Chapter 10

Lovino did hear Feliciano singing, even before he had come close to Ludwig's room. He opened the door without warning, and was welcomed by a half-naked Feliciano. "Fratello!" He cheered, approaching.

"Get dressed!" Lovino ordered, making a beeline for the phone. "Anyway, I'm busy for the moment. Get dressed while I'm working." His back to his brother, he picked up the phone and dialed the number.

He had to wait only moments before the phone was answered on the other end. "Pronto," a husky voice said.

"It's me," he responded gruffly, in the Sicilian dialect he knew his brother wouldn't understand. "I need two of you to come out and give Antonio a ride to my place."

"Mmhm, alright," the other answered, in Sicilian. "What time?"

"Immediately." He gave the other his current position.

"Right, right." The other hung up the phone, and Lovino hung up, too.

"Fratelllllloooooooo," Feliciano wailed, giving him cause to turn and face him. "You know I hate it when you do that! I can't understand anything you're saying! We created a national language just because of that, remember?"

"I know, I know," Lovino grumbled, ruffling a hand through his hair. "Do you have any nice suits I could borrow?" He changed the subject quickly, knowing Feliciano would jump at the chance to spice his big brother up with style.

"Si, si, I've got tons!" He opened the door to his walk-in closet and ventured inside. Tentatively, Lovino followed along behind.

Immediately, Feliciano began digging through the suits and outfits. "How about this?" He held up an extremely flashy green striped suit.

"Eehhhh…" Lovino murmured, "don't you have anything simple? Like a plain black one?"

Feliciano frowned in thought – and probably disappointment – but silently put the first suit back and began rifling through the outfits once more. "Mmhm, try this one." Feliciano offered a black pinstriped tux, with a light pink undershirt and black tie.

Lovino nodded his approval and worked his current shirt off, threw it to the side.

"Ah, how's your wound, fratello?" Feliciano murmured, looking to Lovino's bandages.

"Hmm, actually I forgot about it…" Lovino murmured, tentatively touching the bandages. After finding no pain, he worked them off. He was pleased to see that it had healed completely, leaving only the smallest of scars. Sometimes it was nice being a nation – wounds healed much faster than a normal human's, especially when they were wounds that were not reflecting the current shape of the country.

"Ah, that's good!" Feliciano said happily as Lovino tossed the bandages to the side.

Lovino nodded and began putting the top half of the tuxedo on. It was a little tight on him, but it still looked natural. He then moved on to his trousers, was pleased to note that the tuxedo looked good on him overall.

"You always did look good in a plain black suit," Feliciano commented with a sigh. "I wish I could look nice in them, too."

"You do," Lovino assured him. "You just think they're not fashionable."

"They're not!" Feliciano objected. "What's fashionable about all that black? Ugh, it always made me think of funerals. Bright colors are so much more fun, anyways!"

Lovino managed the smallest of smiles, ruffled his fratellino's hair. "Let's go, before that potato-sucker gets angry."

Feliciano whined in protest of the way in which Lovino referred to Ludwig, but didn't actually say anything.

Even before they were out of the door of the bedroom, Lovino murmured, "E-ehi, fratellino, how long did you and…Ludwig…um, wait before – ?"

"Are you asking another sex question?" Feliciano sang, blithely interrupting his older brother.

"S-stop saying things like that, as though it's nothing!" Lovino scolded.

Feliciano only laughed. "We didn't wait very long," he admitted. "That was mostly my fault, though…Germany wanted to wait a while, but I seduced him!" He giggled, obviously proud. Lovino went a bright red, imagining it – not that he wanted to – and wondered what in the hell made him ask in the first place.

They met up with Ludwig, Antonio, and Honda in the parlor. Mouth dry, Lovino approached the Spaniard, hands in his trouser pockets. "Your transportation should be here soon," he murmured as the rest of the Axis conversed separately.

"When will I see you again?" Antonio whispered, stepping closer to the younger and wrapping his arms around his waist.

