Characters: Alfred/United States – Francis/France- Antonio/Spain – Gilbert/Prussia – Feliciano/North Italy- Ludwig/Germany – Belle/Belgium – And of course Arthur/England – Lovino/South Italy.

Note: Most of this story came to life while listening to the song quoted. There'll be fights, misunderstandings. Lovino with his potty mouth, Arthur being impatient… and all what that means.

Even if this is an AU I'm taking some historic facts and Hetalia facts to recreate the characters. The first one, is that Spain, France and England were enemies in the past but in the present they get along very well. Second: Spain is the actual world champion in football/soccer so he is the best at it.

Thanks to Blood Dark Sun for helping me with this so patiently. And thanks to the complicated people in my life for bringing me inspiration.

Mensaje en Español: Escribí esto en inglés y aviso que por nada del mundo lo voy a traducir porque este fic fue pensado en inglés, y se perdería mucho con la traducción. Eso, igual si pueden leerlo y les gusta háganmelo saber en español, no es necesario comentar en inglés.

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Ouroboros

The sea's evaporated, though it comes as no surprise
These clouds we're seeing,
they're explosions in the sky
It seems it's written, but we can't read between the lines
Hush, it's okay, dry your eye(…)
Soulmate dry your eye,
'cause soulmates never die

(Placebo- Soulmates)

000

Six months can be a lifetime.

Arthur barely remembers having a life before and after those six months. That time is still repeating in his head, in his wounds; all over again. It had been almost two months since they stopped seeing each other and the pain was still there just as the first day. Arthur was starting to think that it will become a chronic disease.

He tried to organize his life like nothing had happened; he wanted all conflict out of his life so he decided to pretend that Lovino didn't exist. Once he broke up with him, he erased his phone number, his mail address, erased his photographs and messages from his laptop and cell phone. He erased everything that had to do with his ex and even more. He asked his friends... No. He forbade his friends to even mention the name or anything that had to do with Lovino. Not that he hated him. It was just that even the smallest mention of him was like throwing acid into his wound.

It wasn't an easy task to get the boy away from him. Lovino was stubborn; when he was after something he pursued until he got what he wanted. And Lovino just wanted a second chance or even an explanation of what happened; what made Arthur take such a drastic decision.

At the beginning, Arthur decided to ignore the phone ringing; it was hard, but he made it. However, it was even harder to ignore the texts. He read them one night when he felt too nostalgic and pathetic and - while reading them - he could imagine the tone, the look in Lovino's eyes, like he was just in front of him asking for an explanation.

-Please, will I ever know what did I do to you to make you react like this?-

-What happened to us? It was going so well. I didn't see it coming. Can you tell me what can I do to make it up?-

-Are you aware that I never wanted to hurt you? But yet, you hurt me so much-

-I know what are you doing. We have people in common, you know? You can't just ask them to pretend that I don't exist in front of you. Is so childish, who's the kid now?-

-You are not the only victim here-

At this point, Arthur was so unstable that he did the only sane thing that crossed his mind. He threw his phone out of the room and hid in his bed.

And that's when the contradictory feelings assaulted his mind. He hated him... he missed him... he loved him... he despised him. He wanted that little torturer out of his life, death if it was possible.

He wanted Lovino back, but that feeling was the main traitor inside of him.

000

Arthur Kirkland is a journalist; he's a columnist at one of the most important newspapers in San Francisco. He is 27 – almost 28 – years old and he lives alone in a small apartment in Halloway on Brighton avenue. He has sandy blond hair, green eyes under his thick dark eyebrows. He is not taller than Francis but he has an athletic frame and he is quite strong. He loves to test his power getting into pub-fights every time he can, and Gilbert accompanies him.

He doesn't have a car. One of the reasons is because it means a responsibility he doesn't want to have. Two, because he likes to go to pubs with his colleagues and drink until oblivion. And finally because he doesn't like the idea of driving in that city with so many hills.

Arthur is a loner by nature but life has obligated him to frequent people like Antonio and Francis. They are old schoolmates. Well, not 'mates' exactly. In fact back then they hated each other. When he graduated from high school he thought he never would have to see those unwanted faces again, but life took over and he could not escape the presence of Francis.

Arthur is English by birth and his family moved to the United States when he was 12 years old. Francis was in the same situation. He is French and he lived in San Francisco since he was 10. Antonio, for his part, was born and raised in the US but his whole family was formed by Italians and Hispanic immigrants. Antonio likes to pretend he is an original macho-Latino to flirt with the ladies. He succeeded because he has a girlfriend, the beautiful Belle.

Arthur and Francis met again in college and became very close, somehow. Antonio has always been best friends with Francis and that caused his friendship with Arthur too. Antonio is very content with his moody uptight friend even if Arthur calls him names all the time and still likes to make fun of Francis. They are ok with the group dynamic; they are grown up men after all.

Antonio doesn't have college studies because all he wanted was to run a coffee shop. He succeeded with that too. The three friends usually meet in Antonio's cafeteria to talk and sometimes to work. Francis writes for a fashion magazine and Arthur writes his columns about various contingency topics and economy.

Sometimes Alfred, Arthur's younger brother, drops by after high school to annoy them. Antonio doesn't really mind because Alfred is just as noisy and cheery as he is. Arthur can barely stand them when they are in the same room.

Arthur always thinks that, after what he went through in high school and college, he'll never want to have nothing to do with a youngster. But life has planned to play against his will. Again.

000

Lovino Vargas is Antonio's cousin. He's a student of the Management school in San Francisco University. He is 20 years old. He's moody, antisocial and yet he is very lucky with women. He has a silky straight brown hair, hazel eyes and a natural tanned skin color. He is not taller than Tonio, but he has an athletic frame with defined muscles in his arms and stomach and the ladies seem to like that about him.

