I TOTALLY UPLOADED THE WRONG VERSION OF THIS OH MY DAYS.

Thanks for the wait on this and the comments/follows etc. as usual. Slowly making my way through the plot now.

I am 52 chapters in and I think this is the first official one with proper spamano in it?

Slight warning for alcohol in this chapter in case this is needed. Also swearing (which I don't usually warn against but there's quite a bit)

oOo

Roma Vargas was famed for his explosive personality as much as his business prowess. Lovino had inherited his short fuse whereas his brother had taken on his cheerfulness, amongst other less savoury features. When Roma was in a foul temper everyone knew about it. It was in everything he did: the way his breathing lowered like an animal taking in a scent and the way he walked in a sharp stomp, down to the way his eyes seemed permanently narrowed and his hands perpetually in tight fists. When Lovino had been younger it had been harder to tell the differences between a good mood and a bad one, but a slap and dismissal was enough to teach him to read the atmosphere. Since then he had developed a sixth sense for his grandfather's temper, and knew when it was one of those days, even without the usual signs. Sometimes it was just a nagging feeling he got, like the feeling of eyes across a room intrusively searching him.

Lovino could tell from his grandfather's aura as they ate around the dining table that today wasn't a bad day, but not a great one either. It was the first time in days that Roma had eaten with them in the evening, and it had been a full two days from Lovino and Feliciano's fight at the graveyard. He had been locked away in his office for long periods at a time and could be frequently heard yelling at people over the phone. The older man looked stressed, but mainly annoyed as he tucked into his evening meal.

Lovino was surprised that their Grandfather had not mentioned the split lip on his brother's face or the light bruising around his own eyes from the punch to the nose. Even with their olive skin hiding the worst of the bruises they were still very apparent, as was the way they were not speaking with each other. Though he hadn't mentioned anything there was the sense he had noticed and was dealing with them through the silent treatment, which in itself was a surprise. Usually there were punishments abound for fighting, even more so if they came to actual blows. Not that he was lamenting their absence.

With Roma on the edge of a foul temper and Feliciano refusing to even breathe too loudly in his vicinity, Lovino had been more than prepared to endure another awkward family meal in silence, presided over by the usual trio of bodyguards. He was therefore surprised when Roma spoke after the first few mouthfuls of food;

"I'm going on a short trip, I will be away for a few days."

At his words, Lovino couldn't help but raise his eyes from his plate where he had been doggedly staring at his vegetables like they were the most interesting thing he had seen all day. He looked in shock at the older man.

"Now, Nonno?" It was not like Roma to leave the city and most certainly not for a few days. Definitely not when they were having so many problems. His grandfather huffed.

"Some business has come up I cannot avoid. One of our contractors is having a few issues." Roma rolled the word around with dislike. "I need to deal with it myself. I won't be gone too long, you will barely notice."

That was true enough, Lovino thought. Roma had been in his room increasingly since they had 'lost' Peter and seemed only to engage with them to raise his voice in demands. Lovino felt almost guilty at the dark circles under his grandfather's ageing eyes, but then he remembered his visit to Gupta and all those feelings kept mixing themselves up until he could only manage a disgruntled resentment towards the older man.

Lovino still struggled to piece together what it could all mean. Roma was a liar, he had been working with Ivan who in turn had a hand in killing his parents who didn't want their sons to be involved in Roma's business. Had he known at the time what Braginski had done? Had his parents changed their minds? Why had his Grandfather lied about it all? Whatever the case, there was a bitter feeling brewing in Lovino. It was like a poison seeping into the thoughts chasing themselves around his mind. To add to this, his brother was a little idiot to believe everything Nonno said, taking his words mindlessly like a turkey pecking at the feed to be fattened up for winter.

He knew that Feliciano was listening to their conversation because of the way he had slowed down eating, even though he made none of his usual effort to be involved. Bastard.

"Which partner is it?" Lovino asked politely, trying to keep the conversation with his elder going seeing as his brother was being useless. "One of the ones on the border? Or up by the lakes?"

His grandfather, it appeared didn't hear him, or didn't want to answer. His face was red as he chewed on his meal aggressively. Feeling awkward and a little put out against the sound of just cutlery clattering on plates, Lovino tried once more to appease him.

"Did you need me to do anything while you're gone?"

He gave the olive branch freely, but with a series of clangs that made him jump out of his seat his grandfather's fork went flying across the length of the dining table and to the floor. His hand slammed onto the surface making the half eaten meal before him shake out of the plate. Lovino would have looked to Viktor for an explanation if Roma wasn't suddenly in his face.

"Do? Do!" He rumbled, eyes quivering in fury. Lovino instantly backed away. "Why are you asking all these questions? Do you think I am stupid? Do you think I can't manage my own business-?!"

"No?!" What on earth had he said wrong?!

"Then if I haven't asked for it do not assume I need your help!" Lovino flinched at the raised tone and the light spray of spit on his face. "I know how to run my own business, do not interfere!"

