So, I made a chapter by chapter outline of this story on my phone. Then my phone crashed and I had to make a new outline. So, yeah, that was a pain. Everything is basically the same, though, I tend to remember things that I write down. Anyway, I can now tell you for certain how long this story is going to be! You know, unless I change something. It should be seventeen chapters with an epilogue/ bonus M rated chapter at the end.

CHAPTER 4

The apartment was now littered with boxes that they had no place for. Feliciano asked at one point if Gilbert and Ludwig had put their furniture in storage until they'd found a place of their own, since it seemed that furniture was the only thing they hadn't carried with them. They claimed that they didn't have furniture. Romano asked Feliciano what the hell that was supposed to mean, why wouldn't they have furniture? Feliciano didn't know either. He wanted to question further, but Romano thought they probably shouldn't.

Romano took it upon himself to dictate the sleeping arrangements. Two people were going to have to share a bed, unless someone wanted to take the couch, which no one did. Gilbert outright refused to share a bed with his brother, not that Romano really blamed him. He imagined Ludwig taking up three quarters of any one of their beds all by himself. Romano wouldn't allow either of the Germans to touch his brother. Or him, for that matter, but they were probably just as opposed to the idea. So, Gilbert took Antonio's room and Ludwig took Feliciano's, because their damn germs were already on those sheets anyway. Feliciano and Romano shared Romano's bed.

Romano woke up early in the morning so he would have time to make some fresh magdalenas and churros before opening the café. Though it took all his will to crawl out of bed, one of Romano's favorite things about working in Antonio's shop was when he could cook and bake while everyone else was still asleep, when the sun was barely rising. The world was at a standstill, but he was bustling. The air was cool from the waning night, and the day just seemed so pure and tranquil. But then, sooner or later, someone had to wake up.

"You sing while you cook?" came a sudden voice that nearly made Romano drop his mixing bowl. "That's...surprising."

Romano whirled around to find Gilbert leaning against the door frame and rolling up his sleeves. Romano hadn't known he'd been singing, but that wasn't what bothered him. He was prepared to say something, but he was struck by the outfit that Gilbert had on and completely forgot what it had been. The man before him was wearing a white dress shirt, its buttons taut against his chest and stomach, tucked neatly into fitted black slacks and a leather belt. The punk was gone, and here was a gentleman. Romano had always liked nice, fashionable clothes, but now he really started to appreciate what they could do for someone. "Wow," he breathed, realizing too late what had just escaped him.

Gilbert looked up from adjusting his sleeve, his brows raised and creasing his forehead. He broke out in a cocky grin. "What was that?"

"Nothing."

He chuckled. "Do I look that amazing?"

"Your clothes are wrinkled," Romano said, though that had been the last detail he'd noticed. "Why are you dressed like that, anyway?"

Gilbert grabbed a chair from against the wall and sat down beside one of the steel work tables. "They were packed, of course they're wrinkled. And since I'm going to be the one taking orders and serving people, I figured I should look like I actually work here."

Romano was quick to point out that Gilbert didn't actually work there. "You're not getting paid for any of this. You volunteered." Also, Romano and Antonio never wore clothes like that for the café. They always dressed nicely, but not so formally, and not in uniform black and white. Though...looking at Gilbert...Romano couldn't say that he minded that much.

He shook his head furiously and set his mind on work, spooning the magdalena mixture into a muffin pan, placing it in the oven, preparing the deep-fryer. Gilbert just sat there. He didn't say anything and he didn't get up from his seat, he just kept watching Romano. That was going to get old really quickly. What did he want? If he was simply bored and wanted to chat, he was going to be disappointed. Romano didn't want to talk to him.

Well, considering talking might make things less uncomfortable, it might be a good idea. Except Romano wasn't sure how to talk to him. He didn't know him well enough for this to come naturally, and he was generally awful at starting conversations.

He tried. "Why are you up so early? The café doesn't open for a while."

