Francis sat on the bed, staring at his open wallet. The photo he kept tucked away no longer filled the back-most space. He knew without a doubt who to blame, but just let out another sigh. In the first place, he pulled out his wallet to see Arthur's face again, maybe to understand something. But that man's didn't hide here anymore. The man himself left to study at Oxford, so for a long time now, the photo was Francis' only connection to him. He thought if he looked at the photo now, after so much changed, he might feel something different. So, what now? He closed his eyes and tried to conjure up the face.
Blonde hair, a little coarse, and those emerald eyes. Brighter than stones, brighter than any grass, brighter than anything that could ever exist in the world—that fantasy image popped into his mind. Hadn't they looked a shade darker though, less radioactive? Francis couldn't remember properly because in his mind, the time apart built an image of perfection. But eyes were just eyes. Francis realized that everything else in the face he conjured looked fuzzy. The details? He couldn't remember them at all. Everything blurred out beyond the edge of the eyes so that he found himself left with nothing but cheshire orbs and a smile.
His eyes fluttering open, Francis breathed out one short huff of laughter. What a joke. He couldn't even remember what Arthur looked like and he called himself in love? Unbidden, another face flashed in his mind. Dark hair and olive skin with eyes not quite as green, but sparkling with laughter—Antonio never blurred in his mind. A halo of sunshine did seem to back-light on very good days though. Francis closed his eyes again and gathered images in his mind. Antonio dancing in the rain with his white shirt pasted to him so it looked like cream. Gilbert in the kitchen, grinning like he couldn't be prouder of himself and his glorious potato pancakes. Smiling faces, and the way they cried, how Gilbert turned red so easily, and Antonio rarely did. These images that he saw so often remained as clear as if his friends stood right in front of him. Unlike that old ideal, they could never fade. Those two still stood beside him.
Francis fell back onto his bed with a moan. What the hell. How could he miss something so obvious all the way till now? Before he could think any more though, Antonio screamed 'dinner!' loud enough to echo even past his closed door. Unable to deny the call, he pushed off from his bed and headed into the brightness of the rest of the house. "Coming! Please tell me it's your world famous paella!"
xXx
Gilbert stopped at the edge of the courtyard, well away from the swell of college students. The blue sky held almost no clouds, a sight he now expected and appreciated. It may not look the brightest, but the blue just went on and on. He stepped toward it, his tennis squeaking on the wet grass.
"Hello Gilbert," a voice called from his right. Gilbert spun, nearly falling back when he saw Ivan step out from behind a tree. The taller man smiled from his spot yards away. He still wore his scarf, but loosely on his shoulders considering it wouldn't drop lower than sixty this early in the year. Gilbert pressed a hand to his jumping heart.
"Geez, are you stalking me now!?" he snapped when he got his breath back. Shifting, he made sure to keep the distance between them at more than an arm's length. Ivan maintained his soft smile and his distance. Though Gilbert shook his head, he managed to stay calm. This was campus. People watched them and Ivan didn't look angry. He always stayed a tolerable companion when not angry. "I don't get it. What do you want with me? You're the one who said never to show my face near you again!" Not that Gilbert planned to either way. He still remembered the bar they stood behind when he said he had enough, but after the initial fear of seeing Ivan again, Gilbert found himself calmer than he expected.
Ivan flashed his most winning smile, the sort that made his wide eyes sparkle. "You did a very cruel thing to me before. All this time, I've been alone without someone willing to stay by my side," he hummed with a shift one step closer. Gilbert tensed even as his face twisted in a proud grin. Why do you think I did it, bastard? "When I came across your blog, I felt very nostalgic and wanted to see you again. Can I not check in on my ex? See if he's happy?"
Gilbert narrowed his eyes. "Hello. I'm happy. Goodbye," he huffed and stood his ground although Ivan managed to close half the distance between them. A classmate waved and Gilbert lifted a hand in response just to look like others watched him. They probably waved to someone else because no one ever waved to him, but Ivan didn't know that. "Isn't that good enough for you?"
