They were neither of them beautiful, inside or out. They were both too loud, too vulgar and obnoxious, for anyone to see the beauty in them. That didn't stop them from seeing the beauty in each other.

Gilbert had known for a long time. When he finally realised why he was always so drawn to the foul-mouthed Italian, it seemed so obvious he could've kicked himself. If it'd been anyone else he would've gone for it, dropped a few hints or even flat out offered to buy them a drink. But it was Lovino.

Which meant there was the problem of Antonio.

Lovino practically belonged to Antonio. He always had. Gilbert knew exactly what would happen if he tried anything with Lovino, and he didn't want to:
a) Lose one of his best friends over something stupid or
b) Piss Spain off.

The image of Antonio in his conquistador days still gave many powerful nations nightmares today, centuries later. How would they treat him now, Gilbert wondered, if they knew that part of him still lurked so close beneath the surface? Besides, it was Lovino, he probably wanted nothing to do with the Prussian.

But Gilbert wasn't one to let something as girly as feelings get him down. He was awesome enough to get whatever (or whoever) he wanted. He could deal with a few unrequited feelings every now and then. It was only a matter of time before he'd almost forgotten about it completely.

Then came the breakup.

It had seemed like a pretty normal afternoon when Gilbert arrived at Spain's house. He'd had some spare time and decided to surprise his friend (and maybe sneak a few glances at a feisty Italian, if he was around). Antonio was sitting out back, on the steps leading up to his deck, head in his hands and skin shining with sweat. To Gilbert, it looked like he was just catching his breath after tending to his precious tomato plants.

"Yo Spain, the Awesome One decided to pay you a visit!" Gilbert announced loudly, "aren't you lucky?"

Antonio completely ignored him, not even bothering to lift his head from his hands. That was when Gilbert first noticed something was up.

"Tonio?" Gilbert said, more quietly this time, as he sat down beside his friend.

"Hola, Amigo," Antonio finally responded, voice flat and muffled by his hands. If he hadn't known better, Gilbert could've sworn it sounded like he was-

Gilbert grabbed his friend's wrists, pulling his hands away from his face and forcing the Spaniard to look at him. Sure enough, there were tear tracks running down his face, and his eyes were red and bloodshot.

"What happened?" Gilbert demanded, releasing Antonio's wrists. "Who did this to you?"

He had to fight to keep the growl out of his voice. Getting angry wasn't going to help anyone, no matter how much he wanted to find whoever had hurt his friend and beat them to a pulp.

"L-lovino broke up with me!" Antonio wailed, covering his face once more with his hands.

Gilbert should've felt guilty about the way his heart skipped a beat. If Antonio and Lovino weren't a couple…that meant he might actually have a chance now.

Feeling like a cheap friend, Gilbert ignored the direction his thoughts were going in as he tried to think of something to say to his friend.

"That's totally unawesome!" he finally said. "Doesn't Romano know you're almost as awesome as me?"

It didn't really seem to cheer Antonio up, who only shrugged mutely in response. Gilbert decided words weren't helping, and went in search of the only thing he knew that could fix a broken heart.

Liquor.

Leaving Antonio staring out into space, Gilbert went in search of something that could get them both drunk. He found a case of beer in the fridge, the good kind that Antonio kept around for when Gilbert came over. It wasn't exactly Antonio's drink of choice, but it was what he was getting.

The Spaniard didn't protest when an open bottle was slid into his hand. He took a swig without Gilbert having to tell him too, eager to forget.

Gilbert took his time, for once not matching Antonio drink for drink. By the time they'd managed to make a dent in the case, the sun was setting on the horizon, dying the sky a darkening shade of blood red. Antonio was beginning to relax, the alcohol beginning to take effect. Gilbert knew this was his chance.

"So what happened?" he asked, and there was no question as to what he was talking about. Luckily, Antonio seemed all too eager to share the details now, with his mind buzzing from the beer.

"Lovi's been acting so distant lately, and at first I thought it was just stress…but then I came home, and he was waiting for me by the door and he told me that…he told me it was over." Antonio stared sadly off into the gardens, eyes fixed on something only he could see.

"He'll probably be back before you know it," Gilbert said, a weak attempt at comforting his friend.

"He said he's wanted to break up with me for months!" Antonio said, voice breaking. "And I-I said some things, and Lovino said that…that I only ever wanted Feliciano! I think he actually believed it too!"

Gilbert knew what it was like to feel like the underappreciated, unneeded brother. And he knew that Lovino was familiar with it too.

"He was mad, he didn't mean it," Gilbert said.

Antonio didn't even reply, just broke down into more tears. Gilbert had seen his friends weak before, during wars and depressions, but never as utterly broken as this. Nations on the verge of collapse had more strength than the Spanish man sobbing before him. Gilbert almost wanted to tell Antonio to pull himself together.

Eventually, Antonio tired himself out. Gilbert dragged him to bed, not unused to the weight of a drunken friend on his shoulders, and left him to rest. He slept on the couch, knowing he couldn't leave Spain alone to do something stupid.

And in the morning, when Antonio wandered downstairs and mumbled his thanks, Gilbert felt even worse about hopeful he was feeling.