AN/ And I'm back on my bullshit of writing one-shots instead of working on Tight Rope! :D Haha don't hate me.

So, another song-fic with another KEiiNO song because I love them so much! (It's been nearly a year and YES, I'm still salty they didn't win Eurovision.) I don't know how they do it but I love all their songs (go check out "Colours" as well as "Black Leather", and "Spirit in the Sky" if you haven't heard it yet). They're awesome.

Anyway, the story is very loosely based on the song; perhaps it'd be more accurate to say that it's inspired by it. I mean, I got the overall theme of the song and the vibe it gave me and wrote a story based on that. I guess what I'm trying to say is that if you listen to Black Leather it might feel as though the story has nothing to do with it. Idk. I hope you like it anyway n_n"

Last but not least:

Thanks to Shadowcatxx for helping me edit it, and thanks to coronavirus for forcing me into a quarantine and giving me the time to write this :) (No, but seriously, everyone stay inside and wash your hands.)

BLACK LEATHER

Their tiny flat is crammed, so full of people one can hardly move around, and it makes Lovino slightly anxious. He doesn't even know most of the people in there — why is Feli so damn popular?

No, scratch that. He knows why Feli is popular: he's cheerful and good-looking and easy to like. The question he should be asking is why he agreed to let him throw a party at their place.

Scratch that again.

His eyes scan the living room until he finds Gilbert. It's easy — his silver hair stands out in the darkened room. Maybe Lovino only agreed to hosting a party after Feli casually mentioned that Gilbert would be invited.

Because maybe, just maybe, Lovino has a small crush on Gilbert.

It's nothing serious, not really. Gilbert is objectively attractive, so it's not weird that he caught Lovino's eye, and he's… Well, he's nice to be around. He's caring, in his own, special way. He cracks jokes that are so bad they make you laugh. He's a softie, despite his rough appearance. And Lovino likes being around him. Perhaps he would even like to kiss him, just to see what it feels like.

He hasn't told anyone, not even Feli, but Feli knows anyway.

And Feli has decided he's going to "help the love along".

So Lovino isn't too surprised when his brother appears out of nowhere and, with a knowing (shit-eating) grin, pushes him toward Gilbert. Gil flashes a smile when he sees them approach and keeps talking to his friends. They're two of the few people Lovino knows personally — Feli's closest circle of friends and, by extension, his.

They're an odd gang.

There's Feli, the sweet, forever child-faced guy who also happens to be one of the most renowned tattoo artists in town. He's two years younger than Lovino, yet people often mistake them for twins. Lovino doesn't think they look that much alike (his hair is darker than Feli's, he's slightly shorter, and he has more freckles), but secretly likes it when he's told they're equal, because Feli is his favourite person in the whole world and it warms him up to know that they're not as different as it often feels.

Then there's Francis, always elegant, his golden mane tamed into an elaborate hairdo and just enough makeup on his face to enhance his already handsome features. He works as a cook in a fancy restaurant with a few Michelin stars and oh, he's good. Lovino thinks he's just a bit too fancy and sometimes overdoes it, but he's willing to overlook that because sometimes he'll cook for them and wow. Just wow. Also, he's one of the sharpest people Lovino has ever met. He keeps an eye out for his friends, all of them, and is always ready to lend a hand when needed. All things considered, he's not that bad, for a Frenchman.

There's Gilbert, of course. Gil, the multifaceted, all-A's architect who one day is signing blueprints for a luxury hotel in Dubai and the next is a guitarist for a hard rock band. Possibly the cleverest person Lovino has ever met, and surprisingly one of the humblest. Sure, he often comments in jest that he should be having tea with the Queen of England instead of hanging with them, but they all know he wouldn't exchange them for the world, and that his ego is far from being as big as others think.

And there's also Antonio, the gang's newest acquisition. He's only been around for a few months, but he's already become one of Feli's best friends. Which isn't weird, because they're very alike: always laughing, always smiling, always talking. Lovino himself hasn't talked to him much, and although he has an overall good impression of Antonio (he's good-looking, and funny, and has a very particular style that draws the eye like a magnet), there's something about him that throws him off.

Maybe it has to do with the fact that Antonio talks all the time but doesn't really say anything. Lovino doesn't know where he's from, what he does for a living, if he works or studies or both or neither. He's a complete mystery.

Damn, but he is alluring. He's not as elegant as Francis, nor does he have Gilbert's presence, yet he captivates everyone around him without even trying. Or at least it doesn't look like he's trying.

Lovino notices with a stupid pinch of jealousy that Antonio has Gil's undivided attention.

And then he wonders…

~{§}~

Antonio lives on his own in an apartment that's easily twice as big as Lovino's. How he can afford it, Lovino doesn't know. Add that to the list of Antonio's mysteries. But it is a bit intimidating, and Lovino finds that he's hesitant to knock.

