Antonio

At least a week had passed since the incident with Lovino and his crew. His wounds were healing. He had regained plenty of his mobility. His moods had even improved slightly. But one thing hadn't changed. The Captain was cruel to him. At any moment he had, he sent the boy to do more work. Scrub the deck, do the dishes, take stock of the cargo down below. He wanted to see the boy in his cabin as seldom as possible. He had been held up there, 'working', for many days. He was avoiding Lovino and drinking to his heart's content. He hadn't resorted to old habits, and he found that as time passed and he fell deeper into drunken oblivion, that he couldn't face the kid. He brought about too many unwanted memories. He was ashamed of himself, but he could do nothing of it. The bottle called to him. It was a comfort after a rough day. It was a necessity.

The door to his cabin crashed open and his head shot up. In walked Gilbert and Francis. He sighed and put down the bottle that resided in his hand before rubbing his eyes wearily.

"What are you two still doing here?" he asked with a resigned sigh. "I could have sworn you went on with your ships yesterday morning."

"We did, and now we're back, mon copain," Francis said, sitting with a flourish that defined him.

"You're going out tonight. You've been hiding inside of your room for days, and I don't see how that is awesome. And it's all because of what? Some kid? Get up. We're going to port. Bring the crew, bring the kid. Do something!" Gilbert demanded.

"I'm staying right here, and so is my crew. We're going to Tortuga to get supplies, then I have plans to attack a ship from the British Royal Navy before I head to the Land's End to meet Augustus in four weeks time."

"You can do that any other day. They're always sending their shit ships out of Port Royal," the albino protested.

"Besides, you have four weeks until that rendezvous. You should relax in Tortuga for that time. Have some work done on Anna Maria? After that battle with the British, she could use a bit of love," Francis persuaded.

Antonio looked at them both with hardened emerald eyes. "I'm attacking that ship, and that is final."

Gilbert let out one more futile groan of frustration and fell silent. Antonio picked up his quill and began staring at the blank parchment in front of him. He took a swig off of the bottle of rum, too. He was bored, but he could account for nothing, predict nothing, plan nothing. If they were to go to port he could only predict the undeniable and inevitable event of his drunkenness. He sighed and glanced upward only to find Francis and gilbert exchanging knowing looks and nods. Antonio cleared his throat and raised his brows at the two.

"Is there something you two need to tell me?"

"Toni, we have some important news to tell you..." Gilbert began. "Francis and I are sorry to admit this, but-"

"I'm not terribly sorry," Francis drawled.

"Shut up. I'm sorry to admit this, Toni, but we've come to the conclusion that you are, in fact, gay.

The Captain looked at the two of his friends, perplexed. "You've known me for years, and you're only deciding this now?"

"We've known you for years and you've never once slept with a woman," Francis stated, crossing his right leg over his left. "Besides, I have a knack for guessing these things, mon copain. I've been suspecting this for a while."

"Just because you enjoy sleeping with men does not mean I do.," Antonio snapped. "And I have your sister to bang." Antonio shrugged and offered his currently enraged-looking friend a snarky smile. He shouldn't have made jabs at Antonio's love life. Though he hadn't slept with Bella in quite a while. She was avoiding him after nightfall. Francis didn't need to know that. It was probably his fault. He had been around constantly.

"How do I know you're telling the truth? She's been sleeping in her room with Gilbert, Ludwig, and I all week," Francis snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. He was clearly disturbed.

"I don't think she wanted to admit that she was sleeping with her brother's best friend whilst said brother was around," Antonio grumbled.

"Bro, that's seriously wrong. You shouldn't sleep with your best friend's sister," Gilbert stated. "You're still gay, though."

"How?"

"Bella has been the only beautiful thing that walked across your ship in the last - what - five years? I mean she is related to me," Francis chided. He then continued on. "Now that you've got that Italian on your ship, you don't need her. You've discovered your true infatuation with that boy, and she sees that."

"And that concludes that I am gay?"

"Yes," they said in unison.

