Chapter Ten: Double Date
Lovino wasn't quite sure what to think when he and Antonio were separated from the main group. Of course, because Arthur and Michelle had disappeared to try some of the park's fish and chips earlier, the two of them had only found Antonio and Lovino when they returned to the spot where they had abandoned the others. The two couples stood awkwardly in the middle of the park, trying to get in contact with the other members of their party. None of their calls connected, however, and Arthur commented dryly that, "They must be having fun without us. Well, two can play at that game!"
That was solid reasoning for the other two - not including Lovino - to form their own party. The three idiots seemed to be having a blast with Antonio and Arthur dragging everyone onto thrill rides and roller-coasters to see who was man enough between the two of them, but Lovino was starting to feel rather queasy. He hated adrenaline pumping rides because, damn it all, humans were supposed to be planted on the ground or else God would have gave them all wings or fins or some shit, and the Italian began questioning why he had even agreed to come to the fucking theme park again.
Oh, right.
Lovino glanced at Arthur, who was playing some shooting game at a booth loaded with gigantic stuffed animals. The party of four decided to refrain from going on any more thrill rides and roller-coasters - Arthur's suggestion - in favor of arcade games. Arthur and Antonio had faced off game after game - Dance Dance Revolution, Guitar Hero, Skee Ball, zombie or alien first-person shooters - and after tying in the building with almost every game there was, the two rivals decided to expand their scope to the booths outside instead.
"Chigi!" Lovino squealed, feeling something drop onto his head. He jerked his head and found Arthur smirking deviously at him. "Che cazzo? What was that for, bastard?!" He subconsciously moved his hand over his heart, feeling it pound violently, and tried to calm himself. The Briton then delicately placed a stuffed toy into Lovino's hands. The Italian stared bemusedly at the white toy dog in his hands and wondered, briefly, what it was doing there. "Hey, bastard, what am I holding?"
"It's a Maltese, silly boy," Arthur mused, "with its hair groomed in a puppy cut style. I thought the long haired coats were a bit ridiculous, and this one suited you more. It's all prim and proper... in terms of appearance."
"The fuck? I don't want this," Lovino replied resentfully, wondering just how would the bastard react. Would he be hurt? Good, because Lovino was - well, he wasn't hurt that Arthur invited Michelle instead of him! Besides, he didn't really want to hurt Arthur... Just a bit of revenge. When a dark emotion - pain or hurt or something - passed through the blond's eyes, however, Lovino felt shame and guilt flood his mind, washing out his prior motivation. The Italian huffed haughtily and stuffed the toy dog into his satchel, snapping, "But if it makes you feel better, bastard, I'll take it! Personally, I thought you would get something a little bigger!"
Arthur chuckled and replied, "I did, twice actually, but I traded it for two smaller prizes each. It would be ludicrous to have to carry a large prize around the entire theme park when we haven't even covered half the grounds!"
"What were the other prizes?"
"Chelly's carrying one around in her purse," Arthur answered shortly. Lovino glanced at the girl walking in front of them, studying the prizes offered by each booth with interest. "She liked the Papillon dog. I had Antonio take a short-haired Chihuahua to give to his baby cousin."
"And the fourth?" Lovino pressed tentatively. If Arthur hadn't mentioned it, he most likely didn't want to talk about it. Still, the younger Italian thought the subject virtually harmless. Arthur held out a small two-toned Yorkshire Terrier in his palm before wrapping his fingers around it and shoving it into one of the larger pockets of his jacket, zipping it up and securing it.
"For my little brother."
Lovino was silent, not wanting to prod any further. This would make it the second time the blond said anything about his family, and Lovino didn't want to push his luck with the lion and his notorious temper - not that Lovino's was much better. Fortunately, Arthur didn't say anything more on the topic and was happy to divert the attention onto Antonio. "What do you have there, wanker?" the Briton called out to the Spaniard, who was evaluating the set-up of a ring toss. "I'll beat you at this one as well!" Wrapping an arm around Lovino's shoulders, he pulled the Italian along. Lovino was surprised to find that Arthur's body was, despite the summer heat, cool and subconsciously leaned into the touch, finding it rather comfortable. Antonio immediately narrowed his eyes at the sight, but Arthur quickly retracted his arm and paid for their game.
