Chapter 3: Can't Help Falling in Love
It was funny how time flew while Lovino was living with Antonio. One day, he was three feet tall with a round face under light bracken hair, and the next, he was nearly as tall as Antonio, his face losing most of the baby fat and his hair darkening to a light chestnut, and still growing darker with each summer. As Antonio physically aged to his early twenties, Lovino grew to look like a teenager, his jawline squaring out and his brow becoming even further accentuated by his ever-present scowl. Although he took to hiding in his room for the years his voice began to crack at every other word, he passed through puberty without any major incident. By the time he was comfortable with his older body and new, surprisingly deep voice, the days spent at Antonio's house were more or less peaceful.
As Lovino grew up, Antonio could tell that the Italian boy trusted in him more and more each day. He complained less when Antonio would return from work, down in the dumps from the imperialist work he was forced to carry out, and simply did his best to help out. His childhood chorea proved to be just that, completely dissipating by the time his voice began to change, and it made it a lot easier for him to clean house. He still complained and shirked his responsibilities, however, and Antonio still let him get away with it, because after all this time, Lovino was still Boss's favorite little tomato.
The quality time spent with Lovino was well worth the long hours of grueling, heart wrenching work for Antonio. Although he had given up interest in being a conquistador and a pirate since Lovino had begun to grow up, his Boss still forced him into the work. He would return from months at sea, worn out, grey-faced, and depressed, carrying some new horde of treasure or colony behind him. Lovino would greet him flippantly, hands on his hips, and demand a present of some sort before rushing to bring Antonio clean clothes or cook him dinner or offer to play him a song on the guitar. After the deed was done, Lovino would fervently deny it ever happened. Lovino's reluctant warmth for Antonio led to long hours spent in the garden or on the porch or in the music room, peaceful moments of stillness in Antonio's bloody, turbulent lifestyle.
Antonio plucked another tomato from the stem and placed it in a large wicker basket. The Spanish sun was particularly hot that day, and he and Lovino could only work for so long before pausing to take water breaks in the shade of a tree. Both young men worked with a thin layer of sweat coating their foreheads and the back of their necks, yet neither complained. They were enjoying each other's company. Lovino held a garden hose, lazily splashing the tomato plants in clean rows.
"We sure got a lot of tomatoes this year," grunted Antonio, plucking another tomato from the stem. "I think it's even more than last year!"
"Who knows," said Lovino. He paused to run the water over his tanned bare feet. "But there sure as hell are a shit load of them. Hey, Tonio, why don't you help me water these things, huh?"
"Lovi, stop wasting the water on yourself," scolded Antonio half-heartedly, a wide smile on his face. "The tomatoes are thirsty too!"
Lovino glanced over at Antonio, pouring the water from the hose directly into his mouth. He lowered the hose, wiping his mouth and standing perfectly outlined by the sun. Antonio's heart rate soared, his eyes growing wide. His little brother had grown up so much recently!
"What the hell are you looking at, bastard?" Lovino directed the hose at the tomato plants again, turning away from Antonio. His chestnut hair burned red in the sunlight, framing his new square jaw and high cheekbones. Antonio bit his lip, fighting down the overwhelming urge to run to Lovino and throw his arms around him and swear to protect him with his dying breath.
"You're so cute, Lovi! When did you grow up? I don't think I can call you Boss's little tomato anymore, you're almost as tall as me!" Antonio wiped the sweat from his forehead and set the basket down. He was just about ready to suggest a break.
Lovino simply shook his head and cursed as Antonio trudged off to drag another garden hose over. The heat was pulling them both down, sending the entire world sprawling into a slow motion trudge. Antonio returned, dragging a running hose with him. He began to water a new row ahead of Lovino, working parallel to his favorite colony.
"This is my favorite thing," sighed Antonio, gazing at Lovino lovingly.
"What?"
"This." Antonio gestured to the garden all around him. "Tending the tomato plants, not having to hurt or kill or colonize anyone, spending time with my little Lovi… It's all I think about while I'm away. I sure hope my Boss gets over this whole imperialism thing soon."
Lovino scowled. "Don't call me 'little Lovi'. I'm grown up, now, asswipe."
"But, Lovino! You're my little Lovi!"
"I am not! Stop calling me that and treating me like a little kid still!"
"You may not be a kid anymore, but you're still my little Lovi!"
Lovino growled, clutching the hose in his hands tightly. "Cut it out, will you?"
