Antonio quirked an eyebrow in confusion while watching Lovino sink into the nearest chair and start kneading his forehead. "So..." he prompted after a few silent minutes.
"So what?" Lovino snapped immediately, refusing to make eye contact.
"Uh," Anonio started again, sliding a chair next to the boy and slumping into it while he considered the best way to continue. "What-what did that mean exactly?"
Lovino cursed internally at the question, somewhat thankful that his weakened state was keeping his cheeks from becoming immediately inflamed. Truthfully, he knew why he had kissed Antonio, he loved the man, he was past denying it. But he wasn't ready to give up his semblance of order, his world was shifting wildly beneath his feet, upsetting everything he knew to be true, and his mind couldn't keep up. From the moment his mother had died, his purpose in life had been to keep his microcosm of life safe and unchanging. It wasn't healthy, he knew that well enough, but it was the only thing that made him feel sane. A small part of him wondered if he had really fainted from dehydration, or if it had been from the shock of finally seeing the physical manifestation of his brother's gradual departure from him. Or, his mind continued to spiral into shame, perhaps it was an attempt to guilt his brother into staying by his side.
Lovino shivered in disgust at himself, and Antonio, taking it as a chill, rested a hand on the slight Italian's shoulder, ducking his head so he could peer into the boy's face. "Lovi?"
"What, I'm fine, I mean-" Lovino shook his head slowly, trying to clear his thoughts, "I don't know." He admitted, curling his fingers into his hairline.
"You don't know what?" Antonio asked, slumping into his seat.
"I don't know what that meant. I'm-I mean I guess that I'm, sorry," he grimaced around the word, the corner of his lips quirking from his discomfort.
Antonio nodded silently and folded his arms over his chest as he considered his response. "Am I still allowed to bring you three meals a week?" He asked after a while, holding back a chuckle when Lovino's hands snapped up, eyebrows knit and mouth slightly agape with repulsion.
"Are you fucking kidding me? Why are you even putting up wi-" He straightened up, shaking his head as he reconsidered his words. "You know what, never mind, I don't even care. I don't want to know."
Antonio quirked his head, a devious smile on his lips, "put up with what?" He pressed.
"I said forget it," Lovino reminded firmly, "I'm done with talking, I want sleep."
"Okay, but Lovi?" Antonio asked, keeping a watchful eye as the Italian rose stiffly from his seat.
"What?" Lovino growled back, irritation setting in with exhaustion.
"Don't be mad," he warned, tossing items back into his knapsack before slinging the bag over his shoulder. "Am I supposed to pretend like that didn't happen?"
Despite the time Antonio had spent with the younger boy, he was unable to identify the look that was being leveled at him. It wasn't anger, he knew that for sure, nor one of the brief and beautiful moments of happiness. It wasn't sadness, thoughtfulness, embarrassment, anxiety, bemusement, or any of the other subtle and endearing emotions he had seen waver across the handsome Italian's face. No, if he had to name the look composed in those oddly familiar hazel eyes, it would be uncertainty.
Lovino didn't respond to the question, and for that Antonio was somewhat grateful. Words he had trouble with, he took them too literally, focused on them with too much intensity; but he could understand Lovino's face, a gift he prided himself on, as he seemed to be one of the few to possess the ability.
The Italian finally broke from his trance, making his way towards the hall and flicking off the light behind him, passively punishing Antonio for asking such a taboo question by plunging the boy into darkness. "Hey," the Spaniard called, jogging slightly to meet him, "you know, we really should tell Feli what happened."
"No," Lovino replied adamantly, unconsciously nodding in thanks when Antonio pulled the outside door open for him. "He can't handle it, he'll get upset."
"I think he can handle more than you give him credit for." Antonio said, glancing up at the clear night sky, and closing his eyes momentarily when a cold breeze upset the soft curls at the nape of his neck.
Lovino only sighed in response, feeling too drained to form a coherent argument. Antonio slid a comforting arm across the slumping boy's shoulders, smirking to himself when his touch wasn't shrugged away. "And even if he can't, he'll grow to," the Spaniard continued, "because none of us are born with strength. We work for it."
"Thanks Aristotle," Lovino replied sarcastically.
Antonio chuckled at the response, "yeah, I guess it's a bit cheesy, but-" he measured his words before continuing, "even if it's hard, I think it'd be more painful for Feli to know you didn't feel you could rely on him."