"How are you feeling?" Michelle asked of the Italian with a gentle smile on her lips.
"Fine, what makes you ask, bella?" Lovino replied in a courteous tone. He wasn't flirting with her; he couldn't. After all, it was only right to treat another man's lover with respect. He couldn't even dislike her. He was a man, after all, and he would be a gentleman.
"Brows was pretty worried about you," Michelle elaborated quietly, folding her hands behind her back. "He said you looked kind of sick after our last ride. Of course, he would notice something that like." Her last statement was spoken with a warm smile filled with admiration. Lovino had to turn away for a moment; there was an unpleasant churning in his stomach that was slightly relieved when he didn't have to confront that sort of face. When she spoke again, the Italian boy politely made eye contact with her. "He doesn't act like it, but he's actually really concerned about other people." Bitterness crossed her lips briefly, and had Lovino not been watching, the brunet would have missed the sorrowful expression on her visage. "He always takes trouble into his own hands. Sometimes we wonder if he has a death wish - Francis and me - because he's always troubled with something." Lovino remembered the first time they held a real conversation. Arthur accused him of having problems; Lovino hadn't realized then that the same could have been and could still be said about the English boy. "This time, it's my fault, I think."
Lovino blinked in confusion. "I don't think you're troubling him," the Italian told her bemusedly. Really, the brunet thought with a mental scowl, that so-called specially privileged bastard always had to twist and turn the plot, confusing him even more and even worse than before. Was he making this girl cry now? "I... I think he cares about you."
She laughed. "Yes, I suppose if he didn't, he wouldn't help me," Michelle reaffirmed his previous statement. "Francis always says that he wishes that Brows would help himself a little more than he does other people though. He can't take care of himself, apparently, but don't tell him that either Francis or I said that." She gave him a little wink before humming lightly and joining the others in the ring toss, picking up a dolphin keychain when Arthur managed to score a small prize and clipping it to her purse. Lovino watched as Arthur glared at her lightly before relaxing with a gentle smile and a casual shrug, his indignation diffusing just as quickly as it came. The brunet found that his chest ached slightly but brushed it off as a side effect of the summer heat; there couldn't have been any other meaning to it.
The party of four wandered away from the games and down a scenic route. After stopping for ice cream, Lovino had to ask Arthur what Winston and Elizabeth were doing. The blond replied that Miss Jane was looking after them, and from there the conversation evolved to include Michelle, who wanted to thank Mademoiselle Jane for her help the other day, and Antonio, who wanted to know whom Señorita Jane is.
"Blimey! This is bloody terrible! Where is our bleeding Paul McCartney, blast it all?!" someone exclaimed as they paced in front of an empty stage. The familiar name had caught Arthur's attention, who raised his head to stare face to face with three replicas of The Beatles.
"Is there a problem, gentlemen?" Arthur asked of the three eerily familiar faces. These men had the potential to be really good impersonators...if they didn't talk. They sounded like American wankers trying to sound British, in Arthur's personal opinion, just like Jones. Behind him, Michelle was sighing, muttering, "Not again," while Lovino and Antonio stared both bemused and amused at the same time.
"Hey, kid, you look like you listen to rock!" said the one carrying around a bright red guitar that was supposed to resemble Lucy. He quickly abandoned his fabricated accent in favour of speaking naturally in a voice that sounded somewhat like he came off the West Coast.
"Well, I do," Arthur answered reluctantly, wondering if he had gotten involved in something that he would grow to regret.
"How familiar are you with the Beatles?" asked the one with rounded specs.
"I, err," Arthur tried counting but gave up, "I believe I have their entire collection; I grew up listening to them actually. I'm not so big of a fan that I have everything memorised though." He paused. "Might I ask why?"
"You play bass?"
"Y-Yes?"
"For how long?"
"Roughly six years...?"
"You're hired! We'll need you to put on this wig and play this bass, alright? You feel comfortable with a Höfner? No? Get used to it before show starts."
