The Night Life (Spamano)

Chapter 8

With a yawn, Toni sat up, have felt better rested than he had in days. He looked around groggily at his surroundings, rubbing his eyes. Has my room always looked like this? He thought, No... wait has it?

After a few minutes of a deep internal debate, he decided that it was indeed not his room, but was utterly confused. Where was he? Why was he here?

Looking down, he noticed a lump in the bed he was sitting on. Curious, he pulled back the sheets to reveal a rather unusually peaceful looking Lovino, curled up on his side, sleeping soundly. Antonio turned bright red, blushing and leaning closer to look at the Italian. He placed a hand on his head, running his fingers through his deep brown hair, as if running his fingers through a cloud. As if in acknowledgement of Toni's hand, Lovino turned over slightly in his sleep, curling towards the warm body.

Antonio blushed harder, trying to resist hugging the smaller man and quickly walked out of the room, confused. He entered the kitchen, starting to pace. "What am I thinking...?" he muttered, walking aimlessly around the kitchen, "Why am I like this? I thought this only happened with chicas...Qué le gusta? No, no puede ser..." He continued muttering in his native language, trying to figure out what exactly he was feeling. Sure he thought the Italian was cute, but did he like him that way?

Toni sighed, resting his elbows on the counter, his head in his hands, utterly lost in his own thoughts. So lost that he didn't notice the shuffling of feet into the room.

"Toni?" Antonio jumped in surprise, fumbling to regain his balance.

"A-ah! Lovi! You're up!" Antonio smiled, trying to shake away his earlier confusion.

Lovino stood in the archway that led into the kitchen, blanket drooping lazily off his shoulder, revealing lightly tan skin. His hair was messy, sticking up in certain places, the one peculiar curl still sticking out where it normally was. He rubbed his eyes, still half asleep, looking up at Antonio.

"I'm hungry bastardo. When's breakfast?" asked Lovino, yawning and looking away.

"Oh, I'll get working on it now Lovi~!" Antonio said, his normal happy demeanor returning.

Lovino made a small noise of approval, shuffling into the living room and plopping down on the couch, attempting to hide his red face. Antonio still hadn't put on a shirt. The Italian was finding his tan skin and defined build rather distracting. He couldn't stop his mind and heart from racing, feeling the odd urge to go back into the kitchen and wrap his arms around the hot body-

"STA 'ZITTO!" Lovino yelled, banging his head on the couch to attempt to shut up his brain, frustrated.

"Lovi? Are you alright?" the Spaniard rushed into the living room at the sound of frustrated Italian yelling, pulling Lovino away from injuring himself further on the couch, falling back. "Lovino what's wrong?"

Blushing brighter red, Lovino scrambled to get away. "I-It's nothing! Let me g-go tomato bastard!" Lovino squirmed, trying to get away from the chiseled chest.

"Aww Lovi~ You look so cute~!" Antonio said, hugging the small Italian closer despite his best efforts to break free.

"Antonio you bastard let me go!"

"Nah I don't feel like it."

"NOW!"

"Not in a million years."

Lovino, slightly shocked and confused by the statement, stopped struggling and looked up at the Spanish man. Antonio looked completely serious, which scared him, but also created this warm, filling feeling in his chest that swelled up and heated up his whole body. He didn't know what it was but it felt... nice.