A/N: By the way, I DON'T SPEAK DUTCH. So if someone would please tell me if my Google Translation is correct and if not please correct me!
Small sobs rocked the young five-year-old boy's body back and forth. His tears dripped down his face, diluting the blood that covered the left side of his face from an almost gushing vertical wound on his forehead. He told himself he'd never cry, but the pain from the wound was tremendous. Although the tears flowed and his little body trembled, his expression was as strong as ever, yet hidden by his ratty-jean-covered knees.
"Hey, are you alright?" An older boy – only by a year or two – knelt down and gently nudged his shoulder. "Do you need help?"
The crying boy glared up at this new one. "I'm fine. Go away." He noticed how the other's eyes were green like his, only they were a deeper more forest green as compared to his sharp almost hazel green eyes. Instead of his pale skin and blonde hair, this boy had a rich tan from playing outside and messy brown locks.
The new boy stood up, taking the injured boy's hand and dragging inside a nearby house. "You're not fine! You're bleeding! You need help!" Even though he wanted to run and not accept help – since in his entire life, none was given to him – the blonde somehow allowed himself to be brought into the warm house by the equally warm hand guiding him.
He was quickly seen to by a young-looking adult (who the boy called "grandfather" for some reason) and the rest of the event went into a blur, but what that boy would always remember were the warm hand in his and the soft, caring emerald green eyes.
[~Time-skip: 17 years later~]
Lars moaned, holding his heavy head. He hated being sick, especially when it was raining. Sure, a fever wasn't bad during rain, but his headache was only intensified by the pounding rain, bright flashes of lighting and near-constant thunder. Flopping back onto his plush bed, he reached for his cellphone to see who the hell texted him and woke him up in the first place.
From: Toni
R U OK? Need me 2 come over?
Of course that idiot texted him. The Spaniard never left him alone.
Quickly texting back that he was fine and desired solace, he sought out the little pills of Advil and greedily swallowed them before once again laying back with his phone next to him that decided to go off again right as he got comfortable.
From: Toni
R U sure? Worried bout you.
Why the hell is he always worried about me!? Lars inwardly complained, shooting back a short "do what u want" in reply. That was the only way to deal with the clingy man; let him decide on his own what to do. There's no way he would listen to him otherwise.
An hour or so later, he woke back up. Not from his phone for once, but from something soft and cold being pressed on his forehead with care. He cracked one open and fuzzily made out brown hair and very familiar green eyes.
"Toni…"
With a smile, Antonio Carriedo – known as Toni to his friends – removed what turned out to be a damp cloth and set it on the wooden nightstand. "Hola~ How're you feeling?"
"I was fine before you got here."
"Hurtful~" He play-pouted, helping the Dutchman sit up and presenting him with more water and medicine. "And to think I brought some polenta and homemade paella and some flan I made this afternoon with me, but you obviously don't want me here so I'll just go and take it with me~"
Lars' hand shot out, grabbing the edge of the retreating red shirt. "You're not leaving yet."
Toni turned around with another smile, ruffling the other's blonde hair. "I was just going to get the food~ Relax~"
"… Idiot."
"Te quiero también~"
After the door shut behind the brunette, Lars ran a hand through his hair (that was actually down for once) and sighed. He hated how he could get so worked up over the other sometimes. It didn't make any sense to him. Sure, they had been friends since childhood and co-workers when they were teens for some reason as well, but that didn't mean that he should become flustered on the inside when they talked or feel bad when the other was worried about him or having his heart skip a beat whenever those emerald eyes looked at him-
Oh, what was he thinking! He wasn't some lovesick high school girl! He was a grown man and certinatly NOT in love with Antonio. Or the way his eyes seemed to glitter in the right light. Or his sunny smile that almost made him want to smile. Or his cheerful laugh that he could listen to all day. Or his never-ending optimism he's always admired. Or his tanned physique he wanted to know every inch of. Or his warm hands that make him feel like he's melting whenever he's touched by them. Or his soft hair he wanted to play with for hours on end. Or his playful yet comforting voice. Nope, none of that. He WASN'T "in love" with his best friend.
