"ANTONIO!"
After several decades worth of anxiety, rushed decisions and running to see what was wrong, Antonio had learned to accept that the world was not necessarily in imminent danger of coming to a sudden end whenever Romano was screaming his lungs out. In fact, most of the time there seemed to be no correlation whatsoever between Romano's shouting fits and a catastrophe of whatever nature.
Sighing, he put down his book and stepped into the hallway, just as Romano was rounding the corner. His face was flushed and he was still wearing his long winter coat, slightly wet from the incessant drizzle outside.
"What is it?" Antonio asked.
"Where's my brother?"
Antonio pointed a finger at the ceiling, indicating that Feliciano was upstairs.
Romano cursed loudly and colorfully. "I'm going to kill that idiot German!"
"I'd really rather you didn't," Antonio said mildly, reaching out a hand to take the coat off Romano's shoulders. "Without Ludwig, the EU would crumble apart, and I need their support right now."
"I don't care about the fucking EU! He hurt my brother!" Romano fumed. "Again."
"Not on purpose. Ludwig would never harm Feli on purpose. They are such good friends."
"Yeah, but don't you get it? Fratello doesn't want to be the potato bastard's friend. For some reason that I'm incapable of understanding, Feli wants him in an entirely non-platonic way."
"Well, to be fair, Ludwig isn't entirely unattractive," Antonio mused.
Lovino stared at him, his dark eyes narrowing dangerously. "Are you kidding me? Ludwig? Oh. So you think he's attractive, huh? Are you attracted to him, Antonio?"
Usually, Antonio loved the way his lover pronounced his name, with all the emphasis on the second syllable, loved to hear Lovino say it, scream it, whisper it. Not in that tone of voice, though. It was the voice of doom, of impeding catastrophe.
"No, not really. I've always had a thing for temperamental brunettes." He tried to make light of it.
"I'm not interested in your past relationships," Lovino snapped. "I want to know what to do about my brother and his silly infatuation with that German idiot. This has been going on for too long. I always thought he'd grow out of it – hell, even you told me he'd grow out of it, sappy romantic fool that you are. Well, here's the news – it's been over a century and he hasn't outgrown his follies. What am I to do with him?"
Leave him be and mind your own business, Antonio thought, but he bit his tongue. Lovino and Feliciano were very close, and neither of the Italian brothers had ever fully understood the meaning of the word 'privacy'.
"Have you tried talking to him? Feliciano usually likes to talk about his problems; it seems to help him find a solution," he suggested reasonably.
"Not this problem," Lovino replied, frowning. "He just spends all his time moping and feeling sorry for himself, and he won't even discuss the topic with me."
I wonder why, since you are so tolerant and understanding, Antonio thought ironically. "Would you like me to talk to him?"
"I don't think that'd help much." Lovino said, crossing his arms.
"You're probably right, but it's worth a try, I guess. Just don't listen at the door like you did last time, or if you do, at least keep your mouth shut."
"Hey!" Lovino protested. "You were being way too supportive of his foolish notions!"
"Yes, but that's the point, isn't it?" Antonio asked, trying not to get exasperated. "He doesn't need reprimands, he gets more than enough of those from you. He wants to be comforted, to feel like someone understands his predicament."
"And you would be that someone? Why you?"
Payback time, Antonio decided. "Well, Lovi," he said in his sweetest voice, "I spent centuries trying to win you over, and it's an ongoing battle. I think I know just about everything about heartbreak and lovesickness that there is to know. Now if you'll excuse me."
He pushed past Lovino, who opened and closed his mouth a few times but appeared to be at a loss for words, and began to ascend the stairs. His lover's eyes burned into his back.
Antonio smirked.
Feliciano was curled up on the bed, wrapped in a comfortingly soft blanket and watching reruns of some soap opera.
"You didn't come down for dinner," Antonio noted.
Feliciano raised his head. His auburn hair was tousled and looked like it could use a wash and a date with a comb and there was a sadness in his brown eyes that did not befit them. His bottom lip looked rather chewed on. "I wasn't hungry."
Antonio acknowledged the statement with a nod and sat down on the edge of the bed.
"You going to give me another one of those 'talks', Tonio?" Feliciano asked, sounding rather resigned.
Lovino wasn't much of a listener, especially if the topic wasn't to his liking and scorned advice no matter where it came from, but Feliciano, being the gentler, seemingly more malleable of the two, had sat through plenty of talks. Antonio, Roderich, Francis, even Ludwig had all at one time or other tried to pass on some of their questionable wisdom.
We all treat him like a child, a younger brother, Antonio realized, always have… I wonder if he resents it? If so, he never said anything.
"Would you like me to?" He asked. "I could just give a long, rambling monologue beneficial to your moral education while you lean back and doze off. Nothing like a good lecture to put you to sleep."
