Thank you to the person who informed me that I had posted the same chapter twice! My laptop has been malfunctioning.
"You want to do WHAT, bastard?"
Antonio grinned down at the Italian. "Let me cook for you. I mean, I enjoyed dinner last time. Really, I did. But I want you to try my cooking. Please? Just this once, I swear."
Lovino scoffed and hung his apron over his shoulder. "I'm not so sure about that, tomato bastard." Antonio stepped closer to Lovino and simply looked the smaller man in the eyes. Lovino's eyes were so wonderful. They were a sort of hazel in the dark, but in the light they turned more of a honey colour. Antonio could see himself in those eyes, too. He noticed the way the pupils became larger when Lovino was looking at something he enjoyed. And he could have just leaned in and kissed the lids of those beautiful, glassy eyes.
Wait, he could do that. Couldn't he? And maybe it would even convince his little Lovi to let him cook dinner tonight for the Vargas family. He grabbed Lovino, who was still talking, by the shoulders and kissed just slightly below his eyebrow. Lovino let out a sort of sigh, though Antonio couldn't tell if it was because he was pleased or annoyed.
He guessed pleased, because Lovino then said, "Alright, whatever, bastard. You can cook, I guess. Just don't ruin our kitchen and don't make something gross with potatoes. Potatoes are disgusting as hell."
Antonio beamed as he watched Lovino go back into the house to tell Roma and Feliciano that 'the bastard was cooking them dinner tonight'. He could hear Roma say something like, "Well, a man does get tired from cooking for himself every now and then." Antonio figured that the statement went both ways. It did get old to have to cook your own meals, but it also got old to only be able to cook for yourself every time you ate.
Lovino opened the door and motioned Antonio into the house. Antonio didn't hesitate to enter like he had the first time he was invited into the Vargas home. The wood burning in the fireplace smelled comforting. It smelled like home. Like family.
And it smelled like how Antonio imagined love would smell.
"Lovino and Feliciano, I want you two to go in the bakery and go ahead and put the fire out. And put the bread away for tomorrow," Roma said. Antonio began to follow Lovino, but was stopped by Roma's strong arm. Antonio paled as he watched the two young men disappear behind the door.
"Sit down, Antonio. No need to be concerned. I just wanted to have a talk with you." Roma nodded at a wobbly chair beside the white table in the corner. He sat as he was told, not daring once to speak out of turn. He didn't want to screw this up.
"Now, what is your full name, Antonio?"
Antonio gulped. "Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, sir." Alright, one question down. That was something, right?
"What do you do for a living, Antonio?"
Oh, he had prepared for this question. A lie, that is. "Well, sir, I was, for a while, a student. How I get my money now is by translating books from Latin, French, and English to Spanish. It allows me a great deal of spare time." He wrung his wrists anxiously. He hoped Roma didn't notice his nerves.
Antonio wiped a bead of sweat from the back of his neck and smiled politely at the slightly larger man. He, surprisingly, smiled back. "I have a book in French. Why don't you translate it?" Roma stood up and picked up a thin book from a stack of many. Antonio knew French, but not very well. He pulled at his collar, hoping he wouldn't screw this up. Roma opened to a random page in the middle. "Translate."
Antonio cleared his throat and read a short paragraph. He looked up at Roma and sat the book down. He was squinting now. Oh, God. He had messed up.
But instead of killing him, Roma grinned. "Well, there was only two words that were a little off. So you're the real deal, huh? So tell me, Antonio. What do you want with Lovi?"
This question was worse than the last one. Antonio shifted in the chair. "I do not understand, sir. I just wish for the friendship of your grandson. Nothing more."
"I'll speak plainly, Antonio. Cut the shit. I see the way you look at him. It is the same way I looked at the woman I loved many years ago. Like that person could make any day the best day of your life. They could make a grey sky blue as the clear sea. Like God himself made them just for you. I see it in your eyes. And you're lucky, because I see it in Lovi's eyes, too. If I didn't see it, I'd have told you to get out of his life before now. So tell me, what do you want with Lovi?"