Ivan looked at Gilbert, his eyes turning just as cold as the ones from his memories. Shivering, Gilbert couldn't shake the feeling that Ivan picked his soul apart with that gaze. He sent up a silent prayer to a god he rarely cared for when Ivan turned his gaze away. The taller man looked up at the sky as it darkened, purple clouds making thin streaks near the horizon.
"Eat dinner with me." The words served as neither a question or request. Just a straight up demand. By now, Ivan stood two feet away, too close despite the fact he appeared motionless. He just pulled at the scarf that left beads of sweat gathering on his pale blue shirt collar. Gilbert turned away and crossed his arms as much to show his defiance as to secretly hug himself.
"No."
Ivan's eyes flashed. Before Gilbert could pull away, the man locked a vice-like grip on his upper arm. His face shone with too much smile to sit well in Gilbert's stomach. "Ah good! I knew you'd say yes. I've already picked a place that a hotel concierge was nice enough to suggest. Rumors are right. Americans are very friendly. Give you lots of free stuff, yes?"
"What? Hey! I didn't say yes!" Gilbert yelped. He stumbled after Ivan, unable to break the smiling man's grip. "Haven't I told you before that people are nice because you're scary!" He forced his feet into a near run to keep up with Ivan's quick pace. The guy never did respect other people's shorter legs. Gilbert tripped on a curb and only Ivan's hold kept him from face-planting. At that point, he gave up resisting. He would never win and fighting just made his arm ache. "Alright fine! I'll eat dinner with you so stop pulling. Damn it you, I don't walk that fast!"
Instantly, Ivan's pace slowed and his hand slid down to lock fingers with Gilbert's. The romantic gesture felt sickening, but Gilbert let it be, leaving Ivan glowing much like a giant child toting his favorite stuffed animal behind. And yet, it worked. His wide face and blunt nose suited the scarf always present on his person, whether inside or out. He owned a few others, but Gilbert considered the mauve one synonymous with Ivan. It and his deep eyes gave life to the flat features of his face. Gilbert shook his head when he realized how much he stared. Just in time too when Ivan stopped in front of an unfamiliar, small French bistro. "Dinner!" Without another word, Ivan dragged him inside.
As they sat, the younger man picked up his menu and Gilbert stared at the table like it came from space. "Oh look, they have veal. You like that!" Ivan pointed at the miniature description. The words broke Gilbert's trance and he lifted his eyes to look at the other man.
"…So you read my blog. That's how you figured out where I went." It never occurred to him that his favorite evening activity besides gaming might get him into trouble. He didn't even think he posted anything significant, just pictures, and not even that for months. How much did Ivan know? Did he post anything about his life? His relationships? Staring into Ivan's eyes didn't give him any hints.
"You posted pictures of your new house. It's very nice," Ivan revealed with a nod, as if acknowledging Gilbert's taste in homes. "All I needed to do was follow you home from school. I didn't expect you to share it with another man though. You are quite unexpected."
Gilbert groaned and dropped his face into his hands. "What the hell. You can't just stalk me like that!" He lifted his head to glare as best he could. The defiance came out weak though, knowing all too well what testing Ivan's patience could bring. "And it's two men. They're just my roommates, Ivan. I still don't know why this matters to you."
"Oh I see, I see. Roommates you say." His smile brightened to even more irritating levels. With sickening sunshine, Ivan switched the topic too fast for Gilbert to follow. "If you don't pick something to eat, I'll just order the veal for you."
"Whatever," Gilbert grumbled. "Doesn't matter to me." He didn't even care enough to open his menu. This whole situation felt like too much. He wanted to run out the door and never look back, but he couldn't get his bum to unstick from the chair. When the waitress came by, Ivan ordered their food and waters. Gilbert couldn't meet her eye and pretended she didn't exist. He didn't want someone to see him like this.
"Little Gil has been lying to me. You're not happy with your boyfriends at all." Ivan shook his head as if scolding a small child despite his younger age. Gilbert's head shot up, eyes widening then narrowing at Ivan. The man's soul-reading eyes sharpened, going violet around the edges.