That drew a small smile from Feliciano. "You must have been a very bad student, Antonio."
"One of the worst Salamanca ever saw," Antonio agreed cheerfully. "And I'm a terrible teacher, too. Just ask your brother."
"Lovino wouldn't know, he has a habit of not listening to people who want to teach him something."
"I hear you."
"But you still love him, right? Despite his bad habits." Feliciano was looking at him intently from those large, sad eyes. Antonio suppressed the impulse to hug the poor boy.
Cruel, Ludwig, very cruel. Rejection is a terrible poison to feed to somebody who loves you with all his heart.
"I'm tempted to say I love your brother because of his bad habits. They make him all the more interesting. But don't tell him I said that."
Feliciano put a finger to his lips. "I'll keep it quiet." After a brief pause, he wryly shook his head. "I don't think Ludwig likes any of my bad habits."
"You don't have any, Feli."
"Oh, I've got plenty. I'm impulsive, messy, clumsy, childish, irresponsible, foolish… the list goes on."
"Did Ludwig say that to you?"
"Never in so many words. But I've known him for a long time. I can tell what he's thinking, most of the time." He sighed. "You know, Tonio," he confided in a low, dejected tone of voice. "What hurts so much is not that he doesn't love me; I could live with that… okay, well, it'd still be painful, but not that bad. What hurts so bad is that he doesn't want to love me."
"Oh, Feli," Antonio said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I wish I could help."
They were silent for a long moment, both contemplating the problem that largely consisted of a stubborn German and his outdated principles.
"Do you want me to talk to him?" Antonio finally asked.
Feliciano's head jerked up. "God no!" he breathed. "That'd be so..."
"Embarrassing?" Antonio suggested, wincing as he tried to imagine that particular conversation. He was rather glad that Feli had instantly declined his offer.
Feliciano smiled weakly. "Yes. And pointless. I tried to talk to Lovi a couple of times on your behalf, and he's my twin. Do you think he listened to me? People do not like to be counseled in matters of the heart."
"Someone should teach that to Francis," Antonio muttered.
"Hell will freeze over and Ivan will become a saint before Francis stops meddling with other people's love lives. But he usually means well, and it's the thought that counts."
"Is there anything I can do for you, Feli?" Antonio asked, feeling that he should do more for his friend, do something to help him and to lift him out of his misery. Feliciano was family, after all.
The little Italian shook his head. "No, Tonio. Do not trouble yourself. There's nothing you can do about it."
"So why," Antonio asked, as he lay in bed later that night next to a very sleepy Lovino, "why is there nothing I can do about it? I don't want to watch Feli suffer. It's not fair, and it is completely unnecessary."
Lovino made a noncommittal sound and shifted, trying to find a more comfortable sleeping position.
"I should probably go and talk to Ludwig anyway. I mean, it's not as if Feli expressly asked me not to do it... sure, he said that it would be embarrassing, but that won't matter, if it works, will it?"
"Uh-huh." Lovino yawned and dug deeper into the pillows, the back of his head coming to rest against Antonio's chest.
"What if it doesn't work, though? What if I only make matters worse? Ludwig is stubborn, and he is also a very private person. He won't like it if I try to intervene, even if it's on Feli's behalf. If I fail, I could cause Feli even more pain!"
Lovino, having shuffled and shifted until he finally found the perfect position, gave a contented sigh and relaxed, his body warm and heavy against Antonio's; a comforting, steady weight that reassured him.
"No, you're right. I should do it anyway. Doing nothing is not an option, and it's a calculable risk. I can deal with Ludwig, we have known each other a long time. And he genuinely cares about Feli. Maybe he is just insecure? It is, after all, a pretty big thing to admit to yourself... that you love somebody, I mean. And especially for someone with Ludwig's history... he is probably scared of making a mistake, of risking too much. He needs somebody with experience to tell him that there is nothing wrong with admitting how you feel. Yes, I should talk to him! I'll go to Berlin... Lovino? Lovi, did you hear what I said? I'm going to Berlin."
He looked down at his lover, but Lovino's soft snores were all the answer he got.
Berlin in mid-February was a cold, wet and dreary affair. Remnants of mushy snow were slowly thawing away between spidery leafless trees in the city's many parks. Gusts of icy wind swept through the grey streets, driving sprays of rain and sleet into the faces of those foolish enough to venture outside.
He reached Ludwig's medium-sized, understated house just as the German was returning from a walk with his dogs, all four of them looking rather wet and displeased. At least Ludwig had the good grace not to shake his wet hair right at Antonio (the dogs didn't).
"Antonio, welcome," Ludwig said, sounding somewhat perplexed. "What brings you here? I hope you are not in any trouble?"
Not yet, Antonio thought. But I may be very soon.
He shook his head. "No, not at all. I trust you are well?"
