“I’m back, bastardo,” Lovino announced as he flicked on the light of his dorm room, shivering from the nippy breeze caused by two open windows and walking over to shut them. He had finally arrived home from writing an important paper, and it was very late at night; the cheap digital clock reading twenty minutes past one in the morning. After a quick 360 around the room, he made the assumption that his roommate was out at the moment, most likely either using the bathroom or showering. Lovino was rooming with Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo – both young men were attending the same university – and they had known each other for quite some time beforehand. They had arranged to share a dorm, despite Antonio being two grades higher and three years older than eighteen-year-old-freshman Lovino Vargas (Lovino would beg to differ, however; according to him, the reason for their shared dorm was entirely Antonio’s doing). The irritable Italian sighed before kicking off his shoes, loosening his dark blue tie and flopping down onto his bed. The tiny television in their room that he and Antonio had pooled their money to purchase flickered static. It hardly ever worked, and tonight was no exception.
“Cheap piece of shit...che palle,” Lovino swore, frustration written all over his face. Antonio waltzed into the room a few minutes later, as if on cue, and Lovino only noticed him because he managed to knock a textbook onto the floor the moment he stepped inside. Lovino whipped his head around with a start, followed by a grimace aimed at the curly-haired man sweating in the doorway. Antonio brushed it off quickly and simply grinned back at him, showing off his white teeth, and shut the door behind him as he picked up the book from the floor and set it back onto what little counter space they had in their room.
“Que pasó, Lovi?” Antonio hummed in a sing-songy voice which he always used around Lovino, and only around Lovino, which quickly promped the younger man to turn his attention away from the Spaniard and back to the ineffective television. “Why was he always like this? Did anything ever make this asshole angry?” Lovino wondered briefly, but quickly shoved those thoughts aside as he peeled himself from his bed and once again glared at his roommate.
“Didn’t you hear me the first time, you deaf bastard? That crappy television’s not working again. Fix it, dammit.” The Italian’s hands gestured wildly as he swore, and he finished his rant with the coup de grâce of one final death glare, only for it to be returned by that wide smile he hated so much. Lovino brushed past him almost dejectedly and mumbled, “I’m gonna go shower. Don’t kill yourself while I’m out.”
Antonio grinned adoringly at Lovino as he walked towards the door; the smile quickly transforming into a smirk as the Spaniard suddenly slapped his palm against the back of Lovino’s pants as he passed, with an almost-snarky, “You’re going to need soap and a towel for that, Cariño.” Lovino let out a bit of a squawk as he quickly retreated to the hallway, just outside their door, red in the face from what he hoped was anger. Antonio had always pulled those sorts of moves on Lovino, ever since they started living together, and the younger of the two never quite understood why his face reddened as much as it did, if he disliked the various notions as much as he always proclaimed. He shook off the feeling with a violent jerk of his head, took a breath, quickly retrieved his toiletries from back inside his dorm room, and headed off again (there were shower rooms available for all the students in the basement of each dorm). Lovino never liked bathing along with piles of other men, so he always went after all the other students had already gone home for the night. He had learned to enjoy the feeling of being alone – most of the time, at least – much the opposite of his younger brother, who was still in his last year of high school. Lovino wondered about Feliciano for a split second before walking down the hall towards the elevators.
When Lovino arrived at the showers, he was pleased to notice that no one was using them at this hour. He gave a little smile to the empty locker room before slowly ridding himself of his school uniform, depositing it into a locker, and walking into the humid shower room. His wet footsteps echoed around the white walls as he turned a corner past several long wall-mirrors and approached the many showerheads arranged in the large room. He hung up his towel on a nearby hook and turned one of them on, letting the water run until a frothy steam was pouring out with almost as much intensity as the water itself. Lovino stepped under the stream of the showerhead and let out a sigh of pleasure, closing his eyes and letting the heat relax his tense body. His hair flattened against his face, all except for the stubborn cowlick on the right side of his head; the unruly curl bobbed up and down as water droplets collected and fell from it. His eyes were closed, and the hot water was rolling down the soft angles of his body as he fell into a state of complete tranquility.