"...Yes sir." Lovino felt so confused at the suddenness of the verbal attack he wasn't sure what else to say. Where had that even come from? He wanted to look at his brother but they weren't talking and he daren't take his eyes from Roma to look at Antonio in case he read something out of that as well. His grandfather took a deep breath and sat down darkly, and quiet. He clicked his fingers and Victor swooped in to collect this discarded fork and hand the utensil back to his awaiting hand. The bodyguard's pale features were unreadable as always.

Usually there were more warning signs before one of his grandfather's explosions, enough for him to know where and how to tread. Lovino had sensed the bad mood but was only aware now of the palatable taste of danger in the air- made all the more apparent by Roma's reddening face and quivering hands.

The remainder of the food in front of him suddenly didn't seem so inviting. With Feliciano adamantly avoiding him and Roma being unreadable and cross, Lovino thought it would be best to leave, hide in his room and let things cool down. With shaking, adrenaline filled legs he made to get up.

Faster than it seemed possible Roma's free hand snapped out in a cobra like fashion, the grip of which almost toppled Lovino with the speed it came at him. It forced him to bend over the table at an angle that unfortunately brought his face closer to his Grandfather's own.

"Did I say you could leave?" Roma hissed. It was like navigating a forest in the dark, Lovino could not sense the safe path properly. The fingers tightened so painfully around his wrist. He couldn't help but wince. But that wasn't an answer. "Well?"

"... No sir," he tried to pull his arm away, only slightly, but that only made Roma rotate his grip to turn his arm the wrong was. The muscles in his arm protested and he found himself sitting back down to turn his arm back, as was clearly Roma's intention. Lovino's heart was in his mouth as he still didn't release him.

"You will stay until I am finished. Both of you," he snapped, and although he didn't look at Feliciano the words were directed to where his brother had just laid down his knife and fork. Roma's eyes burned into Lovino's. "It's my last meal with both of you for a few days and you can't wait to dash off. Why do you not want to spend the evening with your grandfather, eh?"

"What is this family coming to?" Roma growled, his hand still tight on Lovino's arm like he had forgotten it was there. "Brothers who won't speak to each other and a child thinking he can run a hard won enterprise alone. I must be turning old and soft to allow it."

Lovino ignored the awful feeling in his gut and focused instead on the affronted feeling of being called a child because he was not-

He had mastered the art of keeping his face blank, but the shock was clearly throwing him off. Roma's eyes narrowed and the hand that had snaked down to his hand suddenly pinched hard on the joint between his thumb and fingers.

"Wipe that look from your face ragazzo." Lovino's alarms were blaring. "Do you think I am wrong, that you're better than me?"

"No!" His hand really hurt- he tried to pull away ineffectively. "Nonno- please-"

"Nonno, please," the imitation made Lovino freeze. His grandfather looked at him with contempt. "You shame me Lovino. While I am gone I want you to think long and hard about your behaviour and why that is. Now go to your room."

His grandfather's hand flung his wrist away leaving Loivno staring dumbly at it; he never left him like that, he would always push him to respond. He would always apologise for hurting him. Sending him to his room? He wasn't a child- what on earth?

"Go on! Get out!"

Awkwardly Lovino stood up, accidentally catching Feliciano's eye as he turned and found his brother watching them. He looked even more confused as Lovino felt, but the moment he met Feliciano's amber eyes they moved down onto the table. Right, so that was how it would be, fine.

With his grandfather's eyes on him like a snare, everyone including the bodyguards', silent and with his hand throbbing, Lovino walked slowly from around the chair to leave the room, more troubled by Roma's strange behaviour now than he was anything else.

oOo

Roma hadn't taken the car, which meant he was going pretty far out of the city and potentially the state itself. It made much more sense to hop on a train to go long distance, it was cheaper and took less fuel especially when there was no guarantee on being able to fill up on the road. Lovino had watched from his bedroom window as his grandfather and Viktor huddled with their bags into the back of the taxi under the pouring rain that had begun to fall. The same rain was still coming down now, as he sat listening to its continuous roar on the tin roof of the garage.

The garage was dark and dank and smelt of old petrol and oil, but it didn't have the same crushing presence of the house. Lovino couldn't stand being banished to his room like a child especially with a silent Feliciano only a door away, where he had stormed to not long after Lovino's own dismissal. He had half expected a knock on his door. Selfishly Lovino had thought his Grandfather's rage might fix their relationship somewhat, but his stupid little brother seemed intent on holding a grudge- which was fine for him, it wasn't as if he cared.

Still, it was harder than he would have liked to admit to be so near to someone he used to be able to tell everything, but now couldn't talk with. Their argument was like a burn that continued to itch in heat, and Lovino seethed with the pain of it. He needed to escape. So, an half an hour or so after Roma had finally and definitely gone, he'd crept downstairs, raided the cellar (which was disappointingly bare) and dashed through the downpour to mooch a whole building away from his damned family with only the company of three bottles of wine planned for the evening.