"But, Lovi! You'll always be my little tomato. My little Lovi. Boss's little Lo- gyah!" Lovino pointed his hose at Antonio, hitting him directly in the chest with the stream of water. The sudden coldness caused Antonio to stumble backwards, eyes wide in shock.
"Cut it out, you big idiot," snapped Lovino.
"Oh, Lovino," grinned Antonio wickedly. "You should know better than to attack the great Kingdom of España. This means war, my friend!"
He directed his own hose at Lovino, who only just barely dodged the stream of water. He managed to soak Lovino's hip, causing Lovino to retaliate with a stream sent directly at Antonio's legs, catching him on the thighs. Antonio charged the other young man, holding his hose out in front of him. Lovino turned and sprinted away, but was unable to prevent his entire back from becoming soaked through. Growling, Lovino tossed a stream of water over his shoulder, and he hit Antonio straight in the face. Antonio laughed and shook the water from his hair like a dog and reached his arms out for Lovino, grasping him by the belt loops. Lovino's foot suddenly caught on something in the dirt, and he tripped, sending both him and Antonio crashing to the ground. Antonio flipped Lovino around so that the Italian lay helpless on his back, crawling on top of him, and poured water from the hose directly into Lovino's face.
"Okay, okay, enough! I give up! I surrender!" spluttered Lovino, spitting water out onto the dusty ground. Antonio lowered the hose to the side away from Lovino, grinned wickedly, and then hit him again, soaking his entire shoulders, neck, and face. "Hey, dick move, assbrain!"
Lovino scrabbled for his own hose, shooting it up into Antonio's face and shoulders. Antonio laughed and blocked the stream of water with his hands, and Lovino lowered the hose, soaking Antonio's torso. Antonio grabbed hold of the hose, and the two men wrestled for it, water flying everywhere in erratic arcs, turning the dirt into mud and their clean white shirts into see-through sopping, dirty messes. Finally, Antonio pried the hose from Lovino's hands. They went still, chests heaving. Antonio held both hoses pointed away from Lovino in a ceasefire.
"I win," he grinned, cocking his head to the side.
"I already surrendered, you jackass," spat Lovino. His soaked bangs clung to his forehead. He pushed them up with one hand.
His face sparkled with water droplets, running down his cheeks and dripping from his square, sharp jaw. His amber eyes somehow glowed with both mirth and annoyance, fixed straight on Antonio's eyes. He was the vision of beauty, his pink lips pressed firmly together in a tight scowl and his dark hair tousled from the water fight. Antonio's eyes flicked down to take in his chest, visible through his soaking wet, low-cut white shirt. The drawstrings were coming loose, allowing for a glimpse at his collarbones and pecks. Strong muscles rippled under flawless tanned skin, covered in shining water droplets, and the hot sun seemed to catch him perfectly, outlining him in bright light, the thousands of droplets turning to crystals. His breathing was ragged, and Antonio was acutely aware of Lovino's lungs rising and falling beneath Antonio's body.
Antonio leapt to his feet and turned around quickly, heat spreading through his face. He had always thought his love for Lovino was closer to that of love for a little brother, strong protective instincts surging against the desire to hold and cuddle. But now, with Lovino's beautiful face fixed into that too-familiar scowl, his perfect, strong body covered in shimmering water… Antonio's heart began to pound out a flamenco. Surely he wasn't… attracted to his little Lovi? Surely that was not the way he loved him, had always loved him, more akin to a husband than a brother? Surely he had not gotten hard from pressing his groin into Lovino's strong, toned stomach and gazing into his beautiful, deep amber eyes? Antonio locked up, something salty settling in the pit of his stomach.
"Oh, wow," he gasped.
Lovino looked pale for a moment, and then he turned red. He scrabbled backwards away from Antonio like a crab and jumped to his feet, whipping his head around madly until his eyes settled on the abandoned wicker baskets full of tomatoes.
"Shit, I should get those fucking tomatoes inside. I'm suddenly really tired I think I'm gonna go to bed now for a long time. A few days. Aren't you leaving for the New World again in a few days oh damnit what a shame I guess I'll miss you I'm gonna go inside now don't follow me, bastardo, Dio mio, goodnight, Antonio." Lovino practically screamed those last words, the climatic ending to his rushed explanation as he fled, sprinting to the house.
"Lovi? It's only noon," Antonio called, frowning.
