November saw a drop in temperature and the start of an usually cold winter for the area. Gilbert strolled along the beach, away from the city's smog. He wouldn't get his shoes in the sand, but he walked close enough to see the palms and the waves. They relaxed him enough to fall deep into his thoughts. He always figured that was a myth about beaches, never having seen one before moving to LA, but the waves naturally led to deep thinking. He neither loved the beach, nor hated it, but right now, he couldn't think of another place he'd rather be.
Although Halloween brought the three of them together again, some things never went back to perfect. Maybe just too many things changed. It felt like after one week of make up sex, they didn't quite know how to handle the three of them. More often than not, if one wanted to play around, they just went to the first person available and one got left out. They had different schedules so it was only natural. Of course Gilbert loved that one-on-one moments happened too. Deepening the relationship in parts deepened the three of them as a whole, right? The thing was, he noticed that the one always getting left out was him.
He didn't want to bring it up. It wasn't that big of a deal. He probably blew it out of proportion in his mind because they were all happy together and he was still getting some. Gilbert didn't need sex to be happy despite sometimes playing the part of pervert. This just made other anxieties rise in him and then anxieties about his anxieties, because why was he getting anxious in the first place? It shouldn't have mattered until he thought about how long Francis and Antonio knew each other, how much they shared. They wouldn't even allow Gilbert in the garden after he pulled up the wrong 'weeds'. Francis nearly cried. Snorting, Gilbert checked his phone and decided he should head back. The sun would set soon and he didn't want to miss dinner.
"You're late!" Francis called the second Gilbert walked in the door. "I was going to start without you." After kicking off his shoes, Gilbert followed the smell of food. Antonio sat at the table already, using the stool as his footrest and Francis' phone to play a game. Gilbert raised an eyebrow in surprise, but a thrill of happiness went through him anyway. For the first time in a week, they all gathered for dinner. After all, it wasn't like they dated and the honeymoon phase long since ended. They didn't need to act like a family and Gilbert wondered why he kept forgetting that.
"Gil's here too?" Antonio asked when he put down the phone. He went to fetch a bowl of food and Gilbert followed him to the stove. Soup—thick and creamy—sat in a large pot. Gilbert rolled his eyes even as he smiled and they all sat.
"Shouldn't it be you we're surprised to see?" he asked. It didn't help that Antonio procured a second job at a flower shop, even if he worked almost no hours there. Antonio shrugged back.
"There, there," Francis said with a pat to the brunette's hand. "He's just really happy to see you." He slid eyes over to Gilbert who dropped his gaze and grumbled. He couldn't deny what Francis said.
After that, they fell into silence. The soup tasted good, leaving little room for talk besides a few naggings at this or that. Only when they scraped the last bits of liquid from their bowls did the silence break again. "So, I'm going home for Thanksgiving," Francis started. Antonio and Gilbert stopped to stare at him. The holiday sat a week away at that point and they startled at the thought of it. Gilbert couldn't help but pout for two reasons. The American holiday meant nothing to him, but he recognized the tendency to go home, something he couldn't do. And second, Francis would leave them. He could go somewhere after all. The one who wore a worse expression though was Antonio. A Thanksgiving wasn't Thanksgiving without family and after all this time, he had yet to talk with or smooth anything over with his.
Francis looked between his friends, noticing the unexpected downcast expressions. Did he sound callous? He grabbed both of his friend's hands and made a snap decision. "Do you two want to come with me?" His mom did ask him multiple times to bring a girlfriend over for the holiday. Always the 'more the merrier' type of family, he upset them by never indulging that. This wasn't quite bringing a girlfriend home, but he didn't think his mom would mind. She always cooked too much food from the start, as if expecting ten extra people to show up out of the blue.
Gilbert and Antonio shared a look, then turned to Francis. "Is that really okay?" Gilbert asked. He didn't think Thanksgiving worked that way, but other than knowing everyone vacated the dorms and left him eating strange food alone in the cafeteria last year, he didn't know anything. Americans and their weird holidays. Antonio looked just as surprised and more than a little hopeful. He wouldn't look away from Francis' eyes, as if looking for signs of deceit. If anyone could find some, it'd be him. Even if people overlooked Antonio, he could spot every detail about everyone.
