Warning: Even though, under my friend's request, I took out a lot of the swearing, there's still a lot of swearing. Oh Lovi~ You and your mouth~
AN Because who really cares if you pay attention in math class (Except of course, my math teacher... Good times~), and plane rides are practically made for writing Spamano (Just so long as my parents don't read over my shoulder…).
If anyone asked why Lovino had first become involved in the gang, the answer was simple: he joined because there was no other option. His father had been had been in the gang and his father before him and his grandfather before that. Years ago his great-grandfather had made a deal with the head of the gang and ever since it had been mandatory for a Vargas male of every generation to join. Lovino had to step up and fill the quota. Because it was either him or his brother and Feliciano wouldn't have lasted a week. No. Feliciano wouldn't have lasted an hour.
His brother was an idiot and he'd be damned if his own cowardice was the reason his brother's obliviousness was taken away from him. But it wasn't 'cause he cared or anything! He just… hated doing chores is all. Ya! His damn brother could sit at home and do the housework, while he, the real man, did the real work. Ya… That was it.
Because Lovino did not feel that it was his duty to protect his (totally younger, by the way!) twin and he most certainly did not love him. Not at all.
It had been six years since his initiation. He'd seen more blood than he'd ever intended and discovered that he looked like shit in black and blue, but he'd managed to block out the initial beating. Or at least… most of it. He sighed. Some things you just can't forget.
Blood in, blood out. He was still shuddering at seventeen and he doubted he'd ever stop. That shit is traumatising.
Getting into the gang had been hard, but getting out would be so much worse… but he'd try hard as fuck to do it anyways.
Lovino had risen the ranks through blood sweat and tears, by his thumb and trigger alone. He'd always been a good shot, but now he could've been a sniper. Never once had he missed and for each shot he took, another life was extinguished and another haunting nightmare emerged, eager to darken his dreams and destroy his mind from the inside, slowly rotting places he'd tried to keep pure and innocent; the places he wanted to hold close and shelter from the life that was forced upon him; the places he treasured and the moments he held sacred.
He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't stand the grief or the regret; to think of all the lives he'd destroyed; the families he'd devastated; the potential he'd shattered; the individuals he'd tainted; the children who'd seen too much.
He took a deep breath. He was thinking too hard again.
His father had skipped out when he and Feli were in elementary school (the bastard), but his grandfather had always been there to remind him of his duty to the family; to the gang. Last week, however, after messing with some shady motherfucker in a gang in the next town over, his grandfather had been killed and suddenly it was only his own fear and weakness tying him to the gang.
If there was no one to say a Vargas had to be in the gang, then who was to say he had to stay. Lovino scoffed. The gang, that's who. Fucking gang…
But who gave a shit about them! Those bastards had been using him as a hit man for too long! He was Lovino fucking Vargas and he wasn't bound to anyone (except maybe Feliciano, but there was no way in hell he was telling him that). A voice in his head whispered another name, but he quickly told it to shut the fuck up because he could care less.
And damn the gang!
"Are you sure you don't want the awesome me to drive you home?" His friend Gilbert asked as he got into his car.
Antonio grinned from ear to ear. "Yep! I'm sure! I don't live to far anyways."
The sound of a deadbolt locking into place startled him. He turned to face it, but then laughed at his jumpiness. It was only Francis closing up his café. "Mon ami, I have room dans mon automobile aussi. Tu ne dois pas promenader."
"Amigos, I only live a few blocks over." He let out a sort of giggly chuckle. "You guys are going to make me get fat. I need the exercise." And with that, Antonio turned and began walking away, still laughing and waving wildly behind him to his friends. He had to leave before they convinced him into taking the ride.
He never could deny them anything and they never gave up. His friends were great! They always tried to drive him home even though they lived in the opposite direction and even if they couldn't really afford to waste gas.
"Au revoir, mon ami!"
