Lovino sighed as he approached Antonio's house, wondering what the hell the idiot could have so urgently wanted to show him this time. He found out soon enough, however, as he was greeted by an enthusiastic Spaniard sporting a completely ridiculous outfit at the door.
"¿Te gusta, Lovi?" He asked, smiling broadly, pulling Lovino into the warm, familiar house. "This is a flamenco dress! A very important tradition of the people in my country!" The idiot was practically bouncing with enthusiasm, the huge ruffles at the bottom of his dress bouncing with him. "I wanted to show you the one I just got!"
It was rather nice, Lovino had to admit. It had obviously been modified to fit a man, and the flaming crimson fabric drew the eye to the lines of Antonio's body. Huge ruffles at the shoulders and very bottom of the dress only added to the exotic appearance.
Before he knew it, Antonio had pushed him into a chair and turned on some music, exclaiming, "Here, watch el baile!"
He began to move with the music, stepping carefully, moving his body from side to side with a swoosh of his skirts, arms moving tantalizingly above him as he lost himself in the dance. Every so often he would grasp his fiery skirts and pull them up, just a little, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of the skin beneath. Even his shoes matched, bright red heels pounding against the hardwood floor with every step.
Lovino felt his face grow hot, and his entire body followed. What the hell? There was no way Antonio looked good, let alone sexy in that ridiculous outfit... But he couldn't lie to his body, and to his mortification, soon enough he was fully aroused. Every so often, Antonio would glance his way, looking Lovino right in the eye and shaking his hips some more. The looks sent shivers down Lovino's spine, and he began to find it difficult to meet Antonio's glances.
... Alright, he could maybe admit to himself that maybe the bastard looked good. The way his hands moved and the snaking, sinuous line of Antonio's well-formed body as he moved weren't helping...!
...And the music, the music maybe reminded him of growing up here in Spain, adding to his warmth, and the steady beat echoed the pounding of blood in his ears, and he was entranced, and couldn't look away from the stupid, sexy Spaniard, and surely this feeling would never end... and all of a sudden, the music stopped. Antonio ended the dance with a whirl and a flourish of his skirts, turning to look at Lovino.
Lovino remained seated, crossing his legs uncomfortably. "Well? Did you like it, Lovi?" Antonio asked, face flushed and panting slightly from the exertion.
He walked up to Lovino, comfortably resting his hands on the wall on either side of Lovino's head. Lovino, his face burning at the proximity of the all-too-close Spaniard, frowned as he responded, grudgingly, "...Of course I liked it." Refusing to comment further, he turned his face stubbornly away from Antonio's.
Lovino sighed as he approached Antonio's house, wondering what the hell the idiot could have so urgently wanted to show him this time. He found out soon enough, however, as he was greeted by an enthusiastic Spaniard sporting a completely ridiculous outfit at the door.
"¿Te gusta, Lovi?" He asked, smiling broadly, pulling Lovino into the warm, familiar house. "This is a flamenco dress! A very important tradition of the people in my country!" The idiot was practically bouncing with enthusiasm, the huge ruffles at the bottom of his dress bouncing with him. "I wanted to show you the one I just got!"
It was rather nice, Lovino had to admit. It had obviously been modified to fit a man, and the flaming crimson fabric drew the eye to the lines of Antonio's body. Huge ruffles at the shoulders and very bottom of the dress only added to the exotic appearance.
Before he knew it, Antonio had pushed him into a chair and turned on some music, exclaiming, "Here, watch el baile!"
He began to move with the music, stepping carefully, moving his body from side to side with a swoosh of his skirts, arms moving tantalizingly above him as he lost himself in the dance. Every so often he would grasp his fiery skirts and pull them up, just a little, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of the skin beneath. Even his shoes matched, bright red heels pounding against the hardwood floor with every step.
Lovino felt his face grow hot, and his entire body followed. What the hell? There was no way Antonio looked good, let alone sexy in that ridiculous outfit... But he couldn't lie to his body, and to his mortification, soon enough he was fully aroused. Every so often, Antonio would glance his way, looking Lovino right in the eye and shaking his hips some more. The looks sent shivers down Lovino's spine, and he began to find it difficult to meet Antonio's glances.
... Alright, he could maybe admit to himself that maybe the bastard looked good. The way his hands moved and the snaking, sinuous line of Antonio's well-formed body as he moved weren't helping...!
...And the music, the music maybe reminded him of growing up here in Spain, adding to his warmth, and the steady beat echoed the pounding of blood in his ears, and he was entranced, and couldn't look away from the stupid, sexy Spaniard, and surely this feeling would never end... and all of a sudden, the music stopped. Antonio ended the dance with a whirl and a flourish of his skirts, turning to look at Lovino.
Lovino remained seated, crossing his legs uncomfortably. "Well? Did you like it, Lovi?" Antonio asked, face flushed and panting slightly from the exertion.
He walked up to Lovino, comfortably resting his hands on the wall on either side of Lovino's head. Lovino, his face burning at the proximity of the all-too-close Spaniard, frowned as he responded, grudgingly, "...Of course I liked it." Refusing to comment further, he turned his face stubbornly away from Antonio's.
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