It's about bloody well time

[italian_honour]

WHO: Tomano & Antonion Romano & Antonio
WHEN: Thursday evening..ish?
WHERE: Centralia Apartment, specifically the closet of Antonio's room
WHAT: When you have to lock two people in a confined space for something to happen, you know the relationship is good.
RATING: Probably M15? For now? XD

Comments

[mustlovetomato]

Antonio, being himself, didn't connect the fact that Romano was moving his stuff in with the fact that meant he would be staying for a long time. So, without hesitation he pulled his key out of his pocket and with a couple of deft movements he had the doors open and the key back into his pocket. The spanish man walked past the Italian and pushed the dirty uniforms to one side of the closet into a pile that needed to be washed.

"Do you need hangers?" He asked with a raised eyebrow. Instead of waiting for him to respond, Antonio just pulled off some of his polo shirts and folded them neatly on one of the shelves so that they wouldn't get too bad. His closet was easily big enough for two people and so there was plenty of room for Romano to unpack.

"Oh~" He said suddenly, remembering something. "and Don't close the door. It automatically locks from the outside" he finished, still working on moving his cloths around. So his voice being muffled by the cloths and Romano's lack of attention probably wasn't going to end well. Though of course Antonio didn't realize this.

[italian_honour]

Romano cocked an eyebrow at the pile of dirty clothes, silently questioning why they were there and not in the laundry or something. He wondered if apartments of this quality even had a laundry.

There was no way he was going to manually unpack everything now, he just simply wanted it off the floor and into a more well-hidden corner. Taking out a few of the topmost jackets Romano hung them on the hangers Antonio had made vacant and proceeded to kneel down to lift the entire duffel bag. He was in the middle of dumping it -or trying to dump it, not being as tall as he had hoped- on the topmost shelf when the bag's end nicked the door shut.

"-it automatically locks from the outside"

"...What?" Still almost cradling the bag, Romano glanced back over his shoulder at the door. The door that was now closed. And locked.
"...What!?" The Italian's head snapped around at lightning speed, glaring at his closet-companion in the dim light provided overhead. "Don't tell me we're..." The bag was dropped quite unceremoniously to the ground, followed by an obviously very discontent Italian. "Fucking great."
He sat for a moment, shifted, and got up again. Pacing in the confined space he had Romano glanced around the closet, as if expecting another door to appear- or at least some miraculous way out.

It didn't.
Something did catch his eye however. A strip of red and gold, tucked away in the very corner of the closet, as if almost hiding from any who might stumble and get locked in the closet. Curious, and almost grinning, Romano reached for it.

[mustlovetomato]

Antonio winced at Romano's tone but managed to keep his smile on his face. Even if it wasn't a natural one any more. He continued to shuffle around for a moment before his curiosity got the best of him. It wasn't usually like Romano to fall silent when he was pissed. As he turned around however, his eyebrow's raised up high enough to hit his hair line.
What was he looking at?

When the spanish man caught sight of the red article that Romano was pulling out from its hiding space tucked neatly in a corner, his ears went red.

"P-please don't touch that Lovi" He said, feigning a nonchalant attitude. Half of Antonio knew that Romano wouldn't believe him, that half however was at this point avoiding his attention. The spaniard shifted over to where Romano was standing and put a hand to the outfit, pushing it subtly back into the spot it had previously been in.

[italian_honour]

"The hell is it?" Trying to weasel around Antonio's arm Romano made an attempt to pull the item out again, having understandably a lot more trouble with the larger man leaning over him.
The Spaniard's slightly panicked exclamation only made him more determined to see what it was.

Failing that, Romano went for the alternative route; he began to lean further into the mesh of clothes to inspect it from where it was.
Red..with gold sequins or something..and it wasn't exactly loose either. Oh god.. if Romano hadn't already been convinced that Antonio was gay, he was now. Hell, it looked like something that had come right out of Mardi Gras.

"What the hell is this?!"

[mustlovetomato]

Antonio blushed even further, his whole face going red. He then stepped back and let out a sigh of defeat, offering a small half smile. He reached in over Romano and pulled out the outfit so that the Italian could see it.

"I-Its a matador outfit" He said, holding it beside him and looking away. He stared determinedly at a bit of fuzz on the floor that happened to be darker than the rest of the carpet. The spaniard's free hand clenched at his side and he took a deep breath before continuing his speech.

"I used to be a bull fighter when I was younger. Though...I'm sure it still fits" He said, his voice wavering only very slightly. Leave it to Romano to cause him to be more embarrassed than he had been for a long time.

"Not that I wear it" At least that much was apparent by the state of the outfit. There were gashes from the last time he had worn it and the bulls horns had struck him but there was also a very thin layer of dust. There was even a large tear in the back (one he would hide from Lovi at all costs) that had caused him to quit fighting and left a rather large scar to add to his collection.

[italian_honour]

Romano scoffed in amusement, not only at the outfit itself but at Antonio's embarrassment and the concept as a whole.
"...Bull fighting? Are you serious?" He couldn't imagine his friend bullfighting. Retarded, oddly always happy Antonio did not match life-threatening matador.

But when Romano's eyes drifted from the Spaniard to the outfit itself his smile faltered. It didn't take a genius to understand what the gashes meant, and how much it must have hurt someone who would've still been very young.
Within seconds, the smirk had been replaced with a disapproving scowl, "What kind of parent lets their child do something dangerous like that.."

Well, besides his own of course. In a way, dealing with the mafia was nothing compared to facing a live bull.

[mustlovetomato]

"Yes, it was an...interesting sport to say the least" He laughed lightly, having turned away by the time Romano's face had become more pensive. The spaniard shifted to hang the outfit back on the hook, not realizing that he was in fact giving the Italian the perfect view of the wound that had ended his carrier as a bull fighter. When Romano brought parents into this, he raised his eyebrow and turned back.

"I liked bull fighting! I even did a few professional shows at one point" The spaniard said with a chuckle, his true smile coming back to his face. He took a step back after hooking the outfit up, not remembering to hide the hole in the back, before closing his eyes and holding out an arm.
He hummed a gentle spanish fight song to himself as he moved, his body as nimble and flexable as it once was. Though if he moved a certain way he felt the pull in his side and his back. The two major wounds of his life. However, neither of the wounds brought him shame. He was either doing something he loved or protecting someone he loved.

[italian_honour]

For once Romano didn't scold or yell at Antonio as he paraded back and forth across the limited closet space. The idea of the other man bullfighting, and the gash on the matador outfit had thrown him off-guard to say the least.

This was not the man he knew. The Antonio he knew was blank, daft and openly friendly- not some professional matador or hero. The Italian was quickly reminded of the attack in the restaurant, and another pang of guilt drove straight to his heart. It was amazing how long they had been friends for, without actually knowing anything about each other.
He wondered if Antonio would still house him, if he knew the risks of being involved.

Perched on one of the bottom shelves, Romano raised his head to watch the Spaniard moved, and almost found himself laughing at the other's antics. God he was an idiot.