Lovino sighed. He bit his lip from where he was doing homework in his room while he heard his father and his two friends talking. He imagined his father and the annoying one sharing a bottle of wine together while the other one with the stupid German accent drinking from a can of beer with that stupid smirk on his face sat across from them. That's how they were every Friday night since his mother's death.

He glanced at a framed photo of himself, his baby brother, and his parents that he kept by his bed. He let himself give it a sad, nostalgic smile remembering her. He had learned how to cook Italian food from her. He hadn't cared much for the authentic Spanish meals that his father made either and his mother had studied Italian cuisine in college. For Lovino's 18th birthday, the two had planned to travel to the nation, actually see it together. His mother had even started saving money for it. That all changed when she died.

His father often reminded him how much like her he really was, in both appearance and personality. He was ruder than her, and a bit more coarse, but they had a similar fiery spirit that no one who knew his mother before her untimely death could really deny. It wasn't exactly something that his father, Antonio, brought up that often, just around her birthday, their wedding day, holidays, the anniversary of her death. Times like that. Romana Vargas wasn't just the kind of person that he could forget after a few months, and Lovino didn't want the man to anyway.

Call him weak, but he was scared that if his father found another woman to date and marry that he wouldn't want him, a reminder of a life he could care less about, one that he wanted to forget in lieu of making a new family with this new woman.

He let out a huff, not in the mood to do homework anymore, realising that he hadn't got anything done in the twenty minutes that he had been staring at the homework sheet. Oh well. Not like he really needed to do it anyway. It was the weekend. He had all of Saturday and Sunday to remember that it needed to be filled out. Feliciano, his little brother, knocked on the door to his room, but he didn't answer. If he did, Feliciano would be hell to kick out, the boy being incredibly clingy, and Lovino needed privacy on Friday nights…

He frowned, wondering if his usual guest was coming around later or if he was going straight home. If he was too drunk to drive or if he just wanted to see him, he would. Otherwise, Lovino would just attempt—and fail—to do the homework that he could care less about. He really hoped that the man would come by, just for the distraction. No other reason.

Feliciano started whining against the door. Lovino groaned. "Dammit, Feli! If I don't want to let you in I don't fucking have to, you bastard!" Since his mother's death, Feliciano had grown clingy, whiny, babyish. He had only been about seven at the time. But Lovino had taken it hard. Romana was the only person in his family of idiots who had ever understood him. She was the only one who had gotten him.

Lovino just wished that he'd gotten to come out to her before she had died when he was ten. Now, he was stuck with Antonio and Feliciano, and while neither were homophobic as far as he knew—Lovino didn't know if his father knew that his two best friends weren't all that straight, and Lovino only knew because the one, Gilbert, who told him himself that he was demisexual but could only connect with men on top of it, had told him while he was drunk about Francis, the one Lovino hated the hell out of, and his many hundred lovers. Gilbert had gone on to tell Lovino all the juicy details of his own sex life. Or lack thereof. That list had been considerably shorter than he had thought it to be. Not that he had put much thought into it beforehand.

Antonio still didn't know that his 15-year-old son had been talking to his friends about their sex lives, and Lovino wasn't about to tell him.

The banging against his door had long stopped, though Lovino could hear his brother's piercing tenor voice crying to Antonio now. He could hear Antonio and the snail idiot—Francis—trying to reassure him of Lovino's love for him, causing the 15-year-old to scoff. Gilbert's cackling voice, probably shared with a gleeful, amused expression with a gleam in his scarlet eyes, overpowered them both. "He's probably just in another one of his moods, Feli. You know how he is. Oi, Toni. Get me another beer." Lovino heard his father's feet padding across the kitchen floor. "Nothing to worry about." A can was heard popping open. He was going to be wasted, Lovino thought with a smirk.

Technically, Lovino and Feliciano were expected by Antonio to call his friends Uncle Gil and Uncle Franny, names that had caught on easily with the cheery Feliciano, but Lovino refused to call Francis such an endearing term, and Gilbert was only called Uncle when he wanted something, and Gil when Lovino slipped, or again, wanted something.