"Any particular reason why you're standing on my doorstep?"

Lovino flinches, startled, and turns to see Antonio, who's standing in the hallway with two bags of groceries.

No turning back now.

"Yes, I, uh—I'm Feli's brother."

"I know."

"Lovino."

Antonio blinks. "I know."

"Ah."

"Is everything alright? Did Feli send you?" Antonio asks as he moves to open the door.

"No, everything is fine. I just wanted to ask for a favour. For advice. Both."

There's a question in Antonio's eyes when he turns to look at Lovino, but he only shrugs and says: "Sure. Come in."

Lovino follows him inside and stands awkwardly in the hall as Antonio, animatedly chatting about the weather, puts the groceries away. The flat is very open — the hall and living room and kitchen are all one big space — and full of light that comes through the big windows on the wall. It's a bit messy, but the kind of messy that doesn't look messy at first sight. It probably is perfectly ordered for Antonio.

"Okay." Antonio claps his hands together and nods towards the couches. "Take a seat. Want anything to drink?"

"N-No, thanks."

Antonio shrugs and grabs a beer for himself; and then, when they're sitting opposite each other, stares at Lovino from behind his can as he downs half of it in one go.

"So. What can I help you with?"

Lovino looks down at his hands, nervously playing with the fabric of his trousers, and hesitates for a heartbeat before starting the rehearsed speech: "There's someone I like."

"Gilbert," Antonio cuts in before he can go on, and Lovino looks at him so fast he almost snaps his neck.

"You know?"

"I have a keen eye for this kind of thing," he shrugs, as if it weren't that big of a deal. "But I don't think Gil knows, if that makes you feel better."

It does make him feel better. Lovino lets out a shaky breath and tries to get back on track, but Antonio interrupts again:

"Do you want me to talk to him or something?"

"No. But maybe I'll make that Plan B."

"Okay," Antonio smiles, the gesture surprisingly comforting. "What's Plan A?"

Plan A, yes. Lovino's gaze falls to his hands again. "Sometimes I feel like there's no way he'll ever see me the way I see him. I think… I don't stand out, not when the people he hangs with are Francis and Feli and… well, you. I guess what I want is to make myself noticeable."

"So…" Antonio clears his throat. "What exactly is it that you're asking of me?"

"Well, I—" Lovino blushes. "I like your style. The way you catch everyone's attention with the way you dress and the way you move and behave."

"You want me to give you a makeover," he deadpans.

"That's… That's one way of saying it."

Antonio chuckles, runs a hand through his hair. "This has to be the weirdest favour anyone's ever asked of me." He considers it for a second; finishes his beer. And then: "Okay. Come back tomorrow. Same time."

~{§}~

Tomorrow, same time, comes in the blink of an eye.

Antonio welcomes Lovino with a smile and asks him to "come into the lab", and laughs when Lovino mutters back a quiet "thanks, Frankenstein". The lab happens to be the second bedroom in the apartment, which Antonio has transformed into some sort of beauty salon.

There are three big mirrors on the wall, shelves and drawers full of makeup and hair products, a sink in the corner and a big, old office chair right in the middle. Lovino sits on it and Antonio leans on the backrest.

Then they're staring at each other's reflection in the mirrors, Lovino worrying his lip between his teeth and Antonio wearing a pensive expression on his face. And Lovino has thought this before, but now it's painfully obvious: Antonio is very, very handsome. It's not that everything about him is perfectly beautiful (except, perhaps, his eyes, intense and green like the Galician forests), but when all his features come together — the chocolate, curly hair, the tanned skin, the defined jaw with the shadow of a beard — they create a masterpiece. Even little imperfections, like a tiny scar on his lip, only make him more attractive.

"I could give you a haircut," Antonio muses. Lovino isn't sure whether he's talking to him or thinking aloud. "You have nice hair, but it doesn't really stand out." His fingers brush through his bangs, pushing it off his face. "How do you feel about makeup?"

"Never tried it. You—You think I need it?"

"No one really needs it, but everyone can benefit from it. I'll give you a quick tutorial just in case."

"O-Okay."

"Clothes…" He looks at Lovino's attire and checks the quality of his shirt. "Not bad," he concludes. "There's nothing bad about your current style at all. It's just… simple. I suppose you're going after something more outlandish?"

"I guess?"

"If you aren't certain…" he smiles, a bit teasing but understanding as well. "Is there anything about yourself that you're ashamed of? If it's not too personal."

Lovino needs a few minutes to consider the question; because embarrassment is an old friend of his, but shame? Antonio waits patiently, still standing behind the chair and observing him in the mirror. Finally, Lovino shakes his head.