He lives with his parents, his brother, his uncles, aunts and grandpa in the same big house like the big Latin clan they are.

Lovino doesn't have a girlfriend because he has no patience and he doesn't want responsibilities, he likes to go out with one and another and fool around with many at the same time. He doesn't devote much time to study, but when he does he gets very good grades and makes his parents proud. Lovino doesn't make a big effort because he believes no matter what he does his younger brother will always be more appreciated than him in everything and doing whatever.

Lovino has a big and terrible pride and that's why he has such a hard time admitting that the sociology teacher doesn't like his papers and he could fail the course if he doesn't get assistance in his writing. Lovino is specially pissed off because he likes reading and he likes writing, and he thinks he is good at it even if that bastard with his big fat Ph.D. says the contrary. Even so, when Antonio tells him about his journalist friends and offers him to ask them for help, Lovino doesn't make resistance and agrees.

Lovino doesn't like to spend time with his older cousin because he thinks he is a ridiculous man, way too immature for being so old. Lovino doesn't want to have anything to do with Antonio and his elderly friends. But, of course, life would make him bite his own thoughts.

000

The first meeting occurred in Antonio's coffee shop. The Latin had invited Francis and Arthur to help Lovino with his writing. The student arrived ten minutes late, time enough for Arthur and Francis to find a silly reason to fight. The place was unusually full of young people. The "Dance Dance Revolution" machine Antonio bought to attract the public to his place has succeeded. As all the things Tonio wanted.

When both Latins approached to the table, both blonds remained in a sudden silence, staring at the young man who was next to Antonio. Arthur was almost drooling. Francis elbowed him under the table, chuckled in amusement and stood up to greet the newcomer.

"This is Lovino, my cousin, the one I told you about."

"I see the resemblance," Francis pointed out flirtatiously and added, "Francis Bonnefoy at your full service."

The so-called Lovino looked at him with disgust and said a dry "Hi" to both men. He sat in front of them, pulling out his laptop from his bag. The older men continued muttering insults to each other until the young student coughed to call their attention.

"So, the bast... Antonio told me you could help me with my assignment."

"Oh, that would be our pleasure," Francis said with a musical, masculine tone. Arthur elbowed him and gave him his worst and ugliest frown.

"Don't try to scare me with your caterpillar brows... you roast-beef."

"Do us a favor and die, frog."

"Can you help me? Really?" Lovino asked. He was desolate. If these were the genius writers that could save his year, then he was screwed.

"Of course we can; just tell us what you need," Arthur said with a serious tone, and for some reason Lovino thought he seemed reliable and started to explain.

"Well, this is a sociology course but it's focused in economical issues, so basically I have to discuss..."

At some point in the middle of the Lovino's saying, Francis lost his attention to Alfred who was dazzling everybody with his movements at the dance machine. Arthur was trying to explain to Lovino how to direct the subject towards the social consequences of economic systems. Lovino pulled his chair close to him to work together on his laptop, where Arthur underlined and indicated with notes those paragraphs that needed to be fixed.

"I can't even hear my own thoughts with all this noise!" Lovino growled, desperate.

"I'm as happy as you are with this, I must say," Arthur added, feeling especially upset when he saw that the major cause of all that scandal was his younger brother.

"Then go and ask Tonio the keys of his apartment to work there... I..." Francis said, sounding unsure but enthusiastic, "I'm going to teach these kids how to dance with class."

Arthur snorted some unfriendly comment that made reference to his advanced age, but agreed with the beardy frog. He stood up to ask Antonio for permission to work at his place and the Hispanic barista was so fascinated with all the young people around that he handed his keys to Arthur without even knowing what he was doing.

At the end of the day, when the store was already closed, Antonio patted all his pockets looking for his keys. He panicked when he realized that he didn't have them with him. He looked behind the bar and in every drawer.

"¡Dios mío!" He yelled.

Francis - rubbing his legs to relieve the pain from the extreme exercise done - said in a monotone, "Arthur said that he was going to ask for your keys to work in your apartment with that cute little cousin of yours."

"Really? He did?" Antonio asked, still fearful.

"Yeah! He did it!" Alfred yelled while putting the last chairs over the table. "I saw them go out with your huge key chain. Seriously dude, you're so clueless all the time."

Francis was about to add some acid response related to Alfred's own cluelessness, but decided to save it because he was sure the poor kid would not understand it anyways. They crossed the street that separated Antonio's shop from his apartment. The barista was still worried to find his place dismantled. He opened the door, nervous, but instead of Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves, in the living room just were Lovino and Arthur, drinking a cup of coffee and tea respectively. They were chatting so pertly, laughing and smiling like they never before had a reason to smile.

It's so weird to see them so cheery.

The impression was so that they thought they were standing in the twilight zone. But for Francis - the hopeless romantic of the group - that was only a harbinger of what he would consider one of the most intense romantic dramas he ever witnessed.

000

The second time Lovino saw Arthur he found him in Antonio's coffee shop, fighting again with the beardy bastard. He sat to wait patiently until they finished shooting each other colorful and elaborate insults, but his lack of patience always was one of his worst defects.

"Are you a couple?" Lovino asked, tired of their stupid cat-fight. "This is part of your foreplay or whatever?"

Francis snorted a laugh and Arthur looked horrified.

"Hell no!"

"We are even closer than that," Francis added archly and Arthur had to clear it up.

"He meant we are friends."

