Antonio's old soccer ball had been with him through a lot. He had gotten it, a brand new, pristine ball, for his sixth birthday. In California, he had played with it relentlessly. With Francis and Gilbert. With other kids in his neighborhood. With the side of the house (much to his mother's annoyance). Antonio had taken it to school many a time to play with during recess and once he'd used it for his show-and-tell to the class.

In New York, his love for the ball had been no different. On the car ride over, he had kept it in his lap the whole time. His mother had tried to convince him to pack it away in the moving trucks or even in the trunk of the car, but Antonio wanted to keep it close. It was like a stuffed animal or blanket to him. It was his greatest comfort.

So whenever they stopped at an inn or gas station, Antonio would run to find an open area to play with the well worn ball. He would chase it and make goals out of the oddest places like the side of the wall to the rest stop's restrooms or a trashcan. At one hotel they had stopped at for the second night of traversing the country, Antonio succeeded in gathering a wide array of kids to play with. Some were other guests of the inn, some local, and some were the children of the hotel's staff.

Antonio had so much fun on that trip, if he was honest. But it wasn't entirely so either. He was ten years old and stuck in a car for hours at a time. He looked out the window and used the neat little travel table his mom had strapped to the back of the passenger side seat to color, but mostly he gazed longingly at the ball he kept with him and thought of all they were leaving behind.

He remembered how emotional his mom had been on that trip. She would laugh and look for all the world like the most liberated woman alive and Antonio wondered if it was because they were getting further and further away. From California? From Papa?

Then she would be sad. She would watch the setting sun and fiddle with her old ring, the one she didn't wear anymore. At night she would cry when she thought Antonio had fallen asleep.

Antonio knew his mom and dad didn't get along well anymore. That was why they were moving away. Why his mother still cried, though, was a mystery. Hadn't this been what she'd wanted?

It was too much for this little ten year old to understand.

Soccer was very important to Antonio. This ball had been given to him by his parents - both of them - when they had still been happy together. It was all sentiment though. Antonio would never think of a present situation where they could still be together and happy. They were happy now apart and that's just how it went.

Besides, Antonio would have never come to New York, never met Lovino or played on the school soccer team or gone out with Emma or done so many other great things here that he would never trade for the world, if his parents were still together.

So, yeah, that soccer ball told a lot about his past. It was reminder of good times and bad times and boring days and the summer sun and backyards and a tall oak tree in the park. And it was a reminder of all the people Antonio couldn't have lived without.

-/-

"Aren't you supposed to be the football player here?" Lovino taunted as he traded the ball between feet and darted to the side. Antonio went after him, an easy maneuver to counteract, but, of course, Lovino didn't need to know that. Lovino was practically giggling in glee and Antonio was having the kind of fun that one simply couldn't have during actual practices. Instead of drills and exercises, they were playing a one-on-one with dodging and stealing and even a little foul play. "Wow, the off season really has you in bad shape." His friend continued, shouting behind him as he ran away, juggling the ball from foot to foot.

"Hey! For you information, I've played a lot of soccer since season ended!" Antonio yelled after him, shooting toward the ball with a new vigor. It was game time now.

"Hey!" Lovino exclaimed when the ball was snatched from his grasp, but Antonio was already down the other side of the field. The AstroTurf below his tennis shoes felt like an old home, even though he hadn't played on such fields for most of his life. He was without cleats or shin guards which wouldn't have been a big deal if he hadn't been playing against Lovino. The other boy was brutal when trying to retrieve the ball.

"Ouch!" Antonio shouted, hopping on one foot and watching Lovino take off with the ball. Antonio couldn't ever be sure if Lovino kicked like that on purpose - if he used foul play or was simply trying to snatch the ball away. "That was a foul!"

