It's about a hundred degrees Fahrenheit where I live and my AC is broken. Yaaaay...

First got the idea for this story when I saw A View From the Bridge for the first time. Somehow, this ended up being nothing like A View From the Bridge. And, wow, did I make Antonio and Romano's relationship complicated. The next couple of chapters were difficult to write coherently as I tried to sift through all the underlying tension. Don't be too hard on me.

CHAPTER 10

He hadn't noticed it before, but now that Romano knew of Gilbert's aversion towards driving it was very apparent in his manner. His expression was grim and his posture rigid as he sat behind the steering wheel, which he gripped so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His eyes never strayed from the road. The ride was smooth—from practice rather than ease, Romano suspected. He told Gilbert that he could stop. He offered to switch places. Gilbert replied with a curt, "No."

Gilbert circled around the airport to avoid being yelled at by security officials while Romano went inside to find Antonio. He stood outside the baggage claiming area, away from the pockets of other people distributed throughout, scanning every face in search of olive skin and mussy chocolate hair. He didn't have to wait long before he saw his friend rushing towards him and waving.

"Roma!" Antonio exclaimed, jumping him and hugging his neck. "I missed you!"

Romano refrained from embracing him completely, awkwardly patting the taller man's shoulder. "Yeah, yeah, let's get going," he said. He skillfully dodged when Antonio went in for a kiss. "Don't."

"Why?" Antonio asked innocently.

"Because..."

Romano had determined to finally confront Antonio while they still had a chance to salvage their friendship, so they couldn't go around kissing and hugging like before. Things could return to normal if they just talked things through for once and established clear boundaries. Romano would be relieved of the torturous burden he'd been carrying and no one would ever have to find out what a depraved person he secretly was. This was hardly the time or place to have such a discussion, though.

"I have a cold. Don't want you to catch it," he finished at last. He hoped that the pitiful lie would at least keep Antonio from doing anything in front of Gilbert or Feli till he could find the proper time to tell the truth.

"I'm gone a week and you get a cold?" Antonio teased. "You're such a kid."

Romano jutted out his lips in disdain. "No I'm not."

He half expected Antonio to reprimand him for not taking better care of himself, but it didn't happen. Instead, Antonio squished his cheeks between his hands and said, "Aww, I love your cute pouty face."

Antonio always forgot that Romano didn't like him touching his face. If things had been different, Romano would have cussed at him and pushed him away. He found that impossible now considering what Antonio had just come back from, what he was undoubtedly still suffering from while refusing to show it. Moreover, Romano was remembering how much he liked Antonio's warm hands touching him.

"You haven't called me cute in a long time," he said.

"I stopped since you didn't like it," Antonio gave a shy smile, "but after being gone for a week I couldn't help myself."

Romano stared up at him. "Why would you think I didn't like it?"

"Every time I called you cute you would either tell me to shut up or punch me. Or both."

"That doesn't mean I don't like it."

He hadn't expected Antonio to need that explained to him. Sure, he could be dense, but there were some things he knew instinctively, and Romano wasn't always able to tell what was obvious and what Antonio took the wrong way.

Now that they'd cleared up that misunderstanding, Antonio was openly enthusiastic. "If you really like it, I'll call you cute every day from now on!"

Romano looked away, flustered. "That's going overboard..."

"Every other day!"

"Idiot," he grumbled halfheartedly under his breath. He turned towards the exit. "Come on, let's go find Gilbert."

On the ride back, while Gilbert and Antonio chatted in the front of the car, the glaring realness of Romano's predicament unnerved him. These two were both going to be in the apartment, at the same time, for however long Gilbert and his brother remained with them. Gilbert hadn't made any advances since Romano had rejected him yesterday, and it didn't seem likely that he'd want to flaunt their failed almost-romance, so Romano wasn't worried about that. The real concern was Antonio.