"No, I'm not ashamed of anything. I don't think so. Why?"

"Fashion your shame into a sight, that's my motto." He drums his fingers on the chair and pulls away. "But if there's nothing that shames you, all the best. We can tackle other issues."

"Like?"

"Like… You think about the haircut. And meanwhile I'll take you shopping."

~{§}~

They start to meet often, almost daily, sometimes at Antonio's place and sometimes at the mall.

Being at the mall is easy: they walk from shop to shop, looking at clothes and makeup, engaged in an easy conversation about the items they see. Antonio always has a commentary ready and has quickly developed an eye to spot the things that Lovino will like. And sometimes, just sometimes, he'll force Lovino out of his comfort zone because that right there is exactly what he's looking for.

"You know what would look good on you?" he says once, his eyes bright with either mischief or excitement. Or maybe both.

"What?"

"Leather. Black leather."

Lovino snorts.

"I mean it! I'm not telling you to wear BDSM straps. I'm just saying… I don't know, a leather jacket."

"Why black?"

"Oh, black is your colour. You just don't know it yet because you insist on whites and browns."

"It is?"

"Oh, yes. Actually… Once you've made your mind up about the haircut, start thinking about dyeing your hair black."

"Pft. We'll see."

Yes, the mall is definitely the easy bit.

But when they meet at Antonio's apartment, everything is much more intense. They spend hours at the lab, debating about the items they've seen or bought, with Antonio insisting he take more risks and Lovino being too self-conscious to dare.

One day, things get a little too heated. It must have been over something very silly, because when Antonio storms out of the lab, Lovino can't even remember what originated the argument.

He breathes deeply and counts to ten before following Antonio into the living room. His friend is sprawled on the couch, a can of beer in his hand and a frown creasing his brow. Lovino sits opposite him, like the first day he came to ask for his help, and mumbles a quiet apology, even though he's not entirely sure who's at fault.

"You know, Lovino," says Antonio, not even acknowledging the apology, "I think I've figured out what your problem is."

"My problem?"

"Hm. I may be wrong here, and I don't mean to offend you if I am." He pauses for a second to take a sip of beer, and his eyes burn into Lovino's when he asks: "Have you ever considered that you might not be a boy at all?"

Lovino's brain shuts down for a second. "Excuse me?"

"What I'm trying to say is: gender is a social construct that has nothing to do with biological sex. Everyone lives gender differently, and expresses it differently, and I think you've been stuck on the masculine gender all your life when it's not you at all."

"I—" Lovino blinks once, twice, as he processes the information. "Are you saying that I'm not a boy, but a girl?" he tries to sum up.

But Antonio shakes his head. "No, I don't think that's your case." Another sip. "I think you're both. Or maybe neither. Or maybe you're somewhere in between." He shrugs. "I'm getting you out of your box, but you're the one who has to figure out where you fit now."

Lovino falls into a stunned silence as he considers everything that Antonio is telling him. And… it makes sense. He doesn't know why, but it makes sense to him. And it scares him a little that Antonio seems to know him better than he knows himself, but at the same time he feels relieved.

Relieved because he does feel freer, as if he had been trapped in an invisible cage all his life and has suddenly been released.

And while he has absolutely no idea what his place is, he knows where he wants to start.

"Antonio."

"Yes?"

"Will you give me that haircut now?"

"Of course." A knowing smile. "Should we go for a rather androgynous look?"

Lovino nods. "But I'm not dyeing it black."

Antonio laughs at that, and Lovino is relieved to see the previous argument hasn't broken anything between them.

"That'll be your loss."

~{§}~

The day everything changes starts as a perfectly normal day.

A perfectly normal, lazy Saturday, to be precise.

Lovino sleeps in. Helps Feli cook lunch. Takes a nap.

In the evening, Francis summons them: his cousin has come to visit all the way from Canada and would like to meet his closest friends. Lovino doubts he qualifies, but Feli insists that he tag along anyway. "Gil is going to come," he comments, and Lovino begrudgingly agrees.

He dresses simply, but with Antonio's advice always in mind, and he must have done a good job, because Feli raises an eyebrow and whistles at him. "Shut it," Lovino growls back, although he does feel validated by his brother's reaction.

When they arrive at the bar, Gilbert is already there. He's the only punctual person of the group. Feli fist-bumps him in greeting, not bothering to apologize for being a little late, and Gil doesn't comment either. To Lovino he offers a high-five (he deems handshakes to be too professional to use between friends) and looks a little surprised when he takes in his attire.

"Changing the style, are we?" he smiles.

Lovino shrugs nonchalantly. "Yeah. I thought I could use a makeover."

Gil nods approvingly. "Looks good. Nice haircut!"

"Ah, yes," he smiles, running a hand through his hair. "Antonio's doing."