Lovino wasn't listening, instead racing again to his side of the field. Once again, Antonio took off, but it was too late. "Goooaaalll!" Lovino roared, throwing his head back and lifting his arms to the heavens. The battered ball lay in the net, forgotten, as Lovino celebrated and Antonio continued to shoot down the field. Only seconds later Lovino's bellow instead turned into an alarmed shout when Antonio tackled him to the ground.

The next thing they both knew they were laying side by side on the fake grass, breathing heavily and laughing between each labored puff of air. "You…" Antonio breathed, taking each word slow, "Cheater."

"Me?" Lovino answered, equally exhausted, "You tackled," breath, "Me."

"Because you cheated," a breath from Antonio, "First."

Lovino laughed then. "Yeah, right." Despite being too tired to insert the proper amount of sarcasm into his voice, Antonio recognized it anyway.

They stayed like that until they both caught their breath, then hoisted themselves up. Lovino was the first one up and he offered a hand to Antonio. Then they strolled to their backpacks which they had ditched at the edge of the field and, like the twenty-first century teenagers they were, they each immediately checked the phones they had left there so as to not crush them in their sport.

"Feli's cooking tonight. We'll definitely have extra pasta. Wanna come over?" Lovino commented on the text he seemed to be reading without looking up from the phone. Antonio shrugged and scrolled through his own messages. A couple from his group chat with Gilbert and Francis (most likely memes and complaints about some classmate's fashion), one from his mom saying she would be at work late. All pretty much to protocol. Except...

Emma: Hey Toni! About that rain check from winter break… wanna go out this weekend?

Antonio's eyebrows hiked up to his hairline. He had almost forgotten about that. Well, sure, they had seen each other in school - even talked a decent bit in class - but all their texting had pretty much gone down since the end of break. He had completely forgotten about his promise.

So, naturally, he shot back a text immediately, confirming that, yes, he would love to. It was only fair. And he wouldn't want her to know he had forgotten.

"Is that a yes? Is that a no?" Lovino prompted and Antonio looked up.

"Huh?"

His friend rolled his eyes. "Food. My place. You coming?"

"Oh," Antonio said, "Yeah! Definitely."

"Awesome." Lovino swung his backpack over his shoulder, "Let's get going then."

The walk home wasn't all that eventful. Usually it wasn't. Just two kids utilizing worn, rocky sidewalks, kicking pebbles back and forth between them. By the time they made it to the Vargas household, the sky was purple and orange and Lovino's house was alight against the backdrop of a darkened sky. Lovino scoffed. "Feli never turns any lights off, does he?"

Antonio laughed and they entered the house. The shift between the stillness of the evening and the hustle of the Vargas household lifted Antonio's mellowed spirit. Feliciano had been the only one home, but he sure knew how to occupy an area. The house was bright, there were smells of pasta and candles about, and there was music in the air.

They both kicked off their shoes at the door and Lovino threw his backpack down. Antonio opted on hanging his. Lovino disappeared into the room to the right and Antonio took his time following. The place was like a second home to him anyway.

By the time Antonio had gone through the hallway, cut through the dining room, and into the kitchen, Lovino was already propped onto the counter beside his brother, gesturing wildly to the pan of sauce Feliciano was stirring.

"Hi, Antonio!" Feliciano greeted in his usual bubbly nature. He was blatantly ignoring his brother's criticisms for the sole reason of annoying him. Antonio smirked at the natural brotherly interaction. Antonio had never had anything like that - the closest being his relationship with Lovino. He had a brother, but he was far older than him and lived back in California.

"Hello, Feli! I heard you are making pasta?" Antonio responded amiably.

Feliciano smiled in an almost innocent way. Antonio knew this meant he should expect some sort of joke from the boy. "Is that such a surprise?" Feli knew the jokes that went around about his love for pasta, but he was never one to take something like that negatively. He was a sensitive boy, but also an optimistic one.

Antonio shook his head weakly, smiling like he really should have expected a joke like that. "I suppose not. So, how are you, Feli?"