The other reason that Antonio didn't want a drive home was that he needed time to think (He could practically hear Gilbert laughing at him for actually thinking. Actually he could hear Francis too. And Lovino. And Bella. Lots of people. The Spaniard laughed at himself.)You see, one of his bestest friends, Lovi, had been acting really funny since his abuelo's funeral. Usually his little Lovi blushed and overreacted to all the smallest things, but over the last couple days he'd barely even yelled at him for being an 'idiota'. The easily embarrassed Italian hadn't been blushing as much either and one time at lunch, Antonio had tomatoes and not once did Lovi take some. He didn't steal Antonio's tomatoes! He always did that! Antonio sniffled at all the tomatoes he'd never gotten to eat.
For some reason Antonio could never figure out, people always thought he was stupid. Okay, so maybe he wasn't the best with words, or numbers, or equations, or facts, or… school stuff, but he had always been observant (despite the fact that he was oblivious. Just because he noticed things didn't necessarily mean he understood all of them! Antonio laughed while he walked.) He liked to watch people and learn their responses and how different people thought or felt.
Lovino was one of his favourites because, even when he was yelling or cursing, there was always so much meaning behind it. Maybe Lovi was embarrassed or he was hiding something or he'd had a bad day (Even the thought of his little tomato sad made him sad. Poor Lovi~)
One time, Antonio remembered when he'd commented on one of Lovino's bruises. Lovino had punched him right in the face (Which really hurt by the way. The fiery Italian could pack a punch!). He'd found out the next day that Lovi had been beaten up by his father. The next week his father had left town. They'd been pretty young back then…
His punches had meaning. His curses were a defence. His blushing… Lovi was always getting embarrassed. It was so cute! For some reason, he blushed even more around the Spaniard, but Antonio could never figure out why…
That was why, when no one else saw the change in Lovino's behaviour, Antonio did. Antonio chuckled. Who need intelligence anyways! He had Lovi senses and they didn't!
Today, Lovino had been even stranger.
Since he'd first started acting funny, Lovi had just been withdrawn and depressed. That had made sense. This made sense. His abuelo had just passed away (and in such a questionable way, too!), but then today, Lovi had just looked like he was on a mission or something! It was like he'd decided something. He'd also been really really nice and much more pleasant than usual. His little Lovi tomato had even hugged him back for once! He was just too cute~
But no matter how much he liked the hug, it worried him. What if his little Lovi tomato was in trouble?
Lovino ran as fast as he could, though his lungs were heaving and his heart felt like it was just about ready to be the totally dick it was and claw its way out of his chest. Plus, though his legs were strong and lean, he'd been running for too long and they were slowing. The gang would catch up with him soon. They had cars, dammit! The fucking cheats!
"Vargas, you damn faggot! Stop fucking running so we can beat you to a pulp!" A voice yelled from behind him, sounding just as out of breathe as he felt. "I can't wait to break you!"
"You're slowing!" Another voice screamed out.
Lovino smirked and he almost laughed. 'Almost' only because he didn't think his body was up for it. Those retards, after all these years, had never improved their taunts. They still sucked shit.
Too bad he actually was slowing. No use denying it.
He could hear them closing in around him, but he wouldn't dare turn around to see how much time he had. He knew it wasn't much. No need to get his fucking panties in a bunch over it.
A black junky looking car turned the corner onto the street he was on.
It stopped in the middle of the road and five guys jumped out, snarls on their faces. He froze for a moment, not knowing how the fuck to handle it or where the hell he'd go to escape, but the few seconds were all those bastards needed. They'd been closer than he'd thought. Shit.
A boot hit his back and he stumbled, refusing to give the bastards the satisfaction of seeing him fall down. Fists and boots, studded knuckles and steel toes hit him from all angles and the breath rushed from his lungs in a gasp. A single tear fell silently down his face and in a last ditch effort, he let out a yell, knowing no one would actually hear it.
Antonio's eyes widened. A yell had sounded from in front of him, capturing the sources pain and helplessness. It rang through his ears and sent a chill through his spin. An ache tore at his heart in a way he didn't even know he was capable of feeling. It hurt so much…
It took him a moment to regain his composure. Really, the only thing that unfroze him was the deep sense of recognition in the voice. He knew that voice… Lovi.
He started to sprint down the streets, taking alleyways and cutting corners he'd been running through for years. It was a boost of adrenalin. He felt as though his legs and mind had simply decided to disconnect so that his subconscious could take control. And boy did his subconscious want him to run.
