"No? Sí, sí!" Antonio whined into his phone. Gilbert, who just finished trekking back from his car with a second stack of books, paused with an eyebrow quirked. "That's a great idea! Yeah, I'll take a pic and show you later. No lie, he's the fattest thing ever. Aw, thanks. Love ya and talk later, Mimi." Antonio hung up and tilted his head to smile at Gilbert. "Just telling my cuz' about your bird. He is muy guapo."
Gilbert twitched, but since he didn't understand what Antonio said, he didn't quite take offense. Instead he just frowned. "You keep saying you speak Spanish, but I've only heard you say three words now. You say yes, but not even no?" Gilbert asked with a roll of his eyes. No one else had his skill with languages after all. "But you're still talking with your family? That's good."
Antonio nodded with his eyes twinkling. "No in Spanish is no," he chuckled which knocked Gilbert back. Okay, he looked a little stupid now, but how was he supposed to know? Antonio grinned his brightest—and what Gilbert learned to be most devilish—grin before he dropped into Spanish. "I'm going to love the cute and stupid expression you make when you have no idea what I'm saying."
Gilbert blinked his eyes slowly. "Okay…what? No seriously, what the hell did you say?!" Antonio burst into laughter, falling onto his back as tears gathered in his eyes. Gilbert growled and threw a pillow at him. "I hate you!" Antonio just kept laughing as Gilbert gathered his books from the floor again. "Damn it, it's your fault if can't get any work done!" He shook his head and stalked away.
Antonio really didn't think he could be blamed for that, but he stayed quiet. He didn't mind taking a little blame here and there if it didn't matter in the long run. But really, if Gilbert's work ethic failed, the fault lay in him. "Have fun studying!" He waved as the other man disappeared into his room and left Antonio to his boredom again. The younger man unfortunately had too much work to be bored.
Hours later, ringing jerked Gilbert out of the coma he'd fallen into. He jabbed the decline button on his phone with a curse. Ivan kept bothering him and Gilbert needed to use his time for better things. Like burying his face in a math textbook. He lay in a nest of homework and study material that left him cursing under his breath, particularly about the inventor of finals. Stress made him want to scream and finals still lay a week away. His make-up homework didn't help either. He couldn't work on the easy things for long due to his own personality so he switched between it and studying at intervals. It kept him productive, but not sane.
He just started to review chapter twelve's information when his phone went off again, this time with a message. Despite his frustration, Gilbert couldn't help but click it open. 'I'm sorry. I miss being loved. Isn't there anything I can do to make you feel for me again?' Anger and pity warred in Gilbert. Lines like this made him stay in the first place, but he couldn't stand it anymore. For a week, Ivan begged Gilbert to take him back, trying to prove that they had something more real than he did with Francis and Antonio. It made him twice as angry now that things went so well. "Damn it. No more!"
Gilbert jammed his finger at redial after turning his music up louder so no one could overhear him and maybe a little because he knew Ivan hated music with a beat. "You answered!" Ivan exclaimed half-way through the second ring, all excitement in a child's voice. It reminded Gilbert of the other man's youth. No matter how cute Ivan made his voice though, it wouldn't waver Gilbert's determination.
"Nothing you say will change the fact that we're over, Ivan! You don't deserve love and even if you did, it won't come from me," he snapped. Breathing in deep, he tired not to shriek. He wouldn't give Ivan a chance to respond though. "I am in a relationship and I am happy for once in my stinking life. You were wrong about them. This is real love, good love. What we had wasn't love so get over it and just die already, bastard!"
"Wait…p-please don't be happy with someone else. I won't forgive-" Gilbert hung up before Ivan could finish. Clear as could be this time, he told Ivan that they were over, again. This time, he just had the sense to do it over the phone. He wouldn't let Ivan plead or scare him into one more day because he did have somewhere else to go. Even though he blocked the number yet again, he knew Ivan would just get another phone and repeat like he did for the past week. It was why he had to confront him for once. Blocking numbers wasn't doing shit.
Gilbert groaned and buried his face in a pillow. "Just get a hint already!"
He lay like that for minutes, feeling angry and frustrated. A knock sounded on the door, barely rising above the techno beat playing from his speakers. "Gil, want to watch a movie?" Antonio asked. Gilbert ground his teeth together even harder than before as a growl rose in him. He chucked his pencil at the wall hard enough to leave a black mark behind. "…I'll take that as a no. Francis is living at the library too. I'm so bored!" His whine fell on deaf ears.
