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Building Blocks and Condom Boxes

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As he sat in the kitchen by himself, sipping at a warm cup of coffee with a nice, wholesome bowl of Kellogs cereal the way he normally did every morning, he flipped through the newspaper in a haze of slowly growing disinterest. As of lately, Romano had been living with a roommate for around three weeks in his three-bedroom apartment now. Or should he say their three-room apartment.

Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, a handsome twenty-five year old Spanish man with a smile as bright and blinding as the darkness in the scowls Romano was capable of dishing out, was sleeping peacefully in his bedroom down the narrow hall beside the bathroom as Romano continued to skim over the newspaper. He eyed the weather for the following week, then turned the page.

For the duration of the Spanish man's two week stay, Romano had learned a few things about his new roommate. Like how he was much too comfortable with his body. Sometimes, when Romano would return early from work, he would catch the Spanish man sauntering around the apartment in nothing but his underwear or a towel after showering.

It wasn't that Antonio's body wasn't as nice as it really was. Romano, who was raised in a strict family, was just not used to the exposure of another person's body nor did he ever take it very well. The faces he would make and the redness in his face always made Antonio laugh. Also, in addition to his constant parading in little to no clothing, the man had already begun to bring home visitors.

Not only did he find Antonio with strangers over at stranger periods of the nightnight, but during the daytime as well. When Romano had gotten off work around noon instead of the usual 3:30 a few days back, he had entered the apartment to lustful screams, breathes, and words coming from Antonio's bedroom. It left his olive complexion flushed.

Though Romano had said he did not mind as long as Antonio and whomever he decided to sleep with kept it in his room and not in the living room or other parts of the suite, the amount of people he had over already was a little sickening. Or at least to Romano, the twenty-one year old virgin who had no intention of having intimate relations with anyone until marriage. Sometimes Romano would avoid any sort of physical contact with Antonio as a result of this; going even as far as to shower immediately after contact, not that he would ever admit that.

Bringing a spoonful of milky cereal to his mouth, he chewed quietly. The crunching sound of cereal in his ears was relaxing, and he continued to eat the contents of his yellow bowl.

The things about Antonio that Romano did not like were already piling up atop one another at an alarmingly fast pace, but, after seeing Antonio cover rent for the month after only having lived there for a few days, the Italian man found that he had no choice but to let Antonio stay, grateful, to say the least.

Cold fingers brushed against the rim of the white and blue coffee mug absentmindedly, moving in a clock-wise motion, and then counter-clock wise slowly, fluidly. Romano's eye brows knitted together at the burning frustration and his irked curiosity. For the past ten or so days, Romano had been trying to figure out what Antonio did for a living.

The man work, that was for sure. Despite waking up and leaving for work later than Romano, as well as arriving home before him, the man easily seemed to make much more than Romano raked in, and the intense curiosity that picked at the back of his head like a fire slowly burning away all it touched was too much at this point.

Without realizing, he began to tap his foot impatiently.

For some reason, Romano never asked Antonio straight-forward what he did for a living when he interviewed him. All he said was that he had a job he had fun doing that paid well, and had enough money and funds to keep them financially stable, which appealed to Romano at the time, who had been crawling up the wall worrying over how he was going to pay for his apartment's rent, so suffice to say he did not think too much about it.

Now, it appeared to be all he thought about.

As he got out of his seat to put his empty bowl of cereal in the dish washer along with his cup of coffee, he walked towards the bathroom to brush his teeth and hair, contemplating the idea of asking Antonio after work. The wooden floor of his living room felt cold under his sock covered feet as well as the white tiles of the bathroom.

There was a tiny feeling of uncertainty that rested in asking Antonio, though.

What if it was something weird? With the way things have been going, with all those times Romano would catch the Spanish man with people in bed with him, Romano only had one logical thought in mind: Antonio was a call-boy.

He felt a little guilty assuming that he sold his body for money, but nothing else seemed to match up with the evidence Antonio had laid out for him. Quickly brushing his teeth and then combing his hair as he gargled a bit of mouthwash, he stared at the mirror with a small frown. It pissed him off. Antonio pissed him off.

Romano fixed the collar of his shirt, and adjusted his jeans.

Swishing the minty green liquid in his mouth for another five seconds, he leaned his face down into the sink, and spat out the contents of his mouth. Just about everything about him pissed him off, and what pissed him off even more about Antonio was how damn likeable he was regardless. The mouthwash slid down the sink, and, when Romano stood up to wipe the corners of his mouth, he found Antonio's shirtless and smiling figure standing behind him through the mirror's reflection.