"You wankers," Arthur seethed, directing his animosity to the trio sitting in the front row, giggling and sniggering and blatantly laughing at his appearance, "will never speak a word of this to anyone." Little did he know that Lovino had snapped a photo of him while he was playing on-stage, dressed in an awkward suit with a wig styled into a chestnut brown bowl-cut, and appearing as though he was having the time of his life.
It wasn't exactly how he imagined playing music with the Beatles, but it'll have to do. Plus, it was the first time he played a Höfner 500/1 violin bass. He'll have to think about investing in one of these beauts in the future.
"Why do they have a random house in here?" Antonio inquired as he poked his head inside the aforementioned building. He blinked upon seeing darkness and the faintest sign of yellow tape with thick black letters reading "caution." The Spaniard returned his head to the rest of his body outside the dark, dreary house. "Maybe it's still under construction."
"It's a haunted house, you bleeding idiot," Arthur sneered dryly, rolling his green eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Are we entering or not?"
"I've never been in a haunted house before," Antonio mused without paying any heed to his English rival.
"I didn't ask if you ever had," Arthur mumbled, making Michelle laugh and Lovino roll his eyes. The blond shoved his way inside, not giving Antonio any more time to think, ushering the Spaniard into the - well, what he thought was - commercialised building. When he heard the echoing dripping of water splashing onto metal and the too-loud-to-be-theirs footsteps, his suspicions were confirmed. Well, this was going to be a bore.
Antonio laughed nervously in front of them. "This is kind of creepy, no?" the Spaniard chirped in his usual carefree manner.
Blast, he just made this git party leader, didn't he?
Arthur tensed, feeling someone clench on the back of his bloody expensive jacket, but when he turned his head to catch a glance of the culprit, he found a flash of hazel eyes flitting about nervously and a bouncing curl. Arthur sighed through his nose and smiled warmly at Lovino before shrugging to himself. Well, it was just a jacket. Still, the blond couldn't help himself from taking the small warm hand from the back of his jacket and into the palm of his left hand, squeezing it lightly when he felt Lovino stiffen.
From what he knew, it was better to have someone with you - the comfort of an actual person - when it came to fears.
Michelle subconsciously locked arms with him, unnerved by the darkness, and he didn't blame her. Nobody knew what was to come after all -
Antonio squealed when a hand reached out for him. It seemed the Spaniard was observing a mummy on display, but the aforementioned mummy was now moving. "Hurry, amigos!" he cried, racing out of the area without casting a glance behind him, assuming his friends were doing the same. "Let's get out of here!"
Arthur nodded to the mummy, saluting in a military fashion, with a wide smirk on his lips to congratulate him on a job well-done, and the mummy, confused, returned the nod and salute.
"It's a family park, so they can't stare the little ones too much," Arthur told his two friends as they tried searching for Antonio. "There will only be simple scares..." The blond trailed away from his original statement to ask what the Spaniard in front of them was doing. The Briton peered over the shoulder of the taller man and found that he was staring sceptically at a rope bridge. "You git, it's a theme park. If you receive any injury from their haunted house, they're liable for it. Now go," with that, Arthur kicked some Spanish ass forward to get the line moving, "you're holding up the line." He could faintly hear new visitors coming and being frightened by the mummy from earlier.
"That's not the problem!" Antonio whined, not wanting to turn back as he stepped cautiously onto the wooden planks. "It's all wobbly! And mist is covering the bottom, so I can't see what's below us!"
"That's the point, you twit," Arthur snapped. In a lower voice, he grumbled, "There's nothing below us," so that he wouldn't ruin any illusion the others were having. Being scared is only half of the fun of going through a haunted house, right? At any rate, after constantly threatening Antonio that he would dare to push him off the bridge, the party finally made it to the end. Unfortunately, Antonio was still being a moron and blocked the rest of the passage to the exit. "Oh, what now?"
"Oi, engrendo de Satanás," Antonio grunted, "is this some kind of joke? I can't get through, but I see the exit over there. Is there some of force field I have to deactivate?"
"What the deuce are you saying?" Arthur mumbled. He raised his right hand and reached around them, finding a cool surface. Peering closer, he found that it reflected their image. "It's a mirror. They're all mirrors. Reflecting darkness... Brilliant. We're lost."
"There's got to be a way out though," Michelle pointed out.