"I can't just find something like avoiding chaos on my ship more important than sex?"

"Nothing is more important that sex," Francis said. "Aside from loyalty and friends, of course."

"I am not gay!" Antonio yelled in frustration.

"Then come to Tortuga, 'Tonio! Go sleep with one of the beautiful local girls that are not my sister," Francis urged. "You're a handsome devil like myself. I'm sure you could easily get one."

"I don't want to get one," the Captain said.

"Because you're gay, and the only person you want to sleep with is that kid. Face it, Toni. Embrace it," Gilbert said, making some vain attempt to sound wise.

"Am not," Antonio protested.

"Then prove it. Prove you're not queer like Francis."

The Frenchman was unaffected by the comment. He merely shrugged Gilbert of and looked to Antonio with a promising stare.

"I don't need anyone. I have my beloved Anna Maria. She keeps me company," Antonio said, leaning back in his chair. He took another swig off of the bottle of rum on his desk.

"Toni, that's just unhealthy. You're in love with a ship," Gilbert stated.

"I wouldn't say that I'm in love with her. That's just wrong on so many levels. It's more like... The only thing that I have time to care about."

"Okay. I'm hurt. I am very much hurt," Gilbert said, feigning offense. "But seriously, bro. That's still unhealthy."

"Just come to Tortuga, my friend," Francis pleaded.

Antonio loosed a groan and gave a reluctant nod. "Fine, but on one condition. You have to babysit the Austrian Princess, your French informant, the older Italian, and the annoying British Captain."

"Why not the younger Italian?" Gilbert asked.

"I'm sure your brother will have both his eyes and hands all over him." Ludwig had been spending his every waking moment with Feliciano that he could. He had even convinced Antonio to allow him to take him aboard the Lili Marlene.

"I hate to admit this to you, Gilbert," Francis lulled, "but from the way Ludwig looks at that boy... I can tell he cares more about Feliciano than he lets on. He's more than just a friend."

"Bullshit! You know nothing!"

"Believe as you wish, mon copain, but understand this. I know."

"Remind me again why we have to watch them?" Gilbert asked, shooting Francis a look as if daring him to return to the previous subject.

"Because I can't just bring them with me and then go off with a girl." Antonio gazed at them for a moment before taking another sip of rum. His gaze narrowed. "I don't want to bring them at all, but I can't exactly leave them on the ship because of Alfred and your little lover, Francis, seem crafty enough to break out with the other three in tow. So you're staying here and babysitting."

"So, it's not an option to bring them with?" Francis asked.

"No. With your luck, you'll get drunk, and they'll escape. I don't trust you two enough when you drink."

"Yet you can drink every day and not worry about a thing," Gilbert deadpanned.

"I'm good at it. I don't run off with random local girls when I'm supposed to be distracting a certain British captain," Antonio reminded.

"That was one time!"

"Yea and Arthur nearly took off my head. Point is, you're staying here."

"Toni, what good is drinking if it's not with your two best mates?" Gilbert asked, attempting to sway the stern look on Antonio's face.

The fun in drinking? It took away all of his emotion. It allowed him to be the conquistador he had made himself out to be. It made him ruthless and cold. It allowed him to live with the guilt. He knew that... But the Captain also knew he had many good days drinking when he was younger. When they were fifteen, they had met and gone backpacking across the countrysides of Spain, France, and Prussia with the little money that they had. They drank, sang, laughed, and wreaked havoc across those countrysides... When they couldn't afford an inn, they slept on whatever hillside that they could find. When they came across a farm, they worked it for a few days just to fill their stomachs. For them, it was a period of freedom and blissful ignorance. Antonio had yet to know the pain of loss. Francis had yet to learn of the disciplines of the military. Gilbert had yet to discover the agony of imprisonment and torture. Antonio craved those days again, the days where he only worried about meals and where to sleep. Gilbert was trying to bring those back, and unfortunately, he was winning.

Antonio sighed heavily and conceded, "You two are responsible for the other four. And you best keep an eye on both the Italian and your little Frenchman, Francis. They're boy crafty. Gilbert, you watch the Austrian Princess and the British captain."

