASTARDS!!!” He shouted violently over the laughter of basically everyone in the room, although his voice verged on hysteria. Quickly, he tugged up his pants to hide red boxers, and bolted out of the lunchroom, adjusting the horrible clasp and trying to ignore the burning in his eyes as he fled.
It was only an instant later that Feliciano was on his twin’s heels, shouting “Stop laughing at him!!” to the amused student body before turning to said brother.
“Wait, Lovi, wait!!”
Then they were both gone.
Francis and Gilbert were completely blanched, the string long since having fallen out of the former’s hand as they looked on in shock as to what they did. It’s not that pantsing Lovino wasn’t fun, but-
But the blanched, shocked expressions on their faces were nothing compared to how frozen and hurt Antonio was.
“L-Lovi…” The name fell off his tongue, and then the Spaniard simply stood and left the cafeteria through the opposing set of doors.
“It looks like we messed up, mon ami.” Francis commented morosely, and Gilbert choked a bit.
“No shit, Sherlock.”
Francis sighed. “So, do we let him wallow in misery, or do we try to fix this?”
Red eyes met blue ones, and it was obvious what they were going to do as they stood up and left the lunchroom, ignoring the shouts from Elizaveta to come over there and pay for what they did; it was Lovino they had to apologize to, anyways.
---------------
“Tonio? What’s up, man?” Gilbert started, once the duo had found the Spaniard on the roof of the building. He had his arms resting against the railing, and was peering through it at the concrete road, obviously depressed.
At the sound of the pseudo-Prussian’s voice, his head snapped up, and tear streaks were obvious on his face, but there was still a horribly forced smile on his face.
“Nothing.”
“You standing on the roof of the building, crying, is not nothing, ami, especially as you’re not too fond of heights.”
“Yeah, so spill. Don’t try to hide stuff from us.” A comforting hand was pressed against each of the Spaniard’s shoulders.
“It’s really nothing, you know. Just…he’ll probably never speak to me again. I… I was going to ask him out. Nothing major, I- I’ll get over it.”
Francis sighed.
“Who is to say he will not hear you out? You cannot take yourself out of the game if you intend to win.”
“But he won’t listen to me…”
“How do you even know that? You haven’t even tried to talk to him yet!” Gilbert exclaimed incredulously. Antonio blinked, sighing.
“I don’t know, guys. Lovino is…stubborn.”
“Now, now, you’ll just have to be even more stubborn-”
“If that’s even possible.”
Francis failed at being subtle when he elbowed Gilbert in the gut.
“Oww-” The albino winced, but he recovered quickly. “I’m with Frenchy on this, just go show him your sexy Spanish charm and there’s no way he can resist you.”
Antonio couldn’t stifle smile at that, but his mood didn’t seem much better.
“You guys don’t think it’s too soon, or that maybe I’ll just make things worse, or-”
“Oh no, no talking yourself out of this one. Come on, we’re going right now.” Gilbert interrupted, grabbing Antonio and dragging him down the stairs again, Francis following to make sure no one tried to make a quick get away.
-------------
The trio had figured that Lovino was probably hiding in the 1st floor boys bathroom, since no one in the school actually used it, and so after the trio’s customary good luck handshake Antonio pushed open the door slowly.
“L-Lovino?”
“He’s not here! Leave us alone!” Feliciano’s voice answered. The younger twin was standing outside of a stall, namely the one his brother had hidden himself in.
Taking a step into the blue tiled restroom, Antonio sighed.
“Please, Lovino, lo siento, I’m sorry. Hear me out, please.”
There was no answer from the stall, but Feliciano looked back and forth from the door to Antonio.
“I think you should listen to him, brother.”
“Why the fuck should I do that?”
Feliciano frowned. “Because it looks like Antonio’s been crying.”
The sound of Lovino scoffing could be heard, but a few moments later, Antonio felt his heart soar when he heard, “Feliciano, leave.”
The younger twin complied quickly, giving Antonio a look before scurrying out.
“Lovino?”
“So, why did you come here, bastard?” Lovino’s voice was choked, as if he’d been crying as well. Antonio felt impossibly more guilty at that.
“I came to apologize, Lovi, we didn’t mean to hurt you. At all. It was a mistake.”
“Hn.” An uncomfortable silence fell upon them.
“Lovi-”
“Don’t call me that, you bastard!”
“Lovino,” Antonio amended. “Won’t you please come out of that stall and talk to me? Pleeeeease?”
The Italian didn’t answer.
“Lovi?”
“Don’t call me that, bastard. If you’ve got nothing to say, just get the fuck out of here.”
Antonio took a deep breath. “I’m sorry that we accidentally got you with our prank; it was meant for Austria, not you.”
“So?”
“So…?”
“So what? It might have been meant for someone else, but I’m the one everyone’s laughing it! Nothing you can say can make that stop, so just get the hell out of here before I pound you into nothing, bastard!!”
Words continued to die on Antonio’s tongue, until in the end he simply sighed.
