And With The Other Half Of The Equation...
I am getting married.
"Didn't I give you the cuff links?"
"Voy a casarme," Antonio said. He was getting married.
"No," Francis said, glancing about their makeshift dressing room.
Feliks pulled at his own hair. "I must have left them at my house! Wait two ticks while I totally get them!" With that the other ran out of the room, leaving Antonio with Francis once more.
"Just when you thought you actually had everything ready," Francis sighed, handing over Antonio's jacket despite the lack of cuff links. Antonio took it, staring it over for a moment. He was going to be wearing this. He was getting married in this. Francis took it from him and slid his arm into one of the sleeves. "I am not making you walk up to the altar, 'Toni."
"¿Qué?" Antonio blinked. Francis sighed.
"Watch the Spanish. I don't know whether things have changed, but if they have not Lovino will be furious that you are speaking a language he does not understand at him."
"Oh." Antonio mentally shook himself. "Sorry. I just... I'm getting married!"
"Really?" Francis asked, sarcasm dripping from his tongue. "I never would have guessed. I just thought you wanted me to help you put on this suit for no reason."
It took Antonio a few moments to realize that whether or not he was being annoying, Francis could always one up him in that respect. "Thanks, Fran," he responded likewise, his smile hopefully fake enough Francis could tell.
He did. Francis smirked. "I do try," he said, pulling the jacket around his shoulders so that Antonio could put his left arm in the other sleeve.
"It just does not feel real, now that it is here," Antonio began, staring up at the ceiling. "I don't even know how long it has been. So many years I have managed to keep him. I never even thought about marriage until Gilbert mentioned it at one point. He was making some joke, I know, but I realized that some of the problems Lovi and I had was because he thought I was not being serious and if I married him... it would assure him that I meant every word of it."
"Never thought once of marriage?" Francis asked thoughtfully, slipping something into Antonio's breast pocket, though Antonio did not look down. "That is strange, why would that be?"
For the longest time, my friend, the word marriage was equivocated with your running away. Your running away and your failures. "No idea," Antonio shrugged with a smile. "Though I suppose it has been long enough, hasn't it?"
"Plenty of time with being tied to one person to finally and officially have the knot, sure," Francis responded as Antonio buttoned himself up. "Long enough, I am surprised he is only now moving in with you."
"He has spent all days except the occasional weekend at home– my house," Antonio corrected brightly. "I suppose this is just him no longer using his brother's home as storage now!"
"He's not a pack rat, is he?" Francis asked. Antonio shook his head.
"Nothing like Arthur, Francis." Francis was not looking at him. Should he not have said that? Antonio did not know why making the comparison was wrong. They had been separated for so long, they had not even seen each other in most of that time. Was it really still that fresh of a wound? His friend seemed much older than him for some reason.
Actually, I still feel young. Antonio had always thanked Lovino for that. Lovino had always called him an idiot. Oh, his little tomato~!
"...and I will keep your papers on me," Francis was suddenly saying. Antonio stared at himself in the mirror. "Elizaveta gave me Lovino's earlier, so you both just have to get them from me before you go, all right? I still can't believe he gave in."
"Gave in?" Antonio questioned, staring over his shoulder at the Frenchman.
"To go to Barcelona."
"He did not give in," Antonio said, confused. "He just said that we were going to."
"But... I thought..." Francis stopped, thinking about it.
"He wanted to go to Rome? Me too."
Francis glared at him and smacked him in the shoulder. "Then he gave in! Honestly, you almost convince me that you are dense. I believe it without thinking. If I had never seen you be a manipulative bastard..."
"Dense?" Antonio asked, still confused. "What do you mean?"
Francis burst out into laughter (as Antonio had expected), then simply shook his head. "At least you picked out a pretty ring, Antonio. I'll give you that much. It's a pretty ring."
Antonio smiled before rearranging his tie in the mirror. I am getting married.