Suddenly, Lovino heard the all-too-familiar creaking of the shower room door opening. Someone else was here. Lovino's eyes widened at the relatively loud noise and his head whipped around to face the door, which was now slightly ajar. His face turned from bright red to a sickly pale color once his eyes focused on the entering figure and made out the naked features of none other than his roommate, Antonio. The Italian gasped, looked around frantically, and made a mad dash around the corner of the shower room to skitter out of the Spaniard's sight.
Antonio gazed idly around the seemingly empty shower area, his casual stare looming over the single running shower head. His thoughts rambled from why the shower head was on to whether Lovino was heading home already, then back to the shower head. He eventually walked over to the running water, ignoring the towel hanging near it, and leaned forward into the shower stream, his dark brown curls of hair straightening out under the pressure and a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. A very anxious Italian had his disbelieving stare locked onto him from around the corner.
Lovino silently swore as he peeked around the corner. “Why is he here!? Why did the ONE PERSON I wanted to see the LEAST have to show up HERE, of all places!? And why NOW!?” he internally screamed; these questions bouncing crazily around his mind before he slowly turned his attention back towards the Spaniard. Antonio was rinsing soapy foam from his short hair; his arms were up, exposing his upper chest and abdomen to the already-flustered Italian. Lovino swallowed dryly through the humidity. He had always secretly hoped to see someone else in the showers at this hour –perhaps Feliciano’s boyfriend or Gilbert, their bodies were impressive even with clothing covering them, though he’d NEVER admit that out loud – but he had completely removed Antonio from that list after living with him for nearly a year already. He just didn't realize just how attractive Antonio really was. Or, perhaps, it was just due to the fact that he was naked in the shower at this moment in time that he was this stunning. Lovino's face became cherry-red up to his ears as he watched the Spanish nation slick his wet hair back with his fingers and exhale with a soft moan. He never noticed how perfectly tanned the Spaniard's skin was. Antonio normally always wore long-sleeved shirts and long pants, so Lovino hadn’t seen this rather appealing trait of his.
Lovino mentally punched himself when he found himself enjoying the view. But he continued watching Antonio shower, nonetheless. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, the Italian concluded.
Eventually, Lovino gave up what little self-dignity he had left and surrendered to letting his eyes trail further down Antonio's naked body. Smooth, moist skin was steaming in the heat of the shower, the water vapor beading into droplets on his toned stomach; emerald green eyes shone through the milky opaqueness of the steam. Lovino's blush deepened as he studied Antonio's every arch, every muscle, every dip and every move. He felt himself becoming absorbed and hopelessly lost in Antonio’s body, overcome by sudden and intense waves of desire. However, his senses came crashing back to him a little before he'd like them to; including a new twinge of stiffness concentrated on a single area on Lovino's lower body.
The Italian's brown eyes shot open with an uncomfortable twitch as they slowly trailed down to his own vital regions, which were pulsating with desire and standing perfectly erect. He felt his cheeks burn up in disbelief as he hit the palm of his hand against his forehead. He grumbled an audible slur of swearwords out of embarrassment, but then, after realizing that he may have given himself away, quickly shut his mouth and attempted to hide back around the corner again. He silently thanked the lord that the mirrors in the corner of the bathroom had become too foggy to reflect accurately, and he hid there, holding his breath.
Antonio turned towards Lovino's hiding place with a small cock of his head, and, after deciding it was nothing, returned to his shower. He had begun to hum in a deep voice and started washing his body with a soap that smelled like the ocean. He was completely oblivious to the very interested Italian hiding just around the corner.