"Ha! I knew he had something to do with this."

"Is it that obvious?"

"To me, yes. Because I know his style. Ah, but don't worry," he winks, "you've made it yours."

Lovino smiles.

And he finds it so easy to talk to Gilbert now. Whereas before he would blush and mumble, now he's all smiles and quick replies. It's delightful.

When Antonio arrives, Gil congratulates him for the haircut, which he just shrugs off: "Oh, it was nothing. But it does look pretty damn good." Then he gives Lovino a thumbs-up, which Lovino initially interprets as a compliment to his looks, but then Antonio starts talking to Feli, absorbing him into a conversation and forcing Lovino and Gilbert to resume theirs. And Lovino understands.

He really needs to pay Antonio back, somehow.

But then Francis arrives, and everything collapses.

"Hey, guys — this is Matthew."

Lovino hears Gilbert's breath hitch.

And when he looks at Matthew, he thinks he understands why.

He looks a lot like Francis, with long, wavy blond hair and blue eyes, but where Francis has sharp features, Matthew is much softer. His cheeks are round and his lips are full and he's definitely one of the prettiest guys Lovino has ever seen. His smile is shy when he waves at them, something that only makes him look even cuter, and Lovino doesn't dare look at Gilbert, lest he see what he dreads: that he's totally spellbound.

~{§}~

Gilbert talks exclusively to Matthew for the rest of the evening.

Lovino swallows his feelings and suffers in silence.

~{§}~

"How are you feeling?" Antonio asks him.

He's waited until they're alone: Francis and Matthew had to go elsewhere, and Gilbert, of course, insisted on accompanying them; and Feli has gone to the toilet real quick before they take their leave as well. Lovino thanks him for this, because he's not ready to have this conversation with Feli, but finds it easier with Antonio.

"Like shit," he answers honestly. "Fuck, I'm not mad at either of them. Gil and I are… nothing, and I can't help it if he likes Matthew."

"But it still hurts."

"But it still hurts." He groans and runs a hand through his hair. "At least we know you did a good job."

Antonio chuckles softly. "Yes, we'll always have that." He considers Lovino for a second, and adds: "Are you going to be alright?"

"Yes," he sighs loudly. "I'm not going to dramatically jump out the window, if that's what worries you. But… I'm not going to be able to stop thinking about it."

Antonio hums.

Then, suddenly, his hand is on Lovino's cheek, and before he knows what's going on, Antonio is kissing him.

It's unexpected and soft and maybe even a little sweet. It makes the hair on his nape stand up and his heart skip a beat; and his stomach does a weird backflip that's not entirely unpleasant.

It's over before he can even think of reacting.

"Something else to think about," Antonio whispers over his lips.

Then he's walking away in fast strides, and suddenly Feli is back from the toilet, blabbering like only he can do, and there's so much in Lovino's head that he feels dizzy.

~{§}~

The next few days find Lovino conflicted and confused.

Because he still likes Gilbert, he knows he does, and the thought of Gilbert going after someone else hurts like a stab wound. But he can't stop thinking about Antonio either; about that stolen kiss and the quiet whisper that followed.

Perhaps it's Antonio's motivations that confuses him the most. He's been pondering for a long time, trying to look at it from different angles, and he always reaches the same conclusion: that Antonio must fancy him. Which is ridiculous, because Antonio hangs with Francis, and Gil, and even Feli — and he's set his sights on Lovino?

Now, the other way around would make much more sense. If Lovino were the one to fancy Antonio…

If?

The more Lovino thinks about it, the more confused het gets.

He likes Gilbert. He's liked him for a while. He still wonders what kissing him would feel like.

But when he gets to that part, his mind drifts back to Antonio and he wonders if he'll get the chance to kiss him again.

Eventually, after a lot of pondering, he finally reaches the conclusion that he fancies both of them, which is brilliant because it means he has twice as many chances for heartbreak.

Feli notices something is amiss, of course he does, but he knows better than to pry (especially after Lovino gives him that particular glare) and keeps his distance. He only approaches once, to tell him that Antonio will be throwing a party at his place in a few days and the whole gang is invited.

And that's what finally makes him react.

He's going to attend that party; maybe he'll arrive fashionably late. He's going to meet those two there. And hopefully he'll find the answers he's looking for.

Now — what should he wear?

~{§}~

Getting ready takes longer than he expected, so he arrives to the party a lot later than planned.

Someone he doesn't recognize opens the door for him and Lovino thanks them with a nod. He can feel their eyes on him as he walks into Antonio's apartment, but doesn't pay it any mind — he knows he looks good, but all the effort he's put into his appearance is not for them.

It's for Gilbert — or is it for Antonio? Is it for both? Perhaps it'll be for whomever he sees first.