"I…don't know," Lovino managed, heart thumping. He didn't want to go without that earthy, summer smell and that warm embrace. He never enjoyed it when he and Antonio were separated, even when he was very young.

He noticed, with a shock, that his hands were resting on either of Antonio's hips. Mortified, Lovino moved his hands to the back of Antonio's hips and clasped them together. Sure, his hands were dreadfully close to the Spaniard's butt, but it was a little more comfortable, a little easier to deal with.

"I'm going to miss you," Antonio whispered, their foreheads touching.

"I-I'm going to miss you too," Lovino admitted with a grumble, unwilling to look the elder in the eyes.

"I love you," Antonio told him, his voice barely audible.

Lovino gulped. He had to say it back, now; Antonio was expecting – probably needing – to hear him say it. He had to say it back, even if he felt weird saying it. Besides, didn't he feel the same? "I," he began, more nervous than if Antonio had suddenly begun undressing him, "I…I…" He couldn't say it. He just couldn't. It still felt too weird, too new and raw to add to his vocabulary. Looking everywhere but into Antonio's eyes, Lovino forced, "I…feel the same…"

It was a weak substation. He knew it was. But, for some reason, saying those three words to the other male was just too awkward; it brought too much uneasiness to his body, elicited a response from too many different parts. Words were not supposed to have that much affect on someone, no matter what they meant.

Lovino suddenly felt very guilty, and very stupid. He knew Antonio needed to hear those words from him before they departed for God-knew-how-long, but he couldn't muster them past his lips. He also knew that he had said those words to Antonio not too long ago, but that was a slip. Sure, he felt it – maybe – but that didn't mean he could prance around declaring it. It was just too odd.

Antonio's eyelids drooped a bit – Lovino thought he could read disappointment in those emeralds – but the Spaniard simply touched his fingers to Lovino's cheek and whispered, "Don't worry, I'm not upset."

But Lovino knew better than that; the hurt was plain to see. Even an idiot like himself could notice that the failure to utter those words had struck a chord within Antonio.

Without worrying about the others seeing, Lovino took Antonio's chin and slammed his lips against Antonio's. He tried his hardest to put passion, lust, something in that kiss. Something that would tell Antonio what he couldn't verbalize.

When they broke for air, Antonio's eyes only looked even more troubled, which made Lovino's eyes sting with guilt. He had to say it; Antonio was a helpless romantic – even more than Lovino himself – and so Lovino knew the Spaniard would be crushed if he didn't say it. Coupled with the fact that they could go without seeing one another for quite some time, Antonio would probably spend the entire time locked up in his room, without lights or water or, worse, without tomatoes.

"Antonio," Lovino began, "I – "

He was interrupted by Honda. "Sumimasen," the Japanese murmured, "but the car you ordered is here, Romano-kun."

Lovino growled, looked to the ground as he backed away. "Let's go, then," he murmured, clenching and unclenching his fists in an attempt to keep the tears from flowing.

"R-right," Antonio stumbled, chuckling a bit as he put a hand behind his head. "I guess we can all walk out together."

"Hai," Honda affirmed. "Our meeting is at a nearby hotel, so we're walking there." Honda turned around and began to walk away. Lovino and Antonio quickly followed after.

Outside, the black car was waiting for Antonio. Lovino approached first, rested a hand on the rim surrounding the window – which was down – and spoke to the man driving. "Take him to my house," he reiterated, again in Sicilian dialect. "Make him happy and comfortable, and stop for whatever he wants, whenever he wants it."

The driver nodded and Lovino turned away from him in favor of those behind him.

He caught Antonio's eyes, felt too awkward, and looked away. "Ah, um, here," Lovino opened the door to the backseat of the car and gestured for Antonio to get in.

Antonio obliged, stopped just before he got in, and looked to Lovino. A tense moment passed, in which every fiber in Lovino's being screamed profanity at him. Tell him, you idiot! Tell him now, while you still have the chance!