"Best friends, dear, don't try to downplay our relationship." Arthur rolled his eyes at his friend's saying, so the Frenchman went further, to his disgrace, "After all we've been through, who held you head while you vomited until the last drop of alcohol out of your piteous body? And that's how you pay me? You ungrateful dog..."

"OK! NEXT SUBJECT!" Arthur cried, too embarrassed to raise his eyes. Lovino didn't know what to think about the guy who helped him. He didn't care anyway if the man was a drunk or not. He just wanted to use his brains.

"Well, I came to ask you for help, again."

"How was your paper? Did you get an A?"

"Just a B+."

"Oh, but that's very good!" Arthur smiled to him. Francis noticed the brightness in his expression so he stood up and said, "I can see you don't need me anymore, see you later dearies, don't miss me too much."

Arthur showed him his middle finger and then put all his attention back to the young student.

That scene repeated several times in Antonio's shop, until Arthur suggested they could meet in the quietness of his own apartment. After two weeks of meeting there, Lovino started to ease his constraints, letting his real character emerge. When two months had passed since they first met, Lovino began to call him "Bastard." Arthur was a little surprised at the beginning but soon understood that it was a friendly way Lovino used to call him, so he got used to it.

At that point they had enough confidence to start their fighting.

The first time they did it, Lovino had just finished the reading of one of Arthur's articles. The journalist waited in his seat, enjoying his cup of tea that suddenly tasted horrible when he heard.

"I don't know why you write this simple shit if you are so smart when you speak."

"What do you mean by that?" Arthur asked. He didn't want to feel offended before listening to Lovino's reasons to say what he said.

"Because you make everything so obvious."

"That's because my job is to explain this subject to a general audience."

"So, that means your readers are stupid?"

"No, but they are not experts in economy, they are common people who need to understand this processes and the consequences they had in their daily lives."

"Common people? So what do you think you are? You are not part of the common people?"

"Of course I am, in certain aspects...by example, I don't know a thing about science and technology. In that field, Alfred is the genius."

"But... that would mean that I'm part of the common people because I don't know much about science or so many other things."

"It's not that... It depends of the context and the field of knowle-"

"I think you underestimate your readers," the student interrupted, "I think you insult them making everything so obvious. If I was you, I would make them do some mental exercise to guess part of the content and I would not give them all chewed and ready to swallow."

"This is a journalistic column, not a bloody puzzle. People doesn't have time to resolve puzzles."

"Again, you are underestimating them," Lovino snorted.

And that's how the discussions started. Sometimes, Lovino came to Arthur's apartment with a paper he was writing for one of his courses. He threw his draft over Arthur's desk and said "I need your revision before I send it to the world."

"Last time you said you didn't trust in my capacities as a writer…"

"Yes… but, no matter what I think, you are a journalist, you are 'the expert' in writing or not? Why wouldn't I take advantage of my older expert friend to get wise advice?"

Arthur sighed, tired, but ended up doing what the boy wanted. He always did. However, if he had the audacity to criticize a part of the text that wasn't so clear, Lovino would explode saying he was trying to make the reader think to join the pieces.

"People don't like puzzles all the time, Lovino."

Arthur said that once, or twice. But he didn't understand the real meaning of that statement until months later when he was licking his inner wounds like an old lonely dog.

000

That same scene repeated uncountable times and Arthur's response started to be less and less sincere, just for the sake of peace, silence… and for his own sake. Lovino noticed, for he was starting to know very well his cousin's friend. Even more, he was starting to think that Arthur was something complicated, fascinating; someone hard to carry on with. Someone like himself.

Of course, Lovino wasn't gay and this whole case of being attracted to a guy bothered him. A lot. But it wasn't that he liked men. It was Arthur with his beautiful eyes, his pale skin, his elegant voice and his accent. Arthur that was so intelligent and so handsome. It was rare to find that combination in a woman, and even more, to find a woman who made him feel like he was not alone in the world. That after all, there was someone who could understand his way of being.

Then he started to have the idea that – if all the cheesy nonsense the French bastard liked to talk about were true – Arthur had to be his counterpart and other half. Of course Lovino was willing to take every part of what It meant to be with someone as complicated as he was: the misunderstandings, the long discussions, the sudden rage, the heat, the refreshing heat… because he was Latin and it was like 'his thing' to be constantly heated. But Arthur wasn't.

000

Lovino was so young.

Sometimes – maybe too often - Arthur forgot that detail and believed he was talking with an equal. Is not that he considered that Lovino was inferior, but the age gap sometimes was too evident.

Lovino was so Latin too.

That was something Arthur couldn't ignore easily. Even if he was – sadly – used to Antonio and his overwhelming displays of affection. But when Antonio touched him, hugged him, kissed his cheek or grabbed a part of his body just to piss him off, Arthur didn't feel the same wave of confusing – and above all inappropriate – feelings he had when Lovino touched him. And Lovino merely touched, as his personality wasn't that cheery as Antonio's, but when he did he summoned a storm in the older man.

Lovino sometimes approached his chair to him and put a hand on his shoulder, sometimes he punched his arm friendly. Sometimes he laid a hand on his waist while they were in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil. But the kettle could take ages to finish its sodding job and Arthur was already on fire.

He is Antonio's little cousin… he said to himself, the wee cousin of one of my few friends… when I was in university he was still in the middle school… such a child… with such big hazel eyes… such a tanned skin, his dark hair… so soft… he is so moody… such an arsehole the whole time… how I would like to shut for once that feisty little mouth of his… And then, he realized the trail his thoughts were following. Bugger this… I'm a bloody mess.

Lovino had the bad luck – or good, depending on the perspective – to come to visit Arthur just when he was more busy, disturbed and tired than ever. He just didn't want to start another fight for anything.