Lovino turned back around to face Antonio once more, sighing quietly in relief before leaning against the wall and holding onto the attached metal railing with one hand. His other hand also reached for the railing, but froze halfway; it soon wavered down a bit and brushed against the inside of the Italian's slender thigh. He shuddered at his own touch; his gaze focused on Antonio, and he hesitantly moved his hand over the sensitive skin between his thighs, fingering the erected area with a trembling touch. He was surprised by how wonderful this felt - he had done this a few times before, but nothing Lovino had done had ever felt this amazing. This was passion and lust at its finest, he decided, and his cheeks were dusted pink with the intensity of these new sensations. His shaky hand moved slowly at first, Lovino's chocolate eyes locked onto the clueless Spaniard, and he gradually sped up his motions and experimented around with himself, touching and exploring and watching. The Italian leaned forward, supporting most of his weight with the hand that was gripping the metal bar, and his eyes fluttered shut with what he hoped was a quiet moan and gasp of pleasure. He was losing the feeling of his body in numbness; the only place that could receive pleasure was...the only place he could feel was...the most wonderful sensation in the entire universe was...
Lovino's body jerked backwards after his outburst and his eyes immediately shot open, only to see the Spaniard standing directly in front of him, his green eyes lingering down at Lovino's lower body in mild curiosity. Was Lovino touching himself...? Better yet, was Lovino doing so...while watching him shower? This was getting weirder by the second. The Spaniard's cheeks flushed pink as he continued to gaze down at Lovino's completely exposed body, which he had never actually seen in its entirety before. Lovino attempted to skitter away from his obviously-interested roommate but ended up slipping on the slick tile floor and falling backwards with a loud string of Italian curses. He landed with a wet thump; ending up unharmed in the process, and then just lied there on the light blue tile, in a state of mental and physical shock.
Lovino wished more than anything that he could disappear at this moment in time. He wished that he could have suffered a concussion from that fall, he wished he could have cracked his head open on the tile, staining it red, and died right there. He wished he could be crushed by a meteorite, struck by sporadic indoor lightning, murdered by some psychotic early-morning shower room passerby. Anything, anything, anything to escape this situation right now. His brown eyes flickered around the room quickly before he stared up at Antonio in what he hoped was a glare; he bit his lip and hoped to somehow have this encounter deleted from both their memories forever. He slowly propped himself up into a sitting position, averting his face from the Spaniard, who had knelt down and was extending his right hand down towards Lovino in an attempt to help him up. The now-upset Italian harshly slapped it away with another shaky stream of swearwords and stood up, his knees wobbly as he steadied himself. He tried to think of anything, anything at all, to avoid this horrible feeling of impending doom in the pit of his stomach and the tightness in his throat. Vines after vines of fresh tomatoes, steaming pizza and pasta, the best wine in the universe – and damn it all, he was tearing up. His watery eyes widened as he moved one hand over his mouth and turned his entire upper body away from Antonio, whose expression was becoming more and more concerned. Antonio had put one hand on Lovino’s shoulder.
"Mi cariño, are you alright?"
"D-Don't touch me!!"
Lovino took off past Antonio and towards the showers, swiped his white towel from the hook next to the still-running shower head, and then shoved past Antonio once again to escape this room completely. Antonio stumbled both times the Italian dashed by, but Lovino didn’t look back as he tore past the concerned older man. He ran as fast as he could (without slipping again) to his locker, took a shaky breath, and sat on the cold plastic bench between the rows of lockers. He buried his face deep into his towel, cursing at himself for being so weak and so emotional and so fragile at the worst of times, which only succeeded in further upsetting the already-frazzled brunette. He leaned forward so that his bright red face and the front of his shivering body were both covered by the thick towel. He choked out a few muffled sentences, just enough to rile himself up to the point of screaming into the towel before resorting to little high-pitched hiccups. He hated being like this, being this unstable, and he hated being like this around other people even more. He knew that Antonio would eventually follow him here and Lovino would be forced to expose his weakness to the stupid Spaniard.
The stupid Spaniard who Lovino just KNEW was standing right in the entryway.
Antonio had been following him, no surprises here, but he had paused in the doorway of the locker room after hearing Lovino croak out swear words as if he were hitting puberty all over again. Antonio knew that Lovino was emotional, but he never paid much attention to it in the past because Lovino would always turn right around and be back to his angry, irritable self within a minute. The young Italian man had worked hard to never let himself cry in front of Antonio, but this day, this moment, was the one and only exception, both Lovino and Antonio discovered.
Antonio eventually stepped forward towards the dejected and embarrassed Italian, wearing his towel around his waist, and sat down next to him. Lovino pretended not to notice.
