Lovino made his coffee, enjoying the bitter drink in silence. He hadn't waken any of the other sleeping inhabitants yet, although he had half a mind to just leave everyone alone to wake up by themselves and just set out a light breakfast for them. Screw that strange Frenchman, no way he was waking up that man; not unless he wanted to get harassed. Again.
He wandered down the darkened, chilly hallways with a steamy mug of coffee in hand, and opened the door to the library, only taking a moment to run his fingers over the woodwork of the door. In the dim light, he could barely make out a shadowy lump stretched out on one of the library's large, comfy couches. He drew closer cautiously and recognized a familiar blond head peeking out from a smothering quilt.
Taking a long sallow from his mug, he pulled back the quilt from Arthur's sleeping face. It surprised him to see the other man so relaxed and, from the slight smile on his lips, almost happy. Usually, the Brit had a variety of irritated, angry or amused (the closet thing to happiness Lovino had seen so far) expressions, but a tenseness always lingered on his features, never quite ever fading away.
Mystified by Arthur's sleeping face, he set his coffee down and brushed his fingers against his pale cheek. The blond leaned into the light touch, and he cupped Arthur's cheek gently, afraid to wake him. It struck him that Arthur really is a handsome man. His pale skin looked smooth to the touch and his golden hair mimicked rays of sunlight, shinning like polished gold from the finest metalworkers. But the thing Lovino liked best were those rare jewels that laid behind shut eyelids. They always seemed to watch him, as they did now...
He froze, hoping Arthur wouldn't realize how close they were.
"Hey, love," Arthur murmured, sleep still evident in his hazy green eyes. He slung an arm around Lovino and lazily pulled him down on to the couch with him. He felt Arthur press their lips together softly and he barely stopped himself from kissing back. Something in him awakened, burning hot inside him, willing him to press his lips greedily against Arthur's; but he held himself back.
He didn't understand why he hadn't thrown Arthur across the room yet. The man kissed him! Anyone else, and he'd have surely injured them in some way, but not with Arthur. Instead, he just laid there and let Arthur nuzzle his face against his hair, tangling their legs together like lovers. This confused him, scared him even more than it confused him. The only people he'd ever let kiss him were that blond baker girl, Belle, and the German girl, Lili. Both girls.
Lovino wanted— No, he did not want to kiss Arthur again. He liked girls! His cheeks grew warm and he buried his face in the closest thing in front of him, which happened to be Arthur's chest. A sigh left his lungs and Lovino tried to calm his racing mind, but that's hard to do when your heart beats wildly in your chest and refuses to slow down.
"This is a dream...right?"
Slowly, he looked at Arthur and shook his head. To his surprise, Arthur's face grew a bright shade of red.
"M-My god! I'm— My apologies! I think I was asleep— Well, not that asleep— but that still doesn't excuse my actions," Arthur rambled, sitting up.
"Stop talking... It's fine." I think. Lovino also sat, trying to make sense of his feelings.
"It isn't! I didn't mean to take it like that. I'm sorry."
Lovino grew more annoyed with Arthur's constant apologizing and leaned forward to shut him up...with his lips. Arthur almost immediately kissed him back, relighting the flame of desire he felt before. The kiss deepened and Arthur's pushed his tongue into his mouth, licking and exploring the wet cavern. They pulled back to breathe, but Arthur barely gave him a chance before claiming his lips in another heated kiss.
What was he doing? Lovino quickly pulled back and met Arthur's vibrant green eyes. Quickly, he scrambled up, trying to figure out what was going on with him, because he felt so out of control. Reflexively, Lovino connected his fist with Arthur's cheek and immediately fled the room, not daring to look back. In his rush, he didn't notice the dark shadow by the door.
"Well, mon ami, that was very interesting." Francis stepped towards the stunned Arthur.
"That really happened..."
"That it did." Francis nearly felt bad for the two men. They were so obviously attracted to each other, yet blind to their affections for one another. 'It's like they're facing back to back. Everyone can see them, but they can't see each other,' he thought to his amusement.
"Bloody hell..." Arthur touched his lips and then his cheek, too much in shock to react to him. Poor fool.
