Unfotunate [1/?]
anonymous
December 1 2009, 17:56:28 UTC
Option 2 was still unfilled, wasn't it? Aah, I'm sorry about grammar and such, I just kinda spread this out real quickly. xD -- Sometimes Lovino liked to sit down and ponder over the inferiority complex he harbored for his little brother. (He used the word "sometimes" but it was more like his whole life, really.) Usually it made him feel, well, inferior for the lack of a better word, but now it was nothing but utter irk and self loath.
You see, were it not for his grandfather, old and quite senile as he was, smiling at Feliciano and telling him to go on ahead and make dinner for the three of them (Feliciano was better a cook than him) and ask for Lovino to stay and run errands for him after school, Lovino would have been long gone from the house of education before the bells had even rung. Lovino, of course, was not one to be ordered around like this, but his grandfather, also known as the school's principal, had won the argument by promising no dinner were he to fail to get his ass moving. Lovino's attempts to humiliate the man to back away from his threat by laughing at the light pink note on top of the pile of papers, saying: “I'm sorry Germania, please speak to me again ): ,” had been replied by a look that will have a special place in his nightmares, no doubt.
So, on his way he was, walking down the hallways of the senior building to dump the papers of great importance, he was sure and sarcastic, on the desk of the school counselor's (why the blond German insisted his office was to be located as far from the principal's as possible, one could only guess.)
While Lovino could live with the fact that Feliciano was better with the culinary arts than him, he despised the fact that he was also better at making friends than him, and not because he was jealous and kinda lonely, because that was not the case, but because he had befriended the counselor's grandson, Potato-bastard-what'shisname. And while Germania was rather tolerable, Feliciano's new buttbuddy was far from it. That was a rant for another day though, because if he thought he couldn't stand Potato-macho, then he had no words to describe his brother, Gilbert. (Gilbert, who he wouldn't have even gotten to know were it not for Feliciano!)
Gilbert, the last person he wanted to see on an empty hallway with no one to witness what might happen, had been just there, greeted him and grinned from ear to ear with such a sense of self-satisfaction that Lovino was surprised his ego even fit in the building.
“What's little Lovino doing here?” He had asked and strode after him, not getting a hint even if Lovino had done a wonderful job in ignoring him.
“Don't you have better things to do than to hang out in empty schools?” Lovino had barked back, trying to quicken his pace when the other started to catch up.
“I'm just waiting for my friend,” Gilbert had said, catching up because of something like longer legs, but Lovino didn't feel like feeling inferior about silly things like that. “But you know I'd ditch him for you any day.” A wink, Lovino was sure there had been one.
“Go to hell,” Lovino could remember himself saying, but he might be wrong because he says that so often. After that it had been his back against a wall, a smirk from Gilbert and an attempt of a kiss, followed with a row of curses, a kick from Lovino's side and then a very Italian escape.
And while Lovino reluctantly admitted feeling a little inferior to his little brother about most things, there was one thing that he was on the same level as him, if not even above. Lovino wasn't as dimwitted. Lovino wasn't stupid.
But God-fucking-dammit if it was contagious, because Lovino would never run away from Gilbert into the closest room that had its door wide open, slam it shut behind him and stand in the dark room feeling like he had just won. He would never do that, because that would be stupid.
Unfotunate [2/?]
anonymous
December 1 2009, 18:06:35 UTC
“Aw, c'mon, Lovino! Open up the door for me, why don't cha?” Gilbert cooed from the other side, apparently already recovered from the kick Lovino had planted on his shin.
About to curse his chaser to whatever hell he had spawned from, Lovino stopped on his tracks when he heard another voice from the room.
“Eh? Who shut the door?”
“Huh?” Gilbert said, head obviously pressed against the door. “Antonio, is that you?”
It was still pitch black in the room Lovino had run into, so he couldn't see the other person in there, but if the damned German knew him, it couldn't be good news.
“Dude, open the door!” The door was rattling, locked and at least giving Lovino the satisfaction in knowing that Gilbert was stuck on the other side. “My prey just ran in there,” came the whine.
There was a small, confused voice from character Antonio, but he moved towards the door anyway, bumping into Lovino while he was at it. “Ah, lo siento,” he heard the other mutter in the dark. It took mere seconds for Lovino to consider between having to see Gilbert face to face again or to be stuck in the dark with a stranger a little bit longer, and sooner than he could even decide that the latter would win any day, his hand was already on Antonio's, holding it tight to stop the other from opening the door.