"Why do I have to take the crab ass?" Francis protested.

"Because he's prone to escape. Besides, I trust you more than I do Gilbert when it comes to him. Gilbert will get too drunk."

"Hey! I am so responsible. I could watch the Italian."

"I don't care who watches him, but if you allow him to escape, you'll not only go after him, but you'll also be paying me his weight in gold," Antonio snapped, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He took another long sip of the rum and shook his head. "Make it twice his weight. He's light..."

"Done," Gilbert said with a smirk.

"Why do you need more money, my friend? You are plenty rich," Francis stated.

"I need to pay someone off," he muttered, looking back to the parchment on his desk. The document before him was blank even after hours of sitting there. "My funds for that might need to be limitless."

"Who?" they asked in unison.

"Allistor..." he said, setting down his quill after the extended period of time of holding it. "He believes that Augustus will hire his services, and Allistor's only loyalty is to gold. He'd hunt me down in a moment after I return those boys if it meant buying the rest of his life's freedom and wealth."

"You're afraid of him?" Francis asked.

"No," the Captain said. "I'm just cautious. I will not fall to his hand. I will not fall to those in power who abuse others with it. I can't allow it, and if Allistor works for Augustus Vargas..."

"Antonio, it's unhealthy for you to hate this much. What happened to the carefree kid we used to know? I swear. You become more badass, but you also get scarier," the albino muttered.

"Times have changed," the Spaniard said with a shrug, "I've changed." But deep down he knew the answer...

"Mon copain, it has been seven years," Francis whispered. "In those seven years, your moral have changed. You'd never hurt anyone before..."

More people tearing apart his life and his choices and beating them to ground. If they could notice, surely his sister in Heaven would... He had thought he'd done well at guarding himself and his emotions, but no. They had noticed, and it only made him angrier. He slammed the rum bottle down on the table. "Yes, and? Francis, Gilbert. I've changed, and my morals have changed. I'm not some naïve child anymore. Do me a favor and tell me anything but what I am doing wrong. You tell me every little nuance in my life is unhealthy. For once, why don't you tell me what I am doing right?"

"I'll tell you what you can do right tonight. You can let go for one night, 'Tonio, mon copain, and you can go to Tortuga."

Gilbert learned into Francis and muttered, "If we're going to Tortuga, you're still taking the grumpy little shit. I'm not putting up with his shit. I have plans."

Antonio rolled his eyes. How he had ever allowed himself to fall victim to these two, he'd never know. They often caused him more stress than it was worth. Sometimes, however, on nights like this one, they simply tried to get him to loosen up. He sighed gently and looked at his friends. "Fine. We are going to Tortuga."

They reached the place for most of the pirate activity in the Atlantic and the Caribbean just as the sun was setting. They had reached Tortuga. It was one of the few scattered safe havens for people of his kind, pirates. It was hidden in the Caribbean. He had been coming there to resupply for years. Now he had come for a night of frivolity. And to spark a deal...

The Captain's crew had already dispersed throughout the port. All that remained were the nine of them. Or rather eight...

"Well I'll be bloody damned!" a drawling British voice called.

A child ran down Antonio's spine. He knew that voice. He knew it too damned well. He could place it anywhere. It was one that had haunted his dreams for the entirety of his youth and for the many months that passed since the last time he had heard it. It was the voice of one of the few men that truly scared the Spanish captain. It belonged to a man that he preferred to forget.

"Arthur, mi amigo!" Antonio said, turning on his heel to face the bushy-browed captain. "What a pleasant surprise, seeing you. It's been how long? Five years, no?"

"Six. With an additional five months and three days, but who is counting?"

"Obviously not you," Antonio said. He glanced back at Gilbert and Francis. They held on fiercely to their captives, but they were apprehensive under the green-eyed gaze of the British captain of the Emerald Lion all the same.

"I trust that after all this time you have the money you stole from me, correct?"

