Having An Interesting Day At Work
WHO: Spain, Romano
WHEN: Monday lunchtime
WHERE: Dos Llamas
WHAT: A Hectic Schedule
( Drama at the Llama )
WHEN: Monday lunchtime
WHERE: Dos Llamas
WHAT: A Hectic Schedule
( Drama at the Llama )
Stepping into the apartment Romano suddenly became very grateful for the room he'd been able to share with his brother, even if it was through under-the-table means. He let out a noticeable sigh of relief upon entry, the evident lack of a roommate meant Antonio had the whole apartment to himself, which meant more room for Romano.
Had the other been so daft as to suggest they *share* a bed, Romano probably would have cursed and left then and there.
Not only that but, the bedroom had a *lock.* Once he managed to block out all external reminders that he was not home, he would be able to sleep comfortably.
Placing a hand on the doorknob he turned to glance back at his friend; he had no idea how long Antonio had been working straight for, but the man must've been a wreck.
Too exhausted to snap or even consider treating him with conscious disdain- for even Romano was able to acknowledge the care and self-sacrifice that went into that evening- he simply dropped his head and sighed.
"...Thanks..."
And before the Spaniard could reply or -godforbid- hug him, Romano had disappeared behind the door.
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Now that Antonio was back at home he had let go of any act of being awake. His eyelids drooped and his wide smile had shifted to a neutral one. Still on the happier side of neutral, but the same nonetheless. When he caught the small thanks from the younger man his toothy smile returned and he felt a wave of happiness rush through him. Thankfully for Romano he had already darted into the room and Antonio didn't have a chance to tackle the younger italian into a bone crushing embrace.
He had heard that word maybe once or twice before in the entire time he had known Romano (at least that he could remember and you would remember something as important as that) and that simple fact made it all the much better.
"Nada por un amigo" Antonio said with a content smile on his face. The spanish man kicked off his shoes and grabbed his phone from the table to check for messages. He quickly set an alarm for five and then set the phone back on the table to curl up on the couch.
He didn't need an alarm, naturally waking up after an hour or two, but sets it just as backup. After all, he has class at six and he would hate to miss it. The tall man moved his arm up beside his head and used it as a makeshift pillow, falling asleep almost instantly.
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The layout was spacious, and the bed large enough for him to sprawl out on. If only the entire room didn't smell sickeningly like Antonio it would have been perfect.
Exhaustion hit him like a truck, and Romano stumbled over to collapse on the bed, removing his shirt in the process. The idea of removing everything in a bed and room that wasn't his own bothered him slightly, opting to at least keep his boxers on. After all it wasn't as hot as it used to get in Italy.
Curled up underneath the blankets he averted his gaze sluggishly towards the door; he hadn't locked it. For someone so influenced by the mafia it was not a habit he was proud of, but at home the front door was always locked and there was often only Feliciano around (when he wasn't working of course) so he had no reason to bother. If the mafia was on your side, there was very little you had to worry about.
Besides, if anyone visited they'd run into Antonio first-no one would bother him.
And with that final thought in mind Romano rolled over and fell asleep.
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Something that he would pay dearly for later.
The Spaniard shifted from the couch, rising to a standing position and rubbing his eye sleepily. He didn't even bother opening his eyes all the way as he zombie walked shuffled into his bedroom, finding the door unlocked as usual and knowing the layout well enough that he wouldn't run into anything. When he caught sight of someone sleeping in his bed he immediately remembered who it was.
Antonio's gaze traveled from the lump on his bed to the couch behind him multiple times as his brain tried to decide just what exactly he should do. His need for a good deep sleep overruled any hesitance however and he shifted into the bedroom, closing the door behind him silently and heading over to the bed and climbing into it. He curled up under the thick comforter with his back to Romano.
As if that was going to help.
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And um...how *clothed* is Antonio? XD]
Romano didn't hear the door open, or feel the bed sink as Antonio slipped in. The blankets were much too warm and the pillow much too soft for his conscious to wake upon such trivial things.
It wasn't until he shifted, rolling over and stretching his arms out in his sleep, that his mind finally registered that something was, well, wrong.
Instead of grasping at air, or a further portion of mattress or blanket, Romano's fingertips found themselves trailing a smooth, warm surface, one his subconscious pigeonholed as a body.
A body that wasn't his own...
Sluggishly Romano pried his eyes open, allowing them to adjust to the evening light as he took in everything around him; the room, the smell, the Spaniard in the bed..
Wait. He jolted, stammering as he scrambled back out of bed. "W-w-what the fuck are you doing!? You god damn creep!"
Without hesitation he found his clothes and his shoes, any and all appreciation for Antonio long gone.
the Italian was thankful that he had chosen to keep his boxers on.
Pulling his shirt and pants back on Romano began to accuse and insult Antonio in a string of fast Italian phrases, somehow managing to throw his arms around in extravagant gestures as he did. Once dressed he reverted back to a language the other would clearly understand.
"Bastard! I can't believe i fell for that bullshit generosity...I feel fucking sick! Ugh..."
And with that the front door slammed shut and he was gone.
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Spain blinked sleepily as he was yelled at, sitting in the bed with his hands on his lap. His brain couldn't focus on what was happening until Romano started to get dressed and then Antonio started to freak out.
"Gah! I'm sorry Romano! I didn't mean too! The couch was too small and I couldn't sleep and I'm sorry!" He rambled completely in spanish, but his pleading fell on deaf ears as the other man slammed the door. He felt a wave of sadness wash over him and he had to bite his lip to fight back the tears. This had to be one of the worst days of his life. And it wasn't even over yet. He flopped back onto the bed, managing to hit his had rather hard on the headboard and feeling a shot of pain run down his neck and spine.
"hijo de puta. I hate my life" Antonio yelped as he clutched the back of his head in pain and clenched his eyes shut tightly. He curled up on the bed in a ball, pulling his knees to his chest.
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