Morning came late, or as late as Monday mornings ever came for them. Rammstein blared through the house, on it's second run through of the alarm. Antonio knocked on Gilbert's door. "Gilbo, you need to go to class!" he called. Pausing, he wondered if bribery might work better. "Do you want an omelet? The tomatoes and spinach are still fresh." Nothing. "No? Pancakes then?" Antonio still remembered when Francis told him they, as the elders, should look after Gilbert. And the alarm really did hurt his ears. Francis hadn't moved from his room yet so that left Antonio.

Sighing, he decided to use his secret weapon. As often before, Gilbert left their connecting door unlocked and Antonio tip-toed through it. Wait, why was he tip-toeing? If Gilbert didn't wake up from that metal howling, then he wouldn't from Antonio sneaking in. He switched to stomping and jumped onto Gilbert's bed next to the huddled pile of blankets. "Wake up~!" he sung as he shook Gilbert. Nothing showed from under the huddled blankets, not a toe or strand of hair. Judging by the size of the lump, at least one stuffed animal was trapped under the blankets as well. "Time to go to school, baby birdie!"

"No! Don't wanna!" Gilbert whined. He definitely didn't wake if he didn't take offense to the baby comment. "I hate school!" Even his voice sounded high like a child's. Antonio collapsed on top of him and wrapped his limbs around the Gilbert lump. He picked at the edges of the blanket and tried to pry it up, though Gilbert obviously had his hands clenched in the material too. Antonio did manage to reveal a patch of creamy white hair.

"No you don't," he responded as he tugged on one of the strands. Not getting a reaction, Antonio yanked as hard as he could. He squeezed the body under him and clawed at the blankets. "Yah! I know you're awake! What are you, five?" He managed to yank Gilbert's head around by his hair. The squeezed closed eyes finally shot open with a yelp of pain. Gilbert bucked and dislodged Antonio's hand. A second later, his red eyes widened more.

"Antonio?" Gilbert questioned. "Why are you on top of me?!"

Antonio looked down at himself. There he was again sitting on top of Gilbert wearing naught but his boxers. "Oops, my bad. I guess you weren't awake after all. I didn't say anything much, don't worry," Antonio flashed a smile half-innocent, and half-sheepish. Gilbert narrowed his eyes at him. Antonio realized he still sat on his friend and slid backwards to the bed. "See, I'm just waking you up!" For a second, they sat in silence like that with Gilbert staring at him, really staring. Antonio thought he made a mistake and started to inch backwards. Before he could make a foot of progress though, Gilbert flung himself into Antonio's arms.

"E-eh? Gilbert? Wake up already! This is getting weird!" Even though he saw Gilbert's eyes, the sign he finally woke up, he wasn't acting like a waking person. Antonio sat there with his arms out at his sides because maybe this was a sneak attack and the second he hugged Gilbert back, he'd get kicked in the ribs. He felt sure something similar happened before, but that might have been in a dream.

"You're still here. Ugh, please don't make me go to class. I really don't want to," Gilbert whispered, his voice taking on a watery quality.

Wait, still here? Antonio wasn't the one pulling away. Gilbert made less sense than normal. Antonio eyed him for a bit, then patted his back, still wary to complete the hug. After he decided how to act with this emotional Gilbert, he let out a hum. "That's fine with me. I'm happy to spend all day with you…and Francis too. Just like we used to when you and Fran skipped class to drink behind the dorm building with me! Except, without alcohol, and dorms. Oh, we can bake and garden just like on the weekends! I'm sure you'll have lot of fun too!" he exclaimed with growing excitement. A wheezing noise broke off his tirade. Gilbert threw back the rest of his covers and dropped out of the bed.

"A-actually, school doesn't sound bad after all. I'll see you after lunch, Toni!" Gilbert waved before nigh dashing out of the room. Before he could forget, Antonio turned off the alarm. He actually stopped hearing it minutes ago, like Rammstein could become background noise. Alone now, he rubbed the back of his neck with a lopsided smile.

"Oh well. A day of gardening did sound fun though."

Gilbert popped his head back in. "You weren't kidding about the omelets were you?" He stood with a hand on his hip, looking as cocky and demanding as when they first met, before they changed. Well, Gilbert was still Gilbert. Antonio burst out laughing and said he would make breakfast as he led the way to the kitchen.

