"Where are you going?" asked Antonio, fidgeting nervously on the couch as he watched Lovino step into his shoes, swinging his sweatshirt around his shoulders impatiently.

"Out."

"Why?"

"Because." The door slammed behind him. His echoing footsteps, growing more distant with each step, resounded through the apartment.


Antonio followed his suspicions to the grave where he had found Lovino the night before. He half expected Lovino to run or hide as he approached, but he didn't move, just opened one eye and stared at him. Antonio loped over to him and sat down heavily, the dirt erupting in clouds under him and settling on his jeans, shirt, and arms. He leaned against the gravestone.

Not knowing what to say, he settled for "Sup." Lovino said nothing.

"Is this your.. mother's grave?" guessed Antonio, judging from what he had overheard the previous night. Lovino hesitated, then nodded silently.

"Did she, like, die on Christmas or something?" he asked, getting another nod in response.

"Shit, I'm sorry, man," he said. "That sucks ass." Another nod.

"Look, its getting cold, and you just brought that thin sweater- why don't we start heading back?"

Lovino shook his head, breaking the cycle. "You go," he said. "I'll stay."

"I'm not leaving without you."

"You will, eventually."

"I won't. Don't you remember what I told you?" Seeing Lovino's puzzled expression, Antonio elaborated,

"You'll never have to be alone anymore."


It was dark by the time they left the grave and began to silently head back to the apartment. Antonio figured Lovino didn't want to talk, and so asked no questions. Finally Lovino spoke up, splitting the silence without warning.

"It was a car crash," he said quietly.

"Huh?"

"How she died."

"Oh." Antonio scratched his neck awkwardly, not knowing the correct response, or if there even was one. "I'm sorry."

Lovino shrugged. "She was drunk. It would have happened sooner or later anyway, if I hadn't.." He trailed off, his gait suddenly stiff.

"Hadn't what?"

"It was-" Lovino licked his lips, trying to find the words. "It was sort of my fault, too."

"I'm sure it wasn't," Antonio began to appease him, but Lovino just continued mercilessly.

"She was yelling at me, and wasn't looking where she was going, so she crashed."

"That's not your fault- she was drunk, right?"

He shrugged again. "Yeah," he said, kicking a pebble as he walked, "But still. It kinda was."

Antonio knew it would be a waste of time to even try to argue with him, and so attempted to change the subject into a happier one.

"What was she like?" he asked. "Your mom, I mean."

Lovino hesitated, his jaw clenching briefly. "I didn't like her much," he said eventually.

"Huh? Why?"

"I dunno- she didn't like me, so I didn't like her."

"Oh, c'mon- I'm sure she loved you!"

Lovino shook his head. "She didn't. She was always telling me how she wished she could go back in time and get an abortion done."

Antonio was stunned, not knowing what to say. "..That's not very nice," he said carefully. "What about your dad?"

Lovino scoffed. "Never met him," he said. "She didn't even know who he was."

"Like a.. a sperm donor?" suggested Antonio.

Lovino groaned, a hand to his forehead. "No, I mean there were so many guys she didn't know which one."

"Oh." They continued to walk on, Antonio shocked into silence. "T-Then what about your brother?"

"Different guy, same story."

"Oh, so you two have different dads? Is that why you're…" Antonio struggled to find an appropriate word, "..dark, and your brother isn't?"

Lovino nodded once, face tilted towards the ground.

"When did she.. pass? Was it recently?"

"I was eight when it happened. Feli was six. After that I lived in a home."

"Oh, really? I used to work in a home, you know. What was it like?"

Lovino shrugged. "Dunno. I was kinda lonely, I guess. Feli got adopted by some rich Austrian couple, so I was alone."

"You didn't make any friends?"

Lovino chose not to answer that one, hugging himself tightly. His pace quickened a little, and Antonio jogged to keep up with him.

"Sorry," he apologized. "That was insensitive."

"What was your one like?" Lovino's question startled Antonio. "The one you worked in," he continued, tips of his ears red.