"Oh, same old same old." The auburn-haired boy waved his wooden spoon, gesticulating as he spoke and splattering a quarter-sized dollop of sauce on the floor. Lovino sighed at the sight, but said nothing. It was really to be expected around the younger Italian. "I got this new candle here at the store. Isn't it lovely?"

"It is. And, is this opera?" Antonio asked.

Feliciano nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! Isn't it beautiful? I just love opera." He looked rather dreamy as he shut his eyes and absorbed the music. Antonio looked at Lovino for his reaction and was not surprised to see him roll his eyes. It was so normal for Lovino, but when it was directed toward his brother Antonio always smiled fondly at the sight.

For a long time Antonio had worried Lovino hated his family. His mother for not being there. His father for being too harsh. His brother for getting everything and being the 'favorite'. But he was different with Feliciano. He was protective towards his little brother with a fierceness that Antonio had only seen a few number of times in regards to other things in the years they had known each other.

Lovino put so much determination toward anything he set his mind to - that was his ridiculous stubbornness. His aggressive love and need to protect was something else entirely. These were saved to use against people who picked on Feliciano and for the moments when Antonio just couldn't see a way to move forward when every paper back had a big red F at the top.

"Dinner's ready!" Feliciano exclaimed, pulling plates out of the cabinets. Lovino swung down from the countertop and went to the silverware drawer and Antonio turned to the pantry that kept the glasses. It was a system, one the three had never had to speak of. They could just work in this way without speaking, without getting in each other's way, without hesitation.

In no time the table was set and dinner was served. Three spaces. No adults required or wanted. Antonio didn't have to ask where their father was, neither did he wish to. It was much too pleasant a night to bring up such things.

So dinner carried out in light chatter and the twirling of forks and a lot of Antonio chasing his dangling pasta that hung from his own utensil. The other two were quite mastered at the sport, but Antonio had never gotten the hang of it. It just didn't seem possible to get the long noodles all on the small surface of one fork. And, in this house, it was blasphemy to cut the pasta any shorter than it already was.

The steady clinking of forks against plates was disrupted when Feliciano's clattered to his plate. He was gripping his phone, now in both hands, and rapidly texting as if his very life depended on it.

"And he scolds me for using my phone at the table." Lovino muttered, reaching for his glass of water. He was interrupted by a loud Shhh! from his brother and Lovino looked absolutely affronted. He looked back and forth between Feliciano and Antonio for a few seconds before asking, "What?"

Feliciano waved his hand toward his brother without looking up from the phone and Lovino and Antonio shared a look. Then, Feliciano's eyes snapped up and latched to Antonio's own. Antonio almost fell out of his chair.

"Oh my gosh! You're taking Emma out?!" Feliciano was leaning forward as close as he could from across the table. Antonio was worried for the table's integrity and for the front of Feliciano's shirt which he was sure would have red sauce stains on it before this was over.

"Um…" Antonio's eyes darted around, as if looking for their own explanation, "Yeah?"

This seemed to be a well enough response because Feliciano leaned back (thankfully without any shirt stains) and clapped his hands over his mouth. He let out a little excited squeal. "I didn't know you liked her!"

Antonio chuckled, not sure what else to do. He scratched the back of his neck. "Well, she asked me out before break, but I couldn't do it since I was going to California, so I guess this is what makes up for it?"

Feliciano let out another squeal. "Oh my God; this is so cute!" He dived back into his phone and typed away. Antonio let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd needed now that the attention was off of him.

Or so he'd thought, at least. "You're going out with Emma?" Lovino asked. Antonio glanced over at his friend and was surprised to see an array of emotions dancing across his face. Before he could distinguish any one from the others, Lovino closed off, completely emotionless. Antonio blinked. He had never done that before. Antonio had seen Lovino do that with his father and his father only. Never to anyone else.

So why was Antonio now at the other end of this look?

Antonio nodded in response to Lovino's question. He had no idea what to say. Yeah, is that okay with you? Why would Antonio need to say that?