Enough ingredients to make another omelet still sat out on the counter. After Gilbert left, maybe in time to make it to his class, Antonio burst into Francis' room. "Francy-france! Ooh! That's a good name. I should remember to use it again." He crawled into Francis' bed and curled along his back, arms around his waist. "Wakey-wakey eggs and cheesy," he cooed before he started to nibble on Francis' ear. Francis stirred and Antonio let his hands wander as he continued to tease him. All of a sudden, Francis rolled and a knee slammed into Antonio's stomach. He tumbled backwards off the bed and into the dresser with a yelp.

"You do know that my wake up time is set thirty minutes from now, right?" Francis growled. Antonio lay on the floor where he fell, one foot still perched on the bed. Well, that was new. Francis beat him up in the morning, not Gilbert. Antonio apparently prepared for pain at the wrong time.

"I know," Antonio answered after Francis grabbed his sheets around him again and curled up, back to Antonio. "But I wanted to talk to you. Can I make you an omelet?"

Francis huffed and didn't move. "In thirty minutes," he muttered, not giving Antonio the answer he wanted. The younger man pouted hard at the wall for all the good it did him. Before he could complain and ask again, Francis made himself more clear. "And I do not want to talk. Go away, Toni."

For a second, Antonio sat in silence. Then he breathed out and shuffled until he sat properly against the dresser. His head hurt, but the little pride he did have hurt more. He took another second to figure out how to do what both he and Francis wanted at the same time. "Hmkay, you don't have to talk to me. I'll just sit here and talk to myself because I like talking. Then in thirty minutes, I'll make you an omelet." Francis didn't disagree, though he said he was going to sleep. That was code wasn't it? He couldn't admit to listening, but it was an invitation for Antonio to speak his mind in a safe environment for both of them. Antonio sent up a little prayer of thanks, then jumped into his monologue.

Antonio discounted everything Gilbert told him last night on the porch. Then, he kept talking. He said how he felt. He could love them, given a chance. Francis shouldn't be pulling away just because he felt afraid and nor should Gilbert. Antonio wanted them to never split ways. That was the most important part. Francis once said rain couldn't be put back into clouds and he remembered it because what a neat saying. Today he thought it applied more than in most moments. Why would Francis run forward then, but not now? Antonio kept talking and talking. "Hey, if I were to fall in love with you too, would you still be able to run away? I'm serious, I want something more."

Since Francis pretended to sleep, Antonio didn't expect an answer, but he still wanted one. A silent signal or maybe he would get his answer in a few days when Francis began to accept it. Antonio stood up and leaned over the other man. He saw closed eyes and a relaxed body. When he leaned closer, he felt the even breath of a sleeper against his cheek. Wait, didn't he just pretend? A panic rushed through Antonio as he looked down at his friend. Francis fell asleep. When did he fall asleep? Before Antonio could shake him awake and demand answers, Francis rolled onto his back with a stretch. One of his arms smacked Antonio in the face as he blinked open his eyes.

"Huh, you're still here?" Francis asked. Groaning, he rubbed at the sleep clinging to his eyes. Because of that, he missed the way Antonio's face fell as his sat up, his sheets pooling at his waist. Like nothing happened, he gathered a shirt from the closet to throw on. He knew Antonio watched him, but he needed to keep his face turned away, at least until he convinced his heart to stop acting so unusual and flip-floppy inside him. "The offer for breakfast still stands right?" he asked when he felt well enough to. When he turned toward Antonio though, his smile came out pasted on.

Without a word, Antonio nodded. He headed for the door and started muttering about the butter melting by the time he reached the kitchen. Once alone, Francis banged his head against the closet door, his face flushing deep red. "I didn't fall asleep immediately, idiot!"

xXx

Gilbert cleared his throat as they gathered in the living room two days later. "So…I've been thinking a lot lately and I made a decision. I needed to tell you guys first…" He shifted nervously, eyes darting this way and that until they settled on his friends. "I've decided I'm quitting school and moving back to Germany after this year ends."

"What?!" Antonio exclaimed. Francis cursed as he spilt hot coffee on his legs. After setting the mug aside, he focused on his slacks and dripping fingers. Antonio seemed to be the only one focused all on Gilbert. "You can't do that! Just because you fell in l-lo..v…e…" Antonio stuttered, his face flushing as he said the word that twisted them all up in knots.