"You're just making this up on the spot. Don't offer if you can't deliver," he huffed with his arms crossed. The way he narrowed his eyes said so much more though. Whenever he showed unhappiness to this degree, they needed to be real careful with their answers. Francis' face twisted as he pulled out his phone.
"Alright already! Don't make me out to be the bad guy!" he complained. "I'll just call home and ask. Believe me, my family would love to meet my friends." Which would probably turn more uncomfortable than he'd like. He just hoped no one decided to interview these two idiots about how close they were because Antonio would surely tell it flat out. That would be interesting. Francis wondered if his family would even care. About being a player? Definitely. About his choice in friends and partners? That he didn't know. The other two stared at him as his phone dialed.
"Hello? Mama…ah yes, I'm sorry I don't call more often. I love you. Yes…" He winced and Gilbert snickered behind his hand. They could all imagine the sort of one-sided conversation confronting Francis. "Hey, can I bring some friends home for thanksgiving? They can't be with their family and I'd hate to leave them alone. No mama, not a girl…just friends." Francis bit his lip as he tried to force a smile on his face. His mother always told him you could hear a smile over the phone so best wear one at all times. Just friends. Oh yes, just friends.
Another minute of one-sided chatter left Francis pulling his hair out of its tie one strand at a time. "Actually mama, I'm eating dinner now. Can I call you back later?" he finally cut in with his fingers crossed. Only then did he get a chance to end his call with a loud sigh. "Totally not calling her back. I hope you like stuffing like…a lot. I told you it would be fine. Though she still thinks I'm bringing home a girlfriend." He rolled his eyes and was about to go back for seconds of soup when Antonio stretched across the table and threw his arms around Francis.
"Thank you so much!"
"Ah?!" Francis yelped as the table shifted dangerously and Antonio just about choked him. Gilbert stabilized the table with a dirty look as soup sloshed. "Would you stop doing things like that?!" Francis complained as he pried the other's arms off of him. He gathered his bowl and tutted all the way to the pot. "It's what friends do."
"You know you do have a girlfriend if your parents want to meet one so bad," Gilbert stated. Those two still dated, but Francis only hummed in response. Alissa turned into a sore topic as of late, Francis always electing not to explain anything. Which was weird enough behavior for him. The expression he made now looked even weirder. His entire mood seemed to darken and his eyes lost their life, like the eyes of a trapped man. And yet he never said anything bad about her. He still acted totally hung up on Alissa and even with eyes like that, his lips pulled up in a faint smile, not the least bit forced.
"Does anyone else want more soup? There's about one bowl left in here. Want to split it?" Francis dodged. Gilbert frowned and opened his mouth to comment.
Antonio stomped on his foot and smiled bright as ever at Francis' back. "That sounds great. I'll bring the bowls." He shot Gilbert a look and mouthed to him, 'Don't pry.' Gilbert hunkered down in his chair, glowering at both his friends. Just because Antonio didn't like to get involved didn't mean Gilbert should stay his mouth too. Something was going on in Francis' private life and he wanted to know it. Maybe not now, but he would pry. He felt as if he deserved to know.
They finished their dinner in silence and went their separate ways as they often did. Gilbert and Antonio sat in the living room watching bad tv and Francis went to work on a paper. Gilbert ended staying up until three finishing homework he forgot to do and he never got his chance to converse.
xXx
By Wednesday, the three friends finished finalizing their plan. Living in the same city as Francis' family meant they didn't have to travel for long, so they decided to leave early the next morning and spend the first half of the day cooking. They'd then stay the weekend at his posh house because 'Francis' mom missed her baby boy'. This in particular made Francis cringe. All three of them went to sleep excited though.
"Has anyone seen my toothbrush?" Francis called out at seven in the morning. "Or my face cream?" He riffled through the cabinets, wondering how all the normally easy to find things could could turn twice as elusive with three hurried people trying to pack.