To make matters worse (or some might argue, better) Antonio re-entered with a tray of delicious-smelling food, some steaming tea and a little plate of flan to cheer him up. Damn him and his knowledge of what foods he loved that would also cure his grumpy attitude for a while.
With one bite into the smooth, squishy-sweet flan, Lars felt the dark fog of his terrible mood lift and dissipate until he might have been able to say he was in a rare "good mood".
The faint traces of a smile danced on the edges of his lips and he took another bite, the smile growing a little more.
"Taste good?"
Though it faded as soon as he was reminded that there was another person in his sparsely-decorated room. "It's good."
"And?"
"And it's good." He kept eating and tried to keep his emotions in check and not smile like the idiot next to him. "…I needed this…" he grumbled, face slightly pinking.
His cheek was poked and subsequently pinched back out. "You're so cute when you blush~"
Not even thinking, he snatched Toni's hand and held it for a while before letting go and calmly going back to his food. "I'm a grown man; I'm not cute in any sense of the word."
"You are to me~"
"You're an idiot."
"But I'm your idiot~"
The Dutchman facepalmed, realizing this was a battle he wasn't going to win. For some reason, everything was brought back to the fact he was stuck with this guy for probably the rest of his life.
Which brought up a very good question. He never had much Spanish in his life, but he had a burning question in the back of his mind. "By the way, what does te quiero tambien or whatever you say all the time mean, anyway?"
One blonde eyebrow raised as he watched the Spaniard explode into a fiery red blush. He started stuttering and looking every direction other than right at him. Eventually he managed to make a fairly coherent sentence. "Well… It literally means 'you are dear to me also', but what it's closer to is…. 'I love you, too'."
Before he could jump to any conclusions, there was one thing he wanted to make sure of.
"Do you mean as a friend or as a lover?"
Silence stayed in place until it was broken by Antonio's quiet and barely audible voice. "Amante... L-Lover…"
Lars' heart stopped. His mouth grew dry as a bone and his entire body temperature skyrocketed. All this time he thought he was the only one having these conflicting and forbidden feelings and it turned out he wasn't alone…
Before he made any sudden moves, however, he set the tray of food a safe distance away and turned so he was back facing the other anxious man.
"Listen, Lars, I-"
"Stop talking." In the blink of an eye, he pulled Anotnio down, crashing him against his chest. "You're an idiot, you know that?"
Confused, Antonio looked up at him, squirming in his strong grasp until he was in a more comfortable position straddling his legs. "Wha-"
With a burst of 'screw it' energy and motivation, he tilted the other's chin up and kissed him square on his soft pink lips, coyly running his tongue up and down his bottom lip to get Antonio to open up. To his immense relief, he did open up, letting him slip his tongue into the warm cavern presented to him. He curiously poked around the new mouth, learning every inch of it. His eyes fluttered shut and his hand snaked to the back of Toni's neck for support.
After a few blissful moments, Lars pulled away, kissing the Spaniard on the forehead and smoothing down the silky chocolate locks.
"L-Lars… what…"
"Ik hou van je, Antonio." A huge weight was lifted off his chest when he finally confessed and kissed his love again, only this time a little less desperately and a little more sweetly.
But he had forgotten that Antonio didn't really speak Dutch. "I mean… I love you, Antonio." he repeated; his cheeks dusted pink. His arms slithered to his waist and he set his head on Toni's awaiting shoulder.
A warm hand ran though his blonde hair. "I'm glad." There was no mistaking the relieved, calming smile the brunette wore. He kissed his scar and then pecked his lips gently. "Though as glad as I am, you still need your rest." He pushed him down until he was lying back on the bed again and crawled off, pulling up the covers to rest below his chin.
"But I wanted to touch you more…" Lars pouted, clearly very unhappy with the situation.
"Sorry, Lars~ Maybe later~" With a small laugh, he picked up the half-eaten food and placed it on the nearby nightstand. "Well, I'll leave this here. I have some work to catch up on, but I'll be back when I can."
"Tch. Fine." The Dutchman flipped to his side so he was facing the wall instead of Antonio. "See you later…"
"Te amo, conejito~"
"…Ik hou van je."