He navigates the crowd with ease, flowing along at the beat of the electronic music, and either by chance or instinct his steps take him to the lab's door.

Antonio is there. He's wearing a mesh shirt that would leave little to the imagination had he not chosen to wear a white top underneath, and his black jeans hang deliciously from his hips. And when Antonio turns and spots him, Lovino loves the way his breath catches.

Oh, and Antonio is practically devouring him with his stare. Lovino can see how he takes it all in — the black eyeshadow, the black lipstick, the black nail polish, the black leather straps over his black velvet sweater — and he could swear he sees his pupils dilate.

"Hey," he smiles when he reaches him.

"Hey," Antonio mimics, his voice hoarse. "Who gave you the right to look so good?"

Lovino's smile widens. "Arguably, you did." He loves the way Antonio is looking at him, all over, as if he couldn't decide which bit he likes the most.

"Yeah, I'm starting to regret that," Antonio mumbles, and Lovino can barely hear him over the music. "Is it wrong that I want to be the only one who gets to see you like this?"

"A bit, yes."

"I want to kiss you."

"What's stopping you?"

Antonio hooks a finger under his chin and forces his face up as he brings his own head down, but then he stops, leaves his lips hovering over Lovino's, and his voice is rough when he whispers: "I don't want to ruin your lipstick."

Lovino wants to punch him for teasing him like that — he can't make his heart race like that and leave him hanging. He also wants to kiss him senseless, but it's not like Antonio has earned it. "Too bad," he replies. "What are you going to do, then?"

"Well…" He moves closer, until there's barely any space between them and Lovino's nose brushes his neck. "I can kiss you someplace else."

The words are whispered directly into Lovino's ear, heavy with meaning, and send a shiver down his spine. He's blocked, and later he'll blame it on his blood deserting his brain in favour of going someplace else. He wants to say something witty in reply, or maybe ask for clarification to make sure he's not misinterpreting; but before he can find his voice, Antonio speaks again:

"The lab's got a lock."

There go his doubts and inhibitions.

It happens so fast that he barely registers it — shoving each other into the lab, locking the door behind them, Antonio devouring his neck — and he suddenly finds himself on the chair, his legs spread so that Antonio may claim the space between them. And Antonio claims it alright, going down on his knees like he's about to be knighted, an all-too-pleased smirk on his lips when he encounters the bulge in Lovino's pants.

Lovino thinks he hears a curse; not sure who has uttered it. It might have been himself, frustrated by the way Antonio starts rubbing and massaging him through the fabric of his trousers. "Don't tease," he manages to gasp.

And Antonio complies.

Lovino throws his head back with a moan when Antonio frees his erection and presses a ridiculously chaste kiss against it. Then another, and another, and keeps going until he's covering his cock with hungry, open-mouthed kisses. Something that Lovino is willing to admit feels glorious, but that isn't exactly what he wants and it only makes him ache for more.

"Antonio…" he growls, hoping it conveys his plea.

"What?" Antonio mumbles back. "I did say I wanted to kiss you."

As he speaks, the tip of Lovino's erection rubs against his cheek and oh, he's doing that on purpose. Hissing, Lovino grabs a fistful of Antonio's soft hair, anchoring himself to sanity, and snaps: "Antonio."

As it turns out, that's all it takes.

Antonio takes Lovino's cock into his mouth, as deep as he can, and sucks so hard that Lovino nearly comes on the spot. It's almost surprising he doesn't, with all the previous teasing, and it might just be that he's unbearably stubborn when he wants to be. And he's decided he's going to enjoy this.

His grip on Antonio's hair softens but his hand remains, accompanying the steady rhythm that Antonio has set, and loses himself to the sensation. He gasps and moans and bites his lip, whispers encouraging words, lets Antonio know what he likes and how he likes it; and Antonio moves accordingly, doing some amazing things with his tongue.

There's no way Lovino can resist much longer.

He comes with a broken utterance of Antonio's name on his lips and sinks down on the chair, spent. His eyes follow Antonio as he stands up, rubs his knees, and makes a beeline to the sink, where he spits and rinses his mouth thoroughly. And there's no room for Gilbert in Lovino's mind as he watches Antonio; Antonio with his messy hair and strong arms and devilishly talented tongue and tanned skin and perfect figure.

(There, right there. Something bothers Lovino. But he can't put his finger on it and shakes it off.)

There's a smile on Antonio's face when he finishes washing his mouth and turns to look at him; a smile that is immediately replaced by a pout when their gazes meet. "So much for not ruining your lipstick," he comments.

"Huh?" Lovino turns in the chair to look at the mirror. His reflection is quite the sight: flushed cheeks, messy hair, bright eyes… and smudged lipstick. "Oops. My bad."