"Mi cariño, no derrames lágrimas. Estoy aquí para ti, Lovi." Antonio's smooth voice transitioned into Spanish in an attempt to be comforting; he preferred to use his native tongue when he was being supportive of those he cared about. But Lovino was not amused, nor reassured in the least. He didn't look up from his towel when he answered; every other word or so interrupted with a sharp breath.
"You-You know I don't speak Spa-Spanish, bastardo..."
Antonio let out a sigh at Lovino's sharp Italian tongue, and then proceeded to reach over and tug the towel down; off his face. Lovino flinched, blinking away a few tears and swiping at his eyes with his right hand. He really was a mess, and Antonio couldn't help but let a huge adoring grin spread across his face. He leaned over and kissed Lovino's forehead tenderly. Lovino sniffed loudly a few times then pursed his lips together into a childish pout, crossing his arms and turning his head away from the smiling man next to him.
"Come on, let's wash you up. Ya no llores mas, Lovi."
Lovino was taken off guard as he was dragged back over to the still-running shower head and promptly held by his shoulders under the hot water. His damp hair became soaked once more, as did Antonio's. They were facing each other, studying each other’s features. Lovino noticed that the Spaniard was the tiniest bit shorter than he was. He found that odd; he had always pictured Antonio being taller than him.
"What do you want?"
"Can I wash your hair?"
"Wh-Why would you want to do that!? I'm not a kid!!"
"Porque tu pelo es muy bonito! Can I wash it?"
"Ugh, stop speaking Spanish, goddammit!! ...F-Fine. Go ahead."
Lovino was pleasantly surprised at how good it felt to have someone else wash his hair. Antonio's soapy fingers massaged Lovino's scalp just hard enough to feel magnificent without inflicting any pain. Lovino sighed and closed his eyes, letting a little smile grace its way across his face, something he rarely did in Antonio's presence. The Spaniard smiled endearingly and rinsed Lovino's hair, reaching for the soap again.
"Let me wash the rest of you too."
Lovino was too relaxed and too deep in thought to even hear Antonio's request, and he didn't notice when Antonio started soaping up his shoulders and chest. It wasn't until the Spaniard's firm hands reached his stomach that Lovino noticed what Antonio was doing.
"H--Hey!!" Lovino blushed furiously at Antonio's touch. The strong Spaniard continued washing the Italian's olive stomach with little figure-eight motions of his fingers and thumbs, regardless. Lovino moaned with his mouth closed while those hands ran over his abdomen and lower stomach, and eventually his hips and outer thighs as well. Antonio smirked as he continued to explore Lovino's slender framework. Lovino's eyes snapped open and he glared embarrassedly at Antonio and jabbed a finger into his chest.
"Wha-What the fuck are you doing!?"
"Am I hurting you?"
"N-No...Oy! Answer my goddamn question first!!"
Antonio laughed a little bit and wrapped his arms around Lovino's wet shoulders and pulled him closer so that their chests were flat against one another’s. Lovino seemed to be taken off guard and just stood there, staring wide-eyed at the wall across from the two of them. True, Lovino had always had his little daydreams and fantasies about things like this happening, but he never expected Antonio to be the one to hold him in the shower and expose his whole self, inside and out. Lovino's mind wandered off to its happy place again as Antonio held him close.
Lovino suddenly noticed that he could feel Antonio's entire body pressing against his; and he also just now realized that the two of them were still, in fact, completely naked. This, again, was something Lovino hadn't ever thought would happen, not in his wildest dreams or most intense fantasies. He had started shaking. Lovino hesitated for a second before wrapping his arms around Antonio's waist. He shuddered as Antonio's foggy breath brushed against his ear.
"Te amo, Lovino. I think you can figure that one out...in Italian and Spanish, there’s only a one letter difference."
Lovino couldn’t breathe.
Did Antonio actually say that!? He couldn't POSSIBLY mean that!! They had hardly seen each other this year, with them being two school years apart, and they only shared a dorm! There was no relationship between them, there were no sparks! Nothing!