Gilbert bristled. "I told you we aren't dating! What will it take for you to believe this?!" he snapped. Heads turned their way and Gilbert shrunk into his seat again. He cursed his pale skin five times over because he knew his face burned red. Ivan would read the embarrassment wrong even though Gilbert just didn't want to make a scene. He was angry and felt like he sat under a microscope and above that microscope, someone shone a spotlight. Rather than a restaurant, he sat in a theater meant to break him into pieces.
"But you have slept with them. Don't lie to me. I can tell everything about you, even now. You always were so…expressive with your body." Ivan's smile crept up an inch. Memories flashed in Gilbert's mind and he stomped down hard on them because those images weren't appropriate for dinner. Francis might say they belonged anywhere, but Gilbert liked to keep those things where they wouldn't show on his face in public. Ivan still got all the details he needed just from Gilbert's reaction though and he knew it. "Very kinky. I guess you needed two to fill the void left by me. I understand it better than you think," Ivan whispered. He reached across the table and Gilbert flinched away from his hand a second before Ivan could touch his. "I've never loved anyone like I love you."
Gilbert scraped back his chair from the square little two-person table. "Bastard! It's not like that! I told you, me and them…it's not like how things were with us!" He needed to clear up this misunderstanding fast. Misunderstanding? But Gilbert really did sleep with and love his best friends. The only difference, they never dated. He flushed a deeper shade of red and brought a hand up in front of his face, eyes darting away. Damn Ivan and his ability to read him so clearly. No one else did that to Gilbert, not even Francis and Antonio. Still, he didn't lie. The relationships with those two and Ivan didn't relate at all, so why, why did Ivan have to say love not loved? Gilbert's head spun. "I haven't even known them that long," he whispered.
Ivan's head tilted to the side. Even though the waitress brought them their water and Gilbert already downed his, Ivan's glass sat untouched. He was too busy boring his eyes into the squirming albino. "As someone who knows you better than your own family, why don't you tell me your troubles. You know I'll listen." And he would. He always did with kind smiles and understanding. When Ivan reached for his hand, Gilbert let him take it this time. His eyes seemed to speak of what they once were and for a second, Gilbert remembered how they acted fresh out of school when he still thought love was innocent. He lifted his eyes, trying to understand why. Why was Ivan really here? Why did he care what Gilbert did with his life? He tried to search for the trap, but he couldn't find it. This was just dinner. Gilbert bit his lip and deflated. He couldn't talk to anyone else, so, before he could stop himself, words came spilling out.
"The thing is, I'm the only one in love. Those guys met each other a long time before. And me, I've just gone and changed everything…" he started. All through dinner he talked. He really did have it rough if he resorted to talking with Ivan, but he couldn't very well stop once he started. Gilbert explained how long Antonio and Francis knew each other and how many things they shared in common. They had the garden and the kitchen, one of which Gilbert wasn't even allowed in, the other on rare occasions. What did he share with them? When Ivan asked, he drew a blank. Why? Because he would always be the odd one out. Maybe he kept talking like this because he wanted someone to tell him he got this wrong and a relationship with them could work. Or did he do this so Ivan would prove him right? By the time Gilbert ran out of things to say, he decided he did that exactly.
After scraping the last of the sauce from his plate, he realized only now that he didn't taste his food. His fork moved on automatic. Perhaps he got spoiled on home cooking so that everything else passed though his mind in a three word description of 'not good enough,' but he didn't notice that until now. Strange. Gilbert startled when he realized his zoned out state, eyes refocusing all at once. The sight of Ivan shocked him even more. Damn, he forgot just who he talked with. "…Er, sorry for troubling you with the boring details of my life," Gilbert muttered as he ruffled his hair. Why did he even feel embarrassed about this?
Ivan pushed back his chair, the check already in hand. When did that happen? He grabbed Gilbert's arm and pulled him up after. Gilbert stuttered, too surprised to make a proper reaction. "I wonder if you realize it…the meaning of the things you just told me." Gilbert's blank stare told him everything he needed to know. He smiled and continued on. "Those two are already in love with each other. Probably for a long time too, but they didn't tell you." His smile widened. "On purpose."