Romano wished the circumstances would've had Antonio in a better frame of mind. He would go back in time and have this conversation months earlier if he could. The only comforting thought in all of this was that they'd never invested. Their attachment was still separate from their physical relationship. If this was a break-up, then Romano wouldn't be able to have this conversation. Such as things were, it would be an awkward, unfortunate, but necessary end to a temporary arrangement. Which, admittedly, sounded a lot like a break-up, but wasn't the same thing.

They loved each other—but they weren't in love. There was no reason to get caught up in emotion. There were no ties to sever, because nothing had ever officially begun. This wasn't a break-up.

Romano watched Antonio out of the side-view mirror. His lips turned up in a perfunctory smile as he listened to Gilbert prattle on. He was quiet. The more Romano thought about how he could possibly bring up the subject delicately the tighter his chest became, the more the lump in his throat swelled.

Strictly speaking, he wasn't about to break-up with Antonio, but it sure as shit felt like he was.

Romano disconnected, his mind roaming naturally during the car ride until they were pulling up in front of the café. Everything felt tightly constrained, smaller so now than ever before, once they went inside. Romano was dismissing the idea of spontaneous claustrophobia and only caught enough of Gilbert's sentence to know that he'd started telling Antonio about how they'd managed the café while he was gone, much to Antonio's surprise.

"It was actually pretty hilarious watching him behind the register," Gilbert told Antonio. "He was trying to run the whole thing alone, but he's so timid with customers and I couldn't bear to watch him. So, I saved him."

Romano delivered a sharp fist to Gilbert's shoulder and spoke up for the first time since they'd left the airport. "I'm not timid, asshole!"

Gilbert laughed boisterously, unfazed by the blow. "That's more like it!"

Romano was thankful that Gilbert could talk and joke with him easily despite everything. He'd felt guilty, believing he'd led Gilbert on though he'd tried not to, but seeing Gilbert take it in stride gave him hope that they could move past all of that and be friends.

"But Antonio, you should really think about giving this guy a raise with how hard he worked last week."

"Yeah, well," Romano muttered, shuffling his feet. "You were...pretty helpful."

Gilbert smiled. "It wasn't all that bad working with you. I think we make a pretty good team."

"Uh." It was a benign statement. Romano groped for an equally non-suggestive response. "Yeah. I guess we do."

Antonio's mouth puckered to one side as he looked around the café. That was when Romano considered that running the shop in his absence might come across as a blatant and insulting disregard of Antonio's ownership, rather than a dutiful labor. When Antonio finally commented on it, there was no anger in his voice. Just confusion. "Why did you do it?"

"Wait," Gilbert said, "you didn't know?"

He shook his head, his stare fixed on Romano. "I didn't ask him to keep the shop open because it's too hard for one person to do by themselves."

"You used to run it by yourself before I dropped out of school and started working for you," Romano pointed out.

"That was different."

"Why's that?" he asked sarcastically.

"Because, it's my business. I'm responsible for it. You're not."

Romano's bitterness didn't seem to register with Antonio, but Gilbert stood by, glancing uncertainly between the two of them. He had no idea where any of this was stemming from. It was just as well that there were a lot of things he wouldn't know about.

It was late in the day already, and Antonio had no intention of opening the café. The three of them went upstairs. Ludwig and Feli were home, the former reading a book on the couch and the latter somewhere out of sight. Inside the apartment, Romano felt even more constricted.

He secluded himself in his room to see if that would help, but it didn't. He sat on the edge of the bed, stalling till the anxiety subsided. Antonio came after him shortly. Romano thought maybe he finally wanted to talk about what he was going through and had come to him for comfort and support. He went towards him when he came into his room, not prepared for what happened next. No sooner had Antonio closed the door behind him than he grabbed Romano and forced his tongue inside his cheek.

Romano managed to get away just long enough to bark, "What the fuck are you doing?" Antonio was on him again in no time, muffling Romano's protests with his kiss and holding him still. Romano clenched his fists weakly against his chest.