Antonio offered a forced grin. It was foolish to hope that the blond had forgotten. "I wouldn't call it stealing so much as borrowing, mi amigo, but think as you may. It's all the same with you and your brother. Your only loyalty is gold and not old friends, mi amigo."

"I did not approach you to talk about that lazy sod, Allistor. And I am not your 'amigo', so kindly refrain from calling me that. I'd not catch myself befriending a thief."

"We are all thieves, us pirates, no? When has there ever been any honor among us?"

"Where is my month, Anthony?" Arthur drew his sword an expert sort of carelessness.

Antonio heard Francis and Gilbert begin to draw their own, but he raised a ringed hand to stop them.

"I'm sure we can come to some agreement, no?"

"No, you bloody wank stain. I want the money you stole from-" Arthur suddenly stopped, his gaze widening. Antonio turned to look at what he was staring at. Or who. Alfred stood staring at Arthur with an equally wide gaze.

"Give him here, Anthony," Arthur demanded.

Antonio allowed a cheshire-like grin to appear on his lips. "Arthur, mi amigo, I have recently acquired this charming Royal Navy captain. I am willing to trade him to you in lieu of the debt I owe you."

Antonio braced himself for the argument that would inevitably-

"Done."

"What?" Antonio asked.

"It's a deal."

Antonio stared at Arthur for a moment and then shrugged. He grabbed Alfred by the cuffs that bound his wrists and pushed him towards Arthur.

Arthur sheathed his blade and offered a hand to Antonio. "It was a pleasure doing business with you, Anthony."

Suddenly a flash of blond wrapped itself around Alfred. It was Matthew.

"Be careful Alfred..." the Frenchman said.

"Heh. I'll be fine. I'm the hero, remember?" Alfred said. "If I make it out alive, remember not to be a stranger. Don't make it another few years before I see you."

"I won't.." Matthew said.

"Francis, you daft cow, get control of your lover," Arthur drawled. "I haven't got all day."

As told, Francis took hold of Matthew and pulled him away from his brother. Antonio watched as the pair of blonds walked away. He was glad of it, too. That meant one less mouth to feed on his ship. It also meant that he had one less debt to pay. There was one less pair of bickering brothers aboard as well.

"I've no idea how I ever thought those brows were attractive. They literally take up half of his forehead..." Francis muttered.

Antonio snorted and rolled his eyes. "Let's get moving before someone else with a well-known grudge against me finds us."

And then there were eight. Ludwig was in charge of watching Feliciano. Francis had Lovino and his little informant. Gilbert was keeping an eye on the Austrian Princess. And so their night began...

Ludwig

The Tale of Tomatoes and Missing Schnapps

Ludwig hadn't expected the events of the last few days to happen. He hadn't expected to get close to the young boy named Feliciano. It was never his intention. He had never wanted to become so attached. His goal was to make the kid less afraid. Those goals had been more than successful, but they also came with repercussions he wasn't sure he could wrap his mind around.

Words were exchanged upon Antonio's ship between him and Gilbert the night following when he was found wiping the tears from the boy's cheek. They had argued over Ludwig's intentions with the young Italian. The problem was... He didn't really know. The Italian was a light in a very dark world. He was a beacon of happiness. He always laughed, always smiled. Ludwig craved that glow in his eyes. Feliciano didn't see him as a scary brute like most others did. He saw past his façade. Ludwig only wished that the boy did not have to go through some of the horrors that he faced.

Antonio, a dear friend of his, had stolen the boy from his home. No. Bella had stolen him, he corrected himself. She had roused him from his bed and led him from his home. The boy must have been ghost white with fear, but for some reason, Ludwig couldn't be more grateful.

In the days that had passed, Ludwig found himself craving the boy's presence. He was so young, only sixteen, but he was also so alluring. Ludwig was four years his senior, but age didn't matter to him. All that matter was that he was around, his light, his Feliciano. They were in Tortuga, and he was under Ludwig's care. They could go anywhere, and Ludwig decided a little place where his brother was unlikely to go.