Ludwig looked like he always did, calm, steady and unshakeable. It was a bit disappointing, really. Antonio had hoped he would show some sign of discomfort at being at odds with Feli.
Ludwig shrugged. "Yes, thank you. Please, step inside."
Antonio followed him into the house and watched him clean the dogs' paws and dry their wet hair with a towel in the hallway. "They smell when they are wet," Ludwig explained.
"Is Gilbert not with you?" Antonio asked hopeful. The house was way too quiet. There was reason to hope that Prussia was out.
"No, he is visiting Roderich. Ivan and Matthew are meeting in Vienna, and I think Gilbert feels uneasy at the thought of leaving Roderich alone with them. He is a bit overprotective at times."
Correction: He is both obsessively jealous and insanely dense where it comes to Roderich. Out loud he said: "Well, I suppose one can never be too careful when it comes to Ivan. I feel somewhat sorry for Matthew, though. He just wants to be happy, and half the world has turned against him. And he won't get much out of his date with Ivan if both Roderich and Gilbert are there. Roderich is way too bothered with rules and appearances and your brother is a terrible nuisance."
"Tell me about it," Ludwig muttered.
They moved to the kitchen, where Ludwig fed the dogs and made coffee.
"Your house is awfully quiet without them," Antonio noted casually as he sat down at the kitchen table.
Ludwig looked up, frowning. "Them?"
"Gilbert and Feliciano."
"Oh." For a moment, a crack appeared in Ludwig's impenetrable mask. "Well, yes. I suppose it is." He walked across the room, handing Antonio a cup, the he hesitated. "How is he?"
Antonio hid a smile and adopted a befittingly concerned expression. "He's unhappy."
"Oh."
Seriously, Ludwig, what did you expect?
"To tell you the truth, I'm a bit worried. I have rarely seen him other than cheerful and energetic. Usually Feliciano faces even the most serious of problems with good humor. Now, though... well, what can I tell you? He's hurt. And he misses his best friend."
Ludwig flinched at those words, his shoulders drooping slightly. He sighed. "I miss him, too," he admitted in a low voice.
"Then why don't you do something about it?"
"What would you have me do? It's... complicated."
"No." Antonio said. "No, it's simple. He loves you. You care about him. Get together and be happy."
"Was it ever that easy?" Ludwig asked sarcastically.
"For Sweden and Finland, maybe." Antonio admitted. "The others? No. You know what I mean, though. What's the problem, Ludwig? He's a wonderful person. Are you not attracted to him?"
"That's not the point."
"Of course it is. Are you?"
Ludwig huffed, apparently annoyed. "I never thought about it. He's my friend."
"You are a really bad liar. So, obviously, you did think about it. And maybe you didn't like the conclusions you drew from those thoughts...? There's love and there's mutual attraction. And I know that you want him to be happy. What's stopping you?"
Ludwig shook his head. "It's not... I cannot. The implications, the responsibility..."
"Come on, Ludwig. You never shied away from responsibility."
"This is different. What if it doesn't work out? Feliciano is a dear friend and ally. I could not afford to lose him. Trust me, I have weighed the pros and cons often enough. I know what he wants. But I cannot give it to him."
"You could, if you were willing to give it a try. So what if it doesn't work out? Did the world come to a sudden and violent end when Roderich and Elizaveta separated? Did it stop spinning when Arthur left Francis? No. There were some mild ruptures, nothing more."
Ludwig looked doubtful. "No, but..."
"Feliciano is the least scary person in the world, Ludwig. It's time to tackle your fear of commitment."
"You did WHAT?!" Lovino asked. "Are you insane?!"
"No," Antonio stated calmly.
"You must be. You went to Ludwig and told him he should get together with my brother? What sort of stupid plan is that? It is never going to work! I don't want it to work, either!"
"I thought you wanted Feliciano to be happy?"
Lovino scowled. "Yes, but not with the potato bastard."
"Come off it, Lovi," Antonio chuckled, taking the fuming Italian into his arms. "I know you don't hate him that much."
Lovino grumbled something unintelligible.
"Maybe just a little bit?" Antonio suggested.
A long silence suggested that it might be a while before Lovino and Ludwig would comfortably settle down for a family dinner.
"Did you mean what you said last night?" Lovino asked suddenly.
"Which part? The one you slept through, or anything before that?" Antonio teased.
"The thing about me causing you heartbreak," Lovino replied quietly. He sounded strangely subdued.
"Awww, Lovi. It's true, though."
Lovino stamped his foot, thereby crushing several of Antonio's toes (or at least it felt like it). "Don't make fun of me, bastard!"
"Ouch. Don't abuse me."
Lovino looked up at him. His dark eyes were determined and defiant. "I love you."
Antonio met him halfway for a kiss. "And I guess that gives you the right to be a tyrant?"
"Idiot." Lovino said between two kisses.
"I love you, too, Lovi."