But, then why did Lovino react the way he did after seeing the Spaniard showering? Why did he trust Antonio to see him at his weakest? Why did Lovino's heart skip a beat after he heard Antonio...confess just now?
Lovino didn't admit anything; he wouldn’t, he couldn’t. Not now. He refused to. He shook his head quickly and found himself short of breath. His face felt hot.
Antonio smiled and shifted his body up a bit, Lovino swallowing hard as he did so, and placed one hand on the back of Lovino's head, weaving his fingers through the wet auburn hair. Antonio’s other hand was slowly trailing down Lovino's side. Their eyes met for a split second before Lovino aimed his gaze off to the side once again.
"You don't have to answer, mi cariño. After all, no is not an answer. I know you love me too, even if you don't say it,” he paused for a second before continuing, in fluid Spanish, “Mi corazón es tu corazón, Lovino."
Antonio gently touched his forehead to his partner’s. He was smiling, those green eyes staring straight up into the Italian’s hazel ones. Lovino was blushing, his eyes remaining averted. The flustered Italian opened his mouth to give a sharp retort, but no voice came to him. He just sighed, lowering his gaze, and unfurrowed his brow after hearing the Spaniard's comforting voice. They were so close. Lovino could feel the thin line between his personal fantasies and reality blurring.
There was no stopping now. No holding back. It was now or never.
And if Lovino was going to follow through with this, there was NO WAY he was going to be submissive. At least, he kept telling himself this as he psyched himself up to make the first move.
Lovino finally took the opportunity to raise his hands, place them both on Antonio's cheeks, lean down ever so slightly, and press his lips to the surprised Spaniard’s. Antonio's emerald eyes blinked rapidly several times before he slowly draped his arms around Lovino. The warm, calloused hands found their way around the Italian's body, skin gliding smoothly over skin, tongues battling for dominance, nothing between the two college boys but lust and desire and steam. Antonio separated from the kiss after almost three minutes and slipped around Lovino, readjusting himself against the soft arches of the Italian’s back and draping his arms around the pale neck in front of him. The Spaniard sighed in pleasure and closed his eyes as he leaned his chin on Lovino’s shoulder.
Lovino blushed at the feeling of Antonio’s breath against his neck and he soon felt the familiar twinges of pleasure shooting towards his lower body once again. The somewhat flustered Italian could feel Antonio pressing against his back; he could feel every movement, every twitch and shift of the toned man’s skin. Lovino swallowed hard and his blush deepened. He could feel himself stiffening...this was not good, he thought. He wasn't supposed to be the first one to be turned on, that was the Spanish bastard's role! Lovino couldn't move with Antonio right behind him, though, so he just stood there, feeling awkward and hoping Antonio wouldn't notice anything. His prayers were left unanswered as Antonio adjusted his chin into the dip between Lovino’s neck and the bones in his shoulder.
"Somebody is excited," Antonio whispered a breathy laugh into Lovino’s neck.
"Sh-Shut up. That wasn't supposed to happe—" Antonio's index finger traced over Lovino's stomach and chest in those same small circular motions as earlier, effectively silencing the younger man in front of him.
"Do you want me to make it feel even better?"
Lovino twitched at those words. He almost choked on his breath as he attempted to turn around, but found that he couldn't, thanks to the all-too-happy Spanish man embracing him from behind. Lovino could have sworn he felt a new pressure pushing somewhere against his lower back. His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates at this realization, and his face turned as red as the tomatoes he and Antonio used to grow together in the summer growing up. Lovino grew rigid and straightened up, his hands flat against his sides in utter shock. Was that Antonio's...?
Antonio noticed Lovino’s change in posture, and blinked in confusion. He eventually looked down very nonchalantly for a second before smiling cheerily back at Lovino again, the Spaniard’s head resting in the space between his partner’s neck and shoulder.
"Now look what you did, Lovi,” Antonio laughed, “We match."
Lovino was embarrassed. He moved his hands down to cover his lower body from view, then tilted his head and glared over at Antonio, his voice pouty and irritated.
"You're freakin' boning my back, you asshole."