The back door slammed shut, and Lovino was gone. Antonio ran a hand through his wet hair and tried to calm his breathing. Maybe that was it. Maybe that was what he had been feeling for Lovino all these years. Maybe it wasn't brotherly love he felt for the Italian boy, but romantic love. The more he thought about it, the more horrifyingly appealing the entire arrangement sounded. Living with Lovino forever. Shopping for groceries with Lovino. Going on dates to fancy restaurants with Lovino. Dressing up and going out to parties with Lovino. Drinking wine on the couch and kissing Lovino at three in the morning until they both eventually passed out. Sharing a bed with Lovino. Making love to Lovino. Oh, God, it really wasn't a terrible idea.
Antonio shook off his fantasies with a groan. Something was wrong with Lovino, that much he could tell, and it was Boss's job to make sure Lovino was okay. Antonio got up and jogged to the door. He pried it open, and Lovino, who apparently had been leaning against it, tumbled backwards into Antonio's arms. He screamed and nearly took Antonio's head off trying to regain his balance and back away at the same time.
"Are you okay, Lovi?"
"Perfectly fine," Lovino shouted through gritted teeth.
"You look like you're going to pass out. Are you feeling sick? Do you need to lie down? Was it too hot outside?"
"Oh, it was noth- I, uh, well you see- it was, well, that- that was- um, I don't know what you're talking about, asshole." Lovino's hands wrung his shirt nervously, dripping water onto the floor. Antonio's eyes followed the movement, and he caught sight of a distinctive bulge in the front of Lovino's pants. Oh.
Antonio flexed his thighs, trying to redirect blood flow and praying to God that Lovino didn't make a habit of staring at Antonio's waist as well. If Lovino was also affected by the water fight outside, that must mean the same thoughts going through Antonio's head were going through his.
"Lovino… about what just happened… do you… do you want to talk about it? We can, it's fine."
Panic danced across Lovino's face, quickly replaced by anger, and then despair, and then something Antonio couldn't recognize. "I- I- I don't- chigi!" He tore away through the house, leaving a trail of water droplets behind him.
Antonio had two options. He could chase after Lovino and let him know that everything was okay, or he could let him go off and be a teenager, allowing him to hide from his emotions. It was an easy choice. Antonio followed the water droplet trail.
He knocked gently on Lovino's bedroom door. There was no response. He knocked again, louder this time.
"Go away," came Lovino's muffled voice.
"Lovino." He playfully growled his name out using his Boss Antonio voice. It had mostly fallen out of use since Lovino had grown up, but he pulled it out every now and again for the rare occasions when he really meant whatever order he was issuing. "Open this door, I want to talk to you."
There was a moment of heavy silence, and Antonio was worried that the boy would not answer. Then, he heard scuffling on the other side of the door, and it opened. Lovino's face poked out, still bright red, looking sheepish and confused. "What do you want, jerk," he mumbled.
"Can I come in, please?"
Lovino considered this for a moment, then shrugged, stepping back to allow for Antonio to pass through. He led Lovino over to the bed and sat down, sighing. Lovino was old enough to know about the rules of life. Francis had made sure he was quite aware at an age much younger than Antonio had preferred, but that was ancient history at that point. Lovino probably understood objectively what had happened, but he could not know why, or how, and Antonio knew that it was his job to explain it.
"About what happened out there…"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Lovino." Antonio studied his colony. He was so beautiful, how had he never noticed it before? He was beautiful and wonderful and perfect, with shining amber eyes and pink downturned lips, and he was lithe and strong and tan, and so, so, so beautiful, so beautiful it made Antonio's chest hurt and he gasped slightly, clutching Lovino's wrist. He wanted him, wanted him so badly, wanted to draw him close and feel his breath hot on his skin, wanted to touch him, wanted to kiss him, wanted everything he was willing to give. It was like a dream, because no one this beautiful, this perfect could really exist. Lovino was impossibly magnificent, and Antonio had never noticed it before.
Lovino's face was downturned, looking at Antonio's fingers around his wrist. He drew his right hand up and made the sign of the cross, muttering something under his breath. Antonio caught the word mercy in the prayer.
"What was that for?" Antonio released his grip on Lovino. He had not fully realized he had been holding onto him.
Lovino did not look up. "I've sinned."
"What did you do, Lovi? It's okay, you can tell me."
"I… I don't want to talk about it."
They were silent for a while. All Antonio could hear was the blood pounding in his ears. Then, Lovino made a move to get up, but he did not leave the bed. He seemed glued in place, frozen halfway through an escape attempt.
