Lovino stared at his phone as the timer ticked down. Why would this stupid game ask him for anti-Galileo? He's not the important one, God damn it.

"Feliciano," he called when the backdoor opened, "who was anti-Galileo? Feliciano…" Lovino blinked. "Why are you wearing a scarf?"

"Hm?" Feliciano asked, placing the groceries on the counter.

"It's like, sixty out. It's way too warm for a scarf." He sat up from the couch.

"Oh, well, I think it goes well with this outfit. Don't you think?" Feliciano tugged at his shirt absent-mindedly. "Plus, I want to wear it one last time before spring."

Lovino squinted. "Mhm."

Feliciano glanced up, eyes wide. "What?"

"That's some fucking bullshit." Lovino smirked. "What's this one's name?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, but I did get some of that cheese you like. I was thinking that we could maybe make something fancy for dinner, because I had some extra cash and I splurged a little bit and wouldn't Grandpa like something fancy?"

"You never have extra cash. Someone split the bill with you."

"Maybe I did have some extra cash," Feliciano said brightly. "Either way, we need to make a big meal."

"Mhm."

Feliciano smiled. "Drop it, please."

Lovino held up his hands, a habit he had unwillingly picked up from Antonio. "I'm just saying, whenever you start banging someone new, you always have a fuck ton of hickeys."

"I forgot you don't get hickeys, Lovino."

"Not since I was like, sixteen."

Feliciano pulled out the bread—violently. He knew Lovino hated when the bread was squished.

"Oh my gosh!" Lovino said loudly. "Feliciano, what happened to your neck?!"

Feliciano made a face, confused. And then he heard Grandpa's heavy footsteps. His face twisted through a few emotions, but he managed to shoot a glare at Lovino before his face settled into an innocent mask.

Grandpa Julius marched into the kitchen. "What's this I'm hearing about necks?"

Feliciano smiled and patted Grandpa on the arm. "Nothing, Grandpa! Look, I had some extra cash left over, so I think Lovino and me are going to make a big dinner, doesn't that sound nice, Grandpa?"

"I think Feliciano got in a fight," Lovino muttered.

Feliciano looked at him, then switched his attention back to Grandpa. "I also got some stain remover for your car."

Lovino nearly threw his phone across the room. "Feliciano!"

"Are there stains in my car?"

"No," Lovino snapped. He hauled himself off the couch and marched over to Feliciano, gripped his arm, and led him away. "Feliciano, can I talk to you in the other room?"

"Sure!"

Lovino pushed him into the dining room. "Okay, the car thing was literally years ago," he hissed. "That was just—" He struggled for the word. "Low."

Feliciano shrugged. "I told you to leave it alone." He played absently with his scarf. "At least I can get my boyfriends to use a condom."

"He did use a condom, it just spilled everywhere, okay?!"

"You think he would have been a little more careful, considering you were in the back of a 1955 Ferrari 750 Monza Spider."

Lovino glanced over his shoulder, praying Grandpa was still putting away the groceries. "Look, am I saying it was the best place for sex? No. Am I saying that he should have kept it in his pants? For fucking sure. But I replaced the leather, and all is well."

Feliciano grinned, and Lovino felt his face heat up. Because he sure as fuck hadn't had the funds at sixteen to replace the leader—they both knew that much.

Lovino watched as Feliciano began to walk by him, panicking, because Feliciano was not having the last word.

"Speaking of condoms, at least I never had chlamydia."

Feliciano whirled around. "I did not have chlamydia!"

"Bull shit!"

From the other room, Grandpa called: "Language, Lovino!"

"They gave you antibiotics!"

"It was a urinary tract infection!"

"We both saw your dick, and no urinary tract infection makes your dick look like that." Lovino crossed his arms. "Face it: I have way more dirt on you than you have on me."

Feliciano's cheeks were getting red. "At least I never crashed my car while I was getting a blowjob."

Lovino pointed. "You admit you've had a blowjob while driving, though!"

"No! And even if I had—no, I would never get a blowjob when I was driving, because that's just dangerous and that's how stupid people crash their cars! What is it with Antonio and cars?"

Lovino opened his mouth, but Feliciano cut him to the chase.

"And I've never had a boyfriend who broke the law! Ha!"

"Look, I'm twenty-three and he's twenty-eight now, it—"

"You were fifteen!"

"It," Lovino said, talking over Feliciano, "doesn't matter now! At least I've never stolen a fucking car!"

"Oh, no, you never stole it, but you were sitting next to me as I drove it down the street! And you were there when we ran away from the cops, too. And we both lied and said we were studying and our car broke down and then we both snuck out to destroy your engine before Grandpa could check."

Lovino shook his head. "Nope, nope, it was your idea, and you were the one who knew how to do all that shit with the wires."

"Yeah, well, uh, you tried cocaine! And you hit that guy!"

"I was drunk!"

Feliciano shrugged. "Didn't stop Grandpa from almost sending you to military school."

"No, you know what, that's what the most fucking annoying. Everyone thinks you've never done anything wrong, and they think I'm the fucked up Vargas, when you're just as screwed up as I am!"

Feliciano opened his mouth and shut it, just as quickly. Lovino panicked, wondering if he had said something wrong, because now the fight had flown right out of Feliciano. Lovino clenched his hands.

"Lovino," Feliciano said softly, "I don't think you're more screwed up than me."

"Well—well good!" Lovino said loudly, still arguing. "Because I'm not!"

Feliciano laughed. "I know!"

"Good!" Lovino nodded. "I really hope Grandpa didn't hear any of that."

The color drained out of Feliciano's face.