"Did you bite your lip?" Antonio asks, his tone failing to hide a proud note.

"You bet I did," Lovino answers truthfully.

Antonio's smile resurfaces twice as big and he skips towards the chair, stopping behind it to lean on the backrest. Lovino laughs, their position bringing back a memory from the first time he entered that room, and raises his eyebrows at their reflection. Antonio winks in reply and Lovino flips him off.

Oh, and he likes the picture he's seeing. He likes seeing them smiling at each other through their wordless mock bickering; he likes the gentle look on Antonio's face, and the challenge in his eyes when he mouths something that Lovino doesn't catch.

Then Antonio bends around the chair, captures Lovino's face with one hand and pulls him close so he can kiss his cheek. Lovino smiles at the first kiss and laughs at the second, and before the third one comes he remembers his lipstick is already ruined, so he turns his head and meets Antonio's mouth with his.

And it's then, when Antonio's thumb brushes over his cheek and their tongues meet, that Lovino's heart completely lets go of Gilbert.

He wants Antonio, all of him. He wants to forget about the party and stay here, in this room that's become theirs; wants to stay with Antonio for as long as their hearts desire. He wants to return the favour and maybe test if the old office chair will hold both of their weight at the same time.

But just as the kiss breaks, a loud, shattering noise reaches them and Antonio's head snaps up.

"Looks like I have to kick someone out of my house," he sighs. It might be Lovino's imagination playing tricks on him, but he could have sworn there was more sorrow in that than what usually comes with the prospect of having to get rid of drunks.

"I hope they didn't break something valuable," he offers.

Antonio kisses his lips again, a sweet peck that almost feels like an apology, and there's a serious honesty in his eyes when he pulls back and says:

"They did."

~{§}~

Lovino doesn't understand Antonio.

The party at his place ended on a bad note: the drunk guys were too drunk and hard to get rid of, and in the end Antonio got mad and kicked everyone out. Lovino left, too, after Francis warned him it'd be for the best. (Like it or not, Francis is Antonio's closest friend and knows him better than Lovino does, for now.) So Lovino arrived home with messed-up lipstick, a burning memory of what Antonio's lips tasted like and the aching desire to kiss him again.

Antonio called the following day, to apologize for how the night had ended (even though it wasn't his fault) and to ask him out.

And they've been going out for a while now, which is great. They meet often and kiss a lot and, as far as everyone is concerned, they are a couple.

Even better, it only takes Lovino a little bit of persuasion to get Antonio to open up and share. Share that he finished high school but hasn't gone to university because he still hasn't found what he really likes. Or share that his family is originally from a small town in Spain. Share, after much hesitation, that he inherited his apartment, along with a small fortune, from his great aunt, whom he lived with since he was sixteen.

(When Lovino asks why he ended up with her, Antonio avoids his gaze and only says: "She was the only relative who would accept me as I am." Lovino makes sure to hug him tightly after that.)

Getting to know Antonio is fascinating. Lovino loves learning about him, everything he has to offer: his habits, his favourite music, his hobbies. He listens avidly to every little piece of information that Antonio gives about himself, and finds that he likes him more and more after each.

But.

There has to be a but.

Every time they're kissing and Lovino attempts to take it a little further, Antonio stops him. Every time Lovino tugs at Antonio's shirt, slides his hands beneath it, toys with his belt — every time, Antonio holds his hands and forces him to stop. And when Lovino asks, he just smiles and says he'd rather take it slow.

Which, in Lovino's humble opinion, are bold words for a guy who was deepthroating him only days ago.

He wonders and wonders, trying to put together the puzzle of Antonio with the pieces he has, and can't shake off the feeling that he's missing the most important one.

~{§}~

That Saturday marks three weeks since they started dating. Not really a milestone, but Lovino is totally smitten (so is Antonio, even though he conceals it better) and ready to celebrate anything.

It's easy to convince Antonio to go for a stroll through the park. Autumn is starting — Lovino's favourite — and the trees are tinted with the most beautiful yellows and browns. They have the time of their lives stepping on the fallen leaves, getting excited like little kids at the ones that crunch the loudest under their feet, and Lovino nearly loses his mind when they fall on the grass and Antonio kisses him like there's no tomorrow.

Later, when they're heading back home, Antonio chats animatedly about this and that and nothing in particular, and Lovino thinks he could listen to him forever.

But then, suddenly, Antonio shuts up and stops dead in his tracks, a shocked, nearly panicked expression on his face.

"Antonio? What's up?" Lovino asks, worried.

Antonio shakes his head. "Nothing. I just thought I heard—" He stops abruptly again, and this time Lovino clearly hears another man calling from behind:

"Isabel!"

Antonio recoils, as if he'd been physically hit, and when he turns his jaw is rigid, his entire body so tense that he looks like he might burst at any moment.

