Daughter Of The Revolution: Well, I thought of an AmerIta the other day at work and thought of you, irascendedlolkitten. So here's a fun little surprise giftfic for ya 'cause I can. Enjoy, bud!
Naval Captain Alfred F. Jones smiled when the ships finally pulled into port. Now he wanted to join the Navy because he wanted to serve his country and after being born in a beach house in California he's always felt at home with the ocean—but still, there was no greater feeling than coming home to happy-to-see-you loved ones. It wasn't long after the sailors were formally dismissed that they bound for the docks and embraced their wives, parents, brothers and sisters, and their children.
The crowd was always bigger back in the States because not all of the sailors' families moved to Italy where they could remain stationed permanently until they've served, or, like many, could move to another base around the world. But it was a pleasantry for the officers who did have family to come greet them. It brought them back down to earth after so long spent at sea.
Alfred's been to about every American naval base across the globe. He's made friends with various different nationalities as well as a multitude of high-ranking Admirals. Captain Jones was well liked and so often promoted.
Some of his favorite bases had to be in the States because the U.S. is where his heart belonged. But even so, among all of those, their Italian base was definitely worth regular visits. Not because the base was spiffier or the crew nicer or he had more friends stationed there. No, there was one thing that made Alfred's heart beat hard and fast when pulling into the old nation.
The American made his way around the smooching couples and cuddling families toward the crating area. The workers had yet to unload the ship's cargo so it was quiet except for the familiar sound of legs tapping against metal in swing and the hum of a pleasant voice.
Alfred took off his cap and smiled as he approached the waiting Italian. When he came into view those amber eyes wandering around the docking area locked onto his form and once recognition registered the redheaded Italian was grinning so wide it'd shame the brightness of the sun.
Quickly, said Italian hopped off of the crate and dashed toward the officer with wide open arms.
"Alfred!" he exclaimed out in glee and then he was in the American's arms giving Alfred the reason why he preferred this base above all others.
Alfred smiled just as big, just as bright as he tightened the embrace and swung the Italian around. When he felt those talented hands cup his face and urge him to lean down Alfred followed their pull obediently and his reward was one hell of a welcome-home kiss. It would be nice if Alfred didn't have to greet his lover like this but this kind of relationship wasn't too politely looked on in Italy. Alfred never liked hiding anything, especially that which he adored but he did this for the sake of his lover and out of respect for the country with which said Italian lived in.
When the kiss was pulled apart and the Italian placed on his feet again he looked up at Alfred and frowned; a complete contrast from less than a second ago.
"I thought you'd never return," the Italian said. His accent was so cute.
Alfred rolled his eyes. Every time. Every time he came back to this base he'd get the same teary-eyed dramatic assumption. When was the poor Italian going to learn Alfred was always coming back?
Well, Alfred really couldn't blame the guy for thinking like that. The redhead's had previous lovers who've all left him to fend for himself in a society so unaccepting of his kind. Not Alfred though. If people wanted to dislike them then Alfred would stand tall next to his lover, encouraging him to walk just as tall.
"Well, you were wrong—again," Alfred replied to the Italian's sad assumption. "When are you going to learn I'm good on my word, Feliciano?"
There was a few more seconds of that horrid frown before the Italian nodded in understanding and finally smiled again.
"Now, your lover's been gone at sea for nine months. Why don't you make him feel welcomed home?" Alfred spread his arms in encouragement and closed his eyes, puckering his lips in anxious wait.
"Si! Come this way!" The America had expected—no, had wanted—another kiss like their first greeting but instead found himself grabbed by the sleeve of his uniform jacket and tugged along.
He'd been taken back to Feliciano's house. It was a small thing, but cozy. Alfred practically lived there so he had his own dresser with the drawers packed with his clothing, a razor and toothbrush in the bathroom, and suits hung up in the closet next to Feliciano's nicer attire. Two bedroom house or whatever it was still nicer than the rooms the Navy gave out.