“I’m sorry, Lovino. I’ll make things right.” He said finally, before leaving the Italian alone in the stalls.
--------------
“Are you sure you want to do this, man? There are plenty of other, much hotter guys out there.”
“Oui, Antonio, in time Lovino will come around on his own. You don’t have to do this now, mon ami.”
“No, guys, I’m going to do.” Emerald eyes shone with fierce determination as the trio spoke in hushed whispers.
It was a school assembly, with every kid in the school crammed into the tiny auditorium. This assembly was about something completely stupid, something like sexual harassment or STDs or alien invasions, and no one in the room was actually listening to the public service announcement Headmaster Vargas was making.
“Suit yourself man; hope they’re clean.” Gilbert said finally, leaning back in hesitant staring at his friend; Antonio simply grinned and stood up.
“Excuse me! I have something I want to say!!”
That certainly got everyone’s attention, including the principal’s. When the room was quiet, Antonio took a deep breath.
“As you guys might already know, earlier today Lovi got pantsed in the cafeteria-” Now there were mutters and laughs, and Antonio could see Lovino slouch in his seat to avoid being seen.
“Yo guys, shut the hell up!” Gilbert called, and the room quieted again. Nodding a thank you, Antonio continued.
“But we didn’t mean to do that to him, and it’s completely unfair of you to laugh at him when he doesn’t deserve it. So, if you guys at going to laugh at Lovi-” Here he paused, undoing the clasp of his own pants and pulling them down to his ankles- “Then you’ll have to laugh at me too!”
No one laughed. Not even at Antonio’s tomato-printed boxers, which were incredibly silly looking, because they were all too in-awe to laugh.
The silence was broken when Alfred stood up and started to cheer.
Soon enough everyone in the room was clapping or cheering along, impressed with Antonio’s bravery, but the Spaniard was disheartened to see Lovino slip out of the auditorium while everyone else was distracted.
“Ehm, if that’s all, Mr. Carriedo.” A teacher said, and Antonio took the cue to pull his pants up again, sitting down with a confused expression.
“So, did you catch sight of the grumpy Italian’s face?”
“He… He left.”
Francis frowned. “Then you’ll have to go after him, naturellement.”
------------------
After the assembly had ended, Antonio was once again led by his friends back to the 1st floor boys’ room (Lovino was a very predictable character), and shoved inside with two identical Cheshire-cat grins.
“Lovino?” Antonio started hesitantly. The Italian was not holed up in a stall this time, but was sitting on the edge of a sink, boredly dragging his fingers over a mirror.
“Why did you do that?” The younger male snapped, glaring at Antonio in the mirror, and not turning to face him at all.
“Huh?”
“Why did you willingly make a fool of yourself in front of the whole school? Were you trying to make fun of me; when I get pantsed everyone laughs, but when you do it, they all cheer for you!!”
Antonio was confused at the reasoning, but it now made sense why Lovino had left in a huff.
“No, no, that’s not what I meant Lovi!!”
“Then what did you mean, dipstick?”
“I knew you weren’t going to accept my apology unless I did something like that. Now they won’t laugh at you anymore, right?”
“Bastard, that’s not what I meant!!” Lovino shouted, before sighing heavily and speaking in a much more controlled voice. “Why did you embarrass yourself in front of the whole school; it’s not like they weren’t going to stop on their own anyways.” He grumbled, crossing his arms tightly over his chest and looking at the cracked tan floor tiles.
Antonio paused, licking his chapped lips as he contemplated an answer.
“Hm… I don’t know why. I guess it’s because you were so upset, and I don’t like it when you’re upset, Lovi.”
Lovino lashed out unexpectedly, punching Antonio lightly in the chest.
“Lovino? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong!”
“I know I’m thick, but I don’t think I’m that bad…”Antonio commented airily. “You’re crying, aren’t you? Tell me what’s wrong…”
“I…I… Nothing!! Get out!”
Antonio took a step forward instead.
“That doesn’t sound like nothing. Please, please tell me, Lovi~”
Lovino thought it was completely unfair that Antonio’s eyes were so earnest and caring. Dropping his gaze to an exposed rusty pipe, he mumbled as incoherently as he could,
“Ithoughtyoudiditbecauseyoucaredaboutme.”
Antonio blinked; of course he would understand. “But I do care about you, Lovi.”
“N-not… like that, bastard.”
“But I do care about you, Lovi.” The Spaniard repeated, and before the Italian could protest again he was pulled into Antonio’s chest.
“I love you, Lovi…” He whispered into the frozen boy’s ear, and Lovino finally reacted. Gripping the back of Antonio’s blazer tightly, he spoke into his chest.
“You too… bastard.”
--------------
“So, so, how did it go?” Gilbert was the one waiting for Antonio and Lovino outside of the restroom, Francis having had run off after Arthur Kirkland a few minutes before (they were still waiting for the sounds of abuse, but surprisingly none were to be heard). Of course, with the way that the Spaniard had his arm wrapped around Lovino’s waist, it was not a question that needed to be answered.