Antonio thought he was going to melt. He scratched his palm with a shaky hand. "I-" He didn't know what to say. He could feel his eyes glazing over. God, he didn't want to ruin this.
He finally stood up, wringing his wrists so hard that he thought he might have cut his circulation off. He parted his lips. "Sir," he began honestly, "I just-" He looked down at the floorboards and thought about Lovino. He thought about the moments he had spent with Lovino. There wasn't many of them, and yet it seemed like he had known Lovino his entire life. He thought about the smile he was allowed to see on special occasions and how beautiful the Italian looked when something made him happy. And he knew. He knew what he wanted with Lovino.
He didn't want sex. He didn't want anything material like that. Well, not entirely, at least. And he really didn't want to turn Lovino in. And he was starting to believe he really wouldn't. He . . . He just . . .
"I just want to make him happy. I expect nothing in return. His happiness brings meaning to my life." Antonio hadn't realized that he was smiling, but he was. Roma examined him for a moment, then finally nodded in approval.
"Alright, Antonio. Alright. But if you hurt my precious Lovi, I will castrate you. Yes?"
Antonio nodded grimly. Roma flashed a warm smile and called for Lovino, who hurried back into the house. "Feliciano and I are going to finish cleaning the bakery, figlio. I just want you to relax, alright? I know you've worked in the bakery for a while today." Roma disappeared into the bakery. Antonio glanced at Lovino who glanced back, and it was obvious that Lovino knew exactly how the conversation had went.
"Sorry about him, bastard. He means well."
Antonio just nodded and let out a nervous laugh.
.
Lovi pulled his legs up as he watched Antonio cook. Antonio wasn't very careful when he cooked, but he was also very quick, so that might have been why.
He didn't seem bad at cooking, though. It caught Lovino off guard. He hadn't known this about the Spaniard, and it made him think. What else didn't he know about this man? He hadn't known him for very long at all. Lovino leaned back and watched Antonio's hands. "Hey bastard, I don't really know anything about you. Have you realized that?"
Antonio stopped cooking for a moment to smile at Lovino. "Forgive me for that, Lovi."
Lovino sneered. "No. No need to forgive you. But I want to ask you questions, you know, bastard. I think I have the goddamn right to know you better. So where do you live, anyway? I see you here all the time. But I never hear about your home."
"It isn't much of a home. A loft. It is good sized, but I live alone. And it isn't very enjoyable to be alone all the time, is it?"
"Depends on who is with you when you're not alone. Where is your family? Do they live in Barcelona or what, bastard?"
Antonio stopped cutting whatever he was cutting and looked up. His lips were smiling, but his eyes were dark. "They passed away years ago. But I don't really remember. I'm not sure how they passed. It was so long ago. I was five. And I was taken in by some nice couple who now live in France. They had a good amount of money. Enough to put me through school. And to make sure I never went hungry. And to bring me up in the church, I suppose. So yes, it was sad that they passed away. My parents. But everything turns out in the end, doesn't it?" His smile looked pained now. But he didn't remove it. It just sat there, mocking it's owner.
Lovino shook his head and sat up. "Shit, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked." He stood and walked over to Antonio. "You don't have to answer these, by the way." Lovino attempted to comfort Antonio by clinging to his bicep. Antonio smiled at the attempt, at least.
"I'll just ask one more. What, uh, what the hell are we? I mean, I'm not a complete idiota, you know. This is what people who are together, er, romantically do. They spend time together, and kiss." And other things. But Lovino didn't want to mention that. He wasn't exactly sure how it worked between two men. "Or is that wrong, or something? Because we're both men and I try not to think about it because it seems weird. I've never seen a man and a man. But you feel right. I probably actually sound really fucking stupid. But do you see? You see what I'm saying, right?" Lovino looked at Antonio hopefully. Antonio stared down at Lovino, one eyebrow slightly raised.
