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If there was one thing Lovino Vargas hated -- and it was hard to pick just one, he hated a lot of things -- it was working at Subway.
It wasn't his coworkers (Matthew and Arthur, who usually shared a shift with him, were surprisingly tolerable) or his pay (it was decent, and he hadn't been fired for his attitude, so he was sort of thankful). No, it was the customers.
Lovino didn't have to deal with customers a lot (since both he and Arthur tended to... offend them, Matthew usually took the counter) but when it was only Arthur and himself, they played some dumb game of chance to decide who had to face the customers. More often than not Lovino lost because at that English bastard had insanely good luck, so he got stuck dealing with customers. Which sucked.
"Welcome to Subway," Lovino huffed at a woman and her teenage son, "What do you want?"
"Oh, well we'd like-"
When the moon hits your eyes, like a big pizza pie, that's amore~
Lovino flushed as he fumbled for his phone. Damn you, fashionably tight jeans with your stupid small pockets! He looked at the caller ID and groaned, "I have to take this. Just look over the menu again and make sure that whatever you were going to choose isn't shit," Ignoring the woman's scandalized look, he answered the call, "Pronto?"
"Ve, ciao, fratello!"
"Don't 'ciao, fratello' me! I'm at work, what do you want?"
"I was just calling to tell you that my flight just got in! Luddy is renting a car and then we're going to drive over to your place to drop off our stuff and then maybe go out-"
"What the hell do you mean 'our stuff'?" Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the mother cover her kid's ears, not that it did anything since the kid was blaring music from his headphones. "The Potato Bastard isn't staying at my house."
"Why not?"
Lovino rolled his eyes, "Because I'd rather not hear my brother and his dumb boyfriend fucking while I'm trying to sleep!"
"But Lovi, where else would he stay? Ve, you can't leave mio amore to sleep on the street! And we can be super quiet, ve, especially since Luddy likes gags and stuff anyway, you know?"
"Oh my fuck, I didn't need to know that, ew, ew, ew. I'm hanging up. He better not be at my house when I get there. Goddamn it, ew."
Lovino stuffed the phone back into his pocket and turned to the suddenly angry woman across the counter. Fucking fantastic.
"Young man, you should be ashamed of yourself, using such language and corrupting my poor son!"
Lovino scoffed, "Look, lady, I don't know if you noticed, but your son is dressed in all black and I'm pretty fucking sure that he's listening to Mayday Parade; As far as I can tell, he's been 'corrupted' or whatever without my influence. Plus, it's not like he can hear me anyway."
The woman huffed, and grabbed her son's arm. Before storming out of the restaurant, she said, "You've just lost a customer, and I'm reporting you to your manager!"
Lovino waved the threat off, "Good fucking luck with that!"
Lovino's manager, and owner of the store, was an incredibly annoying Dane who been uncontactable and on a vacation with his Norweigian boyfriend for the last three months; besides, even when he as here, he wouldn't have done anything because he found Lovino's personality "adorable" and "hilarious". In lieu of an actual boss, Arthur had been left "in charge," so needless to say, customer complaints were ignored more often than not. Speaking of Arthur...
"You know, just because your brother scars you with tales of his sexcapades," The Brit started without taking his eyes off his book, "Doesn't mean you should scare away customers. We rarely have any as it is."
Lovino pouted, "It wasn't my fault though! She was just being a bitch."
"Yes, of course she was." Arthur agreed, although Lovino could still see his smirk. Lovino stuck his tongue out and flipped Arthur off at the same time, to which Arthur replied with a, "I can't see you, but I'm sure that whatever you're doing is childish and unbecoming."
"Fuck you, Eyebrows."
"You're not my type, Lovino."
Hours later, business was still slow, and Lovino was playing on his phone when the door chimed to announce someone's arrival. "Welcome to Subway," he monotoned.
"Oh cher Lovino," A very annoying, and very French, accent rang out. Both Arthur and Lovino groaned, "So formal with your favorite customer!"
"Out," Lovino growled, "No one wants to hear your dumb flirting today."
Lovino barely had to look up to know Francis had held a dramatic hand to his heart, "But I've brought someone with me!"
"Who the hell would go anywhere with y-y-y-wow."
Lovino could vaguely hear Arthur snickering, but he didn't really care because Francis had stepped aside just as the door rang again, announcing the presence of a fucking god. His whole essence screamed "I know I'm attractive, and I don't even try", from his perfectly messy mop of hair to his ripped, loose jeans to his paint-splattered, non-name-brand sneakers.
Lovino barely registered that he was gaping until Arthur paused his laughter to mutter, "If you don't close your mouth you'll catch flies, and I highly doubt that you'd be snoggable then."
Lovino snapped his mouth shut with a glare at Arthur and turned back to Francis in shock. "He's with you?"
Francis smirked at him knowingly and Lovino could feel his ears warm up. "In a physical sense? I suppose so. However," He paused as the mystery guy walked closer to the counter to look at the menu, and leaned in to whisper the remainder, "In an emotional, romantic, and, I suppose, even more physical sense, I happen to know that he is not with anyone."
"I didn't mean it that way, you fucking wino!" Lovino yelled, immediately regretting it when the primo looked over at him for a second, before continuing, albeit more quietly. "I meant, how did you trick someone so..." Stunning, attractive, hot, handsome, perfect... Lovino's brain unhelpfully supplied. "So... normal into spending time with you? Especially when you're such a gross, annoying perv."
Francis feigned hurt again, but before he could dramatically claim anything, the attractive stranger cleared his throat.
"Um, disculpe," And Dio help him, the guy spoke a romance language. "Am I interrupting or...?"
"Of course-a you aren't!" Lovino inwardly died because he could feel that his smile was way too wide and his accent always came on thicker when he was nervous and oh my god, he was making a fool of himself. "Welcome to-a Subway, a-how may I help you?"