Antonio sighed and stalked off to watch The Princess Bride by himself after a minute without response. He hated being the only one not in school. Those two shut themselves in too much, though Francis did it worse. Antonio expected Gilbert would show up with his homework and watch the movie with him at some point. They all loved it no matter how many times they watched the film. Francis even loaned him the book at one point, but now that guy came home for little more than sleep and sometimes dinner. He started to bite his nails too, something they only saw when big tests neared. Those two handled stress like pros—they procrastinated or played around when they should be studying, then ran themselves into the ground near the due date. They should be more like Antonio in his school days, but then, he didn't care if he failed out. He preferred the garden in the end.
As predicted, Gilbert brought his homework into the living room and settled with a blanket and coffee to work, letting the movie play as background noise. He went slower, but they both felt better in the end. They made a quick, greasy dinner and were half way through Gladiator when Gilbert started to nod off against Antonio's shoulder. He muttered something about needing to work more, but Antonio just kissed his forehead and tucked the blanket around tighter. "It's okay, you've already worked so hard," he whispered back. Antonio felt proud of Gilbert's newfound responsibility. He put the movie on mute and fell asleep himself after ten minutes.
To make up for not being around as much, they almost always slept together. Francis' bed gave them enough room for it and they didn't feel the need to do much. Tiredness made them want to cuddle and rest. They figured out their sleep positions quick too. Antonio rose earliest so he needed to be on the side and Gilbert needed to be in the middle. Whenever on the side, he tossed and kicked and stole the covers. When in a tight warm space, he seemed to sense he couldn't move and didn't try. He didn't say it, but he enjoyed being squished between two hugs anyway. Francis couldn't care less as long as he had someone to spoon up against.
It was a couple days later in the middle of the night when Gilbert's phone rang again after its period of silence. Antonio fumbled along the table next to him, trying to find the right phone. His was on the floor and Francis slept with his under the pillow so that left Gilbert's. Feeling no hesitation to read other people's messages, he clicked the note open. The unknown number sent only one line of text.
'You steal my happiness and I will steal yours.'
Below it sat a picture. Antonio stared at it, a cold rushing through him as his breath stopped. A second later, his cold turned to a blazing heat of anger. The image showed fingers holding up a printed photo and although grainy, Antonio saw enough of it to understand. A pale blur lay against dark pavement tinged red with blood and beside the human shaped blur, a metal object lay—undoubtedly a tire iron. In an instant he knew who sent the message and where the photo came from. He actually took a photo. Fully awake now, Antonio sat up and called the number back as his bed-mates continued to sleep. He didn't give Ivan a chance to speak as soon as he heard the dial tone stop.
"If you call Gilbert again, I will rip out your liver and feed it to you, kay?" he snapped before hanging up. Antonio scowled at the phone. Why didn't Gilbert say that freak was threatening him? He didn't act afraid or bothered, but Gilbert hid things better than most. He shouldn't be hiding anymore though. The whole situation made Antonio so angry he couldn't sleep. That image haunted his mind and he couldn't un-see it no matter how hard he tried.
Gilbert shifted and bunched a hand in Antonio's shorts. "What waz tha?" He sounded half awake at best. A little bit of the tension eased out of Antonio. He slid down into the covers again to pet Gilbert's hair. The gesture quieted the white-haired man, but Antonio did it to soothe himself more. He needed to touch and make sure Gilbert was still there and whole and well.
"It was nothing. Go back to sleep," Antonio murmured. He lay on his back, still staring at the ceiling, unable to listen to his own advice. Gilbert buried his head against Antonio's shoulder though and seconds later, his breath evened with sleep. The fan blades turned in a slow circle, casting them all in intervals of light and shadow.
xXx
Gilbert checked his phone for the fifth time that minute. "Where the hell is he? I'm fuckin' hungry already!" he grumbled. The setting sun and semi-cool air made him antsy. Antonio just shrugged from where he sat in the passenger seat. Gilbert himself couldn't stay still long enough to sit and paced in the mostly empty parking lot. Francis needed to go buy cigarettes on the way to dinner though, so here they waited by the car.
Antonio fiddled with the radio and eyed Gilbert through the open door. "It's only been five minutes and all you do is eat," he complained. Patience was one thing. Listening to Gilbert prattle on for an entire day was another. He might as well be pregnant or something with how much he ate, or it could just be relief. Antonio propped his chin up to stare at Gilbert. Well, he could daydream anyway.
