Lovino woke up to the face of a sleeping Spaniard.
He sat up, inspecting himself for clothing.
What he wore wasn't his.
What did this mean?
He wiggled a little to make sure his butt didn't hurt.
It didn't.
Thank the tomato lord in heaven amen.
But wait a minute...
What if he...topped?!
Pfft. As if.
He poked Antonio in the face, waking him up.
"Hey, bastard. What the hell happened last night?"
"You fell in the ocean." Antonio stretched his arms out. Smiling as if children weren't dying in Africa.
"How?"
"You drank like five hundred bottles of wine. At least that's what Kiku said. But Alfred told me not to trust his word because he was too distracted by Matthew and Lars making out on the couch..."
"Then what?"
"Then me and you went on the beach and you fell in the water."
"And you leant me your clothes?"
"Sí."
"Thanks bastard."
Antonio smiled brighter and climbed out of bed.
"Wait a minute..."
"Que?"
"What the hell are you wearing?"
Antonio turned around, flaunting his bright pink pyjamas covered in turtles. The front of his top said "shell yeah."
"Oh this? Just the most amazing outfit known to man!"
"It's awful. It has a pun on it."
Antonio looked genuinely hurt. "These are my favourite pyjamas."
"Are you into turtles or something?"
"I love turtles, Lovi. They're a miracle sent from heaven."
"Turtles...tomatoes...is there anything you like that doesn't start with the letter T?"
"Lovino starts with L..."
Lovino felt his face heat up. "Wait? what?!"
Antonio only laughed and moonwalked out of the room in his stupid pyjamas.

(•••)

Meanwhile, downstairs, Gilbert was hunched over one of the few beers left over from the party, bags under his eyes and hair sticking up everywhere.
"I can't believe he has a boyfriend."
"Well, 'e's sweet and really cute, so I guess you could say I saw it coming."
"A boyfriend, Francis. I feel cheated on."
"Matthieu isn't cheating on you. You're not even friends."
"We are friends. I peed on him remember."
"Mon dieu, Gilbert. When will you just grow up and accept zhat sometimes people don't like you." Francis slammed his wine glass onto the counter, breaking the stem and causing the rest of the glass to fall and spill as well as cut the Frenchman's hand.
"Whoa, Franny, vhat's gotten into jou?" Gilbert stood, looking in shock at the mess his friend had made.
Francis stared at his injury as if he couldn't quite see it. He blinked, realizing that Gilbert was still there before turning and running into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.
"Franny?"
"Leave me alone!"
"C'mon Francis. Tell me what's going on."
But Francis didn't reply at all.

I totally had a plan to write all these chapters over the weekend but things got busy and I ended up doing jack squat. >~<