"Oh, it was great! I loved working there! I was technically supposed to teach the kids English since most of them only spoke Spanish, but I mainly just messed around and made them cookies and bought crayons and shit. I would let them play hairdresser with my hair, and they'd put it up in little pink barrettes and ribbons and smear lipstick across my face, stuff like that." Antonio laughed fondly at the memory.

"Sounds nice."

"Yeah, it was pretty great- and all the kids were so cute, too! But not as cute as you," added Antonio quickly, grinning cheekily when Lovino glared at him in return. "Didn't you get to do fun stuff like that in your home?"

Lovino shook his head. "The home was run by nuns, and they were all pretty strict.."

"Aww." Antonio nudged Lovino's shoulder, grinning. "Well, if you want, you could make up for lost time and do my hair and nails when we get back!"

"Fuck no," berated Lovino, but a small giggle slipped out as he nudged Antonio back, harder and more forcefully, yet still kindly and with humor.

"Or I could put ribbons in your hair and you could put on a dress and-"

"I said no!" yelled Lovino, voice suddenly harsh. He stopped, in the middle of the road, looking down. Antonio noticed he had pulled the sleeves of his shirt over his hands, playing with the frayed strings anxiously.

"Lovi?" asked Antonio cautiously, afraid he had set him off. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Lovino began to walk again at a fast shuffle, kicking up dirt and pebbles in his efforts to get away from Antonio.

Antonio began to jog after Lovino, but he just broke into a run, speeding away from him until he ran out of breath and doubled over, coughing and gasping. Antonio slowed to a stop beside him.

"C'mon," he said, placing a hand on Lovino's spasming back. "Let's sit down for a while."

"Don't touch me!" Lovino wrestled away from him, stumbling backwards a few steps. His eyes shone in the dusk.

"Okay, okay," Antonio held up his hands in a surrender pose, taking a step back. "Just sit down."

Lovino eyed him suspiciously for a moment longer, then sat down heavily in the dirt by the side of the road. Antonio plopped down next to him, listening to the wheezing and whistling of his lungs as he fought for air. After several minutes he seemed to quiet down enough to talk.

"Better?" asked Antonio, but he just received a glare. "Look, I'm sorry," he continued, not sure what he was apologizing for.

"Can I just ask you something, though?" he asked apprehensively. Lovino wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked at him questioningly, waiting.

"That picture I found- it was you, wasn't it? The two girls were you and your brother?"

Lovino stiffened. Then slowly, as if forcing himself, he nodded slightly.

"Did you used to be a girl or something?"

"No!" said Lovino indignantly, then paused. "Well, yes. Sort of."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Ma really wanted a daughter." Lovino folded his hands in his lap, staring at them. His ears were red with embarrassment. "She was so sure I'd be a girl, she didn't get an ultrasound or anything. She had a name all picked out- Lavinia. But when I.. you know, and I was a boy, she didn't know what to name me, so she just named me Lovino."

Seeing Antonio's confused expression, Lovino quickly explained, "Lovino isn't a real Italian name- it means 'I ruin.' It's just the male form of Lavinia. She didn't have time to look up a real boy's name, so she just converted my girl name into masculine form."

"Oh." Antonio nodded. "That's pretty cool, actually."

Lovino shook his head. "Not really," he said, dejected. "Because-" he broke off, face flushing with embarrassment. "Because she still wanted a daughter. So she- she made me be a girl." He buried his face in his hands, ashamed.

"You mean she cut it off?" Antonio couldn't hide a glance downwards.

"No!" he cried, scandalized, face bright red as he covered himself conscientiously with his hands. "She just made me wear dresses and talk feminine, that kinda shit."

"What did Roma think of that?" laughed Antonio.

"He didn't know at first," Lovino told him, voice muffled slightly. "Ma was just sixteen when she had me, and she didn't know who the dad was so she couldn't marry or anything, so Roma.."

"He threw her out?" suggested Antonio dryly. Lovino lifted his head slightly, looking at him in amazement.

"How'd you know?" he asked.

Antonio gave a wry laugh. "Just a hunch," he said. "Your granddad has an awful habit of kicking family out if they displease him."