Gilbert leaned over the roof of the car, pouting, before switching his tone with a careless ease that left Antonio sighing. "I really can't get over the Mexican restaurants here. They're like everywhere. You know, first time we went to a Mexican place, I about fainted to see you in shorts and flip-flops. I thought we'd get thrown out, but it wasn't a nice place at all. What's up with that? I don't even know what American food is anymore. I'm beginning to think it's Mexican. Hey, why do you like it so much?" Gilbert rambled. He felt so bored out of his mind that he considered leaving Francis behind. And hungry. No one could forget how hungry he was. "Did I ever tell you about the time I…"
Antonio shifted as Gilbert trailed off. His eyes still closed, he patted the other's leg. "Why'd you stop? I like this story," he murmured. He didn't really care, but just because he barely listened didn't mean Gilbert should stop talking. He just wanted to take his noonday nap because this guy's constant pestering made him miss it. After Gilbert finished his last final that morning, no stress and a week of sleep deprivation turned him giddy. Francis on the other hand acted like a zombie. Maybe he got lost in the store, staring blankly at cigarette brands. Gilbert didn't respond and Antonio blinked his eyes open. "You okay?" He caught sight of Francis' shiny black shoes way off to the left and he stared at them, wondering why he stood over there.
A hoarse, whispered prayer above Antonio twisted everything into focus, twisted in a gutting, horrible way. He turned his head to the driver's side window where the scene unfolded. Francis stood in the glare of a streetlamp, looking pale under the blue-white glow. A thick arm wrapped around his neck and another twisted his elbow. He stumbled forward and what they already guessed became clear in the light's glow. Ivan smiled at the car as he walked closer to it, pushing Francis in front of him. "I see this one's a smoker. Someone should tell him it's bad for your lungs." Francis scrabbled at the arm that held him immobile, not choking, but close enough to feel the threat of it.
"I'm sorry. He appeared out of nowhere," Francis whispered, his blue eyes wide with fear and apology. Although they looked wet, he didn't cry. He wanted to resist, but he couldn't against this force. Even before he lost control, Ivan just dodged the punch he threw, smiling all the while. It left Francis burning with shame. He got caught and now this bastard could use him like bait. Francis met Gilbert's eyes across the distance that still separated them. "Just run away already-ah!" His words choked off as Ivan tightened the hold around his neck.
"Leave him the fuck alone!" Gilbert yelled. Antonio didn't have time to grab hold of him before the younger male started running, bounding across the parking lot with fury. Antonio scrambled out after him, yelling for him to wait. Bad, very bad. Someone needed to stop this. Why didn't he grab his phone? For one second, Antonio looked back to the car. His old flip phone lay on the seat. He stumbled back, then shook his head. No time for that. His hesitation cost him the ground he gained on Gilbert and he forced his legs faster. Gilbert was always faster though. That man didn't pause, didn't lessen his pace at all as he reached Ivan. At the last second, Ivan pushed Francis out of the way. Gilbert crashed his fist into Ivan's face.
"If you want to hurt me, then hurt me. Just leave them alone!" Gilbert cried. In the same motion, he grabbed Francis' arm as he reeled. Gilbert pushed the older man behind him, ready to defend against the attack he knew would come, but that he could take. Ivan's eyes looked crazed and he recognized the violence there. Something changed in the past week and it left Gilbert weak at the knees. Where did the pleading, love-sick man go? How could he always come and go so fast?
As Antonio screeched at them from the distance, Ivan smiled, just a brief flash of teeth. "Who said I came here to hurt you? I gave you a chance to take me back, but you just flung it in my face! I wanted you! I loved you with all my heart!" Ivan exclaimed. The passion twisted his face, darkening his eyes. In lights like this, they always looked more purple than blue. He dived forward and before Gilbert could blink, a hand closed around his throat. Ivan lifted him off the ground. "If I can't have you, then no one can!" He tossed Gilbert like a rag doll and he crumpled to the asphalt. "Now sit there and watch like a good bunny as I break your happiness." Ivan spared him only a last glance before he turned his attention to Francis and Antonio.
"What kind of sick logic is that?!" Francis dropped down next to Gilbert. He felt dizzy still and he only wanted to get away. When he saw Gilbert hit the ground though, he dived straight for him. The way he didn't move made Francis' heart pound with a different fear. He wrapped arms around the other man and sighed with relief when he blinked his eyes open again. Francis turned over his shoulder to glare at Ivan even as his body shook. "He's not yours and hurting us won't change that!"