Lovino recoiled. "Oh, shit, I wasn't misreading, right? Fucking shit. God fucking dammit." The smaller man grimaced and turned away. He could hear Antonio laughing softly behind him. He spun around and punched the Spaniard's arm. "Why are you laughing at me, bastard?"
"Aw, Lovi, come on. Don't. You weren't misreading anything. I'd say we're together. Because I feel the same way about you, mi querido. And I wouldn't see it as wrong. I feel happy when I'm around you, and I know, with every single beat of my heart, that there is nothing wrong with loving you. And there is nothing wrong with you loving me. Not that you do. If it makes you happy to not love me, so be it."
Love? Antonio loved him? He loved Lovino? How did this man love him? Antonio must have seen the confusion, because he took Lovino's hand and pressed soft kisses to it. "Lovi, I want to show you something." He rested the Italian's hand below his jaw. Lovino's hands were small for a man's, but his fingers were long and thin. And very cold. Lovino could feel Antonio's blood pulsing through the thick vein under his jaw. It both frightened him and intrigued him.
"Antonio?" Lovino felt a hand slide atop his own. Antonio smiled a gentle smile, his eyes brightening for a moment. Antonio pressed his forehead to Lovino's. The smaller man thought about pulling away. It was his instinct, after all. But he couldn't move. His body wouldn't allow it. So he watched the green eyes pierce his own. And there were two lips on his own. His eyes shut. And his lips moved softly against Antonio's.
He could still feel the vein beneath his fingers. The blood pumped quicker. Antonio's heartbeat was speeding up. And it felt wonderful. Lovino felt appreciated. Wanted. Needed. And he had never felt anything better in his entire life. He wrapped his arms around the Spaniards neck and pulled his lips away.
"This is what you do to me, Lovi," Antonio said, sliding Lovino's hand down to his chest. His heart was pounding at a quick pace. And it was getting quicker. Lovino looked at his hand on the Spaniards chest.
This is what it felt like to be loved. To love. This had to be it. He grasped onto the Spaniard like they could be ripped apart at any moment. He placed sloppy kisses all over Antonio's tanned neck, which Antonio eagerly accepted. He tilted his head back so the Italian could have better access. He took advantage of the position and wrapped his lips around the soft flesh below Antonio's ear. Was he doing this right? It seemed so.
"Mmm- Lovi?" Lovino pulled away and looked up at Antonio, eyes burning that bright honey colour again. A faint smile even played at the Italian's lips. Antonio traced them with his thumb, pulling on the bottom one gently, enjoying how damp and warm they still were. "Te-"
"LASCIARE, LOVI!"
Lovino looked up at the door to the bakery and broke away from Antonio, who looked around in confusion. Lovino grabbed his boots and his cloak in one hand. He slammed the green door open. "Antonio, come on! It's them! Aw, fuck. Get your shit!" Lovino grabbed a tomato and stepped outside. He turned around. "Bastard! Why are you just standing there?!"
Antonio watched the tears welling in Lovino's eyes. " 'Tonio, come on! God, you're cutting it really fucking close." The sounds of scuffing boots came from the bakery. The door was being pushed and kicked to get into the house.
Antonio spoke softly. "Go, Lovino. Please."
Lovino stepped back inside, tears spilling out over his cheeks. "No. Please. They'll take you for conspiracy."
Antonio shook slightly. "Lovi, please. Run. Please for the love of God. Run."
Lovino scoffed angrily, his face turning bright red. "I don't want to leave without you! I-I love you, dammit! Please!" Angry tears fell down his neck. There was a resounding kick.
A crack.
And the door was open.
Six men came in. They were all big. All strong. They passed Antonio, who was trying his hardest not to tremble. Lovino turned to run out the door, but he was grabbed quickly and pushed to his knees where he couldn't kick at any of the men. He forced himself to stop crying. He didn't want to cry in front of these men. He was a man, dammit. But Feliciano. And Grandpa Roma. Where were they? He tried to peek into the bakery, but all he could see was the front window.