“Don't open it,” he hissed, hoping that the annoyance on the other side wouldn't hear him.
The other seemed a bit dimwitted, pausing in his actions before leaning closer to Lovino, lips accidentally brushing Lovino's hairline as he whispered, “why not,” as if it was a grand secret he desperately wanted to be a part of. Not used to such close contact from someone who wasn't family or someone Lovino planned to run away from, the Italian felt his cheeks heat up.
“Idiot,” he said and put his hand on the other's face to push him away, but it was no good when he could feel a smile against the palm of his hand. “J-just wait until he leaves or something.”
“Sorry, no can do,” and so Antonio continued to try and open the door. “Huh?”
“Hurry up,” Gilbert said impatiently. “I'm not gonna wait for you if you get stuck in the closet, Antonio!”
“I-it won't open,” Antonio said a bit panicky, as he in turn rattled the door.
“You have to be fucking kidding me!” Both Lovino and Gilbert wailed at the same time. It was one thing to fake being stuck, another to actually get stuck. And God was it humiliating, especially when Gilbert opened his mouth to speak with a smugness in his tone that made Lovino's skin crawl. “Well!”
Lovino was not going to beg. He wasn't going to do any favors in exchange of being let out and he most definitely wasn't going to give up on the self-appointed five meter restraining order he had planted on Feliciano's (goddamn him) friend's (him too) older brother (him most of all.)
“I suppose you both know what's required in exchange for my helpful services, am I right?” Lovino couldn't see the lecherous smirk, but that didn't stop it from smacking him in the face, making him squirm in disgust.
“Vaffanculo!” From time to time, he accidentally slipped into Italian, but it didn't matter when the tone of his voice was enough to express the meaning of his words.
“What was that, Lovino? Not a rejection, I hope?” Gilbert said, apparently a bit put out. “Because there's only so many times I'll allow you to reject me without any consequences, you know?”
Fuck the consequences, if only that idiot would take a hint already and stop skirt chasing him for whatever sick pleasure he got from doing that, Lovino seethed.
“Fine then,” the German sighed, trying to act all dramatic even though he hardly managed to cover up the mirth in his words. “Hey, Antonio!”
Said Antonio was still fiddling with the door, as if it would open if he continued to do it non-stop for the rest of his life.
“He's very cute, just so you know,” Gilbert said, and the door stopped rattling. “And young.”
Re: Unfotunate [2b/?]
anonymous
December 1 2009, 18:10:30 UTC
So yes, Lovino could feel inferior to his brother who-did-not-get-stuck-in-closets all he wanted, and he could hate his grandfather for making him stay after school with all his heart. But sometimes, in example right now, as he could practically feel Antonio turn around slowly to search the outlines of his figure in the dark, Lovino just felt like sinking to the floor and weep how he resented life in general. Life, it seemed, deemed the feeling to be mutual.
Re: Unfotunate [2b/?]
anonymous
December 1 2009, 19:41:21 UTC
“And young.”
FFFFFFFF I lol'd. Actually, I laughed throughout most of this because you are clever (FIVE METER RESTRAINING ORDER AGAINST GILBERT, oh god) and awesome and have Lovino's voice down so damn well already. Your grammar's just fine, too, so I don't know what you're worried about.
Re: Unfotunate [2b/?]
anonymous
December 1 2009, 21:42:19 UTC
Am I horribly twisted for not being able to think anything but "Bilgert can still reach you, Lovi~" when the five meter restraining order was mentioned? Eh, probably.
And oh ♥ I can just picture Antonio freezing up and turning towards Lovino when Gilbert tells him he's cute and young. I was half expecting to hear a buhyo as he entered his pedo-mode... 'm sorry Spain but you are
This fill is great x) Looking forward to the next part.
Captcha apparently knows I'm watching Alien vs. predator right now o.o
UnfoRtunate [3a/?]
anonymous
December 2 2009, 19:44:37 UTC
I-I managed to misspell the title. OTL -- Long gone were the last echoes of Gilbert's Schadenfreude, the hallways now hopelessly empty of people with enough of a heart to take pity on them and help open the door. It was a situation that took a while for Lovino to digest, but he was getting there.