It wasn't the first time he'd escaped here, but it was the first time in a few months Lovino needed to use his hidey hole. The car was a comfortable addition at least and beated sitting on the floor or on one of the metal barrels that dotted the space, which he had to do when it wasn't there. Tonight it was hideously cold in the outbuilding; his breath misted in front of his face every time he let out a breath. The wine he had pilfered from his Grandfather's vintage stock was warding off the worst of the chill, so he took another deep swig. It felt somewhat immoral to be drinking such a fine red from the bottle, but the feeling was outweighed by the sweet, forgiving liquid as it burned down his throat. He didn't really want it, but Lovino felt more than a little pleasure at knowing he was denying his grandfather the chance to drink it. In any case, he needed this right now.

Lovino did not move when the garage door suddenly opened letting in the smell and amplified sound of the rain as a quick rush. He didn't need to even look up from where he was staring to know who it was. Who else would have the inclination to come looking for him? Decisive footsteps, slow and steady across the concrete sounded through the room.

"... Ludwig said you might be in here," Antonio said with a touch of a sigh. He must have sprinted from the house to avoid the downpour. "I thought you might have wandered off again."

"I am not an idiot." Lovino had nearly killed himself from guilt and exposure once this year thank you very much. The car door was out of his line of vision with his gaze fixed firmly on the windshield and he most certainly was not interested in turning his head, so he couldn't see the bodyguard just yet. "What are you doing here?"

Antonio finally emerged at the open door to the car, crouching a little to peek in. Lovino couldn't quite meet his eye, his lips pressed together tightly.

"Wow, it's cold," Antonio ignored the question to puff out his cheeks in a demonstration as though Lovino hadn't been sat in it for the past hour. "...Can I join you?"

The wine made Lovino's voice a croak. "Will you take no for an answer?"

"Not really."

Lovino sighed, closed his eyes to steady himself and then shifted over wordlessly to allow the bodyguard space to sit down. All too eagerly Antonio tumbled into the small space making it jostle uncomfortably on its axis. The movement made the two other bottles Lovino had also selected clink against each other and his head spin woozily.

The wine was starting to kick in then. That was good.

For all this initial noise Antonio was quiet when he got into the car. The only sound was that of another body close by; the rustle of stiff material, the hushed release of a breath. This new quiet, stained with these noises was almost more oppressive than the simple rush of rain. Lovino side eyed the bodyguard tensely. He thought perhaps he would comment on the wine but he was looking straight ahead with an expression that made Lovino duck, grab the nearest bottle and hold it up for the man.

Silence and the patter of rain. Antonio took the bottle, popped the cork with his teeth and drank. Lovino was reminded of his own beverage and drank a little more. They were quiet, Lovino had nothing to say but he couldn't help but resonate with the deep sigh the Spaniard let out as he relaxed heavily into the padded seat.

Lovino was an internaliser, he always had been. He'd worry himself silly over things and hold back on feelings and emotions. He'd make himself ill as a child, something Roma had always interpreted as a sign of weakness. From there as a young teen he'd changed tactics and let out his emotions in angry outburst which achieved nothing but tears and pain. In the end, Lovino had decided that to remain in control, to remain safe, he would keep his mouth shut and worry in his own time away from the family. Feliciano had a certain way of forcing him to speak about stuff, but Antonio seemed content to let him come to his own conclusions. Perhaps at the start he had been that push, but now he offered something both terrifying and exhilarating: the chance for him to speak or not speak without judgement. It was enough for him to just be there right now, but the wine in him felt that he should at least try and sum up the atmosphere.

"Fuck."

Antonio didn't laugh, but his nod was understanding as he took another swig, "Fuck."

His agreement might have made Lovino chuckle, but instead he searched around for the right words. "I... I don't-"

He took another drink which made it easier.

"I don't know how much more of this I can take," he said bitterly, the alcohol loosening his tongue as much as Antonio's presence guided it along. "I feel..."

What did he feel? Really? "I'm just fighting against everything right now. Grandpa hasn't spoken to me like that in a long time and Feliciano doesn't even want to look at me never mind speak to me. I only told him the truth..."

Antonio's voice was solemn after his own drink. "Sometimes the truth isn't easy for people to-"

"Well, he's a stupid fuck." Lovino snapped, not at Antonio but at the world at large. "He knows exactly what Nonno is like, but he hides his head in the sand when it suits him. I need him on my side not..."

The memory of his brother's cold stare and toxic words hit him so hard that he drank with white knuckles to hide the way his mouth twitched. The movement hurt his hand, the same one that Roma had grabbed earlier and he cut his swig short to swap hands with an irritated growl. It was too sore for him to use. Antonio might have picked up on it but for once he didn't say anything, just watched him with a measured look before speaking.

"I know how much you love your brother Lovino, so don't take this the wrong way." Lovino couldn't help but brace himself for impact anyway. "But despite his promises, I honestly think Feliciano is torn equally between you and your grandfather. You're his big brother, but Roma is the only father he's ever known. He has a hold on him even you can't fight against, and there is a lot of hold on Feliciano. He can be a sweet and loving boy, but he has a side you don't."

To hear someone else say these words was like having a heaviness lifted. It was true, Feliciano was a social butterfly who could make friends where he wanted unlike Lovino, but whenever challenged he always took the most brutal route. As his brother it was something Lovino had noticed and worked against, but there was no question that Feliciano could be a lot like Roma when the situation suited his aims, and frankly that terrified him.