Gilbert gasped, but he couldn't do more than that even as Ivan leaned close to him, his wide face impossibly near, breath ghosting over Gilbert's lips. "Little bunny, you're just the extra stuck tagging along. You and I both know that sharing isn't possible. They don't want you, but I realized you are my happiness. You don't know how much I've missed you, so if you come back, I'll never hurt you like that again. I'm better! It'll be like in the beginning. I promise…if you'll love me once more. Gilbert, ditch those two already. Be mine!"
In a heart's beat, he closed the distance between them and stole a kiss, tender and possessive at the same time. It tasted like their first, stolen in an empty classroom so long ago. Ivan pulled back before Gilbert could react. It took him seconds more to gather his wits again and when he did, he burned bright with anger and embarrassment. "You're wrong! You're definitely wrong about them a-and I'll prove it to you!"
Ivan's smile turned cold and calculating. "Oh? How can you prove something like that? Even if you ask them, how will you know it's the truth? The fact is, you'll never really know what they think about you."
"Yeah? Like I'll never really know what you think about me?!" Gilbert snapped. His vision tunneled so that he saw only Ivan in front of him. Nothing else existed, just his emotions and their target. Every time he fought, he got like this. The walls closed in and they might have narrowed forever if not for the sudden nearing of violet eyes.
Ivan hit him with a whisper, loud and sharp in the silence of his head. "I love you." The world crashed back in again—the hushed silence, the murmurs, the clatters. Eyes stared at them, so many eyes. Gilbert's face burned even redder. And Ivan, he just stood there while Gilbert's lips tingled from the aftermath of their kiss. It all felt too intense, so he did the only thing he knew how to do. Gilbert spun on his heel and ran. Out he ran into the darkening evening and the busy streets and ocean-smoggy air with the noise and the people and the shadows he could hide himself in.
He couldn't think about anything but what Ivan said. Not even the kiss hit him when it would drive him crazy any other time. But Francis and Antonio purposely pushing him out? No, that couldn't be so. Gilbert barely dodged a car when he raced across the street, feeling dizzy and sick. Those two didn't lie to him. They already shared so much together that the unfairness hurt, maybe even everything a great couple needed. Gilbert would notice though. He would notice if they became a couple or hated him to that kind of degree. Ivan got this all wrong because even though he was oblivious and stupid, he did know what they thought of him.
As Gilbert turned onto a familiar street, he let himself pause to catch his breath. The panic in his mind cooled a little. Ivan really got this wrong. For all that Gilbert felt pushed aside and lonely, not even a hint of it was on purpose. Only he deserved the blame for never once saying a thing. He pushed them away first. He was the one who said no to love.
And why did I? If it put him into this kind of panic, why did he still try to hold back? Gilbert thought he went into that conversation looking for confirmation that their little trio wouldn't work. Hearing Ivan agree with him though made him realize just how much he hated the idea. None of them knew if it would work or not because they hadn't even freaking tried. What should I do? I really want to see them, Gilbert thought as he turned toward home. He didn't just want to see them, but maybe he would start there.
xXx
Francis snorted softly as he shifted against the cotton sheets. Still somewhere in that pleasant realm between wake and sleep, he intended to just roll over and drift off again before morning came. Something pushed back against him though and the feeling dragged him a little more out of his sleep. "Move over, Toni," he mumbled with a half-hearted swat at the swell next to him. Francis remembered he had a guest in his bed at least. Antonio knocked on his door not long after dinner, asking to sleep together again. Even though they didn't feel right touching each other, they craved closeness more than ever. It felt too lonely to sleep alone. When Antonio didn't answer him, verbally or physically, Francis hummed in confusion. He opened his eyes and immediately jumped wide awake, his eyes bugging out at the black cloth pressed against his face.
