Disclaimer: The day the Bad Touch Trio becomes celibatic will be the day I become co-owner of Hetalia.
Warnings: Language, sexual themes, fluff, some angst
Notes: Italic Text = personal thoughts
Matthew Williams – Canada
Lovino Vargas – South Italy/ Romano
Acero – Maple (Italian)
Enjoy~
Their First
Lovino and Matthew's first meeting occurred three years ago. When clingy, hyperactive younger brothers meet, it is common nature for them to drag their older, snarky siblings along as well. Oblivious to their brother's chatter, leery olive-green and modest indigo-blue eyes crossed paths for the first time in the booth at the very back of the diner. One inquisitive look led to one frivolous conversation which led to several more excursions of simplistic need to learn about the brother of their brother's friend.
Their first kiss bechanced two and a half years ago. It would not be noted as one of the most romantic of endeavors. To kiss the one he liked the most at the party was Lovino's dare, and, in his buzzed haze of clouded self-preservation, he accomplished the dare shocking his Canadian friend in the process. It was only when Matthew did not pull away from the sloppy kiss, but soberly embraced it, did Lovino realize that Matthew's feelings for him were just as strong as the reverse.
Their first date followed on the Saturday a couple of days later. Despite going to dinner together countless times in the past, the difference this time stemmed from the ability to be fully truthful with their feelings. No more did one party have to invent a cover for a slip of the tongue or an accidental touch that would cross the lines for a normal friendship. From making fun of cheesy movies to swapping family recipes, it did not matter where as long as the who was the both of them.
Their first insecurities arose two and a quarter years ago. Being judged as the shadow of their brothers has robbed them of the confidence and trust needed in a functioning, healthy relationship. Matthew did not believe Lovino really liked him; Lovino did not believe he was good enough for Matthew. The looming space generated from these two distorted thoughts exposed the communication need, where upon, Lovino and Matthew discovered that rejection from the other for being themselves was futile.
Their first validations rooted themselves two years ago. Underneath the largest maple tree in the park, Lovino bluntly asked where this relationship was heading. Sensibly, Matthew suggested why they don't become boyfriends. After hesitation, both men laughed at their own obliviousness to their actions, for they introduced themselves as just dating when, in actuality, they could have been considered boyfriends a while ago. It just took a little push to cross from the save haven of half-friendship to the complicated jungle of titles.
Their first fight developed a year and a half ago. It was not the usual petty lovers-quarrel, but came to be from a build up of jealousy and uncertainty that was ready to burst. Disconnected from not being enough, Matthew expressed his accusations against Lovino for constantly flirting and hooking up with other women when he had a boyfriend. Angered at not being trusted, Lovino denied having relations with anyone else but Matthew and countered with how close the blonde was with his self-proclaimed Prussian friend. It would be a couple days later till the both of them cooled their anxiety, but they both agreed that it would be better to voice their concern and desires than to let them lie quietly dormant like a ticking bomb. The small, temporary rift only strengthened their resolve to better themselves and each other: Lovino gave Matthew more attention and Matthew gave Lovino more credit.
Their first confessions transpired one year ago. Amongst the hollering hockey fans, one particular blonde cursed the opposing team to Hell and back; unbeknownst that his brunette partner watched and listened in admiration of the crafted insults. So when the string of curses stumbled to a halt upon hearing the fated three words, Matthew had to ask a flushed Lovino for a repeat. Three words jumped to four as he announced 'I fucking love you' not only to Matthew's astonished face, but the whole rink from the Kiss Cam's peering, perverted eye. Matthew responded with his own four words 'I love you too' and a genuine, soft kiss to prove himself and please the cheering crowd.
Their first time evolved eight months ago. It was a heated tangle of awkward limbs and unsure caresses, as any intimate moment between two virgins would be. They both went to bed as innocent boyfriends and left as bounded lovers. In between the rustled sheets rested the moment the both of them had been waiting for: a way to prove to their partner just how far their love, assurance, and need stretched.
Their first catalyst befell six months ago. Ready to seal their relationship to the next level just below marriage, Matthew packed the rest of his belongings into cardboard boxes to be shipped over to Lovino's place. He already had several of his personal items at the Italian's, so why not complete the deal and put their relationship to the ultimate test? Despite the few trivial, expected arguments here and there, forever sleeping next to each other in the same bed, making breakfast together in the morning, and coming home from work to see each other's calming face made the newly shared apartment heaven on Earth.
Matthew's first abandonment since moving in with Lovino happened today.
Stretching his limbs, a couple joints popping in the process, it took Matthew all but a few seconds to realize that this morning was different from the others. He could actually stretch his arms, the spot where Lovino's sheet-stealing (which the Canadian did not mind much because the Italian's warm body was a fair compensation) body usually occupied was replaced by the cold, barren sheets.
Conflicted, Matthew couldn't fathom how Lovino could break his promise of, and Matthew quotes, 'I'm a lazy shit that doesn't like getting up in the morning. So of course I'll be right next to you when you wake up every morning, Acero.'
A little hysterical voice in the back of his head, fueled by years of abandonment issues due to living in various foster homes, voiced his greatest fears that their entire relationship had just been some sick game, but it was quashed as Matthew rationalized the situation instead of letting blind fear take control. He is probably just in the bathroom or something. I honestly can't expect him to be here every morning, Matthew thought.
Relaxed, Matthew prepared himself to lie back down for that generously needed weekend rest when the door to Lovino and his shared bedroom opened. Within the doorframe, shocked expression, flour on the cheek, and tray with a delicious-smelling stack of pancakes and fancy, white syrup jug, stood Matthew's lover.
"Shit… I wasn't expecting you to be up yet," Lovino observed. He fidgeted his way to Matthew's bedside, nervousness radiating from his lanky form, and sat the breakfast-in-bed tray on his lap.
"Good morning to you too, Sunshine," Matthew friendly bartered and critiqued the sugar stacks before him. Exact replicas from his famous recipe that has been handed down in the family for generations. "And what do I owe you for this lovely surprise?"
"You owe me nothing a good dinner tonight and honesty." One side of Lovino's mouth quirked up into a condescending smile, foreign to the Italian's face; not the usual smirk he gives. So sex is not in the equation.
Matthew raised a fair eyebrow to signal a further explanation. Sighing, Lovino picked up the maple syrup jar and studied it nostalgically, "… do you remember that day when we acted like emotional teenage girls and confessed our love for each other?"
"How could I forget? We were on the internet the next day."
"Today is exactly one year since then."
One year goes by fast. "… so you've been stalking the calendar, b-but…"
When Lovino poured the syrup over the rich-looking pancakes, unusual, small knowing smile back in place, Matthew's breath staggered. Within the sugary liquid gleamed an innocent golden band.