Gilbert shrugged. "You're up, so..."

Well, that was a pathetic attempt. And that answer didn't even explain anything. Annoyed, Romano went about piping strips of churro dough into the fryer in silence. Gilbert was unconcerned. He rested his elbow on the table beside him and supported his head in his hand, still staring. As Romano held the pastry bag above the boiling hot oil he was aware that his hands were shaking. This was so fucking awkward.

There had to be something they could talk about. Romano didn't want to talk about himself, because he wasn't all that interesting and he didn't want to sound self-absorbed. He was reluctant to ask questions about Gilbert, because that could easily come across as nosy or flirtatious. But there was one question that had been pestering him that still hadn't gotten answered. It seemed like a safe enough question, and Antonio had told him to go to Gilbert about it if he really wanted to know.

Romano glanced over his shoulder and asked, "So, why did you decide to move out here all of a sudden?" From the look on Gilbert's face, Romano figured that wasn't a good question at all.

"A few different reasons," Gilbert mumbled, looking around the room. He explained that Ludwig was transferring to a new school, which happened to be the same school that Feliciano was going to, and how he'd been out of work for a while and thought that he should find a new job in a new town. He avoided details about why they'd left their old place so abruptly after getting out of what he kept referring to as a "bad situation".

"Situation?"

"...Relationship."

"Oh."

Neither of them said anything more about the subject. In a way, nothing else needed to be said.

Romano gave up on conversation and told Gilbert that if he wanted to be useful he should go restock the bathrooms and clean the dining area. It was busywork. Romano had already done all those things the night before, but at least it would get Gilbert out of the kitchen until the café opened. Romano expected Gilbert to catch on to what he was doing, but he figured he'd just pretend to wipe tables or something. Instead, Gilbert came back a few minutes later to tell him that he'd been looking at the silverware for some fucking reason and it needed to be polished.

Romano didn't doubt it. He had to polish the cutlery regularly, because water spots would always build up, especially on the spoons. Even though they were perfectly clean, it was unsightly, and customers might complain. Romano checked the clock. They didn't have enough time to polish all the utensils before they opened now. Romano asked Gilbert to take the worst looking ones out and hide them in the kitchen. Hopefully they could get through the day without incident and Romano could just polish them after closing.

In the time that they had left, Romano was able to finish up in the kitchen while Gilbert organized the silverware holders. They opened at six o'clock, keeping the arrangement they'd had the day before: Gilbert stayed at the front and took care of customers, and Romano stayed in the back and took care of food and drinks. Gilbert was as upbeat and cheerful as he'd been the first day. Customers liked him. He had a good-natured spirit that drew others to him. Kind of like Antonio—only louder.

Dammit, Antonio had only left yesterday and Romano already missed him. He really needed to stop thinking about him, but that was difficult when a certain German kept reminding Romano of him. The way that Romano and Gilbert cooperated in the shop was the same way Romano and Antonio had done things. Gilbert was confident and at ease working the front end in a way that almost made Romano jealous, exactly like Antonio. But Gilbert wasn't Antonio, and he couldn't replace him. That just made Romano miss his friend more.

Gilbert moved with abounding energy, and Romano wasn't used to that. Antonio was much more easy-going. Gilbert had this overwhelming, demanding presence that Romano could feel even from the kitchen and, honestly, it was intimidating.

And then there were moments when Gilbert behaved like a silly little kid and Romano didn't know whether to chastise him or simply give in. Romano didn't leave the kitchen unless he was taking an order out, and then he'd typically pass it to Gilbert to serve and slip back inside. So, it caught Gilbert's interest when Romano was being very protective of the latte that one lady had ordered and chose to carefully pass the cup to her himself. He peered over Romano's shoulder at the foam pattern freshly etched into the coffee. "Whoa!" he exclaimed, eyes wide with amazement. "It's a butterfly! That's so cool!"