Ivan laughed. "How cute! You're possessive even though you can't fight for him." He noted the way Francis' arms squeezed tighter around Gilbert. Really, it was tragically cute. Where did that other one go though? He had a silly voice so Ivan didn't expect much. A frown painted his face when he didn't see him hiding with the other two cowards. Gilbert didn't used to be a coward. What a disappointment that these people changed him. Ivan blinked at footsteps from his right.
"I'm definitely going to rip your liver out!" Antonio howled. He swung a piece of broken wood right at Ivan's face. It splintered on contact and the feeling of wood breaking skin sent a rush of joy through him. He couldn't rip this guy's heart out since he didn't have one. But a liver…a liver would do. He grabbed hold of Ivan and slammed him backwards into a car. "You have officially pissed me off!"
Ivan let out a laugh as he hit the car. That's right, this one threatened him with that. "Ooh wow, you have some strength. You might hit harder than Gilbert. How unexpected," he chuckled. His English pronunciation made the words sound silly, but they got to Antonio anyway. His grip tightened and Ivan lifted his hands to grasp the offending appendages. Even with Antonio's muscles straining, his large hands pried them off easily. Blood tinged his toothy smile from the combination of Antonio and Gilbert's attacks. He didn't look hurt at all though. He looked insane. "Aren't you going to hit me again?"
Antonio's vision tunneled. "I'm going to kill you!" He fought against the hands holding him. For a good ten seconds, they matched off against each other. Then Ivan snapped his wrists back and he cried out. Ivan kneed him in the gut, then kicked him away. Antonio wouldn't go down though. He glared up at Ivan through the pain on his face. Every step toward Francis and Gilbert he took, Antonio matched, always keeping himself in between. Ivan didn't really intend to deal with those two now, but playing with the brunette guy amused him. How far would he go to protect people so unworthy of it?
Gilbert roused past the pain in his head. He heard yelling and focused on it. Antonio dodged a fist; Ivan ignored a kick. Gilbert's eyes went wide. "No! What are you doing?!" He surged forward and nearly got to his feet before arms pulled him back again. "Let go of me! I've got to help!" Blood rushed to Gilbert's head and the dizziness added to his panic. He didn't care if he got hurt. He had to protect them, had to. A sob shook him to his toes. He wouldn't be able to sleep again if he saw someone else broken like he had been. Not Antonio. Please god, not him. Gilbert elbowed Francis and struggled harder against his arms.
"No!" Francis choked out. He squeezed his eyes shut as Gilbert bit his arm. He wouldn't let go though. I'm sorry. Forgive me, but this is the only way I can protect you. Francis curled around Gilbert, holding him down. He raised his eyes to Antonio, feeling the same pain and fear that Gilbert did. "Stop it, Toni!" Francis pleaded. Tears burned in his eyes and he didn't care when they spilled over. He could only protect one of them. Why was he such a pathetic man? Ivan knocked Antonio back and he skidded onto his knees a foot in front of Francis and Gilbert.
The swelling in Antonio's right eye made it hard to see. Sweat—he hoped it was sweat—blurred things worse. He wiped the burning liquid away and lifted his eyes with another glare. Even now he had no intentions of backing down. Ivan approached in slow steps. "Well well, is this all you have? Even though there's three of you, you're still too weak to take me on." His eyes focused on Gilbert once again. This was all for him, all because of him. "Remember, this is your fault." He grabbed Antonio's collar and drew back his fist.
A hand caught his punch. "What?" Ivan blinked. He didn't have long to ponder though. A force knocked him back hard enough to let go of his prey and stumble. Impossible. Who?
"Pick on someone your own size," a young voice snarled. The blonde boy with glasses behind the voice lowered his fist. He stood inches shorter than Ivan and a cowlick curled up from his hair. He didn't match his words at all. The eyes that focused on Ivan through those glasses looked tougher than his teenaged image though. In his other hand he held an open cellphone. "I called the cops. Now, I can beat you up or you can scram. Up to you." Tough words coming from a kid. Ivan swung his fist.
"This is none of your business, brat. Didn't mummy say not to pick fights!" Once again, the boy caught his punch.