"I thought I saw Antonio with it," Gilbert said from the doorway, wondering why Francis didn't seem to find that strange. Antonio probably grabbed half of everything in the bathroom and shoved them in his bag along with useless things, but he would still forget to bring any clean underwear. This wasn't the first time Francis traveled with him, so he expected it.
"That brat…" Francis muttered with a roll of his eyes. A series of cheeps halted the conversation as a yellow blur shifted in Gilbert's hair. Francis' eyes went wide. "…You know there's a bird on your head right?" Gilbird flittered a bit before settling into its nest again. So that's why his hair always looked so unruly. Francis covered his mouth to fight back a laugh because really, how could a person be cuter?
"Huh? Don't wake Gilbird up. He's very tired," Gilbert demanded like a mother. Francis just gaped as Gilbert made 'gimmie' motions with his hand. "And pass me my shampoo while you're at it." He carried a bag under one arm which already looking rather full despite the decent size of it.
Francis stared for another few seconds before he complied. "The weird smelling stuff right?" he asked as he passed it over.
"Yep. Better smelly than your five hair products," Gilbert snickered as he set his toiletries in the side zipper. Francis may have understood Antonio, but Gilbert's packing habits were a new and interesting territory to explore. His bag looked organized, but what all did he pack in that big thing? Francis pouted and gestured to his things gathered on the counter.
"There are only three and one is for after-shower use!" As if that made it so much less pretentious. "Tell Toni if he packed weird things again, I'm not helping him out. I'm not lending him money either," Francis made sure to tack on. Best to clarify the little detail or Antonio would assume he could take the easy way out. Though the devilish bastard would just beg his mom and win anyway. Gilbert tilted his head to the side, silent for once. After a second, he hummed and dragged his bag away, only mumbling a half-hearted okay back. Francis stared after him. What got into him? Gilbert didn't seem like himself lately and Francis thought he was the one with issues. Hopefully Thanksgiving would turn out like the vacation they planned, not the family disaster he expected in the back of his mind. It looked like they might need this break.
Somehow the three of them all got into Francis' car only eight minutes after their planned departure time and started what should have been a twenty minute drive. Holiday traffic nearly doubled the time, but they made it to the home without anyone freaking out—namely Francis or his mom. Gilbert slept the entire way and Francis shook his shoulder when he parked. Antonio already traipsed across the lawn, ignorant of the cobblestone walk, the same old brown knapsack he carried when he moved in slung over his shoulder. "Well, it's only a little big," Gilbert commented.
He imagined he could fit his aunt and uncle's house inside this one two times over. Sure they didn't have much money at the start, but it had been a humble home in a good way, not too crowded even after Gilbert and Ludwig moved in so unexpectedly. He couldn't picture this mansion-like home in any German city. Francis swept past them and knocked on the door before throwing it open. Antonio followed as if he belonged in the home as much as the older male. And Gilbert, his bag feeling awkward and heavy in his hand, trailed behind.
"Francis dear!" a curvaceous woman called out before dragging the taller Francis into her arms. "You don't come home often enough! You'll have to tell me every detail of your life after lunch!" She wore younger fashion and her wrinkles like a flattering accessory. Her eyes shone a deep chocolate color, but the blonde waves wrapped behind her head matched her son's.
"Mama…" Francis whined. He wore a 'kill me now' sort of expression before he managed to push his mother away. "You're embarrassing me in front of my friends!"
"Ah, Antonio! It's been so many years. My how you've grown," the woman exclaimed as she whirled away. "You know you're always welcome here." Antonio thanked her as he returned the hug, clearly familiar with the woman. Gilbert shifted with even more discomfort before she turned her attention to him. "And who's this? You've brought a new friend. Are you the third one living with my son?"
Gilbert held out a hand and introduced himself. "Yes, that's me. We met last year." He had to remind himself to speak in English because his nerves pulled so tight. "Thank you for inviting us to this this…uh, thanksgiving?" he hesitated as he glanced at the others, trying to make sure he got the holiday's name right.