"Would you rather I try a different place?" Lovino could have sworn he saw a smirk grace itself across Antonio’s lips out of the corner of his eye.
Lovino whipped his head back around, sweating bullets and hiding both his face and his lower body at this point. The Spaniard laughed again before continuing.
"Stay still for a little, mi cariño. Let me try something."
"Wh-What!? No wa – aaaaaaaayyyyohmiodio..."
Lovino's head tilted back onto Antonio's shoulder as the tanned hands reached around Lovino's slender body and found their way to his now-prominent erection. The large hands were being unexpectedly gentle with him: one was caressing one side of his chest, fondling the little pink bump there that was hard with pleasure, while the other was gently stroking back and forth over the length with incredible precision, leaving the Italian in a state of pre-orgasmic shock. Every touch was incredible; every movement was magnified, every twinge of pleasure was now a tidal wave of unbelievable ecstasy. Lovino’s vision blurred over and he found himself breathing much faster now, choking on the steam every now and again in his fruitless efforts to catch his breath. He didn’t just want this, he needed this. It was necessary for this touching and caressing and stroking to continue; Lovino felt like he would crumble to the tile floor in a broken heap if Antonio wasn’t right behind him, holding him close.
“Ca-Caspita…” was all that Lovino could choke out. His brown eyes rolled back and fluttered shut, and his knees were starting to buckle. He could feel heat pooling in his groin, and liquid that he knew wasn’t water start to drip down his inner thigh. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stand if this continued for much longer. He leaned heavily backwards against Antonio and took in a sharp breath through his teeth. “I—I c-c-can’t…”
Antonio nodded in acknowledgement and, with surprisingly little effort, lifted up Lovino bridal-style into his arms. The Italian man wriggled around a bit in protest, aggravated that the wonderful sensation between his legs had been postponed, but soon was set down on a plastic bench near the showerhead they were previously under. Antonio promptly dropped down onto one knee and positioned his head as close to Lovino’s trembling thighs as he could, his lips just brushing against the sensitive and tender skin. Lovino sucked in a hissing breath through his teeth and tilted his head back ever-so-slightly at the touch, spreading his legs just a bit more and granting the Spaniard entry. Antonio’s lips graced the inside of the thighs presented to him before his fingers traced over Lovino’s erection with careful precision once more. He smirked.
“¿Es bueno, Lovi?”
Antonio laughed. “Are you sure about that?”
Lovino moaned quietly at his touch, and mumbled something along the lines of, “And by you, I meant me,” and looked angrily off to the side. His glare became more of a flustered pout and his mind screamed don’t talk, just continue, and faster. Antonio immediately caught onto the vibe (for once!) and wasted no time in running his tongue down the length of Lovino’s vitals, from the base to the tip, causing the younger nation’s breath to hitch. His soft lips touched the tip once, twice, before he spread Lovino’s thighs a bit wider and took the head into his mouth, caressing it with the very tip of his tongue. His green eyes shut about halfway as his head started to bob up and down between Lovino’s slender legs, one hand following slightly behind his mouth with a quick pumping motion, and his teeth barely grazing over the skin every now and again.
Lovino lurched forward with sharp exhale and dug his fingers into the Spaniard’s hair. His mouth hung open, and he couldn’t quite catch his breath, no matter how much he moaned and gasped and panted. His eyes were barely open at all and his brow was furrowed in pleasure, sweat beading up on his forehead and between his legs. He felt hot – his face was hot, his stomach was hot, his legs were hot, his chest was hot, and between them was burning in the best way imaginable. He moaned Antonio’s name, dragging out the “o” at the end, his voice wavering from the intense pleasure of the Spaniard’s mouth and tongue and fingers.