"I don't care if I catch your cold," Antonio whispered. "I just had—" he kissed roughly, "—the worst week of my life." His lips trailed along Romano's jaw. "And right now—" he nibbled an earlobe, sending a shiver through Romano's body, "I just want to forget everything."

"Dammit," Romano whined. "You can't bury emotional pain with sex." It was the most hypocritical thing he'd said all week.

Antonio purred against his neck, tracing his fingers along the muscles of his back. Romano hated how fucking powerless he felt in moments like this. That, ironically, was what gave him the strength to push away. Antonio balked at the fierce glare in Romano's eyes and staggered backward.

"I'm not going to have sex with you!"

"Oh," Antonio said, disappointed.

"Is that all you can say?! Fucking 'oh'?!"

"I mean, okay," he amended, taken aback by Romano's outrage. "I mean, we don't have to if you're not in the mood."

Romano brought his voice down as he tried to explain that this was more than a passing temper, though his thoughts and emotions were still turbulent. He didn't want everyone in the apartment to overhear this discussion. Distancing himself from Antonio and staring down at the floor, he struggled to speak what was on his mind as clearly as he could so that Antonio would be sure to understand. When Antonio asked what was wrong, he said, "Why don't we talk?"

"We talk all the time."

"Not about important things."

It wasn't as if Romano knew nothing about his best friend. He knew that Antonio's favorite color was red. That he loved the guitar and had started learning when he was fourteen. Romano remembered when he would bring the instrument to their house and play for him and his brother. One of Antonio's favorite cities was Barcelona, which he'd visited as a kid before he emigrated from Spain. He'd fallen in love with Gaudi architecture. Antonio liked spring best out of all the seasons because it was mild and sunny. Like him.

Romano knew every facial expression, every little quirk in Antonio's repertoire. The way his ears raised and his nose crinkled when he laughed. None of these things dispelled his uncertainty. There was still something in the way that kept them drifting apart.

He asked the question before taking the time to process it. "Who was your first kiss?"

Antonio cocked his head. "How is that important?"

"I want to know."

His smile was crooked, nonplussed. "Emma," he said. "That was her name. She and I used to be close in high school."

"Why don't I know her?"

"I haven't seen her in years."

"You've never so much as mentioned her."

"It was a decade ago." He searched Romano's face, his brows knitting together. "What is this really about?"

"Why don't you talk about stuff like that?"

He shrugged. "No real reason, I just don't think about it."

It was possible that Antonio was past the age of being nostalgic for what were the best years of adolescence for many, but Romano felt like there should have been mention of it at some point. Was Antonio really that unmindful, or was this a safeguard?

Maybe, Romano thought, I'm just being selfish again.

"I'm...really confused," Antonio said after a long while. "I don't understand why you'd be interested in that. You wouldn't know what I was talking about, you didn't go to my school. Besides, didn't you hate high school?"

"Well, yeah, but..." Romano didn't know any more if Antonio had always been this closed off from him, if their friends-who-sometimes-fuck setup had contaminated their relationship more than he'd thought, or if it really was all in his head. What he was certain of was that, whatever their friendship had been reduced to, it wasn't satisfying. "I thought I was close to you, so..." He didn't want sex in lieu of intimacy, and this really did have to end.

"Roma," Antonio murmured. "You're the closest person to me. You know me, I have a one-track mind. And maybe I am a little private in my own way, but you should know by now that the café, you, and Feli are what I consider to be most important in my life."

When Antonio tried to kiss him again, Romano furiously shoved him back. He shouted, his exasperation overriding his concern for those who might hear him, "Why do you keep doing that?!"

"Because I love you," Antonio said plainly.

"Why do you keep saying that?!"

"Because it's true!" Romano shrunk back when Antonio, as he did so rarely that Romano nearly forgot he was capable, lost his patience. "It's always been true, and I want to tell you! Why are you getting angry?!"

The ignorance of that question emboldened Romano. "How the fuck do you think it makes me feel when you always want to sleep with me and tell me that you love me but you don't want to actually be with me?! I don't even know what this is anymore!"