The room he had ran into was, in fact, the janitor's cupboard, thus small and filled with cleaning equipment and other suspicious stuff that he didn't even try and begin to identify. The door was jammed and didn't open even if he tried to kick it down. On top of that, the lights didn't work, apparently burnt out, that being the reason why Antonio had kept the door open to get light from the hallway to be able to see whatever it was he had been searching for. Lovino suspected it had something to do with the suspicious items in the room, but Antonio was keen to change the subject whenever that came up. Also, both of their bags were left in classrooms or wherever, and that meant no cellphones either.
Fuck his life.
“So as I was saying,” Antonio started again, annoyingly talkative as Lovino had the displeasure of noticing during the past two hours or so they had shared the small room. “You should call me Boss.”
Only if you call me jailbait, Lovino almost spit, but kept his mouth shut because this guy was not the sharpest tool in the box and shined only with his complete lack of getting sarcasm as it should be taken. That was also the reason Lovino did not use the sentence 'suck my ass' or anything as beautiful with the eff word in it, in fear that they'd be taken literally.
“I like cute henchmen,” Antonio continued, making Lovino try and withdraw further into the corner he had pressed himself against. It was no good though, because the room was small and apparently Antonio had no intentions to consider no ones personal space, and so Lovino could feel the other's leg brush his from time to time.
“Don't you ever shut up?” Lovino groaned from where he had pressed his face against his folded knees, knowing the other couldn't see his glare in the dark but giving him one despite that.
“Huh?” It was more in the department of honest surprise than it was an offended sound. Never mind sarcasm, Antonio missed the insults as well. “That's funny, sometimes Francis asks me the same thing.”
Francis. Must be another member of the posse of losers these people consisted of. Something about that name was a little bit familiar, though Lovino wasn't one to make a habit out of remembering the names of some random males at his school.
“And then he kisses me,” Antonio chuckled.
“What!?”
“I know, right,” still laughing, Antonio continued like it was a silly joke indeed. “And I keep telling him that no matter how much tongue he uses he'll eventually run out of breath and I can talk all I want again.” Lovino found himself less amused that his closet mate, though.
“I- I don't want to hear this. Just- just shut up, will you?” It came out more desperate than angry, but he was fine with that for now.
“Oh, Lovi! You are cute,” he heard Antonio gush and inch closer to him. He tried to show what he thought about the advances being made by giving the other a poorly aimed kick.
“It's Lovino, you idiot,” he bit, making a mop fall in the direction Antonio was sitting in, the wooden handle of the cleaning equipment landing on something, and by the hollow sound caused by the contact, Lovino assumed it had been Antonio's head, even though there was no 'ouch'.
“I really want you to be my cute little henchman, though,” Antonio said with all sincerity, as if the request wasn't odd in the slightest.
Re: Unfortunate [3b/?]
anonymous
December 2 2009, 19:50:06 UTC
“What if I don't want an old and ugly boss like you?” Lovino grumbled back, wrapping his arms tighter around his knees.
“Hey, I'm not either of those,” Antonio protested, almost making Lovino's heart jump in joy in thinking that the other could get offended after all. So the misery in this room wasn't all one-sided.
“Or so you say,” Lovino said, taunt in his voice. “But I can't really see you so how can I be sure?”
“We share the same school, so I can't be that old,” the other reasoned, and Lovino wondered why Antonio hadn't used that fact to get disappointed over Lovino not being that young either. “And I'm quite handsome, too,” Antonio continued, his assumed smile filling the whole room.
“Right,” and there he was being sarcastic again. “How handsome exactly?”
“How handsome, you ask,” Antonio muttered, and Lovino imagined him scratching his cheek as he struggled to find the right words. “Well, I don't masturbate to the mirror like Gilbert and Francis do sometimes, if that's what you mean.”
That night, a new legend was born about a poor, bullied soul that haunted their school, screaming in agony for his tormentor to stop telling him things he did not want to hear. -- The fluff is there, I feel it coming! Just be patient anons? TwT
Unfortunate [4a/?]
anonymous
December 7 2009, 19:32:08 UTC
“Lovino,” Antonio whined from the other side of the closet, which wasn't that far away. “Hey, Lovino?”