Lovino glanced up at Antonio, startled at how close his face was. "It's not that I don't trust him, he's my brother," he replied indignantly.
"But you want to protect him," the Spaniard interjected. "Why?"
"He's my brother." Lovino repeated, irritated that he was being asked such an obvious question.
"Well, don't you think he feels the same?" Antonio pressed, "don't you think he cares about you? That he wants you to be safe?"
The muted crunch of rubber soles against decrepit sidewalk filled the air as Lovino wrestled with the realization that Antonio wasn't as clueless as he appeared. A shiver forced it's way up his spine and he numbly leaned further into the Spaniard's side. He had never before felt so naked and exposed, it was an odd emotion, and he didn't know what to think or how to respond. It was both comforting and disturbing to know his feelings weren't as alien as he had always believed. It made him feel relieved, yet oddly commonplace and silly for having spent so many years tormenting himself over issues that were clearly easily diagnosed.
Part of him wanted to tell Antonio that no, he didn't know that his brother cared about him. That he genuinely believed no one did or would, and so he had to protect what he had by being the perfect son, the perfect grandson, the perfect brother. And maybe he was mad at himself for being unable to meet those expectations, because he was so far from perfect it was nauseating, and that hate was too much to shoulder, so sometimes he directed it outwards. It didn't matter if strangers hated him. They, unlike his family, had no obligation to like him, so it was a lost cause anyway. Because who would ever care to know the inferior Italian, unless they were bound by blood, why would anyone want to make friends with someone whose only job was to be a blemish on the otherwise beautiful canvas of the world.
He didn't say those things though, and he wouldn't. Even in his own mind, they sounded melodramatic and idiotic. It embarrassed him to know that he believed them, though he was at a loss to figure out how to stop. Lovino parted his lips to speak, mind pulling itself back to the present as he became aware that he was now sitting on a bench outside his dorm building, his and Antonio's bodies illuminated by the yellow light of the blissfully empty lobby.
"You looked like you needed a minute," Antonio smiled softly when Lovino gave him a questioning look. The Spaniard didn't appear sympathetic or put out, he didn't push Lovino for answers or fondle him with unabashed passion. The Italian wondered if Antonio had escaped from an alternate universe in which 'the guidebook to grumpy, self conscious Italians' was a best seller. Or, he thought sarcastically, it could just be that they were soul mates.
"I'm okay," he said, inhaling sharply when Antonio wrapped his strong arms around his torso and nuzzled his nose behind his cold ear.
"Good, I'm glad," Antonio said affectionately, his warm breath sending shivers across Lovino's neck. He pushed the older boy away when he had composed himself, rolling his shoulders while rising from his seat. 'Scratch the unabashed passion thing,' he thought bitterly, steadfastly ignoring the traitorous part of his brain that reminded him he hadn't exactly been inconspicuous about his own physical desires.
"It's been such a cold autumn, huh?" Antonio asked when a bitter wind rushed past the two newly standing bodies.
Lovino nodded, folding his hands into his armpits and ducking his chin into his collar while moving in a half jog towards the dormitory entrance. "Yeah, but I like it. There's a certain warmth in it."
"Says the guy who's shaking like we're in a blizzard," Antonio laughed, following the young Italian closely and waiting patiently while he typed his door code into the keypad.
"Shut up, bastard," Lovino called over his shoulder, scanning in his card and leaning against the heavy door as soon as the access beep was issued.
"Well you should dress warmer, it'd be bad if you got a cold," Antonio replied as they padded up the stairs.
"You don't get sick from being in the cold," Lovino objected, "you have to be exposed to viruses or something."
"Oh, really?" Antonio asked as he pushed the second story door open for the Italian.
Lovino only nodded, trying to ignore the way his heart had started to race at the realization that he would soon need to make a decision on whether or not to make Feli aware of his hospital visit. He vaguely contemplated why he was even considering Antonio's words, but he pushed it away, too concerned with the present problem to add to his trepidation.
"You're so smart," Antonio said seriously, a genuine smile lit in his tender green eyes.
"What?" Lovino muttered, freezing his thoughts to try and recall what Antonio was referring to, "oh," he said when he remembered. "Shut up, I'm not," he took a shuddering breath as they neared his dorm, "it's common knowledge."
"No, not really," Antonio argued, placing a comforting hand on the Italian's shoulder when he saw the boy tensing. "You don't take things for granted, I think that must be what makes you a great artist."