One panda leg draped over his face and the butt squashed right into his nose. "Panda butt?!" he yelped, the words muffled against the fabric. He turned his head to get away from the horror in front of him. Five seconds later, his heart skipped a beat when it hit him that there was a panda in his bed. "Gilbert?" Stuffed in the gap between him and Antonio lay the other man's curled up form. He used his panda as a pillow and lay on top of the sheets. In day clothes, he looked like he just fell into the wrong bed between two men already sleeping cuddled up together. Francis rolled and dropped an arm over him on the way to shake Antonio's shoulder.
"We have an unexpected guest in bed," Francis smiled, tight-lipped and more confused than happy. Never the lightest sleeper, Antonio emitted a series of whines before he woke. Gilbert on the other hand didn't move. Antonio blinked, noticing he couldn't feel his left arm. When he looked down, he saw why. Pale arms wrapped around his with python strength and Gilbert's cheek warmed his shoulder. He glanced over to see Francis' flabbergasted expression.
"Did he just crawl here in the middle of the night?" Antonio asked. He tried to shake his arm, but Gilbert gripped it good. This earned a newfound pity for the younger man's stuffed animals if they went through this every night. The size of the bed made it cramped, but also warm and dream-like. Any other time, they might welcome it, but instead, the two shared a look of distress. "Wake up," Antonio cooed while Francis shook his shoulder. "Why are you sleeping with us, Gilbo?" Gilbert barely shifted enough to pull his panda closer and away from Francis' face.
The shifting left Gilbert's side cold and he tossed a bit in his sleep, distress marring his features. "Toni…" he groaned as he pulled himself closer to Antonio and twisted at the same time so his back pressed fully against Francis again. The minor amount of kneeing that occurred left the two gasping and giving up. Antonio used his free hand to drag fingers through Gilbert's hair.
"I'm here. I'm right by you if you'll wake up," he continued as Gilbert squeezed his arm past the point of pain. He winced and tried to pull his hands off, but Gilbert only held on tighter. Giving up on that idea, Francis yanked Gilbert straight up into the air. The desperate shifting stopped as Francis settled the younger man into his lap, holding him under the armpits. Antonio amended his pleas. "We're here."
The sudden shift left Gilbert blinking his eyes open without feeling awake at all. Where? Who held him? He tensed before the familiar scent of lavender shampoo washed over him. "Francis?" He turned his head to see the blonde man sigh. A turn to the left showed him Antonio smiling before he fell down with arms around Gilbert's waist and head in his lap. The surroundings finally focused enough for him to recognize the fancy room stuffed into a too small space. "Why am I here?"
Francis shook his head as he loosened his grip on Gilbert. The younger man breathed out a large sigh of tension and melted against him very much like a cat shaping itself to the surface it lay on. Gilbert felt like he might pool to the bed if not for Francis' arms still around him. "I was hoping you could tell us that. You know it's very unexpected to crawl into someone else's bed and make yourself at home." Especially Gilbert, the one who said he hated cuddling and almost always left to sleep alone, expect for when he didn't. And on those nights when they knew he felt lonely and wouldn't say it, he clung tightly to his friends like this.
The previous day came flooding back to Gilbert and he twisted suddenly to throw his arms around Francis. "I don't want to leave you guys! Please!" he cried as he buried his face in the fresh cotton of Francis' shirt. "I don't wanna go." Francis wrapped his arms around Gilbert without pause. Antonio had to move or else get squished and instead sat behind Gilbert, arms still around his waist.
"No one's making you go away," Francis sighed.
"Yeah! We don't want you go either!" Antonio exclaimed. He pressed a kiss to Gilbert's shoulder without thinking and the younger man surprised them with a gasp. They both felt him shiver and Antonio tilted his head at Gilbert. He lifted a hand to feel his neck, then his cheek since his forehead still lay against Francis' collar. Antonio felt the heat there and yet Gilbert shivered as if plagued by chills. "Are you alright? Were you out all night again? You just disappeared and we went to sleep before you came home." Had it rained or something? Antonio pressed his cool hand against Gilbert's cheek and felt him lean into the touch.