Again, the student brought one of his papers to ask for his opinion. Arthur was currently busy with one article so Lovino sat on one of the couches to eat a slice of pizza, insisting with his silent presence that Arthur stop his work to revise his writing. Finally the journalist made a pause and decided to make some tea to assist his guest.

In general, everything was fine. The discussion of ideas, the basics concepts, but as usual it was hard to follow the logic of his ideas because he left too many loose ends waiting for the reader to understand the point he wanted to reach. Arthur decided to let it go because pointing that weakness out meant things would become real nasty between them. The love for conflict was written into the Italian-American genetic code, after all, and there was nothing Arthur could do about it. Not that he wanted to, either.

"So what do you think?" the student asked anxiously.

"It's good."

"Come on… I have not been waiting a whole fucking hour for you to tell me that plain comment, dammit!"

"Well, the ideas are consistent… your point of view is well sustained, I just put some commas that were missing." Arthur raised his eyes to see Lovino's reaction at that. And there it was. Not very happy. "And also I think that it is hard to make the connection between the fourth and fifth paragraph, but that's part of your style so…"

"So, you are basically telling me that my style is being incoherent."

"I didn't use that word."

"You told me before… weeks ago."

Oh, my… here we go, Arthur thought, desolate.

"You told me," Lovino went on, "that some parts of my writing were incoherent."

"Because they were!" At that, Lovino's expression went on guard and Arthur decided to calm himself down. "But this is not the case… this one is good, this one is coherent and easy to read."

"So, the others weren't."

"Please, Lovino… please, I don't want to fight."

"How can I trust now in your judgment if you say this…"

"What?"

"How can I fucking trust you… you say that I was incoherent last week, it hasn't been too long since last week, how could I gain so much coherence in such a short time? How can I know if you're not saying that is well-written just because you don't want to fight?"

"ENOUGH!"

The brunet almost fell from the impression. He heard Arthur yelling to people all the time: to Tonio, to Alfred, to Francis, to his secretary by phone. Not to him.

"Lovino… enough, please… I'm tired."

"Are you tired of me?"

"No." Arthur sighed. This is what Francis was talking about when he said that talking to him was like approaching to a mined camp? Maybe this was divine payment for being so nasty with people for so many years. "I'm not tired of you… I just want to be quiet… and peaceful, please… I don't like to fight with you, it's so stressful… I just can't…"

"But I like to fight with you," Lovino said, and Arthur looked at him like he was a kind of two-headed monster. "I would like to do anything with you, bastard."

And that was it.

With that statement Lovino reached a new step in Arthur's patience.

The blond closed the gap between them. Lovino wasn't sure if Arthur grabbed him to punch his nose or to kick him out of the apartment. Not that he didn't deserve some of that. But instead Arthur grabbed his head with the other hand and kissed his lips in a fast, possessive and yet tender gesture. Lovino jolted in joy. He climbed his arms around Arthur's neck surprising him, making him shudder in a gasp. Lovino understood that Arthur was expecting rejection and even so had dared. What an audacious bastard. He, instead, never would be that brave.

000

And as everybody could suppose, after so many discussions and such a long longing, the lust between them was unstoppable. Of course they kept doing their other activities, but when they were alone it was a matter of time until one of them jumped the other.

It was a bit animalistic, in Arthur's opinion, and he believed he was not in age to behave like a horny college boy, but Lovino drove him crazy even in that area. Lovino was a shameless cheeky lover. Sometimes Arthur was concentrated in his writing and his cup of tea and Lovino would just show up and started to take off his clothes in the living room, exposing all his... wonders.

Lovino's body had to be a world wonder.

Arthur was wasting – or investing, depends on the perspective – too much of his time in attending to his young partner. Lovino seemed to have a lot of free time on his hands even when he claimed to have a lot of studying to do and papers to write. Arthur concluded that it was Lovino's youth that allowed him to spend so much time working and playing around with not much eating and not much sleep.

But Arthur wasn't a 20-year-old kid so he wasn't in his best shape. He was so tired in the morning that he could barely open his eyes and get up of the bed. Just the sight of his computer, his files and the deadlines noted in the calendar made him want to cry.

"You are almost 30 after all...you old dog," he said to himself, "stop fooling around with puppies and get some work done."

Francis pointed out how emaciated he looked. He recommended him to drink herbal beverages, to use pro-age creams for wrinkles and to do some exercise. Arthur just looked at him with a frown and snorted.

"You are the nanciest Nancy-boy in all this bloody country... and beyond."

Francis just laughed at that. He didn't bother anymore for his insults, because all he could see is that, beyond the tired expression, his friend never looked happier. Even Antonio – clueless as a blind monkey – could notice that Arthur's mood was improving. The same he could say about Lovino.

Everybody could notice - by looking superficially – that they had a lot in common and they were so much alike. Maybe too much. But Arthur had been in the world seven years longer, so he could somehow feel identified with the constant anger the young brunet had. That didn't mean, though, that he had more patience. That was a virtue he was never able to develop.

Their tempers collided almost every day, every hour, for any reasons. Arthur committed the mistake of positioning himself as the adult in charge, trying to make evident the superiority that he thought he had. Lovino meanwhile, contributed to the interaction, firing verbal darts where he believed it hurt, just to reciprocate the damage Arthur caused with his attitude. At that time, Arthur would never suspect that, behind the mask of pride and cockiness the Italian-American wore, he was hiding the most terrible inferiority complex.

But not everything was about the conflict – though it seemed like they were in love with it – they also had fun, and when they did it was so great that almost made it up for all the battles in between.