"I wish I could hold this image forever and have your shocked expression made into a painting to hang over my mantle. It would be a wonderful conversation starter; the story of the man who got his heart stolen by a handsome Italian. I'm sure Gil will get a laugh out of that," he teased, trying to push his old 'friend' out of his daze.
"Shut it, Francis," Arthur snapped. "And my heart is not stolen, wanker."
"I beg to differ, mon ami. I haven't seen you this lovesick since you know when."
"No, I don't know when, because I've never been lovesick," Arthur said dryly.
"Non? Have you already forgotten the golden little American that, with just one look from his sky-blue eyes and a flash of his bright smile that put even the sun to shame, snuck your heart away before you knew what had happen," he reminded him in an amused tone.
"That is not how that happened, and this is nothing like that time!"
"Sure, sure. Whatever you say, mon lapin."
Arthur glared at him and growled, "Go away."
"As you wish, grumpy crumpet," he sang and slipped away just as a cushion sailed through the air. 'Well, thank god he's feeling better. One would think that little Italian had stolen more than his heart,' he thought, knowing full well that the kiss would weigh heavily on the two men, or just on Arthur, at the least; he still couldn't tell Lovino's feelings well.
He stood alone in the hall, only the sounds from the kitchen broke the silence. The never-ending silence. He never could understand how Arthur could stand to live in such a larger, quiet house. Yes, he knew Arthur didn't have much choice to go anywhere else, but the Brit acted like it was the grandest thing to live in a house that swallowed all sound and happiness that entered it. Although the oppressive feeling seemed lighter than the last time he visited the cold house. Francis wondered if the two Italian brothers had anything to do with this change, and if they did, how much had they also changed with their presence. Looks like it's time to snoop on Lovino a bit and not let him...'Eiffel Tower' get in the way again; he set off for the kitchen.
Without a sound, he sat at the small table and watch Lovino mixed ingredients together in a bowl. Francis noticed the tenseness in Lovino's shoulders as he rubbed flour over his hands and removed a large mass of dough from the bowl. The Italian's hands seemed to know their work well, kneading and pounding the dough, only stopping to sprinkle flour over it, with practiced ease.
"You seem very adept in the kitchen," he commented quietly, hoping to soften up the Italian with a compliment.
"And?" Lovino showed no signs of being startled by him being there or his sudden comment.
"That's good." The tension still didn't leave the Italian's shoulders and he added, "God knows Arthur can't cook to save his life."
Lovino let out a short puff of air that he assumed was a laugh. "Yeah, I figured that out pretty fucking quick."
"I'm not surprised. To tell you the truth, when Arthur first moved here, I was sure he'd die within the first week; whether it be by not eating or by eating."
"You should have seen his stupid face when I made him fucking pasta. You think I fed him the best fucking food on earth."
He ignored Lovino's profanity filled dialogue and said, "You probably did."
The Italian let out another short puff and formed the dough into a large round. "What the hell do you want?"
"Are you making bread? I love fresh bread!" Francis completely ignored Lovino's question, his mouth watering from the thoughts of warm bread.
"You'll have to wait, fuckhead. You can't have much, this is for everyone, dammit," Lovino snapped at him, while he carefully set it aside. "Now, answer the fucking question."
"Ah, can't one just enjoy the early morning?"
"No."
He sighed deeply. This Italian was even pricklier than Arthur. "I would like to know how you feel about Arthur."
"I'm not like that. I like girls," Lovino mumbled and began chopping up tomatoes.
"Aren't there always exceptions to l'amour, non?"
"I know," Lovino growled, sinking the kitchen knife deep into the wooden board he used to cut on.
"You know why Arthur is here, in Italy," Francis stated, "And you do not find him appalling?"
"Of course not. He's still Arthur, whether he likes men or women. I believe I had this same fucking conversation with him when he told me," Lovino grumbled.
"You're surprisingly tolerant, mon ami." He smirked knowingly. "Perhaps Arthur is special to you?"