Lovino nodded back. He tried for nonchalance. "Cool." He went back to twirling his pasta, closing himself off from the conversation.

Lovino, what's wrong? Antonio wanted to ask. Why did you suddenly close off? What is it that you're avoiding telling me?

But, instead of speaking any of those thoughts aloud, Antonio let the weight of the unspoken suffocate the rest of dinner. Shortly after, not able to handle the atmosphere any longer, Antonio said his goodbyes and went home. Now, with his bookbag and a Tupperware of leftovers Feliciano had insisted he give to his mother when she got home, Antonio was alone in the cool night air.

Dark rain clouds obscured his view of the stars and only a thin sliver of the moon shone through in a luminescent beam. It was a short distance between their two houses, literally a couple of feet apart, but it was enough for Antonio to contemplate everything that had happened that night.

And even after he had been home for hours, Antonio still could not piece together what had gone so wrong.

-/-

Antonio had been fast asleep when the knocking on his window woke him up. Whoever it was had no regard towards those of the world who might have actually been sleeping at - at- damn it, what time was it?

Antonio rolled over, the tiny red lights of his alarm clock signalling a time that was quite displeasing to the sleep-lover.

3:46am

Antonio groaned loudly. He should be thanking someone, something, everything, that it was the weekend because if he had woken up at this time on a school day when he got up at 5:30am anyway, it would have been quite an inconvenience to put it lightly. He was not thanking though. He was cursing. Cursing the ground the person walked on and every one of their descendents.

The knocking sounded again and Antonio threw his head under his pillow. Would someone make that horrible sound stop? They would be his hero. He would willingly indebt himself for life right now to whoever saved him from such a horrendous noise.

But the noise continued. And no prince charming was coming to rescue poor Antonio from it. So this damsel would have to save himself. Ugh.

So Antonio threw his pillow and wrestled his blankets off of him, not caring that most of them ended up on the floor. He struggled to the window, pathetically failing in trying to stalk his way angrily toward it, and threw it open. Another, equally annoyed face stared back at him.

"Finally!" Lovino whisper-shouted in the dark morning, "I thought you were going to leave me out here all night."

Antonio blinked, unsure as to why he was so surprised at his friend's appearance. Lovino was the only one to ever knock on his window, yet Antonio had somehow convinced himself it would be a dragon to vanquish. Man, his sleep-deprived state was something he should really get a handle on.

"Lovi?" Antonio asked sleepily, all the fight leaving him. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, "What are you doing here?"

Lovino huffed and crossed his arms. Antonio noticed he was in his long pajama pants and that they were currently folded up many times so they wouldn't touch the ground. "Why do you think I'm here, bastard?"

Antonio rolled his eyes. "What a way to treat someone who's gonna let you in their house through a back window at four in the morning." Antonio let him in anyway.

They ended up staring at the ceiling again, but this time things were different. Before Lovino hadn't kept his face so neutral. Before it hadn't been so difficult to think of things to talk about. Things had never been so… awkward between the two.

It was at least an hour before Antonio started to feel sleepy again and his eyes began to droop. A whisper jogged his conscious though.

"Antonio?"

Antonio blinked and turned toward the boy next to him. "Hm?"

"I just- I was wondering-" Lovino seemed to struggle with his words, much to the boy's impatience. He huffed and fell silent.

Antonio nudged him, prompting him to go on, "Yes?"

Lovino paused for another second before trying again. "I wanted to know… why you didn't tell me about your date with Emma…"

Antonio's eyebrows shot up. "Huh?" He remarked before he could think it through. Lovino quickly went to explaining himself.

"I mean- I just thought- well- we tell each other everything, don't we? I mean, I guess we don't have to. You don't have to tell me. And I guess there are things that I prefer not to talk about either. But I do. Talk about them, I mean. But you don't have to-" Lovino seemed to realize that he was rambling then and quickly shut his mouth. He looked away and pulled the covers up closer to his face, as if intending to hide behind it.