They both loved to read stories with dark, complicated characters. They both loved to go to the movies and to watch football games. They loved football, but the real one, not the one that Americans called as such, that was just a pitiful excuse for rugby.

They went to the park to play with Antonio, Lovino's younger brother Feliciano and his friend Ludwig. Arthur and Lovino were always on the same team, that was another point of union and they were content with that. Antonio was always in the contrary team and that wasn't that great. Tonio was a beast with the ball, no matter that he teamed with the clumsy Feliciano. He could easily match Arthur and Lovino by himself and he even won. He always won. That only made him even more cheery and annoying than usual.

Already at this stage of his life, for Arthur, losing while playing with Antonio wasn't that terrible. He could deal with that. For Lovino instead, it was unbearable. He complained the rest of the afternoon even when Arthur made his best to make him comfortable and relaxed. The subject was not over until the brunet released all his rage.

"It's so fucking humiliating!" he yelled, buried in the couch, beer in hand, like a ruffled cat that just had been sprayed with water.

"Come on, love, it's just a game, maybe next time..."

"He will kick our asses again if you keep with that loser attitude."

Arthur rolled his eyes, set his beer on the table and put his entire attention on him. After all, that was all Lovino needed the most of the time: full attention.

"And I don't know how you can be so cool with the idea when Antonio used to be a dick with you in high school."

"That was ages ago... besides I don't care because football has always been his field of expertise, I have another... areas."

"Oh, yeah? What areas would be?"

"Pub-fighting."

"You are a dick," Lovino snorted, letting the tension escape a bit.

"You should see me fighting in a pub," Arthur said, grinning while sitting by Lovino's side. "I'm a beast... nobody can keep up with me, I kick everybody's arses."

Lovino suddenly felt very content with the idea of his partner becoming a wild beast.

"Even Antonio?"

"Especially that git."

"Well... now... you, b-bastard, you could show me... how strong you are."

"Oh, of course I can," and the blond showed it to him. Arthur positioned himself on top of him and took his wrists brusquely to restrain them against the couch. Lovino moaned, he tried to offer resistance, playfully, while rubbing his hips against the blond's who started to follow the pace while biting roughly the brunet's neck. Arthur loved his dark skin, his young flesh, his energy, his passion, even if sometimes that passion was too much for him.

The battle for dominance was forgotten as Arthur needed to get rid of the clothing. Lovino helped him taking the blond's shirt, he pulled hard, Arthur felt his arm resenting that action so he grabbed Lovino's hand using all his strength. Lovino looked at him in defiance, he tried to grab Arthur's wrist too but he had not a chance, Arthur was stronger and more skilled. The blond used his legs to immobilize the lower body of his lover. Lovino was fascinated with the violence. With a free hand, Arthur started to unbutton the student's pants, pulling them down with his legs. It was hard to do, due to the position, but that was how they wanted it. The blond returned to Lovino's neck to leave marks, bites and a wet trail that went down to his chest.

"Dammit!"

"What's wrong, love?"

"You are taking ages... come on, old man." The younger man lifted his pelvis indicating that he wanted to be fully undressed. Arthur chuckled and slipped his free hand in slow motion over the fabric and the growing hardness, then took one of his fingers to his mouth, he wetted it and he placed it inside the underwear just to delight himself with the desperate jolt that shook the body of his young lover.

"B-bastard!..."

"Your manners are terrible," Arthur teased. "If you want something you have to ask it and say please... and after is done you say thank you; but you are always so rude that you don't deserve any consideration from me."

"I hate you..." Lovino panted with difficulty due his arousal, "so much in this moment... you have no idea."

"I thought you hated me all the time." The blond grabbed it all, stroking mercilessly.

"Only when you are a bastard... "

"But for you, I'm always a bastard."

"Ah... chigi!... damn you!... fuck me... please, you... "

"Oh... your manners are improving, very good!"

000

Arthur had a way to approach him, to caress him, to split him and entering him that was both exasperating and pleasant. Lovino felt aroused just to remember those episodes. He was not gay. He was not fully straight either – as the evidence showed – and that was something that sometimes conflicted him more than it should. Then he thought he didn't have to decide yet, he had plenty of time. He was so young yet. Arthur always mentioned that.

Fuck, he thought. How many people had been Arthur with? How many people Arthur saw in the office, in the pubs. Lovino wasn't of age to go to a pub. He didn't feel attracted to the idea of drinking till oblivion but he just wanted to know that part of the world. He didn't like the feeling of being out of something that was a part of Arthur's world.

"So... long you've known Arthur exactly?" Lovino asked to his cousin while he prepared espressos. Alfred – recently hired in the coffee shop – was attending tables a couple feet away.

"Mmm, let's see... we met almost fifteen years ago?" Tonio said trying to remember. "But I don't know so much about him in the school years, we were like mortal enemies... we fought every time we could, you know?"

"He told me so," Lovino added indifferently, or at least trying to sound indifferent. "And how many girlfriends did he had back then?"

"Girlfriends! Arthur!... that's hilarious!" Antonio had to stop his current task to laugh, which really annoyed his younger cousin. The barista prepared a tray with two cups and two slices of pie and handed it to Alfred who carried it happily to one of the tables. "He was the gayest guy in the whole district... I mean, that's what Francis said, he always knew about Arthur... in fact that was the reason why we fought so much."

"Why?"

"Because Francis knew... and he tried to... you know."

Lovino's face fell to the floor. Just to imagine that beardy bastard trying to flirt with HIS Arthur...

"But Arthur was so uptight back then, he tried to make the world believe he was some kind of asexual monk."