He could feel a leg poking his own, begging for attention and Lovino grumbled begrudgingly. “What now?”
“It's uncomfortable,” Antonio informed him, as if Lovino was unaware of the lack of soft things to lean onto in the room. “And cold,” another thing Lovino couldn't help but notice as well, with the night creeping in and common sense that assumed that there was no need to heat up a storage room for cleaning equipments. He would've loved to complain about these things too, but with him being part of the reason they were trapped in the first place (he shared the blame with grandpa, Feliciano, Potato-bastard, Gilbert, God and Antonio) Lovino felt like he had little right to complain, if only to avoid being reminded that it was most totally all his fault.
“What the hell do you want me to do about it,” he spat instead, his annoyance growing the more Antonio kept on talking. And Antonio talked. A lot.
“Let me spoon you,” came the too cheerful reply, followed by scooting sounds that were definitely heading towards him.
“You,” Lovino's first defense was a kick aimed at the general direction. “Don't even think about it,” he seethed.
Unfortunately his leg did hit something rather soft, followed by a small 'oof', but was then caught by an arm, surprisingly tenacious.
“That's not cute at all, Lovino,” Antonio pouted, letting go only when Lovino struggled enough, his leg hitting painfully against the wall behind him because he had been pulling too hard and there had been no warning that he was let go. A fine line of curses followed.
“You can shove your stupid obsession with cute up your ass!” Really, there were a lot of things Lovino could list what he hated about people, but if he ever needed to summarize it into a one name alone, Antonio would sound just about right. “I won't have no friend of Gilbert's touching me in any way, so keep to your own goddamn side, bastard!”
“It's true that we are friends,” Antonio started, still sounding cheerful, leg coming to poke Lovino again. “But please don't dump me into the same category as him.”
“Why not? Aren't you all dimwitted bastards,” Lovino asked, slightly disappointed that the spiteful smirk on his face was left unseen. “Why do you associate with him anyway? What kind of a 'friend' leaves you to rot into a closet over night?”
“A bad one, I suppose,” Antonio chuckled.
“You're gonna get even with him, right” he demanded, growing more cheerful now that there was a foul vendetta he could look forward to.
“I'm not sure if I have any reason to,” Antonio said, voice more quiet now, as if he was holding something back. It only managed to arouse Lovino's suspicions.
“And why's that?”
“Because-” the other began, voice raising an octave, “because he locked me in here with you!” And that was when Lovino felt himself being grabbed from the floor, easily lifted like he weighted nothing at all and repositioned onto Antonio's lap, warm arms circling around him to keep him in place when the shock finally evaporated enough that he realized to squirm and protest.
“W-what the fuck,” he all but screamed, twisting and trashing and blushing and oh God. “Chigii! Let go of me you- you pervert!”
But Antonio didn't let go, just kept his hold and let out a strange 'buhyoo' sound in between the mantra of “Lovi is so cute~”
--
Sometimes Lovino liked to sit down and ponder over the inferiority complex he harbored for his little brother. (He used the word "sometimes" but it was more like his whole life, really.) Usually it made him feel, well, inferior for the lack of a better word, but now it was nothing but utter irk and self loath.
You see, were it not for his grandfather, old and quite senile as he was, smiling at Feliciano and telling him to go on ahead and make dinner for the three of them (Feliciano was better a cook than him) and ask for Lovino to stay and run errands for him after school, Lovino would have been long gone from the house of education before the bells had even rung. Lovino, of course, was not one to be ordered around like this, but his grandfather, also known as the school's principal, had won the argument by promising no dinner were he to fail to get his ass moving. Lovino's attempts to humiliate the man to back away from his threat by laughing at the light pink note on top of the pile of papers, saying: “I'm sorry Germania, please speak to me again ): ,” had been replied by a look that will have a special place in his nightmares, no doubt.
So, on his way he was, walking down the hallways of the senior building to dump the papers of great importance, he was sure and sarcastic, on the desk of the school counselor's (why the blond German insisted his office was to be located as far from the principal's as possible, one could only guess.)
While Lovino could live with the fact that Feliciano was better with the culinary arts than him, he despised the fact that he was also better at making friends than him, and not because he was jealous and kinda lonely, because that was not the case, but because he had befriended the counselor's grandson, Potato-bastard-what'shisname. And while Germania was rather tolerable, Feliciano's new buttbuddy was far from it. That was a rant for another day though, because if he thought he couldn't stand Potato-macho, then he had no words to describe his brother, Gilbert. (Gilbert, who he wouldn't have even gotten to know were it not for Feliciano!)
