Lovino always remembers to make sure no one is around when he slips his hand into Antonio’s, always remembers to look somewhere else so he doesn’t look too desperate. Because truthfully he is too desperate, and even if Antonio can be too oblivious to see it, he’s worried someone else might.
At times he feels like he’s drowning and Antonio is his only anchor.
At other times he thinks Antonio’s the one dragging him down.
Either way he can’t separate himself from the other man now, no matter how hard he tries, so when he feels soft lips on his ear he easily melts into him. Easily lets his lips be taken in a kiss, because it’s not worth fighting anymore, especially when the other man breathes sweet Spanish nothings into his mouth.
And when he’s pressed against the wall, with those soft lips on his neck, all Lovino can mutter out is: “Are we alone?”
((college au where Lovi is studying to be a priest))
Lovino remembers June. When he didn’t have Antonio’s name on his tongue or these feelings in his gut. He remembers when everything was so simple, or at least easier to ignore. He kneels and prays for all his sins to be forgiven, the rosary in his hand feels heavier as he clutches it between shaking fingers.
Antonio gave it to him.
Everything reminds him of smooth tan skin and soft Spanish words. He rests his forehead against the pew, biting his lip as he tries not to cry.
But he’s not crying from guilt anymore. The closer and closer he gets to falling in love, the harder it is to believe that this is wrong.
Something like this can’t be wrong.
Maybe he’s already fallen too much.