"Oh! That accent. Where are you from dear?" His mom asked and Gilbert furrowed his brow before answering.
"…Germany. I lived most of my life in Potsdam and before that, Havelberg." He didn't know what words to say. Normally he just left off at Germany, but Francis' mom sounded like she wanted details.
"Is that so?" The woman placed one hand on Gilbert's back and started to guide him out of the room. "Why don't you tell me all about it." Gilbert glanced back at Francis, eyes wide and desperate. Why did he feel like he was being kidnapped? The other two just let him be dragged away though with farewell waves.
"So," Francis started when he stood alone with Antonio again. "Should we go to my room and put away our things? Gilbert can have the guest room. He should like that assuming she doesn't question him to death." Both grinned and headed for the stairs. They certainly weren't going to get in the way of the head of this house and her ability to pull details out the tightest lips. Better Gilbert than them.
The peaceful time didn't last long though. Everyone crammed into the kitchen, guests and all. Granted, the kitchen was big and there were only five of them. It still turned cooking into a mad scrabble as they raced to finish by noon. Apparently this family did not believe in preparing the meal for others. No, if you wanted to eat, you cooked. Antonio smiled all too happily about this and Gilbert flailed behind, not even familiar with the traditional Thanksgiving dishes. It didn't surprise him at all when they finished exactly on time. His own family would look on with pride at the punctual display, and dizziness at the amount of food.
They sat at a long table with an orange, leafy centerpiece and doily in the middle. The food platters took up so much space they could barely set down their individual plates and the full set of rose emblemed silverware. Everything about the home and Francis' family reeked of wealth and class, but as Francis once explained, the wealth came by them in his father's generation. The family lacked the aristocratic air of one from old money and perhaps that made them seem even more spoiled. Still, on a day like this with a candle in the center of the table and hands held as they said grace—the only time of the year they'd ever hear Francis say it—the home felt cozy. Francis thanked his judgement in bringing his friend's along because it felt that much more like family. If he wasn't getting lethargic off of turkey and stuffing, he might analyze that emotion more.
"So Francis darling, when are you going to get a girlfriend?" his mom started halfway through lunch. Francis choked on a giblet, his eyes going wide. A silence dropped down over the room with it's displays of china against the wall and academic period art on the wall. Francis glanced over at his friends, then at his mom and the pale blue eyes of his father.
"Actually, I have one. Her name is Alissa." He didn't feel any desire to elaborate. So much for a peaceful family dinner, but Francis didn't really expect less.
Brown eyes went wide as his mother's face broke out in a smile. "Excellent! But why didn't you bring her to meet us? Your friends are lovely, but you're twenty-five." She gasped suddenly before her eyes narrowed. "She's not of ill repute is she?"
"Mama!" Francis complained. "It's not like that. We've only been dating a few months and she has her own family." And he wouldn't want to bring her into this anyway. Even if he was head over heels in love and happy. And happy? He lowered his eyes. No, he just didn't want to subject anyone to his family. He could subject his friends because they didn't need to think highly of him. He'd already ruined that image long ago. A girlfriend was something he needed to lie to.
His mom hummed to herself as if she didn't believe Francis, so she turned to Gilbert next, making the young man jump. He already had enough of that woman to last him a lifetime and he did not like all these eyes on him. "Is it true? If it's Francis or Antonio, they'll lie just to shut me up. How many years has that happened? But you're the honorable friend, I can tell. You wouldn't lie to me." Her voice pitched lower, her eyes unblinking. It wasn't a question. The tone said that, without a doubt, Gilbert would not lie to her. He swallowed down a too big gulp of tea and tried and failed to meet her eye.
"I-it's true. I've definitely seen her. A…very proper girl…" Oh god, he had no idea what to say. He felt he might die from eating a meal with Francis' family. If Thanksgiving was like this, he felt glad Germany didn't have anything quite like it. It took another few seconds before the attention finally turned away from him. "I think it's time for dessert!" Francis' mom exclaimed. Mr. Bonnefoy sawed off a bite of meat with a thunk of knife on ceramic plate.