"I've tried and tried to help him see that it's wrong, 'Toni," he mumbled, the wine having no blame for the shake in his voice. "But sometimes he is all grandpa's man and there's nothing I can do to stop him. I'm fighting a battle I don't want to lose for his sake, but perhaps Feliciano was right..."

He didn't need to identify what his brother could have been right about. Antonio turned in his seat to look at him face on; Lovino keeping his eyes resolutely forward. The Spaniard didn't touch him, but he was close to it and Lovino cursed the traitorous part of him that wanted him to.

"Don't you dare think like that." Under the half light the bodyguard's face might have been earnest, but above everything it looked tired. How long had it been since Antonio had first looked at him this way and promised to protect him that night on the stairs? A few days, months, years? A lifetime ago?

"Let's face it, things would have been easier if I'd have kicked the bucket." It seemed bizarre even now to be discussing his own death so reasonably. The wine was certainly helping and he drunk more of it. "Feli would have the exciting job he has always dreamed of and Roma would have a proper heir to take over the business. Don't look at me like that Antonio, you know it's true."

The bodyguard's face had gone ever so stormy and Antonio took a drink mechanically as if to soothe his own features. It didn't work much.

"... I wish it wasn't." Antonio looked incredibly sad and this time Lovino fought against the urge to lean over and touch him. Instead they both took a simultaneous drink. The warmness of the alcohol was burning into Lovino's every nerve and the tips of his fingers were starting to buzz; he couldn't help but watch his bodyguard look off into the cobwebbed corner of the room, his eyebrows close together.

"Do you..?" Antonio started and then stopped, sipping from the bottle and clearly thinking hard about his next words. "Did you you ever think about running?"

"Once," Lovino admitted. Antonio's attention flicked back onto him. "I was about fifteen and it had all got... a bit too much. I was so close to finishing school and it was beginning to dawn on me what I had to do after it. I panicked. I thought if I ran away, I might at least have more time. I planned it all out, what I'd take, the route, even the damn food."

Lovino laughed hollowly and the sound was caught up between them in the enclosed space. "It was stupid."

Antonio's response, when it came after a long moment, was quiet. "What happened?"

Lovino snorted into the dregs of the wine. The bottle was empty so he swapped it for the remaining full one on the floor, his head weaving at the movement. He went to open it, ignoring the dull pain in his hand and remembered back.

"What do you think happened?" Roma had been livid. He had hit him plenty of times before but that was the worst beating he could remember of his childhood; that night Roma had slept in the room with him in case he decided to run again. As if he would dare. He hadn't been able to do sports at school for over a month. "Exactly what I deserved for trying to run out on him. Needless to say I was a lot more agreeable after that."

That had been the last time before his recent endeavours that he had gone against his Grandfather on such a large scale, now that he thought about it.

Antonio was silent and watched as Lovino struggled with the cap on the new bottle, his hand sore from earlier. Once it was off he took a sip and grimaced. It was a white wine which was much sharper on the tongue than the red, it's only saving grace being that it was cold from the temperature of the garage, which admittedly Lovino had stopped feeling with all the drink warming his system.

Still, a white. "Why do people break the law for this crap? It tastes like piss."

"...And now?"

"'M?" The wine was starting to really hit him. Lovino's head felt fluffy as he turned to look at the bodyguard.

"And now?" He breathed. "Would you run now? Away from here... with me?"

Lovino couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the question.

"Oh sure, why not?" But Antonio's blush was down to more than just the alcohol in his system. Lovino stopped laughing.

"My God you are serious... Why on earth would you want to do that?" Had he got mad? Or was he just drunk? He had a lot quickly after all- "I could never do that. Feliciano is still here and he would never come with us."

"Even after that performance at dinner?" Ergh, just what Lovino wanted to forget. Antonio discarded his near empty bottle, grabbed Lovino's damaged hand for the first time that evening and looked at it closely, flexing it this way and that while he spoke. "Lovino, I am being honest with you... it's getting to the point where I don't know whether I should stop your grandfather or whether it would be a breach of my contract to leave you at his mercy. He could have really hurt you tonight, and all those other days and nights before. You've said yourself it's been worse before, you got off lightly today. The way he is with you... it's not okay."

Lovino didn't know what to say to that, and could only wince as his hand was pulled about. His guard was up a little but the words didn't feel like a personal attack. Far from it. Antonio sounded frustrated and he could understand that. He pointedly ignored the content and focused instead on how this talk kindled something else in him: worry.

He tugged on Antonio's hand, stopping it from its investigation. It was a long time before he found his words. "Do you want to run away?"

Antonio met his eye, where the wine had put in a feverish sort of gleam. "Only if you're right there with me."

He hated himself for the way his stomach flipped at the words and how his cheeks warmed. Lovino looked down to see Antonio had wound their fingers together. His breath faltered a little.

"You're ridiculous," Lovino snapped to ignore the fluttering in his stomach. He wanted to lean away from the Spaniard, to show just how at ease he felt but his body wouldn't respond and he stayed still, their hands firmly together. "Running isn't always the answer you know. Look where it got you the first time: in a different country with awful weather, acting as a babysitter, getting shot at by crazy women and drinking in a dingy garage. Hardly glamorous."