Now, THAT was funny. Asexual monk, my ass. Lovino grinned, remembering what the asexual monk could do in bed.

"He remained like that until college..." Tonio continued. "Then Francis met him again... the same career, the same courses, so they made a 'peace agreement' and that's how they started this weird friendship they have now. It's like they enjoy pissing each other off, and I enjoy to watch them fighting like little kids... it's almost like having the old times back."

"Why did you bully him?" Lovino asked. Antonio looked at him like he had said something horrifying and false.

"The word 'bully' is a bit strong... it wasn't bullying, he insulted my friend, he called him 'Francy pants.'"

Lovino laughed at that and then stopped at seeing Antonio's serious face.

"And I was so mad at him, because he was like that too, even worse, he was a closet case. How he dared to insult my friend with his sexuality when he was gay too? That's why I hated him so much... he cared so much for keeping up appearances... he still does, but at least now he is honest with himself and with his friends." Lovino nodded and Antonio added, "And he is a good man, Lovi... so take good care of him."

000

They day everything collided was not a special day. It was a Thursday afternoon. It was a summer day. Lovino had vacation from the University and he had even more time. Arthur, instead, was standing in hell's door. He was really tired, he had to finish two columns in a few hours because they would be published in two days. He was hungry, thirsty and above all things, he was desperate. Unfortunately, Lovino was an expert in bad timing.

The Italian-American arrived in the moment of full stress. Arthur is too abstracted in his job to talk to him or even do something nice or sexy. Lovino thought that was one of the times in which Arthur would finish a paragraph, close his laptop and come to him for some playful time. The student felt very disappointed when he finished a movie and Arthur was still possessed by his writing. But he doesn't get angry, instead he thought that it was up to him to seek for his lover, so he took a chair to sit behind him and wrap his arms around the blond's waist. Arthur barely reacts jumping and saying, "You scared me."

"That's because you are concentrating on that thing."

At that, the blond just mumbled some incomprehensible noise and kept writing. Lovino was not very happy with his attitude, but he just wanted attention, so he kissed his neck softly trying to get a nice response. Instead of that Arthur just gave him a dry "Please, not now" while writing steadily.

Lovino stood up in a dramatic way. He started to walk from one side to another like a lion in a cage. Arthur was not aware of the drama that was unfolding in his living room. Lovino slammed his fists on the journalist's desk calling – finally – his attention.

"I'm bored!" the student yelled, flames coming from his eyes. Arthur saved his progress and closed his laptop.

"Love... I don't have time for this now. I have tons of work to do, things that I should have finished yesterday, I haven't slept, I haven't eaten either, and I need to finish this in four hours. Could you...? Just... please..."

"Do you want me to go?... Are you kicking me out?"

"No... Christ! Lovino! Why everything has to be so hard with you!"

The Italian-American seemed offended.

"You aren't exactly the most easygoing person... you are old, grouchy, and all the time you seem to have a stick in your ass. I'm the greatest entertainment you ever had in your whole pathetic life, so I don't think you should choose your work over me, because I might get bored of you."

Arthur tried to remain calm. Lovino was lethal when he wanted but he would not please him letting him know how much effect his words had on him.

"Well, that's amusing coming from someone who doesn't have friends and who's always left behind by everybody... Do you really believe someone else is going to choose you over something? Think twice, it's you who might regret if I get bored of you." The blond thought that was a fair response. He sat and opened his laptop again waiting for Lovino to go, to respond with something worse or to sit in silence to do whatever he wanted.

He wasn't expecting to see Lovino crying.

First, Arthur heard a tiny whine, almost silent. Then he heard a pant. That's when he decided to look and what he saw was something that chased him even months later.

"You are a bastard!" said the younger men, covering his face. Arthur heard his hurt voice and knew that this tone of saying "bastard" was serious. The blond stood up and walked towards him, kneeling to be in front of the brunet.

"Lovino – "

"How could you! Among all people... I would never believe you would say something like that to me."

"Love, listen..."

"Love? You always say that, but you don't love anyone!...God..."

Was that the time, when Lovino broke in that devastated state, when Arthur knew it was too much? That was it.

"Lovino, we can't go on like this... we are hurting each other... hey, look at me."

"What are you talking about now? Are you breaking up or something? You are heartless, really... Tonio was right in believing that from you in high school."

"Think whatever you want, but we can't go on like this, we're going to kill each other's nerves if we continue this madness." Arthur became serious, determined and Lovino feared like he had never feared something before.

"You can't do this me..."

"What do you want then, Lovino... tell me, what do you want from me?"

"I want this... we are good, just the way we are."

"No, we are not. Are you? Because this situation is awful to me."

"Come on, don't be dramatic! This is normal, everybody fights now and then."

"We fight all the time..."

"That is because there is passion between us! A little conflict... is good for us."

"This is way too much conflict to be healthy... and I had enough conflict in the past to be satisfied for all my life, I don't need more."

"I don't have anything to do with what you had before with God knows who… this is me, this is US."

"No… there is no us, anymore." Lovino looked at him in disbelief. "This is the end of it… I'm done with this."

000

Since they broke up, Arthur found himself with a lot of free time on his hands. He tried to think that it was something positive, that he could get his life back and get the relaxation he needed so much. He bought lots of books and read them; he studied and documented himself to write his columns. He worked more and more efficiently. He had time to go out more, to watch more movies and he even recovered the old habit of going to lunch with Francis on weekdays.

Sometimes the memories are too painful to handle. One night Arthur was writing in his desk, looking to the empty living room, the couch where 'he' used to sit. Where 'they' used to lie and...

