Arthur gingerly lowered himself down from Mint's back, ignoring the twinge of pain in his knee at the pressure of touching the ground. He'd left his cane at home, because he'd be damned it he limped, like some old man, to do battle with his old enemy. Antonio would laugh if he showed up with the smallest weakness, and Arthur hated being mocked by the scum of Madrid.
He opened the door to the house, finding it unlocked. Figures. That idiot never locks his home. Arthur walked inside, trying to keep as much weight off his knee as he could without visible limping.
"Hola! Quien—" Antonio stepped into the room, his cheerful manner darkening as soon as he saw him. "You."
"Long time, no see." He smirked, letting his malice show freely. Was that a bruise on Antonio's cheek? He didn't think about it long.
"Long time, indeed. I thought we agreed to avoid each other as much as possible." The Spaniard glared at him, shifting into a position that he could easily fight in.
Arthur walked closer to Antonio until they were nose to nose, two shades of green battling each other. "That's a bit hard to do it you're courting Lovino."
"You have no claim to him. I'll do as I please, I actually love him," Antonio spat acidly, "Unlike you."
"How do you know whether I love him or not? You barely know Lovino!"
"But I know you and you couldn't love anyone, heartless bastard! And what do you know about Lovi? He doesn't trust easily, and he especially doesn't trust people like you!"
"What do you mean people like me?" Arthur shoved Antonio's shoulder. "Do you mean people with money?"
"I mean people with only money! That's all you have. Your heart is cold. You could never love him." Antonio shoved him back.
"I can love him!" He felt his anger pause and he froze for a moment. Arthur knew he had loved Lovino for quite a while now, but the love he felt for Lovino felt nothing like the fond feelings he had encountered with Alfred. It was deeper, silent, waiting in the very depth of him for him to find it—acknowledge it. "I do love him..."
"You're only lusting after him, because you're a lonely, pitiful man. You can never truly love him," Antonio growled. "Just leave him alone."
"So you can take him? You can't even keep the whores from scratching up that face of yours." Arthur pinched the bruise on Antonio's cheek. "I won't allow that, he'll stay with me!"
"He's not yours!" The Spaniard slapped his hand away.
"Well, he'd not yours either!"
"I saw him first!"
"I held a conversation with him first!"
"I kissed him first!"
"I loved him first!"
"I...made love to him first!" It was a lie, but the look of fury on Antonio's face proved it worth saying.
"YOU WHAT!" Antonio threw himself on Arthur, sending them both to the ground and knocking the breath from his lungs. The Spaniard punched him in the face before he could get his bearings back. They rolled around, trying to gained higher ground over the other. Hits landed on ribs and sides, but blood dripped down his chin from a split in his lip. Arthur finally got a hold on Antonio and slammed the brunet against the ground, grabbing a hand-full of curly hair and smashing his face into the ground again. Antonio laid daze for a few moments, but soon tried struggling again and Arthur held him down.
"Mon amis, stop this fighting!" Francis tried to pull Arthur off his friend.
"Get back unless you want a black eye, frog," he spat, grinning when Francis took a step back. "This cunt should know better than to tread on my territory."
"Is that all he is to you?"
"Who?"
"Lovino, you fool. Is he just another conquest for you to fuck?" Francis's nose wrinkled in disgust.
He glared at the Frenchman. "Of course not! You know he isn't."
"Then shouldn't you be with him right now and stop this nonsense? You should never teat your lover like a piece of land." Francis put his hands on his hips, chiding him like a mother would.
"But I don't want Antonio to take him from me..."
"How do you know he will? Put some trust in Lovino. If he loves you, he will stay with you."
"I don't know if he loves me."
"You really are a fool, Arthur." Francis shook his head sadly.
Arthur slowly stood up, keeping an eye on the violent Spaniard in case of a sneak attack. He knew Francis was right, but Antonio made him anxious. The Spaniard could kill with his looks alone; sun kissed skin and laughing eyes drew people to him like moths to a flame. Whereas, Arthur only had his stunning green eyes going for him, but even then, they were hidden under thick, dark brows and a rotten attitude.
"Good day to you, Antonio. This will be your only warning."
The Spaniard glared at him slowly sitting up. From his tense posture, Arthur readied himself for another go, but Francis set his hand on his friend's shoulder and put an end to that. "Just get out," Antonio hissed and spat blood at his feet.
"He'll never be yours." Arthur turned and walked out, hearing Antonio call out behind him, "You better not leave Lovi alone, or I'll take him from you."
"Piss off," he grumbled. Arthur slammed the door shut and limped back to his horse.
...
Arthur dragged himself through the door, groping for the cane he left by the entrance. The worn wood did nothing to relieve the ache in his knee, but at least it helped him keep his weight was off it. His entire body throbbed and he knew bruises would be waiting for him in the morning.
"Where were you?" Lovino stood in front of him, his hands on his hips. His eyes widened and scanned over his beaten face and disheveled clothes. "Son of a bitch! What the fuck happened to your face?"
"Nothing important, love."
Lovino's jaw clenched and his lips turned down into a fierce scowl. "You're so full of bullshit. Come to the kitchen, I'll clean up your face."
"You don't have to—"
Lovino sent him such a dark glare that he nearly felt afraid for his life. Arthur had never seen Lovino so infuriated. "Get. Your ass. In the kitchen."