Gilbert turned his head away as a flush rose on his face as well. "I-it's not just that! I said I really thought about it and I'm not running away from lo-" He cleared his throat. Crossing his arms, he turned back to the sets of eyes watching him. "I talked with my advisor yesterday and I'm about to fail out of two of my classes, I still don't know what I want to major in, I'm fucking homesick, and let's face it…I have nowhere else to go if I can't stay with you guys unless I go home." He just, he couldn't anymore. This was the smart decision. Logic said to go away. The things he wanted and the things he needed no long matched up, so he would do what he needed and only that.

Antonio bit back a sob. "Wait, we can still work this out. Just for those things? Why can't we still live together?" Gilbert shook his head and shrugged, as if to say Antonio knew. So why answer? Hugging his arms around himself to keep from falling apart, he backed up a step. If he loosened his grip, he'd shake himself to pieces, so Gilbert just shook his head like a broken doll. When Antonio jumped to his feet to follow, they engaged in this awkward dance out of the room. After a couple steps, Antonio glanced over his shoulder to see Francis still sitting on the couch, frozen. "Francis, make him stop. Tell him he doesn't have to go! Francis?" Antonio's pleas fell silent when the older man dropped his eyes.

While Antonio had his back turned, Gilbert made a dash for his room. Francis did nothing to stop it. "Gilbert!" Antonio yelled as he chased the younger man across the room. Gilbert slammed the door before Antonio got there and he jumped for the handle. Half a second too late, Antonio pulled against the lock. Eyes narrowed into slits of jade. On the other side of the door, Gilbert's eyes went wide. A heart beat passed and both dived for the other door.

Antonio actually screamed as he yanked against the lock with all his weight. Of course Gilbert got there first; from inside he had less distance to cover. Antonio kicked the door after he gave up pulling, then yelped at the sting in his toes. "You're being unreasonable. It's not a group discussion if you don't let anyone else talk! Gilbert Beilschmidt…I…I'm older than you and I order you to open this door right this instant!"

A snort of laughter answered him. "You've got to be kidding me! You think I'm going to listen because of that? Do you know me at all?!" Gilbert cackled. Antonio crossed his arms. This brat could be so stubborn sometimes. He was like a bad tempered cat who couldn't keep his claws in.

Antonio dropped his forehead against the door. "Yeah, I know everything about you. Haven't you noticed me always watching?" He whirled away as the bitter bite crept back into his voice. "If you ever paid me the same amount of attention, you'd realize there was still something here for you."

Gilbert's face burned with heat. What did Antonio mean? Had he really not been watching? What was it that he needed to see and why did Antonio use that tone—the sort that made Gilbert's heart squeeze. He sat on the floor with his knees pulled to his chest. Through the door, he heard Antonio's each little movement and then, him walking away. Gilbert wanted to drag Antonio into his room and bury himself in the man's warmth. He wanted to be comforted. He feared if he did that though, he'd scream 'love you' all over again and he would mean it for more than one person. Gilbert groaned and fell forward so he could beat his head against the floor. This is so wrong. I'm in love with both of them now! Is this even legal?

Antonio stalked back into the living room where Francis still sat. The only difference was his mouth now hung open a bit with his eyes riveted on Gilbert's door. Before Antonio could stopper his feelings, a rush of anger took over him. He grabbed the coffee cup from the table and without ceremony, dumped it over Francis. "I really hate you right now," he said with a tight-lipped grin on his face. Francis jumped, letting out a curse as his eyes finally jumped to Antonio. When they met eyes though, Francis shrunk back—part from fear, part from guilt. He hung his head, feeling he deserved Antonio's words all too much.

Seeing that acceptance and weariness from Francis enraged Antonio more. This shouldn't be happening. He rose his voice, turning shrill. "Why are you giving up? I thought we promised to be together forever!" he shouted loud enough for the entire house to hear. Panic started in him, even as his body went numb. With that, he ran out of the back door because if he stayed any longer, he would break down doors. No one could say he wouldn't do anything to keep them together, even if he had to hold them against their will. They fought before this, but Antonio always knew they would make up, or at least have the chance. But not this time. How could forgiveness be given from a country away? He felt like he already lost Gilbert and that thought hurt him the most.

Hours later, Gilbert creaked his door open again. Poking his head out, he glanced around to make sure Antonio hadn't come back in. Gilbert caught sight of him brutalizing the garden with tunnel vision, so he made his way down the hall. In the course of one day, the people he needed to avoid flip-flopped. Well, he never intended to avoid his friends for long anyway. Still, he hesitated outside of Francis' room before slipping inside. There he found the man sitting on his bed with the clothes from earlier in his lap. Although scrubbed clean, he stared down at them as if mourning their loss. Francis looked up, his eyes blinking without focus.