"Yes," Arthur agreed, "but it'll just take a bloody lot of time to find it."
"Well, we have all day, right, Lovi? Lovi?"
"Huh?" Lovino snapped back to reality. The Italian had been staring at their mirror image. He was estranged from his boyfriend, holding the hand of a person who was already seeing someone else, said girl being on his other side. The brunet pulled his hand away, instantaneously yearning for Arthur's cool hand, reluctantly and trudged towards Antonio, pushing him forward. "Start looking for a way out, bastard!"
After being surprised by skeletons dropping from the ceiling, Frankenstein monsters ("Because in Mary Shelly's Frankenstein," Arthur reminded them, "the monster is nameless, although Shelly does refer to him as 'Adam' on occasion, and Frankenstein is actually the name of the doctor.") chasing them around with plastic cleavers, werewolves and vampires battling it out in the middle of the room and consequently blocking all exits, and some kind of zombie clown chainsaw man following them around, the party finally found the escape door, and Lovino made a point to stay away from that fucking sexy bastardo leone.
"Brows, do you mind?" Michelle inquired with pleading eyes. "I did tell them that I would be here, and they did tell me that they would find me... So...?"
Arthur sighed, feigning exasperation, before shooing her off with his hand. "Go, join your friends. Just call me or the frog when you leave and get home, okay? It's not like we're being overprotective, but... Better safe than sorry." The islander girl gave him a nod and a smile before she ran off to join her female companions in place of the three males.
"Is it alright to let her go?" Lovino asked skeptically.
"It's what she wants to do," Arthur replied, shrugging nonchalantly.
"You do understand that you're the third wheel now, right, Kirkland?" Antonio remarked dryly.
"Bollocks."
"We finally found you!" Alfred chirped as he jogged towards the three missing boys. Without giving anyone a moment's rest, he exclaimed for his next venture, "Let's ride on that one next!" The American pointed to the tallest roller-coaster in the park, and Lovino could feel himself paling. Antonio was being dragged along by Gilbert and Francis to catch up on what the Spaniard had missed, and Kiku and Jia Long already vanished with Alfred and Matthew. The younger blond only returned to say, "Hey, Artie, you coming?"
"No, I think I'd rather stay here," Arthur responded nonchalantly, glancing over at Lovino momentarily, before crossing his arms and telling Alfred to go have fun. The American reluctantly left the two of them to rejoin the others. His hesitation was soon lost, however, after three seconds or so.
"Why don't you go with them, bastard?"
"Why don't you?" the blond retorted. He smiled at Lovino and jerked his head towards a random direction. "Come on, let's walk around for a bit. It's no fun waiting for them, especially when the line itself is at least thirty or forty minutes."
Lovino begrudgingly followed Arthur, unable to despise the blond and stay away, around the theme park, asking, "Hey, bastard, do you even know where you're going?"
"Well, getting lost is half the fun," Arthur remarked sheepishly, sauntering casually down the path, expertly avoiding other people. Lovino grunted, wondering if the bastard was walking so fast on purpose, before quickening his pace so that they wouldn't be separated. Still, he avoided all eye contact with Arthur. He wouldn't be taken by this bastard. He couldn't. He had Antonio, who was always so kind to him unlike this sarcastic, mysterious bastard, but... but in his own way, Arthur was comforting to be around. For a moment, when Arthur asked, "Where's your sense of adventure?" Lovino thought he was able to read his mind, but then he realized that the blond was referring to his previous inquiry.
"You're wasting a hell lot of money here, you know," Lovino pointed out as Arthur bought a tuft of cotton candy. The blond ripped the condensed pink powder off the pastel striped cone and stuck it onto his tongue. Lovino watched, mystified and enraptured, as the cotton dissolved on his wet tongue, coating the silver stud piercing through it with sugar.
Arthur retracted his tongue, oblivious to his friend's staring, and shrugged. "I don't need money; I don't have money, actually," he responded casually with a wry smile. "It always seems to replenish whenever I spend it. It's my way of raising Hell, I think, because I can't think of any other way to rebel against her."
