THE PERKS OF BALCONING

3. There Must Be An Angel (Playing With My Heart) (Eurythmics)

When Antonio walked in room 314, Arthur was alone, sulking in his bed.

"What's with the long face?" he asked. "What happened?"

"Alistair, that's what happened," Arthur answered, irked.

"Your brother? What did he do?"

Arthur fidgeted with the smartphone in his hand. "He texted me. Said he was flying back home. He's leaving me all alone in a foreign country!"

"That's a dick move."

"Yeah. I'm not sure what I'll do when I get out of here."

"You were halfway through your holidays when the accident happened, right?" Antonio said, air-quoting the word 'accident'. Arthur pouted, offended, but the doctor ignored it and went on: "Maybe you could look for a place to stay for when you leave the hospital and resume your vacations."

"Maybe… I don't know. I'll think about it." He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Right now, I just want to murder Alistair."

"Ah, siblings," Antonio laughed. "Always a pain."

"Tell me about it—I have four. What about you?"

"I've a brother. Well, half-brother, actually. And step-brother."

Arthur blinked, confused. "You're going to have to elaborate."

"Our father was a dick who had a double life. Cheated on my mum with his, and the other way around. I found out I had a brother—half-brother—when I was sixteen."

"Wow."

"Yeah. It was a hard blow for my mum. But then, long story short, she dumped him, and so did João's mum, and then they started to hang out together, one thing led to another, and are now happily married. So he's also my step-brother, technically."

Arthur chuckled in disbelief. "You're telling me your mum married the woman her husband cheated on her with?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

"Wow. Your life is a soap-opera."

"I hear that often," Antonio laughed.

"What about your father?"

"I haven't talked to him in years. It's okay," he assured, waving his hand nonchalantly. "My step-mum is lovely, and João and I get along wonderfully. All of us are great without my father in our lives."

Arthur whistled, impressed. "All this almost makes my family sound normal," he mused aloud.

Antonio had only met two Kirkland siblings, and even from that small sample he could tell that they were far from normal. Nothing wrong with that, though — normal is boring anyway. He was about to say that when the door was pushed open, interrupting him.

Francis walked backwards into the room, pulling with him a wheelchair in which Gilbert was sat, his plastered leg raised.

"Hello, Toño," the nurse chirped happily. "Look, we made a friend on the way back from the toilet!"

"Hello, awesome people!" Gilbert called, throwing his hands in the air. "Prepare to meet my baby brother!"

This caught Antonio's attention. He still hadn't had the chance to meet Gilbert's brother — "a proper German and the greatest lawyer", in his patient's own words — but he spoke so much of his younger brother (with an endearing mixture of pride and I'm-still-cooler-than-him) that Antonio felt he already knew the guy. "That's great," he smiled.

Francis glanced at him, and Antonio recognized that look as a warning. Beware.

Then someone else walked in and introduced himself: "Ludwig Beilschmidt, lawyer officially on holidays yet doomed to work because of my idiotic brother."

And when Antonio's eyes fell on him, he didn't know where he should look first.

Ludwig was your typical German: tall and broad; blonde and blue-eyed. That was nice.

What wasn't so nice was that Ludwig was also your typical German tourist.

His face, just like his brother's, was completely sunburnt, except for a sunglasses-shaped white area. He wore a very unfashionable Hawaiian shirt, blue with colourful flowers and palm-trees, and khaki shorts. His arms and legs had also received one too many kisses from the Spanish sun and were coloured a painful shade of red. The final touch, the cherry on top of the cake, were his sandals with socks.

Antonio was certain that, if he googled guiri, Ludwig would be the first picture to appear.

He really wanted to put his own head through a wall.

But he, too, was a professional and good at his job, so he instead put on a smile and shook Ludwig's hand. "Doctor Fernández, or Antonio if you like" he said. "Pleased to meet you."

"Pleasure. Thanks for taking care of my brother. I know he can be a pain."

"Oh, no, I'm delighted! He's so much fun to be around."

Ludwig raised an eyebrow, as if saying Yeah, sure. "Either way, you'll be pleased to know that I'm making progress on his case. Hopefully he'll only have to pay a fine. And maybe we'll soon get rid of that." He pointed to Gilbert's bed, where Francis was cuffing him again.

"That's good," Antonio nodded. Unlike your fashion sense, he wanted to add, but kept it to himself. That'd be a rude thing to say.

~{§}~

Me: I can't believe you
Me: You're seriously leaving?

Assholetair: aye

Me: Why?

Assholetair: bc I can

Me: Alistair I swear to God…

Assholetair: bc our reservation at the hotel ended

Me: So? Move to another one?

Assholetair: nah
Assholetair: I miss Scotland
Assholetair: I havent seen the rain in weeks
Assholetair: Ive needs

Me: I'm your BROTHER and I'm in a HOSPITAL
Me: How can you be so calm about leaving? What about me?

Assholetair: youll figure something out
Assholetair: maybe try seducing ur sexy doctor ;)
Assholetair: kill 2 birds with 1 stone

Me: I AM SO NOT GOING TO DO THAT

Assholetair: dont tell me u dont want a piece of that ass…

Me: NO

Assholetair: u may not have noticed but hes got a fine ass

Me: We are NOT discussing this

Assholetair: why? u getting aroused? is he there? ( ͡ ͜ʖ ͡)

Me: God I hate you…

Assholetair: and thats why im leaving without u *finger guns*
Assholetair: ill drop by later with ur suitcase
Assholetair: will u want a kiss gbye?

Me: I want you to die

Arthur groaned and put his phone down. His brother always got on his nerves. He had only just met Ludwig and was already feeling sorry for him — Gilbert totally fit the annoying-older-brother type. Like Alistair, he probably loved getting involved in his little siblings' love lives. That was something that had always driven Arthur crazy.