Romano's chest swelled from the praise, but he wasn't too enthusiastic when Gilbert started asking him to show him how to make latte art. "It's hard to do. It takes a lot of practice."

"I'm sure I can get it. You just pour milk or cream or whatever and draw a picture, right?"

"It's microfoam." Gilbert clearly had no idea what that was. "Steamed milk. And it requires technique and precision, you can't just fucking pour it in."

"Teach me!" His eagerness and determination were tiresome...but...strangely endearing. Romano gave in.

There wasn't a line at the register at that moment, so he took Gilbert into the back and explained how to dose and tamp coffee to brew a good shot of espresso. Freshly ground coffee, always. Into the basket, brush off the excess with one finger. Press the grinds. Be sure not to hit the tamp against the basket when you're finished, because that defeats the whole fucking purpose of tamping. Gilbert started to say that he wasn't interested in any of that, he just wanted to know how to make the pretty designs. Romano told him to shut up and listen, because if he was going to teach him he was going to teach him right.

As they waited for the espresso to drip through, Gilbert said, "It's kind of funny when you think that we've both known Antonio for years but never met each other until just the other day."

Romano wasn't sure if that was funny. It was life. "How long have you been friends with Antonio?"

"We met in high school, so about ten years? We even went to the same college for a little bit. Till he decided he was going to own a café and dropped out."

Romano remembered that. He hadn't been able to see Antonio when he was away at college. That had sucked. Antonio told them that he was going to major in business, and they all tried to imagine him in a stiff suit sitting in some dismal office and they instantly knew it wasn't going to work out. A year and a half later Antonio was a dropout and working hard to save money and follow his dream, which was much more like the Antonio that Romano knew. That had been a long time ago, but Romano remembered it all vividly. Gilbert had never been there.

"I'm guessing Antonio never talked about that?"

"No." Romano started to feel like there was a lot Antonio had never talked to him about, and it bothered him.

"Well, he always talked about you guys. He used to babysit Feli, didn't he?"

"Yeah..."

That was probably the reason, at least in part. For years, Romano had just been the brother of the kid that Antonio babysat. They'd known each other. Romano liked to think that they'd been friends then, but they hadn't been exactly close. At that time, Antonio was friends with Gilbert, and other people Romano didn't know. But Romano's grandpa really liked Antonio. The two of them got along very well, and Antonio came over to their house a lot even after Feli was old enough to not need a babysitter. It wasn't until after the brothers had moved in with him that Romano and Antonio got to know each other better, and by that time Gilbert and Antonio had different lives. Still, it was just dawning on Romano that he didn't know Antonio as well as he'd thought.

Antonio had other friends, other people in his life who knew stories about him that Romano had never heard. They knew a completely different side of him that Romano would never see. What had Antonio been like in high school? College? Had he been a good student? A troublemaker? Who had he dated? Which class had been his favorite? Romano didn't know any of these things, because Antonio had never told him. Because Antonio never told him anything about himself, and Romano didn't understand why.

The espresso was ready, and Romano tried to show Gilbert how to prepare the milk, but Gilbert couldn't keep quiet for one fucking minute. "What time does Feli-cakes get home today?"

"Feliciano gets home after one. Are you paying attention?"

"Where is he all the time?"

"He's going to college. Now, look—"

"Oh, really? What's he studying?"

"He's still doing mostly basics right now, but he wants to go into some kind of art thing." Romano had the habit of tuning his brother out when he talked about his life goals, so the only thing that he was certain of was it had something to do with art. Freelance painter, maybe. Something like that. Romano sought to direct Gilbert back to making lattes, without success.

"What about you?"

"What about me?" Romano asked.

"Why don't you go to school?"

"I went to school," he said. "I completed my basics. After that, I just didn't go back."

"Why not?"

Because I'm a loser who can't make major life decisions. Outwardly, he shrugged. "I don't like school."

"Well," Gilbert pondered a moment, "at least you've got a pretty nice job."