Arthur took his head in his two hands and then decided to pick up the phone and call his friends. He needed to go on with his life, to do what he used to do before all that drama. He needed to go to a pub and drink until the world stopped being such a miserable place. He called Gilbert and together they kidnapped Francis from his fancy office full of models, bags, shoes and colors.

Just an hour passed since they arrived to the Irish pub and both Gilbert and Arthur already had three liters of beer in their blood. Francis decided to have just a glass of wine because obviously he would be the adult in charge. He was not exactly happy with the situation so he called Tonio to get some support when he had to drag two drunken bulks to the street. Arthur laughed loudly, almost in an obscene way. Francis knew that at any moment he would break into a pitiful cry, then Gilbert would give him some advice that - instead of encouraging his friend - would put in him the sudden wish to break everything. Francis didn't want to be there when that happened. Patrick - the bartender - had warned them, another scandal and they would be banned from the pub. It was so unfair that he had to be punished just because his friends were unable to behave.

The Frenchman sighed in relief when he saw his friend Antonio crossing the entrance door. But something was wrong with him; he wasn't wearing his usual smile. Francis gave a second look and understood what troubled his friend. In the front door was Lovino, yelling like a mad man that he wanted to go in.

Francis pleaded to heaven, "Please, don't let this situation get worse." Of course, life planned always against his will.

"ARTHUR!" Lovino's voice raised above all the noise. "I know you are in there... Bastard!"

At that insult, the blond seemed to be summoned by an upper force. He looked to the front door to find the reason for all his sorrows. Francis tried to grab him; Gilbert wasn't of much help while flirting with somebody's girlfriend just to start a fight. The Frenchman was desperate and Arthur took advantage of his carelessness to run to the entrance of the pub.

"Merde" was all Francis could say. Antonio went right to grab Gilbert before he could make the situation even worse.

"But I don't want to go!" Gilbert screamed in a childish tone.

"He followed me... I didn't notice until I was here," Antonio apologized to his only sober friend.

"You never notice anything, my dear friend," Francis said bitterly, watching at the streets where Lovino and Arthur yelled to each other, both the verge of tears. "You know I love romance, dramas and everything, but this soap opera is killing my enormous patience."

"And what do you suggest? We can't just erase their memories like in that movie you liked so much."

"Of course not... they were together before and they drove each other crazy; now they aren't and they are driving us crazy with their drama, so there's only one choice left."

"What do you suggest?" Antonio asked in a very loud voice, trying to be heard between Gilbert's scandal and his friend's lover's spat.

"Now you have to take your cousin with you while I carry the drunken ones home and tomorrow... we have to get these two idiots together again!"

000

Arthur woke up in hell. Again. This time his personal flames consisted of a horrible headache, a burning thirst, Gilbert's alcoholic smell beside him and his cell phone filled with messages from him.

-How can you go out so happily like nothing had happened? You are heartless, I knew it!-

-You are a coward and a runner. You are so weak, you couldn't resist a little conflict?-

-And how can you say to everybody that I'm a monster? You are not an easygoing person. At all! So fuck you, and your victim complex-

Arthur growled in frustration and threw his phone to the side were Gilbert was. The albino moved and murmured something that sounded like "Not awesome..." Arthur didn't care. He stood up to drink a glass of water and take a pill. Then, he made breakfast, or more likely he ordered something by phone because if he let Gilbert eat something he prepared, he would never hear the end of it.

After Gilbert woke up, plastered him with his jokes, ate everything he could and left. Arthur could finally start to clean the house, take a shower and think on the work he had to do. Francis called just when he turned on his laptop. Arthur was desolate. He really wanted to be alone the rest of the day.

"Hallo, my dearest drunk," the Frenchman said with his melodic and irritating voice, "How is your hangover? Lovely as usual?"

"Lovelier than ever now that I hear your batrachian's voice."

"Oh, I'm so glad to help, my love."

"What do you want?"

"Remember that book I promised to get you? I got it, I called the author yesterday and he gave me a copy, so, what do you think if we meet in Tonio's apartment in an hour?"

Arthur sighed. Why the hell would Francis make him go to Tonio's place and not deliver the thing straight to his place? "Well, fine... see you in a hour, and don't be late because I bloody hate when you make me wait."

"Oh, no, this time I will satisfy you immediately, no foreplay."

Arthur growled some insult that made Francis laugh and he cut off the call.

000

"Was all that necessary?" Antonio asked to his friend when he finally hung up.

"Absolutely, I can't live if I don't molest my grouchy little man." Francis sang happily. "And, did you call Lovino?"

"Yes. I told him to go to my apartment because I needed help with my account books." At that, Francis clapped and Antonio added, "I don't think this is a good Idea, they are going to hate us... if they don't kill each other first."

"Please, don't be so dramatic! Nothing will happen, they just going to see each other, fall in love again and end all this madness. Now! I'm going to watch their arriving, give me the keys."

"Oh... I have a bad feeling about this," the Hispanic mourned before he handed his keys to Francis.

000

The first who arrived was Lovino. Just as planned. Francis opened the door and pretended he was surprised. He told him that Tonio was busy so "He asked me to come here to let you in... but I don't know where his math notebooks are... can you go to look in his room? Maybe there..." Lovino felt very pissed off with his cousin and his annoying friend but he didn't say a word and went to Antonio's bedroom. Francis looked his clock. It was almost five o'clock. Five seconds... four... three... two... one...

The bell sounded in exact timing. Francis grinned. Arthur was a maniac, even with a huge hangover. He hoped Lovino didn't suspect a thing and opened the door to his friend.

"So, you are here after all," Arthur said, entering the apartment.

"I'm glad to see you too," Francis said, watching his friend walking to the living room.

