Tsvetan- Bulgaria
Alin- Romania
Andrei- Moldova
…
This one's loosely based on the song 'missing you' by Christy Moore and contains some robul too. It also contains Hungary and Romania hating each other despite living on opposite ends of a continent and never having met.
Thrown in some nyotalia to mix things up a bit.
…
"Hey watch out!"
Daniél jumped back as a metal pole swung past, nearly taking his eye out. Tsvetan grinned over apologetically at him, setting the thing down before it could do any real damage.
"Sorry," he said, "lost my balance."
"It's okay," Daniél shrugged, sitting down on the wooden floor and opening his tin lunch box. Inside were a few, rather battered, sandwiches and an apple, and the young builder couldn't help but sigh. He missed Roderich's cooking.
"Well, if you're taking your lunch break now, I might just join you," Tsvetan sat down beside him, swinging his legs over the side of the scaffolding and took out a flask and a chunk of bread.
"I could do with the company," Daniél admitted. Although he and Tsvetan lived together as well as worked together, they still felt relatively comfortable in each other's company, once they got over the initial dislike. A couple of incidents of getting under each other's toes, and the two young men were at each other's throats, earning a rather tense trip to the foreman's office.
Still, that was all in the past. Now they were good friends, and found they had a certain something in common.
"Any word from your man?" asked Tsvetan.
Daniél nodded. "Got a letter last night. He's doing well apparently."
"And the kid?"
"Franz is good," Daniél grinned, "saying his first words and all! …Wish I was there."
"Well they'll soon be joining you, right?"
Daniél shook his head. "How can I bring them here? Everything's a mess! With all the money I'm sending them, I barely have enough for myself. They're better off where they are."
"In poverty?" Tsvetan raised an eyebrow.
"Well what do you think this is?"
"At least we have hope!"
"We don't," Daniél looked down, "sometimes I think this can all work out, but I've been here for months and nothing's changed."
"This isn't like the Daniél I know and have a mild affection for," Tsvetan commented, "where's your optimism?"
Daniél shrugged. "It's escaped me today."
"It'll be back tomorrow. I know you."
"If you say so…" There was a calm silence between them as the pair watched people walk past the street in front of them. More builders bustled past them, carrying bags of plaster and cement. Above them, someone hammered slates into the roof.
"And how are your family?" Daniél asked eventually, "back home?"
"Alin's still getting into trouble," Tsvetan sighed and shook his head, "I don't know how Andrei puts up with him."
"Alin sounds like a dick, to be honest."
"He's all right!" Tsvetan laughed, "I bet you'd like him if you met him!"
Daniél wrinkled his nose. "I doubt it."
"Well I got used to him!"
"I bet you did."
"Honestly," Tsvetan rolled his eyes, "those two morons are my family! I have three kids with Alin!"
"Do you miss them?"
"Of course," Tsvetan rested his chin against the railing as his bottom lip trembled.
"You'll see them again." Daniél reached over and awkwardly patted his friend's back.
"I know. To be honest, I was thinking of inviting them over soon."
"You can't!" Daniél exclaimed, almost dropping his lunch box.
"Why not?"
"The flat's a mess and there's barely enough room for us, let alone five more people!"
"We'll think of something," Tsvetan shrugged, "I just want to see my family again. Maybe if they're here and I don't have to send money to them, and if Alin gets a job too, then we could buy a bigger place!"
"But what about me?"
"Bring Roderich and Franz over and do the same."
"It's impractical," Daniél glanced down at his sandwiches and pulled a face, "though it would be nice to taste Roderich's cakes again."
…
That night, the two friends trudged into their studio flat, exhausted and covered in plaster powder. Daniél wiped dirt from his baggy jeans and shuffled straight over to his sofa-bed, diving under the blankets and pulling out a notebook.
Tsvetan said nothing as he took two ready-meals out of the fridge to put in the microwave; the pair took turns in making dinner each night.
With nothing to do for the next five minutes, Daniél began to write to his husband. He glanced around at their messy, dusty, grim flat, sighed loudly, and pulled a pencil out of his shirt pocket. It didn't take long to decide what to write: the same false, censored drivel he always wrote in an attempt to shield the truth from his loved one.
My dearest Roderich,
All is going well, thank you. How have you been? How is Franz doing?
I am having a wonderful time here. I'm making lots of friends and lots of money, which I hope is helping you two. I have a lovely house here, and cannot wait for you two to join me. Hopefully that will be soon, but I cannot say for sure.
It's wonderful to hear that Franz is growing up so fast! And speaking! Although 'kunst' is a very odd first word. He hasn't forgotten his Daddy, has he?
I'll try to visit if I get some time off work. Might take a while though. I don't think I'll be back in time for Christmas even. My apologies.
Things will get better though.
Lots of love,
Daniél
It wasn't enough, but at least it wasn't the truth. Daniél loved Roderich with all his heart, but was terrified of being a failure in his eyes. He knew he honestly could never be- Roderich was equally devoted to him- but Daniél still felt like a failure. He couldn't even give his husband and child a decent home and life!
Still, Daniél was a positive young man, and hoped that- one day- things would get better and they could be a family again.
With that thought in mind, he ripped the page out of the notebook and stuffed it in an envelope with a few tattered notes.