It seemed Alfred had caught the Italian in the middle of some spring cleaning by the look of the dusters and rags and buckets of soapy water lying around. Didn't look like he'd finished. Fine by Alfred. He enjoyed having something to do around the home besides heading into the office every day.
It made Alfred smile just watching Feliciano run around in the kitchen, taking things out of the refrigerator, pulling out pots and pans from the cabinets, and flicking the gas stove on. He was getting ready to cook dinner and, knowing him, it'd be delicious.
Alfred had first met Feliciano during his first stay in Italy. The Italian had been the guide to the tour Alfred had paid for on one of his days off from work. The man knew his history as well as a ton of folk legends.
Alfred had loved the tour so much he tipped the Italian a whopping $100. Well, Feliciano had been so enthusiastic and overly excited about it that he had slung his arm around Alfred's neck and pulled him down for an appreciative big, wet kiss. Afterwards Feliciano assured Alfred that the kiss was just a form of thanks in Italy. Uh-huh, sure.
That day had been full of surprises. At the end of the day when Alfred's camera could take no more pictures he became hungry. Hey, he was in Italy, Italian cuisine all the way!
So, Alfred found himself in a family restaurant. After asking around the city everyone pointed him to that tiny place. Despite its size it was packed. Alfred wouldn't have gotten a seat at all hadn't someone called in and canceled their reservation right when Alfred asked for a table. Needless to say he was surprised by the mass of people at the small restaurant and more so at the waiter.
"Oh! Mr. Vargas, you work here too?" Alfred couldn't believe the Italian also worked at the restaurant, assuming he just toured all day and night.
"Si, my nonno owns this store and has his family handle it. I wait and I cook here," the chirpy Italian informed with that bright—and somewhat dimwitted—smile of his.
"Really, well, is it too late to ask for one of your home-made pizzas?"
"Of course not," Feliciano said. "I'll make you a pizza to die for!"
So Feliciano had cooked with a mission and had absolutely the right to gloat about his cooking skills. Alfred had LOVED that pizza, so much so that he became a regular; coming to the family-run restaurant literally every day.
That was how the two got to know each other, and that was how Alfred got to know Feliciano's older brother, Lovino. A couple of days the restaurant had been so busy Feliciano had been stuck in the back cooking none stop and so Lovino waited in his stead. Yeah . . . that guy had some serious anger issues. Alfred was surprised they were even related.
But, other than that, Alfred had enjoyed his stay. When he had been called out to sea he had been surprised to see Feliciano come running up to him just as he readied to board.
"You're leaving, Alfred?" The Italian's eyes widened at the military uniform draped about him. "You . . . you're an American officer?"
"Yep, and the sea calls," Alfred said as he flicked his head back toward the ships receiving their sailors.
Then Alfred witnessed for the first time as sweet little Feliciano got mad. It was so uncharacteristic of the Italian that Alfred gawked at the sight like a damn noob.
"Shame on you for making me think you had moved here!" Feliciano complained. "Now who am I gonna serve two large pizzas with feta, provolone, mozzarella, spicy pepperoni, sausage, peppers, and anchovies to every day?"
The Italian was actually about to cry.
"Hey, hey, this happens," Alfred said as he grabbed the distraught Italian by the shoulders to steady him. "It's my duty."
"Then I won't see you again?" Feliciano asked, his amber eyes glistening with tears.
"That's not necessarily true," Alfred replied. "We have tons of bases around the world. I'm certain the top'll put me here again one day."
"But when will you come back?" Feliciano wasn't stupid. He knew it could take years before Alfred returned to the American naval base in Italy.
Alfred sighed. He couldn't help but smile at the Italian's affection for him. It was sweet, it really was.
"Tell ya what." That's it, Feliciano perked up, looking at him with hope. "I promise to personally make sure to get stationed here again soon if you give me a kiss."
Alfred had said it to tease because he wanted to see Feliciano flustered—if he ever got it. But while he tapped his cheek with a wink it was the American who had been caught off guard by the Italian cupping his face and pulling him down to connect their lips. When Feliciano pulled away Alfred stood there dazed. He was hoping no one saw that because he didn't need the guys to tease his reddening face.