“We have a date this Saturday!” Antonio exclaimed happily, and Gilbert grinned.
“Excellent; welcome to the family, oh grumpy one.” The albino started to ruffle Lovino’s hair, causing the Italian to slap his hand away, and to remove himself from Antonio’s hug.
“Whatever, bastard, don’t touch me. I’m going to find my brother.” And with that, he stalked off, although Antonio didn’t miss the small smile his new boyfriend wore when he left.
“Say ‘hi’ to him for me!” Gilbert laughed.
“In your dreams, loser.” And with that, Lovino had left.
“So, to find out the fate of our amigo?”
It was the oddest scene in the world; so unbelievable, Gilbert had punched Antonio and punched himself multiple times before running off to go puke his guts out.
Francis and Arthur were kissing. Not just kissing, they were full-on making out, noises and touching included, and the image was more disturbing than romantic.
“Man, talk about unresolved sexual tension.” Antonio commented with a wide grin, and it was only then that the two realized they’d been discovered.
“Oui, indeed, today is a good day.” Francis recovered instantly, while Arthur was going red. When the Briton did recover, he was quick to try and untangle himself from the Frenchman, and adjust his loosened tie. He was obviously uncomfortable at having been caught, but none of the others present even seemed bothered by it (though, Gilbert’s retching could still be heard from a nearby trash can).
“Later, frog.” He said finally, pushing Francis away lightly and stalking off.
“See you Saturday, mon cher!!” Francis called after his, blowing kisses which Arthur dutifully ignored.
“You have a date Saturday too? That makes all three of us, doesn’t it?” Antonio commented brightly, and the other two (Gilbert having stopped faking when he heard the Briton go) nodded, a silent agreement to make it a triple date made.
“Oh, there you boys are!!” That was the voice of Professor Vargas, and when the trio turned around (quickly masking their alarm), they found he was not alone; vice-principal/German teacher Professor Weillschmidt was following. Definitely not good.
“Hey professors, what’s up?” Gilbert asked, trying to be chill, but the Italian man simply chuckled.
“You mean, aside from you three admitting to pantsing my grandson, and disturbing my assembly to give a repeat performance, not much.”
“Hehe, sorry about that, professors.”
“You certainly will be. Saturday detention, all three of you. In separate rooms.” Professor Weillschmidt deadpanned, giving them all a look.
“This Saturday? But-”
“Sorry, boys, fitting punishment for your offenses. But I must commend you on what you did for my grandson, Antonio, that was very brave of you.”
“Thanks, sir.” But Antonio wasn’t thankful in the least; especially because the grandson he’d just it for was not going to appreciate being blown off.
“Now, if that’s all, we have a meeting to get to.” The blond vice-principal started, and his boss stood up straighter.
“Right then, goodbye boys.”
“Bye Rome…” The trio sighed in unison, going back on a first-name basis with their principal since they weren’t going to get out of this punishment.
After the administrators were gone, the trio shared a look.
“So, we’re gonna go steal some Hydrochloric Acid from the lab now, aren’t we?”
“Oui.”
“Let’s go!”
And with that, the trio left, arms slung around each other’s so that they moved as one unit, taking the teacher’s only elevator up to the labs in order to go get some toxic chemicals and burn a hold in the side of the school.
After all, they were already in trouble anyways.
End.
Author/Artist: chromatic_coma
Characters/Pairings: Bad Touch Trio-centric- FrUK, Spain/Romano, Prussia/Italy
Rating: T for liberal cursing
Genre: Friendship, Romance
Summary: A day in the life of the Bad Touch Trio as their suffer through their greatest agressor; crushes. Gakuen AU
A Day in the Life
“Wake up, sleepyhead!!”
“Ugghhhh, ’ts toooo early…” Gilbert groaned into his pillow, shoving his face deeper into it when Francis only shook him harder.
“Of course it’s too early, it’s school. Now, come on, Antonio is waiting for us.”
Gilbert then grumbled something incoherent, but after having spend every day of the past 13 years with him, Francis knew it wasn’t very flattering. With a tiny smirk, the French student moved away from his friend’s bed.
“Your loss; that means more food for me~”
“’ood?” The lift in Gilbert’s muffled voice made Francis’ grin grow.
“Of course. Antonio told me he made a Spanish omelet for us, but I guess if you don’t want any-”
Francis could safely say he’d never seen anyone roll out of bed completely tangled up in their cover so quickly.
------
“About time you got here, amigos.” Antonio smiled as Gilbert ran up to the corner, Francis walking at a leisurely pace behind him with a wide smile.
“Francis said you made one of your orgasmic omelets; I want it.”
The Spaniard laughed. “So that’s why you ran up here; and I was actually thinking you might have been happy to see me.”
Gilbert groaned. “Yeah, yeah, happy to see ya Spainy, now can I pleaseee have some food.”