"Ludwig!" Feliciano cried through waves of excitement. "Look at this! We're on land! I missed the land. It's so much less rocky. It doesn't make me feel sick! Oh, Ludwig! Where are we going?"

"We're going to a small place to have a drink. Life on the seas is stressful..." Ludwig trailed off, his blue eyes locating the little, bouncing Italian.

"Will they have wine? Grandpa lets me drink wine. I like wine, but only because Grandpa makes good wine."

"Ja, Feliciano, they will have wine, but I don't think that it will be a Vargas original."

"That's okay. It will be good so long as I have good company to drink it with," the Italian beamed, smiling happily at Ludwig.

Ludwig's heart skipped a beat as he watched Feliciano smile. That smile was directed at him, and it felt so... Enlightening. He couldn't help but watch him. He had such an enchanting smile. It drew him in and held him in place. It made him want nothing more to cause it to happen again, and with how happy the boy usually seemed to be, that was easy enough.

They reached the bar after a few minutes. When they entered, they sat at a table in the center of the room. A woman in a tight corset took their orders. She brought them back to the pale-haired ginger behind the counter before returning with their drinks. Feliciano got his wine, and Ludwig stuck received his rum, a look of dismay reading on his features.

"What do you like to drink?" Feliciano asked suddenly. He then tacked on, "You don't seem to like what you ordered."

Ludwig allowed a ghost of a smile to spread onto his lips. The boy was always so perceptive. "Nothing you would like. Nothing they have here," he replied.

"But what is it?"

"Schnapps."

"Can I try it sometime?"

"It's an acquired taste."

"I still would like to try it."

"Ja, you can," Ludwig said with rueful hope, "one day."

They sat and talked amicably. Ludwig noticed how easily Feliciano emptied his glass. He must have at least gone through a bottle. He didn't care about the cost. He simply did not want the Italian to drink more than he was able. He looked upon Feliciano with a worried expression as he tried to lift himself from the table.

"I need to use the bathroom," he said, wobbling slightly.

"Feliciano, are you okay?" Ludwig asked. He could tell that the boy did not have a high tolerance for alcohol. He was so thin, so small.

"Yeah... I'm justa lil' dizzy," he said with thickly accented and slurred words. "I really need to pee..."

The Italian stood up slowly and stumbled. He caught himself on the table, and Ludwig was at his side with a steadying grasp almost immediately.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"Mhmm..." the Italian assured him. And then he stopped. "Nope. I am not okay. I feel sick..."

"Come on, I'm taking you upstairs..."

Ludwig picked Feliciano up in his arms and carried him to the bar. He spoke to the bartender briefly and paid for a room for the night. He carried the Italian upstairs, ignoring the stares he received from the other patrons of the bar. Up the stairs brought little Feliciano until he was at the door of his room. He opened. It was a little shabby, but it'd do. He laid Feliciano down and stood by his bedside. The boy was already falling asleep. Ludwig brushed his hair from his forehead and smiled down at him gently.

"You shouldn't drink so much. You'll get sick..." the German said softly.

"I'll be okay, Ludwig," the boy replied.

He nodded and made a move to leave. "I'll be back soon. I'm going to go get you some water. Stay here, Feliciano."

As Ludwig began to move, Feliciano's warm fingers caught his hand.

"Please stay with me, Ludwig," the boy said with heavily lidded brown eyes. "Just until I fall asleep, please?"

Ludwig nodded with another smile falling upon his lips and sat down on the bed beside Feliciano. "Okay..." he said softly.

The Italian curled into the German and smiled softly. Ludwig smiled back. He loved the Italian. Feliciano may not have known it yet, but this small boy held his heart.

Francis

The Tale of Rose and Wine

Francis was in charge of two tonight under the orders of one of his two best friends. He did not mind. He'd finally learn whether or not the Spaniard was more inclined to fall in love with men. He was almost positive he was. He hoped for it. It might force him to lighten up just a little. Plus he would love for his best friend to stop sleeping with his sister... Which was who he was going to dump the eldest Italian on. He wanted to have a night alone with his beloved Mathieu who was locked away upstairs in his rented room.