Antonio stopped only once, to slick his index finger with saliva and trail it over the little entrance in Lovino’s bottom that he had just now managed to make accessible by helping Lovino lean back against the wall instead of sitting down. Lovino’s breath hitched again. His brain hadn’t gotten that far; he didn’t realize that they physically could not have “traditional sex,” since they were both male, and he was surprised by how something as lewd as his anus being touched could feel so amazing when it was done by the right person at the right time. He held his breath as Antonio prodded at the spot for a few seconds, eventually pushing the finger as far in as it would go. Lovino let out a prolonged squeak as his toes curled and his back arched at this new sensation. Antonio smiled, but did not meet Lovino’s eyes, and soon pushed in another finger, scissoring and stretching at the entrance, seeming to neglect the erection sticking right into his face for the moment. Lovino’s breaths were no longer breaths, but a steady stream of moans, the pitch changing with every one of the Spaniard’s movements. Lovino shook his head quickly as Antonio sped up the movement of his fingers, shaking tiny droplets of water and sweat off his bright red face.
“A-Antonio, god dammit, hurry u-up!! F-Fuck, I’m going to—!”
At this outburst, Antonio took the erection into his mouth once again, and pushed yet another finger into the tight entrance, which was just enough to push Lovino over the edge. Lovino let out a rough gasp followed by a shaky hum as his body spasmed from his legs to his stomach to his shoulders, releasing into Antonio’s mouth with a final buck of his hips, prompting a small moan from Antonio in return. The Italian’s body filled to the brim with ecstasy, as every muscle contracted and relaxed, and left the frame of his body in what he could only describe as ‘melting.’ Antonio released his mouth from the Italian man’s vitals and swallowed, several thin strings of milky-white fluid lingering around his mouth and dripping from his chin. He smiled up at Lovino, who could only look back with an expression that screamed, “You have no idea how fucking amazing that was.” Antonio swiped a hand across his mouth and looked back up at Lovino again, the grin never leaving his face.
“My turn now, Lovino, sí?” the Spaniard cocked an eyebrow up at Lovino as he spoke, “Switch me places, por favor?”
Lovino took a few breaths before getting up off the bench, feeling sticky and sweaty as he stood there, wobbly on his feet. He looked back at Antonio, who seemed to remember something, and quickly got up. Lovino looked confusedly at him, but was shushed and told to wait a few minutes until he got back. Lovino nodded, and waited.
About five minutes later, the Spaniard came running back, holding something small in one hand, panting out apologies. Upon closer inspection, the item was a condom. Lovino looked confused at first, but then decided not to question it. Antonio quickly prepared himself, then sat back on the bench, and opened his arms with a cheery smile and a lovey-dovey chant of “Come to boss, Lovi!” Lovino was not amused. Or rather, he told himself he wasn’t amused, but his facial expression said completely otherwise. He attempted not to laugh as he wrapped his arms around the adoring Spaniard’s neck, sitting with one knee on either side of the older man.
Lovino could feel Antonio’s quickly-stiffening erection brushing against his inner thigh, which prompted a sharp gasp through his nose and a quiet hum from Antonio. The shaky Italian could feel himself being turned on again, already. He blushed.
“...I’ve never done this, Toni,” Lovino admitted, looking down at his partner’s bright eyes, placing a hand on his cheek and caressing the sun-kissed skin there with his thumb, wiping away small beads of sweat. Antonio’s smile became less sensual and more loving as Lovino spoke, and he reached up and returned Lovino’s gesture.
“Neither have I, Cariño,” Antonio looked up adoringly and finally met Lovino’s shining hazel eyes once more, “But there’s a first time for everything, sí?”
Lovino did not answer. He could only look into Antonio’s eyes, with a longing and a need for something; Antonio could not tell whether it was lust or comfort the younger man sitting on his lap desired. So Antonio wrapped his arms around the slender figure in front of him, and pulled him as close as he would go, both their erections brushing against each other with every breath they took.
“Are you scared, Lovino?”
“Are you ready?”
Lovino’s face quickly turned bright red at even the thought of what he was about to do. He was giving everything he could possibly give to Antonio, and frankly, he did not mind it in the slightest. Yes, he was nervous, and yes, he was a little bit confused and unsure, but he basically knew what was going to happen, and that he was going to surrender his virginity to the goofy twenty-one-year-old Spaniard who knew when to be serious in just the right moments and who he had grown up with and who he never thought would be the one who he developed feelings for. Lovino straightened up a little bit before mumbling a quiet response.