“Mon Dieu, did he actually just beg?”
Antonio blinked. “I believe so. I need to hear it again to believe it, though.”
“PLEASE GUYS!! Ludwig was experimenting last night, tryin’ to make some pasta to impress that cute little Italian, but of course he doesn’t stand a chance against me anyways. After all, he’s anal and is practically made of rock, while I’m 100% hot and 1000% percent awesome-”
Gilbert was cut off by an obviously fake yawn, courtesy of Francis. “Were you going somewhere with this, cher?”
“Don’t interrupt!! As I was saying, he somehow managed to burn the fuckin’ pasta, and then he made me eat it.”
“Oh, you poor thing.” But it was obvious Antonio was trying to hold back laughter, despite his comforting hand on Gilbert shoulder. He reached into the brown paper bag in his hand and pulled out a cleanly cut third of the large omelet, and passed it over the hungry albino. Gilbert did not hesitate to attack the food, something that must have been a “thank you” muttered around a mouthful of food.
Francis’s expression was somewhere between appalled and amused. “It’s fortunate that you made breakfast today, or else he’d still be in bed. Though, it’s also surprising; you’re not much of an early bird either.”
Antonio rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I had some trouble sleeping last night, so I got up early and decided to make the most of the time.”
Francis frowned; Antonio’s smile was just too fake, and how did he miss those bags underneath the brunet’s deep emerald eyes before.
“Is there something you want to share with the class, mon ami?”
Antonio simply looked confused, and Francis shook his head. “Never mind. He will say ‘yes’, you know.”
This time, when Antonio smiled, it was even faker. That is, if the quivering at the corner of his lips was anything to go by…
“Sí, sí,” He answered quickly, grabbing Gilbert (who was already on the last bite of his food) and starting up the street. “Let’s go!”
Francis could only sigh and shake his head, before running up to catch up with the others.
--------------
The trip to school was mostly uneventful (unless you considered Gilbert chasing stray, diseased pigeons around, trying to make them smash into one another something eventful, but by this point Antonio and Francis were so accustomed to it, it was more like background music to their walk), so the sight of the crowded, chaotic hallway was a welcome change to that.
Instantly the trio melted into their usual spots; on his way to his locker, Francis made sure to give Arthur an extra special good morning.
“GAH! You bloody wanker!!” The emerald eyed boy gasped, a hand instinctively moving to cover his sore rear, before he realized exactly where he was putting it and exactly where he was.
Francis winked. “Oh, mon cher, you know you lust for it.” He whispered seductively, causing Arthur’s cheeks to get a healthy flush.
“I ABSOLUTELY DO NOT!! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have class to get to!” Slamming his locker shut, the Briton stalked off through the halls, shouting out a curse at Alfred, the rambunctious American, when the dirty blond wolf-whistled as he walked by.
“Now, now, Alfred, I hope you’re not planning to steal mon lapin from me?”
The broad shouldered jock simply laughed. “As if I’d want a boyfriend with caterpillars for eyebrows!”
“I heard that!!” Arthur called, failing at ignoring the two.
“Fear not, lapin, I love your monstrous facial hair!!”
Never in the history of the Hetalia International Academy had door been slammed so hard.
---------------
“So, strike out again, sexy?” Gilbert laughed when a resigned, disappointed Francis plopped into his seat in homeroom in between the albino and the Spaniard’s (currently empty) chairs. From his place sitting on Francis’ desk, the self-proclaimed Prussian had no trouble poking the blond in the nose when he got no answer.
“Come on, now, I though France was the country of ‘l’amour~’ Cheer up, Frenchy!”
Francis gave a small smile at that. “While that is true, ami, the course of love never did run smooth.”
Antonio, who’d walk in in time to hear the last of Francis’ sentence, seemed concerned.
“So that door slamming before was Arthur, then?”
Gilbert scoffed. “Who else?”
“Some people were saying that you tried to come onto Vash.” Gilbert’s grin matched Antonio’s at those words.
“Ah, so that’s it. I would go for the blond, but only to get a rise out of that prudish Austrian lover of his.” The albino nodded in agreement. “But, this time it was all French over here.”
The Spaniard placed a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Francis. With your sexy French charm, you’ll have him begging with your name in no time.”
Francis sighed. “One can only hope so. But enough about this, how did things go with our cute little grumpy Italian?”
Antonio’s smile dampened, and that was all the answer the others needed.
“You chickened out again?! Man, why am I still hangin’ around with a bunch of fuckin’ pansies.”
“Oh, because you have a date for this Saturday.” Francis replied dryly, as Gilbert sat back down in his seat.
“Nope, but if I wanted one, I’d have one just like that.” He replied, propping his feet up on his desk.
“Oh?”
“Yup.”
“Mr. Weillschmidt, feet off the furniture, please.” At that the class came to attention, everyone taking their seats and pulling out their books as the homeroom and history teacher, a beautiful young woman named Ms. Karpusi, placed her books on the desk.