"Shush." Lovino elbowed Antonio in the ribs, but continued. "So yeah. She was sixteen, she didn't know which guy it was, and I think most of them were older anyway- some were married, so even if they knew they were my dad, they wouldn't say. And she couldn't really get a good job or anything, so she- she-"

"Was she a hooker?"

"No!" said Lovino indignantly. "She just stole credit cards, that's all."

"That's all?!" repeated Antonio incredulously. "That's illegal!"

Lovino shrugged nonchalantly. "She stole credit cards and she'd find boyfriends to stay with until they got tired of her or violent or whatever, then she'd steal their car or wallet and move again. We never stayed anywhere for more than a couple weeks. Then she had Feliciano, and again, she made him be her daughter. I don't think he really minded though." Lovino laughed dryly. "He was always saying how he liked having a breeze down there when he wore skirts."

Antonio laughed. "That does sound like him."

"And he could hang around little boys without anyone freaking out, because they thought he was a girl," continued Lovino, smiling slightly at the memory.

"Didn't you like being a girl?" asked Antonio, grinning mischieviously.

"No!" said Lovino, face flooding with color. "It was awful- especially at the home, and then Roma…"

"Why? What happened?"

Lovino bit his lip, shoulders tensing. "I dunno," he said finally. "Stuff."

"Stuff?"

"Stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"You know.." Lovino gestured limply. "Stuff. Like," he extrapolated, seeing Antonio's confusion, "People were always asking me, 'which are you?'- and I- I wasn't sure either, so I'd just tell them to fuck off or something, so I was always getting in trouble or getting hit or having to put soap in my mouth for swearing, that shit."

Antonio chuckled. "That sounds like you," he said. He frowned. "They hit you?"

"Not badly- it was just the belt, whacking me on the head with a ladle or big spoon, or slapping me with a ruler, stuff like that."

"Oh god, that's awful," enthused Antonio. Lovino looked at him, confused.

"No, it's not," he said slowly. "I mean, I deserved it."

"No one deserves that!" said Antonio fervently. Lovino just shrugged.

"I did," he said.

"But- but Roma didn't hit you, right?"

"Not really. Only when I acted like a girl or cried. He wanted a son, you see," explained Lovino. "But he got Ma instead, so he didn't really pay much attention to her when she was growing up. That's probably why she turned out… like she did." His eyes flashed green for a second in the haze. "Then she had me, and Feli, and suddenly Roma got interested, because now he could raise sons. Even though he threw her out, he asked if he could have us. She said no, turned us into daughters, and ran off. I think for a while he followed, trailing us and trying to get custody, but eventually he gave up. Then Ma died, and Feli and I went into separate homes, so it took him another year to find us both and get custody. We went back home with him, and he…"

"What? What did he do?"

"He.. made us be boys again. So no dresses, no Lavinia-ing or Felicia, no crying or acting in any way he thought was 'girly.' I remember," Lovino laughed faintly, "Once he tried to play catch with me and Feli, but Feli just sat down and made daisy chains, and I was so afraid of the ball that I'd run away from it. He was so mad."

"Aaw." Antonio grinned, reaching over and ruffling Lovino's hair. "I bet you two were cute kids."

"Feli was," mumbled Lovino. "Not me, though. I was too dark and skinny."

"Yeah, but that's what makes you so cute!"

Lovino shrugged off his words, not believing him. "But generally," he continued, ignoring Antonio's words, "It was just very… uncomfortable."

"Why?"

"Well, it was wrong, wasn't it? I'm a boy, I shouldn't dress like.. that. And I knew that, but I looked like a girl, and I wasn't really sure what I was, you know?"

"Like," Lovino continued restlessly, sensing Antonio's confusion, "I still look sort of like a girl. Even you said I look andro-genus, and though I know I'm a boy, I sometimes-" He broke off suddenly.

"You still want to be a girl?"

"No! I'm happy being a boy. It's just- I'm not sure if I really am a boy." He bit his lip, downcast. "I mean, I don't look like one, and I'm- you know,"

"Gay?"

Lovino nodded slightly.