… but he had to admit that Antonio did have a fine ass.

He had checked.

Guilty.

~{§}~

"So, what did you think of dearest Ludwig's outfit?" Francis asked maliciously.

"I felt the sudden urge to haul myself through the window," Antonio answered without missing a beat as he unwrapped a lollipop.

"Same."

Antonio sighed. "I hope Arthur dresses better…" he mumbled absentmindedly.

"Oh? And why would you care?" Francis asked, smirking.

"…" Antonio blushed madly when he realized what he had just said. "I don't. I don't care. Forget you ever heard that."

"Impossible."

"I did not say that."

"Sure."

"I have to make a call."

"You can run, but you can't hide."

"Shut up."

Antonio left the locker room hurriedly, dialling a number on his phone. It was true that he wanted to make a phone call, but it wasn't really urgent. He just wanted to put some distance between him and Francis before the teasing became unbearable.

Why exactly he had moved the topic from Ludwig to Arthur, he didn't know.

Or rather, he didn't want to think about it.

~{§}~

There was nothing on TV. Arthur turned it off and glanced at Gilbert. His roommate was on his bed, listening to music with headphones and, judging by the snores, sleeping. With the loud German out, there were few entertainments for Arthur.

His phone dinged. New text message.

Assholetair: artie
Assholetair: ill be there soon
Assholetair: with ur luggage
Assholetair: imma ask if u can keep it in ur room
Assholetair: if ur not allowed ill ask if theyve a spare room or something

Arthur bit back a smile as he read his brother's messages. Maybe Alistair did care about him… deep inside. He typed a reply.

Me: Thanks

Assholetair: if none of those options r available
Assholetair: i was thinking

Me: Yes?

Assholetair: u seduce antonio and convince him to keep ur stuff in his place ;)

Me: Fuck you

Scratch that. Alistair was still a goddamn bastard.

Me: Rot in Hell
Me: I wish your plane crashes

Assholetair: i wish u never bang antonio

That was a low blow.

"Arthur? Are you busy?"

The Brit screeched, startled, and nearly flung his phone at Antonio's face. The doctor flinched, his green eyes opened wide in shock, and for what seemed like an eternity they remained still, staring at each other. Eventually, both broke down in quiet, nervous chuckles.

"Sorry," Arthur apologized. "You scared me."

"No, it's me who's sorry. I shouldn't have sneaked up on you like that," Antonio replied, awkwardly scratching his neck. "What were you doing?" He leant closer and Arthur was fast to lock his phone before he could read Alistair's inappropriate comments.

"Just texting," he answered. "With my brother."

"Ah, sorry, was it important? I can come later."

"No, no," he assured quickly. "It's fine. He was being a bother. What do you want?"

"Yes, that. Um…" He pouted, as if he were trying to find the proper words to express himself. "I have some friends who own a nice house around here. They usually rent it for tourists and, well, I, um, I gave them the approximate date you'll leave the hospital and they said it will be free by then." A bit awkwardly, he crossed his arms before the chest and shrugged. "They said you could rent it for a few days, if you want. And they'd make you a discount because, you know, friend of a friend and all that." He smiled timidly. "So, you know, if you want to resume your holidays after we're done with you, well—just tell me, and I'll give them a call. Yeah? Cool?"

It took Arthur a moment to process all of Antonio's words. It took him a little longer to realize he was staring at the doctor with a stunned (possibly stupid) expression on his face, eyes and mouth wide open, and that he probably looked like an idiot.

"I-I'm—That's great, I mean—I-I'd love to," he managed to stutter.

Those words seemed to wash Antonio's nerves away. His face brightened up as a big grin split his face.

It was at that moment that Arthur made a mental correction: Antonio might have a fine ass, but his best feature was definitely his smile. There was no possible argument against that.

"Okay, cool," Antonio said. He was still a bit fidgety, and it was seriously adorable. "I'll tell my friends."

"Thanks a lot."

"Oh, don't mention it. It's just—"

The door opened suddenly, interrupting him, and Alistair walked in the room, dragging a black suitcase behind him.

It'd been a beautiful moment, while it had lasted.

"Hey," Alistair greeted them. He shook Antonio's hand and ruffled Arthur's hair. "They said I could leave this under your bed, so—there it goes. Thanks," he said to Antonio when he rushed to help him slither the suitcase into its new place.

"You're welcome. So, you're flying back to Britain, I heard?"

"Ah, yes." Alistair threw his arm around Antonio's shoulders and dragged him along out of the room.

Forgotten behind, Arthur could only watch as his brother and the doctor chatted on the corridor. The way Alistair had stolen Antonio had already been bad enough, but now, seeing them laugh together, spotting the friendly way in which Alistair patted Antonio's arm, witnessing how wonderfully they got along — that was gut-wrenching.

He knew perfectly well that Alistair was doing all that to make him jealous.

The chat came to an end and Antonio went for a handshake, but Alistair kissed his cheeks instead, Spanish style.

Well, it wasn't working. Arthur wasn't jealous, not at all.

Before walking out of his sight, his brother looked at him and wiggled his eyebrows up and down, a knowing glint in his eyes.

No, Arthur wasn't jealous.

But he was going to castrate Alistair with his bare hands.


AN: João will show up later on. Alistair and Gilbert aren't the only big brothers whose only purpose in life is annoying the crap out of their little siblings. :P Also, the word guiri is a concept we have in Spain. It basically refers to the stereotypical tourist (mostly German and English) that we get every summer. The description I gave of Ludwig? That's a guiri