Annoyed (but not too annoyed; even if she was Heracles’ mom, she was pretty hot), Gilbert dropped his feet back on the floor and smirked.
“Can do, miss.”
Seeing Gilbert exchange grins with his table mates, Ms. Karpusi could only shake her head and sigh, grateful that she was not a pushover teacher; she’d heard some pretty odd things about those three.
-------------
Homeroom and first-period history passed by pretty quickly, and in a miraculous show Gilbert managed to get only one detention during the lesson, after he’d launched a paper plane with crude caricatures of burning pianos and giant moles at Roderich.
Second period was when the trio had to part; Francis, of course, had opted to take French as his foreign language (“It’s hardly foreign to you, bastard!” was what Arthur had complained, but his argument was shot down by the fun-loving headmaster). Antonio had chosen Italian as his language (“But only so you can stare at the cute Italian grump’s ass and not get noticed, right?”), and Gilbert was going to take Italian as well, until he found out Feliciano was in German. But hey, it was no loss to him, after all; if anything, it was another highly useful nap hour.
But not today. Today, Gilbert was going to prove to Francis that he could land a date with anyone, specifically a cute little brunet someone with big chocolately colored eyes and a silly little curl that Gilbert wanted nothing more than to-
“Weillschmidt!!” There was, of course, the unfortunate problem that the school’s one and only German instruction happened to be the most anal person on the planet, and that included Ludwig-
“Sorry, gramps, what was the question?” -Because after all, he had to get from somewhere. A somewhere also known as Professor Weillschmidt, Gilbert and Ludwig’s grandfather.
“In class you will call me ‘Professor’. And pay attention, Weillschmidt, or you’ll be at the receiving up of some rather unfortunate consequences.”
Now Gilbert was pretty stupid, but he wasn’t very stupid, and so he simply nodded.
“Sure thing, professor.” Gramps. There, that was satisfying.
“Excellent.” The blond man drawled sarcastically. His gaze shifted back to the class, before pausing.
“Feliciano. Translate the first three sentences of the passage.” Gilbert nearly almost winced at the harsh tone; someone as soft and cute as that adorable little Italian should never be spoken to in such a cold, distant manner. The albino was suddenly grateful that Germania (yeah, that’s right, his grandfather was named after an old empire. Cool, right?) had absolutely no clue of both of his grandsons’ crushes (although, let the records show that Gilbert was too manly for a crush), because if he was being hard on the Italia now…
The albino visibly shuddered, but it went unnoticed as all of the class’ focus was on Feliciano (including Ludwig’s- ‘oh, Bruder, you’re so going to get it when we go home.’)
When Feliciano started to read, Gilbert felt his heart freeze. The brunet had such an adorable voice, and even though his German accent was complete fail… it was an endearing fail. The white haired boy dropped his head onto his desk, wishing that the damn bell would ring already, so he could start putting those fantasies to action…
Eventually, after another ten minutes of pure agony in the form of boring textbook translations, the bell finally did ring, and Gilbert didn’t hesitate to jump out of his seat and get over to Feliciano’s desk, where the smaller boy was packing his books.
“Hey Feliciano.” He said smoothly, putting on hand on the desk and looming over the Italian a bit, the latter of whom did not notice anything amiss.
Feliciano grinned, “Hello Gilbert!!”
That smile… it was just not fair. How could one little smile be so cute, that it could make Gilbert’s stomach do flip-flops?
The albino simply nodded, mostly to keep himself focused, and asked in the most nonchalant tone he could muster,
“So, wanna go out for pasta this weekend?” Please say yes, pleeeease say yes.
“Really? Yay!!” Gilbert hadn’t realized he was holding this breath, until the affirmative answer allowed him to let it out. A coy smile played on his face.
“Awesome. I’ll come get you Saturday at 5, that good?”
The Italian nodded enthusiastically, his curl bouncing up and down with his head in a way that was too adorable.
“Oh, oh, can we ask Ludwig to come too?”
And that’s when Gilbert visibly blanched. How could Feliciano have not realized that the albino was asking him out on a date, just the two of them alone, without his stupid brother around?
“S-sure…” He stuttered, finding himself too thrown off to even keep his composure to speak properly. “Do what you want.”
Because as much as Gilbert hated to and would never admit it, he couldn’t deny Feliciano anything.
----------------
“Guys, we’re going to pants prissy boy today at lunch. Don’t question it, just get the gear,” was the brief, clipped statement that had interrupted Francis and Antonio’s conversation about the new Math teacher’s too-tight pants (not that either boy was complaining), and both the blond and brunet looked up instantly.
“Gilbert?” Antonio started, but the albino was already walking off.
“Is it just me, or was he… crying?” Francis asked, his confusion identical to Antonio’s just then. The two friends exchanged a look, and shook their heads.
“Can’t be. This is Gilbert we’re talking about. Now, let’s just get the gear and see what’ll happen.”