"But being gay doesn't make you less of a man!" insisted Antonio. "If you want to be male, you are. It doesn't matter whether you look male or not."

Lovino shrugged dejectedly. "That's not what Roma says. He says that because of what I was when I was little, it made me confused, and that's why I'm.. like this."

"Fuck Roma!" insisted Antonio passionately. "He doesn't get to decide whether you're a boy or a girl or neither; whether you're straight or not- you do!"

"Yeah, but whenever I disobey him or do something wrong, bad shit always happens! So if I just stay good and listen to him, everything will be okay."

"That's not a very sound ideology," advised Antonio.

"I don't care. If it keeps anyone else from getting killed, it's good enough."

"No one's going to get killed because you're gay! Roma's old and sick anyway, and your mom was drunk! None of these incidents are your fault!"

"But both times they were mad at me, they were yelling at me, and then they died!"

"So?"

"So there must be something wrong with me!"

"But there's nothing wrong with you!" insisted Antonio.

"There is if I kill everyone I love! At this rate, you'll be next!"

"Wha.." Antonio gawked at Lovino. "Did you just-"

"Nothing! I said nothing!" said Lovino frantically, racing to cover his tracks. "W-Why don't we go back?" he suggested hastily, face bright red. He stood up abruptly. It took a moment before Antonio was able to move again, frozen from shock. Finally he managed to stand up shakily, following Lovino nervously.


Face still burning, it took a while for Lovino to unlock the door as his hands were shaking terribly. Yet Antonio seemed to be feeling as awkward as he, unable to look him in the eyes properly, and constantly rubbing the back of his neck like he always did when he was embarrassed.

Lovino shed his sweatshirt, dropping it on the floor in a circle around his legs. He stepped out of the ring of cloth and slid his bare feet from his shoes, his feet making slapping sounds as they hit the floor. He padded into his room but did not lock the door behind him, so Antonio took it as an invitation and followed. He found him sitting, crosslegged, on the mattress, staring intently at the photo of the two girls whom Antonio now knew to be Lovino and his brother. Then, to his surprise, he patted the area next to him, indicating for Antonio to sit beside him, which he gladly did.

As he sat down on the mattress, it's weight curved towards him and Lovino came tumbling down, slamming against his shoulder.

"Shit, sorry, are you okay?" Antonio apologized, but he couldn't hide a chuckle.

"Fine," said Lovino brusquely, straightening back up, but yet again his body collapsed into Antonio's.

"Fuckin' gravity," Antonio heard him mutter, as he was shoved unceremoniously off the bed. "You can sit on the floor," Lovino told him.

"Sorry," laughed Antonio, running a hand through his hair. They sat, for a minute or two at least, in uncomfortable silence. He had the feeling that Lovino was waiting for him to say something, but he had no clue what to say. Eventually he settled for,

"It sucks your mom died." As soon as he had said the words, he regretted it, and quickly rushed to cover them. "I- I mean, weather's nice today."

Lovino rolled his eyes, but Antonio thought he might have seen the tiniest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"It's fine," he said.

"Th- The weather, or your.." Antonio trailed off.

Lovino looked at him pointedly. "What do you think?" Seeing that Antonio was still confused, he sighed and said, "My mom."

"Oh. Sorry."

"But, you know, whatever." Lovino shrugged. "She was a bitch anyway." A thought seemed to come to him, and he said, smirking slightly, "I got a cool scar in the crash, though. You wanna see?"

"Sure." Antonio inched closer to the mattress, so his kneecaps were touching the side of it. Slowly, almost seductively, Lovino lifted the left corner of his shirt until it was just under his ribs. A thin white line, vivid against his dark complexion, was etched into his skin, beginning below his lower rib and continuing down his hip. Part of it was hidden by his jeans.

A hot feeling, like he had just swallowed a bowl of soup, started in his lower half, spreading to every part of his body. Mesmerized, he reached out a stray finger, touching it lightly to the start of the scar. Lovino gasped aloud and he pulled back quickly.

"D- Does it still hurt?" he asked worriedly.