He could hear Feliciano ask if he could have a sip of Antonio's wine, and while both Gilbert and Francis seemed adamant that a twelve-year-old could have a sip of wine, Antonio just said no. Lovino pictured his slight frown of disappointment that never lasted long. Sure enough, he could hear his sigh that stated that the time for disapproval was over and he was dismissing the person's lack of judgement.

Lovino glanced at the clock. It was 9 PM. Francis would be over until 11 PM until he would then go out to find a nice pair of legs to fuck. 2 hours. Dammit. He didn't want to do his homework, and a nap wasn't an option, even though the boy had found sleep to be a nice option right about then. He was lazy like that.

Fuck. He sighed. Might as well make his way down the steps. Stay down there until Feliciano went to bed at the same time Francis left. Hopefully. The boy only had a bedtime when it was a school night, assuming he went to bed before midnight. After then, Antonio would scold him. Lovino had a bit more leniency given the fact that the 15-year-old was attending secondary school. He needed the extra hours to stay up, though he only used them on Friday nights, and occasionally Saturdays if he had too much homework or if his visitor came around throwing rocks. Much like he would be doing in a few hours.

He debated the issue. Go downstairs to kill time, possibly go steal some drinks of wine, as he had gotten the privilege to do so now, though of course Francis and Gilbert had long since before that snuck him some of theirs, much like how they were likely waiting now for Antonio to turn his back so that one of them could relieve Feliciano of his… whatever made him want a drink. Lovino could care less.

Even with that in mind, the two men would never let Feliciano get drunk. He wasn't allowed more than a few sips of either wine or beer. Lovino, by Antonio's context, was allowed some wine from only Antonio's glass, technically. And only a few sips. By Francis, about three shots of wine. By Gil's, about a can and a half of beer, but no more. Gilbert had always been much more liberal about underage drinking than the other two. Though interestingly enough, Francis and his wife Elizabeth never let their 16-year-old daughter Madeline drink or even their 19-year-old son Alfred when he came to visit, period. And the drinking age was 18! Just because Alfred was going to university in America where they were lame didn't change that. Hypocrites. Francis let Lovino and Feliciano drink. Elizabeth drank more rum than Lovino ate tomatoes. How ridiculous. Ha. Lovino couldn't help but wonder what the British woman would think when she learned that her lover was cheating on her with many others. Maybe they had an open relationship. It wasn't Lovino's business. Still, what a mess the Bonnefoy-Kirkland household was.

Gilbert lived alone. Out of the three males, he was the youngest, only 28, compared to Antonio's 33 and Francis at 39. It was an odd relationship for three people of such different ages. Lovino decided not to think about how his father's only sense of enjoyment besides himself and Feliciano were two men about 5 years either his senior or junior. He had long denied himself the privilege of questioning the man's actions. He was just strange and friendly.

Still, it wasn't work, and probably not university where had they had met. Definitely not school. Probably the bar, but that wouldn't make sense. Would it? Gilbert had been in his life since he was a kid. If he had met the other two in the bar then Lovino, who would have had to be at least five, would have had to have been old enough to remember when they were introduced, logically. He would remember it, right? The Italian had wondered about this often, though he was afraid to ask.

He eventually did make it downstairs. Feliciano clung to him as soon as he saw him and Lovino had to hide his scowl before he was scolded for not looking happier, or teased. Or something. Gilbert pat the spot next to him. The German was sitting in a chair, but it was big enough that both of their skinny asses could fit in it. Antonio narrowed his eyes and Feliciano, who looked like he had been about to offer to go to his room for "sibling bonding time" or some shit like that gave a small, sad frown, eyes starting to fill with tears.

Lovino pretended not to notice as he took the spot that had been offered to him. Francis looked at the two curiously but turned away, deciding to pretend not to be interested. Lovino huffed. A hand came up to rub subtly at his back and he leaned warningly against it. Gilbert smirked at him and started rubbing circles. Gilbert pulled back and moved to grab his drink. He handed it over to Lovino with a grin.