The bodyguard was not as offended as he hoped he would be and laughed softly, without breaking eye contact. "There are worse places to be."

Lovino was suddenly very aware how close they were. The car wasn't that big and somewhere along the lines they had leant into each other, shoulder to shoulder, for warmth. He could read the lines of Antonio's eye lashes.

"I never apologised," Lovino found himself saying. "For that night. When I was drunk."

Not that he wasn't in the same state now. His head span in a boozy sort of way. It was clear enough to watch Antonio blink in surprise.

"I didn't think you'd remember." Charming.

"My memory is quite good, thank you." He could remember most of the details of the night, with what had happened just before it. The alcohol had done nothing to erase it from his memory. He could practically still feel Antonio's lips (cold and soft) under his own and the thought made him blush even more than he already was. They really were close, and Lovino was frightened. Frightened at how it didn't bother him, how he welcomed it, of the intensity of those green eyes. A thrill of fear shivered through his core.

He released Antonio's hand which he realised he had been holding just as much as the other man was holding him. "I.. erm- I'm gonna-"

Lovino made to move back and out of the car. He wasn't sure where he was going but he fumbled with the handle anyway and attempted to swing himself out of the car. He'd done it so many times before, more times than he could count. It was a simple movement and he should have been able to ace it, but that was without nearly two full bottles of wine down his neck. The booze goggles told him the floor was much closer than it was, when of course it wasn't moving around so damn much, so it was understandable when he stumbled and slipped practically head first to the concrete.

It was the bottle still held in his grasp that saved him from eating dirt. Somehow he hooked it onto the door to slow his fall enough to soften his landing with his hand.

Lovino did not know what he'd looked like, all he knew was that he'd splashed wine over himself, his leg was twisted uncomfortably and his hand (the damn bruised one) was aching where he put his weight onto it. And Antonio was laughing. The bastard was actually laughing at him.

"Lovi, mios dios-" he gasped through explosive laughter that made the car jiggle. "Are you- are you alright?"

The ground moved like a ship deck beneath as he attempted to ease himself out of the odd position, but if he moved too much he would end up falling. Lovino could feel his cheeks starting to heat up. "Peachy."

Antonio couldn't stop giggling. "Hold on- let me help."

Lovino struggled to free himself. He could do it on his own! But by the time Antonio had got out of the car and around to where Lovino dangled out like a fish in a net he hadn't got anywhere. That bastard was still laughing!

He'd show him-

Antonio was unsteady on his feet as much as Lovino, which he knew he'd be able to his advantage. The Spaniard bent to pick him up and Lovino pounced. Easy as anything he grabbed Antonio's front and put his full weight on him, causing him to topple to the floor just the same. Lovino was allowed a moment of self congratulation before he realised his mistake. Antonio wasn't just falling on the floor; he was falling on top of him.

The bottle dropped to the concrete with a clatter as it rolled and the whole of his six foot bodyguard tipped. Lovino had barely managed a yelp before it turned into a oof as the weight hit him. He tried to roll with him but Antonio was heavier than he thought and they ended up as a drunk bundle of limbs on freezing concrete floor.

Lovino couldn't breathe. "Get fucking off me-"

Antonio was shaking with laughter but pushed himself up so that his face was inches from Lovino's own. The proximity was even worse than before and he had to cringe at his mistake. The feel of his legs against Antonio's was not helping.

The worse part was not really wanting him to get off.

"Come on," Antonio was oblivious to his discomfort and pulled away. Drinking so quickly had made the Spaniard equally as unsteady and he floundered around with a bright smile before seating himself up and looking at Lovino. "You're drunk, let's get you to bed."

"What are you talking about dumbass? You're just as drunk as me!"

Lovino pushed himself up to match his position, not one to be outdone. Once seated he picked the bottle back up which still thankfully had some alcohol it in. He was sticky with wine and coated in grime from the floor but he attempted to at least look dignified as he used Antonio's head as a balancing post to stand. He was wobbling but he was up at least.

"Right, no more drink for you." Was Antonio actually scolding him-?! Wait, that was his!

"Give me that." He ordered, hand out at the bottle that Antonio had just snatched off him. It might not have been much but whatever was left in it was his, damn it. Infuriatingly the Spaniard shook his head, the soft curls of his hair fanning his face.

"Not a chance." Oh, he better be joking!

"Give it!"

"No."

Lovino attempted to lunge after him, but Antonio jumped up and darted away. He went straight for the door and before he could stop him he was pelting out into the night and the rain. With half a bottle of vintage imported wine on the line, Lovino had no choice but to dart after him. The rain was like a cold shower, but he hardly felt it. There was enough light to see Antonio's lithe figure with it's strange drunken gait head towards the house. The garden was long, but Lovino used to be in the track team at school and drunk or not he could still run.

Antonio more than likely heard his attempt of a battle cry. He turned to see Lovino sprinting at him and attempted to run even faster. Lovino's vision was odd, especially in the dark and he half collided with Antonio before the other man, with a startled gasp, slid on the boggiest puddle ever and went veering to the floor.