When the violent thuds and concussions reached his ears, his eyebrows furrowed and his heart clenched. Why? Why would they do this to poor Lovi?
Finally, he reached the street. He ploughed past a ratty car and a rage that he usually kept under a tight lock and chains began to seep through into the corners of his mind as it slowly took over. His usual self-control fell away and he shed it like a second skin, letting out his slightly more sadistic side and for once, not caring because he wanted them to feel the excruciating pain Lovi must have been feeling. He wanted their blood to run and stain his knuckles and for their flesh to rip and shred, getting stuck in the crevasses of his finger nails. He needed their insides to spill out and leak into the sewage where their remains could be devoured by the rats so that even after their death, they would not rest in peace. He wanted them to suffer. And they'd fucking suffer because no one, NO ONE, could touch his Lovi. And by the time he was finished with them… they wouldn't have the limbs to touch anything ever again.
And Antonio laughed.
The first thing Lovino noticed when he regained consciousness was that… Well… He'd regained consciousness! Hell ya! The second was that someone was holding him in their arms and sobbing. Their body was shaking as they rocked back and forth with Lovino in their arms.
After much effort, he managed to pry his swollen eyelids open.
The man had his blood coated arms wrapped around Lovino. Gore soaked hands were gently stroking his cheek, surly leaving trails of blood on his face. He even had blood splatters on his face, which, to Lovino, was not comforting. What did you have to do to someone for their blood to get on your face?
It took him a second to realise that the man that appeared to be a crazed maniac psycho killer was in fact completely retarded, totally sappy, childish Antonio the Tomato Bastard.
Lovino was stunned.
"B-Bastard… What the fuck are you doing here?" Lovino croaked, his voice not sounding at all how he wanted it to. It seemed that when unidentifiable faggot gang man number four had tried to strangle him (The damn bastard…) he'd bruised his neck and vocal chords. Great.
The Spaniard's eyes opened, his green eyes shining with wonder and amazement. "Lovi, mi tomate, I- I thought- I thought that I was too late, and… I'm so sorry for not getting here faster!"
Lovino sighed (which hurt like hell if anyone cared) and rolled his eyes, one of the few things he could move comfortably. "You weren't even supposed to come at all, idiota. And why the fuck are you drenched in blood? That had better not be yours or I will not hesitate to kill you."
Antonio looked away sheepishly and then glanced around them. "Well, see, when I saw all those men hurting you… I kind of lost it."
For the first time since regaining consciousness Lovino decided that yes he should probably survey his surroundings and holy fucking mother of all things horror did it scare the shit out of him. Wait! That's not what he meant! Torn apart and mutilated corpses lying in pools of blood. Who cares right?
"You let the conquistador out?"
Antonio nodded silently looking ashamed of himself. "I just… I couldn't just stand by while they hurt you, Lovi…" Antonio caressed Lovino's cheek as gently as he could, the amount that he cared for the Italian shining in his eyes while the looked at him sadly. "If you had died… Why were they after you?"
This time it was Lovino's turn to look ashamed as he turned his head to avoid eye contact. "Idiot… Well, see… I was apart f their fucking gang, okay? I wanted out."
Antonio's eyes widened. "Y-You…? Oh Lovi, why didn't you tell me? I could've helped. Don't you trust me?"
Lovino looked down, then seeing how broken his body was decided to look elsewhere. The damn fuckers had really wrecked him. "Of course I trust you." Lovino mumbled, blushing through his bruises.
Antonio smiled and his eyes brightened. "You trust me? Really Lovi? Thank you~"
Lovino blushed and would have pushed him away if he had the strength. "Yes god dammit! And I didn't tell you 'cause you're too fucking happy to get mixed up in this shit, okay? You're just too retarded, capiche?"
Antonio's eyes widened and he looked at Lovino with a strange sort of intensity. "You mean you care about me?"
Lovino mumbled a quick, "Ya. What of it, fucktard?"
The Spaniard grinned brighter. "Well I really care about you too~"
The Italian blushed. "Don't go saying stuff like that, idiot. People will start to get the wrong idea."
"What idea, Lovi?" Antonio asked innocently, tilting his head to the side.
"Well, that we're… you know..." Lovino spluttered, completely red faced.