Antonio visibly stiffened. Romano could see the wheels turning as he, slow as ever, realized what was causing this rift. Hesitantly, he asked, "What do you mean, 'this'?"

"I mean this!" Romano gestured between them. "Us! What am I to you? Am I your friend? Your fucking charge? Your fuckbuddy? What am I?!"

His expression clouded. "Um...I guess, uhh..."

That was the worst possible response he could have given. The welling tears stung like sand and blurred Romano's vision. "You have no fucking idea what you're doing, do you?!"

"I'm sorry," he said, eyes wide. "I'm just surprised that you want to talk about this now."

He shifted his weight around before sighing and moving to the bed, slumping down on the edge. Romano stayed standing in front of him. His heart thudded as he braced himself for what was coming. Antonio's chin fell to his chest. His dark bangs shaded his face, hiding his eyes.

"I never meant for things to get like this," he said. "I only wanted you to let me in. I always felt like you were still closing yourself off from me, and I didn't know how to get you to see how I felt about you. It was so frustrating for me, and when things kept escalating I was just hoping that you'd grow to love me back. I didn't know how to get around your barriers, and because you're afraid of commitment—"

Romano's temper flared. "Don't make this my fault!"

"I'm sorry!" he cried. "I didn't mean it like that!"

Romano knew it was true, that he held back because he was afraid, but he still didn't like that Antonio had said it. And who was he to talk about commitment? Even Gilbert had the decency to ask someone to be their boyfriend before sleeping with them. "You're afraid of commitment, too!"

"I was afraid of rejection. Not commitment," Antonio said firmly.

"You..." Romano lost his words for a moment. "You were afraid I would reject you?"

That pained expression that Romano hated so much was etched on his face again. The last thing that Romano ever wanted to do was hurt Antonio. "You couldn't look me in the eyes for hours after I first told you that I loved you," Antonio said.

Romano's excuse was a weak one. "I thought you were just saying that to get in my pants."

"I'd already gotten into your pants," Antonio reminded him. "I didn't need to tell you that I loved you to do that. And do you really think I would lie about something like that? I've never lied to you, Romano. Not once."

He paused a second.

"Except for maybe that time when you were, like, ten and you asked me what 'tienes un condón?' meant."

Romano flushed, remembering the incident. "You were a terrible influence on my childhood."

Antonio laughed modestly. Bit by bit, Romano's stern font softened and he cracked a smile in return.

It had never been just about sex; the "casual" part of their relationship was an illusion. Romano had known Antonio for so long that of course they had a connection beyond physical desire. That was the whole reason Romano was frightened. For all they'd been through Romano had striven to be the less devoted one, and yet, with how much he cared for Antonio, he couldn't imagine how anything might compare to it.

"You were really afraid that I was going to reject you?" Romano asked, still trying to wrap his mind around it.

Antonio's mouth twitched upwards in a cheerless simper. "Wouldn't you have rejected me, though?"

If Antonio had asked before their chance at a relationship had become so thoroughly tainted, even as cowardly as Romano was, he wouldn't have dreamed of refusing him.

"No," he said. "I wouldn't have."

Romano thought the exclusively past-tenseness of his words was apparent enough, and it took him a moment to realize why Antonio lit up in response. Even then, he was so goddamn radiant, more so than he'd been in a long time, that Romano found himself unable to correct the misunderstanding.

Antonio wasted no time in throwing open the door and proclaiming for everyone in the apartment to hear that he and Romano were a couple. Romano heard his younger brother shouting something from his room, but he didn't pay attention to what he was saying. Gilbert was just in the hallway. He'd frozen in place when he heard the news and was now staring back and forth between Antonio and Romano, until he stopped and his eyes rested solely on Romano.

If looks could cut like knives, the look that Gilbert gave Romano would have killed him.

This story is now also on AO3 and, as far as compulsive editing goes, it is a much more user-friendly platform.