Struck with the beautiful irony of seeing his bodyguard spread eagled in the dirt, Lovino couldn't help but gloat as he bent to retrieve the abandoned bottle from the floor, rain smearing into his eyes. "That serves you right. No one outruns a Vargas-"

Lovino touched the bottle to his lips, half stumbling back in the dark and the rain and the booze. His foot went down and the next was suddenly moving very quickly from underneath him. Then he found himself falling through the air. The wine went with him, spilling out everywhere in a bittersweet spray of alcohol. The noise the muddy turf made as his ass hit it was only just less humiliating than the crowing laughter coming from his bodyguard. Muddy, wet, and wineless, Lovino miserably huffed as water soaked through to his underwear.

"Shut up!" He whined, only to receive a splash of puddle water to the face. There was a smear of mud on Antonio's face above the largest grin Lovino had seen. It shouldn't have sent a thrill through his body like it did and he was ruffled enough to not initially react.

But with water and mud going down his collar the feeling didn't last long. "You're going to regret that-"

He pounced and the next moment they were rolling around in the grass and mud like children. He was pretty certain he got some of it in Antonio's mouth and was feeling pretty smug until he was nearly blinded by a blob of the stuff. But Lovino couldn't stop laughing.

He wasn't sure who got up first but they headed indoors, leaning on each other and trying not to slide in the mud. The kitchen was a sanctum of cleanliness and Lovino felt a little reckless dripping rain water and sludge all over the place. They were still giggling at each other like children, arms firmly on each others waists. Lovino knew they were both drunk, but he hadn't realised how much until they were inside and back in a normal space. Antonio had drank less, but much quicker and the Spaniard fumbled with the lock as Lovino leant on him heavily. His hand was on the back of the other man's head, musing up the wet hair fondly, and Lovino was only slightly surprised when Antonio turned (the lock done) to face him, bringing them suddenly very close.

Their eyes met briefly. Lovino felt confused when Antonio froze, and followed his gaze behind him.

After their little adventure there was something so strikingly real about Feliciano as stood in his grey pyjamas in the kitchen doorway, watching their interaction with wide eyes. The lighter mood Lovino had been feeling suddenly died when he saw his brother. Feliciano didn't come any closer, but he clutched the glass of water in his hands that bit tighter. He must have come down for a drink.

"I heard a noise outside and wanted to see if you were okay," his brother said quickly, guiltily. Lovino felt a lot drunker now seeing someone sober and he held tightly to his bodyguard. "You weren't in your room."

"I'm fine." He said roughly as Feliciano took a few steps closer to him.

"What were you doing? And why are you covered in mud-?" Lovino did not appreciate the sudden whining tone or the way he sniffed the air in disgust. "Have you been drinking?!"

"What's it to you, asshole?" The slur was out of his mouth before he had processed it in his head, but Lovino did not care about the hurt look on his brother's face. He was annoyed at him for interrupting, but he was more annoyed when Feliciano's sharp, amber eyes glared daggers at Antonio.

"You should be ashamed of yourself. How could you do this, what if someone tried to attack him while you were-?"

Lovino was not going to have this. Not from the 'brother' who told him he wished he'd died and couldn't believe pure facts when they'd been spoon fed to him.

"Why don't you back off and go back to bed? I gave it to him. God knows we need a drink in this house. It's none of your business either way, vaffanculo."

Feliciano blushed at the swear, seemed about to say something else and then abruptly walked away. Lovino didn't care about him leaving, he could literally follow his words to the point for all he cared. Antonio though, attempted to detach his arm from Lovino's waist, extracting himself gently.

He didn't register his own reaction, and probably wouldn't have if Antonio hadn't attempted to unclasp his fingers from his shirt. The Spaniard cringed when Lovino held onto him. "Lovi, we shouldn't. Your brother is right."

Lovino did not care about Feliciano. He did not care about his grandfather. He cared about the way he had just felt, out there in the rain, and what that meant. He cared about the man in front of him.

"I've been reckless. I've gotten too attached." Antonio was practically quivering with anxiety, but it was with sturdy hands he took Lovino off him, only to hold onto his palms tenderly. "Lovi, we should- we should just go to bed. Clean up and then sleep. Yeah?"

No, he almost said. He did not want to sleep. But with those hands on his own Lovino would have agreed to practically anything.

Except... "You don't want me."

Antonio's eyes widened and those hands, covered in mud, found their way to his face. He did not know how long they stayed like that, staring and breathing in the others' sweet intoxicated breath.

"Lovino, I meant what I said before," Antonio whispered, his breath a butterfly against his cheeks. His drunk little stomach did a somersault. "But we can't- what I want right now is for you to have a glass of water, a bath and sleep this off."

And don't let this be something you might regret. Lovino heard the unsaid words. They had a point, and yet he knew they were not true. Drunk or not, he would regret nothing less. He finally understood everything, and what it all meant.

He was... oh... shit.