Gilbert, the last person he wanted to see on an empty hallway with no one to witness what might happen, had been just there, greeted him and grinned from ear to ear with such a sense of self-satisfaction that Lovino was surprised his ego even fit in the building.
“What's little Lovino doing here?” He had asked and strode after him, not getting a hint even if Lovino had done a wonderful job in ignoring him.
“Don't you have better things to do than to hang out in empty schools?” Lovino had barked back, trying to quicken his pace when the other started to catch up.
“I'm just waiting for my friend,” Gilbert had said, catching up because of something like longer legs, but Lovino didn't feel like feeling inferior about silly things like that. “But you know I'd ditch him for you any day.” A wink, Lovino was sure there had been one.
“Go to hell,” Lovino could remember himself saying, but he might be wrong because he says that so often. After that it had been his back against a wall, a smirk from Gilbert and an attempt of a kiss, followed with a row of curses, a kick from Lovino's side and then a very Italian escape.
And while Lovino reluctantly admitted feeling a little inferior to his little brother about most things, there was one thing that he was on the same level as him, if not even above. Lovino wasn't as dimwitted. Lovino wasn't stupid.
But God-fucking-dammit if it was contagious, because Lovino would never run away from Gilbert into the closest room that had its door wide open, slam it shut behind him and stand in the dark room feeling like he had just won. He would never do that, because that would be stupid.
But that's exactly what he had just done.
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About to curse his chaser to whatever hell he had spawned from, Lovino stopped on his tracks when he heard another voice from the room.
“Eh? Who shut the door?”
“Huh?” Gilbert said, head obviously pressed against the door. “Antonio, is that you?”
It was still pitch black in the room Lovino had run into, so he couldn't see the other person in there, but if the damned German knew him, it couldn't be good news.
“Dude, open the door!” The door was rattling, locked and at least giving Lovino the satisfaction in knowing that Gilbert was stuck on the other side. “My prey just ran in there,” came the whine.
There was a small, confused voice from character Antonio, but he moved towards the door anyway, bumping into Lovino while he was at it. “Ah, lo siento,” he heard the other mutter in the dark. It took mere seconds for Lovino to consider between having to see Gilbert face to face again or to be stuck in the dark with a stranger a little bit longer, and sooner than he could even decide that the latter would win any day, his hand was already on Antonio's, holding it tight to stop the other from opening the door.
“Don't open it,” he hissed, hoping that the annoyance on the other side wouldn't hear him.
The other seemed a bit dimwitted, pausing in his actions before leaning closer to Lovino, lips accidentally brushing Lovino's hairline as he whispered, “why not,” as if it was a grand secret he desperately wanted to be a part of. Not used to such close contact from someone who wasn't family or someone Lovino planned to run away from, the Italian felt his cheeks heat up.
“Idiot,” he said and put his hand on the other's face to push him away, but it was no good when he could feel a smile against the palm of his hand. “J-just wait until he leaves or something.”
“Sorry, no can do,” and so Antonio continued to try and open the door. “Huh?”
“Hurry up,” Gilbert said impatiently. “I'm not gonna wait for you if you get stuck in the closet, Antonio!”
“I-it won't open,” Antonio said a bit panicky, as he in turn rattled the door.
“You have to be fucking kidding me!” Both Lovino and Gilbert wailed at the same time. It was one thing to fake being stuck, another to actually get stuck. And God was it humiliating, especially when Gilbert opened his mouth to speak with a smugness in his tone that made Lovino's skin crawl. “Well!”
Lovino was not going to beg. He wasn't going to do any favors in exchange of being let out and he most definitely wasn't going to give up on the self-appointed five meter restraining order he had planted on Feliciano's (goddamn him) friend's (him too) older brother (him most of all.)
“I suppose you both know what's required in exchange for my helpful services, am I right?” Lovino couldn't see the lecherous smirk, but that didn't stop it from smacking him in the face, making him squirm in disgust.
“Vaffanculo!” From time to time, he accidentally slipped into Italian, but it didn't matter when the tone of his voice was enough to express the meaning of his words.
