Inbound 'til 2020

Picking Tomatoes in August

The next day, Lovino woke as normal. Dragging himself up and downstairs, he hadn't quite remembered that he'd basically said yes to letting Antonio touch his precious tomato garden. That, however, couldn't last.

Lovino had been doing the usual, drinking coffee on the bright Saturday morning when Antonio walked in. Antonio was smiling, excited energy surrounding him. Despite his usual idiotically-cheerful manner, this struck Lovino as odd. Lovino looked at him questioningly, a grimace gracing his features. Why the hell did he look so happy?

Finishing the cup and rinsing it, Lovino turned to see Antonio still looking stupid as he poured himself coffee as well.

It had weirded him out enough for him to actually speak up. "What are you making that damn face for?" Lovino questioned abruptly.

"I'm excited about later!" Antonio supplied, voice as upbeat as ever.

"What d'you mean?" Lovino urged, trying to get him to at least explain what was happening 'later' that'd make him so excited.

Quirking his head slightly, in a way that made Lovino think of a stupid, perplexed puppy, Antonio asked, "You said you would pick tomatoes with me, you remember?"

Well shit.

Lovino hadn't thought Antonio would take that seriously, especially because he'd said maybe and had been being a dick to him since he'd arrived. Why would Antonio actually want to do something with someone so mean to him? That didn't make sense. He probably was just in it for the tomatoes. Further, why was he so happy about that? Spending the day outside in the blistering heat picking tomatoes with the bitchiest guy on the planet didn't sound in the least bit exciting, and Lovino is the bitchiest guy on the planet. Quizzing himself on why Antonio would actually want to do that, he was pulled out of his thoughts by the man himself.

"Well, you remember now!" Antonio laughed lightly. Probably at how stupid he must think I am for forgetting , Lovino thought bitterly.

"Yeah, well I'll make you stay inside if you don't wipe that stupid fucking grin off of your face." He threatened, just as bitter as his thoughts.

That afternoon, at around three, Lovino and Antonio found themselves outside, behind the white house, where a few rows of tomatoes grew, along with a few other harvestable plants. They were both clad in light-colored t-shirts, Lovino in jeans and Antonio in shorts. Basket in hand, Lovino stood as tall as he could against the bright summer sun. He glanced over at Toño, eyeing him with a certain amount of suspicion that seemed perfectly valid at the time. After all, Antonio could just have been bullshitting, and could totally fuck up the garden if that's the case. Turning his glance into a brief glare, Lovino turned back around and said, "Let's just get started."

After a quick nod from Antonio, they set to work, only talking now and then.

The tomatoes were, as expected, ripe. The short rows bore enough fruit to fill both baskets, their smell fresh and light. The garden had obviously been flourishing, not by any hand other than Lovino's. It was honestly the one thing he was truly proud of, this garden was all Lovino's own, and he had tended to it himself for years. Somehow, despite his once inexperienced hands, it had always prospered. While Feliciano had always been admired for his art and outgoing personality, Lovino had only his garden to be proud of, and he hung onto that little strip of pride. The large, round fruit was just proof of his labors.

Getting back into the house, both Antonio and Lovino's backs cooled without the sun's constant presence. They couldn't be sure how long they were out there, but if the heat surrounding them and the slight crick in their necks said anything, it was a while. Luckily, there was a benefit to their efforts. Namely, two full baskets of beautiful tomatoes.

Setting his basket on the counter, Antonio said, "What will we do now?"

Surprisingly enough, Lovino hadn't fully hated his time with Antonio that day. Lovino was expecting to want to shoot himself at every corner, and yet, he'd almost enjoyed it, not that he'd ever admit to it. Antonio wasn't that irritating. It was a scary thought that Lovino would absolutely never let cross his mind. Before responding, Lovino glanced at the clock. "I'm in charge of cooking tonight. I'm gonna start soon, probably will use a tomato from the garden."

Antonio suddenly got that dopey look from the morning on his face once again. "Can I help you?"

Sighing dramatically, he let his irate personality peek out as he shot another glare at Antonio. Lovino said, "Do whatever you want, bastard. Just don't be in my way."

Lovino, much like he had earlier, came to realize that having Antonio around maybe wasn't so bad. Antonio wasn't completely useless in a kitchen. As Lovino pulled out the necessary ingredients to make the meal, Antonio started asking about what he should get out as well. It was irritating, Lovino was sure of that, but he put Antonio to work.

When Antonio put the fettucini into the boiling water, he ended up mistakenly bumping his hand against the sweltering pot. Antonio shot his hand away, yelping out of pain.

Lovino, hearing the sound, turned around to face him. Without any pity in his voice, Lovino asked, "What the fuck did you do this time?"

Giving an awkward smile through the hurt still emanating from the burn, Antonio said, "Uh... it burnt me?"

And suddenly, being in the kitchen with Antonio was that bad .