(A/N):
Okay, I am sorry for such a long delay in chapters. I am also sorry how short this chapter is.
I finally managed to completely flesh out the story and characters, so expect more frequent chapters, as most of them are already written.
Think of this as a small interlude, since the plot will not be progressing more steadily.
"We're out of food bastardo," Lovino grumbled, sifting through the cupboards much more tenderly this time around. Not turning his focus away from the paper, Alfred just gave a small noise in acknowledgment. Crossing his arms, the Italian continued to mutter incoherent curses. "Without food, we don't eat. And I'm hungry."
"Okay, well let me go straight to the grocers get food with all the money we don't have." With a sigh, Alfred snapped and folded the paper, turning his body towards Lovino.
"Oh, trying to be a fucking wise guy, well isn't that great, testa de mierda."
"Come on Lil' buddy, we're facin' some hard times. If ya really are that hungry, maybe ya could think about gettin' yourself a job?"
Lovino threw his hands up in annoyance. "Si, of course! Why didn't I think of that! Obviously keeping my head down means to go out in public and make a name for myself. Alfredo, you are molto saggio!"
Alfred placed his hand over his heart in mock hurt. "Geez, your sarcasm really pierces me, right in the ticker. And the name's Alfred, lil' buddy."
"Che! And my name's Lovino, Alfredo. Again, I am not little and I am not your buddy."
"And I'm not some kinda pasta," Alfred whined. "Alright, alright I get it. You get cranky when you're hungry, but don't take it out on me."
Lovino paused at the comment, his face contorting into an odd expression. "I'm not a women," his voice was hushed now.
"Yeah yeah, sure ya ain't a dame. You cook, clean, an' don't work. Definitely a real mans man." Laughing at his own joke, Alfred trailed off into an awkward grunt when he noticed the Italian's face. "C-come on lil' buddy, I was only jokin'."
Lovino just brushed the comment aside with a 'whatever,' and continued to look through the empty cupboards. Getting up from his seat, Alfred made his way to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Get off of me," Lovino muttered, trying in vain to shrug of the American.
"I'm sorry Lovino, I went a little overboard."
The irate Italian simply grunted a response, clenching the counter until his knuckles turned white. "When is Mathew supposed to be back from the store?"
Giving a sigh, Alfred propped himself up on the counter, his feet scraping the floor. "In a few minutes or, so I guess… I dunno though. Lately he's been takin his sweet time." Giving a small chuckle, Alfred turned his eyes towards the ceiling. "I got a feelin my Mattie might be sweet on some gal."
Raising his eyebrows, Lovino scoffed at Alfred's words. "You're kidding me? I didn't expect him to have an amorous bone in his body."
"Come on lil buddy, Mattie may be a pushover, but that don't mean he doesn't know how to woo those dames."
Lovino was prepared to retort, but was interrupted by the sound of the door opening. Matthew came in; arms filled with groceries, and faint blush lingering on his cheeks.
"S-sorry I'm late, it took me awhile with these bags," he mumbled as he set them down on the kitchen table.
Alfred just patted him on the back, and started the thankful task of refilling the barren kitchen. Lovino just shook his head at the blonde's obliviousness, yet refrained from commenting, not wanting to damage the now pleasant atmosphere.
"Wow Mattie, ya sure got a lot of stuff!" Though, Alfred's enthusiasm quickly waned as he asked, "How'd we afford all this?"
Matthew's blush deepened as he mumbled something about sales and other nonsensical things. Alfred just raised an eyebrow at his brother's odd behavior, while Lovino watched with mild amusement.
"Anyways… I, um, got those tomatoes you wanted, Lovino. They looked pretty fresh."
Nodding his head, the Italian walked over to the fruits, turning them over in his hands. "Nice, I guess. Not as good as the fresh ones Antonio used to buy," he stated begrudgingly.
Matthew paused, his eyes widening for a fraction of a second. "An-Antonio…?" he trailed off, unsure what to say.
Lovino shot Matthew a quizzical look. "Yeah, the bastard Carriedo raised me for a short time, if you could even call it that. Why, you know him?"
"Ah, no… no, just was curious," he said as he deflected the question.
The tension was cut by the ever-oblivious Alfred, who asked, "Can you cook Lovino?"
Rolling his eyes, Lovino scoffed, "Of course I can cook Alfredo."
"You like her~" Alfred practically sang, casting a sly look at his brother. "Mattie and Katyusha, sittin' in a tree k-i-s-," the boisterous blonde was cut off by a very firm hand connecting to the back of his skull.
"Stop it Al, we're just friends." Matthew let out a tired sigh and walked past his still dazed brother.
Skipping along completely unfazed, Alfred continued, "Right, an' I'm the king of France! Ya two were makin' those lovey eyes at each other!"
Matthew just rolled his eyes and began to pick up his pace. Thinking back, he knew Alfred was bound to find out… he just seemed privy to such small details, though completely oblivious to everything else. And, with their new houseguest's affinity for cooking, Matthew was constantly making more and more trips to the grocers. The same grocers where Katyusha worked. Every Tuesday through Saturday. From seven to six. With a half hour lunch break… He shook his head vehemently to clear his train of thought.
"You okay Mattie?" Alfred's quizzical expression reminded him that only he heard his internal monologue.
Waving him off, Matthew just shook his head. "Geez Al, I'm fine. And anyways, how long is Lovino supposed to stay with us? I mean, it has been nice to not do the cooking every day, but I'm getting worried that the longer we let him stay, the more trouble he's going to bring."
"Nice change in subject Mattie. Kudos to ya. And so what, I'm sure Lovino won't be too much of a bother. He seems to know how ta keep his head low!"
"Alfred. He had to flee Italy, come to America, and they are still chasing him. He has definitely angered the wrong group of people. And I would guess they aren't your average bootleggers." With a sigh, Matthew stopped walking and looked towards Alfred. "It's the Italian mafia Al. You know it. I know it. His brother even knows it. We are going to be stuck between a rock and a hard place soon Al, Lovino is a time bomb for trouble."
Alfred continued to walk on, causing Matthew to quicken his pace to catch up. "Well what do ya want me ta to Mattie? Kick him out on the streets, allow those people to come an' snatch him away to hell? Ya know he doesn't stand a chance against those enemies…" He paused in his speech but kept his stride steady. "But Mattie, if you feel too threatened because of this…If ya really want ta… You can kick him out. But fer now, I ain't gonna do that."
Shaking his head, Matthew turned his eyes towards the pavement. And, in a hushed tone, he whispered, "I don't want to do that either Al, I don't want to do that either."