His shoulder jumped in surprise, and then tensed noticeably as the Spaniard's muscular arms wrapped around his middle, his chin finding a nice little spot at the junction where Romano's neck met his effeminate shoulders. "Good morning, Romano!"

Oh, and another thing that pissed off Romano: Antonio was exceedingly affection. This did not match well at all with Romano, who valued the belief in one's personal space.

He struggled against his roommate's hold like a fish caught in a net. "Good morning my ass. Let go!"

Laughing in that abnormally cheerful way Romano was growing reluctantly accustomed to, Antonio followed Romano out the bathroom.

"Will you put some clothes on?" Remarked Romano after glancing back at Antonio, who continued to follow him into his bedroom, a small hop in the Spaniard's step.

"Why? No one's around." Antonio flopped around on Romano's bed. Romano didn't seem to notice as his eyes were fixated on his school bag. " And I don't have work until, like, noon."

"Noon?" Back facing the Spaniard, Romano picked up his bag and made sure he packed all the supplies he would need for the day at his computer desk. He looked through each little pocket and opening to make sure everything was in order, and stuffed in an extra box of milk chocolate in there for good measure.

The kids in his kindergarten class loved it when he gave them treats. So he thought he'd use it to his advantage and only give them candies and chocolates when they behaved. Believe it or not, Romano had one of the most behaved classes in his school's entire division. Then again, from time to time, his students were equally as out of control as they were polite and obedient. "Then what are you going to do for the rest of the day?"

"I dunno, sleep?" Antonio gave a shrug as he rolled over onto his stomach to watch Romano prepare his bag. "They just said to rest up."

"'They?'" Muttered Romano under his breath. How dare he speak so vaguely! It drove Romano insane! He nearly snapped a handful of pencil's in half as he placed them in their proper case.

Who was this 'they'? And why would he need to 'rest up'? What would he be doing that involved getting enough sleep?

"Maybe I'll go watch TV since I'm in pretty good shape and ready for whatever."

It was starting to sound more and more like he made money through sex the more Antonio spoke. At the high possibility of such a thing plaguing his mind, he turned around with his bag slung over his shoulder. He picked up his keys and caught Antonio rolling around on his bed.

'Good shape' for sex and 'ready for whatever' during sex, while lying on his bed.

If he'd been avoiding any sort of physical contact with Antonio, seeing him roll about on his bed made him realize it was equally as bad.

Romano's eye twitched.

"What's wrong, Romano?" Antonio fell into step beside Romano as he walked his roommate to the door. Suddenly, the Italian turned to face Antonio.

"Do you have sex for money?" The question left Romano's lips without him realizing, and, dropping his keys, he slapped his hands over his mouth as if to take back his words.

Silently, they stood in front of the door staring at each other. Antonio's green eyes were wide in a shocked daze, while Romano's had filled with embarrassment and a twinge of guilt. While he had planned on asking Antonio, he hadn't planned on practically calling him a whore! He was ready for whatever sort of angry outburst from the Spanish man. It was only fair. If someone implied such a thing in regards to Romano, he sure as Hell would have had their head on a plate by now.

He bit his lip and braced himself wordlessly.

But, to Romano's surprise, Antonio burst into a raucous laughter that pierced through the silence of the apartment. He wrapped his arms around his bare stomach, and bent over at the waist to laugh hard as Romano watched in growing confusion.

"Wait, what? What's so funny?"

Antonio looked up, wiping a tear out of his eye. "Hahaha, you think I'm a prostitute? Hahaha!"

Romano began to chuckle and slipped on his shoes, realizing how silly he was to think such a thing. The two had a good laugh for a couple of minutes, and Romano stepped out into the hallway with a foolish snicker. Even he had to find the humor in the situation. He was being incredulously stupid.

"S-Sorry about that." Romano apologized embarrassingly. "I'll see you later."

As he turned to towards the stair case at the end of the hall, he shook his head as if loose with his hands planted firmly in his trouser pockets. Just as he was about to begin walking, Antonio said to him, in a disturbingly proud tone.

"Just so you know, I'm not a prostitute. I'm a pornstar." He smiled. "See you after work."

Antonio disappeared behind the slowly closing door.