"Isabel!" the man laughs as he approaches them. Lovino hasn't met him in his life. "I knew it was you."

"I-It's not me," Antonio protests weakly. "It never was."

"Oh, don't be silly. Still playing at crossdressing? You're too old for that, don't you think?"

Antonio's hands clench at his sides into white-knuckled fists. For a second, Lovino thinks he might strike the man.

But then Antonio's eyes flash at him for a moment, almost as if he suddenly remembered that he's right there, and it's like he deflates. "Just—Just leave me the fuck alone," he snaps at the man, his voice nearly breaking, turns on his heel and sprints away.

It takes Lovino a few seconds to react, his brain too busy trying to process what has just happened. Cursing under his breath, he glares at the man and chases after Antonio. There's no way he's going to catch up to him (Antonio is in way better shape than he even dreams of being), but he knows — hopes — that Antonio will go to his apartment, so that's where he heads.

And he's right.

Antonio has left the door open and Lovino takes it as an invitation to follow him inside.

His boyfriend is on the couch, hunched, his face buried in one hand and the other running through his hair in nervous motions. He flinches when Lovino closes the door behind him.

"H-Hey," he says, straightening a little and failing rather wonderfully at being discreet when he wipes his eyes. "Sorry about that. That was… That was a cousin. Hadn't seen him in ages." He lets out a forced laugh as he stands up and makes a beeline to his fridge, not even once looking at Lovino, who's still standing by the door. "I never really liked him. He was always a bit of a bully and I… I… I've run out of beer," he groans, closing the fridge, and he's about to break down, Lovino sees it clear as water.

He's the most confident man Lovino has ever known, the one who has made him grow confident in himself. Seeing him crumble is breaking his heart.

"Antonio," he calls, going to him.

"It's okay," Antonio mumbles, leaning on the counter, his back turned to Lovino. "It's okay, it's okay, it's okay…"

"Antonio," Lovino calls again, a little stronger this time. Antonio stops mumbling. "Look at me, please," he adds, softly.

To his surprise, Antonio complies and turns around. He's still tense, his hands holding onto the worktop as if his life depended on it, but at least he no longer seems to be on the verge of a panic attack. Or maybe that's just what Lovino wants to believe.

"I'm trans," Antonio says then, his voice quivering and his eyes fixed on his feet.

Well, Lovino has figured out that much. "You could have told me," he says, and although he means for it to sound reassuring, it ends up coming with an accusatory tone that makes Antonio look away.

"I was scared that you'd reject me," he confesses in a low voice. And before Lovino can protest: "You wouldn't be the first one. Not all my former partners have been precisely understanding."

The trembling finger that traces the scar on his lip says more than his words do.

"Antonio, I—"

"Lovino," he cuts in. His voice has regained some strength, and he actually looks him in the eye when he says: "I'm following a hormone replacement treatment and such, but I…" He sighs. "I haven't had surgery."

The words float in the air between them, charged with meaning. Lovino's gaze flashes to Antonio's groin and back to his face.

And that was the last piece, he realizes. Suddenly everything clicks into place and he understands a lot.

"Holy shit, Antonio," he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Is that why you kept stopping me when things got a little heated?" Antonio nods and he can't help but laugh. "Fuck, Antonio, fucking shit. You know, I had two theories about why you did that, also related to the fact that you never seemed to get a boner; the first one being that for some godforsaken reason I was completely unable to turn you on, and the second being that you were impotent. So yeah, I'll have you know that I'm actually relieved to hear you say that."

Antonio stares back at him in stunned silence for a couple of seconds. Then breaks down in laughter — an honest, real, astounded laughter that brings a smile to Lovino's lips.

"Of course you turn me on, Lovino," he admits easily. "A lot, as a matter of fact. And, um," he clears his throat, "I am physically incapable of getting a boner, as I lack the necessary organ, but know that my metaphorical dick is always hard for you."

"Cheers."

The tension between them has vanished with their laughter, leaving room for a comfortable silence. Lovino could spend an eternity in that moment.

"You sure you don't mind?" Antonio asks quietly after a moment, insecurity flashing through his eyes.

"You dumbass," Lovino sighs, "I like you for who you are, not for whatever's between your legs."

Antonio raises an eyebrow at the blunt wording, but the smile on his lips speaks of newfound calm and reassurance.

"So, no surgery, huh?" Lovino mumbles thoughtfully. This is definitely going to be a first for him, but he finds himself eager to chart this unexplored territory.

"No. Well, except for…" He gestures vaguely at his torso. "Except for the chest. Don't look so surprised!" he protests, blushing. "I had big breasts. It made me uncomfortable."

A wave of curiosity washes over Lovino, and he doesn't have time to think twice before he asks: "Can I see?"