The larger man chuckled and playfully mussed Lovino's hair, grinning cheekily. "You look so cute! Like a little tomato~"
Lovino huffed completely frustrated with his lack of movability. Those motherfuckers had really fucked him up! "Bastard!"
The Spaniard continued to laugh. "Lovi, did you mean that people might think we're together?"
"Well duh! Shit, you're really stupid, tomato bastard."
The tone of Antonio's smile changed. Lovino wasn't sure what kind of change it was until he found the Spaniard leaning in until their noses just barely touched. His eyes shone with the same unknown emotion. "I wouldn't mind if we were together. You know how I feel about you. I haven't exactly been hiding it…" The unknown emotion… It was lust.
Lovino's eyes widened and his cheeks started to change colour. "W-What- What the hell are you smoking?! What feelings have you made obvious?"
Antonio raised an eyebrow in mock disbelief. "And people say I'm the oblivious one…"
"I am not fu-"
And Antonio's mouth pressed gently to Lovino's in a sweet and meaningful kiss. He pulled back only to have Lovino kiss him again, but this time much more passionately (or at least as passionately as he could manage in the other's arms with practically no movability). Antonio's eyes widened for a moment before responding to the kiss. Their mouths moved together in perfect harmony, all the while with Antonio still being quite gentle with the much more fragile and already half broken Lovino.
When the kiss ended, they looked at each other with completely different expressions and then spoke at exactly the same time about completely different things.
"Oh Lovi~ You feel the same way~? That's so great! I thought that you did, but I didn't know and I guess that would have been really awkward if you didn't, huh? I should really think these things through… But you feel the same way~!"
"You fucking bastard! Why the hell didn't you tell me earlier! There I was fucking thinking that you'd hate me or some other retarded thing like that and- Why'd you have to finally kiss me when I'm this screwed up? God damn it! You're such a retard!"
The two boys stopped and stared at each other; one seething and the other floating in happiness. Slowly, Lovino's expression softened. He looked away from Antonio's eyes, a blush on his face.
"Antonio?" Lovino murmured.
Antonio blinked in surprise, before a smile lit up his face. "You called me by my name~"
Lovino sighed and chose not to acknowledge Antonio's realisation. Blushing even more than he already was, he quietly murmured a soft, "Thank you… for saving me. I mean, I- I guess I sort of owe you my life now…"
"You don't owe me anything Lovi! I'm really glad that I-"
"Please let me finish." Lovino said without any malice or anger. He turned and looked Antonio straight in the eyes. "I- I'm only going to say this once, okay? So… So listen. I owe you my life, but… you kind of already had it, okay?" He hid his face in Antonio's chest. "Now take me to my house, bastard! I- I feel like shit and I'm covered in blood and if I don't get a fucking bandage on my arm I'm going to get one hell of an infection and then it'll be all your fault, so… mush!"
Antonio laughed and stood up, picking up Lovino bridal style (which Lovino totally hated, okay? It wasn't like he actually enjoyed being pressed up against Antonio's hot muscled- Damn it!).
Antonio was careful not to jostle the boy in his arms as he walked towards the Vargas household. Lovino was still curled in his arms, barely hanging onto consciousness. For once, the Italian's posture had slackened. The tension that he usually carried in his shoulders and face had smoothed over. Antonio couldn't help but think how cute the boy in his arms was.
"Hey Lovi?" Antonio whispered. "Mi quiero?"
Lovino's eyes didn't open. "Mm…"
Lovino let out a sigh and lazily opened a single green eye. "What?"
Antonio smiled. "My life belongs to you too, you know."
Lovino blushed and closed his eyes. Slowly, he smiled. "I know.
AN Sorry if the ending was really cheesy. Eheheh~ Umm... If the facts in this are wrong, I'm sorry. I don't know much about gangs. I was going to make this about the mafia, but then I realised that if Lovi was trying to get out of a mafia instead of a gang, the story would be more like "Lovi tried to leave the mafia, so everyone in his family died and their money was stolen and then he was later found shot dead in an alleyway three towns over without any of his possessions." I decided to stick with the gang. –Ash (PS It is SO fun to write snapped Spain!)
I really love getting reviews~ Anonymous and short reviews are welcomed too~