"I'm not a great artist, either," Lovino mumbled, pitch lowering to a near whisper when he reached the ominous oak door.
Antonio squeezed the boy's shoulder before removing his hand and knocking on the door when the Italian didn't make a move to search for his key. "We'll continue this conversation later."
Lovino nodded numbly, heartbeat echoing loudly in his ears as his vision shifted from tacky yellowed wood to the interior of his newly-straightened dorm. "Ve~Lovi, Antonio," the soft voice of his brother sounded, "did you forget your key?"
Lovino ignored the question and padded past his brother into his room, freezing immediately when he spotted the blonde from earlier sitting on his brother's desk chair. His eyebrows knit in frustration and he pointed at the atrocity before snapping his head back at his brother, "what is he doing here?"
"Your brother was scared to be alone," Ludwig spoke up when Feliciano crumbled into apologies and tears, begging his brother not to be mad. "I told him I'd stay here until you got home."
Lovino opened his mouth to reply before snapping it shut again and trudging over to his bed. The composure of that beefy German ticked him off, none of Feliciano's previous pursuits had seem so unaffected by his rage. Scared, pissed off, those were reactions he understood, but impassivity he had yet to encounter. And not only that, his mind raced as he slumped onto his bed, careful not to repeat his fainting episode from earlier, in the man's tone seemed to be the inference that he had been there for Feliciano when his brother hadn't. The audacity of the implication both shamed and infuriated him, and left him not knowing how to respond.
"Next time, call me," Lovino growled to his brother, deciding tonight at least he could grant himself the bliss of ignoring the problem.
Feliciano sniffed and nodded, walking over to sit down next to his brother while Antonio and Ludwig made stiff introductions. The younger Italian eyed his brother curiously, patting his knee in apology as he took in his unusually pale countenance, "is everything okay?"
Lovino chewed the inside of his cheek and stared at the floor with intensity, if he had been thinking of telling Feliciano what happened, the presence of the German had demolished those intentions.
Feliciano gave up on his brother and turned his gaze to Antonio, "did something happen?"
Lovino shot his eyes up when he heard the Spaniard clear his throat, "well," he started in, clearly uncomfortable with having to lie.
"I passed out," the older Italian interrupted him, heart skipping a beat when he realized what he had said.
"You what?" Feliciano yelped, immediately wrapping his arms around his brother and squeezing as tightly as his thin arms could manage. "Are you okay?" He asked, words muffled as he nuzzled his face into his brother's shoulder.
Lovino couldn't form words, his admission was still bouncing around the interior of his mind, sounding more and more pathetic the longer it lingered. He couldn't figure out why he had said it, and he cringed when his mind unhelpfully delivered images of Antonio's face, because it couldn't be guilt that had caused it. Who cared if Antonio was made uncomfortable, who cared if he had to lie to his younger brother for him? When had that bastard's comfort become more important than his own?
"He's fine, I brought him to the hospital, he was just dehydrated," Antonio explained when he caught sight of Lovino's overwhelmed face. He stepped forward and gently pried the small Italian from his brother, "let's let him breathe, okay?" Antonio smiled warmly.
Lovino felt an unexpected surge of jealousy, he wasn't used to seeing that smile directed at anyone other than himself. "Ve~Lovi, are you going to be okay?" Feliciano continued to fuss, not giving the older boy time to contemplate his emotions.
Lovino sighed, "I'm fine I-"
"He's going to take the day off tomorrow," Antonio interrupted, smirking knowingly at the older Italian's wide-eyed look.
"N-no I'm not, no one said that," Lovino argued, ignoring his brother's confusion.
"The doctor said you needed to rest." The Spaniard returned with finality.
"So I'm resting now, I should be working in the studio, and instead I'm here to get my precious sleep." Lovino took to his feet in a feeble attempt to stare down the taller boy.
Antonio wanted to chuckle at the cute way the Italian persisted, at the way he tried to look so mean and forceful, but he knew he'd only make the situation worse if he did, so he settled for brushing a few stray strands of hair from the boy's forehead and resting his hand on his shoulder. "One night isn't enough, you need a day of doing nothing."
Lovino felt his anger diffuse slightly, his irritation interrupted by the explosion of heat that radiated from Antonio's calloused fingers against his cold skin. "But I-"
"Antonio's right, fratello," Feliciano interjected, standing up from the bed and tugging gently at his brother's sleeve in a bid for attention. "Please take a day off, I'll explain everything to your professors, you won't have to worry about anything."