Much to Lovino's surprise, the man brightened. "Oh! Your accent is so cute~ Where are you from?"
"I'm not cute, you bast- er, vengo da Roma, in Italia- God fucking damn it, I mean, Rome. I'm from Rome." Lovino felt his face heat up and stomach turn in delight. This gorgeous human called him -- his accent, whatever -- cute; even though that was his least favorite compliment, it was a compliment all the same.
The man hummed in recognition and turned to reexamine the menu before giving Lovino what could only be described as a lingering twice over (not that it was a full twice over, because even if the man was a bit taller than him -- perfect kissing height, Lovino couldn't help but note -- the counter was still over waist height) and licking his lips slowly. "Would you mind if I asked how long the Italian was?"
Now, Lovino was Italian, and as such, he could flirt. Lovino was a better flirt than Feli (although still not as good as their younger brother, but really, no one was), and had charmed many a shop lady into giving him a free tomato or two, but in that moment -- as he heard Arthur squeak from repressed laughter, as that handsome bastard smirked at him, as that extremely thinly veiled innuendo floated in the suddenly too thick air -- Lovino couldn't think of a thing to say. He just stood there, probably looking like a fucking fish out of water, as his whole body turned red (And no, that wasn't an exaggeration; Lovino, at 26 years old, had "explored" enough to discover that his near-trademark, whore-lipstick-colored blush could spread all over his delicate olive skin, from the tips of his ears to the balls of his feet), until he blurted out something utterly idiotic.
"W-We have two variations of the Italian sub, the B.M.T. and spicy, and they both come in 6- and 12-inch form!"
The man blinked owlishly at Lovino and Lovino fought the urge to cry and beat his head against the counter. Then, his mouth twitched into a smile and he began laughing. Lovino frowned, because even if his laugh was perfect (Deep and infectious, it made even Lovino want to smile despite his mortification and frustration, and cristo, his teeth were almost blinding and as straight as fucking military tombstones), he hated being laughed at. It didn't matter how cute the guy was, Lovino was going to-
When the moon hits your eyes, like a big pizza pie, that's amore~
"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Lovino aggressively pulled his phone out and slammed his finger on the talk button, switching to Italian mid-sentence. "Feliciano Veneciano Vargas, you have better be calling for a good reason, because there is a really hot guy here and you are interrupting"
"Ooo, really? Is he single? Are you going to get his number? Ve, should I tell Luddy that you won't be home until tomorrow?"
"Oh my god, I am at work! I just met the guy," Lovino rolled his eyes, "Christ, do you think I'm easy or something? I'd at least make the bastard buy me dinner first."
"Ve, well, I was going to ask what you wanted me to cook, since I'm going to the store anyway because you only have tomatoes, bread, and milk in you your fridge, but now it'll just be a surprise! Have fun at work, Lovi~"
"Don't fucking call me 'Lovi', idiota!"
"Ciao!"
"Motherfucking Feli fucking calling me at work, implying that I'm a goddamn manwhore," Lovino grumbled under his breath as he threw his phone somewhere behind him (because no matter how hot his ass looked, he wasn't going to force his phone back into the pockets of those jeans ever again) before glaring at the still grinning perfect human being, looking up through his bangs to try and filter out some of the hotness (spoiler alert: it didn't fucking work), "What the hell was it that you wanted again?"
The brunet seemed slightly shocked by Lovino's sudden change in demeanor, which Lovino couldn't help but feel at least a little pleased by, and chuckled awkwardly before responding. "A BLT with extra tomatoes on wheat bread, por favor."
And even though it was hard to stay mad at hot people who speak other languages, Lovino could hold a grudge if nothing else. So, he made the literal Adonis a perfect sandwich --bprobably the best one he had ever made, if Lovino was being honest -- but he did so in complete silence, ignoring the other man's attempts at conversation.
"Here's your sandwich. Have a fucking fantastic day."
Despite Lovino's attitude, the man still smiled, "Ah, gracias!" He paused and bit his lip, and it was more attractive than it should've been, before adding on, "I hope your day goes well too... Lovi."
Lovino's blush returned with a vengeance, and while he was spluttering for a response, Francis grabbed the prime piece of person and dragged him out. As soon as they were out of view of the windows, Lovino let his head fall onto the glass over the ingredients.
"I'm going to die alone, Arthur."
Arthur tsked lightly and, finally, went behind the counter to pat Lovino on the back. "Now, now, lad. You'll always have Matthew. And I suppose, myself as well."
"You're the fucking worst, that doesn't comfort me at all," Lovino whined into the glass.
A piece of paper landed on Lovino's head. "No, but this might."
"What the-" Lovino's eyes widened. XXX-XXXX, call me! ~Antonio, the paper read in dark green ink. "When the hell did he have time to write this?"
"Probably during your painfully awkward silence," Arthur offered, and got whacked in the side as a reward. "But that doesn't matter. Are you going to call him or text him, and how long are you going to wait? Come on, Lovino, these are the questions that really matter."
Lovino rolled his eyes, "I'm not giving you fodder for your dumb romance novel, and I'm not calling him. He seemed like an arrogant, perverted bastard; I could tell why he was one of wine-face's friends."
"Uh-huh, and was this before or after you drooled over him like he was the last cannolo in existence?"
"Comparing hot guys to cannoli is unfair and inaccurate."
Arthur rose an unusually bushy brow, "So you admit that you found him attractive?"
"Damn you and your mind games, Eyebrows," Lovino cursed as he flustered. "Fine. He's not hard on the eyes, but he's a bastard and I'm not going to use the number."
But then again, if the piece of paper somehow found its way into Lovino's pocket, then who was he to test fate and its apparent want for Lovino to call this "Antonio"?