"Gotcha!" He dropped the phone and fists met in the middle as they grappled like wrestlers. Neither could gain ground and neither would give up. Now that the t-shirt the boy wore stretched, they saw the muscles of a jock bulging underneath it. The two stood there deadlocked until a siren wailed nearby. Ivan's eyes widened. He never met anyone who could hold their ground against him. Not even one hint of fear shone in those sky blue eyes, nor anger, nor pleasure-pain. There was something about this one, something so very different.
"Why?" Ivan gasped. "Why fight for someone you don't know?"
The kid scoffed. He disengaged and stood with his hands on his hips, looking as proud of himself as a person could. Not cocky or arrogant, just proud. "Because everyone needs a hero!" Ivan stood there, taken so far aback by the words that he couldn't move. What was this feeling coursing through him? It felt almost like…awe. This kid was everything he wasn't. A hero? He couldn't even laugh at the statement. The boy knocked him back with a punch. Ivan's eyes sharpened into daggers again.
"What makes you so sure I'm the villain!" he snapped. They hurt him first. They always hurt him first so it was righteous revenge. "Maybe you're my villain!" The kid looked shaken, but after a second of thought, he shrugged it off like the thoughts got too complicated to bother with.
"I'm fine with that."
Sirens screeched closer. Ivan cursed and glanced back at the trio, then at the kid again. A second later, he tore off out of the parking lot. Minutes passed and the siren passed them by, going silent. The kid ruffled his hair and let out a chuckle. "Actually, I lied. I didn't call the cops because I forgot to charge my phone. That was a real lucky break, eh?" He threw back his head and laughed, loud and obnoxious. "Well you guys don't look too bad so it's good I don't have to call an ambulance. I'm Alfred, by the way," he said as he offered a hand to the trio who sat and stared with bewildered eyes. Finally, Antonio took his hand and shook it awkwardly before he let Alfred pull him to his feet. Just what exactly was up with this kid?
The other two got to their feet and looked between each other. Alfred bent down to collect an armful of potato chips, twinkies, and other assorted junk food that he dropped when rushing to their aid. He'd been leaving the store before a video game binge when he heard the commotion and he really hoped his cookies didn't get damaged. It took all his money to buy them. "Uh…thanks…" Francis murmured.
Gilbert held his head and felt the lump that came from hitting the ground. "Did you call yourself a hero?" Who the fuck did that? His life was turning more ridiculous than the over-blown American movies that he loved and insulted at the same time.
Alfred shrugged. "Well yeah. My dad's a cop and he's so cool. I'm gonna be just like him!" The three continued to give him strange looks, but he kept talking as if he didn't see them. "But you three would make good heroes too! I saw the way you protected each other." He nodded toward Antonio with appreciation. "That's real cool. Doesn't helping others just give you this rush, ya know? Like you have a reason to be proud of yourself? We need all need a reason to fight after all." For a second, his eyes went dull, then he hefted up his bounty of junk food and grinned even wider than Antonio's patented smile. "Well, I guess I'm off. If you ever need a hero again, you can ask for my dad. It's Jones, guys!"
Off he went and the three traded looks between each others. "Yep…that was weird." Francis nodded his head with vigor. Now that the shock started to wear off, he found himself shaking. He grabbed hold of Antonio and Gilbert and squished them in a tight hug. "Thank god you're both okay!" They clung to each other and would have sunk to the ground again, but Gilbert pushed them toward the car. Just because Ivan left didn't mean they should stand outside all night and tempt fate.
Once inside, they fell into a heap on the back seat. They just needed to touch each other. Francis pulled up Antonio's shirt to check him for bruises and Antonio thumbed over the smudge of red in Gilbert's hair. They all winced from this and that, but somehow they got out of the mess better than expected. Bumped, bruised, scared, but not hurt. That didn't stop them from shaking though as they clung together. "Thank you!" Gilbert gasped. For fighting for him, for not dying, for being heroes. That kid may have been the flashy hero, but these two did so much more for him. He wiped a hand against the stupid tears that leaked out. "Next time, let me be your hero though."
As they calmed down, they looked out at the night and the false stars of Los Angeles' million buildings all twinkling their white and gold lights. Vaguely, they wondered if Alfred really existed. He seemed too unbelievable after the adrenaline settled. Even five minutes later, it felt like a dream from ten years ago. The world looked too beautiful from the cramped car that smelled of cigarettes. After all, this was the city of angels. In the dark of night, things happened. The truth didn't matter.
Francis dragged a hand along Gilbert's cheek. "I think you'd make one hell of a hero."