Gilbert cleared his throat. "Can we talk?" Francis' eyes finally sharpened, realizing no dream stood in front of him, but something real. He went stiff. Gilbert just kept waiting until he nodded his head though. The younger man fumbled with his hands, then stepped closer, stopping half a foot from the bed's edge. "Can we still be friends?"

Francis furrowed his brow. "Eh?" He didn't expect that. But after close inspection, he saw only seriousness on Gilbert's face. "Aren't you the one who wants to go an ocean away. I don't think I'm the one who has issues being friends here," he complained. Even if Francis did have issues with it, didn't Gilbert make problems in the first place?

Gilbert bit his lip and flushed a little. Francis realized he held his phone, clutched against his chest. "We can still call though. I really did think about this. It's not that I never want to see you guys again. If possible…I want us to stay important to each other…" It would be smart to pull away and get over his crush. Gilbert just didn't think he could. Some distance he needed, but he wanted to break down when he thought of cutting off from his friends forever. A clean break? No matter what, he couldn't end things that way.

Francis lifted a hand to drag through his hair. His crinkled shirt tumbled to his sheets and he remembered what happened earlier and Antonio's words. I hate you. Damn, he preferred being loved to that. He was Francis, player extraordinare. If Gilbert wanted to be his friend, he would switch off the perv-dar and be Gilbert's friend. He could turn relationships off like flipping off the stove's heat. How many years did he already put on a false smile to please the pretty faces? This would be a piece of cake, or pie, because he always thought those were easier to bake. Francis smiled and said one word. "Okay."

Gilbert breathed out a sigh of relief. He didn't realize how tense he got until he felt it whisk away. Still twisting his phone between his hands, he hesitated to speak. "You're not angry with me about…you know?" he asked, referring to Alissa. Francis understood without him having to elaborate. The older man groaned and dropped his face into a hand.

"You…really." Francis shook his head without lifting it. "I guess not. I mean, I'm seriously not happy with the how, but I'm not angry that you did it. I don't know. It's a little soon to be asking me that." He peeked out between his fingers to show off hard blue eyes and a frown. It was better than outright anger or rejection though. Gilbert didn't expect to be forgiven, certainly not this soon.

A shout from outside interrupted their conversion. "I hate tomatoes!" A clang followed, making both of them jump.

Gilbert winced and glanced toward the backyard. "…I'm going to fix that too." Francis raised his eyebrow. "Just, after it's safe. I saw what he was doing to those strawberries!" Gilbert added with a shudder. He wanted to have this conversation with Antonio, but he valued his neck un-strangled. Shaking his head, he motioned back out of Francis' room. "So, want me to teach you a trick to get coffee stains out. My uncle's family was like, super stingy so we wore our clothes until they fell off. Don't tell anyone, but I know how to sew a patch!" he exclaimed.

Francis laughed and let Gilbert lead him to the kitchen. You learned something new every day. Staying friends…yes. He could at least use that interesting tidbit later then. As Gilbert carried his supplies out of the room where they could have better light, the doorbell rang. "I'll get that," Francis called. Feeling far more chipper, he swung open the door with a smile. A taller man stood on the other side, pulling awkwardly at the scarf around his neck. He flashed a smile that put Antonio's to shame with it's cuteness.

"Hello. I am looking for a man, Gilbert," the stranger said in stilted English. That accent sounded foreign. German? It made enough sense that Francis just shrugged and turned over his shoulder.

"Gil, there's someone at the door for you!" Francis heard footsteps approach along with mumbling about salt and no good vinegar.

Gilbert looked up as he reached the door. Whoever waited beyond stood well over Francis' head and he saw light blonde hair before he got close enough to see out the door. A smile met Gilbert's eye, wide like a child's, but not reaching his violet eyes. Shaggy hair with a slight wave, a mauve scarf that looked out of place in this city, stocky legs, a barrel chest. Impossible. The box of baking soda and a beer bottle fell out of Gilbert's arms. His voice squeaked as his eyes went wide.

"Ivan?"

((Heeeey. Been a while, again. I'm so neglectful of my fanfics right now, but I'm going to try to finish up this story. Remember to review and let me know what you think! There's still quite a few chapters left, so don't try to guess the ending yet! :D))