It was the shock of this that made him bow his head and be lead on shaking legs upstairs, back into the house he hated so much.

oOo

The Gold Rush Hotel was by no means Roma Vargas' only illegal venture in the city. He was renowned for possessing a multitude of businesses, all of which he either co-owned or managed, and each more shady than the last. They ranged from the arts and imports to eateries, dance halls and bars and more besides; there was no exact way to tell where his influence stopped and the real city began. The city was a blurred map of influence, jagged around the edges with Roma sitting like a spider at the centre of a large web.

Luckily for Matthias this one was one of the more cosier venues that Roma owned, although the smell of cooking and chatter of diners seemed an incredibly strange backdrop for this meeting. The apartment above the restaurant was inhabited by a quaint little family that Roma supported financially in return for their assistance providing a upmarket setting for any of his deals or partners. You could always rely on the family run bistro to give you a free coffee if you'd shown up enough with the boss for them to recognise your face. The family (with Roma's benevolent influence) were relatively well off, but the rooms above were a far cry from the Vargas' tiled entrance and climbing staircase.

When Roma had requested the use of their home, not their business, for a few nights they must have thought he'd gone mad. However, no one denied the boss anything and they'd happily packed up their whole family to various friends' homes. They then dutifully came back every day to open up the shop below so that no one would know any different.

"So, Boss." Don't mention the apartment, Matthias prayed as Sadiq spoke from his position at the sideboard in the little kitchen. "We spread the news you were out of town like you asked. Now what was it you wanted to talk to us about?"

Matthias looked cautiously at the kitchen table's only other occupant. Roma looked unwell in the bright kitchen light, his large frame oversized for the regular dining set. He was a man built for grand furniture and oversized belongings; grandeur and wealth painting him out of place in regular spaces. There was an emptiness about him, from his stiff shoulders to his pallid face. He was biting his nail. You could hear the cold crack of tooth on hard edge of his finger in the silence of the kitchen. Matthias didn't dare to meet Roma's eye, and managed to trail his eyes up to his shirt collar before retreating back to the safety of the table surface.

He deeply regretted seating himself where he had. As the last to arrive in the room he had been flustered and sat himself down straight away; he should have taken notice of the distance Sadiq and Heracles had put between themselves, not just from each other, but from their boss.

Matthias had seen Roma angry, he often was at many things. Bankers, his subordinates, the weather, the price of wages, government, police... He knew from Heracles who had been in his service the longest that he'd been plenty angry at America itself when he had first arrived on the continent. Nowadays his anger came out in shorter bursts like flares from a match. He raged quickly and violently before his anger slipped back beneath the surface as suddenly it had reared up.

Matthias had also seen Roma furious; when deals went wrong and plans messed up. His fury at losing Peter (which Matthias had only just started to pay for), at the attempts on his grandchildren's lives and the interference from Ivan's gang and the police. These days the boss lived in a perpetual state of fury which made his eyes smoulder and his reactions sharp.

But this was beyond that. He looked livid and his face was white with the feeling, but most worryingly he was silent. Matthias was reminded of his training and the seconds before an attack was launch and the soldiers went over the top.

No one seemed (apart from Matthias who had bumbled in late) to want to even go near him in case like a cruel jack-in-the-box he would explode. Sadiq's question went unacknowledged and from his seat in Roma's line of fire Matthias could not share in the look which he knew the other two used over the boss's head.

He kept his eyes resolutely on the grain of the wood and thought again: why is Mr Vargas, the richest man in the city, squatting in this working class apartment?

"It's been a while," Roma suddenly intoned in a distant voice that for all its softness made Matthias flinch. "Since I've heard the sound of a busy restaurant."

He chanced a look up, not to Roma on his left, but to his right where Viktor was standing to attention in the kitchen doorway. His long face was always so blank, and it remained so now. Yet the tension of his shoulders was making him look anxious where an expression normally would do the job. Instead of being comforted like he had wished, Matthias found Viktor's discomfort less than appeasing: usually while Roma raged and stomped his feet his bodyguard could be relied upon to be the steady lighthouse in the storm.

Matthias was glad that the invitation to this meeting had been exclusively for him. It was awkward enough in this room without Lukas adding to it. Not that he would have come anyways-

"Why," Roma spoke around his thumb with a sharp clack as his teeth parted the nail. "Have you all failed me?"

No one spoke yet, it was dangerous to do so before he had finished.

"A sneak in my midst, that upstart making a move on my city, the police breathing down my neck." Roma's volume rose up now, word by word until it reached a normal level and held the threat of violence. "Grandson's fighting and lying to their own grandfather- children thinking they can understand what they can barely even grasp- what have you all done for me?!"

"We dealt with Roderich-" Matthias was glad it wasn't him who spoke.

Roma's hand slammed on the table with speed. "I dealt with Roderich, do not speak to me of Roderich."

Heracles was fumbling. "The officer's boy-"

Roma was like a golden fury, his rage equal to that of a tiger poked with a stick through a cage. "Is gone. You men are a disappointment: you have no right to call yourself my subordinates."

