Summary: Antonio is a model with two lives. One is the celebrity the pubic expects him to be. The other is a devoted family man with a promise he desprately needs to keep. Roderich is a photographer who has no life. Nothing to live for save for stealing moments in time with his camera. During one of Antonio's shows Roderich is inspired and desires that passion for himself. Unfortunately for him, he will have to eventually learn to share.
The cameras flashed. The bass pulsated within his ribcage. Sleek like the jungle cat, the cat walk was his kingdom. The eyes of strangers caressed his body. He played shamelessly with their lust. Coaxing their desires with swaying hips and sensual lips. His passion. His fire. He was the Venus and the Siren. They entered his domain at their own risk. Because he played for keeps. Antonio left his audience in an uproar. As always, Spain's number one male model never disappointed.
There was one audience member that wasn't fantasizing about the sun kissed skin of the Spaniard at least that was not what his expression gave away. His face was as blank as new snow and almost as fair. But inside, Roderich was riding a tidal wave of naughty ideas in his head. The things he wanted to do to that Spaniard how it made him shudder. He wanted to monopolize that lithe body, make it arch and ache and burn with a passion. He watched him as he disappeared behind the silk curtains, never once blinking.
"Nice job, Antonio! As always you are the best!" Antonio's manager squealed with glee, a greedy fat man who was balding and doing a very bad job of hiding it. Not that Antonio would ever say that to his manager's face.
"Gracias, Boss." Antonio politely pushed passed the fat man to chat with his long time friend and modeling rival Francis.
"Mon cher, you did wonderfully." Francis kissed Antonio on each cheek once as was his usual greeting to the Spaniard. "If only you'd show that passion to me in bed," he joked.
"Hehe, if I did I'm afraid you would burst into flame, amigo."
Francis was the closest thing Antonio had to a brother. Given, Francis would love to be in his pants half the time, but he wasn't anything if not loyal and trustworthy to Antonio. The Frenchman invited him to a round of after show drinks, but he politely refused. Said there was something more urgent for him to attend to.
"Is that little Italian boy sick again?" Francis sighed. "Maybe it's your fussing over him, mon cher."
"No, Lovino is fine, better now that Feliciano's living with us. I just need some time to myself, comprendes?"
Oui oui, we all have those nights." Francis made a mock sigh of despair. "I suppose I could always ask Gilbert out. Now there's a party that never ends!"
Antonio laughed because it was completely true. Gilbert always was up to something, good, bad, or illegal, it didn't matter. "Just don't get arrested like last time."
"But of course, we'll be careful," Francis said, seeing him out to the back door and waved him a taxi. "You be careful yourself, mon cher."
Antonio waved to him out the window. He sat there alone in the back of the taxi, letting the car's thrumming engine lull him to a light sleep.
The taxi had taken Antonio to a mansion-turned-retirement home. The outer wall was quite high and made of brick. The gravel driveway was centered by a fountain, but nothing too extravagant. It was already past visiting hours, but Antonio hoped that the night staff would let him pass. He asked the taxi to just wait for him and that he wouldn't be long.
As Antonio made his way to the receptionist he was relieved to see it was Elizaveta who was working the front desk that night. "Buenas noches, Elizaveta. Como estas?"
She giggled, "Good evening to you too. I'm very well. He's waiting in the game room for you." Elizaveta buzzed him in without a hassle after he signed into the visitor's log.
In the game room was Lovino's and Feliciano's grandfather sitting alone with a chess board in front of him. "It's your turn, boy," he mumbled. His voice was strained and monotone and his eyes were tired.
Antonio hated seeing such an amazing man be reduced as such. A loving father and grandfather put in a depressing place like this by the ones he'd loved. The idea itself made Antonio's chest ache.
"Good evening, sir. Sorry I'm late." Antonio took his place on the other side of the chess board. "I have a taxi waiting for me so I can't fini-."
"Doesn't matter. Make your move." They sat there for what felt like a long time. "How are my grandsons?"
"Good," Antonio smiled and moved his rook, "the courts ruled in my favor and I'm their guardian now. Check."
"I see," Grandpa Vargas moved his knight to slay the rook. He held the rook in his fingers, rolling the piece with deep thoughts in his eyes. "You have done much for my family. Thank you and god bless."
Antonio got up from his seat. "Thank you for the game, Padrino Vargas." Antonio leaned down and gently kissed the old man on the crown before leaving the retirement home.
It was late by the time Antonio got home to his apartment. The time of course didn't stop his charges from staying up late.
"Ve~, Papa, you're home~!" Feliciano, the younger brother, hugged the Spaniard. "It was getting so late. We thought you weren't coming back."
"Stupid, only you thought that!" Lovino snapped, but hugged Antonio anyways. "Next time you come home late I'm going to change the locks, irresponsible idiot."
Antonio sighed. No matter how tired he was, it was always a joy to be greeted at the door by his adorable wards even if it was past their bed times. He picked up Feliciano and took Lovino by the hand and led them to their bedroom.
"It's late and you have school tomorrow, si?"
"But," Feliciano yawned, "you just got home~. Tell us a story before we sleep."
"I will, but tomorrow." Antonio kissed Feliciano on the forehead. He tucked the little Italian who yawned again and snuggled against his pillow.
"Good night, Lovino." Antonio didn't give him a kiss or tucked him in.
"Hey! What about me!"
"Hm? Did I forget something, Lovino?" Antonio smiled innocently.
"Y-you only tucked in Feli! W-what about…me..?" Lovino clutched his blankets. Even if he was the oldest, Lovino always felt like everyone loved him less than his brother.
"Oh, but you said yesterday you were too old for that," he said.
"Well…well I changed my mind!" Lovino sniffled. Small tears started to form at the corner of his eyes.
"Oh, Lovi, I'm sorry." Antonio rushed to the elder boy's bed and hugged him close. "I didn't mean to make you cry. From now on I'll tuck you in every night, okay?"
"W-well…not every night…" The little Italian tried to save face with his sometimes over affectionate guardian.
Antonio chuckled and kissed Lovino on the forehead and tucked him in. He took a step back and looked over his new family now tucked away safe in their beds. Twenty-four, single, and a "father" of two what more could the Spaniard ask for. He left a crack on the door so it wouldn't be too dark and went to his own room to prepare for a well deserved night's rest.
Roderich worked painstakingly in his darkroom to develop the latest additions to his collection. Measuring the chemicals and counting the seconds like second nature, he handled each print with care. After everything is said and done these prints were all he had. There was rarely a space in his house that was not covered by photos or collages. Even the tiles in his bathroom were customized with black and white pictures. But not all his work was displayed for his guests, if he ever had any, to admire. No, only pictures he 'didn't want' were shown off. The others were stored in a library's worth of albums. Those were for himself and himself alone. He tenderly swirled the chemical bath, thinking what kind of pictures these newborn photos would be.
Author: Again, like my last story, if you want to know what was said in Spanish/French google it. I hope I haven't butchered anyone's favorite character, especially Grandpa Rome. They just fit better with the story this way. If you have any questions or see that I've had a major typing malfunction, please post it on review or PM me. I would also like any comments good or bad as long as they're not flames.