The ‘gear’ was actually a very simple device; a thin, yet somehow sturdy piece of string, with a strong metal hook tied tightly to the end of it. It hadn’t taken the trio long to learn that the regulation uniform pants of their school had a very, very weak clasp, and that with just the right amount of pulling, it was very easy to cause said clasp to become unhooked, thus pantsing whoever their victim was.
Roderich was not all too hard to spot in the cafeteria; he was sitting at his usual table, Elizaveta to his left, Lovino to his right, and Feliciano and Ludwig across from them. Occasionally they would be joined by Antonio, Francis, and Gilbert, but the trio usually preferred to go wreck havoc, annoy instructors, or just go sit in the middle of the hallways and eat to block traffic, depending on the day.
Today, Francis and Antonio stood near to the cafeteria lunch line, waiting as Gilbert snuck off with the hook. Fortunately the cafeteria was busy enough that he managed to slip by unnoticed, crawling up to the table and attaching the hook to an empty belt loop on the boy’s pants. Quickly, before he was noticed, he snuck back to where the other two were waiting, Francis with the other end of the string in hang, waiting for Roderich to stand so that they could do it.
It was almost fifteen minutes before the string was being pulled out of Francis’ hand, and without hesitating, the blond tugged on the string, hard. Instantly pants came falling down, but certainly not the pair the trio had been expecting.
Lovino was unsure what the hell had just happened, but it took his mind a moment to register the fact that the breeze he felt on his thighs was because his pants were sitting around his ankles. Even after that, his mind had blanked for a moment, before his face turned bright, bright red.
“YOU BASTARDS!!!” He shouted violently over the laughter of basically everyone in the room, although his voice verged on hysteria. Quickly, he tugged up his pants to hide red boxers, and bolted out of the lunchroom, adjusting the horrible clasp and trying to ignore the burning in his eyes as he fled.
It was only an instant later that Feliciano was on his twin’s heels, shouting “Stop laughing at him!!” to the amused student body before turning to said brother.
“Wait, Lovi, wait!!”
Then they were both gone.
Francis and Gilbert were completely blanched, the string long since having fallen out of the former’s hand as they looked on in shock as to what they did. It’s not that pantsing Lovino wasn’t fun, but-
But the blanched, shocked expressions on their faces were nothing compared to how frozen and hurt Antonio was.
“L-Lovi…” The name fell off his tongue, and then the Spaniard simply stood and left the cafeteria through the opposing set of doors.
“It looks like we messed up, mon ami.” Francis commented morosely, and Gilbert choked a bit.
“No shit, Sherlock.”
Francis sighed. “So, do we let him wallow in misery, or do we try to fix this?”
Red eyes met blue ones, and it was obvious what they were going to do as they stood up and left the lunchroom, ignoring the shouts from Elizaveta to come over there and pay for what they did; it was Lovino they had to apologize to, anyways.
---------------
“Tonio? What’s up, man?” Gilbert started, once the duo had found the Spaniard on the roof of the building. He had his arms resting against the railing, and was peering through it at the concrete road, obviously depressed.
At the sound of the pseudo-Prussian’s voice, his head snapped up, and tear streaks were obvious on his face, but there was still a horribly forced smile on his face.
“Nothing.”
“You standing on the roof of the building, crying, is not nothing, ami, especially as you’re not too fond of heights.”
“Yeah, so spill. Don’t try to hide stuff from us.” A comforting hand was pressed against each of the Spaniard’s shoulders.
“It’s really nothing, you know. Just…he’ll probably never speak to me again. I… I was going to ask him out. Nothing major, I- I’ll get over it.”
Francis sighed.
“Who is to say he will not hear you out? You cannot take yourself out of the game if you intend to win.”
“But he won’t listen to me…”
“How do you even know that? You haven’t even tried to talk to him yet!” Gilbert exclaimed incredulously. Antonio blinked, sighing.
“I don’t know, guys. Lovino is…stubborn.”
“Now, now, you’ll just have to be even more stubborn-”
“If that’s even possible.”
Francis failed at being subtle when he elbowed Gilbert in the gut.
“Oww-” The albino winced, but he recovered quickly. “I’m with Frenchy on this, just go show him your sexy Spanish charm and there’s no way he can resist you.”
Antonio couldn’t stifle smile at that, but his mood didn’t seem much better.
“You guys don’t think it’s too soon, or that maybe I’ll just make things worse, or-”
“Oh no, no talking yourself out of this one. Come on, we’re going right now.” Gilbert interrupted, grabbing Antonio and dragging him down the stairs again, Francis following to make sure no one tried to make a quick get away.
-------------
The trio had figured that Lovino was probably hiding in the 1st floor boys bathroom, since no one in the school actually used it, and so after the trio’s customary good luck handshake Antonio pushed open the door slowly.
“L-Lovino?”
“He’s not here! Leave us alone!” Feliciano’s voice answered. The younger twin was standing outside of a stall, namely the one his brother had hidden himself in.