Antonio's reaction was almost instantaneous. He jumped and wrapped his arms around his friend. "That's what you were worried about? Oh, Lovi, I thought you were mad at me! Or maybe that something had happened! I didn't know what to think; you just closed off and you had never done that before and I was so worried!" Antonio held his friend tight and he could feel how stiff Lovino was in his arms. Lovino had never been very touchy-feely, but he tolerated Antonio.

Antonio thought he had subjected the boy to enough physical contact to last a while and pulled away. Lovino was facing him again, face red and eyes wide. "I wasn't keeping it from you, Lovino. I got her text right after our soccer match today and I didn't find it really relevant to bring it up."

Lovino pursed his lips. "But I thought she asked you out before break…" he mumbled.

"Well, yeah. We never went out, but we texted a bit. I just didn't think it was a big deal." Antonio examined his friend. "You know… I'm not going to get a new best friend just like that."

Lovino's eyes widened again. "W-what?!"

Antonio laughed. "You can't hide it. I can see it. You're jealous, aren't you?"

Lovino sputtered. "A-am not!"

"Oh, Lovi~" Antonio sang, "You don't have to pretend. I see now, but know this," Antonio put one finger up, punctuating the point he was about to make, "You will never get rid of me that easily."

Lovino scoffed and rolled over. "You are such an idiot."

"Me?" Antonio said, still laughing. "Why never!"

Lovino let out a single breathy laugh which caused a smile to dance across Antonio's face. They were silent for a while before Antonio whispered into the darkness this time.

"Were you really worried about that though?"

Lovino shifted to face him. There was an undeniable truth in the other's eyes, one that answered his question without words and so Lovino didn't speak.

Antonio snuggled further into the thick quilt that covered the two as they watched each other. No words were required as Antonio observed his friend grow tired, and nod off, and, eventually, finally, fall asleep. It was Antonio's favorite part. When Lovino was actually asleep. It made him feel like he had done something right. It made him just a little less worried for his friend. And the serene expression Lovino wore when he was lost to the world like this made it all the more special.

It rained that early morning, before the sun had even thought of rising. It pattered against the glass of his window and reflected off of the walls of his bedroom. It was a relaxing experience.

Antonio wasn't tired nor did he feel quite awake. It was that ethereal time where it was neither morning or night - where thoughts were non-existent yet were your only company - where no one else in the world existed but you were such an insignificant dot in the massive population of the world and the universe.

Antonio didn't know what prompted him to do it, but, before he knew it, he had rested his hand atop Lovino's, the one the boy had sprawled next to his head on the extra pillow Antonio kept that they both knew really belonged to Lovino.

He watched their hands. He thought of how the other's felt against his. It wasn't the first time he had held his hand, but Antonio couldn't help but handling it as if it was something he had never done before.

He retracted his hand sometime after. His mind was still swimming with thoughts of Lovino and Emma. Emma's texts. Lovino's hand. How Emma always smelled like her family's bakery. How Lovino was so protective of his little brother. How elegant Emma's handwriting was when she wanted it to be. How Antonio sometimes didn't know if it was determination or stubbornness that made Lovino do things.

So he whispered one last thing to Lovino, long after the last words they had exchanged.

"I'm glad you care, Lovino."

CV: Anyone here ever play soccer (football, whatever) by using a trashcan as a goal? Fun fact: that's how one of my best friends and I met! The more ya know. Also, another childhood thing. Does anyone remember those table things that strapped to the back of a seat so you could color during car rides? I had a Hello Kitty one that we only took out during long car trips.

Opera + Feli is one of my fav headcanons

Thank you everyone following, favoriting, reading, and reviewing this story! And thank you so much to EllaAwkward and whoever recommended me for mentioning me in their author's notes. I am still in the process of reading "GAY-OK Cafe" which is why I have not left a comment yet, but it's a lot of fun to read and you guys should all check it out!

See you next time!