There was no sound of Feliciano crying or Grandpa Roma yelling. Nothing. They must have taken them already. Lovino looked at Antonio. He had to help him. He made up a quick lie. "I'm sorry you had to see this, uh, and the house you were looking for is down the street to the left. It has flowers in the windows and a painting on one of the glass panes."
Antonio tried to swallow the lump built up in his throat. He wanted to smile. To let Lovino know that everything would be alright. But he couldn't. And now Lovino was trying to help him from the danger that he wasn't even in. And Antonio could do nothing but stand idly while Lovino was lifted to his feet. He glared at Antonio. "Leave, sir. It would be wise of you."
Why wasn't Antonio leaving? Why was he standing there? One of the six men smiled a toothy grin and glanced from Antonio to Lovino. "What is this, Carriedo? What the hell is he talking about?" Lovino watched the man curiously. Antonio said nothing. "Shit, Carriedo, you are good. I mean, you take more time than that German sonofabitch, but damn. You know, I always said you should have joined one of those troupes or whatever the hell they are, you know? Like do plays and shit. But thank God you're not, right?" The man smirked at Antonio, who stared at the floor. Lovino felt like his heart was spasming.
"A-Antonio. What is h-he talking about?"
Antonio swallowed hard and looked away. He picked up his coat as casually as he could. But he didn't dare answer. He slid his coat on and started for the door to the alley.
"An- Antonio? B-Bastard?" Lovino's voice cracked and shook with each word. The six men laughed, a few mocked him, doing fake voice cracks and reaching out longingly to nothing, eyes smiling. "Bastard? Well that is one hell of a pet name, Carriedo."
Antonio kept his eyes down as he re-opened the door.
"Please."
A whisper. Just a whisper. Antonio froze and looked down.
"Please. Just tell me what's going on," Lovino said, his voice calmer than it should have been. Antonio opened his mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't come out. He stared sadly at the dirty alley, wanting desperately to escape.
"I'll tell you what fucking happened, dipshit. You're a Jew. Right? Right. It is Antonio's job to aquire evidence that you are actually Jewish. We want to be accurate on the occasion. And this was the case he was given. He was supposed to get close to a member of the Fargis family or whatever the hell your last name is. And through them he would get what he needed. And he's brilliant, isn't he? Really had you going, didn't he, idiota? You can't fall in love with a Jew. Even a pretty one like you. And you really are a pretty one. Especially that brother of yours. The little one, you know, the one that cried out for you while he was being taken away? Yeah. Carriedo, you should have gone for that one. The little one. But I like it when they have some fight, too. And this one seems to have just that," the man with the toothy grin said.
Lovino looked at Antonio, sadness and anger filling him. "Antonio? I should have known. I'm so stupid." More tears. "You bastard. You fucking bastard. I thought you loved me. Did you fucking hear me? I thought you fucking loved me! You fucking asshole! You sonofafuckingbitch! How fucking dare you put your goddamn lips on me? You liar! You fucking liar, you lying pile of shit! I hope you die! I want you to fucking die!" Antonio stepped out. "DON'T YOU FUCKING WALK AWAY FROM ME YOU GODDAMN SHIT-EATING SONOFABITCH!"
Antonio shut the door, but all he could hear was Lovino yelling. "I hope you fucking die! Kill yourself! I hope you catch the goddamn plague! I hope you impale yourself on your own sword! I hope you feel like shit for what you've done! You piece of shit! You're a goddamn bastard! AND I HOPE YOU DIE! I HOPE YOU'RE KILLED TONIGHT IN YOUR SLEEP! I HOPE YOU FEEL BAD! I WANT YOU TO BURN IN HELL WHERE YOU BELONG! BUT I WANT YOU DEAD! I WANT YOU TO KILL YOURSELF! And I want you dead." There was a sharp cry and Antonio knew Lovino was sobbing. "And I want to be dead with you."
Antonio covered his mouth as tears streamed down his face. He couldn't stay here. Not anymore.
He left without a single word.
To Be Continued . . .