"I don't even know what you're talking about, bastard," Lovino grumbled. He was taken by surprise when Arthur nonchalantly shoved a piece of cotton candy past his lips. He flushed, flustered, when he felt cold fingers slipping away from his lips, slick with his own saliva, and grew even more bothered when the blond continued consuming his cotton candy as though nothing had happened. Lovino kept his lips sealed, unable to trust himself with speaking, and waited until the sugar melted and dissolved entirely in his mouth. After a moment, he added, "If you're going to tell me something, then tell it to me, dammit."
The blond chuckled and pulled Lovino onto a bench. The two boys sat side by side, Arthur silently consuming his candy floss, occasionally feeding a piece to Lovino, who arbitrarily opened his mouth to take the offering because it didn't look like the blond would get the idea that, no, Lovino would not be fed and refused to be fed, subconsciously letting his lips linger on the pale fingers from time to time. "All right," Arthur conceded. Lovino assumed that he had been thinking all this time since the blond hadn't even seemed the slightest bit bothered about the fact that he had been feeding Lovino like a pet. "I've nothing to lose, anyway. The truth is that this money doesn't belong to me. I have... a benefactor, so to speak, since I don't have a family any more."
"Earlier," Lovino pointed out, "you said you have a brother."
"I do," Arthur confirmed. "I have four brothers, but... I was disowned." Lovino's eyes widened from surprise. "I don't know if I can call them my brothers any more; I'm not too sure about the legal matters involving the whole ordeal. Nobody's been called into court or anything from what I know. Biologically, we are still blood related though - in one way or another."
Lovino couldn't even imagine being separated from Feliciano for life. Even though the younger Vargas twin was annoying as fuck, he was still Lovino's brother, and although he would never admit it aloud, Lovino cared for him. He didn't and couldn't fathom how anyone could abandon family just like that. Growing alongside and with someone for life, how could they suddenly leave you to yourself - shit, he had brought up a really bad topic, hadn't he?
"Mi dispiace tanto, bas - " Lovino stopped himself. Was Arthur really a bastard then? By definition, what was a bastard? He couldn't recall the archaic definition of a bastard. Dammit, had he been calling Arthur something he really was, by definition, all along? "I-I'm sorry, A-A-Ar - " he gulped, forcing himself to speak the name, no matter how embarrassing it was now " - Art-Arthur."
"What did you do wrong?" the blond mused with an amused smirk, smug even after all of this confessing, as he ran his fingers through Lovino's hair idly, ruffling the brown locks in a manner he supposed to be comforting. His green eyes were distant now, the otherworldly colors truly lost in another world, and Lovino didn't know if he could reach him anymore. "You did nothing wrong, Lovino. You don't have to apologise. You just asked a question, and I was keeping secrets from you. I still am, actually, to be honest, but... I'll tell you some other time, promise. Not here." Arthur smiled upon him. It was filled with dark emotions. Remorse. Regret. Guilt. Shame. Sorrow. Misery. Agony. Lovino wanted to apologize all over again. His eyes were still lost, still gone, still so empty. "It's a theme park. Smile, you git."
"You first," Lovino blurted out immediately, blushing red as soon as he realized what he had said. Arthur laughed softly at his vexation before standing up and throwing away the empty cone.
"Right," the blond confirmed with a subtle nod. "I ought to do as I preach."
He held out a hand to Lovino and smiled genuinely this time. Lovino's cheeks flared. Dammit, the Italian cursed himself, pulling his eyes away, the bastard - no, Arthur - was just too cute and fucking adorable. He hadn't even realized he had accepted Arthur's hand until he was back on his feet.
"I don't think that I've answered your question from earlier - not completely, anyway," Arthur mentioned, "about the money, that is."
"It's alright," Lovino assured hurriedly, turning away from the blond in shame. "You don't have to answer it. Just... I don't care why you do it, but be more careful with money, dammit."
"Of course, Mother," Arthur replied teasingly. "You can still call me a bastard, you know," the blond added. "By definition, a bastard is an illegitimate child, not one who is disowned. Did I said whether my parents were married or not when they had me? No, I don't believe I did."
"O-Oh."
"It's getting dark," Arthur stated idly in an attempt to lighten the mood. "We should be getting back to - oh dear."
