A/N - Hhhmmmm... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

"So where are you headed?" Antonio asked him.

Lovino watched the scenery fly by. He snapped his head around to look at him, eyes glittering dimly. "... Anywhere," he said at last, loudly to be heard over the wind and the radio, and he smiled even though the thrill had emptied out of his system. His sunburnt face stung. "anywhere is fine."

Antonio seemed to share his grin again. "Same here."

"Oh?"

He hummed. And then, "Maybe we could stick together for a little bit, then? I don't have to drop you off in the next city, do I?"

"I can stay until you don't want me anymore. All you have to do is say so."

Antonio hummed again.

At some point, they stopped at another diner.

At some point, Lovino found himself waking up, curled up and still sitting shotgun, to darkness, glittering stars, and city lights.

One hotel room.

Two beds.

A balcony.

Come midnight, and they were staring up at the ceiling while sprawled out on their beds. Their shoes were kicked off carelessly and littered the floor as well as their bags. The TV was on but only for the noise.

Lovino could feel Antonio's gaze settle on him, and he looked too. Then he looked away and closed his eyes. Crossed his arms behind his head.

"How old are you?" Antonio asked.

"Twenty-one. You?"

"Twenty-two."

He hummed.

"What's your story?"

Lovino felt his lips bend. "Wanderlust." The word had begun to feel like chocolate melting in his mouth. It was warm and sweet and he craved more. But then he sighed, opening his eyes a bit. "... Well, what about you?"

Antonio yawned.

They were in silence for a while, and then: "I was bored."

"Really?"

"Really."

They fell asleep.

They'd left their footprints in a diner with a glowing, half-lit, blue and pink OPEN sign. In a gas station where they carried all of the candy that they could.

Thank God they paid no mind to the old newspapers that screamed:

HEIR TO CLOTHING COMPANY GOES MISSING.

New city.

New hotel.

May suddenly became early July.

At some point, they began to hold hands.

Another gas station.

A wrinkled missing poster on one of the smudged windows. It almost looked like him.

No hotel. Slept in the car beneath the stars.

They almost kissed.

"We should stay in the city for a while,"

The morning sun was bright, but the air was chilled. Lovino felt a bit awkward in the short-sleeved shirt from before, yet it felt alright.

"Okay."

The city they saw approaching was gray and lively, and Lovino knew that once night hit, it would be ignited with bright colors and music. It would still be lively. Maybe they would kiss.

He didn't just think that.

No.

Lovino turned his head slightly, golden eyes flickering from the view that mocked him past the window to where their hands resided between the both of them. Fingers intertwined and Antonio's thumb warm against a faded childhood scar.

Antonio was smiling, and the Jeep entered the city.

No.

The Jeep had left the road hours earlier, and sat idle with the headlights on and radio humming softly. The sky was open and drowning with stars.

"What's your sign?" Antonio wondered quietly.

Lovino tilted his head against Antonio's shoulder, eyes glowing in the dark. "Pisces." he murmured.

"Aquarius."

Lovino hummed.

"What do you want your career to be?" Antonio asked.

"... Singer, I think. You?"

"Not sure."

Silence then, gentle and draping over them snugly.

And he didn't know what happened. Had Antonio shifted to get comfortable? Had he? When were their lips so close and Antonio's eyes so dark and so teal and his own so wide?

There was more silence. Their faces burned.

Lovino fell asleep with his head resting against the cold glass of the window, curled up and suddenly sitting shotgun.

Lovino and Antonio ran into Francis and Gilbert, two of Antonio's old friends. Downtown. Shopping. They stopped to talk and get something to eat in a café.

"Have we seen you before? You seem… familiar."

Gilbert was wearing one of the Vargas jackets. Maroon, and it looked nice on him.

"I don't think so. I'm not from around here, so…"

"Really? Alright then."

There was going to be a party, and they were invited.

When they arrived, T-shirts and jeans and dusty shoes, Lovino discovered that some of the girls were wearing the Vargas dresses. The lilac lace. The revealing black. Garbage bags, he thought lowly, would probably be better. And Lovino almost wanted to leave. Almost.

Antonio had taken his hand to dance before he could do anything about it, though.

The floor was so packed that any sort of dancing that wasn't inappropriate seemed impossible. In the darkness, and in the flashing colors, Lovino was pressed close to Antonio. That was okay.

Deep down, Lovino didn't care that he was falling head first into hell.

Gilbert came around at some point, and pressed red plastic cups of overflowing beer into their hands. He had laughed, and they had laughed, ready to feel lighter than they had when they got to the party.

Only several sips later, when the blue and pink lights had flashed, their lips met.