"I'll go get it!" Antonio answered. He skipped over to where the pies sat on the granite counter top and Gilbert jumped to his feet after him, announcing that he would help. As they left, they heard Francis' interrogation continue, this time from his father. "How are your grades, son…?" Anything more than that, they couldn't hear. Once alone in the kitchen, Gilbert let his stressed face show. Antonio patted him on the back.
"Isn't it wonderful? It's like free tv! You should have seen them his senior year of high school. I thought Francis would pop under their expectations, like a frog when you put it in the microwave."
"You're just as bad as they are…" Gilbert grumbled. "And a frog? Is that a real saying or something you made up?" He might need a drink to live through an entire weekend of this. Antonio just smiled as he grabbed the pumpkin, leaving the pecan for Gilbert.
As they brought out the pies, he wondered if Francis knew how much fun Antonio got at his expense. The relieved smile at their return said not. Somehow they survived dinner though without being forced to reveal all of their secrets, which was a game in itself, one only Antonio seemed suited for. By the time the parents released them to play by themselves, Francis and Gilbert looked ready to collapse. Antonio went to fetch some sodas while the other two lay like two dead things on Francis' bed.
Gilbert reached over to pat the older man's back. "I understand why you don't like to come home," he said with solemn nod. "You really brought us because you're afraid to be alone with them didn't you?"
Francis' face twisted. "…It did cross my mind. But you heard them! If they knew the half of it, they'd tear me to pieces!" He groaned into his hands. His family had no idea what a 'good' boy they raised. He almost regretted his decisions, but this tended to happen when he came home. The feeling always passed a week after getting away from them. He figured the same would happen after this weekend too. Francis buried his face in the comforter and very nearly screamed. Only when his phone buzzed did he lift his head. When he clicked on the message, Gilbert leaned over to read the screen.
Alissa. She just sent a little 'Happy Thanksgiving' note with a few smilies, but Gilbert forced down a sneer. He met her once and yet he hated her. The expression on Francis' face hesitated somewhere between weary and smiling. Gilbert watched it droop more before Francis closed his phone again without responding to the message. No more, no more of this keeping quiet. "Why didn't you bring her home? I mean, do you even like that girl?" Gilbert asked.
Francis made a face, but his look of warning didn't make Gilbert blink. "Don't want my parents prying," he finally answered. That much should have been obvious after dinner. He tilted his head, giving Gilbert an odd look. It didn't make sense that he asked what he did. "Of course I like her. I wouldn't be with a single person for this long if I didn't. You should know that."
Gilbert wondered if that counted for him and Antonio as well. Their casual relationship lasted for just as long and their friendship even longer. What kind of like did they have? Gilbert shook his thoughts away. This wasn't the time for that and a part of him thought no time would be. He didn't want to get involved with people close to him because of this in the first place. His thoughts always turned weird. "Maybe I should rephrase. Are you happy?" He knew better than most that you could love someone and not be the least bit happy with them.
Francis didn't respond immediately. When he did though, it was with a loud sigh. "Well, isn't that the question?" he asked as he dragged a hand through his hair. "I don't even know anymore. Happy or not. I think it's a little more complicated than that." He didn't know the answer to that question any more than Gilbert did. "It's not like I haven't considered breaking up with her before. I shouldn't be hung up since I don't know a thing about her after all this time, but when she smiles, I can't look away from her eyes. Way a while ago, she asked if we were breaking up because I wouldn't pick her over you guys."
Gilbert looked at him in surprise. He sat cross-legged, giving Francis all of his attention as he chewed on his bottom lip. "Really? Then why didn't you?" Gilbert felt strangely happy when he heard that and he didn't know who he felt happy for. Him or Francis? No, no, he just felt concerned for Francis and he would push today until he knew his friend was alright.