Taking a step into the blue tiled restroom, Antonio sighed.
“Please, Lovino, lo siento, I’m sorry. Hear me out, please.”
There was no answer from the stall, but Feliciano looked back and forth from the door to Antonio.
“I think you should listen to him, brother.”
“Why the fuck should I do that?”
Feliciano frowned. “Because it looks like Antonio’s been crying.”
The sound of Lovino scoffing could be heard, but a few moments later, Antonio felt his heart soar when he heard, “Feliciano, leave.”
The younger twin complied quickly, giving Antonio a look before scurrying out.
“Lovino?”
“So, why did you come here, bastard?” Lovino’s voice was choked, as if he’d been crying as well. Antonio felt impossibly more guilty at that.
“I came to apologize, Lovi, we didn’t mean to hurt you. At all. It was a mistake.”
“Hn.” An uncomfortable silence fell upon them.
“Lovi-”
“Don’t call me that, you bastard!”
“Lovino,” Antonio amended. “Won’t you please come out of that stall and talk to me? Pleeeeease?”
The Italian didn’t answer.
“Lovi?”
“Don’t call me that, bastard. If you’ve got nothing to say, just get the fuck out of here.”
Antonio took a deep breath. “I’m sorry that we accidentally got you with our prank; it was meant for Austria, not you.”
“So?”
“So…?”
“So what? It might have been meant for someone else, but I’m the one everyone’s laughing it! Nothing you can say can make that stop, so just get the hell out of here before I pound you into nothing, bastard!!”
Words continued to die on Antonio’s tongue, until in the end he simply sighed.
“I’m sorry, Lovino. I’ll make things right.” He said finally, before leaving the Italian alone in the stalls.
--------------
“Are you sure you want to do this, man? There are plenty of other, much hotter guys out there.”
“Oui, Antonio, in time Lovino will come around on his own. You don’t have to do this now, mon ami.”
“No, guys, I’m going to do.” Emerald eyes shone with fierce determination as the trio spoke in hushed whispers.
It was a school assembly, with every kid in the school crammed into the tiny auditorium. This assembly was about something completely stupid, something like sexual harassment or STDs or alien invasions, and no one in the room was actually listening to the public service announcement Headmaster Vargas was making.
“Suit yourself man; hope they’re clean.” Gilbert said finally, leaning back in hesitant staring at his friend; Antonio simply grinned and stood up.
“Excuse me! I have something I want to say!!”
That certainly got everyone’s attention, including the principal’s. When the room was quiet, Antonio took a deep breath.
“As you guys might already know, earlier today Lovi got pantsed in the cafeteria-” Now there were mutters and laughs, and Antonio could see Lovino slouch in his seat to avoid being seen.
“Yo guys, shut the hell up!” Gilbert called, and the room quieted again. Nodding a thank you, Antonio continued.
“But we didn’t mean to do that to him, and it’s completely unfair of you to laugh at him when he doesn’t deserve it. So, if you guys at going to laugh at Lovi-” Here he paused, undoing the clasp of his own pants and pulling them down to his ankles- “Then you’ll have to laugh at me too!”
No one laughed. Not even at Antonio’s tomato-printed boxers, which were incredibly silly looking, because they were all too in-awe to laugh.
The silence was broken when Alfred stood up and started to cheer.
Soon enough everyone in the room was clapping or cheering along, impressed with Antonio’s bravery, but the Spaniard was disheartened to see Lovino slip out of the auditorium while everyone else was distracted.
“Ehm, if that’s all, Mr. Carriedo.” A teacher said, and Antonio took the cue to pull his pants up again, sitting down with a confused expression.
“So, did you catch sight of the grumpy Italian’s face?”
“He… He left.”
Francis frowned. “Then you’ll have to go after him, naturellement.”
------------------
After the assembly had ended, Antonio was once again led by his friends back to the 1st floor boys’ room (Lovino was a very predictable character), and shoved inside with two identical Cheshire-cat grins.
“Lovino?” Antonio started hesitantly. The Italian was not holed up in a stall this time, but was sitting on the edge of a sink, boredly dragging his fingers over a mirror.
“Why did you do that?” The younger male snapped, glaring at Antonio in the mirror, and not turning to face him at all.
“Huh?”
“Why did you willingly make a fool of yourself in front of the whole school? Were you trying to make fun of me; when I get pantsed everyone laughs, but when you do it, they all cheer for you!!”
Antonio was confused at the reasoning, but it now made sense why Lovino had left in a huff.
“No, no, that’s not what I meant Lovi!!”
“Then what did you mean, dipstick?”
“I knew you weren’t going to accept my apology unless I did something like that. Now they won’t laugh at you anymore, right?”
“Bastard, that’s not what I meant!!” Lovino shouted, before sighing heavily and speaking in a much more controlled voice. “Why did you embarrass yourself in front of the whole school; it’s not like they weren’t going to stop on their own anyways.” He grumbled, crossing his arms tightly over his chest and looking at the cracked tan floor tiles.