The only problem was that Romano didn't want to work at fucking Coffee Café until he was old and decrepit. He'd been out of school for so long, though, that at this point he was afraid to go back, and he still wasn't confident that he could make the right career choice. How was he supposed to decide what he wanted to do? He wasn't good at anything, certainly not the way that Feli was good at art, and getting stuck doing one thing for the rest of his life sounded like torture.

After a bit, Gilbert said, "Okay...what are we doing again?"

"Oh, now you want to know what we're doing." He swore that he wanted to learn, but Romano was skeptical. "Did you hear anything I said about steaming the milk?"

He stared blankly at the coffee machine. "Umm...we, uhh...purge...something..." Romano rolled his eyes with a sigh. "Wait! I remember!"

"Be careful with the steam wand," he said, watching Gilbert fiddle with the lever. Gilbert jumped back with a yelp when scalding water came spurting out. "Dammit, I said be careful!"

Romano pushed the lever back and rushed Gilbert and his wounded hand to soak in the sink. He kept a hold on Gilbert's wrist and examined the damage. It wasn't bad. His palm around the thumb was red and slightly swollen, but it wasn't likely to blister. It would fade away in a day or so. "Did you get burnt anywhere else?"

Gilbert bit his lip and shook his head.

Being in the kitchen so often, Romano had more than enough experience dealing with burns. Let lukewarm water wash over the injured area for approximately one minute. He counted the seconds in his head, but started to lose track as he noticed Gilbert studying him. "Your disguise is failing."

"What?" Romano asked.

"You're not nearly as mean as you try to be."

He released Gilbert's hand and stepped away. Who the hell did this guy think he was, acting like he knew anything about him? It didn't matter if Antonio had ever talked about him, that wasn't the same thing.

He told Gilbert his hand was fine and he should probably get back to the register. He said that he thought he heard the shopkeeper's bell, which wasn't true, but Gilbert ought to get back to the front all the same. He was beginning to make Romano regret choosing to indulge him. Gilbert gave him a puzzled look, but he left quietly and the two of them went back to working in their separate spaces, as they should.

~.~.~.~

"What do you think of Gilbert?"

Romano raised an eyebrow at his brother. Feliciano was in the kitchen with him so that he could do the two things he liked to do most after just getting home from school: eat and bug his older brother. He had stolen Romano's stove top so that he could make pasta, even though they had a perfectly good kitchen with a fully functioning stove in the apartment. And what the hell was with that question? That had come out of nowhere. Romano wasn't sure what he was supposed to say. "I don't hate him."

"That's good," Feli said brightly.

He didn't say anything for a while after that, but Romano knew there had to be more to it. He watched his brother stir the pasta sauce out of the corner of his eye. Sometimes Feli just said random things that came to his head without offering any context, but Romano sensed that this wasn't one of those moments.

"What do you think of Ludwig?"

There it was. Romano clacked his tongue and glared at the far wall. "If you're going to ask for my blessing, save your breath."

Feliciano was shocked and a little embarrassed that Romano had figured out that he liked Ludwig. Romano didn't know why, he was so fucking obvious. He'd seen the way he hovered around the macho German, touchier than he usually was, just to the point of being notable. When Feliciano asked, Romano said he didn't care if he went after Ludwig. Which was a lie, Romano cared very much, but Feliciano wasn't going to listen to him if he told him not to do it, so what was the point? Whether or not Feliciano could tell that Romano wasn't being honest, he seemed happy. And that was that.

Romano found out that the pasta was for Ludwig and Feliciano to eat together. That knowledge made the entire kitchen feel tainted and Romano had to step out for a minute. His brother and the German bastard ate in the café, as if they were trying to rub their stupid budding romance in Romano's face. He was glad when they finished and got up to leave, until Feliciano turned back and called out to Gilbert, saying, "Oh! I talked to Romano, and he said he doesn't hate you. Which in Romano-speak means he likes you!"

"That's not fucking true! Stai zitto!"