"I had dinner with Ivan," Gilbert muttered. He felt relaxed with his friends close by, but the fire from last night still burned in him. Even huddled this close, it wasn't enough. He feared he could never get close enough to them to ease this anxiety. He wanted to crawl into their skins or for them to melt into him. Either way. He felt the other two tense and Antonio exclaim loudly, one hand digging into Gilbert's hip. It still wasn't enough. "He said we three would never work and I hated it! Even though I wanted him to say that so I'd give up, I didn't give up at all. I just got angry and then…then…" Gilbert pulled back so he could look at both of them. A sniffle broke though and he cursed himself as he brushed back the rising tears. "He said you two are in love and purposely pushed me out." He didn't want to believe it, but he couldn't stop himself from voicing the worry.
Francis whined in distress. Since he faced Gilbert, he got a full view of his hurt-filled expression. "Love? Since when?" His hands moved to span Gilbert's back, warm and so very present. "Hey, what are you trusting that guy's words for? Don't you know us better than that?"
"Well love…that's a bit…" Antonio started, crushing Francis' words. Gilbert whirled around at his hesitant tone and found an unusual red tint on the other's cheeks. Antonio ducked his head. "Well there might be love, but half of it is for you, Gil!" He hugged Gilbert tight again, leaving hot breath tickling his neck. As their gazes met, Gilbert felt his eyes widen. Those green orbs looked at him with so much heat and possession that he couldn't stop a shiver from traveling all the way down to his toes.
Francis also found himself captured by Antonio's eyes. Half of his love. The words left his lungs stuttering even if his brain never noticed the lack of air. Half of Antonio's love belonged to Gilbert and half…half belonged to him? A thrill shot up Francis' spine, leaving him tingling all over. "H-hey…it's not even six in the morning. What's with the love confessions?" He licked his lips, finding it hard to speak through the dryness he found there. Even though he spoke in a whisper, his words sounded impossibly loud. Antonio didn't stop either even with two stares leveled at him. He pried Gilbert away so the three could sit in a tight circle, all facing each other. Their knees bumped together.
"Yeah, that's exactly what's going on." Antonio brushed his fingers along Francis' cheek, but his eyes stayed locked onto Gilbert who looked like his soul departed his body. "Ever since Gilbert said he loved Francis, I think I've been falling in love and I know I have room in my heart for two. That bastard ex is wrong! Three people can love each other because I think we already do and never realized. That…that's the only thing he was right about." Antonio finally shifted his eyes to take them both in. "I want both of you to be mine. Are you alright with that?"
After a second more, Francis lifted his hand to capture Antonio's. A lump rose in his throat and he fought to push it down again. Did this feeling inside him really count as love? So much happened recently and it left him confused. Antonio sounded so sure though and Francis did know one thing. He didn't want to say good bye to his friends. Ever. "Yeah, I want that." He kept hold of Antonio's hand as he reached for Gilbert's. One eyebrow quirked up in silent question to the last of them.
Gilbert looked down at his hands, each held tightly. He lifted them to inspect the way those hands fit over his. His own fingers were thin, but rough. Not as rough as Antonio's whose tanned skin contrasted with his own paleness. Though their hands weren't much different in size, Antonio's felt warm and covered his well. Francis though, had a big hand, soft as one would expect from a rich artist. The hairs on the back of his knuckles tickled Gilbert, sending a shiver of excitement down his spine. He really did have delicate fingers and Gilbert remembered how they felt against him, bringing him into a haze of passion he never feared losing himself to. Pulling their hands closer, he pressed a kiss to both knuckles.
"Okay. But only if you're serious. No more playboy, no more lovers on the side." Giving in at last, he fell forward into his friends' waiting arms. He shouldn't trust them so much. These people used the word 'love' like hello or goodbye. Did they even know what it meant? Gilbert felt too tired and afraid and too in love not to give in though. He wanted this. He wanted them. They did have something special and maybe they always did. If love constituted missing someone when they walked away, then each of them had felt it for a long time now, even if it came out different from anything they called love before.
Two hums rung out together in affirmation, then Francis nodded.
"Deal."