Antonio paused, licking his chapped lips as he contemplated an answer.
“Hm… I don’t know why. I guess it’s because you were so upset, and I don’t like it when you’re upset, Lovi.”
Lovino lashed out unexpectedly, punching Antonio lightly in the chest.
“Lovino? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong!”
“I know I’m thick, but I don’t think I’m that bad…”Antonio commented airily. “You’re crying, aren’t you? Tell me what’s wrong…”
“I…I… Nothing!! Get out!”
Antonio took a step forward instead.
“That doesn’t sound like nothing. Please, please tell me, Lovi~”
Lovino thought it was completely unfair that Antonio’s eyes were so earnest and caring. Dropping his gaze to an exposed rusty pipe, he mumbled as incoherently as he could,
“Ithoughtyoudiditbecauseyoucaredaboutme.”
Antonio blinked; of course he would understand. “But I do care about you, Lovi.”
“N-not… like that, bastard.”
“But I do care about you, Lovi.” The Spaniard repeated, and before the Italian could protest again he was pulled into Antonio’s chest.
“I love you, Lovi…” He whispered into the frozen boy’s ear, and Lovino finally reacted. Gripping the back of Antonio’s blazer tightly, he spoke into his chest.
“You too… bastard.”
--------------
“So, so, how did it go?” Gilbert was the one waiting for Antonio and Lovino outside of the restroom, Francis having had run off after Arthur Kirkland a few minutes before (they were still waiting for the sounds of abuse, but surprisingly none were to be heard). Of course, with the way that the Spaniard had his arm wrapped around Lovino’s waist, it was not a question that needed to be answered.
“We have a date this Saturday!” Antonio exclaimed happily, and Gilbert grinned.
“Excellent; welcome to the family, oh grumpy one.” The albino started to ruffle Lovino’s hair, causing the Italian to slap his hand away, and to remove himself from Antonio’s hug.
“Whatever, bastard, don’t touch me. I’m going to find my brother.” And with that, he stalked off, although Antonio didn’t miss the small smile his new boyfriend wore when he left.
“Say ‘hi’ to him for me!” Gilbert laughed.
“In your dreams, loser.” And with that, Lovino had left.
“So, to find out the fate of our amigo?”
It was the oddest scene in the world; so unbelievable, Gilbert had punched Antonio and punched himself multiple times before running off to go puke his guts out.
Francis and Arthur were kissing. Not just kissing, they were full-on making out, noises and touching included, and the image was more disturbing than romantic.
“Man, talk about unresolved sexual tension.” Antonio commented with a wide grin, and it was only then that the two realized they’d been discovered.
“Oui, indeed, today is a good day.” Francis recovered instantly, while Arthur was going red. When the Briton did recover, he was quick to try and untangle himself from the Frenchman, and adjust his loosened tie. He was obviously uncomfortable at having been caught, but none of the others present even seemed bothered by it (though, Gilbert’s retching could still be heard from a nearby trash can).
“Later, frog.” He said finally, pushing Francis away lightly and stalking off.
“See you Saturday, mon cher!!” Francis called after his, blowing kisses which Arthur dutifully ignored.
“You have a date Saturday too? That makes all three of us, doesn’t it?” Antonio commented brightly, and the other two (Gilbert having stopped faking when he heard the Briton go) nodded, a silent agreement to make it a triple date made.
“Oh, there you boys are!!” That was the voice of Professor Vargas, and when the trio turned around (quickly masking their alarm), they found he was not alone; vice-principal/German teacher Professor Weillschmidt was following. Definitely not good.
“Hey professors, what’s up?” Gilbert asked, trying to be chill, but the Italian man simply chuckled.
“You mean, aside from you three admitting to pantsing my grandson, and disturbing my assembly to give a repeat performance, not much.”
“Hehe, sorry about that, professors.”
“You certainly will be. Saturday detention, all three of you. In separate rooms.” Professor Weillschmidt deadpanned, giving them all a look.
“This Saturday? But-”
“Sorry, boys, fitting punishment for your offenses. But I must commend you on what you did for my grandson, Antonio, that was very brave of you.”
“Thanks, sir.” But Antonio wasn’t thankful in the least; especially because the grandson he’d just it for was not going to appreciate being blown off.
“Now, if that’s all, we have a meeting to get to.” The blond vice-principal started, and his boss stood up straighter.
“Right then, goodbye boys.”
“Bye Rome…” The trio sighed in unison, going back on a first-name basis with their principal since they weren’t going to get out of this punishment.
After the administrators were gone, the trio shared a look.
“So, we’re gonna go steal some Hydrochloric Acid from the lab now, aren’t we?”
“Oui.”
“Let’s go!”
And with that, the trio left, arms slung around each other’s so that they moved as one unit, taking the teacher’s only elevator up to the labs in order to go get some toxic chemicals and burn a hold in the side of the school.
After all, they were already in trouble anyways.
End.