"Taste like potato shit." Lovino snapped, wrinkling his nose and shoving at the drink to push it away from him. Oddly, this behaviour just made Gilbert smile and shrug.

"Whatever, Lovi." He said, placing the drink in his hands anyway.

"Gil." Antonio said sternly.

"Oh, right." He smiled sheepishly. "Kid's only allowed to drink after you. My awesome self must have forgotten." He didn't look that sorry. Francis picked up his glass of wine and Lovino suspected that he had done so to hide his mirthful expression from Antonio.

After about thirty minutes of this, along with some sips of wine, Lovino feigned exhaustion and leaned up against his shoulder. Gilbert chuckled. Antonio's glower darkened. Lovino started fake snoring. Gilbert glanced up and nodded at Francis and jerked his head to Feliciano who was yawning slightly. "C'mon. Lazy kids are clearly exhausted. Don't want to keep them up with our talking, ja?"

The other chuckled. "It is your loud voice that would be keeping them up,mon ami." Antonio ignored his friend's banter as he reached out to pick Lovino up. The boy tensed, but remembered that he couldn't exactly call his father a "rotten perverted good for nothing tomato bastard" without hinting that he was awake. He instead made his movements seem unconscious, slowly snuggling against the warmth. Antonio smiled. Lovino could see it vaguely through his eyes, open just enough that it was not obvious that they were so.

Antonio carried him up the steps. He could hear Feliciano's quiet tread following, his little brother probably retiring early seeing as Lovino was. No reason being up if no one was to be up for you to mess with.

He could hear the sounds of the front door opening. The other two were probably leaving now. Lovino really didn't feel all that bad for breaking up their bonding time. He did it a lot when he was bored and tired of waiting around for those two to leave. Could anyone who knew about his nightly visitor really blame him? Lovino hated waiting for the idiot to move his car so it looked like he had gone home, come back, throw rocks at his window like some kind of pathetic modern day Romeo. By the time he did all of that without Lovino's interference it was almost midnight typically.

Lovino felt his back press against his bed, soft lips touch the top of his head. He turned his head into the pillow, pretending to be asleep. "Good night, Lovi." Antonio said softly.

After he walked off, the fifteen-year-old through the blanket off of his body and walked to his desk. On the math sheet that had been his intended focus the only evidence that he actually attempted it was the words on the top. Name: Lovino Fernandez Vargas. Less than he'd thought he'd had done. Oh well. He had Saturday and Sunday after church.

It was 10:17 on the dot when he heard the tell-tale clink on his glass window. He pushed it up and like normal snapped, "Are you crazy, potato head! My Papa will hear you, you stupid ass!"

A grin was given to him. The words that fell from the man's mouth suggested that he wasn't exactly listening to him. "Ha, you just couldn't wait to see me alone, could you. Had to make me end my bonding time."

"Can it, Gil. If you cared you would make your buddies and you go to your place where there's no tired teenagers."

"But then I'd have to clean up after those dummkopfs." He said with a pout. "Your father makes a big mess and Franny too."

"You sound like your asshole brother. Leave me alone."

"Where did you think Luddy got it?" Gilbert laughed good-naturedly. Idiot.

He moved back from the window, letting the moron in. Gilbert grinned and climbed up the tree outside of his room. He grabbed the window and swung in. It was the same as every other week more or less.

Lovino loved it.

Gilbert smiled at him once he had gotten in. "Cute." He said to him.

"I am not. Shut up!"

Gilbert chuckled and sat down on Lovino's bed. He leaned back, throwing his arms behind his head so that he could watch him with an amused smirk in a casual position. "Are right now, Prinzessin."

"Don't call me princess, you bastard!" He snapped, his face red.

"But you love it." Gilbert said, running a pale finger under Lovino's chin to force him to look up. He pecked his lips chastely. "Don't you."

Lovino huffed but he did not deny this fact. It was true, but that didn't make the term any less demeaning.