"No!" chastised Lovino, his face red. He looked away. "Y- Your hand is just cold, that's all." He peeked at Antonio out of the corner of his eye. His heart leapt, enticed by just this simple gesture.

"Oh. Right. Sorry." Antonio blew on his hands, rubbing them together to generate heat. He gently lay his index finger on the spot he had previously touched. "Better?" he asked softly.

Lovino bit his lip, nodding.

Slowly Antonio traced down the scar, feeling Lovino's midriff rise slightly as he breathed. The hotness inside of him was almost unbearable now, bubbling like a pot ready to overflow. His hand reached the edge of Lovino's jeans and stopped.

"And it-" Lovino swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. he was finding it hard to speak all of a sudden, his heart beating so rapidly he was worried he might faint. He felt dizzy, almost, with Antonio's touch; yet for some reason, he wanted more.

"It continues down my- my thigh," he spoke, voice getting quieter, more nervous with every word, until the last word was barely a whisper.

Faithfully Antonio's hand slid down his hip, cupping it for one heart-pounding moment, then continued down his thigh. The hotness inside Antonio was intolerable now, threatening to consume him. He had to touch Lovino more, had to feel more, or else he would surely die. Unable to speak, he stared into his eyes, hoping he might find some answer, some explanation for this heat, desire to feel and kiss and touch every inch, every crevice of his body.


Lovino knew he should stop Antonio, should shove him off and slap him until his whole face was raw; yet for some reason, he couldn't seem to be able to bring himself to do it.

Think of Roma, he told himself. Think of him lying there, sick, in the hospital because of you. But still the sensation of Antonio's hand on his thigh, moving slowly, enticingly, sending waves of warmth and pleasure coursing through him stunned him into inaction. He could barely breathe, his whole body immobilized, and all he could do was stare into Antonio's eyes helplessly, entangling himself further and further into desire.

Antonio's hand paused on Lovino's thigh. He somehow managed to tear his eyes from Lovino's for a brief second, whispering slowly,

"I never got my Christmas present."

Lovino's eyes widened, his heart skipping a beat. "Wh- what do you want?" he croaked, throat dry.

"Is.. is it okay if I…" Antonio's eyes darted around the room nervously. He gulped. "...If I kiss you?"

"Uh…" Lovino's gaze flicked briefly down to Antonio's hand, still on his thigh. He should say no, he knew that, yet some part of him still held on to the brief whims of romanticism buried deep inside him, egging him on. He wanted to not want this, to feel disgusted and offended instead of excited, but as always, his mind and body seemed to operate on different levels. Maybe if they kissed just once, the feelings would go away and he would be free again.

Lovino took a deep breath, steeling himself, and then nodded, unable to look Antonio in the eyes anymore, he was too embarrassed.

Antonio smiled nervously, lopsided. "Okay," he said, readying himself, and began to lean in. His eyes closed, but Lovino's remained open, widened in fear. He could hardly move, he was so nervous. The pleasant, fluttering sensation in his chest dissipated, constricting him until he couldn't breathe. Why had he agreed to this?! Roma would surely die, and it would be his fault, again- he didn't want to kill another person, he'd never be able to live with the blood of two of his family members on his hands! He had to do something, he urged himself, but his body wouldn't move and oh god, he could feel Antonio's breath against his lips, warming him once more- maybe this wouldn't be so bad- no, what was he thinking?! He had to stop him, had to shove him off or something, but he was paralyzed, for better or for worse.

Just as Antonio's lips brushed against Lovino's, he squeezed his eyes shut and blurted,

"What about Emma?"


Antonio's whole body froze. His eyes snapped open, a jolt of ice running through him. The warmth dwindled away and withered, replaced by cold fear, panic, and a churning sensation in the pit of his stomach. He backed off of Lovino, crawling backwards off the mattress, accidentally knocking over the screen separating their beds in his attempts to flee.

"I-" he croaked, worried he might throw up. "Sorry- I- Oh, god-" He rose to his feet unsteadily, a rushing feeling in his skull as if he were falling, the walls of the already small room closing in on him, crushing him. He leaned against the door for support and it swung open, causing him to crash to the floor. He scuttled backwards like a crab, kicking the door shut. He managed to rise, legs shaking beneath him, and he fled into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.