Matthias was aware of Heracles shooting him a foul look. Peter's loss has been his fault, but he didn't dare interject with that right now. The boss was right, things were a mess. They were losing their touch, he was losing his touch. The fragility of the situation balanced on Roma Vargas' ability to choose and direct his men, and even Matthias could see the links starting to unravel. All the older man had, sitting crumpled at this tiny dining table, was a bloated criminal empire resting on the foundations of two young men and a handful of close underlings who couldn't challenge him. It was no surprise they were giving way as they were. It was better to move than to be removed.

"Perhaps," it was Viktor who spoke into the pause were the rest of them wouldn't. The blond seldom talked in front of them, and Matthias was as usual surprised by the neutral but calm tone of his voice. "Perhaps we should re-evaluate our position with Braginski, we would be much better off-"

Matthias had picked up a fair bit of Italian to know that the curse that Roma shot at his second in command was a prickly one to say the least.

"I will do no such thing!" He barked, smacking his hand again to the surface of the table for emphasis, his eyes like daggers on the bodyguard. "Are you completely stupid as well as these three idiotas? I will not let this slide-"

Viktor carried on with his reasoning, "Ivan has already made an attempt on Lovino and Feliciano's life, and the incident at the theatre will only have stirred his vendetta against you-"

There were points for trying, but it was a losing battle. Roma stood and exploded in a violent hiss, like steam from when you threw ice water into a boiling pan.

"Then let him come for me!" He stomped and spat like a red-faced child, it could have been funny except it was terrifying. Matthias was frozen by the spectacle. "I will not be threatened! I will do what I want! This is my city!"

Viktor was only slightly steely as he countered him. "Then we need to stop sending messages and start acting, Roma."

No one else called the boss by his first name so blatantly. If Matthias was feeling courageous and he could see Roma was in a good mood he might risk it; Viktor was the only one who could get away with it when he was like this. Still, the use of his Christian name seemed to unnerve him and Roma sat and scowled across the table, pausing in his rage. There was a long silence when no one dared to speak.

"You," he thundered suddenly at Sadiq, who Matthias was not the least surprised to see snap to attention. "Which of Ivan's businesses is his highest earner?"

Sadiq blinked. "I don't-"

"Are you or are you not my information source?" Roma sneered impatiently. "I pay you to gather me intel. What have you been doing if you can't even answer me that?"

"The Birdcage Casino in the red light district." To everyone's surprise Heracles jumped in with an answer in the wake of Sadiq's opening and closing mouth. He barely blinked as Roma's gaze snapped onto him. "It's small but it's a big earner. The place is rigged to the nines and there's some fine broads in the back. The small fry love it, it's so popular-" a vein twitched in Roma's temple "-not that your joints aren't any good boss! It's just-"

The boss waved his explanation like he was swatting a fly. He pulled an inward, thinking face as he ignored everyone and resumed his nail biting. Matthias knew exactly which place Heracles was referring to. Most young men knew of it, not that they necessarily had the money to get in there. A real earner it most certainly was, but it was also one of the most guarded buildings in the city, and that list also included the bank. The muscle on the door alone could probably pull a convoy ship ashore with just a length of rope and their grip. Roma couldn't possibly-

"I want you boys to take it." Matthias heart sank to his shoes. "Get whoever else you need and take it, or better yet burn it to the ground."

He was pretty sure the others were holding their breath.. Even Sadiq who was usually so relaxed looked queasy, ill-at-ease. Silence reigned around the dining table once more.

"Roma, you can't be serious." Viktor's tone was incredulous but the boss caught it straight away and shot up from his chair. Everyone moved ever so slightly away except the bodyguard who took the verbal assault unflinchingly.

"Am I the boss or am I not?" He pounded his fist on the table, and with his bent back he almost looked predatory. "It's bad enough having my grandchildren playing adults when they're still in school but I will not allow my men to lecture me or disobey direct orders! When I say I want the club taken you should be asking me how many casualties I need or who I want dead- not finding excuses. Either you do what I say or I will find more willing goons to do the job. I am Roma Vargas, I made this city with my blood and my money, it is mine, the streets will crumble to dust if I commanded it and you will do as I say."

Matthias did not want to point out it was only the younger of the two boys who was still at school, he also did not want to point out that the task he was giving them was a suicide mission. He had signed his life away to this man years ago and with it his right to speak. Instead he swallowed and prayed for Sadiq to wipe the sneer of dislike from his bearded face. It wasn't the time or place for it.

"Y-yes sir," Mathias said, the first words he has said since he entered the room. Roma zeroed in on him like a hawk but said nothing in return. He turned instead to Viktor.

"You," he demanded, sitting heavily back down. "You're to oversee the plans, but I have another job for you to do."

"Sir?" Viktor's tone was so natural it was almost as if he hadn't registered the threat in the older man's tone. There was a flicker of some sort of emotion deep in Roma's eyes as he looked suspiciously at the others.

"Not with these here." It was an official dismissal and Matthias was so pleased to hear it.

It was only when Matthias, Heracles and Sadiq had been kicked out of the apartment to stand in the street below that he allowed himself to agree with the hushed whisper from Sadiq.

"What a bastard."

oOo

Sorry this isn't an update guys. There are changes in here if you look for them, I am uploading 53 straight after so hopefully no one is too excited, except probably for the two emails in the inbox!

Proper update and message at the end of 53!