"It's not a sin, you know," Antonio said suddenly, the pieces clicking together in his mind. "What happened back there. What… what we did. It's normal."
Lovino looked up, his eyes wide. "But the church says-"
Antonio waved his hand. "Lovino, listen to me. Don't ever let somebody shame you into thinking what you are is wrong. Liking… uh, liking men, it's just as normal as liking women. Or you can like both. Or neither. It's all normal!"
Lovino was silent for a moment, the gears turning in his head. When he finally spoke, it was unusually quiet, as if testing the waters. "What do you like, jerkface?"
"Me?" Lovino nodded, his eyes full of something unidentifiable. Antonio chuckled. Why did his preference matter? "Oh, I don't know. I tend to fall for whoever is close to me." Like Lovino. But Lovino, he was different. He was special. He was something else entirely. Antonio loved Lovino. He would give up everything for him. He was completely and utterly in love with him, unlike anyone else.
"Like Emma." It wasn't a question. It was a statement. Lovino looked away, his face hidden by his bangs.
Antonio coughed, surprised. Emma? Did Lovino honestly think he liked Emma? Perhaps at one point, yes, he had been interested in Emma, but that was years ago. Antonio chuckled again, shaking his head and placing his hand on Lovino's shoulder. "Oh, Emma is beautiful, that's for sure. But I'm not in love with her." Antonio could not stop himself from speaking, his voice suddenly gaining intensity, his heart pounding even faster in his chest. "You see, I am in love, that's correct, I think. But I'm in love with someone else. Someone beautiful, and funny, and wonderful. Someone who I'm very attracted to, and who never fails to cheer me up whenever I'm feeling sad." He sighed, tightening his grip on Lovino's shoulder. "Oh, Lovi, isn't it obvious? I think I'm in love with you."
Lovino did not respond, but an entire array of emotions flashed across his beautiful, perfect face, as if he could not settle on just one. After what seemed like an eternity, his eyes filled with fear, and all the color drained from his face. He blurted out something that sounded like, "YousickdisgustingpervertedfreakI'mjustalittlekid" an octave higher than his normal voice and he leapt from the bed. He was out of the room and gone in an instant. The words Antonio had poured from his heart hung in the air, fading steadily into nothing.
Antonio's head dropped. That could've gone better.
Antonio and Lovino spent the next few days avoiding each other like the plague. It wasn't so hard, what with Antonio's house being more akin to a mansion than a cozy Spanish cottage. Lovino kept mostly to his room and the kitchen, sneaking food and alcohol whenever Antonio was most definitely nowhere to be seen. Antonio suddenly found himself intensely intrigued in his other colonies and the obscure parts of his house that he never visited. He had another voyage coming up at the end of the week, and the days were ticking off slowly.
Antonio had too much time to think without the company of Lovino to distract him. For one thing, the impending voyage was filling him with dread, and his Boss was harassing him more than usual in order to make sure everything went as planned. For another, whenever he was idle, Antonio took to remembering his horrifyingly embarrassing encounter with Lovino. He spent days mentally beating himself for being such an idiot, for being smitten with his own colony, for ruining his most treasured relationship in one terrible, inappropriate conversation. Most of all, he thought of how much he missed Lovino. It was hard to appreciate the beautiful Spanish sunshine without his beautiful Italian colony.
At night, when everyone in the house was asleep and the shadows stretched over Antonio's room, he thought of Lovino. It wasn't always white hot lust, although that was a common fantasy- Lovino sighing into Antonio's skin, Lovino taking Antonio's length in his mouth, Lovino moaning as Antonio showed him exactly how strongly he felt about him. Sometimes, it was more innocent, sweet romantic visions of Lovino smiling his tiny smile at Antonio's jokes, Lovino stroking Antonio's face with the gentle hands of an artist, Lovino laughing and whispering sweet nothings back and forth with Antonio in the dim light of the moon. The fantasies were two sides of the same coin; all Antonio wanted in the world was Lovino. Wonderful, beautiful, perfect, special Lovino.
Antonio was set to leave for the voyage the next day, and he still had barely seen Lovino at all. He had sorted out his feelings in the past few days, but he did not know if Lovino would allow him to explain himself. His intentions were pure- he loved Lovino more than anything, and all he wanted was his happiness. If that came with a complete and outright rejection, Antonio was prepared to wait forever for Lovino to choose him. And if he never did, as long as Lovino was happy, Antonio was satisfied.