"But-" Lovino tried again, his tongue was dry and heavy in his mouth and he felt his resistance breaking down, weakened by the feeling of being surrounded by two people that might genuinely care for him.
"Please," Feliciano repeated, quietly this time, with tears tracing the corners of his eyes.
Lovino rolled his eyes and plopped unceremoniously to his bed, letting his back fall on the less than comfortable mattress while he let out an audible sigh. "Fine, fine, you bastards, I'll let you have your way this once."
Feliciano cheered, his tears drying immediately as he dropped next to his brother and leaned down to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you," he smiled when Lovino made a show of rubbing the tainted skin. It was hard for his brother to do things for himself, and so he was grateful for the subtle admission of weakness, even if he had to coerce it out of him with dramatics.
"Well, I guess I should be going," Antonio said after a while, despondent over having to abandon the cute show of the Italian brothers' interactions.
Lovino blinked and stretched his neck to see the time on his alarm clock, he straightened all the way when he saw how late it was and nodded his head in understanding. "God, yeah, it's late, you should go." He agreed, vision averted as he fought himself internally. "Um, and, thanks I guess, for, you know-" His words dropped off when Antonio wrapped his arms around his shoulders in a comfortable embrace and lifted a hand to ruffle his hair.
"My pleasure," the Spaniard replied in a, in Lovino's opinion, maddeningly seductive voice. He felt his cheeks inflame as Antonio pulled away and smiled warmly at Feliciano, cupping the small Italian's cheek while he bid him goodbye.
"Get out of here, bastard," Lovino growled, and not because he was jealous. The idiot Spaniard was overly affectionate, but it didn't bother him. It wasn't like he thought every touch between them was special. There was no way he held the older boy in such reverence. No, if anything, his irritation was due to being tired.
Antonio laughed, "okay okay, goodnight," he waved as he slipped out the door.
"I should go, too," a voice sounded from Feliciano's side of the room, shocking Lovino. He had forgotten about the German's presence, and he was hit with another burst of embarrassment when he realized that the solemn boy, whom he had only just met, had been an audience to his show of vulnerability.
Feliciano jumped up and rushed to the boy's side, "ve~okay, if you have to," he nodded, guiding the boy to the hall and leaving Lovino alone in the room as the pair parted ways.
"What was that?" Lovino demanded when Feliciano re-entered the room, cheeks painted with a delicate pink flush, a much cuter look than the garish shade of red that plastered his features, the older Italian internalized bitterly.
"What was what?" Feliciano asked innocently, pulling off his shirt and pants as he readied himself for bed.
"Don't play stupid," Lovino warned, critically eyeing the soft curves and flawless skin his brother possessed, and feeling incredibly inferior.
"I was just saying goodbye," Feliciano shrugged, padding into the bathroom to brush his teeth.
"And why did that require going into the hall?" Lovino yelled after him, unsure if his anger was from jealousy over the attention Antonio had given him, or from the fact that he was blatantly hiding his relationship with the stoic German.
Feliciano reappeared from the bathroom and tilted his head in bemusement at his fuming brother. "Ve~is it that time again?" He teased.
"No." Lovino replied, immediately knowing what his brother was referring to. "Do it and I'll kick you in the balls, I swear to God."
Feliciano ignored his brother's protests and opened his arms wide, dodging the older Italian's wildly kicking legs as he tackled him with a hug. "Hug therapy!" He squealed happily, laughing at the string of curses that erupted beneath him.
"Enough with your stupid hug therapy!" Lovino argued, struggling against Feliciano's hold, "I've had enough hugging today!"
"Ve~you can never have enough," Feliciano giggled, "and I won't stop till you hug me back."
"Isn't there a rule about manhandling the ill?" Lovino complained.
"So you admit it, then?" Feliciano pulled away from his brother so he could gaze at the sullen Italian.
Lovino took the moment of vulnerability and kicked his brother away, a self congratulatory smile quirking his lips when the younger boy fell to the ground with a grunt. "Of course not," he replied, rolling over to till he was facing the wall. "And don't think I've forgotten about that German guy," he added for good measure. "You're just lucky I'm tired."