Arthur looked back to the Frenchman and said, "Why are you there by the door... you just don't remember the way back in, you bloody silly frog?" Arthur wanted to start a fight, he smiled archly but then his expression was puzzled when he saw his friend going out and heard the door's lock being closed out from the outside.

"I can't find his fucking account books, so tell the bastard that..." Lovino froze when he saw his ex standing next to the sofa with another equal terrified look. Arthur looked at him, at then at the door, repeatedly, until he understood.

"BLOODY HELL!" He yelled running to the front door. "Come on bloody faggy frog! This is not funny! Open the sodding door now or I will bloody kill you!" There was not a single response so he did what he thought it was more reasonable. He kicked the door and then cursed because of the pain on his foot.

Lovino looked at him like he was watching the most ridiculous man on earth. "Let me guess," the Italian-American started, "they closed us in this pigpen hoping we woudn't scape and we would talk and resolve our problems."

"It seems like that." Arthur sighed without looking at him.

"Well..." Lovino said calmly, "I will fucking castrate those bastards when we get out of here."

And after that, completely silence took hold of the place. Arthur seemed to forget he could easily escape by unlocking the door himself, yet he wasn't very smart when he was upset and Lovino would not let go the opportunity. The brunet waited for any reaction, looking straight to the other man. Arthur very soon started to feel uneasy around his ex, so he searched for Tonio's CD's , put a Beatle record setting a high loudness and then headed to the kitchen.

"Do you want a cup of coffee?" the blond cried to be heard by his companion.

"Eh?... Mmm, sure, bast... I mean, thank you."

Arthur ignored Lovino's attempt to be kind and gave himself to the task. The voices of the Liverpool golden boys bounced around the room relaxing them and – at the same time – making them so anxious.

"You're asking me will my love grow, I don't know, I don't know..." Arthur sang from the kitchen. Lovino smiled as he waited for him to bring the beverages. Arthur came with everything neatly ordered on a tray. He started to accommodate the things over the table and announced. "Here, espresso, black, no sugar, and a chocolate that I found in a candy box... it's not an Amaretto bonbon, but it will do."

"Yes, thank you... you remember everything very well."

Arthur frowned at that. He thought he had not wished to remember.

"I didn't know you liked The Beatles... that much," Lovino commented just to make a conversation. He couldn't stand to be with Arthur in the same room and act like they were strangers.

"I like lots of rock bands... I play guitar sometimes," the blond answered coldly.

"Really? You never told me..."

"I never had the chance to do to it."

"I would have liked to hear you..."

"I thought all you liked was to fight me for any reasons."

"Arthur! I didn't enjoy to be mad at you!... I just... this is how I am." Lovino stated like it was some scientific fact. "And I didn't know how to behave with you, because I have never had a partner for such a long time... and I didn't know how to deal with what I felt..." At this point, the younger man silenced, he seemed so embarrassed. "Fuck! this is so complicated"

"And how did you feel?" Arthur asked, trying to hold his hopes back. Looking concentrated at his cup of tea.

"...I never developed feelings for somebody; I just... fooled around with them, but you..."

"I loved you, Lovino," Arthur said. He didn't want to hold back anymore; it was too stressful and it had no point. Lovino looked broken, the loss feeling printed in his features. "I still do," Arthur added to make himself clear. "I don't know why, but I still love you, I might be a crazy masochist."

"Don't put it like that... you make me feel awful," the brunet said, sounding terribly sorry.

"Well, after all we've been through I think that we both are masochistic."

"I can change, you know?" the student sat by his side and took his hands with extreme care. "I can control my temper, I can grow up faster...and be stable and calm..."

"No, you can't," Arthur entwined his fingers between the younger ones, "and you shouldn't. Nobody should change his way of being just in order to be loved. Besides, you are great just the way you are... I don't want you to change."

Lovino felt he was about to cry again, so he pulled the blond close to him and kissed his lips superficially. Just a little peck. Arthur grabbed his head to deepen the contact. Lovino gasped in surprise and for that, the blond knew that the brunet was expecting to be rejected. And even so he dared. How brave he was sometimes... how admirable.

"We will make this work out this time," Arthur stated. "I'll be patient... I will pay all the attention you need, when you need it..."

"I will understand that you can't do what I want when you are busy, you have work to do... I will try to help you, cooking, cleaning, whatever to make your life easy..."

"Blast! I missed you so much...!"

And they hugged. They wrapped their free hands as they chatted about what they did in all the time they weren't together, they had a lot to catch up with. It was written. It can't be finished. No matter how much or less it lasted. Everything was repeating inside of them even if they were apart from each other.

000

At nine PM, Antonio, Alfred and Francis started their walk to Tonio's apartment. The Spaniard was still nervous; he feared to find some horrifying scenario in his living room. Some crime scene. Oh God.... Francis assured him that everything was going to be alright and if it wasn't he could always go to Belle's house to get some satisfying consolation.

They opened the door, nervous, expecting to find the debris of World War Three, but instead of that in the living room just were Lovino and Arthur, drinking a cup of coffee and tea respectively. They were chatting so pertly, laughing and smiling like they never had before a reason to smile.

It was so weird to see them so cheery.

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(1) The Ouroboros or Uroborus, is an ancient symbol depicting a serpent or dragon eating its own tail. The Ouroboros often represents self-reflexivity or cyclicality, especially in the sense of something constantly re-creating itself, the eternal return, and other things perceived as cycles that begin anew as soon as they end (like the phoenix life cycle). The Ouroboros also symbolizes the eternal effort and fight, because the process always starts again no matter the actions taken to stop it.