"Was that good enough for you to come back real soon?" Feliciano asked the dazed American.
Oh, it was.
Alfred returned to the American base in Italy ten months later. It was fun to surprise Feliciano who hadn't known when he returned as he sat at the Vargas' restaurant and ordered his usual. Feliciano hadn't been waiting that night; it was too busy for him to leave the stove but the moment Lovino gave him that unique order that had become Alfred's "usual" the redheaded Italian had been out of that kitchen in seconds. He had still been holding his mixing spatula doused in tomato sauce as he tackled Alfred over his table and out of his chair.
Alfred had never gotten his pizza that night because Feliciano abruptly told his family he was taking off early and then proceeded to leave with the American. It was an amazing night. Feliciano had taken him through the city and the two talked, Feliciano inquiring all that had happened to Alfred while he was away. Nothing much, but Alfred offered him some stories. Then he asked the Italian and did he talk his ears off.
It was nice though.
The two had wound up at some empty ruins. The place on the hill had a great view of the entire city. And that was where Feliciano inconspicuously asked Alfred out.
"I am so happy that you're back, I really am," Feliciano said as he leaned his elbows on the railing near the ruins, his eyes gazing out at the lit city before them.
There was a soft smile on his lips and now that there was more quiet being away from the hustle and bustle of the city Alfred swore he could hear the tenderness in the Italian's tone of voice.
"I was very sad when you left. I thought I would get better, but I didn't. I even fell ill one time and nonno had to call in a priest to ward away ailing spirits. It was harder than I thought and the days passed by so slowly."
Alfred was looking at the Italian dumbfounded after hearing his confession of what personally had transpired while he was away. It was so unreal and, dare Alfred say he felt a little guilty. Had his departure really made this sweet, fun-loving Italian get sick?
Feliciano continued, "I like you a lot, Alfred. I mean, I like a lot of people, but I like you more."
Then, he said it just as an ocean breeze brushed past them that spring's night.
"If you were gay I'd ask you out."
Alfred's heart skipped a beat. Wait, did that mean that Feliciano . . .
"A-Aren't you Catholic?" Alfred asked.
Feliciano finally looked at him. He nodded his head slowly before glancing away with a shrug. "Si, but I am too afraid to tell the family about my sexual orientation. The Church doesn't like it."
Alfred smiled and shook his head. "Well, don't be afraid to be yourself around me 'cause I'm gay too."
Feliciano's eyes had been the widest Alfred had ever seen. Had he really not expected Alfred to be gay too? Did he really think he'd kissed a straight man all this time?
"Really?" The Italian looked taken aback by surprise for a moment but it soon faded as he firmed his stance and hardened his gaze with determination, something Alfred found himself quite attracted to. "Then will you got out with me, Alfred F. Jones?"
It made Alfred chuckle because it was funny. Alfred was always the outgoing one; Mr. Extrovert, and so would no doubt initiate the proposal for a relationship. Feliciano? He was always bubbly, yes, but seemed too timid to spout out something like this. But he had asked first and Alfred's never seen him stand so sure for something as long as he's known him. So, kudos to Mr. Vargas.
"Yeah," Alfred answered with a warm smile, his heart melted inside at seeing that bright smile he undoubtedly loved. "Yeah, I think I will."
"Meraviglioso!" Feliciano exclaimed as he threw his arms around the American. "I'm really, really happy now, Alfred."
"Me too, Feli," Alfred replied as he embraced the Italian just as tight.
Alfred knew some fellas who had gotten screwed over by foreigners; horrible stories, each one of them. Because of so Alfred decided to steer clear of long-distance relationships, but Feliciano really was something else entirely.
He didn't care that Alfred was an American with the possible key to privileged citizenship. Feliciano treated him like a fellow countryman if anything else. In fact, the one thing Alfred felt Feliciano hated about him was that he was American. For too many times he'd be kissing him goodbye as a tour called him away. Alfred hated the depressed faces Feliciano would have when he pulled away back to board his ship. Then, whenever he returned he'd find the Italian to have gotten sick.