Feliciano only hummed in reply, clearly not bothered by his brother's threatening words. "Maybe you should drink something before going to bed," he said, walking to the sink to fill a cup with water without waiting for a reply.
Lovino pushed himself up by his elbow and looked over his shoulder, grimacing when a glass was pushed in front of his face. "I'm not a kid," he started, only to take the glass and gulp it down anyway.
"Yeah, I know," Feliciano replied, sitting on the side of his brother's bed and fiddling with a loose string on his boxers. "What happened exactly, when you passed out I mean?" The boy implored.
Lovino shrugged and pushed himself into a sitting position, back leaning against the cold wall. "I dunno, it's embarrassing, I don't want to talk about it."
Feliciano opened his mouth to reply, but seemed to think against it, "good thing big brother Antonio was there."
Lovino wrinkled his nose, "ew, don't call that pervert 'big brother,' what the hell."
Feliciano giggled, thankful for his brother's lighter mood, "I wish you had called me, though, when you were at the hospital."
Lovino sighed and turned his eyes to the ceiling, "yeah, well I wish you had called me when you saw our place was ransacked, instead of that damn German bastard."
"That's different, Lovi," Feliciano pouted slightly.
"No it's not, it's not at all," Lovino shot back, irritation knitting in his brows. "You could've gotten hurt, Feli, do you realize that? Whoever did this could've been in the room when you got back, and I know you trust everyone and have no worries and whatever, but Jesus, you just-you have to be more careful because I," he bit the inside of his lip when a knot started to grow in his throat. "I can't lose you," he admitted, blinking away the tears born from a combination of frustration, embarrassment, and the loneliness that left him breathless, "you're all I have."
Feliciano flung his body forward, nuzzling his head into his brother's chest as tears fell freely from his eyes. "I'm sorry," he hiccuped, uncertain if he meant for not being careful or for bringing them into this situation in the first place. He had wanted to get out from the stifling confines of his brother's watchful eye, he had accepted the scholarship to this school in order to do so, but he didn't know it would be like this. He knew Lovino would have a hard time of it at first, but he hadn't realized how deep their bonds went, and how affected the had both been by the past. In fact, now he realized, Lovino had probably always protected him from that truth.
The older Italian combed his hand through his brother's silky hair, letting his nails skim the surface of his scalp like their mother used to do. He was sorry, too, but he couldn't say it. He was done with this day, this month, this lifetime. He had long since stopped believing in the existence of any deity, but he still couldn't help but curse every last one he could name, for making him and his brother karma's punching bag.
"Are you dating that guy?" Lovino asked after a while, deciding it was better to accept uncomfortable truths than have his brother avoid him.
Feliciano nodded before giving a soft "yes," and pulling away to wipe his tears and gaze nervously into the older Italian's tired eyes. He flinched when Lovino cursed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry for not telling you."
Lovino breathed deeply, trying to keep his anger at bay before answering. "I knew something was going on, anyway," he admitted. "Just, please don't lie to me." He said lamely.
"I know," Feliciano agreed.
"I want to have a talk with him, I can't have a stranger dating my brother." Lovino said sternly, leveling the younger Italian with a serious gaze. "You haven't fucked him yet have you?" He asked, voice dropping an octave at the uncomfortable subject.
Feliciano squealed and fell to his side in peels of laughter, "ve~that's a horrible way to say it," he admonished. "And no, you have to wait for it to be special, you know?"
Lovino rolled his eyes, "it's just sex, what's so special about it?"
The younger boy grinned and stretched his arms across the soft covers, "if you say that then you haven't had it with the right person yet."
Lovino glared down at his brother and gave a slight "hmph." "You're such a slut."
Feliciano gasped and grabbed the pillow behind him, pelting it into his brother's head. A short tussle broke out, ending with Lovino rubbing his head and Feliciano nestled safely into the fortress of his own bed. "Don't forget to turn off your alarm," the younger boy reminded as he rolled onto his stomach. Lovino nodded and reached to turn off his desk light, sighing as he lowered his body into his mattress.
"Hey, Lovi?" Feliciano's muffled voice sounded.
"Hm?" Lovino replied, already sinking into a much needed sleep.
"Are you and Antonio dating?"
Lovino opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling as if it held the answer to the question, and his heart picked up it's familiar drumming. He knew the answer, it was a simple one, but his mouth seemed unwilling to make it. "No," he choked out finally, turning over to bury his flaming cheeks into his pillow.