The distinct and heavy look in Francis' eyes said more than enough. "Because she didn't want to. She said she wouldn't let me go and she hasn't. Even though I'm not against us, it still feels like she's woven some kind of spell. It makes me love her no matter if I like her or not. She's the person of my dreams. I don't think I can walk away until she tells me to," he whispered in a voice too tiny for the big room. Francis sat with his eyes locked on a painting by Monet, the calming sweep of the bridge doing nothing for him right then. The idea of talking about Alissa always made him want to run, especially when Gilbert stared like he just proclaimed she threatened to kill him.
"W-what the hell?" Gilbert gaped. Francis slid his eyes over to his friend, catching the wide-eyed look. He didn't quite understand. Suddenly Gilbert surged toward him and grabbed his shirt collar. "Break up with her! Do it now!" He shook Francis as he yelled and the older man couldn't even stutter out a response. "That's not a healthy relationship at all! That's practically abuse!"
"W-wha-? Why?" Gilbert never acted this irrational. "She's not doing anything to me. Why are you so angry?!" Francis grasped Gilbert's hands and managed to pry them away. Gilbert didn't seem to notice. He wore a look on his face that made something inside Francis snap. It was wrong, false, and so sickening to see someone look at him with horror and pity and…understanding? Francis didn't even know. This was all getting weird and it made him angry. Angry like he'd never been at Gilbert before. "You're just jealous so shut it, Gilbert. I love him and even if you beg me, who my heart belongs to isn't going to change!"
Gilbert's eyes went wide and he jerked away. For half a minute, they didn't say anything. They didn't know what to say. Francis wanted to take his words back, but Gilbert already looked like Francis slapped him. Just as he was about to leave, the door swung open.
"I hope orange is okay!" Antonio grinned as he bounced onto the bed. He snuggled into the gap between his friends, wrapping one arms around each of them. When Francis and Gilbert took the sodas he handed over without a word, he glanced between his friend's faces in confusion. "Eh, is something wrong?" he asked. Frowning, he tried to pull them even closer together. They let him, but Antonio couldn't shake the feeling that he missed something even when they assured him that they were just tired. Antonio huffed. He wasn't stupid, but he couldn't force them to talk either. Instead, the three of them just lay together in a haphazard mess, sipping orange soda like they didn't notice Francis and Gilbert not touching.
The day passed in a daze after that. Gilbert found himself alone in a neat and artificial room with not much more than a bed and table, organized as only things no one ever used could be. He lay on the bed, hearing an empty silence. Antonio and Francis got to stay together like usual and he got to be alone. If he knew they planned it this way, he would have objected. But after their fight, Gilbert only felt thankful. I think I'm getting weird. He pressed an arm over his eyes. He couldn't block out his thoughts though, even if he didn't know what they tried to tell him. Francis called him jealous. Was that the crazed, panicked thing inside of him? He didn't call Francis out because of jealousy, but what if he was?
Gilbert pulled the panda out of his bag and squished the fat animal between his arms. "I knew I was right to bring you," he whispered to the worn black ears. Ever since the day his aunt bought the panda for him, he kept it close. At age eight, he understood and didn't understand why his mom couldn't hug him anymore. Gilbert still remembered when his aunt bought the panda, then almost as big as him. She told him to hug it whenever he felt lonely and that would be like hugging mommy. The panda always felt warm and when he put its arms around him, he could believe his mother returned the hug. Now twenty-two, he still felt the kinship with his panda, even knowing it would never hug him back.
"What should I do? I feel even more alone now than before I met them," he asked the panda. As always, the animal said nothing back. It struck Gilbert so clearly now that he would always be the odd one out. He kidded himself thinking three people could be together happily. This was just a causal thing and it already felt strained. He'd been thinking it for most of the month already. Now he could admit it to himself. A three-way just couldn't work. Maybe I should end things with them before I fall too far to save my heart. Gilbert groaned. Who was he kidding? He got on Francis' case, but he was just as caught up in a web no good for him. Maybe he just had a talent with finding relationships like that. Maybe his head and heart went looking for it. Gilbert forced back a sniffle as he curled on top of the too perfect sheets. Without a doubt, he couldn't pull away from Francis and Antonio even if he tried.