“Will this hurt?”
“Just for a few seconds, Lovi. If it hurts longer than that, we’ll stop, alright?”
Lovino nodded as he stood on his knees, looking down at Antonio’s shining green eyes and his black ringlets of hair and his little smile that he doubted would ever leave his face. And, for the moment, Lovino returned that smile. He shifted a little bit, positioning himself above the Spaniard, feeling that familiar pressure against his bottom as he shut his eyes in both embarrassment and in pleasure at the touch. He soon opened them, only to reach around behind him and position Antonio gently against his entrance before looking forward once again. He took a deep breath, exhaled, and then took another breath and held it before pushing down onto Antonio’s torso. After only a few seconds, Lovino could feel himself sink down all the way onto his partner’s torso, and could feel Antonio inside of him.
It felt incredible.
Lovino lurched forward and promptly threw his arms around the Spaniard’s neck, once he realized that it did hurt a bit, and buried his face into Antonio’s shoulder to muffle a few throaty moans that escaped. Lovino could hardly breathe; he felt weightless and his body rushed with a sudden energy that bewildered his senses that caused his teeth to clench and a pulse to be felt through his groin. Antonio had leant his head back against the wall after Lovino had lowered himself. His breaths were drawn out and audible and his emerald eyes were shut tightly in the most intense pleasure he had ever known. He bit down on his lower lip as Lovino shuddered into his shoulder, both of them hoping the other would make the next move.
Lovino heard Antonio moan his name, and felt his hips moving a little bit from under him. Lovino braced himself for a few seconds, then lifted back up, and pushed back down again, repeating this process, moaning and gasping and panting into Antonio’s shoulder. The Spaniard leaned forward slightly, just enough so that, with each upwards jerk of the Italian’s body, his erection would be able to have at least some sort of friction against Antonio’s stomach. His hands wound up snaking their way around Lovino’s body and grabbed ahold of his bottom; Lovino, for once, didn’t mind this as he continued, Antonio helping assist Lovino in his effort to find a fluid rhythm through all of this. It wasn’t long before their combined moans became louder and more prominent and the pace picked up significantly.
Both their names were moaned over and over again in the steamy and deserted shower room; the sound echoing off the walls and reverberating into something like a melody and a harmony of perverse nature coming together and fusing into a song-like stream of Italian swearwords and Spanish slurs as the two continued, up and down, up and down, jerking motions becoming faster paced and more intense as sweat beaded up upon both their bodies, mingling with the humidity moistening their skin and dangling from their hair as they both reached their point of no return.
Lovino was first, again.
“An—tonio...!!” Lovino gasped as he pushed down a final time, his back arching and his body tightening as he came for the second time that night, splattering against Antonio’s chest. His mouth was wide open and his eyes were shut and the world was spinning and he was floating and he felt numb.
He wasn’t first by much.
Antonio didn’t have any time to shout out the name of the man straddling him; he could hardly get out one syllable before he, too, hit his climax. He groaned deeply and throatily, his voice taken over by lust and pleasure and sexual enthrallment, a different voice than the cheerful one Lovino recognized. They both leaned against each other after the numbness had subsided and the weightlessness had spread, both propping themselves up on each other’s bodies as Antonio barely managed to pull out from Lovino. They stayed there for more than a few minutes, overcome by every feeling, every move, every emotion, and every beat of each other’s hearts. Lovino’s ear was against Antonio’s chest, and Antonio’s head was buried in Lovino’s damp hair.
And the both of them could feel their smiles, even though their eyes never met during those few minutes.
Later that night – or rather, earlier that morning – they returned to their dorm room, hand-in-hand. They managed to share a bed, Antonio’s bed, and they opened the window and curled up under both their blankets until they were both asleep. Their fingers never unlaced, the entire night, and not one time were either of them cold during the harsh winter night. They didn’t set the alarm the night before, and they slept until noon that day, wasting away their Saturday without a care in the world, listening to the wind outside and snuggling closer to each other, not wanting to leave the embrace. It was too cold to go outside anyway, they both concluded, as their sleep-dusted eyes met and their lips gently touched.