Lovino managed to meet Antonio's eyes for a split second. They were so full of pain and unmet expectations that he couldn't keep his gaze locked for long.

Say it, you dumbass! What are you waiting for?

Trembling, Lovino opened his mouth and croaked involuntarily. He felt his fists clenching and unclenching again, and his heart was racing with anxiety. His body really was screaming profanity at him. "I…I," he began, looked into Antonio's eyes once more.

There was hope, the tinniest bit, glimmering just beneath the pain.

Do it! Tell him you love him! Tell him how much you'll miss him while he's gone! Don't be such a jackass! You know you want to say it, anyway! Why hesitate?

Lovino licked his lips. "I…" His body was screaming it, his heart was tearing him apart with it.

But the words would not cross his lips. They seemed glued to his teeth, to the roof of his mouth, awkwardly arranged so that he could not make sense of them as he tried to speak them.

Anger began to boil beneath the anxiety, anger at himself for not being able to do something so simple. Why couldn't he just say what the hell he wanted to say, and be done with it?

His arms shook in nervousness and self-hatred, a combination he had never felt before. "I…Bye." Lovino gave up, quickly spun around on his heels and speedily walked off. There was no way he could stand there and receive the hurt look he knew was all over Antonio's face.

And there was no way he could let Antonio see the tears that readily and easily coursed down his cheeks as he hurried away.

He heard a car door close softly, and the sound of the car slowly driving away.

Seconds later, Honda called out his name and ran up to him. Lovino kept his gaze focused on the ground, too ashamed to have the other see him in such a state.

Honda took a second to catch his breath, then said after a pause, "You're heading the wrong way, Romano-kun."

Lovino laughed despite himself, at the irony, and spun around on his heels again. Quickly, he worked at wiping the tears from his eyes, even though there seemed to be no end to the flow. Nothing had made him cry this much in a very long time.

They met Feliciano and Ludwig at the doors of the hotel in which they planned to meet the Allies.

Feliciano shot his brother a worried look, but Lovino kept his head high and silently followed the others inside. He would not let this failure control him, at least not right now. Right now there were more important matters to attend to.

Striding into the meeting room with a false arrogance and courage, the Axis powers took their respective seats across from the Allies.

"Just days ago," Arthur Kirkland began immediately, without a precursor, "British officials arrested you, Italy," he pointed to either of the Italian brothers accusingly and plowed on, "and hours later it comes to my attention that every single man stationed within that prison was murdered due to gunshot wounds."

Lovino felt his blood beginning to boil. He yawned, slowly and pointedly stretched and sat back in his chair. "So what? Welcome to war."

He noted with satisfaction that the Englishman was already fuming. "I want reparations!" He demanded, jumping to his feet and slamming the table with his open palms. "Two hundred men slaughtered like bloody pigs!" The man took a moment to calm himself before slowly descending onto his seat once more. "If I am not afforded reparations, I and the other Allies will be forced to take drastic measures."

Lovino opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off by Ludwig. "What are you proposing?"

"I want…" The Briton took a moment to think, and his former colony, America, jumped in.

"Take his capitol! Make them a democracy!"

Then the rest of the nations jumped in, too.

"Make him pay for the war!"

"Give all his land to China!"

"Hand over Prussia!"

Ludwig sat there calmly as the enemy demanded impossible reparations. He gave them a moment to silence themselves before he answered, "None of that is possible."

Arthur, still heated, folded his arms and sat back in his chair. "Reparations will be received, one way or another, Kraut." He spat this last word, as an insult. "I can guarantee that none of you wankers will be members of the United Nation."

This seemed to stir something in Feliciano, but Ludwig was unmoved. "Membership in such a simplistic, superficial organization is not something I desire."

Lovino smirked as the other nations growled at Ludwig's remark. Then he realized that the nations were blaming Ludwig for his actions. And there was no way he was going to let that potato-sucking bastard get all the credit for his hard work!