Antonio looks a little surprised and a little ashamed, but he nods anyway.

One step is enough to cover the distance between them. As Lovino starts to unbutton Antonio's shirt, he realizes that no matter how many chats, how many kisses, how many desperate blowjobs — this is the most intimate they've ever been. And he loves it.

The surgical scars are two horizontal lines, a little below the nipples, strikingly pale on Antonio's tan skin. Lovino traces one with his finger, feeling the rough skin, trying to imagine what the procedure was like.

"You don't mind them?" Antonio asks, a bit uncertain. Lovino shakes his head and he sighs. "They're not very pretty."

"Scars rarely are." He keeps tracing it as he looks up at Antonio. "If you don't like them, you can cover them with a tattoo. Feli can do it for you."

"I haven't…" Antonio's cheeks redden in shame and he looks away. "I haven't really told any of them about… this."

"None of them?"

"No. Although I think Fran suspects something." He sighs in defeat. "You think I should tell them?"

"I think you're not obliged to tell anyone and should only do it if you're comfortable with it. And if you choose to do it, they'll accept you and love you just the way you are."

Antonio's smile is quiet and soft and feels a lot like the first ray of sunshine on a cold morning. "Yes," he says as he brings his arms around Lovino. "Yes, I know they will."

Lovino isn't sure what kind of impulse moves him. He leans and presses his lips to one of Antonio's scars — he chooses the one on the left, so he can feel his heartbeat — and tries to transmit with his kisses a very important message: that he loves Antonio no matter what, that these scars are part of him and he couldn't possibly dislike them. That he's no longer fighting on his own.

Antonio lets out a shaky sigh, cards his fingers through Lovino's hair, buries his nose in it. He breathes out something that might be Lovino's name, and something else that might be a thank-you, and Lovino's heart is about to burst.

Then he notices that his mouth is only inches away from a pink nipple.

And now, Antonio? Will you let me love you now?

He captures the nipple with his mouth, sucking lightly, and hears Antonio gasp in something that can just as easily be surprise or pleasure. He sucks again, then bites, and the moan that escapes Antonio leaves no room for doubt now.

That. He wants to hear that again.

However, before he can reconnect his mouth to Antonio's chest, his head is yanked upwards and there's a foreign tongue invading his mouth. The kiss makes his head spin, melts his brain. He shuts his eyes tightly and sees stars behind his eyelids.

Then Antonio is pulling at him, dragging them to his bedroom, and Lovino is more than happy to follow.

~{§}~

Lovino is eager to explore Antonio's body, discover its sensitive spots, find out how he can make him scream.

He kisses him all over, revels the joys of his naked body, committing to memory every freckle, every scar. He listens to every moan and every gasp that leaves his lover's lips, uses them as a guide to find out what he likes. Oh, he definitely likes it when Lovino pushes two fingers inside him, and the string of curses that leave him when he joins them with his mouth is something else.

He makes Antonio come like that, and the way he screams Lovino's name when he reaches his climax gets burnt into his memory.

Antonio needs a minute to recover, but when he does, he decides it's his turn to take control.

And there were a couple of things that Lovino already knew about him (that he's attentive, and sweet, and very fast at grasping what he likes), but there's still a world to discover. He finds out that Antonio can and will dominate in bed, that he likes being on top, that he can move his hips in inhumane ways that make him lose his mind; and also that he's careful, keen, and makes sure they're both enjoying it.

Oh, and that he can make him go over the edge just by looking at him with darkened green eyes and whispering his name.

~{§}~

The last-but-one thing Lovino discovers that night is that Antonio loves cuddling.

When they finish and collapse next to each other, exhausted, Antonio wraps his arms around Lovino and pulls him close, hugging him to his chest as if he were the last thing keeping him alive. Lovino laughs breathlessly and kisses his collarbone, returning the hug because it feels good to be like this, cuddling with Antonio under the covers, spent and satisfied.

Antonio buries his nose in Lovino's hair, breathes in deeply, mumbles his name.

"Is it too early," he whispers, his voice low and hoarse, "or too foolish of me to say that I love you?"

Lovino chuckles. "You're a complete moron, Antonio, but you're no fool," he replies.

And that's the last thing he finds out: that they both love each other, no matter what, to the end.

FIN

AN/ According to the description on the official video of Black Leather, "the song portrays a future where gender identification and expression are no longer a barrier to fulfil one's heart's desires". So what did I do? Project my own issues with gender onto Lovino. :) And then I was like, "you know what would make this even better?" and suddenly Antonio was trans ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Hope you liked it! I, for one, I'm quite happy with how this story turned out. When I started writing it, the plot was barely defined, but it all came together quite nicely in the end. So, yeah. I'm proud of this one.

Comment? n_n