"Fuck special," Lovino snapped, his face turning slowly red. "He lets us live here without having to pay for it, the least I can do is be 'tolerant', as you put it."
"So, you only accept him because he's letting you live here?"
"Well, no... But I'm saying... I don't know what I'm saying!"
The poor Italian was even more confused than Arthur, and he at least knows what he's feeling. "Take a deep breath. I just want to know how you feel about my dear friend."
Lovino fidgeted and turned his back to him. "Well... He's been good to us, my brother and I. He puts up with my shit and is kind to me, much more than anyone else I've ever met. I owe him a great deal."
"You could always repay him with sex—" BAM! A kick hit him square in the chest, knocking the air from his lungs and sending him backwards in his chair. He laid on the ground, staring at the ceiling, and wondering how he ended up on the floor.
"I've had quite enough of you." Lovino crouched down beside him, cold steel pressed against his cheek. "Is fucking all you think about?"
"N-No!" Francis wasn't a coward, but threaten a blade anywhere near his handsome face and he'd run with refined dignity. "I mean, why don't you repay him with love?"
"What...?"
"He's in love with you!" He said quickly.
"What...?"
"That's enough. Lovino, let me take care of the frog." Arthur came through the door and set a hand on the Italian's shoulder.
Lovino shied away and hurried back to cooking breakfast, trying to hide the blush creeping up his face. "Do whatever the fuck you want."
"You, outside right now," Arthur growled in his ear and pulled him up roughly, dragging him out the kitchen door. "Am I going to have to duel you to get you to leave him alone?"
"Are you willing to lose and embarrass yourself in front of your little Italian love?" He teased weakly, leaning against the wall.
"I will not lose!" Arthur still took the bait and glared at him angrily.
"Oh, then you'll even win if you're fighting with swords?" He smirked, knowing Arthur never could handle a sword as skillfully as him and that the stubborn man wouldn't back down now.
"Just come on!" Arthur pushed him outside, only going back to grab a long, wooden box.
Little did they know, Feliciano watch them timidly from the doorway of his room. Once the two men left for outside, he quickly ran into the kitchen. "Fratello! Fratello! Arthur's going to die!" Feliciano yelled frantically.
"What?"
"Francis— Arthur— Fight!" Feliciano choked out through his growing tears. "He'll die!"
"Slow down, I can't fucking understand you when you talk like that!" Lovino left the wonderful smelling pot on the stove to comfort his little brother.
When Feliciano finally calmed down enough, he said, "Arthur and Francis went outside to go fight. Please, stop them, fratellone! I don't want them to get hurt!"
A noise of exasperation came from the back of his throat and he rubbed a hand over his face. "Watch the food, I'll be back soon."
"Yay! Be careful, fratellone," Feliciano bid him a cheerful farewell as he walked out the door.
It wasn't hard to find the two men, they had only gone far enough away so their yelling wouldn't be heard from the house. They'd found a large field of relatively flat ground and the sun just reached over the tops of the trees. Lovino didn't go running in immediately, but instead held back and chose to watch the two men glare at each other.
Arthur threw down the box he'd been carrying and opened it, withdrawing two thin, fencing swords. Francis easily caught the weapon by the hilt when Arthur, in his anger, threw it at him. From where Lovino stood, he could tell Francis had obviously practiced in the art of swordplay from the way he slid into the proper stance. Arthur, however, drew into a stance that could only be described as inexperienced. He saw the base for an exceptional fencer, but it seemed like no one had bothered to hone his skills.
Lovino could only shake his head as Arthur lunged first at Francis. It was easy to tell the ending of this duel from how Francis held himself with an air of confidence and smirked at Arthur, which only riled the Brit up even more, and it wasn't long before Arthur was on defense.
The wind blew snatches of conversation to him as Arthur and Francis clashed together. "Are...angry, mon cher?"
"Go...hell!...Leave...alone!"
"But...love...deny."
He snuck closer, laying in the tallish grass out of sight, to hear them better.
"Your foot is in the wrong spot again," Francis purred, slapping the whip-like blade against his shin.