"And you love me, so I get to call you whatever I want, liebe, and you wouldn't ever really care." He said with a teasing look. Lovino blushed and pouted at him. Lovino was terrified of admitting that he actually did. What if Gilbert laughed at him or pushed him away? More likely or not, he was playing on Lovino's supposed naïveté, using him for sex, something. Maybe he liked the knowledge that under the recent laws that upped the age of consent in Spain to 16 that he was doing something illegal. Maybe he'd dump him come his birthday. Maybe it was just a fantasy that Gilbert had, the allure of an overprotective widower's son who he was entrusted as an "uncle" too.

Lovino had no real uncles. Antonio did have a Portuguese cousin that they weren't on friendly terms with, and Romana had a half-sister, Feliciana, who Feliciano was named after. Of course Antonio would turn to his two most trusted buddies as Uncles. And Gilbert was definitely breaking that trust.

Antonio would kick his ass when he caught him, curse him out in Spanish for corrupting his innocent child.

Lovino sighed, laying on the bed. Gilbert pressed a soft kiss on Lovino's ear softly. He shivered. Gilbert chuckled against him, pulling him against his body. He applied a few more kisses along his neck and collarbone. "So adorable." Gilbert muttered with a happy sigh.

"Whatever." Gilbert kissed his lips to shush him. A tongue rolled around them in a circular motion. Lovino gasped, opening his mouth to give him access. Gilbert explored his mouth, taking his time before pulling off. One of his hands grabbed at Lovino's shirt, forcing it up. Lovino helped him take it off the rest of the way. Lovino groaned . He pulled at Gilbert's shirt in earnest. "Off," he moaned bossily into his mouth.

"Patience, liebling." Gilbert said, pausing. He waited until they heard the faint sound of Antonio's feet padding to the door of his bedroom. Only when he heard the door creak and then gently slam shut did he throw off his own shirt. Lovino had enough self- preservation to know to stay completely still until then. The younger, now having what he wanted, ran his hands up the German's torso, earning a low moan.

Gilbert lazily brought his hands to the teenager's zipper, pulling it down as slowly as he could, prompting a growl from his young lover. Lovino wasn't worried about Antonio. Antonio was a heavy sleeper and hell to wake up. Feliciano on the other hand…

To be fair, Lovino knew that they could easily do this in the comfort of Gilbert's home. He was his "uncle" after all. Isn't it natural to want to spend time with family, even if they were only technically close family friends? Antonio probably wouldn't be suspicious. He could be fairly dense at times. He'd just think that Lovino was bonding.

So why all the secrecy? Why risk being caught? Maybe it was a thrill, knowing that they were doing something illegal, something that Antonio would be murderous if he found out about, probably be one of those parents who dragged his son to counselling because he was a "victim" even if the only victim he was of was being too young according to the eyes of others to know what he wanted.

Gilbert ran gentle fingers down the boy's thigh, pulling him onto his lap. The button on Lovino's pants became undone, and he squirmed a bit to push them off more. "Careful, schatz." He murmured. "Don't strain yourself." The boxers came off next.

That was the one thing that had surprised Lovino about Gilbert, when the two had first started this odd tryst a few months back, when he was still fourteen; New Year's Eve. Even when drunk or when he was in the mood for what Lovino would call "German dungeon porn shit" though it had nothing to with any German dungeons, he always called him as many pet names as he could think of.

Lovino had felt sick at the time. Mostly because they had all been in a hotel to celebrate the holiday together, and Gilbert's hotel room with a drunk man who almost forgot to prepare him was not what he had in mind for the day he lost his virginity. Gilbert had spent all of January—even his own birthday—secluded from Antonio. He refused to look any of his family in the eye, tense the whole time they were around, almost ashamed. It wasn't until Valentine's Day when the German—completely sober this time—had done anything with him again.

Now though, this was happening once a week. Usually they had sex, or just some heavy petting, but once in a while they would spend their Friday just cuddling each other, Lovino's head tucked under Gilbert's chin. Those were the best nights, the times that he could pretend that the older was in love with him too.