The final dinner the night before passed without incident. As Antonio excused himself to turn into bed early, he felt a twinge in his heart. He would not be able to say goodbye to Lovino. If something unthinkable happened while he was out voyaging, the last conversation he would have had with his favorite little tomato would be a painfully awkward and bitter way to end their acquaintance. He considered knocking on Lovino's door and bidding him farewell, but thought better of it. Lovino probably didn't want to see him.
He turned down the hall to go to his room, but leapt backwards crying out as he almost walked directly into a shadowy figure. The figure stepped into the light, revealing themselves.
"Lovino! You scared the living shit out of me!" Antonio gasped, clutching his heart. "What are you doing lurking in the shadows like that?"
Lovino looked down at his feet, his face a light shade of pink. "I, uh… I just wanted to say, godspeed, Antonio. I… hope you don't die."
Antonio grinned. Lovino cared about him after all! He wrapped his arms around the Italian boy and lifted him off the ground, swinging him around in circles. "My little Lovi cares about me! Wow! I'm so happy I could cry! And here I thought you hated me because I creeped you out! I'm so happy you don't want me to die because that means you don't hate me! Yahoo! Oh man, I'm so happy right now!"
"Hey, bastard, I can't breathe," choked Lovino. Antonio set him back down on the ground with a quick apology. "I never said I don't hate you. I just said I hope you don't die. Who would-a cook for me if that happened, huh?"
Antonio's face nearly split in half from smiling so wide. He had spent all week agonizing over Lovino, dreaming of talking to him again in that too-big house, and here he was, conversing as if nothing had happened. Of course, a great mist of awkwardness hung in the air, but Antonio was too dense to sense it. He was simply ecstatic that Lovino was talking to him again.
"I promise I'll bring you back tomatoes from America," said Antonio, ruffling Lovino's hair. Lovino tried to hide a smile.
"Yeah, okay." His faced burned a darker shade of pink. "Hey, uh, Tonio… about the other day…"
Antonio held up a hand. "I should really apologize for that. I do not know what got in to me, and it was completely inappropriate. I take back everything. Let's just pretend it never happened, okay?"
Lovino's expression flashed into something unreadable by Antonio. He nodded slowly. "Yeah, okay. That's… that's fine. That's good. Let's do that. It never happened."
"Yup! Not at all!" Antonio clasped his hands together. "Please forgive me?"
"It never happened, Tonio," snapped Lovino, his face creeping into a magnificent shade of magenta. "There's nothing to forgive."
"But please say you forgive me! If I go away to the New World and I have to spend the entire time thinking about how my little Lovi never forgave me for my idiocy, it would be agony. Please say you forgive me, amigo."
Lovino seemed to flinch ever so subtly at the word amigo. He nodded again, his face twisted into a grimace. "Fine, fine. I forgive you, idiot."
A grin spread across Antonio's face. He threw his arms around Lovino again, pulling him into a tight embrace. He smelt like soap and tomatoes and garden dirt and something dark and musky. Antonio breathed in deeply before exclaiming, "Muchas gracias! Oh, Lovi, I'm so happy I could cry!"
Lovino shoved him off. "Well, don't cry on me, bastard. Shouldn't you be getting to bed? You have to leave early tomorrow, right?"
"That's right! You're right! Looking out for Boss, are we? You can't hide your heart of gold, Lovino." Antonio winked at him, sending Lovino's already worrying facial color completely off the charts. He lit up bright scarlet, biting his lip. Antonio was not sure why he was reacting in such a way, but the wiles of Lovino Vargas were truly a mystery, and even he could not crack every single case.
"Agh, just go to bed, idiot," he grumbled, shoving past him. There seemed to be something unsaid hanging in the air. Antonio could not tell what it was, but he had the overwhelming urge to reach out and grab Lovino's arm and pull him into a sweet, tender goodbye kiss.
He did not. He watched him go, and then turned and disappeared into his own room. After all, he loved Lovino so much it hurt, but if Lovino was not ready, he would wait. He had no interest in making him uncomfortable if he could help it. That's what you do when you love someone, Antonio figured- you put their needs before your own.
Anyways, his days of forcing his will were over. He had a bright future in front of him in this life away from imperialist colonization. This was the life spent with Lovino. This was the life he wanted to lead. If that meant hiding away the brunt of his feelings forever, Antonio was willing to do it for Lovino's sake. This was a good life; he wanted to keep it.
Shall I stay?
Would it be a sin?
If I can't help falling in love with you
Chapter Title: Can't Help Falling in Love by Elvis Presley