Arthur stumbled back, letting out a hiss of pain. The Frenchman sent more hits to his left arm, but he managed to block any more to his legs. He needed to stay on his feet, because Francis never played by the rules that he'd use with any other opponent. Rather than end things with a light tap on his chest, Francis drew things out, hitting his limbs hard enough to leave them numb and slow to react until he could no longer move them.
Another smack to his knee sent him to the ground and he raised the blade to block the sword coming towards him, but it smashed into his wrist. He let out a shout and dropped his sword, his hand twitching to pick up his sword and fight again.
"You bastard! Get the fuck away from him!" Lovino stomped up from seemingly nowhere and pushed Francis away from him.
"Don't look so concerned, chaton." Francis smiled charmingly, hoping to calm the livid Italian. "He is alright."
The Italian growled and picked up his fallen sword, body pulled taunt. Lovino rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, slowly relaxing. "Prepare yourself."
"What? No, you are just a street child! Do you even know how to handle a sword?"
Arthur watched in amazement as Lovino stuck and Francis barely had time to block the lash. "I won't repeat myself."
Slowly, Francis raised his sword, his face set in a grim line. To Arthur, they seemed to stand parallel to each other in mirrored positions, swords poise and eyes locked in a silent battle. Then it all happened in an instant, steel clashed together, blows were traded and they returned back to their original stances. Lovino struck again, raining down a flurry of hits on Francis and with a flick of his wrist, Lovino disarmed Francis.
"It would seem that I lose." Francis smiled and bowed low to Lovino, avoiding the blade pointing at his face. "It was a pleasure sparring with you."
"Hn." Lovino threw down the sword and helped Arthur to his feet. "You get to take care of them."
"That was amazing," he whispered excitedly, nearly falling over when he put weight on his injured knee. This was his first time seeing Francis lose.
The Italian rolled his eyes and wrapped his arm around his waist, urging him towards the house. "You're a fucking idiot. Why were you even fighting against a guy like Francis?"
"To prove a point. Don't sound so negative, I'm fine." In truth, his body ached and stung where Francis hit him, and he already walked with a limp.
"Fucking liar," Lovino mumbled and opened the back door with one hand, helping him through it. "Do you take me for an oblivious idiot? I'm not my brother."
"I know that, but..." He sighed, stumbling on a bump on the floor.
Lovino held him steady and let him lean against his solid body. "Watch it. You're going to walk with a fucking limp for a few days."
"Oh, bloody great." Arthur flushed lightly. He could feel the warmth from Lovino's body seeping through his clothes.
The Italian hurried him into his bedroom and pushed him on to the bed. "Did you even know what you were doing out there?"
The soft comforter soothed his beaten body and injured pride. "Of course. No lad from a family like mine could not know."
"Fuck that. How many lessons did you take?" Lovino shuffled around the room.
"One...two? But that's besides the point, I learned all I needed to."
"No wonder you fucking lost," Lovino grumbled loudly. "I haven't held a sword in years, but I can still fend off a skilled fencer like Francis."
"Oh, sod off." Arthur raised his arm, but quickly set it back down when stabs of pain shot up his arm from his wrist.
Lovino sat him up and began pulling at his shirt. "Strip, you bastard. Show me where he hit you."
"What? No!" He opened his mouth to say more, but the look Lovino sent him left him voiceless and a little bit threatened. Reluctantly, he cautiously slipped his shirt off and tried to ignore his burning cheeks.
"Does this hurt?" Lovino pressed on an especially dark bruise on his arm.
"Ouch! Yes, it bloody hurts!"
"Good, hopefully that'll teach you not to get in fights you won't win." Lovino smirked at him.
"Wanker," he grumbled.
"Don't be a grump. Now, be the doctor you are and tell me how to help you." The dark-haired man scowled at him, placing his hands on his hips.
"There's not much you can do for the bruises...but I suppose this wrist needs attention." Arthur glared at his swollen flesh. "You know where the cabinet is with all my medicines are. In the very back, there is a small pot. It's green and if you look inside, the contents are yellow. Bring that, along with some clean gauze."