He found his sister milling around outside, smoking a cigarette. He approached her with his arm wrapped around Lovino's shoulder.

"Bella, darling!" he exclaimed, blue eyes meeting green. He kissed his sister's cheek before gracing her with a dazzling smile.

"I'm not taking the kid, Francis," she said after taking a long drag off of her cigarette. How attractive of her to be smoking in public.

"Bella darling, please, help your brother out, oui?"

"Franny quit being a lazy prick and do it yourself. It's not as if you have anything better to do anyways."

"I actually do have better things that I could be doing."

"What?" she asked, raising a blonde brow. "Banging your boyfriend?"

Francis scrunched his nose. When had his sister become so... raunchy? He would certainly have to blame Antonio for this.

"Please, chér, can't you do it?"

Bella sighed, visibly annoyed. "What's in it for me?" The female tossed her hair, allowing some of it to fall behind her ear.

"I'll be you a new dress or something, mon chér. Don't ladies like that sort of thing?" he asked with a hopeful expression.

"Make that a new sword, finely crafted and a few bottles of wine, and you've got yourself a deal, Franny."

"What did piracy do to you, darling? I could have sworn you disliked drinking."

"It's not for me. It's for the kid," she said, her eyes shifting towards Lovino.

"Chér, I seem to recall you looking rather stunning in that wedding dress of yours. Whatever happened? The last I heard of it was that you showed up on Antonio's ship in the gown. Why did you not marry?"

"I gave it up for a life of freedom," Bella said with a nonchalant shrug, but Francis could see the pain behind her green eyes. "I wasn't going to marry some pig at nineteen."

"If I remember correctly, that so-called pig was a nice gentleman. You've spent the last six years on Antonio's ship without speaking of the incident. What happened?"

"He was a child. He could hardly keep his face clean while he ate, Franny. Careless, I swear," she said, dropping her cigarette and stubbing it out with the toe of her boot. "Besides, I never really cared for men with brown hair."

"Yet you are sleeping with my best friend?" And there it was, the question that had been burning away at his mind.

Bella shrugged again. "He's there. He's easy to get to. He's good in bed, don't get me wrong, but I don't love him. I think we may have had feelings for each other at some point in time..." She shrugged again. "Like I said, he's just there when life on these seas gets strenuous."

"You're turning into me, and I'm not sure how I feel about that," Francis said, handing Bella a handful of coins. It'd be enough to buy a few bottles of wine.

Bella offered him a dazzling smile and took hold of Lovino's arm. "Come on, chér, let's go get you something to drink." Bella stopped to look at her brother. "I expect that sword, soon Francis."

Then she was gone.

And so Francis went back into the inn. He had left his petit informateur upstairs while he spoke to his sister. He was going to go back to him in a few moments. First, he walked to the bar and ordered the best wine he could find at the place as well as two glasses. He paid the pale-haired ginger and started upstairs. He carried the two full glasses in his hands and the bottle under his arm. He wanted his Mathieu, he craved him, but he had no idea how the younger male would react. He could turn Francis away entirely.

He walked down the hall towards the room where he had left his beloved. Carefully he opened the door and looked upon his Frenchman.

"Mathieu!" he said happily.

The bespectacled man remained silent.

Francis sighed slightly and held out a glass to him. "Please, mon chér, take the glass as a token of peace."

The male took the wine with his free hand. The other was cuffed to the metal frame of the bed. He took a sip but still said nothing.

"Please speak to me, mon chér," Francis pleaded.

"I have nothing to say to you."

This was a start. "Pourquoi?"

"Let us think, oui? You had me locked away on a pirate's ship. Now you are dragging me around with your crazed group of companions. I was perfectly happy in the British countryside where I was staying."

"Where every French captain had sent his men to look for you?" Francis asked.

"I would have evaded them."

"But you could not evade me. I am the best of the best when it comes to the King's navy," Francis boasted, taking a small sip of his wine.

