A/N: I just needed to write something for these two, and I'm a big dumb sucker for lazy domestic shit.


"Unspoken"

The first thing Gilbert was aware of was a knee digging into his side. Maybe it was an elbow; when it came to Lovino, one could never really be sure. He groaned and pushed the Italian away from him, earning himself a kick as Lovino rolled over. He liked to tell himself he would push the brunet out of bed if he wasn't so cute. On the other hand, he couldn't stay in bed forever. The cocoon of warmth and the soft skin of the man next to him were wonderful, but he'd get restless if he stayed there too long, and Lovino would yell at him if he fidgeted.

Sighing, he slid out of bed and went to start the coffee. He used the blend the Italian had brought over when they started sleeping together. His gaze wandered to the window as he waited for it to brew, a smile creeping across his lips.

He didn't see the woman outside walking her dog. Instead, he saw the way Lovino looked up at him when he wasn't getting his way. He saw the way those full, soft lips pouted, his hazel eyes flashing with childish bursts of anger. He could hear the words Lovino snapped at him so often echoing in his ears, but instead of the annoyance he was supposed to feel, he found himself chuckling.

He didn't seen the bird hopping on the windowsill either. As it peeked into the kitchen, his mind was filled with images of Lovino in his bed. It didn't matter if his cheeks were flushed with arousal or smooth with sleep—either way, Gilbert thought he was one of the most beautiful people he'd ever seen. Lovino always rejected those words, no matter how teasingly he said them.

The coffee maker beeped, bringing Gilbert back to reality. He filled two cups, Lovino's slightly larger than his own. The Italian had made it very clear several months ago that Italian roasts were too rich for the large mugs he used when his brunet lover wasn't around. He set Lovino's cup on the table next to the bed, leaning down to kiss the other awake—if he wasn't careful, he would wake up in a huff and wouldn't even appreciate the coffee Gilbert had made.

It seemed he'd played his cards right, because there was no hostility in Lovino's hazel eyes as they fluttered open. The brunet blinked at him for a moment, then his expression warmed as he recognized where he was and who he was looking at. By now, Gilbert's room was as familiar and comfortable as his own. Gilbert stepped back as Lovino sat up, reaching instinctively for the coffee. Their routines rarely changed, and they'd fallen into them long ago.

"Buongiorno," Lovino murmured, taking his first sip. Gilbert grinned and sat back on the bed, Lovino shifting to accommodate him. The Prussian admired the way the light fell across his sun-kissed skin and picked out the auburn highlights of his dark hair. Lovino was more focused on the coffee, but when he looked up, a small smile tugged at his lips.

"What?" he asked, his voice still soft enough that it didn't break the moment. Gilbert shook his head, not wanting to try to put his feelings into words just yet. He had a sneaking suspicion as to what those words might be, but it was too early, and he was too comfortable with Lovino leaning against his shoulder.

"Tell you later," he promised, running his fingers through the tousled brunet locks.

"Whatever," Lovino mumbled in reply, though there was no bite to his words. He took another sip of his coffee, and Gilbert found himself smiling like an idiot at the relaxed atmosphere of their morning.