“What was that, Lovino? Not a rejection, I hope?” Gilbert said, apparently a bit put out. “Because there's only so many times I'll allow you to reject me without any consequences, you know?”
Fuck the consequences, if only that idiot would take a hint already and stop skirt chasing him for whatever sick pleasure he got from doing that, Lovino seethed.
“Fine then,” the German sighed, trying to act all dramatic even though he hardly managed to cover up the mirth in his words. “Hey, Antonio!”
Said Antonio was still fiddling with the door, as if it would open if he continued to do it non-stop for the rest of his life.
“He's very cute, just so you know,” Gilbert said, and the door stopped rattling. “And young.”
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♥ this, anon! please continue!
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FFFFFFFF I lol'd. Actually, I laughed throughout most of this because you are clever (FIVE METER RESTRAINING ORDER AGAINST GILBERT, oh god) and awesome and have Lovino's voice down so damn well already. Your grammar's just fine, too, so I don't know what you're worried about.
Looking forward to more!
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And oh ♥ I can just picture Antonio freezing up and turning towards Lovino when Gilbert tells him he's cute and young. I was half expecting to hear a buhyo as he entered his pedo-mode... 'm sorry Spain but you are
This fill is great x) Looking forward to the next part.
Captcha apparently knows I'm watching Alien vs. predator right now o.o
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XD clearly that was supposed to say Gilbert...
orz orz orz orz
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Bilgert sounds kinda naughty though~
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Also very much enjoying the fill, Author!anon, just in case you ever venture back here. :3
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--
Long gone were the last echoes of Gilbert's Schadenfreude, the hallways now hopelessly empty of people with enough of a heart to take pity on them and help open the door. It was a situation that took a while for Lovino to digest, but he was getting there.
The room he had ran into was, in fact, the janitor's cupboard, thus small and filled with cleaning equipment and other suspicious stuff that he didn't even try and begin to identify. The door was jammed and didn't open even if he tried to kick it down. On top of that, the lights didn't work, apparently burnt out, that being the reason why Antonio had kept the door open to get light from the hallway to be able to see whatever it was he had been searching for. Lovino suspected it had something to do with the suspicious items in the room, but Antonio was keen to change the subject whenever that came up. Also, both of their bags were left in classrooms or wherever, and that meant no cellphones either.
Fuck his life.
“So as I was saying,” Antonio started again, annoyingly talkative as Lovino had the displeasure of noticing during the past two hours or so they had shared the small room. “You should call me Boss.”
Only if you call me jailbait, Lovino almost spit, but kept his mouth shut because this guy was not the sharpest tool in the box and shined only with his complete lack of getting sarcasm as it should be taken. That was also the reason Lovino did not use the sentence 'suck my ass' or anything as beautiful with the eff word in it, in fear that they'd be taken literally.
“I like cute henchmen,” Antonio continued, making Lovino try and withdraw further into the corner he had pressed himself against. It was no good though, because the room was small and apparently Antonio had no intentions to consider no ones personal space, and so Lovino could feel the other's leg brush his from time to time.
“Don't you ever shut up?” Lovino groaned from where he had pressed his face against his folded knees, knowing the other couldn't see his glare in the dark but giving him one despite that.
“Huh?” It was more in the department of honest surprise than it was an offended sound. Never mind sarcasm, Antonio missed the insults as well. “That's funny, sometimes Francis asks me the same thing.”
Francis. Must be another member of the posse of losers these people consisted of. Something about that name was a little bit familiar, though Lovino wasn't one to make a habit out of remembering the names of some random males at his school.
“And then he kisses me,” Antonio chuckled.
“What!?”
“I know, right,” still laughing, Antonio continued like it was a silly joke indeed. “And I keep telling him that no matter how much tongue he uses he'll eventually run out of breath and I can talk all I want again.” Lovino found himself less amused that his closet mate, though.
“I- I don't want to hear this. Just- just shut up, will you?” It came out more desperate than angry, but he was fine with that for now.
“Oh, Lovi! You are cute,” he heard Antonio gush and inch closer to him. He tried to show what he thought about the advances being made by giving the other a poorly aimed kick.
“It's Lovino, you idiot,” he bit, making a mop fall in the direction Antonio was sitting in, the wooden handle of the cleaning equipment landing on something, and by the hollow sound caused by the contact, Lovino assumed it had been Antonio's head, even though there was no 'ouch'.