"You came in the middle of the night. I let my guard down and fell asleep. I was foolish," Matthew said bitterly.

"As I said, no one can evade me. No one is as loyal to their king."

"Yet you don't turn me over to him. You are in league with pirates. For Christ's sake, vos meilleurs amis sont des pirates!"

"But I have been loyal to my king all the same. Gilbert and Antonio have never attacked France. They give me information that I need to help my King. I have been loyal to him all the same over these years... Until now."

"Pourquoi?"

"I don't know. It's so complex." Francis emptied his glass of wine in a few swift gulps and poured himself a new one. "I just feel different."

"You don't even know me."

"But I feel like I do. I feel like I have known you for a thousand years." Francis drew closer to the blonde. He was sitting on the edge of the bed beside him. "I want to you know for a thousand more."

Francis sighed and closed his eyes.

"If you are loyal to your King, then you'd have to bring me to him," Matthew said.

"No, he'd kill you! I care for you too much to allow it."

"If you care, then you would have to let me go. Every moment that I'm here, you risk my life. You don't want that do you?"

"No, but it's not that simple."

"Yes, it is."

"I can't..." Francis trailed off.

"You can't what?"

"I can't help falling in love with you..."

Matthew's glass slipped from his now limp hand, falling to the ground and shattering into a thousand pieces. He stared at Francis with shocked violet eyes. Those were words that he seemed not to expect, Francis realized. The blue-eyed male shook his head. He knew Matthew would reject him. He knew he'd get turned away.

Francis turned away from Matthew, taking the wine bottle with him. He left the room and walked down the stairs to the main floor of the in to drink away his pain. His heart was breaking just as that glass had.

When he returned later that night, Matthew was gone.

Francis climbed onto the mattress and pulled the blankets over himself. The bed was cold and devoid of any comfort. Francis stretched his long fingers to find the space beside him empty. Matthew was gone... The keys to the cuffs that had bound him lay on what had once been his pillow. Francis closed his blue eyes and sighed. He had been so naïve to think Matthew could ever love him.

Matthew

Matthew sat in the alley just beside the inn where they had been staying, a cigarette between his fingers. He was uttered confused. The flamboyant idiot had said he was falling for him, but that was something that Matthew could never believe. No one loved him. Alfred didn't even love him although they were brothers. He had never allowed someone to love him. His world had allowed no one but himself inside. The man upstairs, however, seemed to change everything. He seemed to care about Matthew, unlike so many other. He looked longingly back at the door to the inn and sighed. He had to go back.

Francis

Matthew was in his arms. Their bodies were naked, touching so close at the hips, joined even by their sexes. Their breaths were ragged and torn. Everything was perfect. Every gasp, every lustful moan, every breath that was taken. Francis relished in it all. He allowed his hands to glide over Matthew's slender yet muscular frame. He was all he had ever wanted, all he had ever needed.

Francis woke suddenly from his dream when a breeze blew open the curtains in his room. The morning sun crept in and forced him awake. He squeezed his eyes shut and shifted his body to face the emptiness beside him. He didn't want to open his eyes. He didn't want to get up. He knew Antonio would leave him stranded just to teach him a lesson, but he couldn't move. He had no will. The Frenchman opened his blue eyes and came face to face with Matthew. He closed his eyes again. His dreams were plaguing him with images. They were too real. Even when he was awake, he could swear that Matthew was there...

He heard a soft groan and warm fingers reached out to him. Francis' eyes shot open. The man beside him was not a figment of his imagination and his dreams.

"You came back..." Francis, staring at Matthew.

Matthew opened his violet eyes and gave a small smile. "Because I believe you can teach me to love and to love you."

"What... I thought..."

"You said you were the only brilliant Captain who could have managed to capture me. How can someone such as yourself not expect the unexpected in instances such as capturing my heart?"

Francis smiled and pulled Matthew close to him. He had never been happier.

A/N/: Welp. I know there is little SpaMano in this chapter, but I wanted to get my ships out there. There will be SpaMano in the next chapter, though. It's this chapter part two.