"Why are all of you blaming this on that bastard?" Lovino thrusted his thumb to his left, where Ludwig sat, just beyond Feliciano. The Allies silence in curiosity, and Lovino continued, "I was the one who took out all your men, England. Don't give that bastard the credit for all my hard work."

There was a moment of silence, in which England and the rest gaped at him like fish out of water, before they broke into laughter.

"As if Italy, of all countries, could ever do something like that!" England retorted, pointing and laughing. He was laughing so hard tears collected at the corners of his eyes. The rest of the countries were the same way.

"Wow, I didn't know you could be funny, man!" America laughed alongside England, mirroring the elder.

Lovino ground his teeth together as his blood ran hot. His arms shook, and his hands clenched themselves into painfully tight fists. Not like he noticed. He wanted to put all of those bastards into their place, right there and then; delightful visions of grinding their faces into the dirt passed through his mind, though it didn't make him feel any calmer.

Feliciano noticed his brother's rising anger level, gently rested a hand on his arm. Lovino looked to him with his eyes, biting his lower lip. "It's alright, brother," he whispered in Italian, "just ignore them. Germany will take care of everything."

This didn't make him feel better in the least. Feliciano, of course, was just like Antonio; he never could sense the atmosphere and know what not to say. Instead, those words that should not be said just flew out of his mouth like they were independent of Feliciano's thought process.

"No," Lovino grumbled as the other nations and Ludwig worked back to a conversation with a point, "I don't want to rely on that bastard to solve all our problems." He ignored, for once, the slight whimper Feliciano offered when he referred to Ludwig so basely. Being respectful of someone he really couldn't stand wasn't his priority at the moment.

He must have blacked out in his anger, because the next thing he knew, Feliciano was urging him upright. Lovino blinked once, twice, looked around as though he had never seen the world before. "It's…over?" He murmured, watching as the members of the Allies left the room rather nonchalantly.

"Ah," Ludwig answered from beside him. "It was agreed that my forces will surrender at one of the cities it's currently stationed in…A very simplistic request. They never hinted at any other stipulations, but…"

Lovino nodded, already understanding Ludwig's point of view. "They will attack," Honda said rather matter-of-factly. "Perhaps not now or tomorrow or anytime this week, but they will attack. They will earn their reparation back somehow."

Beside him, Feliciano shuddered.

"We need more troops," Ludwig whispered to the other three as they began filing out of the room. "And we need to prepare for anything they're scheming on throwing our way. We cannot afford a failure."

Lovino, back to his senses, grunted his agreement.

"And no more thoughtless actions," Ludwig continued, looking to Lovino, who scowled in response.

"Shut the hell up, potato-eater," Lovino countered. "I did what was necessary for the situation. You were the one to give me the permission and the gun in the first place."

Ludwig nodded silently, accepting the weight.

If anything, that was worse than a counter-argument. It didn't make Lovino feel any more justified.

Feliciano spoke up after a moment of intense silence, when Ludwig's house came into view. "Ah, I would love some pasta right about now!"

"I'm going for a siesta," Lovino added, imagining how nice it would be to sleep after being awake for so long.

"Germany-san and I will gather battle information for our next counter-attack, and get everything ready for protection." Honda spoke, calmly.

"Ah," Ludwig said with a nod. "I can't rest until we're completely prepared."

Lovino rolled his eyes, although he knew they were right.

Once they had returned to Ludwig's place, Lovino went straight to his room, locked the door behind him, and threw himself onto the bed. Drowsiness instantly washed over him, and he felt himself already being pulled over by the clutches of sleep.

The sheets still smelled of Antonio, which perturbed him a bit, but then something a little more optimistic crossed his mind.

Wherever he or Antonio were, they were sure to be dead asleep at the same time. The synchronization made him feel more comforted, somehow, as though the Spaniard were right there with him, cradling him in his arms as sleep overtook them.

He gave in to those desires then, and finally allowed himself rest.