With shaking hands he violently twisted the knob on the sink. Murky brown water sprayed in all directions, and he stuck his head under without waiting for it to become clean.

The cold water hit him so hard it stung, and he welcomed it gladly. Droplets dripped down his neck and ran down his spine, making him shiver. Water clogged his nostrils and mouth until he couldn't breathe, and still he didn't pull away.

You deserve this, he told himself, fighting for air. You cheated on Emma. You hurt Lovino. You deserve this.

Yet self-preservation kicked in and he turned the tap off, though he remained there, bent over the sink crudely, breathing heavily.


Lovino heard the bathroom door slam and flinched at the harsh, abrasive noise. He let his body fall onto the mattress limply, bouncing once before settling. He couldn't seem to find it in him to move, his body paralyzed. The places where Antonio had touched him still tingled, and his chest hurt dully, head buzzing like it was full of bees.

You did the right thing, he told himself. This is for the best.

But then why didn't it feel like that?


Hello. I hope things make a bit more sense now, but if not, i'll divulge:

In the canon series, when Romano and N. Italy were young, they wore dresses, and Holy Roman Empire even thought N. Italy was a girl. I wanted to somehow incorporate that into my story, hence the photograph, Lovino and Feliciano's gender confusion and crossdressing, etc. I've been hinting at this throughout the story, but I must not have made it clear enough because it doesn't seem like anyone picked up on them.

In chapter 9, "burns," Lovino reveals that he knows what size he is in womens clothing. In chapter 13, he wonders if he became a girl (again), Antonio might like him the way he likes Emma. This is also shown in chapter 21. In the chapter before then, chapter 20, Lovino recalls when he was kicked out by Roma, who had caught him dressed as a girl. We now know that Roma, after having wanted sons and trying so hard to 're-educate' Lovino and Feliciano into behaving like the sons he wanted, is furious not just because he thinks Lovino is gay, but because he fears that he is growing back into the girl he used to be. In the conversation between him and Lovino in chapter 27, he discusses this, even calling Lovino 'Lavinia,' his old name. In addition, he says 'you're not my grandson.' He is not, how I wrote it, disowning Lovino, he is stating that he isn't a "real man" and is more like his granddaughter.

Also, the fact that Lovino isn't a real boy's name has always confused me. Female forms of it exist, like Lavinia or Lavina/Lovina, but I've never heard of anyone being named Lovino/Rovino before, probably just because you'd have to be a huge ass to name your kid 'I ruin,' which is the meaning of Rovino. I wanted to somehow explain the origins of his name in my story, and came up with perhaps he was originally meant to be named something else, aka Lavinia. I also thought that since someone would have to be really awful to name their kid Lovino/Rovino, even by accident, his mother must be kind of a horrible person, which is why I made her not very nice in this story.

I also just really like the idea of a genderqueer/genderfluid Lovino.

In addition, I also explained briefly in chapter 27, the scene in chapter 18 where the other farmers are ostracizing Lovino. Because of him (indirectly), according to Roma and the farmers, there was a virus that killed a lot of grapes, resulting in a poor harvest one year, which led to bad revenue for the company, so they were forced to lay off several workers. The farmers blame Lovino for their friends/relatives/spouses losing their jobs, even though they may not be very religious, for they just need a scapegoat and Lovino was the most convenient one at the time. I hope this clears some things up.

And about the inaccuracies in describing Italy: I am very, very sorry. I started this fic on a whim, without doing research, and it developed into something much more. I realize that although knowing a bit about the history of Italy, that does not mean that I know at all what it is like to live in Italy, or what it is like in modern times. Thank you very much for informing me of these inaccuracies. I honestly just (wrongly) assumed Italy was like America, or at least I did when I started the story, but that was a very narrowminded and unfounded assumption, and I truly am very sorry.

Once I finish this story, I will probably just delete it because of all the trouble I've caused and people I've hurt or offended.

I'm really, really sorry.