Someone had pushed Lovino forward, loosened the cup from his hand and spilled the amber liquid. The two of them stood in a puddle of beer and a crushed red cup, Antonio's arms wrapped around Lovino and holding him up.

And they were quiet for a moment. Then they smiled. Their dancing was growing sluggish, somewhat inappropriate. They were more concerned with kissing.

Don't take me tongue tied,

Don't kiss me goodnight,

Don't.

Take me to your best friend's house,

Roll around this roundabout,

Oh yeah.

Take me to your best friend's house.

I loved you then and I love you now.

Somewhere, where the party was more quiet and slow, where the lights didn't quite reach, the two of them had fallen against the wall.

Antonio held Lovino's face. Lovino's hands were tangled in Antonio's hair. They were still kissing.

It was August and his wrist was delicately aflame.

Black.

Typewriter font.

i love you.

The city had a beach, and they stood on the dock.

The waves crashed against them, and they swayed and yelled and laughed with tinged cheeks.

The sun set, bleaching them gold and pink. Antonio caught him by the waist and they spun, tipping, into the water.

Not knowing when they had thrown the curtains open, they were bathed in golden sunlight in a dim room.

Antonio had an arm around Lovino, the other behind his head. Their bare legs were tangled, and all Lovino wore was a flannel that was wrinkled and stained from the previous night. A hand, with the tattoo on the wrist, rested on his chest.

Another night where they sat on the balcony.

Lovino was snug on Antonio's lap, head tucked under his chin and their hands fit together to strum the guitar slowly, hesitant with each movement.

"I don't want to go back," Lovino had whispered at some moment, sounding tired and sad. Sounding like he wanted to disappear inside the black hoodie he wore. It was really Antonio's but it sounded like he wanted to get lost and never return to anyone.

"You only promised yourself the summer."

Lovino tipped his head away, carefully. "Life's a bitch." he replied, and they kissed softly in the moonlight.

Lovino was asleep when Antonio stopped for gas.

He grabbed his wallet and walked inside. Went to the wall of drinks and grabbed two cold glass bottles of lemonade.

Antonio placed them on the counter. "Gas for pump three," he added to the pretty cashier and got out the proper amount of money.

"Have a nice day," she bid him and he returned the favor before heading for the automatic doors.

He noticed it on the window, sidestepping to avoid colliding with a mother and her daughter who were coming in.

Amongst the yellowed and wrinkled fliers, this one was crisp and clean. Recently taped up. Asked to be hung up by someone with a hope that hadn't yet died on the person who was missing.

The photograph almost looked like him, but Lovino didn't have green eyes or auburn hair. He didn't look as lost or trapped.

Antonio studied the number with a code for New York. Studied the description.

He tried to swallow the lump in his throat.

That couldn't be Lovino.

It was.

Antonio had never felt more terrible than when he did watching the clock that hung on the wall behind Lovino. They were enjoying strawberry smoothies and considering leaving the café soon.

The clock would strike three in the afternoon, then everything would be over.

Antonio wished he could breath.

Chewing on his straw, Antonio got up and walked out with Lovino on his side.

Oh, he felt so terrible.

"Hey, Lovi?"

"What, 'Tonio?"

He bit his cheek.

"Well?"

"I…" Three o'clock. "I'm really sorry, Lovi."

"... What?"

Antonio watched his eyes go wide, and he saw the black car that Antonio only heard come speeding down the street. He dropped his drink, and pivoted. In seconds, he was gone.

The car slowed, and someone got out. It was Feli, looking frantic and ready to bolt.

"Block us off further ahead," he said to his grandfather, and then they were running too.

The two of them took the right turn that Lovino took, followed by a left and another right.

There was a vacant lot coming up, and Lovino was caught between his grandfather and Feli and Antonio.

"Lovi, please," Antonio started, and he tensed at how the wide gaze flickered to him. "you have to go back to New York."

And then Lovino looked back to Feli. "Why are you here?" he hissed.

"Antonio called me. He saw the missing poster and-!"

"You called?!" Lovino cried. He ran his hands through his hair. Stumbled backwards a couple of steps. "W-why… Why the hell would you-?"

Antonio watched as Lovino's grandfather wrapped his arms around him. He had been quietly sneaking behind him.

"Let me go! Let me go!" Lovino yelled, struggling to get free. He was quiet for a moment, caught up in staring at his wrist, at the tattoo, before turning his burning attention to Antonio again. "Why would you do this to me?! I thought… I TRUSTED YOU! YOU BETRAYED ME!"

And as quickly as it had started, it was over and Lovino was gone.

Antonio was alone.