Gilbert watched their younger brothers head off down the street with a smile. "They seem to really get along, huh?" Romano made a disgruntled noise. "What's wrong with it?"

Romano considered it his job to disapprove of anyone who was involved with his little brother on principle and didn't think that he needed a reason. Though, he did have a few. "They just look weird together. Your brother's so big and muscular and serious, and Feli's so...Feli! It freaks me out!"

He laughed. "That's not a very good reason for two people not to be together."

Well, it would have to do for now. Romano had another reason for being upset, but he didn't want to say it out loud. He brooded over it alone in the kitchen for the rest of the afternoon. He knew he shouldn't be, but he was jealous of his brother. Part of him had always wished he could be a little more like Feliciano. Not a clone, but a little more open, a little more gifted, a little surer of himself. Feli had his whole life together and never seemed to have any worries. And to top it all off, he was capable of forming actual, decent relationships. Friendship. Romance. What Romano wouldn't give to have that.

What he had with Antonio was somewhere between friendship and romance. It wasn't normal. It probably wasn't good for his health, either. But Romano had kept it all to himself for so long that he didn't know how to fix the situation anymore. He and Antonio would just keep going on like they had been until...until something happened. Romano wasn't sure where they were heading.

Around closing time, Gilbert found Romano in the back of the kitchen clutching his aching chest and wanted to know what was wrong. He was frantic, most likely believing Romano was suffering a heart attack. Romano had never had a heart attack, but he imagined this pain was basically the same thing. Romano told him multiple times to leave him alone, but he refused.

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's wrong."

"Fine."

If it would get Gilbert to stop pestering him, Romano would tell him. It took a lot to force it out, and Romano very nearly broke into tears doing so. He left out anything about Antonio, but he confessed how he feared he was going nowhere in life, that he often wondered if he was hopeless. Gilbert listened intently as he told him that he sometimes felt paralyzed by his lack of direction and indecision. He gave Romano a stern look the moment he stopped and asked, "How old are you?"

"Twenty-two," Romano answered, confused.

"That's how you're supposed to feel at your age. It makes you work harder," he said. "Trust me, everyone feels that way at twenty-two. Hell, I still feel that way, and I'm four years older than you." Romano hadn't expected Gilbert, of all people, to understand his insecurities. "You can't let that stuff keep you down, though. You do what you have to. If you need to take time to figure things out, then that's okay, but don't just sit around doing nothing about it."

Gilbert was not the type of person to speak in eloquent or profound speeches. Romano understood all the things he told him without him saying them, but he appreciated Gilbert taking the time to say them anyway. Sometimes, he just needed to hear those words from someone else for them to have an effect. After taking a moment, Romano muttered a thank you. It sounded obliged, and in part it was.

Gilbert opened his arms. "Do you want a hug?"

"No, not really."

"Okay." He opted for a pat on the shoulder, which Romano allowed.

After they closed shop, Gilbert headed upstairs to the apartment. Romano wrestled with what he was about to say, waiting till Gilbert was almost out of view to call him back and ask if he'd stay a little bit longer. "The silverware still needs to be polished, and, I mean, you don't have to help if you don't want to, but..."

Of course Gilbert didn't want to. Romano was an idiot for asking. He was just thinking that he might be able to get along with Gilbert after all, and it wasn't a terrible idea to show that he didn't mind spending time with him. Gilbert was probably worn out and didn't want to be around Romano anymore that day, and Romano could certainly understand.

Gilbert smiled at him. "Sure."

I was looking at the profiles that Himaruya made for all the Hetalia characters, and somehow I got the human ages just about spot-on. Had no idea what they were officially beforehand, and I wasn't even trying to be accurate. According to him, Spain is 25 (He's actually 26 in this story, and so is Gilbert, who Himaruya hasn't given an official age), Romano is 22-23, and Germany is 20. Italy is also supposed to be 20, but I've already made him 19. Oh well.

*Chapters 4-7 were beta'd by TheSupernova!