"What?" Lovino asked the blond, wide eyed. Had one of his brothers found him at the park right after they were done talking about them? That would be a scene that Lovino definitely did not want to deal with -
"Do you, by chance, remember the way back to that roller-coaster Jones wanted to ride?"
Lovino deflated. Was that it? "N-No, dammit," he grumbled, kicking the toe of his boot meekly. He had been staring at the ground the whole time. What a fucking idiot.
"Damn," Arthur cursed lightly before shrugging. "I forgot the way back. I don't even remember what it was called." He pulled out his phone and checked the time. "Well, if the gits were truly concerned about us, then they would call. I wouldn't be surprised if they forgot about us though."
"Antonio wouldn't," Lovino mentioned indignantly. "The bastard's been way too protective recently."
Arthur smiled somewhat wryly, somewhat bitterly. "I suppose he would. You are a charmer, after all," the blond mused and resumed walking.
Lovino followed after him, grumbling, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Buongiorno, bella!" Arthur mimicked the younger boy in his best Italian accent. He gave a flamboyant and overly dramatic bow with fluid arm movements. "How are you today, you lovely signorina?" The Briton burst out laughing at Lovino's scandalised expression. "Is that not what you do?"
"I have more charm than that, you bastard!"
Arthur smirked victoriously. "There you go, little ankle-biter," he mused. "That's more like it."
He doesn't act like it, but he's actually really concerned about other people, Michelle had told him. He always takes trouble into his own hands... He can't take care of himself.
Lovino faintly understood what Michelle meant now. Arthur was always helping people. He fought the ones who wanted to fight, he threw surprise parties for the ones who were too shy to say they wanted something, he listened to the ones who have too much to complain, and he cheered up the ones who were uncomfortable, depressed, suffocating. He was always doing something for someone else but never for himself. He was a selfless bastard.
"Do you want to ride the Ferris wheel?" Arthur asked of Lovino with a soft smile. "It might give us a better view of where they are. We could plan a meeting place there or the like."
"Y-Yeah, sure," Lovino agreed hastily. He shyly reached Arthur's side, and as they strolled to the large wheel, the back of their hands brushed against each other.
They waited for a moment in line, which moved rather quickly considering how the other guests were more willing to ride the faster attractions. When they reached the front, the Italian began to realize how ridiculous this was. They were two teenage boys alone, riding in a single gondola, on a Ferris wheel. He nearly backed out until he felt Arthur's cool hand pull him along. The younger boy relaxed, feeling how his hand fit perfectly in the blond's, before taking a seat opposite of him. Lovino stared out of the gondola, finding that night had already settled upon the island.
"Blackbird singing in the dead of night," sang a voice opposite of him. Lovino stole a glance at Arthur and found that he was lost in his own world, again, with his green eyes so far away from him and yet so close. "Take these broken wings and learn to fly... All your life... You were only waiting for this moment to arise."
"I didn't know you played guitar, bastard," Lovino mentioned in a half-hearted attempt to capture his attention. He was successful. Arthur snapped out of his daydream and grinned sheepishly.
"I play a little bit of guitar and some piano. What you saw me play was bass," Arthur corrected. "Bass is part of the rhythm team in a band; it help supports the foundation of the song. It's really pleasant, to me, to hear a bassline."
Lovino hummed, not knowing how to contribute to the conversation. He didn't play any instruments himself. He didn't know how to do anything artistic, actually, since that was Feliciano's forte.
A thundering boom and wild crackling brought his attention to the skies. Multiple rains of colors showered downward, dissipating within the darkness, and Arthur stared at them with unmasked awe. Lovino pursed his lips and got up in the gondola and took a seat with Arthur instead. When the blond shot him a curious glance, Lovino clicked his tongue and responded, "I have a better view here," because it wasn't like he wanted to get closer or anything... He leaned against the cool body casually. He just wanted to see the fireworks. That's it. That's all there is to it.
Arthur smiled.
A/N: I just wanted to see Arthur dressed up as a member of the Beatles, honestly. I think it'd be cute. The verse that he sings at the end is an excerpt from "Blackbird" by the Beatles, written by Paul McCartney. I don't own a single word, only an album with that beautiful song.