It was about a year later until a French friend of Feliciano's informed him that it was love sickness. That same year both confessed their love for one another and Alfred moved into Feliciano's house. Out of all Alfred's lovers Feliciano was definitely the best; he could cook, he could dry clean, he was tidy, he was hardworking, he never dulled, and he was amazing in bed.
Alfred thought he had some outstanding libido. No, no that was nothing compared to his Italian lover. Feliciano was "Italian" enough said. Never once left Alfred unsatisfied.
They had been dating for four years now and still Feliciano never got old. That was why Alfred loved him.
"So, what are the plans for this evening?" Alfred asked as he watched Feliciano fix their plates full of delicious spaghetti and set them on the table.
"I hope you don't have anything much planned with your comrades tonight," Feliciano began as he sat himself down at the two-seater table. "Because I arranged for a boat ride to Sicily. You've never been there and I have family there who will house us for the stay."
That sounded awesome, it really did and Alfred could feel his adventurous spirit aching to be let loose and explore the new sights awaiting him, but he had to let Feliciano know something very important.
Putting down his fork, Alfred wiped his mouth. "That's nice and all, but I do have something coming up this evening."
Alfred hated seeing that sad and disappointed look on Feliciano's face, but he hoped this news would cheer him up.
"O-Oh," Feliciano said. "It's that important?"
"Yeah, it is," Alfred informed with a sure nod.
There was a silence following and Alfred watched the Italian finally put his silverware down. He was upset, Alfred could see it, but he was always understanding even when he shouldn't be.
"I got promoted," Alfred finally said.
The Italian offered him his best smile but the upset over the ruined evening was still quite prominent in his features.
"They're moving me to a desk," Alfred informed.
Feliciano knew what that meant. It meant Alfred was saying goodbye . . . forever. He had no more orders to stay in Italy.
A frown fell into place just as Alfred had predicted. Now Feliciano looked utterly heartbroken.
"You accepted it?" the Italian asked as he looked at Alfred, his eyes begging him to tell him he had lied, to tell him he was "joking around."
"I did," Alfred answered truthfully.
"But why?" Alfred could hear the tremble in Feliciano's voice and see the tears in his eyes about to fall. "Do you not like it here anymore?"
"Nah, this place is great, but I miss the States," Alfred said hoping the Italian would understand.
"What about me?" Feliciano sniffed, tears already rolling down his cheeks. "You miss Americans too much?"
Alfred sighed. He got out of his chair and kneeled before the weeping redhead and patted his knees.
"Come on, Feli, don't be like that," Alfred begged. "I thought you'd be happy for me."
"Si, sure," Feliciano sniffled, turning his red eyes away from the American. He even pushed his hand off of his knees and scooted away so he wouldn't touch him. Definitely upset.
Alfred sighed. "I don't want to leave you, Feli, you of all people should know that."
"But you are," Feliciano whined out. "You could have declined."
"Yeah, I suppose I could have," Alfred agreed. "But I think it's time for me to stay in one place and settle down with my cute little Italian bride."
Alfred watched Feliciano freeze. When he turned to him he looked confused, but those amber eyes of his widened upon seeing what Alfred was holding in his hands.
A small velvet box with a silver—because Feliciano preferred that precious metal over gold—ring with the Italian's name engraved on it.
Feliciano's lips opened but no words came out.
"What do you say?" Alfred was smiling that million-dollar smile again as he watched the upset fade completely in Feliciano. "Will you do me the honor in becoming my husband and moving to the U.S. with me?"
Feliciano smiled, it was so big that it instantly dried up every tear in his glistening eyes. He nodded his head quickly and bounced in his seat in enthusiastic excitement. "I'm gonna be an American!" he cheered as he threw his arms around Alfred, pushing them both to the floor in the tackle.
Man were Alfred's friends jealous when he brought his Italian bride back home. While they continued to shiver in trauma over their ruined foreign relationships Alfred only gloated that he had happened upon the redhead by chance and as the fates had it he was the one in a million you could do nothing else than take home.