The man nodded and quickly walked out. Once Lovino left, he clumsily worked off his trousers to examine his knee. As he fear, falling to his knee had inflamed an old riding injury, making it an angry red. Damn, I'll be limping far more than just a few days.
While he was distracted scowling at his joint, Lovino returned to find him only in his undergarments. "What the fuck?"
"Ah! Uh..."
"Damn, you hit your knee fucking hard." The Italian set down a tray on his small table and glared at the wall.
"Y-Yeah," he cleared his throat, "A few years ago I fell off my horse and this knee has never been the same since."
Lovino nodded and brought the pot and gauze to him. "What do I do?"
"I can do it if you want." Arthur reached for the items with his left hand, ignoring the throb in his upper arm.
"What do I do?" Lovino asked firmly, keeping the items out of his reach.
He sighed deeply; Italian's could be so stubborn, or maybe it was just Lovino. "Rub the salve on my wrist and wrap the gauze around it, then do the same for my knee."
Lovino's hands worked gently, his fingers rubbing the grease-like substance in soothing circles. He almost didn't feel the pain from Lovino's soft touch. Only when Lovino wrapped the gauze around his wrist did he flinch. Lovino kissed the bandages and froze, like he didn't mean to do that. "Sorry... That was just a habit, I use to do that to make Feliciano stop crying."
"It's fine." He cleared his throat again. "We should talk about earlier."
"What do you mean?" Lovino started on his knee, applying the salve generously.
"When we...in the library..."
The Italian looked away quickly, a light blush tinting his cheeks. "Why the fuck were you even sleeping in there anyway?"
"Francis has the bad habit of sneaking into my room at night." Arthur realized how that could be interpreted and added, "He does it to make me angry."
"Sounds like a bitch to deal with it. I brought you some breakfast." Lovino put a tray beside him. The sweet smell of oatmeal reached his nose. "I figured you hadn't eaten yet."
His stomach rumbled silently, but he ignored it. "That's very kind of you, but we really should talk—"
"I have work to do," Lovino interrupted him and turned away.
"Wait!" Arthur jumped up, but as soon as he did, his knee gave out. Before he could crumple to the floor, Lovino grabbed his arm and held him up.
"Mio dio! Can't you just stay!" The Italian shoved him back on to the bed.
"Then don't avoid the bloody problem! I'm trying to talk to you, wanker," Arthur yelled.
"I don't know!" Lovino burst out, his eyes looking everywhere but at him.
Arthur watched Lovino fidget, blush slowly growing brightly on the Italian's cheeks. "I see..."
"No, you don't see! Oh, fuck, I'm so confused and it's all your fucking fault!" Lovino jabbed a finger at him.
"I'm sorry?"
"Just shut up!"
He immediately shut his mouth. Poor Lovino looked so distressed, it made his heart ache for the other man. Many times the feisty Italian opened his mouth to speak, but each time he closed him mouth again and said nothing.
"Can I— Can I kiss you again?"
"Of course, as long as you don't punch me this time," Arthur said teasingly, trying to lighten Lovino's anxiety.
Lovino leaned forward stiffly and pressed his lips against Arthur's. The tenseness in Lovino's shoulders left and the kiss became more heated, tongues dancing between lips. Lovino pulled back and stomped out of the room. "Eat your fucking breakfast!"
Laughter rumbled out of his chest and he pressed a hand to his chest. His heart soared, despite his mind telling it to calm down. Feeling Lovino's lips against his own set off a warmth spreading through his chest, a feeling he hadn't felt in what seemed like years, and a wide smile worked its way on to his face.
Translations (I am not fluent in any of these languages, feel free to correct me):
Mon ami (French): My friend
Mon lapin (French): My bunny
L'amour (French): Love
Non (French): No
Fratello (Italian): Brother
Fratellone (Italian): Big brother
Mon cher (French): My dear
Chaton (French): Kitten
Mio dio (Italian): My god
I know it's been a long time since an update, but during this time off, I not only gave a long chapter; I also decided on the ending. As for GerIta, I don't think it will turn out like that. Yes, there will be the cannon friendship, but I don't know about much more after that. Thank you for reading and reviewing.
-Windy