“I really want you to be my cute little henchman, though,” Antonio said with all sincerity, as if the request wasn't odd in the slightest.
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“Hey, I'm not either of those,” Antonio protested, almost making Lovino's heart jump in joy in thinking that the other could get offended after all. So the misery in this room wasn't all one-sided.
“Or so you say,” Lovino said, taunt in his voice. “But I can't really see you so how can I be sure?”
“We share the same school, so I can't be that old,” the other reasoned, and Lovino wondered why Antonio hadn't used that fact to get disappointed over Lovino not being that young either. “And I'm quite handsome, too,” Antonio continued, his assumed smile filling the whole room.
“Right,” and there he was being sarcastic again. “How handsome exactly?”
“How handsome, you ask,” Antonio muttered, and Lovino imagined him scratching his cheek as he struggled to find the right words. “Well, I don't masturbate to the mirror like Gilbert and Francis do sometimes, if that's what you mean.”
That night, a new legend was born about a poor, bullied soul that haunted their school, screaming in agony for his tormentor to stop telling him things he did not want to hear.
--
The fluff is there, I feel it coming! Just be patient anons? TwT
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I read this at work, so I wasn't able to squee like I wanted to. A second reading is planned!
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Please finish? ReCaptcha offers $600 if you do!
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He could feel a leg poking his own, begging for attention and Lovino grumbled begrudgingly. “What now?”
“It's uncomfortable,” Antonio informed him, as if Lovino was unaware of the lack of soft things to lean onto in the room. “And cold,” another thing Lovino couldn't help but notice as well, with the night creeping in and common sense that assumed that there was no need to heat up a storage room for cleaning equipments. He would've loved to complain about these things too, but with him being part of the reason they were trapped in the first place (he shared the blame with grandpa, Feliciano, Potato-bastard, Gilbert, God and Antonio) Lovino felt like he had little right to complain, if only to avoid being reminded that it was most totally all his fault.
“What the hell do you want me to do about it,” he spat instead, his annoyance growing the more Antonio kept on talking. And Antonio talked. A lot.
“Let me spoon you,” came the too cheerful reply, followed by scooting sounds that were definitely heading towards him.
“You,” Lovino's first defense was a kick aimed at the general direction. “Don't even think about it,” he seethed.
Unfortunately his leg did hit something rather soft, followed by a small 'oof', but was then caught by an arm, surprisingly tenacious.
“That's not cute at all, Lovino,” Antonio pouted, letting go only when Lovino struggled enough, his leg hitting painfully against the wall behind him because he had been pulling too hard and there had been no warning that he was let go. A fine line of curses followed.
“You can shove your stupid obsession with cute up your ass!” Really, there were a lot of things Lovino could list what he hated about people, but if he ever needed to summarize it into a one name alone, Antonio would sound just about right. “I won't have no friend of Gilbert's touching me in any way, so keep to your own goddamn side, bastard!”
“It's true that we are friends,” Antonio started, still sounding cheerful, leg coming to poke Lovino again. “But please don't dump me into the same category as him.”
“Why not? Aren't you all dimwitted bastards,” Lovino asked, slightly disappointed that the spiteful smirk on his face was left unseen. “Why do you associate with him anyway? What kind of a 'friend' leaves you to rot into a closet over night?”
“A bad one, I suppose,” Antonio chuckled.
“You're gonna get even with him, right” he demanded, growing more cheerful now that there was a foul vendetta he could look forward to.
“I'm not sure if I have any reason to,” Antonio said, voice more quiet now, as if he was holding something back. It only managed to arouse Lovino's suspicions.
“And why's that?”
“Because-” the other began, voice raising an octave, “because he locked me in here with you!” And that was when Lovino felt himself being grabbed from the floor, easily lifted like he weighted nothing at all and repositioned onto Antonio's lap, warm arms circling around him to keep him in place when the shock finally evaporated enough that he realized to squirm and protest.
“W-what the fuck,” he all but screamed, twisting and trashing and blushing and oh God. “Chigii! Let go of me you- you pervert!”
But Antonio didn't let go, just kept his hold and let out a strange 'buhyoo' sound in between the mantra of “Lovi is so cute~”
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