He tried to maintain his dignity, but with Lovino walking behind him with a glare that could kill, he felt like a dog with his tail between his legs. Arthur sat down at the table and kept his eyes trained on the ground, trying not to anger the Italian anymore than he already was.
Feliciano leaned over and whispered, "He's really mad—"
"Feliciano," Lovino snapped in the sharpest voice he'd ever heard him use on his brother. "Don't talk to him, he's in trouble."
The little Italian shrank away from him, glancing apologetically at Arthur. Feliciano stood up and walked out of the room.
"Lovino, I—"
"Shut up." Lovino pulled a chair in front of him to sit in and grabbed his chin. The Italian turned his face from side to side, glaring darkly at bruising on his face. "I know you had Feliciano read that note to you."
"He told you...?"
"Of course, he did. He's my fucking brother." Lovino turned his glare fully on him, and Arthur looked away. "I see that you went and 'talked' with Antonio."
"Lovino, I'm a fool."
"Yes, you are." Lovino cleaned the blood from his lip and chin.
He sighed, the chill of Lovino's anger making him nervous. "I'm sorry."
"You should have kept out of my business." The Italian rubbed salve on his cut lip and cheek.
"I know, you keep reminding me to stay away."
"Then why the hell don't you?"
"Because...I love you." The words were out, hanging in the air, before he could stop himself.
Lovino jerked away from him, as if burned by those three sweet words. The Italian's eyes searched his face wildly, looking for any falsehood. "D-Don't joke around!"
"I'm not joking. I'm in love with you, Lovino."
"You can't be!" Lovino stood up and stumbled away from him until the wooden counter stopped him.
"And why not?" Arthur struggled to stand, his knee protesting loudly.
"I-I don't know... You just can't. I'm no good, you know that!"
"No, I don't know that! You are good— You're amazing!"
Lovino turned to run, but Arthur caught his arm and stopped him. The Italian swung and he barely had time to jerk back before a blade sliced through the air. "Don't touch me! You don't love me! As soon as I mentioned you, Antonio confessed his love, now you're doing the same fucking thing! What is it between you two? Is this some contest to out do each other? Am I just a prize to the two of you?" Lovino held the knife between them like a barrier, his eyes narrow and suspicious, but he could see the fear lurking in the back of those eyes.
"I'm sorry, Lovino," Arthur said softly. Lovino's blade trembled and he felt terrible, Arthur had never seen Lovino's steady hands shake so violently as they did now. Arthur took Lovino's hands between his own, rubbing his thumb on the back of his hand soothingly. "Allow me to explain..."
"Go to hell, Arthur." Lovino glared resentfully at him, but didn't move away.
"I deserve that, and you don't have to listen to me, but please..." He slipped the knife from Lovino's reluctant hands, staring honestly into those conflicted hazel eyes. "As much as I hate to admit this, I'm terrified of Antonio. I can hold against that piece of scum in a brawl any day, but I'm worthless when it comes to love. I mean, look at me and then think of Antonio. I'm just a plain bloke from England and he's so damn handsome— I don't stand a chance when it comes down to it. And when you mentioned Antonio, I know how easily he can take you from me. I just grew so fearful and rushed things on you. Please, believe me when I say, you mean more to me than anything that can be won. Can you ever forgive me acting rashly?"
Lovino stayed silent all through his rambling and long after he ran out of words. "You really are a fool... Mio Dio, how could you think that bastard can charm me so easily? I care about you, dammit— that alone terrifies me into wanting to kill you." Lovino snorted and scowled, gripping his hands tightly. "Then you had to go and pull all this bullshit on me." Lovino shook his head, as if to clear it of his muddled thoughts. "We're both fools."
"I don't think you're foolish."
"But I am. I just threatened you with a knife, because I can't figure out my shit." Lovino let out a sharp, humorless chuckle. "I can't believe I actually thought you loved me."
"But, Lovino... I do love you."
The brunet stared at him blankly. "What?"
"I love you."
"Give me back my knife!" Lovino lunged for the blade, but Arthur held it out of reach. "Dammit, Arthur! I'm gonna cut your lying balls off!"
"For what? Loving you?" He frowned unhappily.
"You can't love me!" The Italian leaned against him, trying to reach the knife and wrestle it from his hands.
"But I do." He caught Lovino's lips in a fierce kiss. Arthur didn't let Lovino pull away and kept him trapped in his arms and kiss. Lovino quickly gave up his struggles and returned the kiss, his arms finding themselves wrapped around Arthur's neck. The knife slipped from his grip in favor of holding on to the warm body pressed against him. He felt Lovino relax in his arms, his lips moving eagerly against his. His tongue pressed insistently against the Italian's lips, and was quickly allowed entrance. Lovino's tongue rubbed against his, sounds of pleasure escaping their connected mouths. He pulled back and pressed kisses to Lovino's jaw, trailing his lips down the Italian's smooth neck.
"Arthur," Lovino breathed and threaded his fingers through his hair.
He laved his tongue over a certain spot, sucking on it gently. "You don't have to love me," Arthur murmured against Lovino's neck, "Just stay with me."
"I told you before, you pitiful fool, I'm not going anywhere." Lovino pulled his face up and kissed him breathlessly.
They shared many more kisses, until Lovino insisted on stopping so he could make dinner. Even while Lovino occupied himself with food, Arthur stole kisses from the Italian's intoxicating lips. It seemed Lovino had forgotten about his knife and Arthur slipped the blade into his boot for examination later.
*throws a chapter at you*
-Windy