His attention wasn't on any of that wishful thinking now, just getting release, getting anything to send him out of his current lustful haze. Gilbert had his member in his hand, stroking it gently. Lovino whimpered wantonly, bucking into him. Gilbert gave him a playful bite on the shoulder in retaliation. "Hush, süßer." Gilbert muttered. "Don't want your vati to hear your moans, do we?" He murmured, licking the tip lewdly, earning a mewl anyway. Gilbert didn't seem to mind, humming as he slid off his own boxers. He knew as well as Lovino did that Antonio wouldn't wake up.

However… "Lock the door." Lovino breathed out. "I haven't." Gilbert did as he said, not wanting to leave very long. He was horny. He wanted it right then, but he did not want Feliciano coming in for a "slumber party."

Lovino brought his hands up to Gilbert's white hair, feeling the softness. Gilbert moaned, leaning back up to kiss him again as he reached for the lube that Lovino kept here, hoping that they had some left. Soon, he found it with a sigh of relief and squirted a generous amount out onto his hand.

He reached down to push one finger into the teenager's hole. Lovino groaned in discomfort. Gilbert started to stretch him, letting his second follow. He curled his fingers just so, gaining a moan and a "dammit, Gil!" Gilbert chuckled, soon adding a third. He moved his fingers around, hitting Lovino's prostate with routine expertise. He smirked when Lovino let out a pleasured moan, bucking up against him.

Gilbert slicked up his member and lined himself up with Lovino's entrance. He shoved the tip in gently, easing into him. Once he was fully sheathed into the tight, hot space he stayed still. Lovino felt a hand come up to find his curl, the other on his hip, gripping him roughly.

"Move, dammit! I'm not a doll!" Lovino snapped, grinding against him to get something, anything. Gilbert chuckled darkly, starting up a rough and fast pace.

It didn't last long this time. Neither were in the mood for gentle or savouring. They came together in mere minutes, bodies intertwined into one.

Lovino leaned back against the bed, sweat covering his olive toned skin. He looked over at Gilbert as he collapsed next to him. Gilbert usually stuck around long enough to regain his bearings, but the whole night was risky so he never stayed too long.

The younger looked over at him. His sheets would need to be washed, preferably without Antonio seeing a thing because there were only so many "wet dreams" and "accidents" that a seemingly embarrassed fifteen-year-old could have before someone got suspicious. However, at that moment, Lovino cared only for the man across from him. Gilbert gave him a smile and a kiss on the cheek, but it didn't lessen his nerve.

Here goes nothing.

Lovino spoke, voice weak. "I—"

"Hmm."

"I love you..." He muttered.

Gilbert was quiet, an eyebrow raised. "You do?"

Lovino turned away. He was going to laugh at him and call him a gullible naïve princess now, wasn't he? Just as he thought that, an arm pulled him against a warm, nude body and he squirmed. "Love you too schnucki." Gilbert mumbled into his ear, licking it gently.

"Stay the night?" Lovino asked.

Gilbert hesitated. "As much as the awesome me would want to, you know why I can't." Lovino sighed, having expected that. Stupid, he cursed himself. The German reached up to tousle his hair slightly. "Kuschelbär." He mumbled, cuddling him more with a muffled chuckle.

"I'm not your damn 'cuddle bear.' Shut up." He huffed. Lovino relaxed into the embrace anyway.

"For someone so against my language you sure do understand it pretty awesomely." Lovino knew that Gilbert had expected that pillow to hit him upon following Lovino's flustered stammering.

"You're right. You're still a princess to me. Maybe I'll just stick with Prinzessin. It fits you."

"Shut up before I beat your ass."

"Can do more than just beat it." Gilbert suggested with a smirk.

"Will it keep you here all night?"

"Haven't bottomed in a while. So maybe it will. Maybe I'll be too sore to go home tomorrow so I'll just hide out in here all day."

"Don't think your bird would like that." Lovino replied.

"Gilbird would understand," he insisted.

"Will he now?" Lovino said.

He was never going to get that maths done. Oh fuck it. That's not important.